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#cause I don’t want to leave the comfort of this place
honeipie · 2 days
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THE INTERVIEW
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katsuki x reader
synopsis: katsuki won’t do interviews for anyone. well, anyone that isn’t you.
this is part two of the first hockey boys katsuki post which you can find here
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after the interaction at the bar, you and katsuki had been seeing more and more of each other, not only on a professional level, but a personal one as well. in public he'd answer your questions dead last during the press conferences, but you waited each time. knowing that when it was over he wouldn’t leave your side at that bar.
it didn’t take long for the two of you to start dating. you knew you liked him, and he liked you.
the two of you never made your relationship known to the public, due to the small fear you had of it interfering with your job. katsuki never minded, as long as you came home with him at the end of the day he wasn't going to complain.
so five months later here you were, in bed with one of the best hockey players in the league, trying to escape his need to cuddle.
buzz. buzz. buzz.
"get your damn phone will ya?" katsuki mumbled, pressing his eyes shut. you let out a long sigh eyes opening slowly.
"i would if you weren't holding me down like a damn paperweight" he only grumbled loosening his arm around your torso. you couldn’t help but giggle picking up the phone.
“don’t worry my baby. i’ll make it up to you”
“shut up” this made him fully let go and turn his body around. you couldn’t help but fully burst out in laughter at his dramatics before you answered your phone.
“hello?” you rubbed off the sleep that still clouded your eyes.
“y/n, sorry to call you this early but we’re going to need to have a meeting quickly. i hope you don’t mind”
you contained the groan you wanted to let out and opted for a small sigh instead “i’ll be there in an hour” hanging up you turned back to your boyfriend placing your chin in his shoulder.
“i gotta go to work kats”
he grumbled something before turning around to fully face you “this is the one day i don’t gotta go to practice and now they’re callin’ you in? what the hell?”
“i know it sucks, but i’ll be back as soon as possible ‘kay? it’s just a meeting then i should be done” you pulled him in for a kiss which he sleepily returned.
“ugh your breath-“
“shut the fuck up”
even through your teasing he couldn’t help but smirk a little. you got out of the bed opening up his closet. he had opened up a space for you knowing that you might have to get up and go. you picked out something that was comfortable, but still work appropriate. you didn’t plan on staying long anyways.
by the time you exited the closet you were quickly putting on lipstick and looking in the nearest mirror you could find. at this point, katsuki had gotten up and made his way over to you.
“you look nice”
he placed kisses at the crook of your neck, which you were trying not let get to you. cause if you did you would not be getting to work.
“thanks!” you put some earrings in trying not to tilt your head too much where he could have more leverage over you. once they were in you turned around making his head snap back up “i will be back. please remind me cause you know how i could stay there for hours” cupping his cheeks you pulled him in for one last kiss which left a lipstick stain, but you weren’t going to be the one to tell him that.
when you arrived at the station you said your casual hello’s before making your way into one of the conference rooms. luckily, there was already a coffee sitting there waiting for you. ever since you had drawn more attention for the station you’ve been getting some more positive attention.
“hello sir” you greeted your boss with a smile going to sit down across from him. he smiled back at you his teeth practically shining from all the whitening his does.
“there she is! sorry for calling you in on such short notice. i know you probably have errands to attend to" you only shrugged going to take a sip of your coffee "the reason i called you up is because we need something big. we've been getting attention from the players and that's good, but the season is almost over, and we can't just rely on those press conferences anymore. we need something bigger. remember those locker room interviews i was talking about? i was wondering if you could score one with any of the teammates. if you could pull it off, do it with bakugo. he seems to do strangely well with you"
your eyes flit up to meet his. you thought that you could get away with the press conferences for at least the rest of the season. katsuki and you never really delved too dead into work conversation. you'd always hit him with the little 'how was work' and his response never failed, 'y/n you were there'. that was all you would really do. you didn't want him to think that you were with him just to get information out of him, so you never said much about what your boss asked you to do.
"that should be okay with you right? i mean you are our star reporter"
clearing your throat you nodded "i should be able to pull something through. is this all? not to be rude, but i do have some plans for the rest of the day"
he shook his head standing up from his chair "that's all i got for ya" he walked over to give your hand a firm shake "thanks for being so cooperative. shoot me an email when you've got something" with that, he was out of the door.
your keys clanged against the ceramic bowl you made on one of you and katsuki's date nights. he had made one too, you just use it to keep your rings in. katsuki stood in the kitchen already starting prep on some dinner for later. you slipped off your shoes going over to stand next to him.
"how was your meeting?" he asked using a knife to scrape vegetables into a bowl. all you could do was shrug and hop onto the island counter.
"it was okay" you watched as his back muscles flexed along with his movements. katsuki was good on the ice for sure, but in the kitchen? it was like everything he touched was approved by God himself. after he had made your favorite meal after a long day you had never gone back to cooking yourself.
katsuki finished with the last of the vegetables before walking over to you. both hands rested by your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist bringing him closer “hello handsome” you went to lean in but to your surprise he dodged.
he must’ve noticed the offended look that crossed your face “tell me what’s up”
“nothing is up! i just wanted a kiss!”
“don’t lie to me. i just can tell something is wrong. don’t ask how, just tell me so i can help. don’t want you moping around the house bringin’ the mood down”
“weird way of saying you care” your fingers went up to play with some of his hair.
“i do care. that’s why i’m asking”
a small pout formed on your lips as you thought “i don’t want this to ruin what we have. i don’t want you to think im using you or anything, cause i’m not. i love you kat,” if you being upset before didn’t concern him enough this definitely did “my boss is asking me to get a locker room interview with someone on the team-“
“i’ll do it”
it was so quick you could’ve missed it. he didn’t look upset, or even angry. katsuki just shrugged as if it was an every day occurrence. as if he doesn’t brush off every single one on one interview there is. no, you’ve seriously seen him delete the emails before even opening them. fucking spam is what he calls them.
your eyebrows furrowed together at his words “you’re- you’re sure about this?”
“yeah why not. you’re definitely the one doing the interview right? plus if you don’t want it to be with me i’ll force one of the other extras to do it. they fuckin’ love the attention.. was that it?”
“i’ll be doing the interview for sure, and that was it”
he leaned down finally giving you the kiss you wanted along with a small ‘love you’ at the very end.
when he kissed you, there was an unusual feeling on his bottom lip. pulling away you put your thumb over his lip feeling out the bump.
"what the fuck? do you have herpes or some shit?"
katsuki pulled away with an offended expression "no i don't have fuckin' herpes! and if i did, i would've gotten it from your dumbass!"
"well i don't have herpes so where did the herpes bump come from?"
"stop calling it that!"
your stomach was hurting from laughter and katsuki was trying not to give in to your stupid jokes "i got it from that game yesterday. it's starting to swell up a bit" you tilted your head letting your thumb graze over it again.
"babe, you've gotta stop fighting. i don't want to mistake you for having STDs again-"
"is this your weird way of saying you care?"
"i do care"
the two of you stared at each other for a good minute, neither backing down until he let out a huff "fine. can't believe you're doin' this to me" he grumbled going to walk away into the bedroom “come get into some more comfortable clothes. i want to lay down to make up for this morning"
katsuki had a game the next day, so of course you sat right behind the bench where the team sat. it was a close match the whole game. tensions were high between both of the teams, and everyone could feel it. all throughout there was one player on the other team that was really pissing katsuki off, and you could tell from where you were sitting. the way he would skate quickly away from him every time he would get close. the way he would make the whole bench shake every time he sat down in rotations.
there was no physical contact made from either side. not until katsuki scored a goal for his team which must've aggravated the other enough to the point of bodychecking katsuki, hard.
the crowd egged the players actions on with ‘oooohs’ and ‘oh shits!’
now katsuki was livid. you could see him doing a quick turn around to face the player again, but suddenly stopped himself.
katsuki shook his head, and skated away.
the whole crowed murmured in confusion, the player who instigated it was confused. hell, you were even confused.
the day katsuki bakugou refused a fight has finally come.
after the game had finished, and everyone cleared out of the locker room, the station got it set up for the interview. you had taken katsuki into the coach’s office to explain how it was going to go down “so it’s not like a regular locker room interview. it’s going to be like a podcast episode. people eat those up nowadays so this is gonna be good-“
“hm” he was half listening to whatever you were saying. his face was buried in your neck and hands pulled you in by your waist. the blinds were closed and the door was shut, so there was a fifty-fifty chance you could’ve gotten caught, and he was willing to take it.
you decided explaining any more would be useless. all of it going through one ear and out the other. so you moved your hands up the back of his shirt making him shiver slightly “you did good today. i saw your goals”
“thanks baby” he whispered back placing soft kisses along your neck “we can go home after this right?”
“right after, then take a hot bath”
“then let’s get this over with” hesitantly, he pulled away from you going to open the door. you could tell how the game wore him out by how his shoulders sagged slightly, and his hair was a mess. hand going to his shoulder you stopped him “hey, we can do this another day”
he shook his head grabbing one of his baseball caps “nah i’m fine. turn this shit on” nodding you got into you seat. he settled into his but couldn’t help but watched as you fixed your appearance looking into one of the screens nearby. fixing your lipstick because he accidentally smeared it from the after game kiss. the way you straightened out your clothes because of the way he relaxed onto you like a pillow. he loved seeing the evidence of his love all over you, even if nobody knew.
man, he was starting to regret agreeing to keeping this secret.
“are you ready mr. bakugo?” you asked as if you didn’t even know him.
“yeah ‘m ready”
the interview was going smoothly for the most part. you asked him questions and he either gave you one of his famous snarky remarks, or an actual thought out answer. the topic of conversation had turned onto the events of today’s game, and you had questions already lined up in your head.
“so mr. bakugo you had a good game today with you and your teammates pulling in yet another victory. though i’m sure everyone is wondering why you didn’t involve yourself in the fight today. i mean that player was being pretty hostile”
katsuki shrugged pulling the mic away from his mouth a bit “my girl doesn’t like when i fight”
your eyebrow raised at his statement. the team behind the cameras ears perked up at the new information.
“your girl? you- you have a girlfriend?”
his eyes flit up to yours trying to contain his budding smirk “yeah i do. congratulations, you’re the first people to publicly know. other than the team”
“if you don’t mind me asking. how long have you and your girlfriend been together?”
“almost six months”
“so almost half a year. she must have something special if she could tie you down”
both of you were now smiling at each other. it wasn’t shocking that you were smiling, but katsuki? hell must’ve frozen over.
“yeah she’s special as hell, and pretty. might put a ring on her finger one of these days if that’s what she wants” he adjusted the mic once more “people might say that’s quick, but i say when you know you know. why waste time?”
you had choked on your spit causing a coughing fit. katsuki covered his face to hide the fact that he was chuckling at your misfortune. once you pulled yourself together you shook your head “i’m sorry about that. i don’t know what happened”
“don’t worry about it”
“well thank you so much mr. bakugo for doing this interview with us. you’ve been amazing”
he mumbled out a ‘you’re welcome’ before the cameras stopped rolling. you got up quickly making sure the crew had everything they needed before you made your way outside. both you and katsuki had driven your own cars here so you would simply meet him at home.
by the time he had gotten there you had already run the bath and gotten in. you could hear the soft pats of his clothes hitting the floor as he made his way into the bathroom. carefully, he slipped into the tub behind you, muscles instantly relaxing. the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while. just basking in the warmth of the tub.
“you’re good at your job”
“thanks” you looked over your shoulder to see that his head was tilted back. his adam’s apple bobbed a little because of your movements.
“whatcha starin’ at me for?”
“cause your pretty. and i want to know if you meant what you said”
his one eye opened to look over at you “what did i say?”
katsuki knew what he said. he just wanted to be able to hear his words become yours.
“that you wanted to marry me”
he closed his eye again moving his arms to wrap around your body. they pulled you close with ease enveloping you in more warmth.
“i meant every fuckin’ word”
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@v4mp3r
@yeehawgiddyup13
@b134ch-m4h-ey3z
@liluvtojineteyam
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alpydk · 2 days
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To @auroraesmeraldarose - I said I would write something romantic for you so here it is. With only a sprinkling of angst (because I just can't help it) - I present to you:
The List.
Romance/Angst/Mostly comfort (I hope) - 1397 words Gale x Tav (They/Them no description) - SFW
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Gale had watched for some time how Tav had scribbled on the notepad before gazing into the campfire as if searching for the answers buried in the ashes. Their head would lift only to fall again, a word being written, then erased. It reminded him of his own days with a mostly drunk glass of red wine and a quill in hand, trying to come up with the next line of poetry that cause the lover to fall to their knees for him.
He slowly approached, his heart increasing its pace with the apprehension of what was to come. He enjoyed Tav’s company, always feeling he was learning something new. Being seen for who I am. Tav was a good person, one that had helped, listened to everyone, cared more than anyone he had ever met before, and despite the more pronounced ache he felt whenever he was near them, he fought through it for the quiet moments alone with them. He remembered the night channelling the weave, the way their hands had brushed up against one another, the way he had felt their longing, and the image of a tender kiss placed on his lips. Is this love? No, not for me. It can’t be.  
He swallowed nervously before he spoke. “My friend, may I ask what it is you are writing?”
Tav jumped a little, surprised by Gale’s sudden words, and placed the paper face down onto their lap. “This? Nothing… nothing at all.”
Gale nodded his head and took a small step back, trying not to acknowledge the feeling of rejection that was surfacing beneath his pleasant expression. “Ah, my apologies then. I will leave you to your thoughts.” He turned to go back to his tent as he heard the hesitant voice behind him.
“No…” Tav pushed their hair back and relaxed their shoulders. “Join me, please.”
Gale tried to hide his enthusiasm at this simple gesture. He was aware his year alone had made him too eager for basic conversation and he’d now got into a habit of remaining distant with people. Part of him was aware his social skills had diminished, and another part didn’t want him to form connections based on his own dwindling condition. He placed himself next to Tav, keeping a respectable distance and ignoring the dull thrum of the orb excited at the prospects.
Tav lowered their head, a soft smile masked by the focus of turning over the pages and looking at the cluttered mess on the paper. “I don’t think you would want to help me so much if you knew what it was I was writing.”
Gale placed a comforting hand on Tav’s arm, feeling the delicate cotton of the shirt under his palm. Warmth rose in his cheeks, and he silently cursed his body for betraying him. A glade of calm and tranquillity. “Well, let me be the one to decide upon that. As you know, I’m quite the connoisseur of the literary arts. Even Volo’s poetry has not turned me away from reading or writing.”
Tav chuckled at his response. “You know how tomorrow we are going to the Goblin Camp? There’s a real chance we might not…” They danced around the words, trying not to appear insensitive but ultimately giving up. “We might die.”
“Hm.” Gale understood perfectly why Tav was struggling and why they hadn’t initially wanted to discuss this with him. Talking about potential death with someone destined to die was not the easiest of conversations to have. How could they even relate to his situation? “So, you are writing your last wishes, I assume?”
Tav wordlessly handed over the paper and Gale held it towards the firelight, trying to make out the scrawl in front of him. The handwriting was unique to say the least, but the out of context words made it all even more peculiar. Stars…. Hollyphant…. Falling… “Tav, I may be able to decipher some of the most ancient of texts, but I must say, this has me baffled.”
Their voice was quiet as they replied, embarrassed by the list that lay between them. “It’s a bucket list.”
“But my dear, I have little doubt that you will survive the days to come. Why create something like this?” A small part of him felt heartbroken to even think of Tav’s death as imminent and yet a part of him was curious. What dreams lay in his friend’s mind? Could any of them ever hold a small place for me?
“I wish I had your optimism. No, I’m making it because all this-“ They gestured to their head, the tadpole writhing within. “-It just reminds me that life isn’t as long as it was before. That each day moments go by that I should have seized. From the big things, like travelling and love…” They looked over at him with a softness in their eyes that made him wish he could just kiss them there and then. “…To the little things, like watching the stars at night, or giving a gift to a friend.”
Gale looked curiously at the list, trying to make out more of the words. Falling in… “You’ve done none of these things before?”
Tav shook their head. “Time just seems to escape me. We have so few stars in the city and if I’m honest, I’ve never had many friends.”
“Hm, that I can unfortunately relate to. Might I offer a suggestion, though?” He moved closer to them, his heart thumping, his mind rushing through various scenarios over various outcomes. Kiss them. It’s too soon. Wind your fingers in between theirs. Hold them and never let go. Love them. Falling in love…
“And what might that be? Compare notes? I can assure you; my list will be longer and more pathetic.”
He placed his hand over theirs, trying to act casual and not bring attention to the vulnerable state he was putting his body in at this moment; the orb screaming into his system at the proximity of another person after so long. “No, my dear, let me have the list. Think of it as a gift, a puzzle that I can work on during the long nights. And from there, maybe I can assist you with the rest of your wishes.”
Tav smiled, scratching off a line from the paper. “I guess that makes it one wish fulfilled, then.”
Gazing at each other, they both seemed to become lost in one another’s eyes, an unknown energy pulling them together that neither wanted to fight against. Tav brought their hand to Gale’s face, both coming together wishing to make the previously imagined kiss a reality. He could feel the heat of Tav’s breath upon his lips, smell the earth and pine from their clothes, and in that moment, he wanted them. He wanted nothing more than to feel those lips upon his and lose himself in them.
