#when she came back she felt bad and offered to take the rest and do the presentation instead of making him speak

[hitomisuzuya]

Hey hey Suzuuuu

I hope you can see this request..

It’s a nsfw

I would like to request Wanderer x shy fem reader at Sumeru Akademiya, a new student came in and its reader who is shy to introduce herself. And the teacher told the new student to sit next to Wanderer and Wanderer finds it annoying when he preferred to be alone.

At some time, Wanderer becomes like a bully when he likes to tease and make fun of fem reader only to see her reactions, and it makes him like want to corrupt her innocence.

wanderer (scaramouche) x fem!reader. smut corruption. fingering. bullying. minor degradation.

i want to sincerely thank everyone for letting me take my time and go through requests at my own pace 😭🥺 i feel bad, though.

wanderer only went to class that day because nahida insisted on walking him there. if she hadn't, he would gone right out into the forest to hide and maybe nap in a tree for awhile. a more valuable use of his time, in his opinion, but nahida insisted that the akademiya would be good for him.

he could practically taste your innocence the moment you walked through the lecture hall door. it was pure in a way he hadn't considered still existed. through his sheer annoyance at you being seated next to him (his table was the only empty seat. he could totally see why), he shot you a glare that sent an unexpected shiver up your spine.

"don't think we are going to be friends because you are sitting next to me," he wanted to level with you right here and now. "99% of the time, i won't even be here."

"oh, that's fine," you replied, organizing your books and tucking some hair behind your ear. "i'm not here to make friends. i am here to learn," you pursed your lips, and offered him a soft smile, "my family also has high expectations of me."

"i didn't ask," wanderer replied, crossing his arms and finding a spot to fixate on and stare at for the rest of the class. chances are he knew more things politically than the professor. the asshole who wrote that essay about what he thought happened on tatarasuna sure thought he knew everything.

still though, as much as he hates it, he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye. it was easy for him to tell what kind of girl you are in these moments. you certainly had no issue sitting there, looking pretty while you listened with such foolish intent. you even took notes on the smallest, most useless things.

did you think this knowledge may come in use later?

judging from your explanation earlier, wanderer knew exactly what to capitalize on and take advantage of.

he didn't expect you to have the most interesting reactions when he bullied you.

"it must be so hard for you," wanderer cooed condescendingly, watching you survey the mess he made by knocking all your books out of your hands. "always being a goody goody. doing your homework on time, never missing class," sighing, he kicked one of notebooks out of the way as you reached down to pick it up. "you have be getting crushed under the weight."

"i..i am just so clumsy," you stumbled over your words a little, clearly flustered. wanderer licked his lips. you are just so interesting. he'd just been so mean to you. anyone should've snapped or fought back. but not you. you had the shyest flush on your cheeks. were you enjoying this?

as for you, you are. the more interactions you have with wanderer bullying you, with his enchanting electric eyes and condescending purr to his voice, the wetter you got. it was embarrassing to you. a fact that you had a hard time coming to terms with. at first.

he even used a small gust of anemo to knock your water bottle out of your hand one day, tossing water all over your shirt (it was to see your nipples harden in your bra from cold the water was), but you only looked at him with further adoration.

but his bullying just felt so good. you couldn't possibly tell him that you often fingered yourself until you were a wet, twitching mess at night after classes.

in wanderer's still very twisted mind, corrupting you would be helping you. he didn't even know when he started coming to class everyday, but you were starting to look like you weren't sleeping well. your hands shook while you took tests.

the moment you felt wanderer's hand dip into your panties for the first time, parting your folds and grazing your clit, your hips immediately jerked up to grind on his fingers. fingers that you always thought are so ungodly beautiful it should be considered a crime.

a moan you didn't even mean to let out sounded from you. the more those beautiful fingers stroked your pussy, the more it throbbed and clenched. your eyes widened in an aroused desperation, your hole clenching around the tips of his fingers as he prodded them teasingly at your entrance.

"you poor thing," wanderer cooed, "this is probably the best you have felt ever," he slowly wagged the pads of his fingers on your clit, tearing mewls from you as he just as teasingly pinched your clit. "you are so fucking wet, your cunt will suck my fingers in."

your clit throbbed, feeling shamelessly compelled to rub your soaking pussy on his fingers. "i thought you had to get to class?" he continued. your eyes widened as he started to take his hand out of your panties. "do you know how foolish it is to try and please everyone all the time?"

your hand shot out to grasp his wrist. "no, please. i don't want to go anywhere. i want to stay right here with you," you urged his hand between your legs again. "please," your eyes watered in desperation.

wanderer chuckled. did you have an idea how much of a turn on you are in general? you, the good and innocent girl was begging to skip class and stay with him with your legs spread on his bed. fuck, you deserve to have your pretty pussy stuffed full with his fingers. "who knew you are really such a slut?"

you are breaking so well under the weight of his corruption. you couldn't think about anything other than the need to feel his fingers fucking into you. thoughts you'd never had before about anyone. until wanderer.

"good girl," he tuggedyour panties off, his cock straining from watching the soaked material peel off your pussy. "moan for me while i break you. it's what you want the most, no?" he pushed two fingers inside of you, stretching you apart and hooking them to the knuckle into your sweet spot.

you nodded, jolts of pleasure crackling through you. your eyes nearly rolled closed in pleasure as he started pumping his fingers. they would've had he not put a hand on your jaw. "no, no, kitten. i wanna see those pretty eyes of yours while i make you cum," he gently squeezed your jaw to remind you of your place.

it is erotic to him how some of your moans even had a tinge of shock in them. you are coming apart so fast, your body only relaxing and submitting to him. he was devouring you, and nothing has ever felt better in your whole life.

the pumps of his fingers grew more aggressive with your consistent moans. he stretched your pussy apart so perfectly, sussing out every sensitive spot between your walls effortlessly. "a third finger, please," you moan, rocking your hips up extra to convey your plea.

wanderer was more than happy to oblige you. he abruptly added a third finger, bullying it against your sweet spot. a near scream of pleasure tore from your throat. "are you feeling good, slut?" his cock pulsed as your walls snapped tighter around his fingers. you obviously enjoy being degraded. "you'll tend to my cock next, yes?"

you struggled to even nod, your cheeks flushed with adoration. "yes! i want to more than anything!" you cried out, stroking his wrist in appreciation as your orgasm curled tighter, your juices frothing and gathering on the insides of your thighs.

"oh? more than going to class or pleasing your family?" wanderer couldn't wait for your inevitable response. a response that would no doubt make him want to impale you on his cock even more. he couldn't break you too fast.

could he?

"yes, yes please! so much more than..than.." your words fell away, the knot of your orgasm building and tightening to an almost overwhelming degree. "anything!" you barely managed to cry out, twitching and writhing as you scrambled to chase the wonderful high unlike any other that he was providing.

wanderer couldn't help but laugh shakily, slowly stroking his cock. you look more beautiful breaking than he imagined. he knew he didn't have to keep his hand on your chin anymore. you couldn't and wouldn't dream of taking your eyes off. not when he'd demanded you to keep looking at him while you cum.

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 2

in which sexy construction worker!rafe who spends his days 'lifting heavy stuff and building shit' (his words) and driving shy!reader home, shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...

18+ mdni!

c/w: construction worker!rafe being a tease, slight somnophilia, smut (dry humping, p-in-v, unprotected sex)

wc: 2.7k

hi! this is a part two to this (also this whole story was originally supposed to be just a small blurb consisting of a few silly sentences but then i got a bit carried away :D) anyways hope you enjoy xx

part 3 part 4 part 5

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

It’s past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment.  

No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe it’s just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal who’s escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her. 

Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) when she gingerly opens the door, mentally preparing to face a serial killer.

However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes it’s Rafe standing tall before her. 

“Oh, hi. What are you— what are you doing here?” A surprised look paints over her visage.  

“You forgot this in my car, thought you might need it back,” he’s grinning, holding out a phone to her, pale yellow case making her realize it’s her phone. She almost doesn’t recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device she’s grown accustomed to.  

“Oh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,” she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features.  

“Yeah, couldn’t exactly call you,” he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke. 

A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance.  

A worn-out t shirt a few sizes too big and…well, that’s it. She’s not wearing anything else. He’s trying not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair, swallowing nervously under his attention.  

Unfortunately for the both of them, he never actually ended up fucking her when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for a week after the particularly long shift she’d just had.  

Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder, thumb smoothing over the material of her shirt, letting her rest in tranquility. Telling himself he could be patient with her, not wanting to rush anything.  

However, she’s not making it very easy for him right now when there’s only one piece of clothing covering her. She looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms and slump down on her bed, crawling under crisp sheets and feel how her lungs expand against his chest.  

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He carefully asks, suddenly worried he’s disturbed her serene slumber.  

“No, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldn’t really sleep so…” she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer, not wanting him to go yet; finding immense comfort in his assured presence.  

“Um, do you— do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?” She clumsily offers.  

His brows raise, surprised at her proposition. She’s being uncharacteristically bold; his mouth twists into an amused simper. 

“Actually, forget I said anything, you’re probably really tired and just wanna go home, sorry, I don’t know why I even—” she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafe’s grown familiar with.  

“Don’t be stupid, of course I’ll come in,” he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold, taking a look around her cozy home. Leafy plants adding greenery to the small space and picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls. It’s cute, he thinks.  

She sets a steaming mug in front of him on her kitchen table and sits down next to him on a wooden chair. He’s definitely not staring at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up the tops of her thighs, allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out. He clears his throat.  

“You often have trouble sleeping?” He tries to focus on something else, anything else, taking a slow sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process.  

“Yeah, sometimes. It’s just sometimes it’s hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. I try to fall asleep but the loud noises of the customers talking and the clinking of plates and spoons keep replaying in my head and suddenly I’m wide awake, you know?” She explains.  

“I’m sorry, is there anything that helps?” He prods.  

“I don’t know, I guess just trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,” she mumbles out. 

“Oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re just using me in order to fall asleep?” He teases, grinning when he manages to drag out yet another giggle from her mouth.  

“Yeah, I suppose I am,” her eyes glimmer like little stars when she looks at him.  

“Should I feel offended right now?” He jokingly scoffs.  

“No, you should feel flattered, I don’t invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.” 

And he thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy, she’s a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self would be, more carefree. Maybe that’s the reason he lets the next words escape the gaps of his teeth.  

“You into cuddling?” He asks, profound aquamarine locking with her rounded eyes.  

“Uh— I mean, I probably would be if I had someone to cuddle with, but I don’t so…” she drifts off, not sure how to respond. 

“Wanna cuddle with me?” He says it so nonchalantly, and she doesn’t understand how he’s so indifferent to this whole situation while she feels dizzy, dazed mind reeling and vivid heart tingling in her ribcage. 

“Really? You want to? But wouldn’t it be weird?” She seems taken aback by his proposal. 

“Why the fuck would it be weird? I mean, we’re friends, right?” His brows crease. 

“Yes, of course we are, I just—” 

“Look, all I’m saying, is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having something else to focus on and shit,” he reasons, making her realize she’s totally overthinking this; he’s simply trying to help.  

“You’re right, yeah, we should do that then,” she agrees and swiftly gets up on wobbly feet, almost falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, grounding her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at his sudden proximity.  

“Easy there, Sweetheart,” he chuckles against her hair, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him amusing.  

“Sorry,” she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks.  

And that’s how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middle, caging her in with gentle fingertips toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter closed.  

He’s so warm and big making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing this again.  

“You good?” He murmurs next to her ear.  

“Mhm,” she blissfully croons, letting out a content exhale.  

Her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy and the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy.  

“Sweet dreams,” is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before she’s in the tender embrace of a crepuscular dormancy.  

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

She’s lethargic in her movements when she rouses from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in. Rafe’s heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his and it’s murky in her unlit bedroom; the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots in her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space.  

The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and she’s not sure what has woken her up.  

Then she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass. There’s a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization.  

He’s hard. Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more. 

She swallows.  

What is she supposed to do? 

She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low groan, rumbling deep from his firm chest; grip tightening around her smaller form.  

“Rafe?” She calls out. 

No response.  

“Rafe? Wake up.”  

Still nothing. 

She can feel him breathing heavily against her hair; pawing at her hips every now and then, trying to pull her even closer, even if they’re already effectively glued together and there’s absolutely no means for her to move.  

She’s starting to become sticky between her thighs as he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in a stupor.  

She mewls when her clit throbs, pestering for some sort of friction. And that’s when he finally stirs, the weight of his arms loosening like a tight knot unfurling and her lungs are finally able to greedily suck in brisk air.  

“Shit, sorry, my bad” his tone is gravelly and at that, some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides. 

However, he doesn’t pull away like she half expects; her face heats up. 

“It’s uh— it’s okay. I mean…no worries,” she rambles because what the fuck is she supposed to say? 

“No, it’s fully my fault, just had quite a nice dream,” he admits, voice coarse. 

“Oh. What was it about?” She inquires, yawning, perhaps too curious for her own good.  

“You wanna know?” His brows raise, surprised. 

She hums.  

“Well, there was this really pretty girl, and she had me in her mouth and was letting me do whatever I wanted to her,” he murmurs with a heady tone overlaying his response.  

“Oh,” she tries to appear indifferent, although there’s a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom from the damp soil in the pit of her stomach at his words.  

He chuckles at how oblivious she is. “You’re silly sometimes, you know?” He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when he’s got her right here with him? 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, smiling to himself.  

“So, what else happened?”  

“What else? Okay, then she let me do this,” he says at the same time as he grabs her hips again, pushing against her, earning a faint whimper from her when she can feel how big he is through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

“Rafe…what are you doing?” She manages to ask through a whine; his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs.  

“Got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He mutters, shallow. 

“I— what are you— what are you talking about?” Her brain is foggy and she’s not able to think straight when he’s so close.  

He doesn’t answer, instead continuing the retelling of his dream. “Then I grabbed her like this,” he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paper. Her inhale gets stuck somewhere along the way when he paws at her hips, shuffling her around until she’s straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock and he lets out a heartfelt grunt when she moves her achy cunt over him.  

“You like this? Such a needy little thing, yeah?” He helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips; dragging her against his cock, filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them.  

“Rafe, can you…”  

“Can I what, hm? Play with you a little?” He says as he slips a hand in her panties, fingers petting at her puffy clit and a loud moan leaves her when she lifts the fabric of her shirt up in order to have a better view.  

“Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl. Getting real fucking wet from me just being close to you, yeah?” His thumb rubs lazy circles on her sensitive button, making her cry out his name as she presses down harder against his cock. 

“Shit, gonna come in my fucking pants if you keep doing that. You wanna know what else was in my dream?” 

She nods, frantic.  

“I pushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,” he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. “And then, I did this,” he mutters as he takes himself out from the confines and her eyes round out as she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head of his cock on her clit, one, two, three times, and then smears it on her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt.  

“Rafe…” she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, he’s feeling a little mean, pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out, turning her into a whimpering mess. The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked down to where they connect, fascinated.  

“Fuck, Sweetheart, does that feel nice?” He asks, swiping a thumb over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper, forcing a loud noise to leave her throat.  

“Feels so good, Rafe, I think I’m gonna…” she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him.  

“You’re gonna come already?” he chuckles, amusement coating his face, nudging his dick about halfway in and out, never fully plunging it inside of her though.  

“You feel so good, I can’t— can’t hold it,” water droplets are gathering in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as teary eyes look into larimar and she rolls her hips against him, chasing after some sort of release. 

“Shit, go on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?” He encourages her and she doesn’t need to be told twice; crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and she’s unspooling on top of him. 

“There you go, just fucking give it to me,” he grunts and all of a sudden, he feels his own orgasm approaching; rolling down a hill like a landslide. She’s squeezing around him so tight, he can’t help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he stuffs his cock profoundly into her, to the hilt.  

He stills inside her and then he’s groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brim; making her feel so full. She thinks she could die happy right now.  

There’s so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where they’re connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing.  

She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him, burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs.  

“Did so good for me, shit, we should do this more often, yeah?” He says with a sleepy tinge.   

And she’s completely out of it, head as empty as ever, merely managing an amorphous hum in agreement; tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber. 

[fastandcarlos]

One More Won’t Hurt, Right? : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: watching your family at the paddock gives charles all the feels

Your eyes glanced to your left as you overheard someone clearing their throat, watching as Charles walked into the driver’s room, taking his rightful spot beside you, offering you a warm smile.

His attention was soon captured however by the pair of giggles that came from across the room, your two children playing happily with each other until they realised that their dad had re-entered the room.

“Daddy! You’re here!” Your daughter squealed, unsteadily rising to her feet.

“Hey princess,” Charles grinned, kneeling down so that he was at the same height to her, engulfing her in his embrace. “I hope you’ve been good for mummy.”

Her head nodded as her arms loosely wrapped around Charles’ neck. “We’ve been really good,” she giggled, feeling a kiss be pressed by Charles against her cheek.

He’d spent the past couple of hours having his final practice before qualifying, and although the car itself didn’t feel great, all of that was forgotten as soon as he was back with his family – his three favourite humans.

“We missed you.” Your daughter then suddenly added, taking Charles by surprise.

The two of you had done a great job raising your kids, plenty of people around the paddock complimented you on how well mannered and kind they both were.

It didn’t take long for your son to join in with the action, throwing himself at Charles with a groan. Luckily for him, Charles just about managed to react in time and pull his son into the other side of his embrace.

“Daddy, we played with cars, ate ice cream, and mummy even let us go up onto the roof terrace,” your son hurriedly informed Charles, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“I hope you were watching daddy’s car,” he teased, pulling back to study them both, chuckling loudly when they both nodded back at him.

“Let’s finish our drawing,” your daughter suggested, pointing to the pieces of paper on the floor, dragging your son away from his father. Charles’ brows furrowed but your daughter insisted that he was not allowed to see anything.

As the two ran away, Charles stood back up again, snaking his arm around your waist as you both continued to watch your children smile and joke with each other.

“How did we do it?” Charles pondered, feeling your eyes staring back at him. “I mean, how did we get so lucky to create two perfect babies?”

Your shoulders shrugged as you felt Charles press a gentle kiss against your lips, pulling you closer towards him the moment he felt you linger a little longer than you should in such a place.

Your smile was wide as you pulled away, “they must have got the good genes of their mum.”

Charles’ eyes went wide as you spoke, jabbing into your side to make you squeal, pushing his hand away from you.

“We’ve really got the perfect family,” Charles whispered, resting his head against the top of yours in admiration.

“What are you doing?” Your son called out, cringing as he watched the two of you affectionately hold onto one another, everything that your kids hated to see.

“We’re making a baby,” Charles blurted out, earning himself a slap on the chest from you. Luckily for Charles, your son was far too innocent to understand, simply nodding his head.

“Okay,” he shrugged, averting his eyes back to his drawing.

Although the time wasn’t now, you knew in a few years your son would be the image of Charles, they had the same cheeky humour that had everyone around him in fits of giggles.

“I can’t believe that you’d tell him that.”

“Would it be such a bad thing?” Charles challenged as your stare hardened, eyes looking at him in disbelief. “The first two turned out pretty perfect, why not see if we can make it a hattrick?”

You found yourself speechless for a few moments as you tried to take in what Charles had said. Sure, the two of you discussed having another baby sometimes, but never as seriously as Charles seemed to be right now.

“What are you thinking?” Charles asked you, trying his best to read you and get a picture of what you were thinking.

“That you’re an idiot,” you joked.

“I’m right though, aren’t I?” He pushed, “one more won’t hurt, right?”

“Charles, are we really doing this now?” You chuckled, taking a look around the room.

“Why not? I mean, we could ask Carlos to take the kids for a bit,” he whispered.

Your hand hit against his chest once again, sure, a third child would be like a dream, but Charles’ driver room was not where you wanted that dream to become a reality.

“How long have you actually been thinking about this?” You enquired, keen to know where his sudden enthusiasm had come from.

“Honestly, since the day that I met you,” he admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“The second I met you I knew that I wanted you to be my forever, but more so than that I knew that you were going to be the best mother to my kids. Truthfully, that day I decided I wanted a family of thousands, just to see you be the best mum in the world.”

There was a moment of silence between you both as Charles took your hand. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing good in life was, but he was absolutely determined that the two of you would make it all work.

When you remained silent, Charles cleared his throat. “Why don’t we have a think when we’re back at home, sit down and really think about if this is something we should do.”

If you were honest, you didn’t need time to think. Your mind was made up. Having another mini Charles running around the apartment was something you adored.

“Let’s do it…but perhaps when the kids aren’t around,” you smiled.

“My offer still stands,” Charles teased, but your head shook, you could never move your kids when they were having so much fun.

“Later.”

“Like, tonight later?” Charles whispered close against your ear, pressing a trail of kisses down the length of your neck.

“Play your cards right,” you hummed in response, trying your best to avoid Charles’ advances beside you.

You knew what he was doing. And so did he. But he just couldn’t resist the temptation of trying.

“Later,” you repeated, untangling yourself from his hold. “Duty calls,” you smirked, just as your daughter called you both over. Charles’ eyes rolled as he walked over too, keeping his eyes firmly on you.

“I’m holding you to that one.

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[delirious-donna]

The Temporary Assistant [Higuruma Hiromi]

an: I’ve been obsessed with the exhausted lawyer for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve written a fic for him… please be kind cause I baby.

pairing: Higuruma Hiromi x female reader

warnings: NSFW, pwp, established relationship, reader is assumed to be a little bit on the booby side, pseudo boss/subordinate dynamic, spit as lube (don’t do this folks), Higuruma is a breasts man, nipple play, little prep, cumshot

Masterlist

“She quit. What do you mean, she quit?”

Higuruma massaged his tired eyes in steady circles, huffing out a laugh at your exasperated questioning and the equally perplexed look on your face.

“Darling, I don’t know how else to phrase it other than the young lady no longer works for me,” he offered with fatigue lacing his tone. It was late, and he didn’t want to be having this conversation for the third time today. The first had been with his partner at the law firm they jointly owned, and the second with the agency supervisor his previously employed assistant worked for.

Nanami hadn’t been surprised at the news, a fact that bothered Hiromi more than he cared to admit. His partner was not one for pulling his punches, so Hiromi was accustomed to his sometimes blunt manner of speaking, but it still hurt to think that Kento had seen something coming that he had been blindsided by.

“I’m only surprised she lasted this long.” Those were his parting words as Hiromi stalked dejectedly back to his office at Nanami’s insistence that his assistant would be far too busy to spread her attention to them both. Not words he’d been happy to hear.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Higuruma. That’s not like her, but I’m afraid it’ll be at least two weeks until I can provide a replacement.” The agency supervisor sounded genuinely shocked at the sudden resignation, and his day simply went from bad to worse.

Hiromi flopped onto the couch, his head lolling back with his eyes sliding shut from the weight of his fatigue. It had been mounting all day, and now that he was home, where he should be finding solace in the comfort of his surroundings and his loving wife’s embrace, he was hit suddenly with a fresh reminder of the shit he’d landed in.

A soft hand caressed the side of his neck, inducing a shiver of relief. It was followed by the weight of your body settling over his spread thighs, your head resting against his shoulder. His suit jacket still hung from his lithe frame, the button undone and the shirt beneath badly wrinkled from the long commute home, but you didn’t care about his untidiness. 

