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#and then have him join you reluctantly or something
tipsyleaf · 18 hours
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I just finished seeing this tik tok, and an idea popped into my mind…☹️
One day you’re looking through your closet, just organizing and throwing out old things you and Leon don’t really need anymore. There’s a pretty large box tucked under a pile of dust, reluctantly opening it hoping to not find some dead spider or something.
Opening the box, you find so many recordings, cameras, photos, photo books, Polaroids, just filled of you, Leon, and your kiddos. You couldn’t help but get a bit emotional, remembering the time when Violet could barely even walk…Her adorable little baby cheeks, cute and silly poses she’d do.
Now she was all grown up, barely even wanting to take pictures because it was ‘embarrassing’. You’d find a couple of Cecilia as well, not many for Scottie thanks to modern technology and everything being on phone now. It hurt your heart a little bit seeing everything. Videos on old dusty cameras of them running around in the yard while Leon chased them, picking little Violet up in his arms and smothering her with kisses as she erupted into her sweet giggles.
You’d look through all of those for hours, getting a bit teary eyed as you found old pictures of you and Leon together. When the two of you were still young and could do anything without kids, pictures of when he took you to the paramore concerts.
You were grateful for being able to watch your kids grow up; you really were. But sometimes you wished you could just turn back the clock, hold them one last time before they ultimately decided they didn’t wanna be held by mommy anymore.
Let’s just say, Leon found you sniffling in the closet and you rambled to him for what felt like hours. But he just held you and listened, pressing kissed to the top of your head. Like a good husband does.
- Anon! 🎀
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(Live reaction of me tearing up over these fake children growing up... 🎀Anon it's your fault!!!!)
Leon would rub your back, sitting on the floor of the closet as he held you close. You stare down at the old picture from the day Cecilia was born. You remember it so vividly...
Leon coming back into the hospital room with Violet as she excitedly ran over to you holding baby Cecilia, barely an even hour old yet. Leon picked her up and sat her up next to you in bed so she could see her baby sister closer.
"She's got your eyes mommy, just like me!" She squeals, kicking her feet as she moved in closer to your side, cuddling up to you nicely. The flash hit your eyes as you look up, watching Leon take a picture of the moment, wiping his eyes as he sniffed and joined you to greet your baby girl into the world...
"I just want our babies to be babies again..." You take in a shaky breath as you put the picture back and slide the lid back on.
"Sweetheart, they're still our babies. Just bigger."
"I know..." You look up at him, blinking the tears down your cheeks, you can even see he's starting to get a little choked up.
"Violet doesn't even like being seen with us half the time... She's almost 14. Lia's going into middle school in a few months and Scott... He's gonna be talking soon... Why can't they just stay small?" Leon chuckles, smiling affectionately as he kisses your head and helps you up.
"I know. They grew up too fast. But we gotta let it happen."
"Says the man that sobbed when his oldest stopped calling him daddy."
"I know I'm a hypocrite, you don't have to rub it in." He leans in kissing your forehead and rubbing your arms. "C'mon, come spend time with the kids at the dinner table while I finish cooking dinner."
You nod following him out of your room and downstairs, rubbing your eyes as you walk into the kitchen. Violet sitting at the table blasting music over her bright pink headphones while staring at her phone as Lia finishing up a project from her girl scout meeting. Scott makes grabby hands at you from his highchair. You walk over, scooping him up as you look at your two girls, years older now.
Violet with her hair under a black beanie and no longer in pigtails or ribbons and Lia not carrying around her stuffed animals around. Just a cute little bunny bag across herself. You walk over pulling Lia into your side as you lean into Violet giving them both repeated kisses on their heads. Lia squeals as Violet pushes her headphones around her neck. Trying to pull away.
"I love you both, remember that. You'll always be my babies even after you grow up and move out. Even if you're 80 you'll still be babies... Okay?" Violet looks over as Lia just nods squirming out of your hold. You start tearing up again.
"Oh God...." Violet looks over at Leon noticing his own red eyes and nose as he lowers the temperature on the stove.
"Is someone dying? Are you getting a divorce!?" She looks panicked as Leon turns almost snapping his neck in the process.
"No! Violetta, why would you even assume that!?"
"I- I don't know you're both crying!" You chuckle, putting Scott back in his highchair as you hug your oldest.
"No sweetheart everythings fine, mommy's just emotional and you know how your father is."
"A big baby." Lia giggles, smiling as Leon gives her the stink eye from the stove.
"I'll remember that after dinner. No dessert for you."
"Nooo! Daddy please!" Lia shoots out of her chair as Leon turns away pretending not to hear her as she pulls at his shirt. You look at Violet, sniffing again. You cup her face, squeezing her cheeks like you use to when she was little.