It started with a pinching in his hand but slowly grew; the orb letting both be aware of its presence and Gale was forced to pull himself back, attempting to make his body relax from the tension. He looked at Tav, his deep brown eyes apologetic, a feeling as if he had been misleading them. I’m sorry for what I am.
Tav brought their hand away as Gale had flinched backwards in clear pain. “Are you okay?”
“Do not concern yourself with me. It’s just with my condition…” He sighed deeply, wishing it didn’t have to be this way.
“I understand.”
Tav pulled themselves close to him, so they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, still touching, but no longer as intimately. He gazed at them as they looked up towards the sky, and he traced the line of their neck up to their jaw, imagining gentle kisses being placed and their hair draped over his face as he nuzzled into them.
“I suppose this is another I can cross off already.”
Gale drew his attention from his friend, instead following their line-of-sight upwards. The sky was clear of clouds, allowing the stars to shine down on them brightly and they sat for some time in silence, enjoying the quiet moment together.
Eventually, sleep beckoned and Tav retired to their tent, leaving Gale alone under the night sky with his thoughts. I could create stars like this for you… I would become a star for you.
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sicktember · 2 days
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2024 FAQs
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(Since tumblr mobile isn't exactly known for its reliability regarding links at the top of the blog.) We made an updated text post of the event's FAQs. There have been no major changes. We just wanted a text post that reflected the Sicktember 2024 event information.
Sicktember 2023-2021 Past Prompts Text Post [Link]
* What is Sicktember?
-Sicktember is a fan-run,  September-long hurt/comfort prompt event focused on sick characters and their caregivers.
* What fandoms can participate?
- Every fandom is welcome to participate, including Original Characters and Original Works!
* When does Sicktember begin?
-The idea is to have a prompt a day for the entire month of September, but that’s more of a guideline than an actual rule.
* Do I have to write all 30 prompts in order to participate?
- Not at all! Don’t feel pressured into writing all 30 prompts. You can write as few or as many as you want. This list is meant to spark inspiration, not cause any undue stress.
* Do I have to write all of the prompts separately or can I combine them?
- You can write all of the prompts in one continuous fic, write them all separately or combine a handful at a time. Do what works for you!  Just, please, specify which prompts inspired your work.
* Do I have to write the prompts in order?
-No. You can write them in whatever order you’d like, but again, please identify which prompts your work is based on.
* Can I combine with prompts from other events?
-As long as the other events you’re participating in are okay with it, so are we! Combine all you’d like!
* I don’t write but I can draw. Can I participate?
-Yes! All types of content creators are welcome to join in the fun.
* What if I don’t finish the prompts by the end of September?
- No problem! Take your time and create at your own pace!  There’s no rush. But also keep in mind that you are not obligated to fill each and every prompt.
* Are there any restrictions?
- There are only two major restrictions. No sexually explicit material and no illegal or non-consensual relationships.
    - No explicit descriptions of sexual encounters (smut/erotica/pornography)
           - Innuendo and passing mentions of sexual encounters are okay. 
    -No romantic relationships between adults and minors, relationships that are incestuous, and/or relationships that are stockholm syndrome based.
            - As a hurt/comfort-focused event, we would like to keep the main focus of this particular event on the sick character and their caregiver/caretaker
 -This also allows us to leave this event open to a broader range of participants.
*What if I want to use one of the prompts to write something that doesn’t fit within the event rules?
 - We understand that inspiration comes from many places and we certainly aren’t here to tell you what you should and shouldn’t write.
 - If your prompt-inspired content is outside of the event’s restrictions, then it is no longer for the event, and it should not be associated with it. At that point, your content is for you, and all of the people who would enjoy it!
     - In this situation, we ask that you please do not use the event tags, submit the content to the blog, or enter the content into the AO3 collection.
*Can dark themes, character death and/or swearing be included in my content?
- there are no rules against the use of heavy subjects or character death or swearing
-All we ask is that you tag your content appropriately so that readers can decide whether or not that’s the kind of content they want to read.
*There aren’t enough alternate prompts for me. Can you add more? Can I add my own?
- If you need additional alternate prompts let us know! We would be happy to discuss the potentiality of adding one or two more if the need to do so becomes apparent.
-You are also welcome to suggest an additional alternate prompt if you have an idea of what you would like to use. However, there is no guarantee that it will be added to the official list.
-But also, please keep in mind that you are not obligated to write thirty prompts. If you find that there are only a few or perhaps only a single prompt on the list that you’re comfortable working with, then that is absolutely fine! No pressure!
* Once the event begins, will projects be collected anywhere?
- Authors who post their work on the Archive of Our Own (AO3) website are welcome and encouraged to add their work to the collection, ‘Sicktember 2024’ 
- Content Creators who post or cross-post on Tumblr are encouraged to use the tag #sicktember 2024 so that others can find and enjoy their work.
*How do I post my work to the collection on Archive of Our Own (AO3)?
-When you create a draft or edit your work, there is a section titled [Associations]
-In the section, you will find a text box labeled [Post to Collections/Challenges]  
-That is where you will type,  Sicktember_2024  (It should auto-fill for you to make a selection. However if it doesn’t, you can type the name of the collection into the bar- exactly as you see it here- and it will still post appropriately.) 
- You can also post to the collection by using the ‘post collection’ button on the top right corner of the Sicktember_2024 collection’s page. 
*Keep in mind that (a) the collection will not be open until September and (b) your work will not be added to the collection until you hit [Post]
* Will you be promoting/featuring completed projects on Tumblr?
You are welcome and encouraged to submit your work for posting on the @sicktember blog.
Your submission should be formatted as follows
- A link to your content (tumblr, ao3, ff.net, wattpad, etc…)
 - The fandom or alternative fandom tag you wish to be included on your submission. (No fandom tag, original work, owl house, m/arvel, c*bra k*i, etc…) ** please limit your fandom tags to 5 or less **
- The prompt you used (the number and the prompt itself)
 - A Summary, description or snippet of your content (not a full fic)
The above-mentioned Information does not have to be in that order, but it does have to be clearly included.
** Important things to keep in mind when submitting:
- We will be posting no more than 10 submissions a day.
- To be posted, your submission must be correctly formatted.
- The correctly formatted submissions we post will be chosen at random.
- Submissions will close one week after the event (Oct. 7)
- We will queue submissions until the inbox is empty
⭐⭐ Please keep in mind that this is one fan-run event among many. If you don’t agree with the above-mentioned parameters, that’s okay! We want you to feel comfortable with the events you choose to participate in. And if that means not participating in this one, that’s okay too! Find one you love. If you can’t, consider creating one of your own!⭐⭐ 
 **If you have any further questions, send an ask to the @sicktember blog or reach out to  @yes-i-am-happyaspie or @obsessionoftheday.
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mirrren · 3 months
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He’s so Christian rock
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snoopyearss · 2 months
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When jjk characters call you ‘clingy’
Feat. crybaby-ish!reader
Gojo, geto, toji
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Cw: hurt, guilt, angst (if you squint)
This is inspiration from a mini series i read a few days ago by user @fumekara. It was so good, I love me some angst to hurt/comfort.
But i also wrote this from personal experience too, my bad yall i treat this like my own personal diary
Anyway, enjoy!
Satoru Gojo
He was pissed. He doesn’t typically show it much, but when he does, he gets kind of scary. He’s more quiet, his voice gets deeper, and his whole body language just shifts. So when the higher-ups piss him off after a very long meeting, the last thing he needs is someone to pounce on him. He usually loves it when you greet him at the door when you’re home for work. But today, he just wanted to strip off his clothes and hop into bed.
Gojo huffs as he leaves the elevator of your shared apartment and grabs his keys from his pocket to unlock the door. As he opens the door, he sees you in the kitchen grabbing ingredients for dinner. “Hi baby,” You softly greeted him. “Hey.” was all he said back. It confused you for a second because he’s never greeted you like that before.
“Is everything okay?” You walk up to him to try to kiss him on his cheek. “God- Y/n, please.” He grumbled, walking right past you and placing his briefcase on the table. “I’m just trying to help,” you defended, walking up to take his coat off for him. “At least let me take your coat-” That’s when he snapped. Something he’s never done to you before. “Y/n, I fuckin’ got it! Geez, you’re so fucking clingy!” He aggressively shrugged your hands off his shoulder. It scared you a bit, to see him so angry at you. You were confused, all you wanted to do was make him feel better. Were you really that clingy?
“I-I’m sorry.” your voice came out shaky and defeated. Hearing how small your voice sounded in response to him lashing out made Satoru’s heart shatter into thousands of pieces. He wanted to turn around and apologize, but the words weren’t coming out. By the time he turned to face you, Your back was already facing him, preparing dinner for the both of you as tears rolled down your face.
Suguru Geto
It was 2 weeks after Suguru deflected. 2 weeks since he committed mass murder in that village. 2 weeks since he left Satoru, Shoko, and the others. It was weighing on him and you could tell. Nothing but him, his two adopted girls, a few people who believed in his cause, and you.
You promised him you would go wherever he would go, and he was so grateful for it. He loves you deeply and would do anything for you. But some days just threw everything on him at one time, today was one of those days. Monkeys non-sorcerers begging him to exercise curses left and right, Nanako and Mimiko begging him to take them shopping, missing payments from those begging for his service. It was all too much. And the guilt was eating away at him.
He genuinely wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying and it annoyed him how much talking you were doing in his ear at that moment. You were both sitting outside watching the two girls play in the yard. “Y/n,” He interrupted you. “Don’t you have something better to do than to just bother me?” He sighed sounding so condescending. “What do you mean?”
“Must you always cling to me? Isn’t there something else you can do besides following me everywhere I go, at all times of the day?!” His voice raised a bit as if he was talking to a non-sorcerer. “I didn’t realize I was. I was only trying to tell you about what me and the girls did today,” You defended. “You’re always so busy, I rarely get to see you anymore.”
“Yeah, because you’re always underneath me. Sometimes-” He stopped mid-sentence because of the saddened look on your face. His eyes softened a bit. “Sometimes I just need my space.” He sighed. You only nodded and started to walk back inside. “Ok, I understand.” Your voice cracked. Leaving Suguru alone to think about what he had just said to you. As if he didn’t feel guilt then, he definitely feels guilt now.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji was a bit frustrated today. He was cheated out of his money after doing a side job, the bet he placed on the race he kept constantly telling you about fell through, leaving him with zero, and to top it all off, the child support payment was coming up. You being an empath and knowing your boyfriend so well, you wanted to help him any way you could.
He was sitting in the chair by the island in the kitchen with his fingers combing through his hair. He was on the phone with multiple people at once, trying to solve his money issues. “Shiu, you guaranteed me way more money than this! How am I supposed to cover this months child support with this amount?!” You walked up to where he was, wondering what all the commotion was about. “Baby?” You softly called out. You could hear Shiu on the other line trying to calm him down and explain the situation.
“That sounds like a bunch of bull and you know it Shiu, you better have my money by next week thursday or else I’m taking it myself.” He grumbled and hung up the phone. “Baby,” You gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.
“What, Y/n.” He sternly said. You merely blinked a few times. “I was just checking to see if you were okay. What’s with the attitude?”
“I’m fuckin’ frustrated okay? Please leave. You aren’t helping right now.” He waved you off.
“I barely did anything, I just wanted to know if you needed help with anything-”
“Jesus, I said enough! I don’t need your help. Fuck, you’re so clingy.” His voice booming caused you to remove your hand from his shoulder in fear. Seeing your reaction caused him to think about what he said and how he said it. The last think he wanted to do was scare you. He wanted you to feel safe around him. But with the way you jumped at how he raised his voice, it saddened him a bit.
“Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He was cut off by the sound of his child wailing in the background. “I’ll take care of it.” You said in the smallest voice, not even leaving him time to protest against it and apologize.
“Fuck.”
Part 2
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 03:12 A.M 」
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tw: pregnancy. just a little something based on ask~ gojo annoys you on daily basis, so now you return the favor and he can't refuse it bc you're his baby mama😋
a part of gojo's love entries
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“satoru— your baby is hungry,” you pouted, poking his cheek repeatedly. “sa-to-ru!!”
it was 3 in the morning, and ideally, you would have been sleeping... only that suddenly you were awoken by rumbles from your growing belly.
yet your husband was still sound asleep without any care in the world, prompting you to poke him until you succeeded in making him hear you out.
satoru begrudgingly cracked his eyes open, still having his face tucked under the blanket and yawning. “ngh, sweets… what is it?”
his sleepy voice was thick, low and raspy. usually you’d swoon and leave a hickey or two on his neck but not now, as the overwhelming hunger made you almost curl.
“baby is craving mochi,” you said, eyes shining up to him ever so innocently. “get it for me, satoruuu.”
“oh?” if he wasn’t awake before, now he was after hearing your nagging tone drawling his name. he faced you and drew you closer. “what do you want again, hmm?”
“ice cream mochi!!”
“oooh that.” satoru scratched his head at the memory of him eating the last of it yesterday. “but we ran out of them, sweetheart… wait till morning, yeah? i’ll go to market to get some.”
“but...”
“can’t baby wait a few more hours, hmm?”
“no! want it— now!”
satoru blinked at your insistence. you looked positively adorable while sulking at him too.
“why mochi all of sudden, huh?” he decided to humor you. “you used to say they taste bland.”
“that’s because of your sperm infecting me,” you sullenly accused. “and don’t pretend you haven’t been feeding me mochi for weeks. baby likes it more than i thought.”
“hey! don’t bash my sperm! they did no wrong and completed the deed splendidly!”
“you’re just a one-time donor, don’t be smug.”
he whined and you huffed, before suddenly your stomach grumbled loudly and you curled up. “mmhm.”
“hey… what’s wrong?” satoru quickly sat up and placed his hand on your baby bump. “really hungry? wait, i’ll get you something to nibble on first.”
he rummaged through his work uniform and found several bite-sized chocolate bars he brought around, and unwrapped the foil. “here.”
you immediately devoured the treat to sate your hunger, but still, your baby longed for more—
“mochi…” you mumbled despondently, your expression turning heartbroken. and one second later satoru realized how much he wanted to squeeze your cheeks, and relented.
“okay, okay, sweets~” he gave your head several comforting pats, making you look up. “i’ll go and get the mochi, yeah? you stay put and wait for me, 'kay?”
“yay.” a little smile bloomed in your face and satoru chuckled, finding you so unbearably endearing.
and so, for you, he ventured out to the closest 24-hour convenience store, picking up some ice cream mochi along with other treats to replenish your stock, before teleporting back home.
he was expecting that you'd still be all sulky while waiting for him, but instead, he found you peacefully asleep, hogging his pillow.
each breath that caused your chest to rise and fall made you appear all the more vulnerable and soft in his eyes.
you looked so irrevocably precious to him. his sweet little wife... in that moment, satoru felt like he was the luckiest man alive, getting to have you as his.
“you naughty girl.” he let out an amused laugh before reclaiming his spot next to you. the hold you had over him— you made him go through the cold night air, and now you were monopolizing his pillow and he had to resume sleeping without one at all.
and yet all he could feel was love. for you and your baby, as he pulled you close to his chest.
“both of you sure love teaming up against me, huh?”
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tender-rosiey · 2 months
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How do you think sukuna would act with a baby girl?? The same as his son? Maybe a bit more soft since he reminds him of reader?
troublesome — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: i have something else in store for geto <3
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sukuna never planned on becoming a parent, but then you became pregnant. he had two choices: kill the kid from now or let you give birth to it.
he spent a good couple of days deciding on what to do, until he finally made his mind and headed to your room, swiftly. there you were in all your glory, eyes snapping to your husband the moment he entered.
you smiled, standing up, “hey, sukuna.” then walked to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek.
he, however, said nothing and simply kept staring you down then he said a simple phrase, “the kid.”
your eyes widened, your thoughts jumbled, and your nerves were all over the place. still, you manage to get out a response, “what about it?”
he stayed silent, and it drove you over the edge. you needed him to say something—anything. will he let you have it, or will he kill it? he was never fond of kids, always killed them first in his raids. will your own child with him bear the same fate as the others he had slaughtered and even eaten?
is this a joke from the universe? you married the king of curses, and, therefore, your punishment is never getting to experience the joy of having kids? but even if he does end up choosing wanting to kill it, how will he—
“I will let you keep it.”
you never thought a simple sentence would induce so much happiness in you. you cup his face and  start showering him in kisses, and you unceasingly thank him, “thank you, sukuna! thank you so much!”
he grunts, hand resting on your waist, “just don’t cause me trouble, and it better be a boy.” he takes hold of your chin and makes you lock eyes with him, “I don’t want a whiny, slimy little girl.”
and because the world loves him so much, he was indeed graced with a whiny, slimy little girl.
the moment the woman announced that it’s a girl, your face paled, and your husband’s frown could’ve never been deeper. his eyes traced every action that happened from the cleaning of the baby to the little girl being nestled cozily in your arms.
she starts calming down when she feels the warmth of your skin against her own. slowly, her breathing evens out, and she falls into a deep slumber.
the servants rush out of the room, leaving you, your husband, and your newborn daughter.
you don’t know what to do: do you speak first or do you wait for him to do it? you keep searching his face for any positive emotion, something that would give you hope and make you forget about his sharp scowl.
he puts a hand out and orders, “hand her to me.”
your heart fell to your stomach. there’s nothing you could do. whatever he decided on was what will happen. you desperately wanted to hold her for a bit longer and to feel her comforting weight in your arms.
though, your husband got impatient, eyes sharply looking you in the eyes, and he glowered, “y/n.”
despite your heart screaming and trying to resist ever letting him touch a single hair on your baby, you shakily put her in his hand. she starts huffing, puffing, and squirming in his hold. fearing the worst, you squeezed your eyes shut.
you simply won’t be able to take witnessing your daughter’s slaughter with your very own eyes.
you expect to hear a slash, a little thud, but you’re met with nothing, just a groan from your husband as he mutters, “she is small.”
you blink owlishly then stare at him. he is slowly raising and lowering the hand—an attempt to rock her maybe—that has your baby in it. then, he situates her against his chest.
he looks up to you and states, “she is also ugly.”
frowning, you retort, “that’s because of your genes.”
your husband quirks an eyebrow, “you’re balantly insulting me even after I spared it?”