He felt every quiet exhale fan his throat, the ghost of a smile finding its way to his face despite it all. Your nimble fingers burrowed into the knot of his tie, loosening it until you could pull it free and toss it away. “What are you going to do, Hiromi? I know you have that court date coming up… it’s a busy time. How about Nanami’s assistant?”

“Not an option. I already tried,” he muttered with a shrug. 

Opening his eyes, he peered down at you tucked into the crook of his neck, a hand inside the collar of his shirt and your nails grazing gentle patterns over his collarbone. He chewed his lip, fearful to broach the idea planted by his partner when his foot was almost out the door. “You could always ask your wife…”

Selfishly, he indulged himself in your affections, your scent that permeated every corner of the home you shared and let his fingers, stiff from the cold, warm against your feminine curves. You might not be so keen to indulge him once he suggested you work as his temporary assistant, so he would take what he could until push came to shove.

“Your fingers are icy, Hiro. Come here,” you chided with a click of the tongue, though he knew it was only born of concern for his health. Hiromi hummed happily, grateful when you pressed his palms together with yours on either side and blew hot air to dispel the chill.

“What would I do without you?” He whispered, sitting upright and nudging your nose with his when you glanced at him. Hiromi’s eyes drooped, heat dusted his cheeks at the proximity, and when you let out an airy giggle… he swore he swooned all over again. Just as he had when he first met you and fell in love.

He doubted he would be in the position he was today had it not been for you. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he would be here at all if he hadn’t met you when he did, but that was a story for another day.

You admired the side profile of your husband, eyes low and hazy with appreciation of his strong jaw and prominent nose that hooked just so at the end. “Good thing you’ll never have to know.”

Hiromi groaned aloud, burying his face between the soft skin of your décolleté. His cool lips skimmed the tops of your breasts, first on one side then turning to the other, making you shudder and hum. Your fingers threaded through his black hair, tugging firmly at the roots just how he liked, and his hips jerked in response.

A great fuck and a good night’s sleep would fix him, you were certain of it. It wouldn’t resolve his work issue, but Hiromi worked better with a clear mind, and you knew it was murky as bog water right now. Your man was a brilliant lawyer, dedicated to working towards a more just legal system for those normally underrepresented along with his partner, but he was a terrible workaholic.

You couldn’t count the nights he traipsed home from the office at an ungodly hour only to drag his tired body into his home office to continue where he left off. Only coming to bed when you physically dragged him away from his keyboard and desk with threats of pain and not the kind he typically enjoyed.

It couldn’t be easy to be his assistant, though you knew damn well that he was a good man. The poor girl probably had enough of the endless expectations and incessantly long hours which were necessary to get through all of his demands because he refused to finish at five like normal people. On the few occasions you’d stopped by his office, you could see the fraught expression written all over her young face and how her eyes pleaded with you to distract her boss enough so she could catch up with the mountain of requests waiting for her attention. Poor girl…

Ready to go to town on your poor overworked and stressed husband, you rocked your pelvis against the seam of his zipper, pushing his head further into your chest whilst his cock twitched and hardened beneath you. Hiromi practically purred, the sound muffled and vibrated right down into your soul. The possibilities were endless, and you were considering if you should slide to the floor and bathe his cock in your spit or ride him until all that wicked tension left his body when he suddenly paused.

His hands moved to your waist, the pressure firmer than expected and he gently slid you back along his knees so you were no longer planted over his poorly concealed erection. The flicker of guilt burnt in his whisky-smoked eyes, and it soured your smile. Hiromi shook his head and exhaled deeply, his eyes flitting away from yours.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered.

“You… can’t fuck your wife?” Your voice broke into a laugh that had nothing to do with amusement and everything to do with the bitter twist of uncertainty in your stomach. “Since when?”

“Don’t say that. I want to, but I need to ask you something first.” Hiromi cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press what he hoped were reassuring kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. “Then you can decide if you still wanna… y’know.”

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion forming like a snake ready to strike, and your arms folded tightly across your chest. He swallowed nervously, struggling not to ogle your beautiful breasts that he would be fully buried in by now and likely suckling on had it not been for his damned conscience. 

“Spit it out, Higuruma.”

Oh, he was in trouble.

Hiromi cleared his throat and fixed you with a beseeching look. “Will you be my assistant?” He rushed on when you visibly bristled. “It’s only for two weeks until the agency can find me a replacement and, and… it was Kento’s idea!”

“Throwing Kento under the bus isn’t going to save your hide, Mr Higuruma!” You slid sideways onto the couch, ignoring the groan of disappointment from beside you. “You know very well I am in the midst of my PhD. How could you think it would be feasible for me to come work in your office as an errand girl for a fortnight?”

“Well… I have a plan,” he said, both pointer fingers coming together as he continued to give you the best impression of those adorable dogs with the droopy eyes.

When he didn’t elaborate immediately, your eyebrows rose and you nudged his knee with yours. 

“R-right. I know you’ve been writing your paper here at home. So, I thought that maybe I could also work from home. You could help me out and continue your work in between the things I need.”

Dammit, that wasn’t quite the terrible idea you had initially anticipated. You eyed your husband from head to toe, and he desperately tugged at your folded arms until he could take your hands into his. He kissed across your knuckles, nuzzling his cheek, rough from a faint five o’clock shadow, into the back of your hands.

“Hiromi…” you warned, but he was almost too overjoyed to hear his given name once more to heed the warning in your voice.

“Two weeks. That’s all. And I promise not to ask for too much, only the absolute necessities that I can’t manage myself. Please?”

How could you deny him when he asked so sweetly and especially when you knew just how under the cosh he was with his upcoming trial? It would only interfere with your deadlines if he didn’t uphold his promises, but you chose to believe that he would. After all, Hiromi was rather keen on keeping his balls attached to his body.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

~

The first week went by without incident. It was an adjustment, to say the least, but once you found your feet and Hiromi got used to not having to leave at the arse crack of dawn, it was rather lovely to see more of your handsome husband.

Being able to sit down at the small kitchen table to eat lunch together was a daily treat, and it filled you with triumph when he would eagerly seek you out in the kitchen with his nose sniffing out whatever delicious treat you had prepared that day. Ensuring Hiromi ate during the working day was, more often than not, a struggle, with several text messages bouncing back and forth until he acquiesced–but not now.

Maybe it was the lure of stolen kisses or the giggles shared when you called him Mr Higuruma, breathlessly pressing your body into his and squealing playfully when he pawed at your backside in turn.

You’d be lying if you weren’t enjoying the pseudo roleplay of boss and subordinate. Playing pretend with a power balance that didn’t translate to your relationship outside this current scenario. There was no top or bottom, no dominant or submissive, just two people enraptured by each other. Sometimes you led, and other times he did. Your marriage was well-balanced, and you loved that about Hiromi. He wasn’t threatened by a woman that initiated, in fact, he loved it—loved you. So this new experience, where he was large and in charge at all times, was certainly thrilling, but not everything was smooth sailing. 

Hiromi was demanding, to say the least. When he was engrossed in a specific piece of work, he had a way of speaking that made you want to smack him round the head with one of his many manila folders, preferably one of the thicker ones.

No wonder his assistant had quit if he regularly spoke to her in the clipped manner you had heard on more than several occasions now. Only your intimate knowledge of the man kept your tongue in your head and your hand away from the folders. Niceties were time-consuming when he was against the clock. He didn’t mean to be cold, and you told yourself this over and over, but it still hurt, just a little.

Higuruma could get used to this. 

He idly wondered how he would feasibly make the transition back to office working once this temporary fix came to an end. He didn’t miss his morning commutes, the packed trains that felt like being crammed into sardine tins, nor the chill of the office before the heating had a chance to warm the rooms sufficiently. 

It was a treat to be able to roll out of bed and right into his desk chair. If he wanted to start at 6am, he could, though you would chastise him thoroughly if he dared to. He knew you liked your morning snuggles, and so did he. Waking slowly to your soft snores which he liked to call purrs, and soaking in the smell of your sleep-soaked skin whilst his hands roamed every inch of your softness he could reach. It made it easier to escape the clutches of sleep, knowing you were waiting for him.

However, the star attraction of the current situation was you. Never had he cast an appreciative eye over one of his assistants, not even before he met you, but you were his wife, and he couldn’t help but gawk at his sheer dumb luck. There was something altogether forbidden about the fantasies in his head which, of course, made them all the more alluring.

The first few days at home he had stayed in comfortable clothing, favouring the sweats he’d wear around the house on the weekends and his old college sweater, but quickly, he realised that this didn’t work for him. He needed the structure of his routine even if he wasn’t venturing past his front door, so the suits returned—starched collars and a black tie at his throat. As if to match his energy, you started to dress formally too, and what a treat that was.

Pencil skirts that he didn’t think he’d ever seen, blouses that nipped in your waist, pinafore dresses that swished around your thighs and most decadent of all–lace-topped stockings. 

You were driving him to distraction, and the worst of it was that he was certain you didn’t realise. It made him sound shorter than he liked, his words coming out clipped, and his pleasantries sounded cursory rather than heartfelt. You were doing your best to accommodate his needs whilst still working on your paper, and here he was, wishing to bend you over his desk to run his nose and mouth over your squidgy thighs, the meat of your backside and the seat of your underwear until it soaked through with his saliva.

By the time the second week rolled around, Higuruma was a volcano, ready and raring to erupt at the slightest breeze or incident. The lunchtime kisses were no longer satiating his desires, nor were the evenings spent worshipping at the altar of your puffy, spit-covered pussy. It wasn’t enough to scratch this very specific itch.

“I’ve made the copies you asked for, Hiromi. I’ve also updated your calendar with the pre-agenda meeting that came through from the opposing side. Was there anything else for now?”

Hiromi audibly moaned when your wrist grazed his fingers, setting down the documents in question and lingering by his side, waiting for an answer. He tugged sharply at the knot of his tie, feeling choked for air—starved of logic. 

As he glanced up at you, he paused. Your bottom lip was held fast between your teeth, eyes positively alight with playful mischief. So maybe you were more aware of the thick-as-sticky treacle tension than he gave you credit for. He fixed the cuffs of his shirt in an attempt to mask the shake of his hands, setting his pen down before leaning back in his chair. It creaked in protest, and you raised a hand to stifle a laugh. 

“Actually, there is something else, and it cannot be put off a moment longer,” he drawled with a tone that suggested he was going to dictate a letter or something equally menial. 

You were not expecting him to spin his chair towards you and yank you down by the arm into his lap. The shriek that left you was genuine, only silenced towards the end by the firm melding of warm, insistent lips. His hands were everywhere and all at once; squeezing the tops of your arms, ripping at the buttons that hid your cleavage from him and skimming beneath the tight hold of your skirt until it rucked around your hips.

There was such urgency to his movements that you struggled to catch up, but finally, you broke apart from his mouth, saliva strands webbing and breaking apart as your tongue passed through them and across your swollen lips. “Mr Higuruma! What would your wife say?” 

It was meant as a spicy joke, a nod to the little games that had been at play and the dynamic the two of you had fallen into, but you sensed immediately that it didn’t go over well. He stopped fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, half of them free from their holes and the lace of your bra now prominently on show, breasts firmly squeezed together given the constraints of the material.

“I-I would… never. I mean…” You watched the desire in his eyes shift to panic, and you shushed him with a finger over his lips. Your heart ricocheted in your chest at the sincerity, and if you believed you couldn’t love him any more than you already did, it proved untrue when you witnessed the devotion that shone in those whisky-coloured eyes.

“I know. It’s okay,” you murmured, closing the distance and trailing your lips over his jaw and up to his ear. “I like it… keep going, please?”

Oh gods, how could he have ever deserved a woman like you in his life? Hiromi whimpered, his eyebrows pinched together, and he felt that final strand of restraint snap clean in two. His lip trembled for a second before he was on you again. Hungry kisses pathed down your throat, a hand at the back of your head to keep you close and manoeuvre you exactly as he wanted.

You scrabbled at his tie, pulling it free with a whip crack until you could toss it behind you and return your focus to his shirt so you could scratch at his chest and leave red welts across his skin.

“No.” The frantic lawyer shook his head, pressing his fingertips over the fresh mark he’d sucked into your neck simply to watch you whine from the pressure of the blooming bruise. “Belt, now.”

Jumping at the ragged command that rasped from Hiromi’s throat, you complied without teasing or complaint. Working the tail of his leather belt through the buckle and sighed at the clatter of the metal when it rattled free to join his tie somewhere unseen in the room.

“Fuck… take it out, please.”

He didn’t wait for you to say anything, nor did he wait for you to pop his top button or lower his zip. He was too focused on freeing your bountiful tits and taking them into his mouth. Your eyes raised to the heavens when his hot needy tongue licked around your nipple, the lace cups shoved down to push your breast up and into his face. 

For long moments, you only watched as he laved you with his spit, lips drawn around your pert buds to elicit that deep-seated squirm of pleasure that echoed between your thighs. Hiromi lifted his gaze to your face, making sure you watched as he sandwiched your breast together with his broad palms so he could suckle both nipples at once. Your jaw slackened, your stomach sucked in, and your hips undulated atop his thighs.

It invigorated the tightness of your hold on his cock, drawing it out of his briefs followed by his heavy balls to stroke him hard and fast. He could take it, you knew that, his purpled cockhead sticky from precum that painted your fingers and palm. You paused with his foreskin pulled back, fingers ringing his base to use your other hand to tickle the seam of his balls. He jerked up with a muffled grunt, a resounding pop echoing in the study when his lips pulled free of your breasts.

“Need you, Sir. Please, want this,” you paused to squeeze his shaft in emphasis, “Inside me.”

“Little fucking temptress, you know that? Should’ve bent you over this desk days ago…” He growled against your collarbone, marking it with his teeth.

Higuruma stood abruptly. You squealed and anchored an arm around his neck, refusing to give up your possessive grab of his throbbing dick. He turned and shoved the back of his chair flush against the edge of his desk to stabilise it before dropping you into the leather seat and folding your legs back to your chest. 

His rough fingers pinched into the fat of your thighs, fiddling with the sticky bands of your lace stockings and damn near ripped them. You would have complained had it not been for the raw emotions written all over Hiromi’s face, his eyes fixed on the seat of your underwear and the obvious stain that was caused by his ministrations.

Bending his knees to drop closer to you, he savoured your mouth with his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips to curl over your teeth. He filled his hands with the fat of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and massaging the roundness with little gentleness. It was all you could do to moan, the sounds swallowed greedily only to be replaced by a pleading keen when he tugged your underwear away from your cunt. The fabric bunched around your knees, and you assumed he’d move back to remove them fully, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the material until it was tight around the bend of your knees, pinning you in place. 

His long slender fingers stroked your pretty slit, coming away with remnants of your arousal and using it to mix with his precum that continued to weep onto your hand. Hiromi’s head sagged forward, black hair falling into his eyes as a long string of saliva fell from what he’d gathered behind his teeth to your sensitive clit. He smeared it around the bundle of nerves, scissoring his fingers until he could tug it feverishly.

“Hiro… fuck me already. Goddammit, I’m gonna blow,” you whined, painfully aware that you were dangling by a thread.

You helped him lead his cock to your entrance, tapping it against your folds to see the tendons in his neck strain and giving you some semblance of smug satisfaction. When he finally notched where you needed him most, your breathing was coming so rapidly you faintly worried you might pass out from this. The air was so thick you struggled to inhale, drowning in this faux forbidden tryst.

He groaned, long and low. His nose nudged into your warm cheek as he bent even lower and pushed into your velvet heat. “That’s it. This pretty pussy is sucking me in—fuck—oh, you like that?” He teased, his hips drawing back only to plunge in again, and deeper this time when he felt you clench around him.

You gripped his forearms, head lolling against the headrest when his cock reached your depths, and the coarse midnight patch of hairs at his pelvis rubbed delicious friction into your pert little pearl. 

“Mhm… mhm. Keep going. Don’t stop.”

Higuruma could have laughed at the absurdity of your words. What made you think he could stop even if he wanted to? You were hugging him too perfectly, pulling him back in each time he withdrew his hips. The rhythmic pap of his full-to-bursting balls against the split of your ass rocketed him closer and closer to the finish point, enough so that he fisted the base of his dick to stave off his looming orgasm. He wasn’t ready for this to end, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop either.

The tails of his shirt escaped his trousers and obscured the view of his cock disappearing into your warm cunt, and he growled in frustration. You were so close to the precipice of your orgasm that you didn’t realise why he was growling, only moaning at the primal noise and clenching down hard enough that Hiromi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Releasing his hold on your thighs, he grinned wolfishly at the imprints of his fingertips on the backs of your legs. With his heart pounding rapidly, he ripped his shirt up his torso and gripped the material between his teeth. His cock sawed in and out at a pace that was losing its rhythm at an alarming rate. 

He’d never looked like this before, crazed with desire and burning heat covering the apples of his cheeks. The whisky smoke in his eyes was barely visible due to how blown out his pupils were, and you lifted a hand to caress his cheek. His eyes cut to you, hips rotating whilst buried against your cervix, and with a sharp nod, he asked you to cum for him. His thumb sought out your clit, working it from side to side whilst his balls drew painfully tight and the first lick of molten heat dripped at the base of his spine.

Your eyes rolled over, limbs going lax and pliant pinned between the chair and his body. Your toes curled within your stockings, thighs trembling and butterflying open onto the arms of the chair. Hiromi rode out your high, slowing himself just so, but he couldn’t hold back for too long.

With a willpower that shocked him, he pulled out at the last moment and pumped himself until thick viscous spurts of cum shot across your exposed breasts and stained the blouse covering your stomach. He convulsed so intensely his knees nearly buckled, long drawn-out whimpers ripping from his throat, and you watched it all through hooded, blissed-out eyes. 

Hiromi sagged forward, his forehead pressed against yours as he fought to catch his breath. His cock twitched as it softened, the sensation worsened by your toying little fingers exploring his sensitive skin and rubbing the mixture of his and your arousal into his pelvis and across his balls. He didn’t know what to say. The fantasy lived out was so much more than his imagination could conjure, but he still felt a little vulnerable now it was over.

He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and licked over his parched lips. Words caught in his throat, but they were cut off by the trill of his phone on the desk as it vibrated across the wood. You handed it to him with a shy smile, and he answered it after smoothing back his hair.

“Mr Higuruma?”

“S-speaking,” he answered, clearing his throat urgently.

“I’m calling from Clerical Angels. Unfortunately, I have bad news. It is going to be another week before a new assistant can start. I’m sorry for the delay, I know it must be an inconvenience…”

Your eyes widened at the conversation you could hear as clear as day, meeting his steady gaze with cheeks that burned with a combination of mild embarrassment and intrigue. One more week.

“Not at all. I think I can cope, my wife is happy to bend over backwards for me.”

Oh, Hiromi would pay for that comment… but not for at least another week.

[ssahotchnerr]

i just want a hug from Hotch so bad!!! 😭🤧 can i request a sunshiney and oblivious reader and Hotch hugging and sharing his coat bc she forgot hers and insists it’s too cold for Hotch to just give her his, so obviously the smartest solution is just to share hehehe? 🥰 and ofc the team makes fun of him bc he’s a huge softie for her!!! ❤️🍯

tysm! i absolutely adore your fics!

survival instincts

AWWWW cw; fem bau sunshine!reader, established relationship, playful banter and fluff <3

Patience was a virtue, one you felt as if you exhibited thoroughly. You were easygoing, positive, sensible when it came to others.

So waiting for the local PD to wrap up their analysis of the crime scene would've been fine, if the temperature hadn't been plummeting by the minute.

And you hadn't foolishly left your coat back at the precinct.

Your nose was numbing, you were beginning to shiver in place; the sun wasn't there to provide any supplemental warmth. The clouds were a menacing, gloomy gray that was darkening, with the tiniest bit of gleam coming from behind. In an hour or so, night would be upon you.

You breathed out, watching your breath fan out in a cloud, hoping it would entertain you enough to stop thinking about your growing frigidness. Your gaze furthered past it as it expanded, landing on Aaron and his warm coat.

The visual caused you to think about the earlier morning, warm in the comfort of bed. Laid beside Aaron, enveloped in the weak comforter the hotel had to offer - which didn't matter with the warmth he consistently provided. You would've done anything to go back to the moment. And so, a plan to remedy your problem quickly developed in your mind.

"Aaron." You whisper-yelled, despite the fact he was a mere foot away. His eyes were locked forward, without a doubt ensuring the crime scene wasn't being compromised by the officers poking around.

His brown eyes found yours, "Hm?"

"I'm cold." You whined with a playful pout, your eyes begging for help.

"Then maybe you should've remembered a coat." He teased, hands buried in his coat pockets.

You quipped by use of a cheeky expression in return. You gazed at the asphalt below, the wind whipping your hair around your face. You mumbled a feigned, solemn, "Maybe."

He began prying his coat off his shoulders, "Here, let me-"

"No silly. Then you'll be cold. And we can't have that, can we?" You rolled your eyes, bringing yourself in front of him. You slid your arms around his middle, underneath his coat - thankfully unbuttoned - and embracing him tightly.

The long coat he wore was loose enough to shield your sides, provided mild coverage from the wind, and whatever was left was made up from his body heat. Immediately, you began regaining warmth head to toe.

"Sweetheart, this isn't very convenient." You felt his chuckle rumble through him, gently jostling your head as it rest on his chest. But still his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "Or professional, given the circumstances."

"This is merely a survival technique." You mumbled insistently into his shirt, a smile tugging at your lips. "Close contact preserves body heat. I'm just doing what it takes to survive. I don't think the Bureau would be very happy if one of their agents froze to death while on the job."

Aaron hummed at the stretch of your proposition. "Well, I think the Bureau would presume their agents would have the intention to bring a coat."

You scoffed lightly, causing him to laugh again. "Well, do you have a better idea?"

"Yeah, you could just wear my-"

"I already told you no. And my supporting evidence," You insisted, your voice laced an almost, mischievous wisdom. "You're just getting over a cold, which won't be returning if there's anything I can do about it. Plus there's a reason I call you a furnace. This, you," You tightened your hold on his as if to prove your point. "Can supply me with more warmth than a coat ever could."

He laughed softly. Again it was leaning more on the rigid side, conscious of any wandering eyes. He did, however, sneak a quick kiss to the top of your head. "If you say so."

You closed your eyes, releasing a content sigh and savoring the warmth, as well as Aaron's contact. One of his hands softly brushed a spot along your back. However, your shared moment of solitude was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Aww, can I join?" Derek gushed, shit-eating grin on his face. JJ had an equally as smug grin as she trailed up from behind him.

You shot him a look, one that read ha-ha funny as well as amused, while Aaron subtly narrowed his eyes. He then turned his head in the opposite direction, his cheek resting against your head comfortably.

"Cuddling on the job, huh? What would Strauss have to say about this?" Morgan continued to tease, and Dave even took out his phone, discreetly snapping a picture.

"He's just doing his job. Looking out for a team member by preventing potential frostbite. Or hypothermia, even." You arched an eyebrow playfully, your fingers clutching onto the fabric of Aaron's shirt underneath his coat. "And there's nothing wrong with that."