"You're just as adorable as when you were 4..."
"That's not creepy at all." Her usual sarcasm, even that's cute at times...
"Can I hold you... Just for a minute please?" Violet looks at her mother, seeing the red in her glassy eyes.
"Yeah... Sure."
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months
Text
teamwork
kinktober, day twenty-six
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a/n: ........I mean, how could i not? it's a classic.
summary: “oh, naughty, naughty you,” Tony crossed his arms with a chuckle, “what were you hoping to get out of this, huh? Sneak in here and seduce the whole team? Is one just not enough for you?” the rest of the men snickered at his mocking quips. 
warnings: reader x pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson), smut, slight dubcon, pro athlete au (even though i know the majority of them are american, i’m just gonna say that they play for a team somewhere else just so that i don’t have to say soccer, it hurts my soul), the old oops i accidentally walked into the locker room trope, gangbang, everyone's a hoe, established relationship, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, handjobs, oral, thigh riding, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, bukkake, spit kink, squirting, impact play, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms
word count: 5400
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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“You were amazing out there,” you purred between pecks as Steve’s firm thigh, slotted between your own, rubbed against your core, your short skirt flaring out over the shorts of his uniform. 
“Thank you,” he chuckled, his lips fluttering down your neck as he uttered, “you know, I think was even better with you in the audience,” nudging his leg more determinedly against you as you melted against the wall he had you pressed against, “like you brought me luck or something.”
Just then, as you felt yourself begin to soak through your underwear and mark your boyfriend’s uniform, someone from further down the hallway poked their head out of a door and shouted, “hey, Rogers!” reeling back from the crook of your neck with a peeved exhaled, Steve cast his glance in the individual's direction, “coach wants a word with you in his office.”
“Alright, thanks,” he nodded before turning his attention back to you, arms firm on either side of your head, cosily caging you in as he spoke, “I’ll be right back,” his leg reluctantly retracted from your warmth, “there is lounge down around the corner there that should be on the quiet side about now if you don’t wanna wait out here,” he offered a vague nod to his left before dipping down to near your lips one last time. 
Smile growing wide at his considerateness, you breathed, “okay,” but the kiss you thought he wanted to give to you never came as his nose just ghosted against your own, seemingly savouring the moment before you felt him shift and his finger disappeared below your skirt, “Steve, what are you-,” but the rest of your sentence never saw the light of day as, with a daring smirk on his lips, Steve swiftly kneeled down before you and snatched your underwear down past your knees, keeping his eyes on yours as he methodically manoeuvred your jelly like legs to steal the sodden garment completely. 
“I’ll come find you in a bit, yeah?” he placed a playful peck right above your knees before straightening back up. 
“Steve!” you hazily giggled as he began to disappear down the corridor. 
“10 minutes, 15 tops!” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away from your stunned form, “then I’m claiming my prize!” 
With a breathy chuckle still billowing from your lips, you pulled out your phone and rounded the corner, scrolling through your options of temporary entertainment as you neared the room that you could supposedly wait in.
Eyes glued to the small screen in your hands, you didn’t even glance up as you reached the first door you approached, not assuming there were any other options, you simply pushed it open and strolled in. 
Fully expecting that you were nearing a couch or something soon, the room you’d blindly entered turned out to not be the lounge you’d thought it was, but instead, the team’s locker room as you swiftly walked straight into a broad and bare chest. 
“Wow, I’m sorry-,” your eyes tore away from your screen to finally discover where you were. Vision growing wide, you stared up at the athlete before you, his golden mane rustling from the collision, “I-I-…”
Blinking up at Thor, your own name even escaped your memory as you found yourself in the very last place you should have wandered into.
From off to the side, you heard the voice of Tony holler, “hey sweetheart, fans aren’t allowed in here,” before leaning closer to the sandy buzzcut beside him and muttering quietly, “I thought they said they had tightened security around here…”
With your feet still frozen to the floor, your mouth hung agape as your eyes glazed over the recognisable individuals throughout the room, all in various states of undress. As Thor’s towering form moved past, walking over to snatch up a towel, someone else dexterously took his place, “wait a second, I recognise you,” you blinked back at the guy who rarely left your boyfriend’s side, “you’re Cap’s new girl, aren’t you?”
“I-I-, yeah,” you stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in here-”
“Oh, but you did,” Bucky teasingly took a step closer. 
“I was, uh, looking for the lounge, and I was just staring at my phone,” you swallowed thickly as someone out of the corner of your eye peeled off their shirt, “I’m so sorry, I'll get out,” but as you whirled around to bolt out of there, you just collided with another individual that had slyly slotted in between you and the only way out of here. 