“her.”
“same difference.”
sukuna shuffles until he is seated beside you and silently pulls you into his embrace.
you just took notice of how he is trying to avoid touching her with his nails and how his hold on her is rather gentle. the little girl lets out a small sigh then snuggles into his chest. her dad copies her with a sigh of his own then he grunts, “not a single word.”
a small giddy giggle escapes you, and you nuzzle into his chest in turn. he squeezes you lightly, before scoffing, “or a sound.”
later on that day, after you were transferred into the master bedroom along with your daughter, you’re left to rest in the expansive bed with your daughter napping in the crib right under the window.
you thought the light might give her some sort of comfort—call it a mother’s instinct. you wanted her to grow up in the light, not to be sheltered and hidden in shadows. who knows if these shadows will devour whole or not.
but you will try your best to provide her with a normal life.
as you start to drift off to sleep, you take note of a large figure standing in front of the window. he is blocking the light from sky—at least the one from the window above her crib. quickly, you are able to define its features and identify that it’s—thank god—your husband.
he has this sort of contemplating look on his face, a solemn look, maybe a bit troubled too. he keeps staring at the sleeping baby as she takes small and slow breaths.
she is fragile, he knows. he also knows that a flick of his finger will end her right then and there.
but he finds his hand only capable of gently caressing her cheek, and a wave of shock is sent through him when his daughter leans toward his touch. his daughter. he heaves a sigh and a frown is etched onto his face.
this is going to be a troublesome journey.
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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pucksandpower · 4 months
Text
That’s Not My Name
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: in which people assume you are everything except for your husband’s wife
Warnings: mentions of a significant age gap
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The Daughter
You take a deep breath as you step through the paddock, clutching your pass tightly in your hand. The noise and energy of the Formula 1 weekend thrums around you. You’ve never been to a race before, and it’s all so new and overwhelming.
When Toto invited you to join him for the British Grand Prix, you were hesitant. This stage of your relationship is still so new — you’ve only been married a few months. But Toto was insistent. He wants you by his side.
Still, you feel out of place among the teams and journalists. You’re just a normal girl, plucked from obscurity by a man twice your age. What must they all think of you?
You arrive at the Mercedes garage and glance around nervously. The mechanics are bustling about, focused on their work. You spot Toto across the garage, talking intensely with his drivers. He looks stressed, his brows furrowed as he discusses strategy. This high pressure environment is his domain, but it’s foreign to you.
Toto glances up and notices you hovering near the entrance. His face breaks into a smile and he quickly excuses himself from his conversation to come greet you.
“Mein liebchen, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You cling to the solidness of him, drawing comfort from his familiar embrace.
“I wasn’t sure I should come,” you say softly, glancing around. The mechanics are staring curiously. You know how it must look — their team principal hugging an unknown woman half his age.
Toto cups your face gently, “I want you here. This is your world now too. Don’t worry what anyone else thinks.”
You bite your lip but nod, trusting in him. If Toto believes you belong here, then you do.
He tucks you under his arm and leads you further into the garage, introducing you to his team. They greet you politely, hiding any surprise or judgment. You know you’ll have to win them over, prove that you’re more than just Toto’s midlife crisis.
A sudden commotion draws your attention across the paddock. The Red Bull Racing team is gathered around the entrance, greeting their team principal enthusiastically as he arrives. Christian Horner is holding court, shaking hands and clapping shoulders.
You tense involuntarily. The rivalry between Mercedes and Red Bull is legendary, with Christian often attempting to get under Toto’s skin. You don’t know how he’ll react to you.
As if sensing your thoughts, Toto tightens his arm around you. “Don’t worry about him,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”
But you can’t relax as you see Christian look your way, his gaze sharp and assessing. He says something to his team and begins walking towards the Mercedes garage. Your heart sinks. There’s no avoiding this confrontation.
“Toto!” Christian calls out jovially as he approaches. “I see you’ve brought a special guest this weekend.”
Toto presses his lips together but forces a polite smile. “Yes, I wanted her to experience her first race weekend. Christian, meet Y/N, my wife.”
You extend your hand nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Christian raises his eyebrows, blatantly looking you up and down. “Your wife? My, they do start young these days.” His tone is patronizing.
You blush deeply, humiliated. But Toto comes to your defense.
“I’d appreciate if you leave her out of our rivalry,” he says sharply. “She has nothing to do with it.”
Christian holds up his hands in mock surrender. “No need to get defensive! I just didn’t realize you had gotten hitched again. And to someone so … fresh faced. She could be your daughter!” He chuckles.
Your face burns. You hate Christian for putting voice to that thought. You know people judge you and Toto for your age difference. Hearing him joke about it so callously stings.
Toto steps forward angrily but you grab his arm, silently begging him not to cause a scene. He takes a deep breath, struggling to contain his temper.
“It was lovely to meet you, Christian,” you say as evenly as you can manage. “I do hope you’ll have a good weekend.”
Christian looks surprised by your composure. He nods farewell and heads back to the Red Bull garage, throwing one last smirk over his shoulder.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, Toto turns to you. “I’m so sorry about that,” he says earnestly. “Christian is an ass. Don’t let him get to you.”
You shake your head, swallowing back tears. “It’s fine, I knew people would think those things about me … about us ...” you trail off miserably.
Toto cups your face in both hands. “Look at me. None of that matters. He can think what he wants. But I know who you are. You are my heart, my present, and my future. No one can take that away, not even Christian bloody Horner.”
You give a watery laugh at his vehemence and he kisses your forehead tenderly.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him, finding your courage again. “I want to be here.”
Toto smiles proudly and laces his fingers through yours. “Good. Let’s show them we’re not going to hide. I want you here, where you belong.”
Holding hands firmly, you walk with your head held high back into the bustling garage. Let them stare and whisper. You know your place is here with Toto. No judgment or rivalry can change that. This is your world now.
The Assistant
The day has been a whirlwind so far. After the confrontation with Christian Horner, you tried your best to settle into the hectic swing of pre-race preparations. Toto has been swept up in strategy meetings and sponsor obligations. You trail along behind him, clutching your paddock pass, trying not to get in the way.
During a rare free moment, Toto turns to you. “Why don’t you go exploring for a bit? Get a feel for the place. I need to take this call but I’ll come find you soon.”
You nod uncertainly. Venturing off alone makes you nervous, but you want to prove to Toto you can handle this new world.
You wander toward the garages housing the Formula 2 teams. The cars are lined up, mechanics hovering over them making final tweaks and adjustments. You watch them work, enthralled by their practiced movements.
“Are you lost?”
You turn to see a mechanic frowning at you. He’s from one of the backmarker teams, a lower budget operation.
“Oh no, just looking around,” you stammer self-consciously.
The mechanic’s eyes drop to your pass. “Ah a VIP pass eh? Who are you with?”
“Oh um Mercedes ...” you trail off awkwardly.
His eyebrows raise, impressed. “Posh. You must be Toto’s new assistant then?”
You freeze, the old insecurity rising. Assistant. Because why else would someone your age be hanging around the Mercedes garage? You want to correct him, but the words stick in your throat. You don’t want to make a scene.
So you just nod and mumble something noncommittal. The mechanic looks sympathetic.
“First race weekend is it? They can be chaotic. But don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. Who knows, if you impress the boss, you might get to travel full time!”
He means it kindly, but his words dig into your wounds. You give a thin smile. “Thank you, I appreciate the advice.”
You turn away before he can respond, a lump forming in your throat. No matter what Toto says, people will make assumptions about you.
Lost in thought, you wander toward the bustling fan zone. It’s a sea of colors, supporters wearing their favorite team’s kit. You pass unnoticed, just another face in the crowd.
The roar of an engine makes you glance up. The Formula 2 cars are being pushed out of the garage, heading for the grid. You hurry over, eager to get a closer look.
A harried looking engineer nearly runs right into you, focused on his tablet. “Oh, sorry, excuse me.” He does a double take. “Hey, you’re Toto’s new assistant right? I saw you with him around the paddock earlier.”
Your heart sinks. Word has spread. You open your mouth to correct him but he barrels on.
“Listen, I hate to do this, but any chance you can help me out? My usual assistant called in sick and I’m swamped. I just need someone to hold these and stand with the engineers during the race. You’ll get a front row view of the start!”
He looks at you pleadingly. You hesitate, but his need seems genuine.
“Um, sure, I can help,” you say.
“You’re a lifesaver!” He exclaims, piling several tire blankets into your arms. They’re heavier than you expected. “Just follow me.”
He leads you onto the grid and you get swept up in the controlled chaos, focusing on not dropping the blankets. The cars pull into position around you. The engineer directs you where to stand and you end up right against the barrier, the engines roaring just feet away.
Your heart races with excitement. The start is exhilarating, the cars peeling away in a blur. You forget your insecurities for a moment, lost in the thrill of the race.
The checkered flag waves and the engineer finally relieves you of the weight in your arms. “Thanks so much for your help! I really appreciate it ...” he pauses. “Actually I don’t think I got your name?”
You open your mouth but a familiar voice interrupts. “There you are!”
Toto appears through the crowd and pulls you into his arms. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Are you alright?”
He notices the engineer standing there awkwardly. “Can I help you?” Toto asks coolly.
“Nope, we’re all good here. Thanks again for your help,” the engineer nods at you and disappears into the dispersing crowd.
“What was that about?” Toto frowns. “Why was he giving you tire blankets?”
You sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on you again. “He thought I was your new assistant. He needed help so I said yes.” You shrug helplessly.
Understanding flashes across Toto’s face and he swears under his breath. “I’m so sorry, I never should have left you alone. I should have made things clearer who you are.”
You shake your head. “It’s okay. I don’t mind helping out, really.” But your voice wavers, betraying your hurt.
Toto cups your face gently. “No, it’s not okay. You are my partner, my equal. Not my assistant. I need to show people the extraordinary woman you truly are.”
His faith bubbles up your own courage. You straighten your shoulders, looking him in the eye.
“Then let’s go show them. I’m not hiding anymore. Take me where I belong, right by your side.”
Toto kisses you fiercely. “With pleasure, meine liebchen.”
He tucks you under his shoulder proudly. You keep your head high as you walk back through the paddock, passes reflecting in the sun. Let them stare and whisper. You know where you belong.
The Trespasser
A few months later, you’re starting to find your stride. Each race weekend poses new challenges, but with Toto by your side you’re learning to navigate the hectic world of motorsports.
The Mercedes team has slowly warmed up to you as well. Seeing how happy Toto is has softened their skepticism. You pitch in where you can — bringing freshly baked pastries and trying to make yourself useful. Having a purpose eases your lingering insecurities.
The Singapore Grand Prix means a sweltering heat that makes the paddock sticky and humid. The stuffy garage offers little relief so you wander outside hoping for a breeze. You end up in the fan zone, mingling with supporters visiting the various team merch shops and activities.
You chat with a few enthusiastic young fans, gently deflecting their eager questions about Toto and the team. Despite the heat and crowds, their passion for the sport is contagious and you find yourself smiling.
Toto texts that he needs you back at the garage, so you reluctantly leave your anonymous conversations and make your way through the paddock. As you draw closer to the Mercedes garage, you realize your pass has gone missing from your lanyard.
Your heart sinks. The passes grant crucial access and you don’t want to cause problems. But the garage is just ahead so you decide to explain yourself once you’re inside.
Slipping through the open door, you immediately spot Toto in the back. As you weave between bustling mechanics, a hand grasps your shoulder.
You turn to see one of the newer Mercedes mechanics frowning down at you. “What are you doing in here?” He demands. “This area is restricted.”
Flustered, you try to explain about your missing pass. But the mechanic’s stern expression doesn’t waver.
“How did you get in? I know all the team members but I haven’t seen you before.” His eyes narrow suspiciously.
Other mechanics have noticed the confrontation and start drifting over. You shrink under their doubtful gazes.
“I, uh, I’m Toto’s ...” you stammer, but the mechanic cuts you off.
“A likely story. Every race some starry-eyed fan tries to sneak in for an autograph or photo. You picked the wrong garage for that. Come on, let’s go.”
He takes your arm in a firm grip. Your protests fall on deaf ears as he escorts you briskly outside.
To your dismay Toto is occupied with an intense conversation, his back turned. No one intervenes as the mechanic marches you away from the garage and into the paddock.
“I don’t know how you got in here, but I’ll be reporting this. We can’t have unauthorized people wandering around restricted areas.”
You tug uselessly against his hold, trying to explain it’s all just a misunderstanding. But he remains stoic, unmoved by your pleas.
Other teams and drivers are staring now as he parades you past. Your face burns with humiliation at the thought of causing a scene or being accused of lying.
In a stroke of luck, you spot Lewis heading towards the Mercedes motorhome ahead. He knows you, surely he can clear this up!
You call his name desperately. “Lewis, Lewis! Help, please!”
Lewis turns, confusion clouding his features. But then he recognizes you and his brow furrows.
“What’s going on here?” He asks sharply, striding over.
The mechanic snaps to attention, clearly intimidated to be addressed by Lewis directly.
“I caught this girl sneaking around the garage! She claims to know Toto but it’s obviously a ruse to get access. I was just escorting her out.”
Lewis looks incredulous. “This is Toto’s wife, mate. She’s supposed to be there.”
The mechanic gapes, his authoritative air dissipating. “His wife? But she’s so young ...” he glances at you uncertainly. “My apologies, ma’am, I didn’t realize. We have to be vigilant about security.”
You shrug off his now-slack grip. “It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,” you mumble, face still burning.
Lewis places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get you back where you belong.”
He leads you away from the shrinking mechanic back toward the Mercedes garage. You feel tears pricking your eyes.
“Thank you, Lewis,” you say shakily. “I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen ...”
“Don’t worry about it. That guy is new around here, still learning the ropes.” Lewis pats your shoulder consolingly.
You nod, trying to brush it off. But the encounter left you rattled. Will there always be those who see you as an outsider?
Lewis seems to sense your swirling doubts. “He was just new. The team knows you well by now. Stuff like this will stop happening once the rest get used to you being around.”
You want to believe him. You’ve tried so hard to find your place here.
As you near the garage, Toto comes rushing out, scanning the paddock anxiously. His shoulders sag with relief when he spots you.
“Where have you been? I turned around and you were gone!” He exclaims, pulling you into his embrace.
Over his shoulder, you see Lewis mouth “tell him” before discreetly slipping away.
You take a deep breath and explain what happened with the mechanic. Toto’s expression darkens, his protective anger rising.
You touch his cheek gently. “It wasn’t his fault. It was just a misunderstanding.”
Toto sighs, anger melting away. “I should have been there. I should have introduced you properly to the new staff.”
You shake your head. “You can’t be responsible for how everyone sees me. I don’t need you fighting my battles. This is something I have to earn for myself. Their respect, their trust … I just need more time.”
Toto gazes at you with so much love and pride it takes your breath away. “You are so much stronger than you know. And if they can’t see that, well that’s on them.”
He kisses you softly. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this together.”
And wrapped securely in his arms, you finally believe it’s true. This is your world now. Your place is here, with him.
The Nanny
The warm early autumn breeze ruffles your hair as you wait outside the primary school, keeping one eye on the time. Any minute now the bell will ring, signaling the end of your son’s second day of preschool.
You smile thinking of this morning and his eager goodbye hug before practically sprinting into the building, too excited to look back. He has his father’s confidence.
Shifting the baby carrier holding your sleeping newborn daughter, you smooth down your dress self-consciously. Even after years with Toto, you still can’t help but feel out of place at posh schools like this.
The other mothers eye you curiously. No doubt wondering about the young woman with an infant waiting alone.
You know some of them recognized Toto yesterday when he dropped off and picked up your son. Your heart had lurched seeing him cradling Leon’s small hand, both your boys glancing back to wave goodbye.
But duty called for Toto today with important meetings at Mercedes’ Brackley Headquarters, so pickup fell to you today. Not that you mind another glimpse of that overjoyed grin when your son spots you.
The bell rings and a stream of children come pouring out the doors. You crane your neck, looking for a familiar head of tousled curls.
There! You wave eagerly as your son breaks into a run when he sees you.
“Mama!” He cries joyfully, slamming into your legs. You stroke his hair, hugging him tight.
“Did you have a good day baby?” You ask as he looks up at you adoringly.