[httpsserene]

Speaking of Mr. Daniel, we all know that he injured himself a while ago. How about the reader faking an orgasm because she doesn’t want to tire or injure him? Daniel frowns immediately upon noticing, but the nurse kicks you out because it’s past hours, and he's longing for the reader. He tries to grab the reader to come back but winces in pain, proving the reader's point. Your pleasure is extremely important to him so he’ll stop functioning if you said otherwise.

𝖍��𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊'𝖘 2𝕶 𝕾𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 | 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕯𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖊𝖑 𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖔 𝕰𝖉𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐆𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐆𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬

Summary: When Daniel isn’t feeling well, it’s no hardship for her to take of him. Except this time, he broke his hand and is proceeding to be an absolute nightmare to take care of. They haven’t had sex since before the accident in Zandvoort because she’s afraid that somehow she’ll end up aggravating his injury. Daniel, however, has convinced himself that he only exists to bring her pleasure. So, she comes up with a plan to soothe his service dom tendencies. Enter, Operation Fake Orgasm. How hard can it be? Spoiler alert: she’s a terrible actress. Pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black-coded!reader(her skintone isn't referenced but she has braids.) Content Warning: 18+ only. mdni. explicit sexual content. orgasm/delay denial. hurt/comfort. caretaking. servicedom!daniel. discussion of pain medication, injuries, and hospitals. dom/sub undertones. sub/shy!reader. praise kink mentioned. sensual beard shaving (it's hot). wet dreams. somnophilia. safe, sane, and consensual. oral sex (m and f receiving). vaginal sex. fake orgasm. mentioned multiple orgasms. Word Count: 3.6k words

Author's Notes: if the tags scare you, i promise it's not that bad!

secondly, thank you for the patience concerning the delay. my sister is doing a lot better now! she had an allergic reaction to pollen; she inhaled so much that her lungs freaked the fuck out on her, and i was in the hospital from 9am-9pm all day. finally got back home so i'm posting it, way late, but at least it's on the same day.

to make up for it, even though my lil sis was nearly taken out by the environment (i'm joking i love her i'm just being a big sister rn), i am releasing episode four on friday! and episode five on either tuesday or wednesday next week!

i hope you all like this episode xxx

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The sound of bedsheets ruffling contrasts with the monotonous beeps of the heart monitor filling the sterile hospital room; the noise is more than enough to have you snapping your head away from your phone to look at your boyfriend. Daniel’s awake and he meets your eyes with a soft groan. You coo at him softly, squeezing his hand gently as he reorients himself.

“What time ‘st?” Daniel croaks out. You cringe at the sound of his dry speech and quickly hand him the glass of water resting at his bedside.

“It’s getting late, baby,” you hum, not failing to notice the slight wince he does when his cast knocks against the bed rail, “I sent Michael back to the hotel not too long ago, around 7. Charles, Lando, Max, and Oscar came and kept me company while you were in surgery. Oscar, I think, was pretty shaken up still—to me, I could tell he felt a little guilty that you’re here with a broken hand and he’s as right rain—so, maybe when you’re more clear-headed you can reach out to him. Yuki and Michael were here the first time you woke up. Still, you were so high on your pain medication cocktail, that I think you were hearing colors and seeing sounds,” you break from your ramble, suddenly standing and reaching over the bed to press the call button, remembering the nurse told you to alert her as soon as he woke again.

“Yes?” Daniel offers, unsure of how to respond to the edge in your tone, “I’m feeling better by the way—.”

A hysterical giggle slips from your lips, and you can see the regret wash over his face when you meet his eyes with a crazed look, “Forgive me, for not asking how you were feeling right away Daniel. It’s almost like, my brain isn’t working properly because I’m fucking worried about you. Yeah? I watched you crash into the barriers, and I heard you in pain—I called everyone on your team to get updates and nobody answered! So, I got on the next flight to Zandvoort after Michael finally texted me with updates, with no luggage, just my phone and a change of clothes—so forgive me, for not checking in on you right away, after you didn’t call me once,” you blink rapidly and Daniel softens, clearly it was a terrible time to deflect with humor, he just hates to see you worry about him, that’s why he avoided calling. He’s usually the one taking care of you.

“A-are you feeling better, though?” you ask shakily, deflating quickly at the sight of his warm brown eyes, “You’re going to set off every metal detector for the foreseeable future.”

“It’s like a 6 out 10 on the pain scale—”

“That’s what I’m here for,” the nurse interrupts in accented English, smiling at the two of you briefly before she moves to Daniel’s side and catching him up on the outcome of the surgery and discussing pain medication. 

“Visiting hours ended an hour ago,” the nurse speaks to you directly, “Did nobody come to escort you out?”

You shake your head in surprise, the time on your phone reads 9 PM—you have no recollection of time passing that quickly since Michael left. Gathering your few belongings, you lean down to kiss Daniel gently, “Be good for the doctors and nurses, Danny. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?”

“No, what—she can’t stay?” Daniel begs the nurse, and she frowns at him apologetically.

Ruffling his hair, you continue, “It’s not her fault—she’s just doing her job. And, we’re besties now,” Daniel stares at you confused, “She’s been coming to check up on me the entire time you decided to cosplay Sleeping Beauty so if you decide to be difficult overnight, she will not hesitate to snitch on you to me. Understand?”

Daniel swallows before nodding jerkily, “Can I have another kiss?”

It’s an easy ask for you to fulfill; but as your lips barely brush his, Daniel hisses out in pain. He tried to use his left hand to pull you closer to him, obviously aggravating the injury. You exclaim worriedly and he tries to pretend that the flare of pain wasn’t that severe. But, as the nurse reassures you that the pain meds will kick in and he’ll go right to sleep, you’ve already decided: that hand will never be in a situation that causes Daniel unnecessary pain again. 

You tell Daniel that same sentence on the flight back to Monaco. He assumed that meant you’d force him to wear a sling or have it constantly cushioned and elevated (which you did anyway). However, he should’ve asked you to elaborate because he was completely blindsided to learn that you really meant all situations. 

You may have gone overboard the first week. You’re well aware that his hand is the only broken thing on his body, but you pamper him as if he’s bedridden with the most severe flu seen in the last century. You cook and order him hearty meals, you have alarms set for when he needs to take his medication, you shower with him to make sure he doesn’t wet his cast—where nothing sexual happens, you killed the vibe the first time he insinuated shower sex in conversation, mentioning the statistics of shower-related deaths—you quickly fulfill all of his requests, even if it’s sitting through a movie you find tasteless; yet, you refuse to fulfill one: sex. 

The doctor pulled you aside while Daniel was getting dressed to be discharged and told you to make sure he’s very careful with his arm, slow and controlled movements only, nothing abrupt. 

And, if there’s one word to describe Daniel during sex, it would probably be abrupt. 

He can’t keep his hands off of you when he’s uninjured. From your first time with Daniel, he showed and proved just how much your pleasure is important to him—he made sure that you understood that he lives and breathes to make you satisfied. But, you also know that he’d ignore his pain if it meant he was making you feel good; and, that’s not something you can risk, not with an injury that could affect his career if it doesn’t heal properly. 

You’ve reiterated that to him multiple times when Daniel tries to deepen kisses, hoping you’ll forget about your stupid sex ban and let him make you feel good. He’s not used to going this long without making sure you’re sexually satisfied. You don’t even allow him to guide you through masturbation, because you know you won’t be satisfied with it even if you get off—it’ll only lead to you falling into his lap begging for more. 

On the eighth day, you’re sitting in Daniel’s lap on the couch, rubbing ointment into the bruises left by the seatbelts of the car. You thought he was focused on watching the entire Dutch Grand Prix he missed out on, not thinking much of how he’s toying with the length of your braids with his uninjured hand. 

You think nothing of the soft sighs, moans, and groans he’s letting out of his mouth as you lightly massage him. All of these noises are common reactions to a sensation that feels good. It sucks that they happen to sound very similar to the moans Daniel makes when he initially fucks into you. You’re just a girl with needs that Daniel never fails to take care of; you’re not used to this, for the same reason Daniel can’t understand why you won’t let him get you off. 

Then, Daniel gasps out a soft ‘fuck’ that has no reason to be sounding that lustful and you start to squirm in his lap. You mindlessly continue to massage him, not exactly proud of the way you continue to strain your ears to hear his noises—and on one particular shift of your hips, you brush across his hard-on that wasn’t there a few minutes ago, and automatically fly off his lap.

In the frantic movement, Daniel tried to use both of his hands to keep you in his lap, irritating his broken hand. You flutter around him worriedly, your words a mix of chastising and displeasure. You don’t hesitate to say that this is exactly why the sex ban is in place (Daniel pleaded that it was a fluke, but you’re not eager to put that to the test).

Three days pass before Daniel deems you relaxed enough to have another attempt at seducing you into an orgasm or two. He approached you in the evening after you had watched him like a hawk as he took his pain medication. He wants you to shave his beard. It’s grown out some since he hasn’t shaved in a week or so. You’re not a professional beard shaver or anything, but you can imagine it’s difficult to shave your face with one hand. And of course, you’d jump at any opportunity to help out your boyfriend and allow him to relax and look pretty. After an unnecessarily long tutorial, Daniel pretends to have 100% faith in your skills and lets you take the first swipe across his cheek. You painstakingly use slow movements and light pressure, not forgetting to pull his skin tight with your other hand and clean the razor off with every stroke. You feel him tense underneath you as you ready to attempt shaving along his jawline. 

Pulling back at the last second, you make to smack his shoulder before hesitating and pinching him instead (it’s his left arm, you don’t want to jostle his cast resting on the bathroom vanity), ignoring his yelp you nag him, “Well, don’t act like I’m about to gouge your throat out or anything! I can feel you freeze up underneath me—it’s not like I want to cut you. I already have to stare at your ugly face every day, I don’t want to make it worse.”

Daniel pretends to be offended at your attack and the two of you bicker back and forth before settling down. The fake roast session calmed Daniel enough that when you brought the razor to his jaw, he remained relaxed. 

You smoothly shave the small area of skin and turn to clean the razor when Daniel speaks softly, “You’re so good,” a slight pause follows, “at this.” 

The praise tingles down your spine and you think nothing of it. Except, it continues. With nearly every swipe along his jaw, he continues to murmur praise with lidded eyes and an alluring tone. Whispers along the lines of ‘good girl,’ ‘just like that,’ ‘you’re so sweet to me,’ and paired with his stare dancing across your face, you dread the moment you finish shaving him. As your razor ventures down his throat, the air grows thick with intimacy. It’s the result of your boyfriend trusting you to repeatedly brush a blade along his throat and your unfortunate kink for praise and acts of service. With the last brush of the razor, you gently set it down on the vanity, exchanging it for cloth you wet with hot water. Ringing it out thoroughly, you gently begin to wipe Daniel’s face avoiding eye contact. When you swipe around his lips, you get distracted by their flushed color, a result of when Daniel bit his lip to make the skin underneath taut for you to shave. His tongue slips out to wet them and you can’t help but smash your lips to his.

It feels euphoric. You’re kissing him frantically, moaning into his mouth without inhibition, and you can feel him laugh as he struggles to match your desperate pace. His hand squeezes at your waist, anchoring you yet furthering your desperation at the strong grip as you try to climb him like a tree, tugging at his hair, shirt, pants, anything you can reach. At this point, Daniel would’ve had a hand in your hair, tugging at your scalp sharply a couple of times to rein you in and move you to his rhythm. You’re a little lost at the missing sensation and you pull away to pout at Daniel like you always do when he spends too much time teasing you.

It takes one look at his blown pupils, smug smile, and heaving chest before it jogs your memory. You step backward quickly to put space between you guys, raising a hand when you see him open his mouth, knowing he’s only going to convince you to get naked for him.

“I’m going to bed,” you state with a pointed finger, “You, are going to get in the shower, with cold water, and think about what you did wrong. And! You will not wake me up for sex.”

Daniel’s face falls, and you can tell he expected you to break, “Wait—you don’t let me shower by myself, what if I fall?”

You turn and leave the room, “It would be divine intervention. Karma, for trying to get me to break my rule.”

Daniel doesn’t wake you when he slips into bed, but you lose the benefit of going to sleep early when you jolt awake before sunrise. Your mouth is dry and your panties are embarrassingly wet. You can’t recall a single detail of your dream. Still, your legs are trembling at whatever scenario your brain decided to torment you with. 

Fuck it. Or fuck him, literally.

That makes sense. You’re going to ride Daniel, it’s the perfect position to make sure he doesn’t move his arm. You work him up beforehand so hopefully he won’t last as long; Daniel has unparalleled stamina usually, but with you constantly denying him for a while…he may wind up quicker. As soon as he cums, you’ll fake yours as well—because he’s only pleased if you're satisfied, otherwise he’ll attempt a round two. It’s that easy, right? You turn on your side and stare at Daniel, his face relaxed as he sleeps. Your synapses start firing as the plan comes to life. The two of you have discussed somnophilia, more on you as the receiving party. Daniel, of course, offered himself to you on a silver platter—any taste of you using him to get off? That’s always going to be a yes from him. So, yes. It is that easy.

You pull the duvet down to the edge of the bed and quietly shift to hover over Daniel’s thighs, never more thankful that he decided to wear only briefs to bed. And that he’s already half-hard; you’re extremely happy that the two of you don’t have a hand on how creative your dreams can get. He doesn’t shift when you pull his cock from underneath his briefs, carefully dragging them

down just enough to not be a bother. He stays under as you get him hard, it only takes a few strokes and some teasing along a vein on the underside. You rise slightly, sucking on two of your fingers before bringing them to rest along your entrance. It’s an annoying experience, you can’t remember the last time you had to stretch yourself out—Daniel’s spoiled you. The feeling of your fingers inside of you is underwhelming, the slight tinge of pleasure would be multiplied if it were him instead but; this is not for you. You are simply performing tonight.

You slide your fingers out and decide on getting Daniel as close to the edge as you can before he wakes up. You lean down to mouth at the head of his cock, knowing it’s incredibly sensitive and the sensation pushes him to the edge quicker than anything else. It can’t be more than a couple of strained minutes—your eyes and ears peeled to make sure you don’t miss any signs of Daniel starting to awaken. Thankfully, you feel him start to pulse along your tongue, a sure sign that he’s getting there.

You pull off, taking a second to breathe as you rest your head on his hip. With one last reassuring exhale, you move to straddle him, one hand underneath you to guide his length to your pussy. The second his head pops into you, you let out a pitiful whimper, eyelids fluttering shut, and your legs begin trembling again. Another realization hits you as you struggle to silently take all of Daniel.

You can’t recall a single time Daniel had forced you to be quiet. He’s always trying to make you scream his name. If he needs to hide your noises he muffles them with a hand over your mouth or his fingers in your mouth. Naturally, you use his tricks and do the same. With two of your fingers shoved in your mouth, you quiet your sounds as your ass meets your (somehow still) sleeping boyfriend's thighs. It feels like he’s in your throat; you know that no matter how long it takes you to make him cum, you’re going to be aching tomorrow. You begin to grind against him, whimpering softened around your digits. You slowly increase your rhythm up to a bounce, doing your best to squeeze around him—Daniel has mentioned before that he can’t resist cumming when you feel like you're trying to keep him inside of you and never let him pull out.

It must work because suddenly Daniel’s hips rock up into yours, and he’s awake with a singular breathy moan of, “Yes—oh, I thought I was still dreaming.”

You laugh airily, letting your spit-slicken fingers fall from your mouth and drop to press against your clit (you’re not actually, you’ve missed it by a mile but it’s all about convincing Daniel), avoiding meeting his eyes knowing Danny will assume it’s under the pretense of you being shy (once again, yes you are incredibly mortified, but you know he’ll be able to tell that you're faking this in a split second).

“H-how long,” Daniel moans out crackly, his abdomen contracting underneath you, “Have you been at this? ‘Gonna make me cum already.”

You nod frantically, moaning out loudly as if you’re on the edge as well. Daniel gets his feet planted and thrusts up into you forcefully enough that your moans turn real. Throwing your head back so he doesn’t see your face in case it gives you away, you continue to moan out exaggeratedly as you feel him cum inside you, pitching your voice and shuddering as if you released as well.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel commands quietly.

You slump forward, sliding off his softening length and nuzzling into his neck to pretend like you didn’t hear him and to hide. He lets you avoid answering the first time he asks. He takes his good hand and fists his hand in the braids along the nape of your neck and tightens his grasp enough to get you to gasp.

“Mhm. When you cum, baby,” he starts softly, “That’s the quietest you ever get during sex. Usually, it’s because you choke on your breath, even though I remind you to breathe through it every time. You do this cute little thing where you try to slam your thighs shut around me, it doesn’t matter if it’s my hand, my head, or my hips, you try to crush me. It’s also one of the only times during sex when you make eye contact with me on your own, well depending on what position I have you in. I won’t repeat myself.”

You mumble into his chest fitfully before sitting up, “I didn’t want you to hurt your hand, okay? That’s all. During sex, you can never stop touching me and I was afraid that somehow you’d treat your hand a little too roughly and then, boom, you’ll never drive a Formula One car again—”

“Calm down, babe,” Daniel soothes you, bringing his right hand to massage your hip, “I think you’ve overdramatized my injury in your head a little bit. Firstly, I don’t even care if my hand suddenly fell off—genuinely, never deprive me of making you feel good. That hurts me more than my hand aches. Secondly, this entire time I didn’t even move my left hand off the bed. See?”

You look down at his hand and nod once. This entire time you enforced a needless sex ban when you could’ve been riding a high every day.

“Now, if you could be kind enough to let me restore my ego,” Daniel taps you on the ass so you rise to kneel over him, “C’mere and sit on my face.”

You hesitate, the thought of pretending to deny him crosses your mind, but you already shorted yourself of one orgasm tonight. That’s how you find yourself riding Daniel’s face, embarrassingly almost losing control of your legs at the first knock of his nose against your clit. Your boyfriend has mastered the skill of eating pussy and that’s why you feel no shame in just how quickly a few targeted thrusts of his tongue and the pressure of his nose have you shattering apart above him. And as Daniel said, you do choke on your breath as you climax, your legs tighten around his head as well—and you don’t have the strength to be humiliated at how he knows your body better than yourself.

Daniel guides you off his mouth and lays you down by his side only using the uninjured arm, and the care and strength behind that movement sends you shaking again through the aftershock and come down. 

Daniel coaxes you onto your back and nudges your legs open to slide in between them. He trails the fingers of his right hand across your fluttering folds, before spreading you open with two fingers, enamored at the way your relaxed entrance winks at him. 

“You can give me one or two more right? I think you need a reminder of how much I thrive off of making you feel good, pretty girl. Let’s see how many more I can get out of you before the sunrise.”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorrari @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @tallrock35 @iloveyou3000morgan @smartstupyd @spideybv28 @lh383 @loomiscorpse @hiireadstuff @namgification @gg-trini @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @multi-fandom-rando @sweatrevenge5436-blog @bokutos-babyowl @oliviah-25 @landoslutmeout @love-simon

© httpsserene 2023

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING DESERVED !!! LANDO N. X DRIVER!FEM!READER (18+)

summary: when she robbed him of a victory, all lando norris could do was retaliate and reward her at the same time (based on this request)

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), use of explicit language, not proofread, marking, dirty talk, dom!lando, praise with degradation (good slut), practically hate sex, brief breath play, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, pure filth from lando

note: saw the request and my hands just slipped and boom! lando norris smut. enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

💌re:moony’s planner is opened!!!

he was so close to his first ever win. 

p1 was on his reach this weekend and with the upgrades on his vehicle, he was confident that his tractor wouldn’t act like one but like an actual race car this time. 

but god sent up a demon in disguise and decided to call it a day after. 

lando was so busy fighting with max for the lead that he’d forgotten about the woman who was once three seconds behind him — to which she overtook the two drivers in the span of a second. their fighting ended in a massive space that she then took and sped off to without any hesitation.

she then defended her position— she was good at that and even verstappen couldn’t deny that he already lost the moment she’d overtaken him. 

but lando was fuming. it was his fucking turn to win— and this woman just decided to strip that opportunity off of him? he wasn’t sure if it was because of the bad blood between him and the only woman in the grid— or the sexual tension that came with their rivalry. 

his p3 celebration was nothing but sour, so regardless of how good he felt at the points he’d earned he still felt like he was robbed of his time to shine.

all thanks to her. 

her, who danced wildly with the rest of the grid as they showered her with their celebrating presence and the joyous energy of the club. 

her, who decided to lay off the alcohol tonight to enjoy her first win of the season without forgetting about tonight. 

her, who grinded her hips with carlos as they both danced scandalously without any intention to take the other back to their place after. 

her, who looked at lando across the dance floor and offered a wide smirk as she taunted him with a wordless expression that told him — i won, you lost. she continued to dance with carlos while she kept her eyes on lando, whose hand gripped the glass of his virgin drink a little too tightly as his temper arose. 

if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t be like this now: his jaw clenched with his face flushing red in frustration while his eyes flickered down her body. he was frustrated, angry, and lustful.

all thanks to her.

her teasing smile and taunting eyes weren’t caused by her victorious result this race weekend and lando knew that.

the way she danced with carlos while she kept her eyes trained on another man told lando enough — that she was chasing after something and it wasn’t the first place. 

she sought for her reward.

but for her to assume that lando was kind enough to hand things to her easily? the british man could only scoff. 

sure she deserved it. but with how she easily took his win away from him, lando wasn’t sure if he'd be nice to hand it to her on a silver plate. she had to work for it.

lando clicked his tongue in a mocking way, pulling himself away from her for a moment as she sobbed.

his eyes trained on her glistening cunt, watching it throb at the emptiness after he edged her for the fourth time tonight. 

maybe it wasn’t ideal to taunt her like this— to fuck her with his mouth then pull away before fucking her with his fingers until she was crying out for more only for him to deny her of that euphoria. 

maybe it wasn’t ideal, but this was how lando wanted to get his frustration out.

“you should look at yourself, princess,” he cooed mockingly, his wet fingers being welcomed by her mouth as she suckled and swirled her tongue around them. “you taste yourself? so good, don’t you think?”

“so desperate for me,” he crooned, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucked on his fingers harder. his other hand tapped on her face slightly as he tutted, “ah, ah, none of that.” 

lando pulled his fingers out of her mouth, to which she tried following it before his hand wrapped around her neck and squeezed it lightly. 

“it’s funny how eager you are for everything, baby,” he chuckled darkly. “you won’t even let me win and now you want my cock inside of you? so greedy. such a needy, greedy slut.” 

she whimpered at his words as lando continued, “you got to choose which one to work hard for and which one you should continue to beg for, princess. not everything can be handed to you that easily.” 

when she continued to whimper and plead quietly, lando smirked and taunted, “oh? i can’t hear you, babe. you’re gonna have to tell me what you want.” 

he was teasing her and she knew that, but she couldn’t find herself to argue as she knew that she was already playing with fire earlier at the club. that, and because she was already falling into a euphoric state where she thought of nothing but getting too fucked out by him. 

“speak up,” lando demanded firmly, squeezing her throat for a moment as she moaned at the feeling. “you’re always mouthy with me in front of everyone, why are you quiet now?” 

“lan- lando please,” she whined, her cunt now grinding against his thigh as she cried out in frustration, “just wanna cum, please! fuck~”

“oh you want to cum?” lando looked at her with a devious smile, “is that what you deserve?”