“You’re cute,” you heard Bucky continue as you blinked up at Pietro, his athletic physique now completely blocking the exit, just as Thor's, the team's goalie, would do before the vast net during an intense game, “isn’t she cute, guys?”
Soft echoes of agreeance bounced off the walls before Pietro smiled down at you, “what’s your name, baby?” his accent sending a shiver straight down your spine. 
“Y/n…” you softly uttered, your heartbeat deafening in your ears, growing and rippling out from where it was still thumping from between your thighs.
“That’s a pretty name,” his eyes washed over your visage, licking it up like he was at a museum. 
“So, tell us, Y/n,” you spun back around at the sound of Bucky’s timbre, “did you really just not pay attention or did you perhaps walk in here on purpose?”
“No!” you squeaked, “I swear, I didn’t-”
“Because I think you were trying to catch a little glimpse,” he teasingly cut you off with a soft tilt of his head. 
“Oh, naughty, naughty you,” Tony crossed his arms with a chuckle, “what were you hoping to get out of this, huh? Sneak in here and seduce the whole team? Is one just not enough for you?” the rest of the men snickered at his mocking quips. 
“No, I wasn’t trying anything, I-,” the rest of your plea got suddenly swapped out with a shuttering gasp as the player sitting on the bench beside you had begun to ghost his hand against the goosebump-ridden flesh of your leg, sneakily twisting his position enough to catch a glimpse as his touch carelessly bushed against your short skirt, making it briefly fluff out enough for him to notice. 
“Hey,” Sam boomed to the rest of the team, “she’s not wearing any panties!”
“She’s not?” Thor turned his head to join the festivity entirely.
“Fuck,” you heard Clint curse gutturally, “you came to the game like that?”
From right beside him, Tony bit down on his smirk, “what a little fucking slut…” 
“No, it wasn’t-”
But before you could manage to convince them, Pietro pushed your form lightly and sent you directly into Bucky’s waiting arms. With your back arched like a ski slope, your short skirt rose up, covering virtually nothing, especially after you’d had your undergarments stolen, and granted the men behind you a pornographic view of the state Steve had left you in. 
Catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Bucky tilted your head up to catch your hazy eye, “why don’t you wait here with us?”
“I-…” you blinked back at him, feeling your chest rise and fall rapidly against his. 
“Rogers won’t mind,” he shook his head reassuringly, fingers shifting to gently caress you’re your heated cheek, “promise.”
“Yeah,” Pietro’s voice resonated vibrantly from behind you once more, “we always take good care of his girls…” 
Utterly spellbound by his ocean gaze, your head nodded fuzzily, “o-okay,” your breaths came in shaky as you spoke, “I guess if you say Steve wouldn’t mind, then I could probably just hang out in here for a bit till he gets back.”
“Great!” Sam clapped his hands together, the sudden noise causing you to jump out of the burly arms that held you. 
Leaning back against his locker, Clint then asked, “so did you enjoy the game?”
“Oh, sure,” with clumsy words flowing from your lips, your eyes traced Thor’s half-naked form as he crossed the room, “it was fun, I mean, you guys played really well, congrats on the win by the way.”
“Aw, thanks,” the man your gaze was locked upon sniggered as he settled in beside Tony, then leaned in to mutter in his ear just loud enough for you to catch, “Cap really wasn’t bluffing about her.”
“Dude, I know,” Tony harmonized lowly before raising his voice, “so, Y/n!” he slyly cleared his throat, “you never did tell us why you came to our game commando. Did you do that for us?”
“Oh, I-…” you averted your gaze, attempting to explain it with an airy laugh, “that wasn’t me, Steve kinda stole them a few minutes ago.”
Counting from behind you, Pietro challenged, “oh, Steve stole them, did he now?”
“Yeah,” you nodded bashfully. 
“And just why would he do such a thing?”
“I-…” you redirected your vision up towards the ceiling, “I think it’s easy enough to deduce what he was thinking.”
“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it,” Pietro playfully stepped closer, tilting his head to catch your nervous gaze. 
“Come on, honey,” Sam’s tongue flickered out to glisten up his smirk, “don’t get shy on us now.”
Gnawing on your bottom lip, you then confessed with an exhale, “…we were gonna go celebrate…”
“Celebrate? Really?” Bucky’s gaze gleamed back at you in amusement, “well, that sounds fun, doesn’t it sound fun, guys?” he didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he countered to the others, their enthusiastic replies swiftly filling the thick air. Slowly leaning in close, he tugged a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, “you know what I think?” your head instantly shook, hypnotically granting him the answer to continue, “I think we deserve some celebrating as well, don’t you think? I mean, it wasn’t only Rogers out there on the field. Don’t we deserve a prize as well?”