He nods, launching into a story about finger painting that you can barely follow. But his enthusiasm is contagious and you can’t help but smile.
A polite cough interrupts you. An immaculately dressed woman is hovering nearby, eyeing your son curiously.
“Sorry to bother you, but I wanted to introduce myself properly. I’m Clarice, Emma’s mum,” she gestures to a girl clinging shyly to her leg.
“Lovely to meet you,” you say politely, shaking her offered hand. “I’m Y/N and this is Leon.”
You ruffle his curls and he gives a dimpled smile before hiding against your side. Clarice’s eyes flick between you and your son, a slight furrow in her brow.
“I hope I’m not overstepping, but I met Leon’s father yesterday during drop off. Is his mother … not around?” She asks delicately.
Your cheeks flush. Of course she would assume you’re the nanny, not the mother. Bracing yourself, you shake your head.
“No it’s okay! I’m his mother. Toto — Leon’s dad — had meetings today, so it’s my turn to do pickup.”
Clarice looks mortified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry for assuming. You just look so young, I thought ...” she trails off, flustered.
You force an understanding smile. “Don’t worry, it’s an easy mistake. Our age difference does raise some eyebrows.” You punctuate this with an awkward laugh.
Clarice seems eager to change the subject. “What a beautiful baby!” She gushes, peering at your daughter sleeping in her carrier. “And so well behaved.”
Grateful for the redirected conversation, you chat politely about your little girl. Clarice coos over her sweetly.
Other parents begin dispersing with their kids and Clarice makes her goodbyes. “So lovely meeting you both. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
You smile and take Leon’s hand to drive home, his chattering filling your ears. You know curious parents will likely gossip about Toto’s young wife. But it doesn’t sting as much as it once did. You’ve grown used to the assumptions by now.
Unlocking the front door, you’re greeted by the smell of cooking. Leon goes tearing off to the kitchen, shouting “Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you follow after, your daughter beginning to stir in her carrier.
Toto is there to sweep Leon into his arms, smothering his cheeks in kisses as your son giggles. The scene warms your heart.
Noticing your arrival, Toto sets Leon down to embrace you and peer at the baby. “How was pick up? Any tears today?” He asks Leon.
Your son shakes his head proudly. “I made a picture for you, Papa!” He runs off to retrieve it.
You meet Toto’s gaze over your daughter’s downy hair. “It was fine. Just the usual questions about my age from a school mum. She thought I was the nanny when we first met.”
You try to say it lightly, but Toto’s face tightens, protective anger flashing. Even after all this time, he hates when people judge you unfairly.
You touch his arm gently. “It’s okay, really. I don’t care what they think.”
And it’s true. The opinions of strangers can’t touch the beautiful family you’ve built together.
Toto lets out a long breath, anger melting away. “I know. But I still wish people could see you how I do.”
He pulls you close and you lean into him, breathing in his comforting scent. “As long as you and the kids see me, that’s all that matters.”
Leon comes barreling back in, brandishing his painting. “Look!!”
You both admire his abstract swirls of color dutifully. “A masterpiece!” Toto proclaims. “We’ll hang it on the fridge.”
Leon beams under the praise then dashes off again in pursuit of a toy.
You and Toto share a wry smile. “Never a dull moment with that one,” you remark. The baby begins fussing and you gently sway her.
“Here, let me.” Toto takes her expertly and she settles against his broad chest. Your heart squeezes at the sight.
Toto meets your gaze. “I know I’ve put you through a lot over the years. The stares, the gossip … you’ve endured it all with grace when you could have walked away.”
You stroke his cheek. “You and our family are worth any trial. I would do it all again without a second thought.”
Toto leans into your palm. “Having you by my side is the greatest gift.”
You kiss him softly, your heart brimming with love.
From the other room, Leon’s playful giggles reach you. The smell of dinner being prepared still fills the warm kitchen. And your baby girl doses off in her daddy’s arms.
This is your world. The only one that matters. And you know for certain you belong.
The Husband
The morning sun streams through the hotel window as you sip your coffee, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Race weekends are always a whirlwind, but you’ve learned to carve out small moments of calm when you can.
Toto is already down in the paddock prepping for qualifying today. The room feels empty without him. Sighing, you click over to TikTok, hoping for a distraction.
Immediately a video pops up on your feed from a fan account, the caption “so cute!” catching your eye. You tap play, assuming it’s another clip of drivers’ kids or someone’s grid walk antics.
But you nearly spit out your coffee when the video loads. It’s Toto, standing by the circuit entrance, surrounded by a gaggle of teenage girls. They’re prodding phones toward him eagerly, voices babbling over one another.
“Toto, what’s it like being Y/N’s husband?” One asks boldly.
You freeze, breath caught in your throat. In all the years by Toto’s side, you’ve never heard anyone flip the script like that. It’s always been “what’s it like being Toto’s wife?” You’re an accessory to his fame, not the focus.
Toto looks momentarily surprised, then laughs good-naturedly. “She is extraordinary,” he proclaims sincerely. “Being with her is a privilege every day.”
The girls sigh dreamily at his romanticism. Another chimes in, “You must be so proud of everything she’s accomplished!”
Toto nods, his expression tender. “I am in awe of her strength and resilience. She has faced so much scrutiny with grace. And now people finally see her incredible spirit.”
You press a hand to your mouth as tears spring to your eyes. After years by his side, Toto’s steadfast faith in you still takes your breath away.
“So you’re proud to be Y/N’s husband?” The first girl presses.
“Absolutely.” Toto doesn’t hesitate. “She is my inspiration.”
The video ends and you sit staring at the screen, cheeks wet. Never did you imagine your own fans, separate from Toto. But these girls look up to you, see you as more than just “the wife.”
Your phone buzzes with a text from Toto.
Have you seen the video? The PR team says you’re trending on TikTok!
You type back shakily.
Just watched it. Made me cry happy tears 🥹
His response is immediate.
You deserve all the praise, meine liebchen. I meant every word.
Wiping your eyes, you get up and dress quickly. Down in the paddock, you spot Toto right away. He sweeps you into his arms.
“There’s my superstar wife.” His eyes shine with pride.
You kiss him fiercely. “Thank you for always believing in me. Even when I doubted myself.”
Toto touches your cheek. “You’ve earned every bit of admiration. Don’t ever forget your worth.”
As he walks you into the bustling garage, mechanics glance up from their work to smile and wave. The fans hover nearby, whispering excitedly when they see you.
You no longer feel out of place here. This is your world now, as much as Toto’s. You’ve claimed your seat at the table.
Standing confidently by your husband’s side, you wave back, ready to take on the day.
3K notes · View notes
supercutszns · 5 months
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a place with you; luke castellan
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wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)
pairing: luke castellan x f! reader
synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.
warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker
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Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.
So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.
When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.
“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.
“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”
You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.
Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.
So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.
Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.
Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?
This time, though, he’s a little worried.
It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.
It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.
There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.
You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.
“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”
You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”
It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”
The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.
Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”
“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”
You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”
He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”
“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”
“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”
“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”
You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”
It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.
Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”
“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.
His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”
I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.
“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”
It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”
He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”
Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”
Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.
Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.
Until you’re claimed.
Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.
He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.
Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.
You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.
But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?
After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.
“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.
You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”
Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.
You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”
When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”
There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.
He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.
“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.
You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”
“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”
It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”
He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”
You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”
There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”
Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”
He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”
His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”
He turns back to you. “Really?”
“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”
“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.
“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”
Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”
His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”
It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”
There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”
You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.
He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.
“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”
“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.
He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”
Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.
But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.
6K notes · View notes
surielstea · 11 days
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Sweet Temptations
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel enters a bet with his brothers on who can go the longest without sex with their mate, Reader makes it hard for him to win.
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | creampie | rough sex | shadow play | the slightest bit of bondage | pet names (love, baby, angel) | 2k words of smut cause I love all you freaks
6.2k words
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I tread softly down the long hallway, following the golden tether connecting me and my mate. Shadows weave through my fingers and twirl up my calves, following at my side until I stop at a familiar door.
I creak open the private library's door and peer my head in only to find Azriel in a large leather chair that I would be drowning in if it was me who sat in it. He was lounging carelessly, a book between his hands as he flipped through the pages.
If he knew I was at the doorway he didn’t show it, just continued reading without a stir, he didn't look up to me either. So I took the opportunity to gawk at the beauty that is my mate, to admire his elegant features. It was no secret Azriel was the prettiest of the three-winged Illyrians. It didn't matter what your type was, my mate seemed to be able to make anyone flush bright red with a few words.
My gaze wandered over his complexion that I’ve admired countless times, those sharp cheekbones that seemed to be able to cut steel, his tousled black waves that drifted over his forehead, those hazel eyes rapidly scanning over the page of his book, and his golden skin that was fully on display due to him being shirtless, I was the culprit for his missing clothing, the soft black shirt draped over my frame, going down to my exposed thighs.
"I can feel you staring." He finally speaks and I startle but he still doesn't look up to me. I decided just looking wasn't nearly enough, because anybody could look at him, and I didn't want to be anybody, I wanted my hands on him the way only a lover could have. I step into the private library and close the door behind me. My steps are silent as I approach his side but again, he's still not sparing me a glance.
Something like envy makes me frown, being jealous over a book was foolish but Azriel's eyes were always on me. He is constantly observing me, silently watching no matter the circumstance. It was such a normal occurrence in our relationship that I had grown used to his eternal notice, not realizing how much I loved it until now, until this foreign attention-craving attitude took over my emotions that screamed look at me.
"Azriel," I sit on the armrest of the large chair, I feel pathetic being so desperate like this.
"Hm?" That's all he replies with, but he still won't look at me, why won't he notice me? It wasn't that I needed the attention. He could do his own thing I didn't mind, but I also didn't want to be ignored.
"I'm going to make some breakfast, do you have a preference?" I place a hand on his arm, tracing my nail over his tattoo, something I do so often that I don’t have to look at the tattoo to know where the inky lines are.
"Whatever you make will be good." He said, his words slightly clipped. I crease my brows but nod and place a kiss on his temple before sliding off of the chair. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with his thoughts.
I walk back to the door, giving him one last confused glance before leaving the library and aiming my way towards the kitchen.
I decided on making a breakfast quiche, something simple so I could mull over my thoughts while I baked. I learned the recipe from Rhys's mother so it comforted both me and Azriel I suppose, growing up in that house every winter when they weren’t preoccupied at windhaven held some of my favorite memories, as well as some of the worst. I mated with Azriel in that house, on my twentieth birthday it had clicked and we’ve been together ever since— but this was the first time Azriel has ever ignored me.
As I cooked I wondered what was going on with him, to be distracted over what he was reading I could understand, I've done that to him nearly a hundred times but the way he spoke almost sounded restrained? Like he needed to hold back from saying anything else or even doing anything else but sit there still reading.
I played the quiche once it was done on two ornate plates. I've always liked to cook, but the three winged males seemed to be against it when we were younger, saying that I didn't have to since we were in Illyria, that just because I was a girl didn’t mean I had to pick up that lifestyle. I had to make it clear to them that I wasn't their maid and I wasn't even Illyrian, it's not like I went around cleaning up after the messy boys anyway, in fact, Rhys’s mother gave them more chores than me, which has always irked Cassian.
"Az, food is ready!" I shouted down the hall and to my surprise he came down the stairs in mere seconds, without the book in his hands. "For you." I slid one of the plates over to him and he blinked down at it, still not looking at me as he carried them over to the table.
"My favorite," He hummed as I walked over to him and placed utensils beside his dish. "Thank you." He picks up the fool and cuts into his quiche. I frown. He usually kisses me after I make a meal for him, or at the least gives me a hug. I muffle a sigh and opt to lean down and kiss his cheek instead, then take a seat beside him in front of my own meal.
We ate in silence like always, but today it was slightly uncomfortable, not fully awkward, but just... off. The food was good and Azriel had it disappearing in minutes, at least he still likes my cooking. When I finish he collects both of our dishes and takes them to the sink where he'll wash them later tonight.
"It was delicious as always my love, thank you." He calls over his shoulder as he wipes his hands, but he doesn't look at me. I would do anything right now to get him to look at me.
I look at the wall of windows to my side and notice the sun rising, golden and pink hues painting the sky. "Don't you have training with Cassian today?" I ask, flitting my eyes back to him.
"Mhm, I'm going to get ready now." He says at the base of the stairs. My stomach twists anxiously, have I done something wrong? Why is he being so distant?
“Can I come?” I ask once he’s halfway up the steps.
“If you’d like to, get dressed,” He replies dryly and a frown tugs at my lips. He only talked to me in vague words, not weighing in on his own opinion on anything like I was used to, normal flowing conversation. And maybe I was in my head, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to watch my mate train under the golden sun.
I rush up the stairs and enter my shared bedroom, going straight to the armoire and finding a simple outfit. I pull a pair of pants on, I wasn’t training and only spectating but it’d feel wrong to show up to a training ring in a gown. I swapped out Azriel’s shirt that still clung to my body for a top that matched my flowing bottoms, the style reminding me of what Amren typically wore.
“Az can you tie me?” I approached his side of the bedroom where he was adjusting the siphon on his gauntlet. I turned around and held my hair up before he could reply, but instead of his hands that grabbed ahold of the strings it was silky shadows, cold against my bare back as they tied the strings into dainty bows.
He walked out of the room before they were finished and I chased after him, feeling pathetic while trying any ploy to get his attention but if he would just tell me what was going on I’d be willing to help him, but I couldn’t do that if he ignored me.
I intertwined my hand with his and he squeezed it on instinct, then quickly loosened his hold like he wasn’t allowed to show me any form of affection.
He wasted no time before shadow-walking us to the top of the house of wind where Cassian always trained with my mate. He doesn't say anything, just lets us slip into that darkness of realms. I cling to his arm tighter, just in case I fall into another pitch-black realm full of mysterious creatures. The darkness only lasted a mere second until we were on the roof of the mansion Az and I used to live in.
I steady myself with Azriel's arm but he doesn't return the movement, as if he didn't want me to be anywhere near him. I disband our arms as soon as I can stand on my own. I notice Cassian across the rooftop, Nesta beside him, seething so noticeably I thought steam might come from her ears. I walk over to the sitting area where the water station resides, Nesta following suit as our mates warm up with their usual movements.
I knew better than to ask Nesta why she seemed so irritated but when she sat right beside me I felt safe enough to say she wasn't mad at anything to do with me.
Nesta and I had become close friends while I resided at the house of wind, Azriel and I only moved out about a year after her and Cassian’s mating bond clicked. But during that time Nesta would often confide in me. When she felt she couldn't talk to Cassian but needed someone, anyone who would understand. I happened to be that person. It started with romance book recommendations the house hadn't already given to her, then moved to deeper things. Things like Tomas or problems she was having with Cassian, or even her struggles with the power from the Cauldron. However, there were still things she refused to talk about, her sisters for example.
"I'm going to kill him." She gritted out as the two males began to spar.
"Tell me about it." I huffed, staring at the warriors fighting so roughly, not their usual fluid movements. Like they needed to get an anger out that's been pent up. Sweat glistened off their tan skin, discarding their shirts minutes ago— not going past me or Nesta's notice. The golden sun beamed down on them like a spotlight as they battled, swords clashing and slamming down onto the others, they were uncontrolled and savage, so far from the routine maneuvers and clever counters.
"What'd he do this time?" I ask, propping my elbows on my knees and leaning my chin into my hands, boredom enveloping me with open arms.
"He's not paying any attention to me." She huffs and I freeze. "I went as far as to try and give him head this morning and he outright ignored me," Nesta grumbled, picking at her nails. My confusion doubled over.
"Azriel's doing the same," I mumbled, sitting up to look at her confused. "He won’t look at me and will barely even talk to me," I explain and she glares at the two men on the mat, her stare so deathly I thought lightning might strike down on our mates.
"There's no way they've turned celibate right?" Nesta creased her brows and I snort at the idea alone.
"Them two? No way." I shake my head, leaning back into my chair.
"Maybe we should contact Feyre, perhaps Rhys has something to do with this." I offer.
"The three of them always seem to be up to something." She glowered.
"I'll be right back unless you want to come to the River house with me?" I ask. She shakes her head no and I nod, understanding.
I winnow straight into the foyer of the River House. Feyre who was sitting in the living room looked more than pissed. She glanced at me but wasn’t shocked when I suddenly appeared in her home. "Is Rhys ignoring you?" I sigh and she nods with a frown. "Where is he?" I glance around the sitting room as if the High Lord might be hiding.
"Out with Nyx," She kicks the toddler's toy by her foot weakly.
"What the hel is going on?" I sit beside her on the couch.
"They're doing a bet." She rolls her eyes. "Who can ‘hold out’ the longest." She makes a quotation gesture around her words and I scoff.
"You're kidding." My jaw nearly drops.
"Nope. They thought it'd be the only thing they could beat Azriel at, so you probably have it the worst." She huffs. "Stupid Illyrian pride." The high lady uttered. I'm going to strangle my mate.
"So they’re doing a sex ban on each other." I scratch the back of my head in astonishment.
"Sounds typical." She hums.
"I'm going to fix this. We’re going to make them lose." I stand from my seat. "Put on your sluttiest outfit and get Nyx a babysitter," I order her, an idea blooming in my head. "They might be prideful but not even Rhys can resist a wanting female," I explain and a feline smile curves over her lips.