“‘m a- i won-“ she hiccuped, “i won this race- lando pleaseeee~” 

“i know you did, princess,” he cooed, pressing his lips against hers before his tongue slid in to play with hers. 

he hummed in satisfaction, tasting the virgin strawberry daiquiri from her mouth before he pulled away. 

he pouted mockingly, “and you got a trophy from it— what else could you want from anyone?” 

“i want your cock so bad, just fill me up- fuck, lando- fuck me,” she begged, her eyes glistening in desperation and lust as she continued, “wan’ you to fuck me hard and fill me— i wan’ to be full please, please lando,”

“such a greedy girl,” he clicked his tongue again before wiping her tears away, his tongue trailing from her neck down to her chest as he sucked on her skin and left a purple mark on her tits. 

“but i guess i can’t deny you, huh? because you always get what you want-“ she gasped aloud as lando slid his cock into her without a warning, filling her cunt fully as lando continued to speak, “especially when you deserved it. even if you’re such a fucking brat.”

she tried to get a hold of him but with the way her legs were hooked over his shoulder and his hammering of the tip of his girthy cock against her cervix, all she could grab and hold onto were the white sheets under her. 

she let out a strangled cry as lando continued to fuck her — as if they haven’t hooked up days before and as if he was angry. he sure was angry at her — because he never fucked her like she’s the last person he wanted to see before. 

now she knew what that felt like, and all she could feel was her arousal escaping her cunt and trickling down to her puckered hole while he growled quietly. lando’s forehead rested against hers as his thumb made its way to make her sensitivity go overload and rubbed her clit.

she cried out, “god! fuck!” 

“not even god could hear you, princess,” lando chuckled as he moaned at the sensation of her walls clenching around him. “fuuuuuck~ so tight, pretty girl- yes, fuck! keep tightening ‘round me like that- fucking shit!” 

her legs shook as she felt an incoming orgasm, her body now convulsing under lando as she mewled, “fuck, lando- lando, i- i’m fucking cummin’! fuck, lando! shit!” 

she let out a strangled moan once more before completely stilling around him, reaching her climax in the process as her vision turned white. “shit~” she gasped, her pussy throbbing around his cock as she felt another orgasm incoming— lando never stopped fucking into her when she came and now the overstimulation was leaving her to short circuit as she cried, “lan- lando, ‘s too much! fuck! ‘m cumming, lando shit~”

“yeah? you cumming again? ‘s too much?” lando hoarsely mocked her, his cock ramming into her as sounds of hips snapping against the other filled the room. “but you deserve more of this, princess. you can’t just give up after the first one!” 

“fuck! lando!” she mewled pathetically. another orgasm approached as her body limped for a moment and shook under him. “o-oh~ i~”

lando slowed down his pace, pausing briefly to allow her to ease off the overstimulation as he watched her mouth let out the prettiest gasp he’d ever seen. he had forgotten about the loss of p1 today for a moment. 

all thanks to her.

“so pretty,” he murmured, watching her body calm before she let out a squeak when he began to rock his hips and thrust in and out of her again. “wanna see more of that. be a good girl for me hm?” 

“be good for me and i’ll show you how much you deserve that win and these orgasms, baby. you’re such a good slut f’me.” 

[wildwestdean]

repose

based on a request made by @chevroletdean! 🤍

a/n: this is a repost, because i tried to edit the main post when half asleep but my dumb ass deleted it instead 😭

summary: you catch a cold while out on a hunt with dean. you refuse to take it easy once back at the bunker, so he takes matters into his own hands to try and help you recover - even if it means bribing you into finally getting some rest

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 2.6k+

warnings: some mentions of violence/mutilation in the beginning, established relationship, stubborn reader, reader puts her own health on the back burner, reader doesn't like to feel useless, reader won't take her meds, fluff, a touch of angst, minor swearing, protective dean, worried dean, dean goes full caretaker mode, dean just really loves reader, briefest mention of clothes being taken off, reader gets carried around, more fluff

Dean knew it was a bad idea. 

He knew he should’ve tried harder to stop you, but really, what was he supposed to do? The suspect was about to get away, and you were too stubborn in your ways once you set your mind to something. All he could do was watch as you ran out the door, quickly disappearing within the sheets of freezing rain that were falling while he cursed to himself. 

His first thought wasn’t a declaration of fear that the suspect might get a drop on you. No, despite your appearance, your skills were rivalled only by those of Sam and Dean themselves; they taught you everything you knew, after all. Instead, shockingly, the first thought to cross his mind was: she’s going to catch a cold. 

Hurrying after you, you two easily managed to apprehend the suspect to haul him back to the warehouse for questions, all while Dean grumbled about how you should’ve stayed put and let him deal with it; a rant that only earned him a roll of your eyes in return. You didn’t venture out very far, and while it did feel like you were soaked straight through to the bone, the warehouse was growing closer and would soon offer respite from the downpour - his worrying, like usual, would end up being over nothing. 

Yet the chill you were met with once back in the warehouse almost had you regretting your choice, and had it not been for the sickening grin you were given by the douchebag that Dean was currently tying to a rickety chair, you probably would have. You were convinced it was even colder in here than outside; but you refused to let Dean in on that fact.

He didn’t pick up on it right away, focusing solely on extracting the answers that were buried behind the soulless eyes he glared into. He always enjoyed taking his time when it came to things like this, letting the fear and dread settle in their hearts as he threatened to carve into skin or chop off extremities. It was fun, really, and he was enjoying it right up until you decided to pitch in, voicing your own threat of cutting off a very precious body part piece by little piece.

As soon as the words left your mouth, Dean took on a new sense of urgency to get the information you two needed. You could see it in every choice he made: how his pacing quickened, how his voice got darker and tighter while his patience drained away, how he stopped giving warning before his knife dove into flesh. 

You knew he was suddenly in a hurry to wrap this all up, but what you didn’t know was why. You didn’t know that when you spoke, Dean heard the waver in your voice, the quiet chatter of your teeth as you shivered from the cold. You didn’t think it was noticeable, but when it came to you, there was nothing Dean wouldn’t notice. 

With the increase of effort and decrease of delicacy, it wasn’t much longer until Dean finally got what he needed, and he plunged his knife through skin and muscle one final time before eagerly leading you from the warehouse.

“Wait here,” he requested, gently tugging you back just before you could step outside. 

“What, why?” you asked, silently amazed at how warm his palm felt on your arm despite being just as drenched as you were. “We need to finish up.”

“Just wait here,” he repeated, running out into the darkness before you could even reply. 

Left confused in his wake, all you could do was stand there and wait for him to return, trying to ignore the way your whole body wanted to tremble in response to the frigid air. You really, really longed for a hot shower right now, and the fact you knew you needed to dispose of this body somewhere out in this storm made tears threaten to spill over onto your still dampened face. 

The sight of Baby’s headlights cutting through the curtain of rain was like a breath of fresh air to you, and you yearned to just curl up on her front seat while the heat blasted from the dash. 

“One step at a time,” you told yourself. “Take care of the body, then you can warm up on the drive back.” 

Dean made it clear he had other plans in mind when he pulled up as close to the door as possible, leaving the engine running as he ran back over to you. 

“Heat’s on,” he declared, shaking some excess water from his jacket. “Lock yourself inside, I shouldn’t be too long.” 

“Too long doing what?” you asked, totally lost. 

He looked just as confused as you were, not understanding what you didn’t understand. 

“Getting rid of the body,” he declared after a moment, as though it were completely obvious. 

“You’re not doing that alone,” you argued in bewilderment. 

“Yes I am,” he argued back. 

“Dean-” you wanted to argue some more, but he cut you off by taking your face in his palms. 

“Even the screams couldn’t cover up the sound of your knees knockin’ together,” he teased. “Go wait in the car, baby. If you don’t go willingly, I’ll gladly toss you in.” 

You had the urge to say no, wanting to be useful and help him, but you backed down when you saw the look in his eyes.

“Fine,” you agreed, sighing in defeat. “But if you’re not back soon, I will be coming to find you,” you warned. 

Dean grinned in triumph as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Understood,” he confirmed, guiding you to the car before heading off to carry out his mission. 

It wasn’t until a few days later, when you finally made it back to the bunker, that you realized maybe Dean’s worrying hadn’t been over nothing after all. Despite having the heat cranked all the way up in every motel room, those worn down radiators could really only do so much. The piercing winds would seep through the meekly insulated windows, finding you even under the feigned safety of blankets and tight embrace of Dean; not to mention there being no way to avoid the icy blows whenever you made stops along the road. The sheer lack of sleep you got due to rushing back home seemed to be the final nail in the coffin, and your body was too exhausted to fight off the inevitable. 

It started as a tickle in your throat, which resulted in you continuously chugging back tea and honey; honey that Cas was extremely thrilled to provide you with. Dean was quick to notice you started doing this, and took it upon himself to bring you a mug whenever you were tied up with Sam and looking into some lore, or tirelessly helping Jack understand his latest discovery of the day. 

When the tickle in your throat developed into you having a full blown cough, he bought you your favourite cough drops, keeping an eye on them to make sure you didn’t run out. Though when they seemed to not be enough, he made sure to get you some cough syrup, too. 

He did his best to make sure you didn’t do too much, but asking you to take things easy was like asking a baby not to cry. It just wasn’t going to happen. You had the constant need to be productive, to be helpful. Feeling a little under the weather wasn’t going to change that. Him getting you to see a doctor was nothing short of a miracle, and the fact you were just about as stubborn as him was nearly ironic; he would laugh about it if he wasn’t so worried about you. 

His worry only magnified tenfold when he went to check on you one night, only to find your room empty. He tried convincing you to let him stay with you like usual, but you didn’t want him to get sick, too. He was really regretting not pushing back on that more, now that he found you in the library, lost in a pile of books; he had to take a breath to compose himself before speaking. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, approaching the table. 

“Research,” you croaked, eliciting another coughing fit. 

“Research?” he baulked. “For what? And why now?” 

You coughed once more, chugging down the rest of your tea before replying. “T’help Sammy. Couldn’sleep anyway,” you sniffled, words jumbled together from congestion.  

Dean sighed heavily, taking a seat beside you. “You didn’t even try to sleep, did you?” 

The lack of response from you told him everything he needed to know. 

“Alright, come on,” he announced, reaching for the book you were reading. 

Your reaction time was definitely slower than usual, but you still managed to pull the book out of his reach just in time. “No.” 

Knowing it would be a losing battle, and that it would probably cause more harm than good to just toss you over his shoulder and carry you to your room, he got up with a huff and left. You assumed he was angry, and felt a little guilty for upsetting him when he was just looking out for you, but you knew you were fine enough to carry on with this for a while longer.  

The last thing you currently expected was for him to return with a bowl of your favourite soup, leftover from when he made some for you earlier, and another large mug of tea, placing them on the free space in front of you before sitting back down. 

“If you wanna be helpful, then you’re gonna sit there and eat while I look for whatever the hell it is we’re looking for,” he ordered, easily snatching the book from you. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, picking up the spoon. “Bossy,” you added, hoping he didn’t see the smile playing on your lips as you feigned annoyance. 

He definitely did, but he kept it to himself as you gave him a cliff notes version of what you were looking into between spoonfuls of soup. 

You aren’t sure when it happened, but at some point between finishing the soup and drinking half the tea, you started to drift off; the warmth of his palm on your thigh and comfort of his soft rambling beside you lulling you to sleep. 

This time, Dean knew he would win the battle against you, and he carefully took you in his arms and carried you to bed, staying with you until morning.

Days had continued to go by, and you only seemed to be getting worse. Dean didn’t know what else to do and it was driving him mad - he couldn’t stand to see you like this anymore. 

He refused to take no as an answer now when it came to him doing things for you, and took over every task you tried to start. He followed you around, practically glued to your side, never letting you lift a finger and being a second pair of eyes when you did any research. 

Research that he tried to stop from coming in by threatening to break Sam’s legs if he didn’t quit bothering you for help, only to find out you were doing it of your accord. 

Even Jack had decided to stop coming to you for things until you were better, since he knew you’d never let him heal you.

Yet Dean knew it wasn’t enough. He knew you needed to just fucking lay down and rest. 

Waking up in the middle of the night to find your side of the bed empty once more, Dean stormed off towards the hub of the bunker as he shouted your name - he didn’t care if he woke everyone up at this point. 

He didn’t stop until he found you in the kitchen, frantically cleaning and completely unaware of his presence. 

“Baby?” he asked cautiously, hesitantly approaching you. 

“'m’not going back t’bed,” you told him, not even looking at him.

“Okay,” he said. “Why not?” 

“Too much t’do,” you replied simply, trying to breeze past him. 

“Hey, whoa,” he called, gently taking hold of your shoulders. “Look at me.” 

“I’m fine,” you said automatically, meeting his gaze after he forced your chin up.

He took note of your distant gaze and pale skin, practically burning under his touch. Suddenly, everything seemed to click into place. “You’re really not, sweetheart,” he determined, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You have a fever. Which means you haven’t even been taking your meds, have you?” 

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at his question, before you averted your gaze in guilt. “No.” 

Dean wanted to be mad at you. Well, truthfully, Dean was mad at you. You’ve been doing seemingly everything you could to prevent yourself from recovering, while Dean was trying as hard as he could to help you. He wanted to yell at you, but more importantly, he just wanted to understand. 

“Why?” he asked gently, softly running his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. 

“They make me groggy,” you told him.

“You mean they make you sleep,” he corrected, knowing what it was you wouldn’t say. “I don’t understand why you won’t let yourself rest.” 

You shrugged helplessly, feeling smaller than ever under his searching gaze. “I don’ like feelin’ useless.” 

“You’re not useless, baby. You’re sick,” Dean defended. 

“Still,” you said, not having a better argument. “I need t’help.”

“How about we make a deal?” he suggested, fully understanding how it feels to not want to lay around and not help with anything, all while everyone else seemed to scramble around.

“Like?” you wondered, lightly shoving him away so you wouldn’t sneeze on him. 

“Like,” he said, feeling more and more like this was the best idea. “You leave this mess as is, go take your medicine, and lay down with me.” 

“That’s not a deal,” you argued thickly. 

“I didn’t finish!” he said with a laugh. “You do that for me, and that disgustingly cheesy movie you love so much? Not only will I watch it with you from start to finish, but I won’t even make a single joke about it.” 

“But what about-” 

“Sam and I can handle the mess later,” he said with a sigh, already knowing what you would ask. 

“‘kay,” you sniffled. “Then deal.” 

“Good,” he grinned, not giving you a chance to change your mind and scooping you off your feet once more.

He made a stop at the bathroom first, so that he could help you freshen up and do your usual nightly routine. Lord knows he watched you do it enough times to know it step by step, and he was never more grateful for that than right now.

Once that was all taken care of, he took you to your room to get you fully settled for the night. He gently peeled off your lounge clothes to slip one of his clean sweatshirts over your head before tucking you into bed. He grabbed you a glass of water so you could take your medicine. He hunted down extra blankets to keep by the bed in case you got cold. He settled in beside you, setting up the movie as you nestled against his chest. 

It was barely even twenty minutes in by the time you were sleeping soundly in his arms. Dean smiled to himself, carefully landing a kiss on the top of your head as he carried on with the movie. 

He started to doze off about halfway through, and he knew in his heart that if this was the deal he’d have to make every night while you recovered, he’d gladly do so. There was definitely no shortage of these cheesy movies you loved, and there was nothing in the universe that mattered to him more than you and your wellbeing. 

Besides, even though he’d never admit, these romcoms you liked really weren’t half bad. 

taglist: @roseblue373, @redmaro86, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester

if you'd like to be added or removed from this list, please let me know!

(sorry for the double tag on this y'all, i'm stupid af lol)

[ellastone-olsen]

Smoking kink with mommy Wanda.

Warnings: NSFW 18+, mommy kink, smoking obviously, shy reader, alcohol, age gap

AN: lmao guys I’m back after month of silence, I'm rested and ready to worship Lizzie and other women again.

I was just thinking about my smoking kink and a picture of you and mommy Wanda, standing on the porch of her house appeared in my head. Perhaps you just went to visit your friends and met her, perhaps it was a small neighborly gathering, but it doesn’t matter.

The main thing is that you are standing together on the porch, and there is the second glass of wine already in your hands, which she kindly offered you. She tries to light a cigarette, it seems that it was some kind of thin and menthol (such a cliché) and because of the strong wind, the weak flame of the lighter goes out every time and you move closer to her to cover it from the wind. And when the cigarette begins to smolder, you look in a trance at her lips wrapped around the filter and smell the smell of tobacco, which is instinctively associated with Wanda.

You cover your face in shame, pretending to enjoy the wine, when in fact watching her smoke was the hottest (literally lmao) sight. She says something about the terrible weather and the constant rain, but you only half listen to her as your eyes follow her hands. Behind her thin long fingers with a cigarette and you think what these fingers could do with you... And then you look up and watch how smoke comes out of her lips and Wanda’s tongue passes along her lower lip.

It seems that this smoke went straight to your head, otherwise why else can’t you think in another direction other than about obscenity with this woman.

Oh, of course, she noticed that you were mentally somewhere not here and finished her monologue about the weather and asked. "Do you want?" You didn’t immediately understand what she meant, only when you saw her handing you a cigarette. Wanda knew that you didn’t smoke, but her first guess about your reaction to her bad habit was that you were simply afraid to ask her to let you try. You looked at the smoke that rose between you both and did’t move. “I...no thanks, I don’t smoke.”

Silence followed you again and the puzzle in the older woman’s head began to take shape. “Are you sure you don’t want to?” She asked in the hope that you would think twice about it. All that came out of your mouth was a string of unintelligible stutters and then she placed her free hand on yours that was holding the glass and lowered them so she could see your red face. Wanda advanced on you, gradually pressing you into the railing until she was so close that her chest was pressed against yours. "I think you will like it." She whispered and took another drag, looking into your eyes. And then she leaned towards your lips, barely touching to exhale the bitter smoke.

Now the smoke that was in her lungs ended up in yours and the nicotine instantly entered your bloodstream, causing you even more dizziness and an attack of euphoria. Wanda's hand with the cigarette rose to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and the woman asked another question in a whisper. “Well, dear? How do you like it?” An uncontrollable moan escaped from your mouth, giving Wanda the green light and she broke her lips on yours, immediately using her tongue inside you. The glass of wine was put aside somewhere and your hands grabbed the railing because you felt like you might fall.

Wanda took your face in her hands and kissed you so greedily, as if she were a wild animal, whispering “Good girl” between kisses and “Let Mommy do the work” which made your core throb.

She having to pull away because someone came outside looking for the two of you and she ended up smoking the rest of her cigarette like she did in the beginning; leaving you at the railing with burning cheeks and heat between your thighs.

The last thing Wanda said to you was “Go upstairs when they’re all gone, second door on the right.” She turned around and winked at you, walking into the warmth and noise of the house.

[blogfromneptune]

MELODIC HEALING

PAIRING clarisse la rue x apollodaughter!reader

IN WHICH clarisse and her siblings got a bit carried away during their sparing matches. lucky for clarisse, her girlfriend has gentle hands and a way with magic.

w/c : 1275

a/n : dior. that’s it… enjoy :)

sweat dripped from her brow as clarisse walked through camp. her siblings had ropped her into yet another sparing tournament which she won with ease. she was rather annoyed, to be frank. she loved her siblings, yes. she also loved battles. but she had plans to wake up early to properly freshen up and take her girlfriend for a walk after breakfast.

instead, she was awoken by the sound of an argument between her siblings; two of the newer members of the cabin arguing about gods knows what. that put her on a bad foot to begin with. she spent the time she could have had getting ready dealing with them and barking at them to clean up their mess. breakfast was anything but what she wanted. she scraped her offerings into the fire silently praying to her father to show up and tell her siblings off, before she walked back to her table where her brothers were beginning to arm wrestle.

one of their arms landed in her food and instead of yelling and knocking them right then and there, she slid her now squashed food away from her, stood up, and walked away.

when one of her sisters asked if she wanted to spar, she was already fuming with her cabin, so she agreed. it didn’t take long for all her siblings to be groaning on the floor, battered and bruised. clarisse stood tall above them, her face neutral and sweaty. she tossed her spear at her newest little brother, who caught it with ease. “make sure they see one of the apollo kids, or something.” and with that, she was off to find her apollo kid.

she heard her before she saw her. the sweet humming of her girlfriend brought a small smile onto the face of the daughter of ares. the apollo cabin came into view, and there she was, sitting with her older brother, will, and one of her new younger sisters. she was doing her hair, a variation of braids and twists that she somehow made look gorgeous.

her girlfriend was humming a tune as will laid beside her, an old, beaten cowboy hat covering his face and his green flannel covering his body as a blanket.

“…she brought this on herself with her desires. Your family will be stained, gotta walk away… now.” clarisse stood off to the side for a bit, listening to whatever melody her girlfriend was singing now, until she caught her eye.

a smile grew on the daughter of apollos face as she was sticking flowers in her sister's hair, but her smile faltered.

clarisse was quick to raise her hands, grazing her face with her fingertips. she winced as they made contact with the large gash she had forgotten about. she knew she was going to get an earful…

will groaned and raised his hat a bit, peeking out when his sister stopped her tune. he made eye contact with clarisse and the ever-noticeable mark on her face. he hissed, sitting up and gripping his flannel.

“come on, skipper. let’s leave sis with her uh…” will trailed off, deciding to leave it at that. he took his new little sisters' upper arms and pulled her up, managing to get her on his back. they quickly retreated into their cabin.

clarisse was careful with her steps, biting the inside of her cheeks.

this big, scary woman, looked up to by many campers and also feared by many campers, felt scared of her sweet little sunshine girlfriend…

who could probably kill her with a single note if she wanted to.

she mounted the steps, her girlfriend looking away from her as she tidied up the elastics and ribbons. her cowboy hat rested on the armrest of the rocking chair she sat in. it was a gift from will for her 18th. it matched her perfectly; a nice beige colour with a baby pink ribbon wrapped around it and tiny string embroidery of daisies and sunflowers.

she grabbed it gingerly and placed it over her wind-messed hair. she wordlessly stood up and looked at clarisse.

clarisse clenched her teeth into an awkward smile, “hey baby -”

“clarisse la rue.”

shit.

“hun, i’m sorry -”

“let me have a look at you,” the daughter of apollo whispered, coming up on her tiptoes and taking her girlfriend's face in between her hands. she turned it side to side, up and down, examining every inch.

clarisse allowed it, bending down and looking up to the sky. she knew how much the ray of sunshine hated when she fought others. whether it be verbal or physical, it didn’t matter. clarisse tried to stop the habit once they became official, but sometimes it was hard to avoid.

and since she hadn’t gone on any quest, she didn’t have a good reason this time.

the daughter of apollo took one of her girlfriend's hands, bringing her over and sitting her in the rocking chair she had been in only minutes ago. clarisse groaned as she sat, the aching of her muscles from this morning finally catching up to her.

she watched her girlfriend go inside her cabin and then come out with a little box she had grown to recognize as the official first aid kit of the apollo cabin. she knelt in front of her and gestured for her to lean forward, which clarisse did.

with no warning, she placed a cotton pad with alcohol on it to her cheek. clarisse flinched and hissed, the liquid feeling as though it was sizzling on her flesh.

“don’t be a baby,” her girlfriend whispered, hiding the little smile on her face as she looked down to grab another cotton pad.