As he cradled your face, all you could do was melt, “I-… I guess so…”
Closing the short distance, Bucky planted a feathery kiss upon your lips before tilting his head back ever so slightly to flash you a playful glance, “yeah?” his words were just above a whisper, “you wanna celebrate with us till Rogers gets back?”
With starry eyes, you blinked back up at the football player and hummed, utterly spellbound, “uh-huh,” before his lips pressed against yours once more, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. 
Letting go of your face, his silky touch casketed down your form like a waterfall, flutteringly roaming, up and down, each time carelessly catching your skirt and letting it gather up with his hungry movements. 
As you purred enchantedly against Bucky’s lips, Pietro behind you sank down to his knees, his intentions becoming clear as you began to feel soft pecks flutter across the backs of your thighs, his fingertips raking over your tingling skin in sloppy patterns. 
But as his caresses danced their way further north up your flesh, I didn’t take long before the greedy man dove head first into what he truly wanted to kiss, rendering you to tear away from Bucky’s lips with a dizzying pant, “oh my god,” and bury your face in his brawny chest. 
Lapping against your soppy folds, Pietro let go of your puffy pearl with a pop, briefly pulling back to share, “fuck, she tastes good.”
“Oh yeah?” Thor breathed from the sidelines. 
“Like fucking sunshine and rainbows,” he elaborated with gravelly desperation in his tone before latching onto your core once more. 
You barely noticed when people stepped closer, scarcely knowing whose hands were exploring your every inch, all you knew was how incredible they made you feel. 
Squeezing your boobs through your thin shirt, nipples pebbly and clear through the fabric, you felt Tony’s breath tickle your ear, “you mind taking this off for us, sweetheart?”
Eyes fluttering over your shoulder to find him, you simply raised your arms high above your head and let them yank your t-shirt off and merrily discover how you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on this morning. 
Glancing down, you watched as Clint cupped your softness in his wide palms, “damn, look at these fucking tits,” he gave them a little jiggle before dipping his head down low to place a few pecks along them. With the left of your small buds swiftly getting captured by his lips, a different hand took over palming your right as your fingers found Clint’s short hair, your nails scraping gently along his scalp, “you like that, hon?” he blinked up at you as he sucked, friskily nipping at your sensitive skin, “you like having these little nipples played with, huh?”
“Mhm,” you nodded hazily as someone reached out to pinch harshly the one not getting slobbered. 
“What else do you like, huh?” Bucky asked, his radiating form still pressed up against you. Capturing your chin, his thumb extended to brush over your lips, “you like having something in this pretty little mouth of yours?” poking it in, the pad of his finger softly ran across your tongue before your lips enclosed around him, your head blissfully bobbing as you sucked on his digit, “yeah? You wanna suck our cocks?” he retracted his digit, smearing saliva across your cheek as you offered him a foggy nod, “you think you can handle all of us at once?”
“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted with excitement bubbling in your belly, “I’ve never been with more than just one person at a time.”
“Oh no, really?” Tony rumbled playfully, “you’ve never been shared by more?” he palmed your tit roughly as you craned your neck to gaze at him, “what a fucking shame, truly, you deserve to be worshipped like a goddess.”
“Don’t you worry, darling,” Thor smirked, “we’ll help you,” before Pietro as the last one distanced himself, letting go of your petals with a pop, as you sank down to the floor.
You hadn’t really noticed before, but now that you were at the right eye level, it became impossible not to take in the team’s enthusiasm. Most of them were already touching themselves and some even had already whipped their cocks out, the vision causing your eyelids to flutter as your brain turned molten at the possibilities. 
“O-oh, wow,” your eyes grew to the size of plates as they tugged their shorts down, “I-I-,” lengths springing free all around you, “I don’t know where to start… wow…” a giggle suddenly began to bubble out of you as you tore your stare away from their erections to find their eyes, “h-hi.”
Grasping your hand in his, Bucky then wrapped your fingers around his girth, smiling down at you as he throbbed for you, “hey, baby.”
“You’ll all so-,” your dazed gaze flickered around at them all, “wow…”
Raising your other hand up, you enclosed it around Clint, testing out a gentle jerk to gauge their reactions. 
“Yeah, right back at ya,” Clint echoed your compliments as his mouth fell open, utterly spellbound by your tender efforts. 