I had told Nesta the same as Feyre, dress in something her mate can’t resist her in, drive him mad. We both left training before it was over. The males didn't bother noticing so we didn't say goodbye.
I took my time in choosing an outfit. The idea of Azriel's pride being more important than so much as looking at me made me beyond furious. If he wanted to ignore me over a stupid bet then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine. I selected a lingerie set that was a cobalt blue, his favorite color to see me in, due to it matching the color of his siphons, it was some possessive nature to have me dressed in a color that so clearly connected me to him.
I put the set on, delicate lace and soft mesh that he's yet to see, the kind I know he loves to rip off. I put on a white nightgown over the garments, sheer enough to still see the sapphire underwear but also opaque enough to prompt curiosity. I leave my hair down, I don't mess with it at all. He likes it down, and likes to run his hands through it. Another thing I won't let him do until he admits to losing this stupid wager between him and his brothers. I put a thin garter on my thigh, the only blue piece fully visible.
I run my fingers along a shelf of perfumes, selecting the one I usually wore when we went on dates, reminding him of those nights he'd run the tip of his nose along the column of my throat and smell that insatiable scent. I sprayed it on me, but also misted his reading chair with it, he couldn't escape the thought of me if he tried. A devious smile curved my lips as I placed the perfume back into its rightful place.
The front door of the house opens and I freeze. I know it's him. I grin and exit our bedroom, padding down the stairs until I'm just across the hall from him. His hair was pushed back and he was still glistening in sweat. Gods, he looked so perfect it was hard to stay mad. But when he didn't bother glancing at me all that rage returned.
A shadow swirled up my thigh and I allowed it to travel around the garter. Another zipped toward me, curving around my waist as if to recognize what I was wearing. I smiled down at the dark tendrils and they zipped away, quickly returning to their master and brushing up his wings, those perfect and large wings I needed my hands on. Shadows curved around his ear, telling him all about what I was wearing and immediately his gaze snapped to mine.
Those hazel eyes finally came into contact with my own. And gods how nice it was to be seen again. I remained strong. I gave him a gentle smile and walked closer.
"What are you doing?" His eyes followed me, that familiar attentiveness I missed so much returning.
"What do you mean?" I tilt my head innocently.
"Why are you dressed like that." His hands fist at his sides and I allow his eyes to drift everywhere.
"The nightgown was a gift from the boutique in The Rainbow, on the house after I bought all those presents for solstice," I explain, the lie easy on my tongue, I had bought this for our anniversary which was only a few weeks from now, but seeing that utterly desperate look on his face made showing him earlier worth it. "Do you not like it?" I do a small twirl and his knuckles turn white as the dress flows up and reveals a portion of my underwear.
"It's see-through." He gritted out and I frowned, looking down at myself.
"Is it? I hadn't realized. It's hard to tell in the darkness of our bedroom I suppose." I shrug, looking back up to him.
"It's pretty, just wear a slip under it if we leave the house." He hums casually, then brushes past me and goes into the library. Anger simmers inside of me as I hear the door close. How had that not worked? How much more direct could I get?
I sigh and quickly follow after him. Opening the door and shutting it behind me. He sat in the leather chair, as expected, book in his hands.
I wandered the room absent-minded, peering at the shelves with curious eyes, plotting my next move.
I smile at the idea I get and begin reaching for a book far out of my reach.
“Az? Can you help me?” I mumble, but my reaching causes my dress to lift so when he looks over at me he’s met with the most tempting sight he had ever seen. His movements were rigid as he stood up, coming closer but I didn’t move out of his way, just continuing to jump for the book. “The green one,” I gestured to the dusty spine and he nods, easily grabbing it for me but once I stop reaching for it I settle flat onto my feet, the curve of my ass coming back to press against his hips. He let out a quiet, low grunt that I wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wasn’t right behind me.
I turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. He holds the book I had no interest in reading out to me, his white knuckling grip proof of his restraint.
“Thanks, Az,” I take the book and he nods with a grunt before going back to his chair, sinking into it with a slightly defeated demeanor, his pitiful expression making me smile.
I bound over to his chair, settling myself on the armrest, my legs draped over his as he continued to ignore me. I place a hand on his bare shoulder and begin massaging the tight area.
"You're sore Az," I mumble. "Maybe we should take a bath?" I tilt my head. His face remains stoic, but he is gripping his book like the edge of a cliff.
I move my hands lower, to his shoulder blade where I could knead the knot of muscle there. "What do you think? I'll even wash your wings." I brush my fingers over where his wings began at his muscular back. He jolted, his book slamming shut and his head whipping to me with a wide lust-filled gaze. "Is that a yes?" I chuckle. He only narrows his eyes, like a silent interrogation. "Az, I'm going to need some words." I place a hand on his cheek.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" He says through his teeth.
"Doing what?" My voice was innocent, if he didn't know any better he'd be buying it.
"I just know those training sessions are so long and hard, I thought it'd be nice to reward my mate." My selected words weren't helping his case.
“What do you know?” He says the words like a threat and I giggle nervously.
“Are you alright Az? You’ve been acting weird all morning,” I observe and a muscle in his jaw feathers as he tightens it shut, I run my fingers down that very jaw, feeling it flex under my touch as he attempts to read me. “Are you worried about something? You know I’m always willing to help you relieve your stress,” I hum, slowly slipping into his lap, straddling over his hips and his eyes just follow the action, admiring the way I fit so perfectly on top of him.
“No, love I’m fine,” He defends and I dip down, trailing kisses down his neck, finding his pulse point and swiping my tongue over the area.
“You sure, there’s nothing I can do for you?” I tease my hips over his erect length, painfully straining against his pants. I return to the area of his neck, sucking hard as he attempts a reply.
“No, I, fuck— love, I’m fine,” He curses and a smile curves my lips in triumph.
“Alright,” I pull from his neck. “If there’s anything you want me to do I’ll do it, okay?” I stress my words with a slight lift to my brows and he nods hesitantly. “I think I’m going to take a nap, why don’t you join me? It could help call your nerves?” I offer and he nods, thinking it a good idea to sleep through the rest of this stupid bet until one of his brothers gives in but by gods was he wrong.
I get off his lap and grab his hands after he sets his book down, pulling him up and then guiding him to our bedroom with an effortless sway of my hips they had his hands tightening on mine.
Once we were in the comfort of our bedroom he shut the door behind us and I let go of his hands in favor of grabbing the straps of my nightgown and dipping them from my shoulders, allowing the sheer fabric to pool at the floor, revealing my lingerie set to him entirely.
“What are you doing?” He grits through his teeth, I look back at him and I nearly laugh. He was backed up against the door like prey trapped in a lion's den. I smirk at him and crawl into our bed.
“That nightgown is too itchy to sleep in, this is much better,” I sigh and he swallows thickly, slowly approaching our bed like it might explode at any sudden movement.
He eventually strips down to his boxers and slides into the sheets beside me, I waste little time before throwing myself over him like a second mattress.
My legs intertwine with his, my arms wrapping around the back of his neck, my body pressed to his. He flexed at the feeling of my breasts brushing against his bare chest.
“Are you always this touchy?” He said and I asked, pulling him impossibly closer.
“You don’t like it?” I feign a pout and he pales, brows creasing.
“No, I’m sorry my love I just, I hadn’t noticed it until today,” He stumbles over his words, making my frown turn into a sickeningly sweet smirk.
“You’re so cute Az,” I mumbled, leaning up and pecking his lips tenderly. “I love you,” I whisper so softly that if he wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But he did, and it wasn’t the lingerie, or the perfume, or even kissing his neck that made him snap, no, it was those three words that he thought he’d never hear romantically, and I just gave them to him so casually he thought the world stopped spinning for a moment.
“Oh, fuck it,” He grumbled before crashing his lips onto mine, the tension leaving my body as he rolls over me and settles between my legs. His kiss was starving, like he couldn’t get enough, he had been craving me all day and ignoring that feeling but now it was all crashing down onto him at once and it was impossible to get enough. His kiss was all-consuming as his thumb came to my chin and opened my mouth manually, his tongue slipping inside without forethought. My tongue met his just as quickly, they didn’t battle but they danced around each other, a steady balance of give and take between us.
“You have no idea how much I need to fuck you,” He pants onto my lips and I smile.
“What are you waiting for?” I tease and he shakes his head.
“No, it’s not making love, I need to fuck you,” He warns and a primal part of me loves the tone of his voice, the neediness of his words.
“C’mon Az don’t be shy, fuck me already,” I plead and he moves from my lips down to my neck, his mouth mapping every expanse of skin he can find.
“You’re evil,” He sighs against my chest as I arch my breasts into his face.
“You ignored me all morning, you’re the evil one,” I claim and he smirks.
“I’m sorry baby, let me make it up to you,” He hums, then moves lower, so much lower until his breath was fanning against my inner thigh and he was leaving hickeys trailing up to my heat. His eyes glow golden as he looks up at me, pure lust as his expression.
"Please." I nod my head and he's like a fucking beast ready to have a full-course meal.
He wastes no time, not one second was I not being pleasured. Scarred fingers dip into the waistband of my panties, pulling at them with a force that makes them tear. His breath fans over my slick and I arch up, grabbing onto the sheets to keep myself steady.
He lifts a leg over his shoulder and a long swipe of his perfect tongue passes through my folds. It all happened so quickly, how soaked I was for him. I could feel him smiling against my cunt, as if he was craving the taste of me all day and finally got it on his tongue, his tongue that was swirling over my clit in tight circling motions.
I mewled, my back arching as fingers swiped through my sex, lubing himself with my ecstasy before entering two long fingers where I needed him most.
"Oh fuck," I breathed out, my head falling back against the shelf, it was all so fast, so needy.
"You’re so perfect like this, spread out like a good girl who can’t wait to be eaten," His baritone voice against the apex of my thighs reverberated up my spine making me shiver.
"Mhm," I nod helplessly, relishing in the feeling of his scars rubbing against my sensitive walls, those scars that added so much to the feel of his fingers inside of me, toying with that spongy bundle of nerves that was so relentless for more.
I moaned his name repeatedly, grinding down on his hand and his face as he sucked and licked at my clit. The stimulation was too much and I was hurdling toward a release.
"Az, I'm gonna—" My breath gets caught in my throat as he lays his tongue flat against my folds, his nose digging into my clit.
"I know baby, go ahead." Cold air fanned against my slick and my hands twined into his hair, forcing his face into my cunt as I ground my hips up onto his tongue, matching the thrusts of his fingers as that knot in the pit of my stomach tightened. He groaned at the feeling of me shoving his face into my heat, letting out a grunt as he ruts his hips down onto the bed, needing to be inside of me.
"Cum on my tongue." His voice was a demand, the kind of voice that made people fear him, the kind of voice that had me unraveling on his fingers, just like he ordered.
A string of moans escaped me, my head lolling back as euphoric waves crashed into me. He supported my hips since my legs were rendered useless from shaking too damned much. He gave gentle kitten licks to my now overstimulated cunt, allowing me to gently come down. He slowly lifted from between my thighs, slick coating his lips and he licked them clean, as if savoring the taste of me.
He brought his mouth to mine, allowing me to taste myself as I threw my arms around his neck carelessly, pulling his weight down onto me, needing to be entirely consumed by him as I sampled myself off his tongue.
“Fuck me Az,” I murmur.
“I won’t be able to control myself,” He shakes his head but I didn’t care, I needed more, needed his heavy cock sheathed inside of me.
“I don’t want control, I want you feral,” I beg and something primal sparks in his gaze, a slow smirk forming over his lips.
“On your stomach then,” He orders and my chest fills with both nerves and excitement as I do as he says, flipping over and hiking up onto my knees, my pussy throbbing in anticipation as I straddle my legs, my body forming a perfect crescent moon as I arched my ass up, arms supporting the rest of my body so I don’t fall into the pillows.
His hands come to my hips, dragging from my waist to my thighs, over the curve of my ass, then repeating. He was savoring the feel of me, the view I was so generously offering him.
The rustling behind me hinted that he had freed himself from his boxers and I was proven correct when his leaking tip pressed into my folds. I whimpered at the feel of his head running through the expanse of my pussy, pre-cum mixing with my arousal, the natural lubricant preparing him for his entrance.
He leans over me, his chest slick with sweat as his lips come beside my ear, pressing kisses to my shoulder. “You going to be good?” He hums and I nod with a whine. Shadows twine around my wrists, bounding them down onto the bed forcefully. “Three taps if it’s too much alright?” He says and I nod, closing my eyes in a slow blink, mentally preparing myself as he aligns his cock to my slit.
Slowly, he pushes himself in and I take every inch with a never-ending stream of euphoria. His movements started slow but he was right, he couldn’t control himself and his thrusts quickly turned impossible to keep up with.
A moan tore from my throat as he finally managed to stuff himself completely inside of me, his balls slapping against my sopping folds, the arousal dripping down my purple-marked thighs. “Az,” I mewl, throwing my head back as he continues his relentless pace, his thrusts rough and hungry and everything I had ever craved.
“M’yours, I’m all yours,” I sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the intense feeling of him nestled so deep inside of me. “That’s right, my perfect slut to ruin,” He grunts and my back bows into his chest at the words, making him hit me deeper. He curses and goes so much faster at the new angle, every other drive into me left a soft whimper slipping from his throat, his noises so quiet yet so close to my ear and allowing me to hear just how much I was affecting him.
I clamped down on his thick length, slowly grinding my hips down onto his, gradually growing quicker and meeting each of his thrusts.
If I thought he was savage on the training mats then he must’ve been untamable when pummeling every inch of him into my puffy pussy that pulsed at each movement.
“Gods, Azriel,” I scream his name, his pace relentless as my mind loses thought, becoming incoherent to anything but the way he shoved himself into me, past that bundle of nerves and kissing up against my cervix. A ring of my arousal formed on the base of his cock. “That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl,” He sighs, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear and making me squeeze around him, needy for more.
He loves the visual of me splayed out for him, swallowing his cock, hips clapping against mine each time he rams into me with an unmatched force, each of them landing perfectly on the tip of him grinding against the most sensitive part of me as I convulsed, my legs spreading wider as I sink lower, making his thrusts faster, harder. Tears roll down my cheeks as I continue to take it, taking all of him without hesitation. “Your perfect fucking pussy is so— fuck s’gripping me so tight,” He grinds out and I know from the underlying whine of his voice that he’s close, and thank gods for it cause I doubted I’d last another moment with my sanity.
“Az, please, please,” I cry, unable to say anything else as he continues to hit home every, single, time. “So full, Az,” I murmur, my head heavy with lust as he fucks me senseless. “Yeah? All you can think about is my cock, isn’t that right?” He purrs beside my ear and I nod fervently, agreeing to whatever he wants me to do, I just needed more.
Shadows listen to my silent request and brush down my stomach teasingly, feeling the way Azriel pumped into me so deep you could see him in my abdomen, the silky darkness curling downward and coming to my clit, making me gasp in ecstasy.
His fingers join his shadows, scooping through my folds and gathering my arousal before smearing it along my clit and then rubbing it harshly in tight little circles that left me defenseless. My entire body obeyed his touch as his ministrations continued. “Fuck, need to come Az, please,” I whine, feeling that coil tighten until it was bordering on snapping. “Come for me, wanna see you milk my cock,” He nips at my shoulder and thrusts forcefully inside of me, his head ramming into my cervix so very close to my womb, his fingers dig into my clit rougher, his calloused fingers providing so much more friction. Saliva pools in my mouth as my orgasm crests and I finally feel that immense relief I’ve been craving all morning. “I’m coming, m’comin—” I was cut off by a lewd moan, rapture surging up and down my body as I gush around his cock, white-hot pleasure consuming me.
I lay beneath him as I slowly come down from my climax but his movements don’t cease as I jolted in over stimulation, his shadows eased off my clit allowing relief but my pussy wasn’t given the same treatment, he continued to bury himself inside of me, harder, faster, deeper.
I whine, not daring to reject him like his perfect doll, clenching at the sheets as he ruts into my aching cunt. “Fill me up, Az, want your cum so bad,” I whimper and he smiles against my neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up ‘til it’s leaking out? Stuff you full?” He asks and I mewl, lewd sounds rolling off my tongue without permission.
“Mhm,” I nod, writhing against the sheets at the intense feeling. I clench hard around him and he twitched, letting out a low grunt and without another warning, his warm seed released and spurted from his cock, into my cunt. He moaned, his sounds equally arousing as his movements inside of me. “You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” He pants, hands roaming along my waist as he slowly pulls himself from my slit, a whimper leaving my throat at the emptiness he left me with. He stares down at the apex of my thighs, where his cum seeped out of me, mixing with mine.
I flip onto my back and stare up at him panting with a drunken smile, my pussy throbbing as I come down from that stimulation.
I tremble as his fingers brush up my inner thighs, gathering any liquid that escaped me and then pushing them back into my cunt with ease. I gasped, my back arching, it was too much, it was all too much. And I loved every moment of it.
He lazily fingered my pussy, his languid movements making me babble in protest. “I know baby but we can’t let any of this go to waste, can we?” He hums and I shake my head no with a pout. “That’s right, m’ gonna fuck you all day, make you feel so good,” He said and my body tremors at the promise of his voice, and I knew immediately walking would be impossible tomorrow.