“‘m not being a baby.” clarisse sounded like she was pouting. she would never act this way around anyone. but the girl in front of her brought out a completely different side of her.

she adored it.

clarisse closed her eyes, letting her girlfriend hum a small tune and the gash beginning to glow. it was like the scene from rapunzel- the movie clarisse was forced to see at gunpoint (gunpoint = her girlfriend's smile and puppy dog eyes).

she felt the wound begin to close in on itself. it was still a weird feeling, despite having experienced it many times before.

“there.” clarisse opened her eyes. the first aid kit was packed up and placed next to the entrance to the cabin. her cheek didn’t hurt anymore and all that remained was a faint scar that would heal by morning.

“thank you,” clarisse grinned but it didn’t help her situation. her girlfriend raised a brow, expecting her to explain.

she sighed and reached for her arm, her own calloused and bruised hand feeling as though it was tainting the delicacy of the sun gods daughter. “just a little tournament. had to let out some anger.” clarisse’ voice was low.

the daughter of apollo took a small step, her western-style cowboy boots clacking against the ground. both she and will came from southern families, but she never showed it until she got comfortable in camp. now she didn’t hide the slight ting of an accent she had or her love for the southern style.

“i don’t like it when you fight,” she said lowly, standing in front of clarisse and both her hands wrapped in hers. clarisse brought them up and grazed her lips on her knuckles, the faint smell of flower hand sanitizer filling her nose.

“i know… i’m sorry, sunshine.” when clarisse glanced up, her girlfriend was smiling down at her. just like the sun looked down on the earth.

[klausysworld]

Okay so I have this idea where reader has been taking care of hope for 7 years (Hayley is like dead Marcel killed her or smt) and like in the show Marcel has klaus locked away but when the family rescues him they all come to realise that y/n has built like a whole army of werewolves/vampires just to protect hope. Klaus see’s how much she loves hope and he has loved y/n for like 12 years and hope notices this and then hope tells him that y/n has cried herself to sleep ever night because of loosing him and then obviously the rest is up to you.

This idea has been in my head for a while so I do hope you write it and if not thank you for whatever you write next 🥰🥰🥰🥰

And also sorry my description was so bad but I forgot to say smut would be greatly appreciated ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Family

Y/n had grown up alongside Hayley in the foster care system. They were adopted together and thrown out together. They were loyal to one another no matter the consequences and would follow the other to the ends of the earth.

Y/n hadn't batted an eye at the idea of living with the most dangerous family in the world, if Hayley was going then so would she. She showed her devotion to the unborn Mikaelson and quickly gained the attention and respect of the originals.

Elijah appreciated her love and protective characteristics over her family, Hayley and the baby. Rebekah liked that it didn't matter who said what about her, whether they claimed she was a useless human or nothing more than something to eat, she wouldn't back down form a fight. Klaus had originally thought her to be a little foolish with her confidence and need to help but he found that she knew what she was doing, she was persuasive and intelligent.

When the witches first killed Hayley and took the new born baby, Y/n had pushed aside the grief and the pain from Hayleys death. Niklaus and Elijah could see the horror in her eyes but she told them to get up and find the baby, and they did. Thankfully Hayley returned, as a hybrid, and Hope survived.

Y/n was happy for them to compel her to believe Hope was dead but Klaus interjected and said that he didn't believe it to be necessary. That was when Elijah knew that his brother had placed his trust in Y/n.

The Mikaelson brothers watched as Y/n stayed beside Hayley no matter how much she yelled, screamed, cried, killed. Despite Hope not dying, Hayley still felt the pain of loss. It was easy for her to take it out on Y/n, to bring up her past family and to push at all her buttons but Y/n never gave in. She ignored it even when Klaus and Elijah would get involved, sometimes Hayley would have said something particularly hurtful and one of the brothers would intervene, yelling at Hayley to go calm down and offering some sort of comfort to Y/n but she wouldn't accept it.

There was one occasion when Hayley had bitten Y/n, her humanity was almost gone and she had attacked her bestest friend. Klaus had gone ballistic. Elijah had healed Y/n though she insisted it wasn't that bad while Klaus finally managed to scream some sense into Hayley.

Apologies were made and accepted before finally they were all able to go see Hope.

Y/n hadn't ever had a family, even when she was adopted with Hayley they only took Y/n because Hayley wouldn't go without her. So when Rebekah pulled the camera out for a family photo, Y/n made her way inside but Klaus had noticed and went to get her.

A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder to gain her attention as he guided her back to the others and promised her that she was their family now. Rebekah had been ecstatic and pulled Y/n to her side as Klaus held up the camera and they all smiled.

From then onwards Y/n would bond with Hope more and more. Hayley had sat with her and they had agreed that should anything ever happen to Hayley, that Y/n would never leave Hope alone. There was absolutely no convincing needed with this arrangement.

Over the next year witches, wolves and vampires came and went. Y/n stayed with the Mikaelsons and befriended the wolves, Jackson especially as he was to marry her adopted sister. She stood beside Klaus at the wedding, holding Hope and watching as the baby's eyes glowed gold in unison. Klaus was just looking at Y/n, listening as Hayley and Jackson recited their vows and imagined those words of love coming from his own lips.

After, Y/n went down to celebrate and Klaus managed to get a dance with her after Elijah finally pushed him to. Something about the other just felt right. It brought a warmth that only held safety and admiration. Like home.

Y/n began to see Klaus as home. When Hayley spent so many nights in the bayou, it was Klaus that she spent her time with and Klaus who always came to seek her out. Often he would use Hope as an excuse to be around her, Hope loved Y/n very much and was always eager to see her. Klaus was even more eager to take her.

But then Lucien arrived, along with Tristan and Aurora. They ruined everything.

Y/n became a vampire, Finn was killed once again and the Mikaleons were faced with peril.

Everything happened within the blink of an eye. Rebekah was hexed and the brothers bitten and Freya poisoned. Klaus was locked away for his violent acts and the others were linked to his life and hidden away in their coffins. And then Hayley, she had gone to Marcel angry and threatening and never returned.

That left Y/n with Hope and a truck full of almost-dead Mikaelsons. She was lost for the first year with Hope. She had lost everything. Everyone.

But when Hope would wrap her little arms around her and whimper for Y/n to not be sad, she knew that she needed to pull through.

It took a lot of effort. Y/n used Marcels tactics and started turning her own vampires, earning their trust and their devotion. She offered them a new life, she sold vampirism well and convinced dozens that this was the way for them. She began to train them, she began to trust them.

There was an inner circle that knew her well and were allowed to see Hope and go inside the house to protect her and the others had a fair amount of freedom however if they wanted daylight rings then they would have to help find the ingredients to heal the Mikaelsons.

It took far longer than she would have liked, 5 years but she did it. And one by one, Freya, Kol, Elijah and Rebekah were awake and healed. It didn't take long for them to come to understand the lengths to which Y/n had gone through.

They learnt of Hayleys death and they watched as vampires came to Y/n with updates on Klaus's position. A couple of her vampires had gone undercover into Marcels territory to get an idea of Klaus's situation. It was because of this that the other Mikaelsons were able to get in easier while Y/n went to her home to see Hope now that she was back form school.

Hope saw Y/n as her mother. Of course she knew everything about Hayley, Y/n old her countless stories and made sure that Hope knew that Hayley was her mother but Hope didn't truly remember Hayley the way Y/n had thought she would. To Hope, Y/n had always looked after her and loved her so often she would call Y/n her mommy or her ma without meaning to and Y/n could never respond, unsure as to whether she was doing something wrong by being Hopes mother. But she also couldn't deny Hope and so wouldn't upset her little girl by telling her that she wasn't allowed to call her that.

So she sat down with Hope when they were having their dinner and told her that their family was coming back in the early hours of the morning. Y/n had made sure to tell Hope stories of each of the Mikaelsons and showed various pictures, Klaus especially was mentioned. "That's your Dad remember?" Y/n would whisper when they snuggled up on Hopes bed and flicked through the photos.

Sometimes Y/n would sleep beside Hope or the other way around. Hope knew that Y/n didn't sleep much, she worried so much and became sad when Hope wasn't with her. Many times Hope had asked if Y/n loved her Dad and every time Y/n would nod "He means very much to me" she would tell her and Hope would smile and hold Y/n's hand.

"He'll come back soon Mommy, don't worry" she would whisper and Y/n would sniff and nod, pulled Hope close and closing her eyes.

When Hope was told that he father was finally coming home, she was excited for both herself and for Y/n. It took hours for her to get to sleep and Y/n had to take her back to bed nearly 10 times before she stayed in bed.

It was deep into the night when the door knocked, Y/n had fallen asleep against with her head against the kitchen table but thankfully had given Freya a key before they left for Klaus. They all made their way inside and softened at the sigh of Y/n passed out with her phone infront of her. Klaus was battered and weak but made his way over to her and knelt down to the floor so that he could pull her down to his embrace. She woke as she was taken from her seat and found herself in his hold. Tears streamed within seconds and she wrapped herself within him until little footsteps were heard and everyone's attention was on the doorway.

Y/n got up quickly, pulling away from Klaus who stared at the doorway with a level of fear. He didn't want his daughter to see him for the first time while he was dirty, bloody and broken.

"Mommy?" The sleepy voiced called, Hope had just come into sight while rubbing her eyes when Y/n quickly picked her up. They all listened as she gently hushed Hope and took her back to bed.

"What's wrong baby?" She asked softly, while tucking Hope into bed. She kissed her head and slipped Hope's wolf teddy under her arm.

"Are they here yet?" Hope whispered and Y/n hesitated. She knew Hope wouldn't sleep if she knew they were there and she knew that the Mikaelsons needed a moment to recover.

"Soon" She told Hope. "They'll be here when you wake in the morning I promise." She murmured and she stroked her face and Hope whispered goodnight.

Y/n came back down and spoke quietly.

"There's enough beds upstairs each of you, you might have to share a room for the night but it's better than a coffin. There's two showers, wait fifteen minutes so Hope goes to sleep before turning them on otherwise the noise will wake her up. We'll sort everything in the morning." She muttered, somehow a hardened exterior was around her now and they all picked up on it. She spoke to them now in an almost professional manner, like she didn't know them. As they all made their way up the stairs and watched as she checked on Hope, closed her door and made her way to her own room, they wondered how hard the past five years had been for her.

The next morning they woke to a stack of blood beside each of them bar Freya who had a cup of coffee waiting. They drank before getting dressed and heading downstairs.

Y/n and Hope were both already there, sprawled out on the sofas and eating from a bowl of berries while watching the TV. Kol was the first to clear his throat making Hope's head shoot up. Her confidence diminished quickly and she was hiding behind Y/n as she got up.

Y/n pointed to the fridge and cupboards, "If you're hungry you can find everything there, I've set up phones for you all so they're on the table. Theres a couple guys outside but they're just here to make sure nobody else is so you can check the garden if you need. Cars are coming in the afternoon to relocate now that you're awake and we have an interview with a school for Hope tomorrow morning so we need to get a full nights sleep and leave by 4pm latest this afternoon." She told them while lifting Hope from the sofa and placing her by the backdoor. "Paints are outside" she whispered to Hope who nodded and ran out to her art table in the garden.

The Mikaelsons each took their new phone and grabbed something to eat before sitting down while Klaus went to the window to watch his daughter from afar. Y/n went back to the kitchen and started washing plates when Elijah came beside her and placed a hand on her back.

"You know that you are our family Y/n" he whispered to her, concerned that she may think otherwise, "even with Hayley gone" he added faintly and she nodded. "I understand you've taken the role as Hopes mother-"

"I haven't. Hayley's her mom, Hope knows that she just slips up" She snapped back and Elijah frowned at the aggression.

"I didn't mean it as a negative thing." He replied softly, "Hayley would love that you are so close to Hope, she had told me all those years ago that you were as much Hopes mother as she was. You have always been her mother, none of us would take that from you."

Y/n sniffled at the thought of Hayley's permission almost and Elijah brought her into his embrace. He had been taking care of his family for centuries, he had the best understanding of what she was going through and he never wanted her to think that they would take Hope away from her just because Hayley was gone.

Meanwhile, Klaus had plucked the courage to go outside and sit with his daughter. He painted alongside her in a comfortable silence while nature danced around them until Y/n came outside and called for lunch. The scene made Klaus think of a movie or a sweet story and Hope smiled and jumped from her seat and tugged Klaus inside for food. He chuckled and followed, obediently sitting beside his little girl while Y/n went on the other side of her. Elijah and Y/n had prepared a simple but homey pasta dish to fill everyone before they needed to leave.

It was during lunch that Hope took notice of how her father glanced and gazed at her mother figure. Part of her was happy for them that they had found their way back and she could have that picture perfect family she had dreamed of for years but the other part of her pushed that idea away. She feared that perfect reality and quickly became upset with the thought of it all.

Y/n could see Hope stressing and took her outside to talk to her. Rebekah tried to comfort Klaus as he sat in a pained silence with the thought that his daughter didn't like him enough.

They didn't speak of it as they divided up into cars and drove to another state, to a suburban area where they had their own homes and new starts. Rebekah was excited, Freya was apprehensive, Kol decided to go his own way but to keep in touch, Elijah was willing to go wherever was seen as safest and Klaus would follow Hope and Y/n wherever they may go.

When Y/n handed him the keys to his own house he frowned, he didn't want to be by himself. He never had. Y/n had asked Hope if she would want to stay primarily at her dads but she wasn't so sure as she didn't really know him anymore.

The separate house arrangement lasted no longer than a week before Klaus was insisting they get a big house they could all stay in. Freya and Rebekah got a smaller house together, Elijah got himself an apartment close by but a little further out and Klaus moved in with Y/n and Hope after getting upset and Y/n understanding his needs.

He had his own room but he never wanted to be in it. He wanted to be in Y/n's, he wanted her and she wouldn't let him. Hope slowly got used to the idea but Y/n pulled away from it despite the ache in her heart that called for him.

Klaus soon believed that she truly didn't feel anything more than that friendship/family bond that she had with his siblings but Hope made sure he knew the truth one night when they were watching a movie and Y/n was out sorting out some vampires that apparently worked for her with both confused and impressed the Mikaelsons.

"I know you love my mom" She told him as they both kept their eyes on the TV, not daring to look at the other as this particular topic arose. Klaus cleared his throat and smacked his lips together but she didn't give him a chance to respond. "She told me she loves you too. Lots of times actually" she quipped and Klaus stared at the screen intensley. "But she won't tell you because she doesn't want to make it weird or make a mistake" she told him.

"She thinks it would be a mistake?" He asked, mentally cursing himself for the childish behaviour he was giving into.

"No...I don't know...She just loves you a lot and she'd be sad again if it didn’t work and I don’t want her to be sad again…” she trailed and Klaus glanced to her.

“Again?” He whispered, wondering if she had been with another man in the years they were apart and it hadn’t worked.

“She used to cry a lot” Hope mumbled, feeling guilty for telling Klaus about it. “Sometimes she would cry in her sleep too” she added and Klaus frowned, wrapping an arm around Hope and pulling her into a hug as she got upset. “She missed you” she whimpered and Klaus nodded, kissing Hopes head and wiping the tears from under her eyes. “She needs you” she told him on a small, strained voice.

Klaus rubbed her back and stroked her hair while Hope cried and let out all her worries for her mother and all the times she had seen her distraught. Klaus told her how he should have been there for them and promised that he would never leave them alone, never let them suffer again.

They ended the night on a lighter note, managed to pull a few laughs and smiled form each to her before Klaus tucked Hope into bed and found her wolf teddy for her. He then sat and told her of how one day she would get to be a wolf if she wanted and would be able to run freely, he told her how he felt when he was in his wolf form and how much he knew she would love it.

Once she fell asleep he went to his room and waited for the sound of the front door to clothes and footsteps up the floor before he came out. He stepped out from his doorway in only a pair of sleep pants, his eyes landed on Y/n and his brows rose. Her face was splattered with dried blood and her hands covered in it. She looked back at him but didn’t utter a word, just went straight for the bathroom.

Klaus followed her quickly and closed the door behind them so that Hope wouldn’t see Y/n looking so dishevelled.

“What happened?” He whispered as she tried to shimmy out of her clothes without touching anything else. He leaned over and clicked the shower on.

“It’s nothing” she mumbled, peeling her shirt from her skin leaving her in just her bra and panties as her jeans lay in a puddle on the floor. Klaus frowned and his hand cupped her face but she pushed it away. “Go away I need to shower” she muttered as she unhooked her bra and he sighed before walking out and staring at the bathroom door as she scrubbed the blood away.

He waited for her to come back out before pestering her again. Demanding to know where she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it to or with. Eventually she snapped and told him it was for Hope. She told him that people had been trying to kill her or take her all of the time, no matter how many spells were on her to protect her. So she had to get rid of the few people who knew their location and also make new vampires near where they were to ensure security.

Klaus didn’t know how to feel.

Before, she was strong headed but she had never been a killer. She did what she had to but she was still emotional and compassionate. He blamed himself, he wanted her to be a Mikaelson and she had become one. She acted like one, she loved like one, she was one.

“I can do that for you, for Hope” he told her gently and she couldn’t help the scoff that left her making him sigh. “Love, we’re here now, it isn’t your job to fight anymore” he argued and she glared at him.

“It was never my job.” She bit, “I did it because I wanted to. I do it because I want to. Hope is safe because of me, you are all safe because of me and I will keep it that way because even after a thousand years you lot still wind up dead time and time again!” She sneered, her vampiric features displaying across her face as her anger rose.

Klaus stared at her as she glared at him, she was mad and he knew that. She had been saving her rage for five years. She was mad that they left her alone, she was mad they let Hayley die not once but twice. She was mad that they hadn’t listened to her all those years ago, she was mad she became a vampire because of them. She was mad that she had never been given an easy option since the day she met them. She was mad and she needed to express it and if there was something Klaus was good at, it was expressing his rage.

So he pushed her, hard. Y/n stumbled back and felt herself tik. She flew back at him roughly, causing him to hit straight back against the wall with a wince before going back to her and shoving her. He only put his hands on her a couple more times before her hands were swinging and her nails clawed at him. He whispered for her to keep going, to get it out as she cried and hit at him. She told him all the things she hated about him and his family. All the things he had put her through and all the struggle she had with Hope. Having to look after a Mikaelson witch with werewolf anger and vampire strength was not something anyone was equipped for but Y/n, a newly turned vampire was certainly not.

Eventually she was too exhausted to keep going. Klaus was on the floor, propped up against the door with his bloodied arm around her shoulders as she curled against him and sobbed. His face and body slowly healed, as he panted for air and rest his head against hers.

After a while she calmed down and realised how much she had hurt him and started crying for the pain she had caused. Klaus told her he had wanted her to so it was okay but she hated herself for it either way. They ended up back in the bathroom, taking separate showers again before heading back out and being in a better mood. They kissed each other on the cheek goodnight and went to bed.

The next morning Y/n was lighter on her feet, she already seemed more relaxed and settled. Less on edge wondering when she would explode with anger. Hope gave Klaus a weird look and asked if they finally admitted they loved each other but he shook his head and she shrugged. Y/n was happy so Hope was happy.

Klaus and Y/n took Hope to her school before going back home and digging up the garden to start planting herbs and flowers. Some had magical properties and some didn’t. Klaus handled the vervain and Y/n handled the wolvesbane before they went inside and started making lunch only for them to get bored and decide to go out instead.

They went down to a small cafe and just ended up having sandwiches and cake anyway but at were happy that they didn’t have to make it themselves.

After they headed back home they cleaned up the house and discussed Hopes upcoming birthday. Y/n told him about her past birthdays and presents and showed him pictures from the last few years.

Weeks went by, Klaus and Y/n became the power parents they had both hoped they would be and Hope finally had the family she wanted.

Hope however started to get annoyed. She just needed them to give in and be together. So she started making hints. But apparently they weren’t strong enough so she went with being direct.

“Would you two just kiss already? Stop staring at each other!” She yelled from the kitchen, knowing they were glancing to one another while the film played in the background. Y/n blushed pink and Klaus cleared his throat, getting up and grabbing Hope. He spun her around and tickled her sides, whispering for her to shut her mouth while she squirmed and giggled.

It happened on many occasions that Hope would just tell them to get on with it. Klaus would watch for Y/n’s reaction waiting for her to give him the okay.

It was late one night when she finally did. It was just them downstairs, Hope was over at a friend’s house for a sleepover so just the two of them were watching usual Saturday night television. They were cuddled up with a blanket around them when Y/n leaned her head back and gave him a look. His brows briefly furrowed as he tried to decipher it before a tense silence overcame them. Both daring the other to do it.

Klaus caved first, leaning down and pressing his mouth to hers. Their lips moved in unison and Y/n’s hands went to his hair, tugging him onto her. The soft, wet sounds of their mouths filled the small amount of air between them as he pushed her down against the sofa and slid his hands under her thighs, hiking her legs up and round his waist.

Y/n stroked her hands round his face, her fingers memorising every detail of his face. Her thumbs brushed over his ears and down his neck while her tongue wrapped around his. Klaus slid his hands up and under her shirt, gliding along her skin to her bra. His fingers teased the lace making her pull her mouth from his and tug her shirt over her head.

Klaus kissed her lips again softly before pressing his own to her chest. Her hand cupped the back of his head, her eyes following his lips as they kissed and sucked down the valley between her breasts slowly. His other hand slid beneath her to unhook her bra and pull it off her arms.

She breathed heavily, looking up at him with lustrous eyes.

“You look so gorgeous” he murmured as he lowered his head to wrap his lips round one of her nipples. Y/n moaned softly as it pebbled against his tongue and her back arched to push her breasts against his face. He groaned softly and squeezed them both in his hands while his mouth teased them both interchangeably.

Y/n moaned his name and lifted his Henley over his head and slid her hands down his chest while his fingers picked at the button on her jeans. She helped drag them off her legs and quickly got her hands onto his. He kicked his own off and pressed himself back against her.

Their mouths were back against each other in a heated frenzy and his erection pressed against his boxers and then against her panties. She moaned against him and thrust her hips up to feel him. Klaus moved his lips down to her jaw and nipped at the skin while his hand made its way down to her stomach.

"Klaus" she whispered breathlessly as she pulled her lips off his and looked down to where his fingers brushed along the soft material of her underwear.

"Please" he uttered. It was an unexpected word for him to say but it made her eyes shimmer as she looked up at him. He leaned down to kiss her once again and she allowed herself to melt into it as he slowly dragged her panties down and off her legs. His hands brushed back up her thighs and she didn't resist when he guided them open and flat against the bed.

Klaus gently stroked his fingers along her pussy lips. Klaus groaned softly as they slid through her wetness and found her clit. Y/n let out a small gasp and pulled her head back, Klaus looked down at her as the back of her head pressed against the couch. Their eyes locked as the pad of his finger rubbed little circles against her clit. He watched in lust and fascination as her breathing escalated and her eyes watered while she tried to keep them open and focused on him.

"I missed you so much" he admitted quietly while pushing a finger into her entrance. Y/n let out a sweet cry that made the desire within him swirl and spike. His finger curled inside her perfectly, his thumb continued to pet her bundle of nerves until her body couldn't help but grind against his hand and his lips pressed a row of kisses along her throat.

"Klaus" she repeated with a moan and he smiled against her skin.

"I thought of you every day" he whispered as another finger began to thrust inside her with each precise flick of his wrist.