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thewriterg · 7 months
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𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰
pairing(s); simon riley x fem!reader, reader x toxic family
summary; You tried to keep it together to keep him away from it to not get attached but it only take one situation for you to come crumbling down reaching out to simon for comfort —angstober day;14—
word count; 900+
warning(s); age gap, sweetheart is her/your own warning, thinking college student reader so like early twenties and simon is about mid to late forties, arguments, crying, angst, kisses, pet names, mention of violence, simon abt to risk it all, and language
playlist; nothings new by rio romeo
A/n:—GIFs; @astrolux111 & @silenthqll— GIF does not determine race
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Simon was up it didn’t take much to wake him and when he heard the footsteps approaching his flat front door he was up the handgun from his scratched wooden nightstand that he’d bought off some older man who he was sure had passed to the unknown by now
The rough knocks on his door frame were demanding and rushed as if the person behind the wood was on time crunch he approached the door the firearm clutched in his hand his finger taking no time to rest on the trigger his hand was on the nob before he swung the door open his eyebrows furrowing not expecting to see what was in his line of sight
Your eyes were red and puffy tear streaks stringing your face your hair out of place as well as your shifted clothes Simon swiftly setting down his defense on standing table next to his door grabbing your arm to bring you into the shelter of his home he checks over your body to find nothing alarming but the soaking wet clothes clinging to your body
“S-simon” Is all you can get out as your body racked with sobs you shoulders hunched and he wraps an arm around you littered with tattoos your face hidden in his chest covered by the cotton tshirt that was a little small on him your cold wet clothes transferring onto his as shushes you slowly moving you into his bedroom sitting you on his mattress slipping your drenched shirt over your head as you sniffle your head throbbing from the continuous tears and energy spent you didn’t realize you were dressed in dry attire until you were getting picked up and suddenly the weighed down fabric wasn’t overwhelming you anymore your legs wraps around the blondes torso lying your head on his shoulder you body still shivering as you felt yourself dip onto his worn mattress rubbing his hands down your goosebump covered arms
“Come on love what’s the matter with my sweet girl, hmm? Tell Si what’s the matter” Something triggers in you causing more streams of tears to fall down your face and you try to speak choking out incoherent words and sniffles simon rubs a hand over your hair pressing a kiss your forehead his brain screaming at him to to go punch the nearest punk out on the street because there has to be something, something major to keep you acting this way
“I don’t want you to leave me” You body wracks you chest feels like it’s gonna cave any minute you feel like your airway you’ll be cut off and your sound will be free from your body
“Sweetheart it’s gonna take more than a few tears to get rid of me, matter of fact you won’t be able to you understand?” You nod your head before your spewing everything weighing your chest down to the floor about you family and how they make you feel more down then you’d ever been without meaning to the situation I particular causing your weaker construction to tip over and collapse your siblings couldn’t keep their hands out of your things and this time it had did it you’d been saving for a new laptop for class it cost more than you liked to admit and your sister god you loved her but she was at the age where she couldn’t keep her hands off of thing your things to be exact and long story short your laptop was broken in your sisters hands you berated her scolded her it was the least you could do for the trouble she caused you
When your parents arrived home you expected them to finish the job rip your sister a new one she ran into your father arms rambling of how mean and what a monster you are and even after you told your parents about what she had done she’s barely get a slap on the wrist you were older you shouldn’t yell at the younger ones defending your honor and standing your ground got you yelled at a stinging mark on your cheek
“My h-head hurts” You whimpered after a moment of silence and it was true you didn’t know how long you’ve been crying for and your head felt like it was going to explode Simon sets you down on the mattress briefly your head still spinning and pounding in your ears he leaves and returns again two pain killers that look like a spec of nothing in his palm he sets and on your cheek gently prying your jaw open setting the drugs on your tongue before you swallow the he praises you for it and your realize how much of a all time low you are
“Come on sweetheart no more tears you know it’ll make it worse” This time you’re not sobbing from the pain your chest but rather the pain your head hiccups slipping from your lips falling apart in his grasp and he held you like he always will and as he always had
He’d glue all your broke pieces back together
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©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.
NEW; sweetheart and simon headcanons
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emmyrosee · 7 months
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You’ve been sneaking into Kenma’s room for years.
It started when you were very young, having left your gameboy at Kenma’s house after a few rounds of Mario. You managed to toss a few rocks at his window, and once he silently unlocked the door and let you in, you quickly scurried back out hours later with a grateful smile.
Then, you started to sneak through his window. Seeing the flashes of lights at god knows what hours was something you knew meant he was awake, and you’d climb out from your sheets and crossed the street to his place. Again, you’d throw rocks at his window, and when he’d tried to go open the door, he hadn’t expected you scale up the large tree just a few feet away.
Tonight was no different; he’s tapping away wildly on his console while you scurry up the tree in your slippers, smooshing your face against the glass when he finally sees you and opens the window.
You’d finally tumbled in, and he gave you a tired sigh, “you’re annoying.”
“And you’re still playing. I wanted to watch you play.”
“You could’ve just texted me. You left marks on my glass.”
“I needed the exercise. What time do you need me out of here?”
“Kuroo drags me by the ankle out of here by 06:30. Be out beforehand.”
You smirk and nudge his shoulder with yours, causing him to send you a glare before sitting back down on the floor. “Sleep on the bed, help yourself to pajamas.”
“You like him, kenma,” you tease. You see him tense up before he shakes his head.
“No,” he says simply. “I don’t. Not like that anyways.”
“Just not used to you having other friends besides me,” you hum. He huffs in annoyance.
“Are you gonna watch, or do I have to kick you out of my room?”
“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll behave. Only because I hate climbing your tree.”
Kenma doesn’t like Kuroo. Honest! He thinks he’s cute, sure, gets why the girls like him and boys follow him around, he’s fine enough on a scale of emotional and physical attraction.
But Kuroo’s not the one Kenma’s eyes stay focused on. It’s you.
You’re funny, he likes the way you eat foods that you don’t like first, before diving into the favorites after to savor them. You’re cute, and you’re bad at the differences between contexts of words, and you have a little eye twitch that bestows you in a moment of quick thoughtfulness.
You don’t ask him why he’s up so late, you ask him the answers to homework and give him gummy worms as a thank you. You never overstay a welcome, always either leaving before the sun comes up, or staying quiet while you sleep on the bed.
He likes the way your eyes shine when you’re excited, the roll of your eyes when he tells you “no” when you want the answer to be “yes”, the little snickers that slip out at Kuroo’s expense at Kenma’s quick thinking.
“Kenma?”
“Im busy.”
“I want to cuddle.”
The way you want physical touch when you’re tired.
Yeah. As your best friend, he really is bias to that one.
With a groan, he pauses and saves his game under slot 3, shuts down the console before crawling up and into his bed next to you, the cold sheets shooting his nerves until they warm under your shared warmth. You bury your nose in his collar and he takes out his phone for you both to watch tiktok.
“Kenma?”
“Go to sleep.”
“When you marry Kuroo, can I be the ring bearer?”
“If i marry Kuroo, I want you far, far from my ceremony.”
He practically hears you pout, “you’re no fun.”
“I sure am not.”
For someone who has no fun, not one fun bone in his body, he’s amazed at how comfortable you are in his grip and he in yours, fingers fisting his nightshirt until his own eyes grow heavy.
And if Kuroo walked in just a few hours later at 06:30, only to see his best friend cuddling with someone he loves most, he didn’t say anything and closed the door softly behind him.
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jongseongsnudes · 1 month
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kiss me
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bff!jake. 1.6k words. suggestive with a bratty you and a horny jake sim. (part two) (part three)
“hey.”
silence.
“jake.”
more silence.
“jake sim!”
“what?” he says nonchalantly back at you, his eyes still plastered on the screen ahead as his fingers continued tapping away at the keyboard, “what is it? i’m playing-”
“can we go to bed... it’s almost 3 in the morning...”
and the silence continues.
you could only sigh at yourself, knowing just how much he loved gaming but you had hoped he would at least spend a bit of time with you tonight. especially after not seeing each other for the past week.
after an entire week of losing sleep and stressing over assignments, you wanted nothing more than to watch your favourite show while eating take out with your bestie. being with him put you weirdly at ease, his random dad jokes comforted you and his embrace put you to sleep faster than anything.
and he knew this!
yet here you were, having sat on his bed for the past 3 hours while he gamed away with the boys. how someone could stay so focused on the screen for 3 hours, you have no idea but you were now too tired to wait anymore.
“yeah- yeah you go sleep first, i still need to back the 02z boys up in this bitch-” he doesn’t bother looking at you as he says so before muttering off, “turn off the lights if you want.”
sigh.
you came here for a good night sleep and you were going to get it. one way or another.
so you come up with a plan, a rather evil plan you know would have a 98% chance of working in your favour.
a punishment more like it but he doesn’t need to know that.
“alright i’m gonna sleep first then,” you get off the bed and slip out of your over sized shirt, leaving on just your booty shorts and a crop top that barely did its job at covering your hardened nipples.
walking over to your best friend’s desk, you slightly lean over his shoulder to grab his can of soda, making sure to rub your chest on him. just a little. and luckily for you, the man was already in a thin singlet himself so the skin to skin contact immediately caught his attention.
if there’s one thing you know about your best friend is that although he’s no longer a 16 year old boy going through puberty, the man was just always horny. a perv.
on so many occasions, you had caught him staring at you a little too inappropriately. sometimes the man was even daring enough to place a hand on your ass whenever you’d cuddle with him in bed.
but never did you complain because it wasn’t like you didn’t secretly enjoy the attention anyway.
jake is hot, everyone knows that but you weren’t going to admit that to him. not with that big head of his.
“sorry. thirsty,” you take a sip from his almost empty can and release a very unnecessary moan, knowing that the man’s attention was now entirely on you, “damn. i’m gonna grab another.”
you don’t miss the sudden tent in his boxers or rather, it was hard to miss the big bulge that was caused by you. you want to laugh so badly, knowing that your plan was already working.
gently squeezing the back of his neck, you then walk out of the room, a smug grin now on your own face. you’re almost 100% sure that he’s watching you walk away, probably confused to why you’re practically naked in his apartment. yeah you’re comfortable with each other but you’ve always had a top on at the very least.
grabbing a can of beer instead, you hop up on the countertop to wait for the ending of your plan to play out. and as expected, the little puppy really does follow you into the kitchen. he doesn’t say anything but his gaze on your exposed skin was enough to tell you what he was thinking.
he likes what he’s seeing and so do you.
you’ve always found him attractive. from the moment you met him in your first year of college until now, jake sim just had to be the literal definition of your perfect type.
but you’ve never dared to cross that line, the thin line between friendship and there after. because not only was he your bestest friend but the man didn’t seem all that interested in you anyway.
“what’s up? i thought you were gaming?” you say so nonchalantly, even tilting your head like you weren’t already expecting this.
“i uh- um-” he seems distracted to say the very least, his eyes unable to detach themselves from your chest, “nothing. i’m done playing.”
mission success.
the familiar smell of his shampoo immediately fills the air as the man invades your space, a scent you’ve come to love. a scent that drove your mind totally insane.
“are you okay though? you seem... out of it?”
“probably just tired,” he inches even closer to you, his body now practically standing in between your spread thighs. his hands reaches out to rest on either sides of you, his face just inches away as he looks into your eyes.
there’s something different in his eyes tonight, compared to how he usually looks at you. they’re dark and dare you say... seemingly hungry for something.
“yeah? you’re not sick are you?” you pretend to be concerned, feeling his forehead but to your surprise, the man was actually burning under your touch, “wait oh my god, you’re burning. are you okay?”
“i’m fine.”
jake’s voice was already usually low but this tone was something else. one that’s causing an immediate damp spot in your panties.
“okay... then should we go to bed? maybe you just need some sleep, jake sim.”
the visible gulp he makes from the way you say his full name further tells you that you’re close. close to your end goal.
“yeah maybe,” his eyes remain on you as his hand inches closer to your thigh, only slightly grazing the side. he looks slightly hesitant, as if testing the waters and you don’t blame him because you’re doing the same.
“want some? i can’t finish it,” you hand him the beer can, in which he takes and in one single gulp, finishes it. you’ve seen him do that so many times before but just something about this time is making you feel so hot.
you wait for him to move away but the man wraps his arms around your waist instead, pulling you flat against him. you gasp at the sudden move and wrap your own arms around his neck to stable yourself, a move you definitely know he appreciated with the way he’s smirking.
“lets get you to bed, beautiful,” his choice of petname gets you more worked up than you already were, your little act on the very brink of collasping. but you’re unsure if this was even acting anymore... because this was definitely not in your plan.
your legs naturally wrap around him as he carries you off the countertop with such ease. it feels so comfortable to be in his arms, like your body was meant for him to hold.
no one says a thing the entire way to the bedroom but it wasn’t needed. the way he’s watching you and the obvious tension that filled the air told you that perhaps your attraction wasn’t exactly one sided.
jake places you down amongst his sheets not long after and hovers over, freely pressing himself onto you. his hands quickly find their spot on your waist, his fingers gripping into your skin as if scared you were going to run away.
“you’re beautiful,” his head dips into the crook of your neck as he says so, his lips so dangerously close to your skin but he doesn’t go any further. as if teasing you, “so, so fucking beautiful.”
“jake...”
“god when you say my name like that- fuck you’re killing me,” he finally looks up at you again, this time going straight in to kiss you. no pause, no hesitation.
it takes a moment for you to realise that jake was actually kissing you, that this was real and not one of the fantasises you always had about him.
it feels like an explosion inside your body, a feeling you have never gotten from kissing anyone else. not even your ex boyfriends.
it feels so right to kiss him though and that fact scared you.
the man moves away only slightly, just enough for you to catch your breath as he places his forehead against yours.
“tell me to stop and i will,” his tone is stern, a tone you don’t hear much from someone like jake, “or i won’t be able to stop myself.”
the grey area was something you’ve always been afraid of, the thought of a ruined friendship always plaguing your brain. yet in this very moment, you know damn well yourself that this was no longer acting, that this wasn’t apart of your stupid game anymore.
but this was real and your next response was the decider of the relationship between you and jake sim.
“kiss me.”
to be continued.
​2024 © jongseongsnudes on TUMBLR. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST.
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harryspet · 2 months
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bambi eyes (6) r.cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, DUBCON, dd/lg, sugar daddy rafe, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression. little editing, barry doing barry things 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Enjoy!
word count: 4.5k
In which your Daddy finally takes you to the country club.
masterlist
You were reading—slowly but surely. You took each sentence of the chapter book word by word, sounding out each syllable until it made sense to you. With a pink highlighter, you marked over every word you didn’t know the meaning of. You’d ask Rafe about those later or spend some time flipping through the dictionary. You flipped around in the cloud of linens you called a bed, attempting to find another comfortable position. You were reading about a girl with cat-like superpowers and the adventures she went on with her pet cats. 
Lana had told you about all the stray cats she feeds out by her house and how a lot of them will let her pet them once they’ve been around her long enough. You’ve been doing your absolute best to stay on Rafe’s good side, knowing the next thing you’d ask him was if he’d let you get a cat. You knew there were plenty out there that needed good homes, just like you did at one point. 
You didn’t ask him to take you anywhere unless he invited you. And after that lady had that outburst at the grocery store with him, his invites became less frequent. Every week, he took you to ballet practice and straight home. You reminded yourself to be grateful even for that experience since it kept your boredom at bay. When your Daddy called, you came straight away. When he told you to stay in your room, you stayed. When he held your wrist so hard that they bruised, you kept tears from escaping your eyes. When he brought you a present, you thanked him with your words and happily with your mouth. 
A knock at your door caused you to sit up straight. You didn’t ever need to respond with “come in,” as the knock was just a warning that he was coming in, not a request. Rafe eyed you, the crinkles in his eyes letting you know he needed sleep before he looked down at his expensive gold watch. “If I’m not mistaken, I was invited to a one-o’clock tea party and lunch, and my host has yet to retrieve me.”
You palmed your face, your cheeks heating up. “I lost track of time, sorry.” You closed your book, stood, and straightened out your short gingham dress, “Everything should be ready though. Bunny is dressed. I just need help carrying all the guests.”
Before you could leave your book on the bed, Rafe said, “Bring it. I want you to read me somethin’.”
You agreed although the idea made you nervous. You grabbed Bunny, who was dressed in a matching gingham outfit, and then directed Rafe over to your mountain of stuffed animals. Impressively, he grabbed the six stuffed animals in one fell swoop, “Got ‘em, let’s go.”
Now that it was starting to get nicer outside, Lana suggested turning your tea parties into picnics on the front lawn. She’d laid out a floral linen sheet and placed a beautiful flower centerpiece in the middle, along with a wicker basket. You took your stuffed animals one by one from Rafe’s hand, placing them perfectly along the edge of the sheet, “And you sit here, Daddy,” You directed him and waited for him to get comfortable, “I’ll go get the sweet tea and finger sandwiches!” 
“Don’t run!” Rafe shouted after you as you hurried back into Tannyhill. As soon as you were out of his line of sight, you picked up your speed, looking to find Lana. 
You found Lana in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the array of desserts, “These look beautiful, Lana!” You exclaimed as she finished piping pink icing onto the cupcakes. You opened the fridge to grab the pitcher of sweet tea. “Did you make sure to add extra lemons? He really likes extra lemons-“ 
“Yes, I did, I know,” Lana responded, “Don’t be so worried, it’s just Rafe.” 
You set the pitcher on the counter, taking a deep breath, “He wants to hear me read my book, Lana.”
“So? You’ve been doing so well in our lessons! You sound great to me when you’re reading and you’re only going to get better. The long, fancy words will come later,” She lifted the tray of sandwiches and desserts and you took it into your hands, “You’re a smart girl.” 
“I am?” Lana smiled warmly, making sure you were carefully holding both the pitcher and tray. 
“Yes, you are,” She assured you, “Go enjoy your lunch. Afterward, you’ll help me with the laundry, right?”
You beamed back at her, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.” 
When you made your way back to the front lawn, Rafe was where you left him but his phone was pressed to his ear. As soon as he saw you, he said, “---Everyone has dirt. Everyone has a weakness. Find it. I gotta go, I really don’t want to hear about this shit again.”  You carefully set down the tray and pitcher, Rafe having intense conversations over the phone having become very natural to you. 
Rafe let out an annoyed breath, setting his phone down, “Doesn’t it look delicious, Daddy?” You asked, cutting through the tension. 
Rafe nodded, “It does. This is the highlight of my day,” He admitted, “You’re the highlight of my day, Bambi.” 
Your nervousness slowly turned into eagerness as Rafe looked at you. He always looked at you like you were something precious, even if you felt the opposite, and you found that you could easily be yourself around him. Although it seemed you were figuring out who you were every day that you were at Tannyhill. 
You poured Rafe’s drink into an antique-looking glass, one that Lana had entrusted you with taking care of, “Made just how you like it,” You handed it to him and promptly began to hand out the rest of the dishware, making sure Bunny and your stuffed animals had tiny replicas of them. With small tongs, you carefully placed sandwiches on your and Rafe’s plates, “I like pickles now. They aren’t so bad.”
“Oh, thank God,” Rafe responded with his mouth full, already halfway through his first sandwich, “I was really worried there for a second.”
You giggled, “You were worried?”
“I was as soon as you tried one and said you didn’t like it,” Rafe said, which made you laugh more, “This just confirms you’re perfect. And open-minded. And beautiful.”
“Me liking pickles means that I’m beautiful.” You were trying to follow his logic, your cheeks heated in embarrassment, but he interrupted you with a messy kiss.
As you finished up lunch, you found yourself entangled with Rafe, your legs over his lap and leaning against his chest as you opened up your book. You hoped starting with chapter one would make it easier, knowing you’d read it at least five times this morning. Luckily, you now had someone who could tell you the meaning of the words you had the most trouble with. Rafe used the strategy of not only defining the word but using it in an example sentence. 
“Ill-u-min-ate.”
“Every time you walk into a room, you illuminate it with your beauty.” 
“Haz-ar-dous.”
“It would be very hazardous to get between me and my Bambi.”
“Fuh-ruh-strat-ed.”
“Seeing you naked gets me extremely frustrated.”
“I thought you said it meant to angry,” You countered, and you could feel him grinning. 
“Words can mean different things,” He spoke cryptically, “Hey, you know, I’m really impressed with your reading, Bambi.”
You straightened up and turned to look at him, “You mean it?”
“I’m really proud of you,” he nodded. “I wasn’t sure if Lana could help you all on her own, but I think you’re making good progress.” 
You wrapped your arms around him, immediately needing to physically express your satisfaction, your weight effectively toppling the two of you over. Pride was a new feeling that you were getting used to. “Does this mean I could go to a real school? Like in the movies? Maybe law school? Like Elle Woods?” You straddled Rafe, his hands gently exploring the backs of your thighs.
“Are you talking about Legally Blonde?” Rafe’s eyebrows raised, his eyes undoubtedly flashing to a past memory, probably related to his sisters, “Did Lana show you that?”
“It was really good,” You nodded, “How far away is Stanford?”
“Far,” Rafe stated, and you got the feeling he wasn’t explaining as much as he could, “Let’s not  — uh, let’s focus on just reading a chapter book. Once you’re reading like Shakespeare and shit, we can talk about college.” 
“Okay,” You agreed, pressing your nose to his, “How many books do I have to read before we get a kitty cat, Daddy?”
“I see what you did there,” Rafe stared you down. You gave him a mischievous look as you pressed your lower half closer to his. “I think Daddy’s going to need a lot of convincing on that idea as well.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt Rafe’s fingers trailing over your panties, “What can I do to convince you, Rafey?”
You saw the lust in his eyes. That was one nickname he seemed to like even more than Daddy. “Slide those panties to the side and take Daddy’s cock out.”
“But the guards–” You rushed out, and Rafe’s grip tightened on your thighs. 
“You didn’t seem to mind when you climbed on top of me,” Rafe countered, “C’mon, you have to finish what you started, little girl.”
After those words, you tried to ignore the idea of one of Rafe’s men catching a glimpse of what the two of you were doing. You did as Rafe said but as timidly and covertly as possible, sliding your panties to the side and then undoing his zipper. Like Rafe had taught you before, you spit into your hand, rubbing the liquid against your hole and using the rest to lubricate his tip. 
You looked Rafe in the eyes before he could command you to, and Rafe gave you the same proud look that he had on his face when he complimented your reading skills. Rafe sat up on his hands, and as you placed him against your entrance, you made sure the skirt of your gingham dress was fully covering your ass. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you slowly enveloped every inch of him. 
You whimpered into his ear, already feeling overwhelmed. Your thighs burned as you tried to move up and down his length, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing it wrong. You and Rafe didn’t often have sex in this position, and if you did, Rafe would just end up pinning your hips in place and thrusting up into you. In this position, you were almost in complete control, and it made each sensation feel even more heightened. 
“Grind into me,” Rafe spoke huskily, “It’ll feel better that way.”
You started to roll your hips against him, and instantly you felt something building within you. With that motion, you could feel your clit rubbing against him. As you controlled the speed and how deep he was inside of you, you adjusted it entirely to your liking, and it surprised you how good you made yourself feel, “You gonna make yourself cum on my cock, Bambi?”
You gave him a shaky nod, “Y-Yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. Cum for me.”
You whimpered into his ear, suddenly burning up even though you were directly under the sun. “Thank you, thank you,” you muttered breathlessly. “Thank you, Rafey.”
“Look at you,” Rafe said, “My grateful little girl is squeezing me so good. Keep going, baby.”
Rafe squeezed you tightly in his arms like he was hugging you as you felt him fill your insides. “Fuck,” Rafe grunted in your ear, “Didn’t know you were so good at that.”
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Rafe was doing something he promised himself he’d never do. 
Maybe this would’ve been an option at the beginning of their relationship when he wasn’t so attached. The idea of doing this now … every fiber of his being was telling him that this was wrong. “Everybody has a weakness. You told me that, right? I did some digging. Some super fucking deep digging,” Barry had started. 
Atlantic Crest Properties is one of Cameron Development’s biggest rivals both on the island and the mainland. Nathaniel Sterling, the CEO, was one of Ward’s closest friends, but since his death, Rafe had struggled to maintain Nathan’s favor. In fact, he disliked Rafe so much that he was purposely starting to poach Cameron Development’s construction laborers and spreading misinformation about the company’s financial status. 
Rafe had worked hard to dig the company out of debt, and Sterling was preventing future investors from giving the company a chance, “There’s this high-end bar on the mainland that he always visits, placed called the Platinum Parlor. This guy is there every weekend, at least. One of my boys tells me that the place is basically a front for a swingers club. They won’t let you in unless you’re a member, and there’s like secret codes you use to, you know, get access to what you’re looking for.”
“Get to the point, please.”
“Basically, he’s a freak. He always asks for a girl named Venus. My boy was telling me this, and I realized I knew that girl; she used to buy from me. I rode over there looking for her before her shift started, and I offered her some powder for some information. She couldn’t tell me everything, but he’s shown her videos of him doing some stuff, and he always asks that she wear pigtails, a plaid skirt, glasses, the whole school-girl look …” Rafe listened as Barry delved further into all the debauchery he’d heard. 
“...what are you implying, Barry?”
“I’m trying to say you have the perfect tool to solve yo’ problem. This is the only thing the dude gets off on, and I know his wife ain’t home dressing up for him. You have the most innocent girl in the world, and she actually likes wearing her hair in pigtails.”
“I know you’re not telling me I should let him fuck her–”
“No, no, Rafe! I’m saying that you can let him think that he can for as long as you need him to. That’s your in.”
“Fuck, I don’t wanna do that.”
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done, country club.”
Barry was right about that. 
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You liked the way the Kooks dressed, and they all seemed to exude happiness. They matched and coordinated every piece of their outfits, and even the ones playing sports had at least one piece of expensive-looking jewelry on. 
Rafe’s black polo and khaki shorts were nicely pressed, and he looked every bit like a seasoned golfer. He also gripped the golf cart’s wheel in one hand, carefully and quickly navigating the expansive green course. 
After you made your first stop, Rafe started by showing you the basics of acting as his caddy. He pointed at the clubs he would most likely be using and made you practice grabbing them. He also placed you in charge of keeping up the scorecard, slowly explaining all the numbers you were meant to help keep track of. You quickly learned this was a more complicated game than you imagined, and you weren’t sure how much fun it would actually be to play it.
Still, you were overjoyed that Rafe had even invited you out of the house to the country club, of all places. You spent a total of two hours deciding what to wear that morning until Rafe ultimately made the decision for you, choosing a short-sleeve, collared white dress. He also helped you tame your hair into two high ponytails wrapped in pink bows. As soon as you saw how cute you looked, you made sure to ask Rafe if they made golf dresses in Bunny’s size. 
You watched intently as Rafe stepped up to the first tee, positioning his feet and adjusting his grip on the club with practiced ease. With a smooth swing, he sent the ball soaring through the air, landing neatly on the fairway with a satisfying thud.
“Wow,” Your mouth hung open as you watched, “That was amazing, Rafey!”
“You wanna try it?” 
Hands behind your back, you nervously stepped closer, “Relax,” Rafe said, “I’m gonna help you.”
The actual golf club was much heavier than you were expecting and probably too tall for you, but Rafe adjusted your position accordingly. You felt him pressed against your back, his strong arms enveloping your frame and his hands wrapped around yours. “You’re always going to start with a tight grip, and then it’s all about your stance.” Rafe placed his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart until they were about shoulder-lengths apart, “Bend your knees for me, sweet girl.” 
“This feels … hazardous,” You tried and you felt Rafe’s chest vibrate as he chuckled. 
He stepped back from you, “Try bizarre,” You nodded, mouthing the word quietly, but kept your stance, “But you look great. Now, for the backswing. When you swing, you’re going to keep your arms straight and shoulders relaxed, and I want you to turn your upper half until the club is all the way back.”
You tried to follow his list of instructions, but Rafe ended up grabbing ahold of you again to demonstrate the motion, “You’re going to let the club flow naturally through the ball,” He guided you until you were ready to entirely give it a go, “You got this, Bambi.”
You obeyed Rafe’s final instruction and were surprised that you actually hit the ball, although it landed about five feet in front of you. “Look!” you jumped from excitement. 
“You did it,” Rafe grinned, “Wanna try again?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but your voice trailed off as another golf cart approached. Instinctively, you closed the gap between you and Rafe. 
“Mr. Cameron!” An older gray-haired man, maybe in his 50s, approached, grin hidden partially by a thick mustache, “So lovely of you to grace this fine club with your presence after so many years.”
His deep and commanding voice soon matched his stature as he climbed out of the cart. A shorter, younger man was riding in the passenger side. A gold name tag was pinned to the left side of his chest. “Mr. Sterling,” Rafe greeted back, and you looked up to see a tight, slightly painful grin on his lips. “From what I’ve heard, you frequent this place a little too much. Do they have a reserved parking spot for you yet?”
Mr. Sterling let out a pinched laugh.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” 
It was then that the tall man made deep, soul-searching eye contact with you, “Bambi, this is Nathaniel Sterling. He owns Atlantic Crest Properties, which operates here on the island. Nathaniel, this is my girlfriend, Bambi.”
Nathaniel reached out a hand, and you officially felt you’d been thrown into the spotlight. You hadn’t interacted with anyone outside of Tannyhill or your ballet class. Rafe nodded slightly, signaling that it was okay to accept his hand. The man’s grip was strong and calloused.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bambi,” He greeted you. 
“Hi,” You spoke softly, “You do work like Rafe does?”
“Oh, yes, and much better, sweetheart,” You smiled, believing he was trying to make a joke, “I saw your swing on the way up. With some more practice, I can see you becoming a pretty good player.”
“Really?” Your eyes widened. 
“Rafe’s gonna have to get you your own set of clubs,” Nathaniel smirked. “Or maybe you can have my daughter’s since she only uses them sparingly anymore.”
“That would be–” The words came out faster than you could stop them, “That’s a really kind offer, Mr. Sterling.” 
You looked up at Rafe, excited by the offer, “I’m sure I can afford a new set,” Rafe stated. 
“Anyways,” Mr. Sterling coughed to clear the tension, “If the two of you aren’t too exhausted after your game, you should join me at the Steakhouse for an early dinner. Why waste the opportunity for us to catch up.”
You got a similar feeling to when you were around Barry and Rafe, like the two of them were having a conversation with their eyes. Mr. Sterling seemed intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to see more of this place. 
“Sound good,” Rafe agreed, which you were grateful for, “We’ll see you there.”
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After playing a few more holes and Rafe finishing your crash course on golf, he started showing you around. There were two Olympic-sized pools, a spa, daycare, and gym, and they even offered horse rides along the beach on special occasions. The two of you explored a women’s boutique—well, you explored it while Rafe had a conversation over the phone with Barry. You noticed Mr. Sterling’s name come up a few times but became distracted when you saw the perfect dress. 
Although you thought Rafe might say it was too fancy for dinner, Rafe immediately called the attendant over so you could try it on. It was princess style, with short sleeves tied with cream-colored ribbons and a skirt flowing out in three tiers. The attendant helped you into the corset, and you were practically locked in by the time you showed Rafe. 
He was already leaning against the payment counter, black card in hand. “We’ll take it; she’s going to wear it out,” he said as you twirled around. “You want anything else?”
“No,” You spoke breathlessly. “This is perfect. Thank you, Rafe!”
Rafe entwined his fingers with yours and held your hand throughout the entire walk to the restaurant. You found Mr. Sterling waiting for you at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with large windows on either side of him that looked out onto the beach. As he waved you over, Rafe leaned down to whisper to you, “You don’t have to say anything or answer any question you don't want to.” 
“Okay,” You said softly, knowing he was just looking out for you. 
“Rafe, Bambi,” He said as the two of you approached. You took the seat closest to the window after Rafe pulled it open for you, “How was the rest of your game?”
Despite the words he just told you, Rafe looked at you first as if he wanted you to answer, “It was really good,” You replied, trying to maintain a certain level of confidence, “I learned a lot and, uhm, the weather was just really perfect today.”
“I agree, it’s a beautiful day, and let me also say how beautiful you look in your dress, Bambi,” You had to glance away, a reflexive gesture to hide the embarrassed gesture that reached your face. You smiled despite the fact that your face was trembling, “It’s new?”
“Y-Yes, thank you. That’s—" You remembered the menu sitting on the table in front of you, and then you realized you were far too nervous at that moment to try to read it. “Do they have ice cream here?” you blurted out. 
Rafe’s lips parted, but Nathaniel interrupted, “I think you’ll be quite happy with the dessert selection. Order whatever you like,” You felt Rafe’s hands suddenly on your thigh. He was trying to hide how tense was, but it wasn’t working. 
When the waiter approached, Rafe ordered for you, which you were grateful for: chicken fingers, mac and cheese, and apple juice. He then went ahead and ordered you a dessert called strawberry crunch ice cream cake. 
Rafe and Nathaniel bantered for a while about business and things related to Kildare that you didn’t fully understand. For the most part, you focused on enjoying your food and addressing Nathaniel whenever he addressed you. Some of your nervousness washed away because the man seemed to smile and laugh in reaction to every word that you said as if you were the most amusing thing in the world. 
Halfway through the dinner, you leaned over to whisper in Rafe’s ear. 
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“I need to go potty.”
Rafe nodded before pointing across the restaurant where he knew the bathroom was, “It’s over there. Go straight there and come back, please,” Rafe felt you squeeze his hand before you got up from your seat. 
Usually, he’d love to watch you walk away, but his eyes were entirely fixed on Nathaniel, who was watching you intently. 
“She’s quite … cute,” the man said sincerely, as if he were thinking deeply. “She’s so pure … hard to believe she was a whore when you found her.”
Rafe squinted, nodding his head, “She was never a whore, Nathaniel.”
“She knows how to fuck, doesn’t she?” 
“She comes from unfortunate circumstances, yes, but I’d appreciate it – greatly – if you didn’t call her that,” Rafe tone was sharp as he leaned closer, elbows on the table, “I really want to work something out with you, Nathaniel, but you’re not going to treat me like I’m just Ward’s son. I want something from you, and you want something from me. I’ll respect you if you treat me the same.”
“You’ve grown attached,” Nathaniel seemed to brush off Rafe’s intensity, “I apologize. Really, I’ve spent a short time with her, and I’m already quite enamored. I admire you, Rafe. You’ve trained her quite nicely.”