"You did?" she whimpered, her heart swelling with love and bashfulness. He nodded with a soft look in his eyes and pumped his fingers deeper into her until the breath was taken from her lungs.

"You were always right there in my mind. You brought me peace" he told her and she moaned weakly. Her hands squeezes at the sheets below her as her eyes shut. Klaus's fingers thrust and curled beautifully to meet the sensitive point that made her toes curl and her pussy clench tightly. "You saved me from myself" he whispered as his lips trailed down the front of her body again, a little quicker this time. His thumb brushed over her clit before his tongue replaced it.

Y/n's body arched in delight and her legs quivered as the soft heat of his mouth caressed her cunt. His tongue swirled around her sensitive bud as his fingers picked up the pace. His eyes closed as the addictive taste of her soaked onto his tongue. Her body arched and tensed with each flick of his tongue and a cry of desperation bounced off the walls as her orgasm pulsed through her. Klaus groaned softly as her pussy quivered and weeped around his fingers. He carefully, gently pulled his fingers out from her and used his mouth to clean her up.

He kissed his way back up her body to her lips and kissed her deeply, swallowing her weak moans of satisfaction and caressing his hands up along her skin. Y/n's hands brushed through his curls gently making them fluff up. Klaus pulled back and looked down at her with a genuine smile and let out a small chuckle when he felt his hair frizz.

She gazed back at him almost shyly. She had wanted him to touch her like that for so long. Too many years of longing. Raising Hope had taken away from any social life she could have had the past five years but even if Hope hadn't been a priority, Y/n only thought of Klaus like that. She could't believe that he had seen her so bare and vulnerable after all those years, touched and tasted her like she dreamed he would.

Klaus could see the thoughts dancing through her mind and slowly stroked her hair as he let her daze float over her. He pulled her to his body, wrapping her in his arm and laying with her for a bit. This was something he didn't want to push or rush. He just wanted to soak this up and be with her forever.

Y/n lay on top his body as they rest against the couch. A blanket draped over them while their eyes watched the screen before them. They were both nearly asleep but neither wanted to move so they stayed there the whole night.

By morning they were back up and getting ready to get Hope from her friends. Hope's eyes narrowed on them as soon as she got in the car, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she saw their entwined hands while they drove home.

When she got home she gave her mother a smile before offering a discreet thumbs up to her dad which made him chuckle and shake his head as she starting making kissey faces and running up the stairs giggling.

[helplesslypurple77]

Day 14 -Shower Sex-Hisoka/Reader

Notes:  k so suspend your disbelief that Hisoka would ever need a roommate, that man is probably rich as hell, but this is my universe and I can do anything I want.

.....

Maybe your decision to get a roommate was a mistake. It had seemed like such a bright idea a few weeks ago, when you had put the last minute listing online. Because you could have a nice, large apartment in a central location and halve the price. And maybe you could make a nice friend out of it. You were even safe, requiring an online form as well as an in person interview. You weren't too worried though, you considered yourself pretty formidable when it came to ability. 

But it was not going as well as you would have liked. You have received plenty of submissions, sure. But each one had something glaringly wrong with it. You shuffle through the forms you had printed out, sighing as each one passes through your vision. These are the better ones, you threw out the worse ones already. Now, only three remain.

The first one is a woman, who after a delightful interview where the two of you got along really well, she had informed you that she had four cats and three dogs, and a cow. And she would expect them to live with her. So she was obviously tossed. The second one had been a rather mousy looking man who had some clear stalker tendencies, and had asked you to compromise on rent. You had told him maybe, and shooed him away. 

The last option was the one you were most hopeful about. It was another man, who was set to arrive any minute now. His answers on the form were promising, of course, but also very general. That was why you had set up the in person interview. To probe people and get their general vibes. 

The doorbell rings, shaking you out of your thoughts. You jump up, straightening your dress and fixing your hair, before moving to the door. This is the last one. You send up a little prayer, begging that this one will be the perfect candidate, and open the door.

The man standing on the other side of the door with his hand on his hip is very hot. It's the first thing you notice, followed very quickly by the odd way he dresses. But have met many a weird dresser in your day so you try not to judge. 

“Are you Mr Morrow?” You question, smiling up at him. He's very tall, looming over you a bit in your own doorway.

“Yes, I was informed you were in desperate need of a roommate,” The man says, offering a hand out in front of him. “You have such a lovely nen, dear.”

You take it, wincing slightly as he shakes it. He's a dramatic one. And probably a pro hunter, given the fact that he noticed your nen. And pointed it out at all. But that doesn't mean anything, not yet at least.  

“I am. Come on in.” You say, yanking your hand out of his tight, cold grip and opening the door wide. The man breezes past you, sauntering into your house with no hint of hesitancy or fear. He shows only blind confidence, accompanied by a smirk tossed over his shoulder. He must be very strong. Or just stupid. You don't know which is better. You sigh, leading him towards the living room where you have your little interview area set up. 

“Alright Mr Morrow, could you tell me why you want a roommate?” You ask, sitting down on the couch of the cozy little living room. He sits down opposite you, in one of the cushy armchairs and crosses one leg over the other. 

“Hisoka is fine,” he says, brushing a hair through his red hair, pushing it back farther. “And it seemed fun!”

You raise an eyebrow. So he's an odd one. 

“Not for a financial need or…” You say, trying to prompt him into a more in depth answer. His smiles, yellow eyes flickering between your face and the rest of the apartment, probably taking it in. It's a nice apartment, and in a central part of Yorknew city. That's partly why you were so desperate for it. 

“Oh no, of course not. I could pay for this entire place if I felt like it.” He laughs lightly, and you chuckle. Probably a bad sign, you muse as he continues. “It's just that the address of my other residence got out and I had the most annoying visitors at all hours of the day.”

You raise your eyebrow high, so high you assume it's going to disappear into your hairline at any moment, and tap your pen. Hisoka shakes his head, pouting slightly and you kick yourself as it occurs to you once again how attractive he really is. 

“It was so inconvenient, I'm sure you know darling. So I had to move.” Hisoka says with a frown, head tilting to the side. “But I soon discovered that I had been put on a no buy list. Like a no fly list? You understand?”

He leans forward, like he's telling some great secret, and you nod with a sigh. This one is a complicated one. No matter how attractive you find his arms as they flex, or his thin waist in that odd outfit he wears, you need to remain rational and not rush such an important decision because you thought this guy was hot as fuck. Hisoka smiles, somehow not disturbing the strange symbols painted on his cheeks. 

“So I figured getting a roomie was the solution to both problems!” He says with a smile, pointing his finger in the air as if he's come up with the solution to a great puzzling problem. “No weak people will figure out my address, as your name will be on the lease. And paying you the rent mitigates the no buy list issue.”

“I see, how interesting.” You say, trying not to sound too amused. He sure is a weird one, alright. “Do you have any pets?”

“Oh no, animals don't like me.” He laughs, passing his hand through his hair again. “I couldn't tell you why, will that be an issue?”

“Oh, no.” You say, a beat of worry ticking at the back of your brain. “I don't have any pets, they make a lot of mess.”

It should probably be a bad sign that animals don't like him, but honestly all you care about is the fact that he doesn't have a pet, not any flags as red as his hair that answer might raise. 

“And you wouldn't object to sharing a bathroom?” You question. The apartment is nice, but it's a two bedroom one bath. You didn't know why, an odd design choice on the part of the former owners. Hisoka chuckles.

“Oh, not at all~” He says silkily, recrossing his legs with a flourish. “I can coexist just fine with someone as lovely as you. I hear that taking showers together conserves water~”

He shoots you a wink, a smirk flashing across his face. You laugh, trying to ignore what he's laying down on the table. It's better not to think of anything like that, lest it urge you closer and closer to just giving up and taking him on as a roommate.

“How environmentally conscious,” You say, appropriately neutral as you continue. “And may I ask what you do for work?”

“Ah work. That's a little complicated, I'm afraid.” Hisoka says, tilting his head to the side with a bit of a frown. “I suppose officially, I would classify as a blacklist hunter.”

Ah, of course. You can't really say you're surprised, but perhaps it's a bad sign for your mental health that his answer doesn't actually put you off as much as it should.

“I see,” you say, noting that down on your little notebook. Hisoka tilts his head, eyes flickering curiously.

“You don't seem at all alarmed.” He questions, yellow eyes staring directly at your face. Not dancing around your face and body, not at the wall behind you. He must be very interested in your reaction.

“It's really none of my business, as long as you don't mess with the apartment,” You explain, running a hand through your hair. “And besides, I'm a hunter as well, and you don't seem to mean any harm to me. Right now anyway.”

Hisoka blinks, letting the silence stretch on for a moment, filling the air of the cozy living room. He seems a bit surprised by your answer, for reasons you can't understand. Maybe he was surprised by your total lack of fear? Or maybe your casual attitude. It was only natural, both your parents were hunters and most of your clientele were as well. You supposed you were a bit dead to what was normal and unusual. You did make specialty weapons for people all over the world. Some of your best clientele were the infamous Zoldyck family. You were kind of used to weirdos dressed in odd costumes who wanted strange things. The only thing you might need to worry about from Hisoka was how attractive you found him. 

Hisoka chuckles. 

“How interesting~” he purrs, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. “What a strikingly brave person you are, doll.”

“I guess,” You say, shrugging off the pet name he’s already assigned you with a sigh. “Are there any questions you have for me? It's better to settle these things before you move in.”

“Ah, so you’ll have me then?” Hisoka asks, all smiles. You nod, shuffling your papers with a sigh. It seems he really is the best option. 

“Questions, hmm.” Hisoka says, tapping his chin. You wait patiently as he considers, a bit worried. Finally, he speaks. “I have an odd friend. You don't mind him showing up out of nowhere do you?”

You sigh. You've been doing a lot of sighing lately. 

“No, not really. Tell him my bedroom is off limits though.” You say, standing to your feet. You've known your share of weirdos, and as long as this one stays out of your private spaces you're fine. Hisoka smiles, rising smoothly to his feet with a slightly unhinged smile. He held out his hand, yet again. You eye it warily.

“So, we have a deal?” He asks, angling his hand upwards slightly, palm pointing into the ceiling. His nails are a bit long, you notice absentmindedly.

You reach out, taking his hand to shake. 

“Yes, for now.” You say, “But we still need to sign the papers.”

“Yes, of course.” Hisoka supplies, mouth curving into a smile as he grips your hand, bringing it up to his cold lips. You push down a flush, biting your lips as he presses a long kiss to the back of your hand. His yellow eyes flick up, meeting your own and pinning you to the spot. Finally, after what feels like an age, he stands up, gently releasing your hand from his chilly grip. It falls to your side, and you clear your throat.

“Would you like a tour?” You ask, proud of how clear your vocal cords remain. Hisoka chuckles, crossing his arms casually.

“Sure.” He laughs.

You fear for your future self. You’ve certainly found an odd roommate. 

⚀⚀⚀

Hisoka, despite the faults and red flags that constantly run in your vision, isn't actually that terrible of a roomate. He's quite clean, and not very noisy. He does cook at all, but you don't mind cooking for two and leaving leftovers for him as he comes and goes. In return, he cleans the kitchen for you, and often the rest of the house as well. The two of you end up not seeing each other as much as you would like, only meating for meals and the occasional free afternoon of dancing around each other. It's nice, honestly. You can ignore his other faults, like the makeup skin and hair products that are mixing with your own, and the incessant flirting. He flirts so much you assume it's just how he is. Because no matter how much you wanna fuck him, you doubt its returned. Because that's the other problem. You really wanna fuck him, and it can be reliably traced to a combination of a few things. 

One, because of your new roomie, you cant bring men home to fuck anymore. 

Two, He's just insanely attractive and touchy, a hand on your waist here, a brush of your neck there, and you're losing your mind.

And three, the walls are too thin for you to masturbate comfortably. You can only masturbate in the shower now. But that in itself is a problem. You try not to shower for too long because of the water bill and so you can only get yourself off way less than you need.

But it isn't really a big deal, you promise yourself. You don't find yourself spending long bouts of time with Hisoka anyway, so your obvious desire for him isn't on display. You can only hope you can hide it for as long as the two of your remaining roomies. 

⚀⚀⚀

You survey the counters of your bathroom, the white of the countertop slowly being swallowed by skincare. Your own skincare addiction was a beast, but with Hisoka living with you the problem had only worsened. The shelves were covered in various masks and serums, the cabinets taken up by painkillers and mysterious under the counter drugs. The shelves to the side of the counter are laden in your makeup, with a small space devoted to the few products Hisoka used to draw his star and teardrop. 

You shove a couple things aside to grab your hair brush. The mirror is clean, your reflection clear in the glass, a few little sticky notes stuck to one end. You eye them, your messy handwriting noting down the things you were running low on. It was better if you left them in the mirror. You looked at it every morning and night after all when you did your skincare. 

You sigh, running a brush over your scalp in relief. The shower isn't running yet, but you're excited for the opportunity to wash your hair, and of course, to masturbate. Your body is thrumming with pent up energy as you eye yourself in the mirror. Hisoka had been especially annoying this week. It seemed he had nothing to do, so every morning when you left for work you encountered him in the living room, and he was there when you returned. 

Sometimes he was on the couch, watching reality tv in a tank top and sweats, and sometimes he was clearly just coming from the gym with sweat gathering on his arms and face. Each time he was desperately tempting, and much too flirty for your sanity. Be it a wink and a flirty comment, or a brush of your waist and a breath on your neck. He was driving you crazy. 

You sigh, shedding the towel you had been wrapped in and fold it neatly, placing it on the small shelf next to the entrance of the shower. You dig your feet ingo the bathmat, running a hand through your hair with a sigh. And then you see it.

A spider. A nasty, giant spider the size of your palm, sitting directly in the shower. In the path of your feet.

You scream shrilly, jumping backwards dramatically as you run to get as far away from the spider as possible. You hate spiders, more than anything in the world. You scream again, your shrill voice echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Hisoka!” You shriek, hugging your naked waist in fear as the spider moves a few inches closer. “Come here!”

The door slams open, Hisoka moving with a sense of urgency. His face betrays no emotion besides amusement as he takes you in, shivering and naked, glaring at the spider on the shower floor.

“Can I help you doll?” he purrs, moving closer to you across the bathroom floor. You don't even notice, too busy with your worst enemy, the giant spider watching you from the shower. The shower in the bathroom is only covered with a slight wall of glass, leaving about a space wide enough for someone to pass through comfortably into the shower cubby. It's also enough space for the spider to escape and hunt you down relentlessly. 

“Don't you see it?” You hiss, body trembling in the chilly bathroom air. You shiver, holding your arms around your waist. You seem to have forgotten your nakedness. 

Hisoka chuckles, folding his hands across his chest as his yellow eyes scan your body, pausing on all the parts of interest. He licks his lips, moving towards you across the floor. You don't notice, too busy keeping an eye on the spider. 

“Look,” you whisper. “The spider. In the shower.”

“Ah,” Hisoka says, a slight laugh contained in his voice. “Afraid of spiders, are you?”

You roll your eyes, not happy with his sarcasm.

The spider jumps, moving out of the shower cubby and towards you on the floor. You shriek, jumping backwards and into Hisoka’s arms, clinging to his muscled body as you scream.

“Ugh, it's coming this way!” You yell, hiding your face in Hisoka’s chest as your legs clench around his waist. “Just kill it!”

Hisoka laughs, the sound rattling in his chest as you cling close to him. He has his phone in his pocket, poking against your thighs. It's odd, because you don't remember this pair of sweatpants he's wearing having pockets. The spider sits heavy on your mind though, and you grip his muscled shoulders close with a whimper.

“As you wish.” Hisoka laughs, gripping your thighs and holding your body close to him. Faintly, you inhale his scent, a mix of flowers and musk and the unmistakable faint scent of blood. It turns you on as fear runs through your blood. You hid your head in his chest.

“Is it dead?” You whisper, gripping him tightly. Your heart is beating fast against your chest, begging to escape and run away from the stupid spider. 

“Yes, doll.” Hisoka purrs, other hand coming up to stroke your hair gently, an attempt to calm you down. “Your knight in shining armor has rescued you from the great threat lurking in the depths of the shower.”

You roll your eyes. He's making fun of you.

“Did you throw it away?” You question, not loosening your death grip on his shoulders. 

“Yes, I'm delighted to report it’s out of your sight.” Hisoka says, a chuckle in his voice. You pull your head away from his chest cautiously, pearing backwards and scouring the bathroom floor for any remnants of the spider. The floor is empty, only occupied with the fluffy bath mat. You sigh in relief, your chest heavy distractingly against the black tank top Hisoka wears. 

Then you realize exactly where you are. You're clinging to Hisoka like a tree, completely naked and clutching at his body. You shriek again, almost as loud as you did when you saw that damn spider and fly away from him like you've touched fire. Hisoka chuckles.

“Aw, come back.” he coos, running a hand through his hair. “You were so cute, all helpless and scared.”

You frown and bite back a groan at the same time, covering your tits and pussy with your hands as best you can.

“Get out!” You shriek, fighting back the arousal that leaks in as you take him in. 

“How rude!” Hisoka chuckles, pulling his tank top over his head. “No thank you?”

You yank your eyes away from his pale chest, as your pussy twitches with arousal. He toys with the hem of his sweatpants. As he tugs them lower, and you take in the v line pointing lower and lower, you realize he's not wearing boxers. You yank your eyes away, but it's too late. He's seen your wandering eyes. 

“The water bill is getting too high.” You say out of nowhere, body tingling with arousal. 

HIsoka tilts his head, biting back a smirk.

“Is that so?” He smirks, voice lilting seductively. “You know, I've been told showering together conserves water.”

You bite back a smile. A callback to your very first conversation. You let your hands drop, as you move towards the shower. All pretense is gone, just two people who really wanna fuck each others brians out. You giggle.

“What a clever plan.” You say, stepping into the shower and turning on the water with a sigh. Hisoka crowds behind you, smirking like the cat that got the cream. You suppose that's an accurate description for what's happening right now. 

⚀⚀⚀

“How long have you known,” You whimper, boobs and face pressed against the glass divider. Hisoka chuckles, tick chock drilling your insides as you moan loudly. The steam of the shower floats through the air, obscuring his face slightly. His hair is down, dripping with water and plastered to his face, but he doesn't seem to care. You brace your hands against the glass as he grips his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Since your eyes first scanned my body,” Hisoka grunts, hands gripping you so tight you’ll bruise. “You aren't exactly subtle, doll.”

“Ah, how embarrassing.” you murmur, hair falling wet and heavy down your back, tangling in your mouth. 

“Don't be too upset about it,” Hisoka murmurs, pressing his back against you as he drills deeper into you. “Your lustful glances were very mutual. You're simply a bit romantically oblivious.”

You whimper, hands scrabbling at the slick glass. The bathroom is filled with steam, the sound of the shower muffling your moans and the slapping of wet skin. You hope your neighbors can't hear you. 

“Am i?” You whimper, head falling back as his steady thrusts bring you closer and closer to completion. “I thought you were just like that.”

“I am,” Hisoka mutters, sinking his teeth into your neck. You clench down on him, body tensing as pleasure and pain erupt from the bite mark, tangling and twisting into a heady cocktail of arousal. 

“Ah, god.” You moan, nipples rubbing against the glass. “We should have done this sooner.”

Hisoka’s clawed hand reaches down, abandoning your bruised hips to rub circles into your clit. Stars burst behind your eyes, the bubbles and steam of the ballroom only adding to the floaty, dream like atmosphere. Hisoka chuckles, body hard and powerful against your own soft, curvy one. 

“I think we'll be doing this a lot from now on.” He half chuckles, half groans, body pressing against yours, pressing you to the glass.

Your lips part as you cum, screaming his name into the abyss of hot steam and powerful muscles. And as the orgasms overwhelm your body, you smile to yourself against the glass.

It seems getting a roommate was shaping up to be the best decision you’d ever made. 

.....

Endnotes: my sister is terrified of spiders. I channeled her fear for the spider bit. I don't like spiders very much, but she's genuinely terrified lol.

Also, guess who finished this before one in the morning, instead of at like three. Im hella proud of myself for that <3

[kierancaz]

Replying to your request for prompts:

Could you write a super cute fic of Reader being on the quest with the other dwarves, and having extreme menstrual cramps, and the dwarves being overly gentle, kind, and worrying? maybe even thorin uncharacteristically gently rubbing her back as she curls up beneath her blanket?

The Company When You Have Cramps

warnings: female parts/female reader, menstruation, cramps, lmk if there's anything else !!

having woman parts sucked. and you were well aware of this when you set out on the journey to The Lonely Mountain with Thorin's company and prepared accordingly.

however, what you weren't prepared for, was cramps so bad they could rival the power of the gods (or so you thought).

you had carried on traveling for as long as could until the pain was quiet literally unbearable and you were ready to double over and just lay in the middle of the road.

at first you thought that the others would be mad or just tell you to suck it up and keep moving, but actually it was the exact opposite. they stopped and started setting up camp for the night and Oin even asked why you didn't speak up sooner seeing as you where in so much discomfort.

they didn't have any issues with you rolling out your bed mat and curling up like a ball with your blanket while they set up camp. you wished you help but you were in so much pain you didn't even think you could get up if you wanted to.

Bomber started cooking shortly after everything was set up and the fire was started. Oin had mixed together some herbs and it dulled the pain slightly but it wasn't much help, you were still in a lot of pain.

dwarves don't have a lot of women in their ranks, so imagine they take these struggles and the pain that women go though very seriously. they treat their women with the upmost respect and care.

as you laid there curled up with your head just barely peaking out from over your blanket Thorin came and squatted down in front of you. he has a sister, so I imagine he's pretty familiar with the struggles you're dealing with.

"how are you feeling?" he asks and after a moment you sit up properly next to him. "pretty shit actually."

he chuckles at your remark and hands you some warm soup, when you take it he moves his hand away to rub your back soothingly. the others are pretty preoccupied so they don't notice his sweet gesture, but you're very grateful for it.

Oin gives you more herbs after you eat and Ori joins you for a bit to talk and ask if you're alright. Fili and Kili also join you to joke around for a bit and try and get you to take your mind off the miserable state you were in. this actually works.

Bilbo also joins in on just talking with you when the others have to go do stuff like snuff out the fire or start their turn keeping watch. he brings you water and snacks/more food because food makes everything better. He is also the only one who thought to get something heated for you to put on your stomach.

he takes your water pack and as the fire is going down he places it close by and lets it heat up for a while, then he gives it you. he's very sad he doesn't have tea to offer you.

every once in a while someone will come up to you and ask if you're ok and if you need anything. just as everyone was getting ready for bed Thorin checks on you again and Oin gives you some herbs for sleep.

when you wake up you're convinced that whatever Oin gave you before you went to sleep wasn't just to ease pain and make you tired because you felt better than ever. you definitely had a spring in your step for the rest of the day.

the company was glad to see you feeling better and you helped them clean up and get back on the road. no one complained about having to stop and instead checked up on you throughout the journey to make sure you were still feeling ok.

anyway all of these guys are angles and I love them. they would def be worried and would tell you that if you're ever in pain from cramps or something again to let them know so they could stop for a bit and give you herbs.

(also if Gandalf was around when you were dealing with all that he def would've sat there with his pipe and let you smoke some of it. You know, just to keep you relaxed lol).

[kaces-graham-crackers]

Stirring the Quiet - Sips with Stardom

Jenn Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: Y/N's morning is stirred when Jenna arrives before opening hours. She finds herself sipping coffee and sharing stories with the star again. Between bodyguards, family, and an unexpected promise, Y/N's day becomes more than just her regular routine—a start to a little more, one sip at a time.

Word Count: 2.9k

As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar smell of Chinese takeout filled the air. The sounds of laughter and clatter of utensils echoed from the kitchen. Kicking off my shoes and slipping into my slippers, I sighed in relief. Home. Before I could take another step, Mr. Noodles—my black-and-white tuxedo cat, complete with his signature black bowtie—greeted me by weaving between my legs, purring loudly. "Hey, Noodles," I chuckled, bending down to scratch his chin. He meowed once, flicking his tail, and followed me into the kitchen. Marcus and Caleb sat at the table, surrounded by various takeout containers. Marcus dug into his lo mein while Caleb balanced his fork in one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. "Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!" Marcus called out, waving his fork in the air dramatically. "Yeah, too high on your horse to join your big brothers for dinner? Caleb chimed in without even glancing up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and dropped my bag onto the floor, giving Mr. Noodles a final pat before sitting down at the table. "Whatever you say, peasants, you wouldn't believe the day I had." Marcus raised an eyebrow, grinning. "What happened? Did Tom Cruise stop by to argue with his reflection again?" Caleb snicker. "Or did Chris Hemsworth come in to try and order his post-workout protein shake?" 'Ok. So maybe I don't only keep celebrity conversations with just Wilma.' "No, I still don't know what kind of gym rat demands a coffee shop to make a protein shake," I said, grabbing some fried rice. "But actually, it was Meryl Streep. She and her manager walked in, supposedly for a meeting. And they broke into a feud over whether or not she should be having hot chocolate and a donut." Both of them looked at each other, chuckling. Marcus leaned back in his chair to scratch Mr. Noodles under him. "Meryl Streep, defending her sugar right? You go, girl!" I grinned, stuffing a dumpling in my mouth. "Yeah, his face when she chewed him out was priceless." Caleb's full attention is on me now. "What about Will Ferrell? Did he drop by and give any hints about his upcoming movie?" I shook my head. "No Will Ferrell today. But Liam Neeson came in, ordered tea and a jelly donut, and then tripped on his way out. Spilled tea all over the place." Marcus and Caleb both froze mid-bite before bursting into laughter. Marcus set his fork down, "Let me guess, he threatened the floor after that one, right?" Caleb swallowed his food, "I can just imagine him giving his famous death stare. What did you do?" "I gave him another one, free of charge," I shrugged. "The man looked so heartbroken. I couldn't let him walk out like that." They laughed again, shaking their heads in disbelief. Marcus wiped his mouth, "Man, only in your line of work do we find out Meryl Streep and Liam Neeson are out here having bad days like the rest of us."

We kept eating, trading stories about our day. Marcus talked about a guy at the gym who almost dropped a barbell trying to impress some girl. At the same time, Caleb vented about the latest office drama. While leaning over to offer the piece of chicken on my fork to Mr.Noodles, without even thinking, I casually mentioned, "Oh yeah, Jenna Ortega came in today." Marcus froze, his fork nearly dropping, while Caleb slowly lowered his phone. Both of them stared at me in studded silence. "Wait...what?" Caleb asked, voice rising. "The Jenna Ortega?" It took me a second to realize what I had just said, and I immediately felt my face heat up. Damn. "Uhh...yeah. She was just, you know, having coffee." Marcus leaned over the table, grin growing wider. "Are you seriously telling me you met Jenna Ortega and didn't freak out? Come on, you've been obsessed since she made it big on Wednesday." "I wasn't obsessed!" I protested, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter. "And it wasn't a big deal. She's just a regular person." Caleb raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you...like talk to her?" I groaned, running a hand through my hair and throwing my head back. "Yeah, we talked a little. She was reading a book I loved, so we ended up geeking out about the author. She already read it, too, just revisiting it." Marcus' grin grew, looking smug. "You geeked out about a book...with her? And you're sitting here acting like it's no big deal?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She's just another customer like anyone else, guys," Caleb smirked. "Uh-huh, sure. Except you're blushing right now." I could feel the heat creeping back into my face. "Am not." Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Our lil sis rubbing elbows with big stars. Be careful if she wants to meet us, we're totally gonna embarrass you." I groaned, covering my face. "Shut Up, Please!"

After dinner, I headed upstairs. Changing into a pair of comfy sweats and a loose T-shirt. Noodles, ever my loyal shadow, hopped onto the bed and curled into a little ball beside me as soon as I laid down. He purred, vibrating through the blankets. I grabbed my phone and, doomed scrolled through Instagram and TikTok. But no matter what I did, my mind drifted back to Jenna. The way she was there—from anxious to completely calm in the café. It was hard to match that with the version of her I'd seen on the screen. And the fact that we actually talked? That was still sinking in. Then there was the blush. That small, subtle blush when she realized she was the last one left in the café caught me off guard. Jenna Ortega, the same Jenna who played the confident, intense character on screen, blushing because she'd lost track of time in a quiet little coffee shop? It made her seem so much more...cute. I immediately slapped my face. 'No, no, not what I meant. I meant human.'" When I looked over, Noodles' eyes were wide, and his tail flickering. I must have startled him with that slap. After a moment of us watching each other, Clearly unimpressed, he huffed and circled a few times, kneading the blankets before settling back down. "Sorry Noodles...What do you think? I murmured, my fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes behind his ears. "Do you think I made a fool of myself?" He responded with a soft purr, utterly unbothered by my internal crisis. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, my mind replaying every detail of the evening: the way Jenna smiled when I brought her the donut, her casual posture as we talked about horror novels, and, of course, the way she blushed. It was as if, for a moment, she wasn't Jenna Ortega, the actress. She was just...Jenna. A regular person who got lost in a book, just like me. I sighed, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. "I'll probably never see her again, right?" I muttered to myself. Noodles meowed softly in response, unbothered by my troubles. But a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe she'd come back. Noodles stretched, yawned, and moved closer, curling up beside me. I smiled at his contentment, but my mind was still swirling with thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if this was it or if I'd get the chance to talk to her again. Maybe she'd come back. With her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep, contemplating the unexpected conversation that had turned my usual day at work into something unforgettable.

The next morning came far too quickly. My alarm blared, and I groaned, rolling over to smack the snooze button. Mr Noodles, the early riser, pounced on my chest and meowed directly in my face until I finally gave in. "Alright, I'm up," I muttered, pushing him off and dragging myself out of bed. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and grabbed my bag, ready to head back to The Daily Grind. As I patted Mr. Noodle's head one more time before slipping out the door. I headed out the door, keys in hand, and my phone buzzed as I locked up. I answered. "Hey, Y/N! You're going to have to open up today," she said, practically out of breath like she was jogging. "The twins are dragging their feet and won't put their shoes on! She yelled that last part as I pulled out of my parking spot. "Mama couldn't take them, so I got stuck on babysitter duty again. I'll be in later." I chuckled, imagining the chaos on her end. "No worries, Captain, I can hold down the fort until you come." "Thanks! Oh, and by the way..." Wilma's tone shifted to something more playful. "How did things go with Primera last night?" I paused for a moment, feeling my face heat up. Of course, Wilma was going to ask. I couldn't avoid it, but...did I really have to tell her everything? I could already picture the girl tackling me if she had to find out on her own fruition. "Y/N? You still there?" Wilma prompted, clearly sensing my hesitation. I sighed, knowing there was no way out. "It was fine. We just talked a bit more," I started, trying to keep my voice casual. "Mhm, sure," Wilma replied, egging me on. "And?" I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth creep up my neck. "Jenna...actually walked me to my car," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "And then she teased me, said I had somehow 'charmed' her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She flashed that smile—half playful, half serious—like she knew she was messing with me. Honestly, it was impossible not to blush." "Wait, hold up, She walked you to your car?" Wilma interrupted, her voice dripping with amusement. I could practically see her grinning on the other side of the phone. "And what smile? You've already memorized her smile, huh?" I groaned, blushing. "It wasn't like that, Wilma. She was just being...friendly." Wilma laughed. "Friendly? Please. You're a natural-born flirt, and you don't even realize it. And with "that" smile? She was totally into i—" "I wasn't flirting!" I protested; the thought of Jenna's smirk made me doubt my words. "She was just messing with me." "Oh sure, because it's so easy to charm someone with those smooth barista skills," Wilma teased. "You better brace yourself when she comes back. You're in trouble, Y/N." "Yeah," I admitted, resting my head on the steering wheel. "And then her bodyguards showed up out of nowhere and scared the life out of me." Wilma's laughter echoed through the phone. "Bodyguards? Of course. This keeps getting better by the second! What else? I know there's more." I sighed, already resigned to the teasing. "She made me promise that the next time she comes by, I'd share some of the stories about some bodyguards at the café." There was a beat of silence, and then, as expected, her laughter doubled. "Y/N, you've got her hooked! Wild café stories? She's definitely coming back now. Congrats—you've got yourself a celebrity lover. You're basically famous." "Wilma, seriously," I groaned. "Please don't blow this out of proportion." "Oh, honey, it's already out of proportion," her voice full of playful mischief. "You've charmed Jenna Ortega, and now she's coming back for more. I can already see it—this is how it all starts." I rolled my eyes, fully aware of how this conversation would go. "You're impossible." Wilma snickered. "Well, look at you—handling business like a pro. Don't let the fame go to your head, mascot. Remember to stay humble when you're hanging out with Hollywood Royalty." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, though I couldn't suppress the small laugh. "I'll try not to let it change me."

"Alright, gotta get these monsters buckled and shipped off to school. Don't have too much fun without me!" "Sure, I'll try not to, and hopefully, I'll survive the first horde," I said, grinning as I hung up the phone. As I pocketed my phone, I shook my head, a smile lingering on my lips. I was starting to get used to the teasing. I grabbed my bag and headed inside. The sun crept up, casting soft light through the windows as I unlocked the door. Stepping inside, I could still feel the leftover warmth from yesterday. The café was quiet and still, just how I liked it before the rush. I went to the back, checked in, and threw my stuff into my locker before heading to the employee area. I slipped into my all-black barista uniform—simple black pants and a fitted black shirt before getting my apron from the hook by the door. The apron was the only pop of color, a warm brown that stood out against the dark. As I tied it around my waist, I fell into work mode. First things first: the plants. I grabbed the watering can we kept under the counter, filled it up halfway, and made my way around, giving each hanging plant a good drink. The soft trickle of water and the rustle of leaves was strangely calming, making the café feel like it was waking up, too. I always made sure to take extra care of the plants; Wilma was obsessed with them. Her grandmother had a green thumb, and she followed suit. So she'd notice if even one leaf looked droopy. Next up, I headed to the kitchen to bake the day's pastries. The scent of flour and sugar greeted me as I pulled out the ingredients. I started with the croissants, carefully rolling the dough before placing them on the baking tray.

While they baked, I started on the rest of today's menu items. If a customer wanted anything else, we'd bake it fresh for them. Next, the muffins were mixed with batter and folded in fresh blueberries. The lemon scones were last—I zested the lemons, mixed the dough, and shaped them perfectly before sliding them into the oven. As they finished in the oven, the warm, sweet smells began to fill the café, and I could already imagine the regulars lining up for their favorites. Once they were done, I arranged the croissants, muffins, and scones, which were still hot, and I knew they'd be the first to go as soon as we opened the doors. I also double-checked the coffee machines, making sure they were clean and ready to brew all day long. Once the plants were watered and pastries set, I headed to the front window to hang up a new poster advertising an upcoming poetry night we were hosting. Wilma printed and designed it with bold artistic letters and a little sketch of a coffee cup next to it. I used a bit of tape to secure the edges, securing it to the front window and centered for everyone to see. As I finished up, I wiped down the tables and chairs, making sure everything was spotless. The last thing I needed was someone complaining about a sticky spot on a table or chair. I rearranged the cushions, giving the booths that extra welcoming touch. Everything was in place by the time I was done, and The Daily Grind was ready to go. The café had this lived-in feel that always made me smile. It was the kind of space that felt like a warm hug—for anyone who needed it. I poured the fresh streaming brew into a mug, fixing it up just how I liked it, feeling the warmth spreading through my hands. As I leaned against the counter, taking that first comforting sip, a familiar figure appeared outside, her bodyguards in tow. I wasn't even officially open yet, but when Jenna Ortega knocks, who am I to not answer? I walked over to unlock the door, letting her and the guards in. Jenna wasn't in her usual hoodie this time. Today, she wore a stylish see-through white tee paired with a pair of plaid pants with high heels. Looking casual but chic. "You look nice," I said, feeling the comment slip out naturally. Jenna smiled warmly. "Thanks. She added, "I have an early interview for an upcoming film...and then some other boring meetings," her tone was slightly sarcastic. I gave her a teasing look. "Boring? Sounds like you've got a rough life," I joked, rolling my eyes playfully. Jenna chuckles lightly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah, it's tough being me," she shot back. I shrugged, "Well, technically, we're not open yet, but I've already got everything set up, so if you want, I can get you and your crew settled in." Jenna exchanged a quick look with her bodyguards, who nodded back at her. "Thanks, that would be great." I turned to the guards, who had positioned themselves quietly near the entrance. "So, what can I get you guys?" The taller two, who had a more serious demeanor, spoke first. "I'll take a hot coffee. Black, with two pumps of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon." The second guard, who seemed more talkative, said with a small smile, "Tea, please. With milk and one sugar. I'm more of a tea guy myself." I nodded and then looked back at Jenna, expecting her to give her order, but I beat her. "Iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream, right?" Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Not bad. I guess I'm predictable." Jenna leaned her back on the counter as I got to work preparing the drinks, glancing toward the front. "What's that about?" she asked, pointing to the poster I hung earlier. "Oh, that? We run an event for people to come to enjoy poetry or music with their coffee. It's pretty laid-back. Kind of a 'grab the mic if you feel like it' vibe." Jenna nodded, looking at it. "Noted," was all she said softly. "Here's your drinks," I called. Each drink lined up. I handed the bodyguards their drinks, and they settled into the bar area by the cash register while Jenna and I sat at one of the tables, far enough away to talk privately.

"Sorry to inconvenience you again." Jenna replied, smiling briefly before glancing out the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her drink, a little distracted. "You look like you're lost," I teased. "Something on your mind?" Jenna blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and giving me a small smile." Just thinking about the day ahead. Meetings, interviews...nothing too exciting." She glanced at me, smile falling slightly. "But I guess everyone has their own version of busy, right?" I nodded. "Yeah, but at least your 'busy' involves making movies. Not a bad gig." Jenna chuckled softly, "True, but you'd be surprised how much of it is just waiting around, talking about things you've already said a thousand times. It's not all glamorous." I tilted my head slightly, "I can imagine. It's like running a coffee shop. People think it's just pouring drinks and chatting with customers, but there is a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff no one sees." She looked up around me, a spark of intrigue in her eyes. "Yeah? Like what?" I shrugged. "You know, making sure machines are maintained, cleaned, and functional, keeping the inventory stocked, baking pastries fresh every day, And don't even get me started with dealing with the occasional difficult customer, celebrity or not." She laughed, her smile returning tenfold. "I guess we both deal with our fair share of drama, huh?" I grinned, nodding. "Exactly. but hey, at least you get to wear cool outfits. All I get is this apron." She glanced at my apron. "Well...it suits you. And besides, I'm sure you could pull off one or two if you tried." My blush crept up, but I sipped from my cup to cover it. Jenna gave me a playful smile, taking a sip of her own. "So," Jenna began, "Where's Wilma this morning? I feel like I'm missing the other half of this Daily Grind dynamic duo." "She had to drop off her siblings at school," I explained, getting comfortable. "We've been best friends since preschool. Never really been apart, even traveled across the country to open this place together." Jenna's curiosity grew. "That's amazing. No wonder you guys make a great team; you're like a hive mind." I nodded, laughing at the thought. "As terrifying as that is, we do make a great team. Wilma's practically family. We've seen each other through school and jobs. It's been an adventure." Jenna's gaze softened as she asked, "And your real family? Are they around?" I shifted slightly, setting my drink down. "My older brothers, Marcus and Caleb, live here in California with me. We share an apartment together. But the rest of my family, my parents and younger sister, are back in New York." Her eyes lit up. "Wait, you've got a younger sister too? Same here—she can be such a pain, always finding ways to bug me, but that's little sisters for, right?" Jenna chuckled softly, a mix of affection and exaggeration in her voice. "She keeps me on my toes." I chuckled, adding, "Tell me about it. Sometimes, it's a lot of deciding whether to ship her off or not, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. And then, of course, there's Mr. Noodles." Jenna's brow furrowed in confusion, gnawing at her straw. "Mr. Noodles?" I smiled, nodding. My tuxedo cat. He's the real boss of the house." Jenna gasped loudly, startling her guards. "I need to see pictures. Now." I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the dozens of photos I had of Mr. Noodles, and handed it over. Jenna's face lit up with a huge smile as she swiped through the photos. "He's adorable! Look at this gentleman; his tie is too cute! How can you ever leave him to go to work?" I shrugged, shaking my head. "It's tough, but he's got work too. He's a professional napper around the clock, so he manages without me." Jenna handed the phone back, shaking her head in return. But my brain froze; her fingers brushed against mine for a brief moment. It quite literally—shocked me. "Thanks," she said, her hand lingering just a second longer than I expected before she pulled away. "No problem," I replied, trying to calm my racing heart.

"I think I might be in love with Mr. Noodles more than anything else." she joked. I laughed as the door swung open, and Wilma burst in, a disheveled mess, panting like she had just run a marathon. "Sorry, sorry! I swear, herding those beasts into the car is like trying to wrangle lions." Jenna, her guards, and I all turned to look at Wilma, who attempted to play it cool, straightening up as she wiped her brow. "Don't mind me. I'll be in the back getting ready." But before disappearing, she shot me a cheeky smile and said, "Keep charming, mascot." I quickly drank from my empty mug, hoping the ground of the mug would swallow me whole. Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Mascot?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. I rubbed the back of my neck, "Yeah, it's just Wilma's nickname. She has called me since we opened the café, and she says I'm the face of the place." Jenna let out a laugh, "That's cute. It suits you," she teased, her smile growing. She added, "So, do I call you Mascot now, or is that just reserved by Wilma?" I chuckled, shaking my head. "More like trademarked; she's big on original nicknames but doesn't mind if they stick." "Alright, then, I'll have to go to the drawing board." She chuckled. Jenna's guards glanced at each other, then at the phone in front of them, before standing up. "Ma'am, we've got to head out. Your manager's been calling non-stop," one of them said, holding up Jenna's phone. It read 25 missed calls and 12 growing messages. She sighed, clearly not ready to leave, but she nodded. "Alright, guess I've got to go face the music." She stood up, and I offered to top off her coffee. "You've got a busy schedule. Want a refill to help get through it?" Jenna smiled gratefully. "That would be great, thanks." I quickly refilled her cup, handing it back to her as she pulled out some cash. I frowned, confused. "You don't have to—" She cut me off with a smirk. "I never paid for my drink the other day, and I'm covering today, too. Keep the change as a tip for the drink and for treating me like an actual person." She handed me the cash, along with a piece of paper. As Jenna and her guards left the café, the door softly closed behind them. I stare down at the money. Suddenly, I felt a pinch on my arm. "Ow!" I yelped, spinning around to see Wilma scolding me. "That was to snap you out of it. Also, for not charging your celebrity crush like a regular customer," she teased, hands on her hips. I shot her a look. "I was! I was just caught up in conversation. And besides, Jenna's a good tipper." Looking back at it, I realized the paper wasn't just her receipt—it had her Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom, along with a note that read, 'Thanks for the coffee and conversations again, Slick. You still owe me some more café stories.' I stood there, dumbfounded, as Wilma yelled back, "Come on, mascot, it's opening time before I take your tip!" Snapping back to reality, I shook my head and pocketed the receipt and money. "Alright, alright, I was just counting!"

[minniesmutt]

☾ ━━━━━━ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

☾ ━━━ PAIRING: LEE KNOW X READER ☾ ━━━ CONTENT: GRIM REAPER! LEE KNOW, HUMAN! READER, DEATH, ACCIDENTAL OD, MENTION OF DRUG USE, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, MENTION OF S*ICIDE, HOSPITALS, INJURY, UNESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, PRAISE, FINGERING, HAND JOB, UNPROTECTED SEX, BEGGING, PET NAMES (PRETTY KITTY, KITTEN, BABY), CREAMPIE, ANGST ☾ ━━━ WC: 2.2K ☾ ━━━ repost from old blog ☾ ━━━ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog

     Y/n didn’t believe in an afterlife. Not until she got pulled from it. The bright light of the hospital blinded her eyes as she blinked. No one else was in the room. 

     Well, except for the guy in all black in the corner. She blinked again to adjust to the light and he was gone. She was a bit confused but concluded it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Especially when a nurse walked in.

     “Welcome back to the land of the living, Ms. L/n,” The nurse smiled as she grabbed her file and walked over to the monitor next to her.

     “How long was I out for?” 

     “Not long. Your friends neighbor works at the hospital and called us as soon as they came knocking. Gave you a bit of Narcan but you crashed just as the paramedics got there so they had to restart your heart. You’ve been stable since you got to the hospital about an hour ago. I’ll let the doctors know you're awake.”

     The nurse walked out of the room and Y/n groaned, trying to move her arms. Handcuffed. 

     She had a friend that knew people. They got some harder drugs one night. It was all fun. Music blared through the apartment. She remembered taking some and then closing her eyes. Between that and the hospital, she had no fucking clue.

     The handcuffs were confusing. Did they think it was on purpose? That she actually tried offing herself through drugs?

     “Ms. L/n, how are you?” the doctor’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. 

     “Tired,” Y/n shrugged

     “So am I,” the doctor pulled up a chair next to the bed, “Can I ask a couple of questions about the other night?”

     “I can’t guarantee I’ll remember much.”

     “That’s okay. Whatever you can remember,” the doctor answered, “Did you bring the drugs?”

     “No. I wouldn’t even know how to find a dealer. My friend knows people.”

     “Was this your first time using?”

     “Yes.”

     “I noticed in your file that you have a history of depression. Have you ever thought about—”

     “My depression is managed. Maybe once or twice a year I get a fleeting thought of ending it. But never have I thoroughly thought I would.” Y/n cut off the doctor

     “So the drugs were, just for fun?”

     “Just for fun. I accidentally took too much, I’m sure it happens.”

     “It does. You were lucky we were able to revive you. Get some rest Ms. L/n.”

     The doctor smiled at her before leaving the room. She did rest as the doctor said. Mostly since she really couldn’t do anything while she was handcuffed to a bed.

     Minho watched the whole thing. He’d been watching the whole situation since she took the drugs last. He felt bad for her.

     The friends she was with weren’t exactly the best influence. Offering more drugs to each other. He knew at least one of them was bound to die tonight. He didn’t expect it to be one of the prettiest humans he’d seen in decades. 

     He watched her confusion at the scene happening before her. Her friends screamed at her unmoving body to wake up.

     “What the hell?” Y/n asked no one, but Minho still answered

     “You're dead.” Y/n turned to where he stood behind her

     “Who are you?”