“She’s a good girl,” Rafe tried to set his emotions aside, and the feelings he had about you that seemed to make him go crazy. He needed to be cold. He needed to be the Rafe who’s able to pull a trigger and not feel any remorse, “She’s under tight lock and key. She’s under my watch, and I know exactly where she is 24/7.”
“Cameras?” Nathaniel’s interest peaked. 
“In her playroom,” Rafe shrugged.
“Huh,” The man’s jaw clicked, “I want pictures and videos, at the very least.”
This is what Rafe wanted but he couldn’t help but feel pause. The man in front of him was desperate. He could own Nathaniel with the knowledge he was giving up and the secrets that you could probably draw from in. It was dangerous involving you, but what Barry said was true, you were going to open doors for him. 
“At the very least?”
“Yeah, everything after that we can negotiate.”
Rafe could only think for a minute because you were happily skipping back towards the table. Your hands were cradled together, open towards him and holding peppermints, “Look, Rafe, they had a whole bowl of free mints in the bathroom,” You chirped, “I’m going to save some of these for Lana if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s fine.” Rafe smiled at you. “I was just telling Nathaniel about the amazing tea parties you like to throw.”
As you plopped down in your seat, your princess-style dress puffing up and then deflating like a balloon, your eyes widened. “It’s really fun!” you added. “Next time, I want to paint tea-cup handles. You should come, Mr. Sterling. Is that okay?”
The two men exchanged glances before Nathaniel narrowed his eyes back on you, running a hand over his face to smooth down his mustache, “That sounds delightful, sweetheart.”
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snoowpee · 2 months
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comfortable - p.js
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Pairing ⇾ boyfriend!jay x girlfriend!reader
Genre ⇾ smut
Warnings ⇾ unprotected sex (don’t make stupid decisions!), fingering, teasing, marking, oral (both giving & receiving), hair pulling, cum eating, overstimulation, squirting, dacryphilia, name calling (whore, cockslut), spanking, slight praise kink, size kink, attempted cockwarming, jay asks reader if she wants to use her safe word. I might’ve missed something but that’s the gist of it, enjoy!
Summary ⇾ your boyfriend is being really clingy while you try to watch your favorite show.
Word count ⇾ 2.0k words
Playlist ⇾ H.E.R. - Comfortable.
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Your relationship with Jay has its share of being touchy, it may be intentional or unintentional, but it was fairly touchy overall. So when he comes over and sees you binge watching your favorite show, Money Heist, all he does is engulf you in a hug. Though with Jay being touchy comes the need to be comfortable, very comfortable. Leading you to your current position, on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. You weren’t gonna lie, when it comes to this whole being comfortable shit, Jay knows what he’s doing.
After a few more episodes, you felt one of his large hands crawl up underneath your shirt. You didn’t mind it though, knowing Jay has developed this habit of fondling or playing with your breasts whilst you’re sitting on his lap. You felt his lips touch the skin of your neck, and again you didn’t mind. 
“Babe, I wanna lay down.” Jay whispered, lips touching your right ear.
“Wait, give me like two minutes, shit’s about to go down.” You say, too indulged. Jay laughs at your eagerness to finish the episode you’re currently watching. He begins to fondle with your breasts again, busying himself with his phone as he scrolls through it, patiently waiting for you.
“Ok, done.” You turn around to face him, he pecks your lips, making the both of you smile. You get off his lap, laying down on your back.
Jay follows ensuite, positioning his head to lay on top of your breast, wrapping his arms around your torso. You wrap your legs around his upper body, liking the position you’re in. “You smell good,” Jay says, lifting up your shirt to press a kiss on your stomach.
“Thanks, babe,” you say.
The two of you stayed in that position for a while, with you watching your favorite show, playing with Jay’s hair absentmindedly. You were on season four thinking Jay was fast asleep, when you felt him lift your shirt up, kissing the top of your shorts’ waistband. It was an innocent gesture at first, but when he pulled it down a little to reveal your cotton underwear, you knew he was up to something.
“What are you doing?” You pull on the strands of Jay’s hair. He groaned at the action, meeting your gaze. Combing through the strands of his hair, you trace his jaw and ask again, “What are you doing?” 
Instead of answering, he dips his hand inside of your underwear, cold fingers making contact with your folds, causing a stir of arousal within you. He smirked just as you inhaled deeply.
“I don’t know, you tell me. What am I doing?” He moves his fingers slowly, teasing you.
“God, you’re driving me insane.” You wrapped your fingers around his throat, feeling him pull off your shorts with your underwear. He then parts your lower lips, leaning in to lick a stripe through your folds up to your clit.
“Hands up,” he orders, getting rid of your shirt, leaving you completely bare. Jay positions himself in between your legs, kissing your inner thighs in the process.
As soon as he is settled between your legs, he grips your thighs apart, holding you in place as he continues licking your folds. Your hand moves to grip on the strands of his hair, letting out a soft sweet moan, causing his pants to tighten as you continue your small whimpers. 
Jay’s gaze stays on you, watching your face contort into pleasure as he eats you out like a starved man. Your knuckles turn white as you harshly grip his hair, leaving him groaning against your core.
“Jay…” you moan out immediately after he slips a finger into your cunt, your wetness coating his finger from how wet you were. You let out a deep breath when he starts to move his finger. 
He adds a second finger in when you eventually adjust to the stretch, gaining speed with every moan you let out. 
“Babe…” you voiced out, the pitch of your voice higher than usual at the feeling of his tongue flicking against your clit. The knot in your stomach tightens, when Jay adds a third finger in. “Baby…’m c-close!” You attempt to close your legs around him, but the grip he has on you stops the action.
“Cum, baby,” Jay pumps his fingers faster, helping the knot in your stomach come undone. He doesn’t stop his actions, fingering you through your orgasm. 
Jay pulls his cum coated fingers out of your cunt, licking them clean. You felt your core throb as he shamelessly moaned at the taste of you.
“You taste really sweet, babe.” You gasped as you felt his tongue circle around your hole again, barely dipping in. He pulls away, only to do the same thing again, barely licking your hole and then pulling away. Again and again.
Once you had enough of his teasing, you tugged his hair, pulling him closer, his tongue flat against the heat of your cunt. You grind against it, basking in the pleasure, squirming against Jay’s touch, bucking your hips up with how good you’re feeling. As you rode his tongue, your thighs began to shake again, releasing your arousal all over him after a while.
You breathlessly tried to move away from Jay when he stopped you.
“Stop moving,” he says against your cunt. His big hands cup your hips, pushing it down harshly to hold you in place. “Give me another one,” he sternly orders, you quiver under his hold, moaning helplessly when he starts eating you out again.
“W-What! No!” You choked out, a tear escaping your eye at the immense amount of pleasure. “B-Baby…please! Stop! J-Jay…” your mouth hung open, moans pouring out.
“Say the safe word if you really mean it, babe,” Jay waited. 
He waited but he didn’t stop.
He didn’t stop because you did not say it. 
You feel him smirk against your cunt, but you were too overwhelmed with the pleasure his tongue was giving you to care.
“Too much,” you stuttered out, eyes rolling at the back of your head. Suddenly, a gush of fluid came out of you, squirting your arousal all over Jay’s tongue.
“Holy shit,” Jay looks at you, dumbfounded. Once he regains his senses, he starts lapping up your releases, to ‘clean’ you up, careful not to waste a single drop. 
You winced as he kissed your sensitive clit. Jay chuckled, finding your reaction cute. “My whore enjoying herself?” He raises an eyebrow, smirking. You only nodded, too exhausted to be coherent.
“Now…” Jay begins, hands reaching for his back, to pull off his shirt by the neckline, “…you’ve had your fun…” he got a hold on the fabric of his shirt, pulling it off, throwing it to the side right after, joining the pile of your disregarded clothes. “…it’s time to have mine,” he leans in, arms on either side of your body, caging you. 
Jay nibbles on the sensitive part of your neck, “Yeah?” 
It was a rhetorical question, of course, but you couldn’t help but nod. Jay sat up again, pulling the drawstrings of his gray sweats, standing up, getting rid of his bottoms altogether. You can’t help but admire him; melanin skin, toned abs, messy hair all on full display, with his angry veiny leaking cock standing tall and proud. Your mouth watered at the sight. He looked so scrumptious.
“J-Jay…want to suck you off,” you try to sit up with the remaining energy you have left, crawling slowly to the foot of the bed. 
You stay on your hands and knees when you come face to face with Jay’s cock. He runs a hand through your hair till it reaches the back of your head, gripping it.
“Open wide,” he said, tugging on your hair, before thrusting his cock inside your mouth. 
Jay groaned when he felt his tip reach the back of your throat. You tried fitting all of him in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, breathing through your nose, licking the underside of his cock. His hand harshly comes down on the skin of your ass, making you whimper as he slaps your ass repeatedly. 
“What a little cockslut,” he lets out another deep moan. 
“You’re my little cockslut, aren’t you?” 
You tried to nod despite having your mouth full of his cock. Jay shoves his cock further down your throat, making you gag around him, feeling his dick throb against your tongue. You know the way you sputter and drool around him turns him on, especially when you’re all messy and fucked up for him. 
“Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy,” Jay continues his harsh thrusts.
When you feel his cock twitch, you hollow your cheeks and suck even harder, wanting to feel his cum on your tongue. To your dismay, Jay pulls you off of his cock by your hair. 
“Keep your mouth open,” he said. You were quick to oblige, sticking your tongue out, drool dripping down your chin, while gazing up at your boyfriend. “God, you’re so hot,” Jay muttered, lost in his thoughts.
Your lips curve upward into a smile at his compliment. 
In front of you, he pumped his cock faster, the tip hitting your tongue a couple of times. He loudly moaned when he finally released all over your tongue. You swallowed satisfied, not missing the chance to lick him ‘clean’ after.
“Good job, baby,” he kisses your neck, manhandling you to lay on your back. “Can you give me one more?” He pecked your lips, the act seeming innocent in contrast to the actions he’s planning to do to you.
What?
“Are you serious?” You respond with heavy eyelids, you glanced at his half hard cock. You can’t be serious. You sighed. 
“Cockwarming?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, his chest meeting yours.
“Until you can go again?” He asked and you nod as a response, it was hard to talk with the way your throat is hurting. “Yeah?” Jay pecked your lips again, aligning his cock with your entrance. 
You both let out a synchronized moan when he seethes in. 
“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good around me,” he peppers your face with kisses. You giggled as you wrap your legs around him so he can go in deeper. 
You see Jay look down at your tummy with a smile on his face, “look how deep I can go in you.” 
You only understood what he meant when you saw his cock bulging out of your stomach. Oh, fuck.
“Fuck that’s hot,” you said, voice below whisper. 
Jay moves in and out of you slowly, looking at you for confirmation. You give him a small nod as a response, so he continues moving his hips. Jay slips a hand between your bodies, his large hands cupping your tummy, pushing it down. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped, “baby, I can feel you so deep! Keep doing that!” you moan out louder.
Jay grabs onto the headboard, using it as leverage to pound into you, his hips snapping onto yours in an inhumane speed. Tears trail down your cheeks as your eyes roll at the back of your head.
Your nails unintentionally scratch Jay’s back, while he leaves hickies at the valley of your breasts. 
Jay’s hands cupped your breasts, thumb tracing each of your nipples. He playfully bites your left nipple causing you to gasp loudly. 
He fondled your breasts for a while, swirling his tongue around it whilst playfully nibbling it, switching to your other breast to give it the same attention as the other one. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” you breathlessly said.
It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your highs with the way Jay is pounding into you. After a few more thrusts, he pulls out of you to release his load all over your cunt. 
“You’re amazing,” Jay kisses your lips, you smile into the kiss feeling proud and happy at his compliment. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He leaves a kiss on the top of your head, carrying you to the bathroom, to run you a warm bath. 
When you take a hold of his cock, he looks at you.
“My baby wants to go again?”
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© snoowpee | DO NOT COPY OR REPOST.
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dickgraysonsbitch · 8 days
Text
shopping with the batboys ( + bruce )
to my pineapple pizza haters: know you are valid
warnings: none | divider by @cafekitsune | requests open!
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With DICK GRAYSON, the most mundane of shopping trips turns into an expedition—leaving your heart rushing and blood pounding. He shoots you a flirty wink before steadying the grip on his shopping cart. “Ready, sweetheart? Because I don’t think you are. I’ve got the bread isle memorized like the back of my—”
“Go!” You exclaim, snorting when you see the shocked expression on his face, like he wasn’t expecting you to cheat to try to beat him. Hey, he was a super-fit vigilante, how else were you going to get a head start against Nightwing? Pushing off of a rack of magazines, you let out a shout of victory as you grab the milk from the fridge. One down, two to go. You quickly place the eggs into your cart, but not before you make eye contact with your menace of a boyfriend, who smirks at you before grabbing the last bag of whole wheat bread. Damn, he really did have the bread isle memorized like the back of his hand, didn’t he?
He bats his eyelashes at you innocently, but not before flashing you a crooked grin. “I think that’s three, sweetheart. 3-2, if you know what I mean, so…” he smiles, but there’s a glint of mirth in his eyes that absolutely melts your heart.
“I’m still calling a foul. It’s your walk-in pantry, and there’s no way that you didn’t have an advantage over me.” You huff, crossing your arms, trying to replicate the cute-but-hurt puppy dog eyes that Dick seemed to have mastered.
He shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Sorry, but a deal’s a deal. I mean, I guess you could go back on it, but…” he looks up at you, with those eyes that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and probably a physical ice statue as well.
“Fine,” you grumble. “We can have pineapple on your stupid pizza. Do you want cereal for dessert?” The last question is supposed to be sarcastic, but the light in his eyes shifts from mischievous to downright carnal.
“Actually, I was thinking of having something else for dessert.”
Oh, boy.
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You always knew that JASON TODD was going to spoil you rotten, and that was before you found out that he could cook. It wasn’t fair, actually, that he was probably the most gorgeous, intelligent, and caring person that you knew, all while being kick-ass and super talented at… basically everything. To some, God gave in abundance. Sighing dramatically, you propped yourself on his shoulder and leaned against him with your elbows.
His eyes twinkled at your new position. “What’s wrong, princess? Tacos not your scene anymore?” He was lying, obviously, because you demolished tacos like they were your last meal and you were on death row, but you still huffed and buried your face in his bicep.
“Jus’ thinking ‘bout how fuckin’ perfect you are, Jay,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by the muscle that somehow managed to stay defined under a leather jacket. “You’re really awesome, you know that? I’ve never met someone as amazing as you. They should put a picture of you up at the Met—‘cause you’re a work of art, baby.”
It’s obvious that he’s holding back laughter, from the way that his broad shoulders are shaking, but something inspires him to keep entertaining this though. Probably your endless supply of charm. “Yeah, babe? I knew you wanted me just for my pretty face.” It’s interesting, honestly, how his relationship with you made him more comfortable with… all parts of himself.
You slap his chest, (not that it does anything), a s pout, your brows furrowed. “You’re not funny.” He send you a soft smile, something that should be uncharacteristic for a man of his size, but it works on you, like it usually does.
He presses his lips together before hoisting you up onto an empty display, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. “Well then, it’s a good thing I’m pretty.” Within a minute of staring at your unamused face, he’s howling in laughter, snickering to himself like he’s the comedian of the year.
And without a moment of warning, you’re sealing his lips with a kiss, sending a tingle all the way to the tips of your fingers, and he’s parting his lips to deepen it even further. His hands palm just above your ass, and you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes, softly running your thumb over his rough cheek, and it feels like paradise until—
“Hey! I thought this was a roommates only grocery trip?”
You and Jason both roll your eyes at the voice, and with varying levels of intensity, reply in unison.
“Shut up, Roy!”
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Nothing made you shiver like the husky, low voice of BRUCE WAYNE whispering in your ear from behind you. It was an action that sent your poor heart into overdrive, but here, in this shop that was clearly out of your tax bracket (they had mannequins for diamond embellished puppy collars, for God’s sake) it was as if he was doing it just to show that you were at his mercy.
Not a bad place to be, if you thought about it.
“Try on the dress,” his voice is baritone, and he isn’t using his usual, suave business tone. No, this is the voice he uses when he wants something, and when he’s sure that he’s going to get it. It was like a spell was cast on you, and all you wanted to do was exactly what he said. You weren’t sure you really needed a spell for that anyway.
But still, you hesitated. The dress in question was an Oscar de la Renta mermaid cut gown, in pitch black, no doubt matching Bruce’s own personal aesthetic. The only hesitation? The price. You balked instantly when you glanced at the bill for the first time. Shit, you knew that a custom made dress that didn’t even have a tag on it would be more than your yearly rent. “It’s… 15,000 dollars! Bruce, I can’t accept this.”
He frowned, making you notice the soft wrinkles starting to appear on his face. God, that man took way too much stress for his own good. You’d tried warning against it, but when did he ever listen to anyone but himself (and Alfred)?
“Pocket change, darling. And it’s your first gala, I don’t want you to be wearing something you’ve worn before.” He lightly rubs his fingers against your waist, a promise of something else to come once you accept.
“It’s…” you look down. “It’s a lot. Are you sure?”
“Never been surer. Now, why don’t you look at matching jewelry?”
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