     “Death, Grim Reaper, whatever you prefer.”

     Y/n looked back at her friends still trying to wake her up, “do they know?”

     “Considering how high they are, they haven’t figured it out yet. Come on,” Minho said

     “Where are we going?”

     “Whatever afterlife you believe in. But you can’t stay here.”

     Y/n looked at the man in black and then back at her friends. What shocked her most was they were actually trying to wake her up. After they pressured her into joining them. Only ever talking to her when no one else wanted to join them

     “Why are they trying?”

     “Feel bad maybe?” 

     “For what? They never cared. No one did.”

     He’d heard that line so many times. A lot of it was lies. Everyone had one person that really cared about them. Minho felt like she wasn’t lying about this.

     “Humans are weird. Let’s go,” Minho chalked it up to that, he always did. But, he couldn’t help but feel bad for the soul.

     Rather than taking her to whatever afterlife she believed him in, he opted to take care of her soul, personally. He couldn’t explain why, but for the first time since he became a reaper, she made him feel something.

     “What’s this?” Y/n asked as they walked into his ‘home’

     “Call it home. It’s usually somewhere I just hide away when I need to be away from the other reapers,” Minho explained

     “I thought you were gonna make me cross over.” Y/n looked around the place, it was pretty nice, mostly grey and black decorations. Better than any place she had lived in.

     Minho ignored the statement, mainly because he couldn’t even pinpoint why he was doing this in the first place. And maybe the more time he spent with her, the more confused he got. 

     Time worked so differently in the afterlife, even for him as a reaper. It was hard to say how much time passed in the land of the living, but for them, it’d been a year of hiding away her soul. He still had a job but he always made sure to come back to her, even for a bit.

     He got involved with a rather, unpleasant soul who refused to believe they were dead. He’d dealt with it before, reaping them was an easy solution but the guy wasn’t easy. Minho got hit with his own scythe before he pushed the soul to the afterlife. He just needed to rest.

     He opened the door to find Y/n laying on their couch reading one of the books he had collected over the centuries. Not unusual, it wasn’t like they had any kind of technology in the afterlife to watch tv or text someone. If she wasn’t reading when he was home, it was his fault. 

     Their relationship became complicated a few weeks back. Randomly talking turned into playful flirting. Somehow it led to making out of the living room floor. 

     Y/n heard the door open and cast a glance at him, “You look terrible.” Her book was set aside as she rushed over to him.

     “I’m fine, just need to rest,” Minho assured her as she grabbed his face and looked over him.

     “What happened?” She asked, “You look drained.”

     Y/n got him over to the couch and sat him down, kneeling on the ground between his legs. “Violent soul grabbed my scythe and attacked me. I’ll be fine.” 

     “Minho,” Y/n tsks

     “Not the name,” He laughed, which was a bad idea.

     Y/n saw him grab at his torso and moved his hand, unbuttoning his black shirt to see the wound. “If you wanted me to strip, you could’ve just asked sweetheart.”

     “Have I ever told you how insufferable you are sometimes?”

     “Almost all the time.”

     There wasn’t much blood thankfully— if there was really any, to begin with. She was still trying to grasp the death thing honestly. 

     “Hey,” Minho called out and grabbed her hand from the wound that was indeed healing due to his supernatural abilities. Minho pulled her up onto his lap, her legs on either side of him, “I’m fine.”

     “Promise?” She asked

     “Don’t worry about me. It’s not like I can die again.”

     “Yeah but what if you just… disappear?”

     “I’m not gonna disappear.”

     “Promise me you won't? I don’t…”

     “You don't what?”

     “I don't wanna lose the one person that’s actually cared about me, even if we’re dead.”

     Minho leaned forward and pushed his lips onto hers. It took Y/n a moment to register what was happening. Slowly her hands cupped his face, lips melting to move with his. His hands held onto her hips and slowly rocked her against him. 

     “Swear I won’t disappear,” Minho mumbled against her lips, moving down to her neck

     “Fuck,” Y/n whined as his teeth grazed her sweet spot

     “How can you be dead but so fucking horny?” he asked as he kept kissing her neck

     “I was dead inside when I was alive but still horny,” Y/n joked

     Minho laughed with her as she pushed his shirt off his back. He took his hands off her hips to toss the fabric to the side and then slipped her shirt off her body and tossed it to the ground. 

     “Your fucking beautiful,” He pulled her back down onto his lips. His tongue slipped past her lips and fought for dominance with her as she pushed him back against the sofa. 

     His hands grabbed her breasts and massaged them as her hips rolled against his semi. Both moaned as their tongues danced together. 

     “I need you, Min,” Y/n spoke as her hands undid his belt and pants. 

     “Yeah? Thinking about fucking the grim reaper makes you that wet?”

     He pushed a hand under her bottoms and panties, fingers sliding between her folds before pushing two into her while her hand pulled his cock out and wrapped her hand around him. 

     Y/n jacked him off while he fingered her open on his fingers. Moans uncontrollably fall out of their mouths. 

     “I need to fuck you,” Minho groaned as he threw his head back

     “What are you waiting for?” Y/n asked

     Minho kicked into action, laying both of them on the floor and discarding the remainder of their clothes. He pushed his lips onto hers again, taking his cock into her hand and positioning the lips at her entrance. 

     He sunk into her slowly as he lay on his elbows, lips moving in sync with hers. Y/n cupped his face while her legs hung loosely around his hips. Being dead came with the perk of not feeling pain. 

     Minho pulled out and pushed back into her. Slowly and firmly. Centuries after dying and not feeling anything for anyone until now made him appreciate the moment. 

     Y/n moaned into his mouth as his hips deliciously rolled into her. More than sure he was hitting impossible spots no one alive could reach, ever. She couldn't help but clench around him.

     “Feel so good around me,” He spoke against her lips

     “I need you to come in me, min. Please,” Y/n begged as his head dipped to her breasts

     “Yeah?”

     “Yes. Please, Min.”

     “My pretty kitty needs the grim reapers come in her that bad?” His face picked up a bit, thrusting into her a bit faster as one hand came between their bodies and rubbed figure eights into her clit

     “Fuck yes! Please Minho.”

     “I got you kitten. Need you to come for me first. Come on, baby.”

     Minho's tongue played with her hard nipples as her legs tightened around his waist. Her hands tangled in his hair and held on tighter the closer she got. Her walls closed in tighter around him, making it harder for him to move but neither cared. It felt too good at the moment. 

    Her orgasm hit her like a train. Her back arched off the floor before her body went limp, convulsing under him as he chased his high. Only slowing down when his high finally hit. 

     Exhaustion didn't hit him. It never would, even though he was injured. “Fuck,” he groaned

     “You okay?” she asked as she calmed down

     “Yeah. Don't think being on top was a good idea though.”

     “If you wanted me on too there's better ways to ask,” Y/n giggled as he pulled out and sat back against the couch. 

     Y/n sat up a few seconds later, climbing onto his lap and cuddling into him. “Is it weird I'm in love with the grim reaper?”

     “Is it weird just fucked a soul I was supposed to cross over?”

     Both laughed at the questions before Y/n looked up at him. “What are we now?”

     “Soul mates.” Minho smiled

     Y/n glares at him as he laughed at his joke. “That was terrible.”

     “You love me though.”

     “I gue—” Y/n stopped when she felt something weird in her chest.

     “Hey, what's wrong?” Minho asked, very alert now

     “Weird pain,” Y/n whined as it came again

     “They’re trying to revive you…” 

     “What? No!” He’d never seen a soul fry real tears like he did now

     “I can’t stop it.” All he could do was watch, as much as he didn't want too

     “Why? You can do anything.”

     “You’re in limbo kitten. It’d be different if crossed over already. I can’t do anything if you're in limbo…”

     “What if I cross over?”

     “It’s too late…” 

     Minho watched her become more and more transparent as they pulled her back to the living.

     “Please, Min. I don't want to go back…”

     “I’ll be there when you die again, okay? I promise.”

     He knew how it felt for humans when they watched someone they loved die. He’d see them cry over the dead. Having Y/n pulled from him back to life was just like that. But he could wait. 

     He found her in a hospital, waiting in her room. Occasionally leaving when he sensed someone pass and brought them over before going back and watching her. Even when she slept. Hoping she felt his presence or saw him. 

     “Until death, kitten.” He stood by her bedside watching her sleep.

☾ ━━━━━━ M.LIST    TIP JAR

☾ ━━━ please support writers by reblogging and/or leaving feedback

© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[munariplans]

hi there! hope ur doing well. i love ur writing and have been wondering if you could do a story about reader disappearing on the teams day off. natasha who has a crush on reader notices and spys on reader to see if she’s meeting up with someone. instead it’s just reader being a good person and helping people along the way. making natasha fall in love with her even more.

days off | natasha romanoff

synopsis: based on the request above! thank you anon for your submission :)

natasha romanoff x reader

word count: 3.3k words

a/n: requests and asks are always open

masterlist

“what are you doing?” natasha asked you shyly, her figure leaning against the frame of the kitchen entrance. she watched your hands skilfully kneading the dough on the counter over and over again, folded into a neat rectangle before being flattened and folded again in the next moment. behind you, pans were sizzling with the mouth-watering fragrance of scrambled eggs being cooked on the stove, and the oven let out a ding right as she stepped closer, telling you that it was preheated and ready. 

you let the dough rest, before putting a pre-prepared one in the oven and finally turning to her. “making breakfast,” you said, matter-of-factly, “for the team.”

“but it’s our off-day,” she replied, “and we have chefs in the compound.”

you smiled. “well, i just thought it would be nice to have something homemade, for once. my mother taught me how to cook, and i figured i’d spend the morning of the day-off in the kitchen, where i’ll be busy, and…the thoughts wouldn’t be so loud.”

natasha folded her arms over herself as you came closer. you noticed she had just come back from the gym. she probably hadn’t had anything to eat. 

carefully slicing the freshly baked bread into halves, you took a pair out of the perfect symmetry and placed them on the plate, before ladling a helping of the scrambled eggs, taking a few pieces of bacon out of the other pan, and placing a piece of hash brown right on top, before covering it with the other half of the bread. she watched you work, methodically, seamlessly. you looked like you had been doing it for years. 

then, you wrapped the sandwich quickly, and wrote her initials, N.R. with a smiley on top of the wrapper, before handing it to her. she was taken aback, and slightly red when she looked at the sandwich being offered to her. 

“i-it’s…” she stuttered, heart beating quickly when she realised she hadn’t exactly taken the sandwich, but hadn’t rejected your offer, either. 

“i want you to be my first taster. if it’s good, i’ll call the team down to have it as well. and if it’s bad…” you shrugged, half-laughing in anticipation as natasha finally took it, taking a small bite in front of you.

she took a moment to chew, face in contemplation, as if she were assessing a fine dining establishment before you. you began taking off your apron, deciding to let the chefs help you take over for the serving of the food later on, and started packing your things. 

just before you left, however, you noticed natasha fully into the entryway of the kitchen again, sandwich half-eaten.

“it’s okay,” she said nonchalantly, wiping a little bit off the ends of her lips. “it’s edible.”

you nodded, hiding a smile. “okay means good. i’ll tell the team to come down, then.”

natasha shrugged this time, as if saying if that’s what you want. when you left to shower, however, she smiled quietly to herself, and after making sure that no one was around, did a little happy dance from one of the most delicious sandwiches she had ever eaten. it was more than okay, it was the best breakfast she had ever had. she only wished she had the courage to tell you so. 

the redhead then tore the part of your handwriting of her initials off the wrapper, and kept it in her pocket for the rest of the day.

–

natasha never really knew what to do on her day-offs. it felt weird, to be sitting around doing nothing. she could do her remaining paperwork, but she knew if tony caught her, he would ban her from working on it at all for a week, leaving her even more bored and restless. 

she could sleep in, or explore new york for the day, but she wasn’t fully confident that her russian accent wouldn’t throw the average new yorker off yet. it also didn’t help that ever since her joining the avengers, there was always someone around the block who recognised who she was, who let their eyes rake over her figure for far too long, who made her feel uncomfortable when they got too close to ask for a picture. the others never seemed to mind, but she did. 

she noticed you always seemed to step in when it got too much; telling the fans that enough was enough, or simply holding her waist and slowly whisking her away from their prying eyes and grubby hands. she threw her head back onto her pillow at the thought of your hands on her waist again. natasha seriously needed to stop thinking about you, and her festering crush, whenever she had the opportunity. she needed to busy herself. 

but when you appeared in the commons right as she stepped out of her room to ask what you planned to do on your day-off, you were in your coat and scarf, prepared to head out. the rest of the team was still lazily lounging around the area, in a dazed state from the aftermath of your coma-inducing breakfast. 

“where are you going?” she asked, not wanting to pry too much, but still allowing herself to feed her own curiosity. 

she hated that you always replied with a tone that seemed like it was painfully obvious what you were doing. “out.”

“i know, but–”

“hey romanoff, are you still coming for the basketball game later? steve needs to book the seats.” tony called out to her before she could finish the sentence. he asked you too, but you reaffirmed with him that you weren’t coming. 

you shifted your scarf slightly, turning your attention back to her. “you ever been to a basketball game before? you’ll like it. the warriors are something else.”

natasha shook her head. you knew she had never been. but it didn’t mean that she wanted to go, not without you around. but she also didn’t have the courage to ask if she could tag along to wherever you were going. she knew her limits.

you didn’t seem to take the hint of her wanting to come along, despite her readily asking if you were going to meet someone, or if you were just going out alone, and if you had plans for after. you simply waved her goodbye, and told her to enjoy the game with the team. 

she sighed in irritation when you left, much to the amusement of clint behind her. “does she have a girlfriend or something? is that what she’s using her day-offs for?”

if clint wasn’t already hiding his grin, his friend’s newfound annoyance at your departure definitely made him let out a chuckle. “not that i know of.”

natasha didn’t have much to do that day, and it wasn’t like she was particularly looking forward to the game either, so she decided to spend her day-off the only way she knew how, using her spying skills and finding out what you were doing with yours.

–

in retrospect, natasha knew that you probably wouldn’t have liked being stalked, or followed around without her telling you why, or even simply her not taking the initiative to just ask, when you would have told her willingly of what you spent your breaks on.

she followed you into the university uptown, where natasha knew you guest-lectured in between longer breaks from missions. she just never expected you to come in on your days-off as well. 

you tapped your card in to the science department of the school, while natasha snuck past the security guard after causing a well-crafted distraction. when you entered the lockers to change into your lab coat, natasha waited patiently outside like a schoolgirl hiding from their crush. she supposed she wasn’t so different from one then.

it was only when you walked down the halls into a room guarded by a facial recognition scan, that natasha finally got to know that she a) wasn’t being so discreet after all, or b) you were a better agent than you let on to her. she should have known that you didn’t get promoted through the ranks so fast, so young, without reasons. 

the machine scanned your face, and as the door unlocked, you stood there for a moment, holding it wide open, before leaning your head to the side, one eye locked with hers. 

“do you want to come in and see as well, or do you plan on just waiting for me until i finish?”

if clint had seen the embarrassment on her face, along with the walk of shame she had to put on to enter the room with you, he would have certainly made her the laughing stock of the compound for the day. 

–

you drew up a chair for natasha as you went to your usual work station, a little early for your patient. in the few minutes that the two of you were alone, you hadn’t engaged her at all, simply directing her to sit and watch, while you prepared your materials and waited for your lab assistant. natasha was a little unnerved, and in awe at your professionalism, at the same time. 

you clicked your tongue in slight annoyance as your assistant came in five minutes late, reminding him, almost naggingly, that you only had one day-off per week, and it was precious time that he was wasting for the both of you. he apologised, and got to work helping you set up what looked like a robotic prosthetic leg, on your station. 

the lab was pristine; white-tiled walls and floors scrubbed clean with a very strong stench of antiseptic ensuring to even the most sceptic of minds that you knew what you were doing, and that the lab was clean; if the multiple diagrams of your inventions on the walls and the prototypes lining the shelves around her were not enough proof. you had never told her you had a lab.

a few minutes later, two knocks on the door were heard, and your assistant rushed over to open the door for a man no younger than seventy, hobbling in with great difficulty as he tried to offer help with his support, only to be rejected with a wave of his hand and an upbeat smile. he was an amputee. 

oh. this was what your days-off were for. 

“hello, mr. miller. you look cheerful today.” you got up from your seat to shake his hand. he took your support this time, leading himself to the plush armchair placed across your station. 

he laughed, rough and loud. “david, how many times have i come in here and asked you to call me?”

you smiled sheepishly. “sorry, david. let me help you with this.”

he winced as you kneeled down beside him, outstretching his prosthetic leg and inspecting it. your assistant took notes as you made observations of the various deficiencies and defects it suffered through david’s use of it for the past six months. natasha watched as your hands, the ones that would hold her at night when she cried, the ones that punched the faces of enemies trying to get to her, the very same hands that made her breakfast that morning, ran over the intricate details and bolts and nuts of the prosthetic leg she learned you made just for david, knowing what was wrong just by the feel and touch of them. she adored those hands so much. 

then, you helped him take off the prosthetic, instructing your assistant to hold his hand in encouragement as he winced at the removal. “there we go. wasn’t so bad this time, right? and the leg did hold up quite well, for six months.”

“well, you do maintenance to it every week,” david patted your back, “hard to fuck it up so bad when you fix it up every time i try to, right?”

you laughed, and natasha stopped herself from smiling. at your signal, the assistant brought forth the limb that you both had been working on to replace david’s old one for the past year, shiny and new. the man positively gleamed at the sight of it. 

“ready for a bit of a change, though, mr. miller?”

“now, that is a beauty,” he said as his eyes latched on, before they inevitably noticed natasha sat at the corner of where the limb was, and she swore he held recognition for her instantly. 

you followed his gaze, before his met yours, and the playful smirk he let out was all that you needed to know that he knew. “is that your…”

“...friend, natasha,” you replied him quickly, eyes slightly panicked and subtly, not so subtly, shaking your head to ask him to stop before he let out your little secret. 

“is she the one–”

“–yes, david. she’s the one.” 

he finally caught the hint, and chuckled to himself as he waved hi to her. she waved back, no doubt in confusion of the connection between him and her. she made a mental note to ask you about it later. 

–

when the new leg was fitted on him, david was practically almost jumping for joy at the new flexibility and strength it gave him. his laughter was infectious, as natasha quickly learned, when it caught up to her after it caught you and the assistant, as well. 

“look at the reflexes! and fluidity of this thing!” no longer was he hobbling and exerting his entire strength on the one leg, it was almost as if the leg was natural and part of him itself, as david brought you in for a hug enthusiastically. 

you hugged him back, still grinning. “amazing right, what science can do for you. soon, the future of prosthetics is going to change, and we can make so many more lives better in our community.”

“you two are amazing, simply amazing!” david exclaimed, even as he finally accepted the assistant’s help in testing out the other features of the prosthetic. 

–

natasha stayed until the end of the day for you, when david’s tests were complete and he was all but ready to leave. 

“and to what i owe you this time, again?” he asked. you knew he didn’t have much, it was the sole reason you took him on for the project; but the fact that he remained so grateful, always offering payment, even when you had repeatedly rejected him, always touched you. 

“for you to come back next week, as always. and to thank mr. parker here for all his efforts. i couldn’t have done all this without him.” 

your assistant looked like he was going to cry at the recognition and hug david gave him. “doing a good job, kid.”

you held the door open for david then, and he stole one last glance at natasha before he left. “you know, your girlfriend here really is a genius, ms. black widow. the best of her–”

“–thank you, david!” you cut in, visibly more in a panic this time, as you held his hand and ushered him out, “just a friend, a friend!”

“what?” he didn’t seem keen to leave, “i’m just helping the two of you speed things along. god knows she wouldn’t have stayed here in this boring lab all day, running tests on an old war veteran running his mouth, if she wasn’t smitten with you too!”

natasha’s cheeks instantly reddened, as you sighed in embarrassment. so maybe her feelings were reciprocated, for a while now. 

with the assistant chuckling in the background, you shut the door ushering david out, whispering frustratedly that he was leaking all of your secrets about natasha. “david! i told you and peter about her in confidence!”

“i know, but you didn’t tell me she was head over heels for you too.”

“because she’s not!” you whisper-yelled, “she came just to see what i was doing, and…and…”

and…oh. 

david’s look made sense now. it all made sense now. her shyness around you, the way she always wanted you around, always wanted to know what you were doing, the reasons for her coming all this way to accompany you on your day-off. 

you had thought she wouldn’t be interested, and would leave after seeing what your activities just were, but you hadn’t expected her to stay. and you hadn’t expected to feel her gaze on you throughout. 

“when you know, you know.” he assured, patting you on the back again as he walked off, “trust me, kid. and she’s a good one, you picked a good one.”

–

your assistant had retreated to his corner of the lab when you came back in, while natasha stretched her joints and got ready to leave too. it was dark by then, and you felt guilty for making her stay past dinner. you excused your assistant to leave quickly, before finally turning to her. 

“sorry.”

“for what?” she yawned. 

“for trapping you here with me on your day-off. i feel guilty now.”

she rolled her eyes, before jabbing you slightly. “idiot. i stayed because i wanted to stay. and you didn’t force me here, in fact, i was the one who followed you, remember?”

“yeah, you do need to make sure that the person you’re stalking isn’t a super spy like you before you do that, though.”

at the blush on her cheeks and feigned hurt on her face, you quickly decided to change the subject. “what david said earlier…ignore him. he’s old, a little senile. really doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“really?” natasha frowned, “that’s a shame.”

you nodded, biting your lip as you leaned back against the counter of your station. she continued, “i really wanted what he said to be true.”

you blinked in surprise, unable to hide the shock on your face. it was your turn to be nervous around natasha now. it was always the other way around. perhaps the knowledge of knowing your feelings were mutual beckoned you to retreat to a shy disposition you never showed anyone else. 

natasha shrugged. “damn, i really thought i had a chance with the most wonderful, kind-hearted person i know, who would spend her days off, even, to help people. who i thought was hiding to meet a secret girlfriend or something.”

a smile began to creep its way onto your face. “n-no, no secret girlfriend.”

“shame. i bet that secret girlfriend would be so in awe, falling even more for this person, when she finds out what she does for the people around her. a superhero saving the lives of many as an avenger, and a scientist changing the lives of even more as a civilian.”

“mm,” you took off your lab coat then, coming closer to her. she had a playful glint in her eyes as she put one hand on your chest, preventing you from getting too close. “tell me more praises of what this secret girlfriend would feel about me.”

“this secret girlfriend also does not appreciate when you keep such lovely secrets from her,” she felt your arms on the counter behind her now, entrapping her body with yours, “and when you try to do anything without taking her to dinner first. she’s starving, you know.”

the chuckle that left your lips made natasha only want to kiss you even more. “what do you say i make this secret girlfriend not-so-secret now, and invite her out to dinner with me? her favourite italian down the street from here, my treat.”

in response, the woman before you finally let go of the hand on your chest, and brought her hands to your collar to pull you in, leaving a searing kiss on your lips that left you lightheaded and longing for more, at the same time. 

she held your hand as the both of you walked out of the university, before declaring something she had to say before she forgot, “tell david he should expect to see me around the lab every week from now on too, then.” 

“yes ma’am.”