Catching Pietro’s eye, you slowly leaned in and gave his tip a sweet kiss, smile wide as you then licked it a few times as if he was a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day, “oh, shit,” he groaned, the grip he had around his base tightening, “open up for me, baby,” parting your lips, he then slowly rocked forward to fill up your mouth slightly, “yeah, just like that,” you felt his pulse against your tongue, “fuck…”
Head bopping gently at a leisurely pace, drooling blissfully around Pietro’s bulbous head, you shifted your hands, eyes fluttering in an attempt to locate the others, Sam and Thor then instead came to your rescue by seizing your flailing hands and bringing them to what you sought. 
When you pulled back from Pietro to catch your breath, his dick falling from your swollen lips with a crisp pop, you barely managed to suck in one whole breath before Tony’s hands seized either side of your face, bringing you close and sliding his cock in past your gasp. 
“Here you go,” he groaned as he rolled his hips, instantly going so deep that he tickled the back of your throat. With his fist tight around his base, he reluctantly let you come up for air, pulling back so swiftly as if the lack of your warmth pained him, “show me that tongue, angel,” chest heaving and eyes a daze, your mouth fell open and did as he requested, a hot string of drool promptly dripping from it and connecting to your exposed chest. Grabbing your chin and holding it tight, he leaned down and spit in your mouth, watching only a moment as it sparkled on your tongue before he tapped the weight of his girth against it, playing with it like a rain puddle before he ruthlessly thrust forward so deep that his heavy sack nuzzled against your chin and his tip disappeared deep down your throat, “there you go, honey,” fingers woven in your hair, he kept you still as he fucked your face, “there you go…” 
As Tony selfishly made you choke on his cock, Clint then knelt down beside you and reached under the short skirt that still clung to your hips. One hand still pumping himself, his other fingers found your core. 
“Fuck, she’s so wet,” he groaned, granting your aching clit a few circles before your pussy practically sucked one of his fingers in from how turned on you were, slipping in with no effect at all. Girth falling from your lips, you let out a shuttering gasp. Pressing his cheek against your own, Clint chuckled lowly, “you like that, baby?” lavishly caressing your walls ever so slowly, “that what you need?”
“Oh, god,” you panted, eyes fluttering shut, “yes!”
As he offered you another digit, he kept up a dizzying pattern of pumping his fingers into you, petting against a spot that made your pussy sing, only to retract them in order to rub your puffy pearl, repeating the dance till your legs trembled against the cool tile floor. 
“How about something else, huh?” Thor’s voice cut through your haze, “you wanna get that little pussy stretched out by something else?” your frame then jumped as Clint promptly landed a sharp slap against your soppy folds, forcing your eyes to snap open and your mind to race for an answer. 
Eyes training on Thor, a playful smirk bloomed on your lips, “what do you have in mind?” you asked innocently before you leaned in close and swiped your tongue over his leaking tip. 
Pumping his cock tightly in his fist, he tapped it against your beaming face and chuckled, “you really want me to spell it out for you?” to which you simply giggled under the weight of his length as a reply, one that swiftly got cut short and morphed into a gasp as Clint beside you plucked you up onto your wobbly feet. 
Working as the team that they were, they spun you around so that your backside pressed up against Thor. Hiking your skirt far enough up your waist to render it useless, the blonde athlete gazed down at your dripping mess, nuzzled against him and virtually drooling for him to split you open. 
“Look at that…” he briefly swiped his cock through your folds, parting them with his girth, “so pretty,” before his hips snapped forward and buried himself completely, “fuck…”
Eyes fluttering closed, you let out a shuttering moan as he held you there for a moment, savouring the euphoric sensation as your spine melted back against his chest. As Thor nuzzled you close, filling your cunt up so much that your knees threatened to give out, you felt stray hands find your tits, twisting and tweaking your nipples teasingly as some others grabbed your palms and guided them towards their cocks, enveloping their own around yours and fucking up into your touch. 
“How does she feel?” you heard Tony ask. 
Grip digging into your hips, Thor eased his length out, just halfway, before slamming it back inside, poking a place that pushed the air out of your lungs, “fucking incredible,” his lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. 
When a pair of hands found your face, cupping your flaming cheeks, your eyes dreamily blinked open once more to gaze back at Sam. Briefly pressing his lips against yours, it nearly gave you whiplash when they then manoeuvred your spine to bend, bowing down for your mouth to be aligned with Sam's excitement.
“Here you go, sweetheart,” he pumped his cock before you, smile growing wider as your soft tongue began to swipe across him, “don’t forget the nuts,” he lifted his length far enough out of your reach, groaning loudly as you began to drool all over his jewels as he wished, “that’s it, atta girl…”
Feeling Thor’s hands shift, one of them came to clench your skirt tightly, gathering the fabric on the small of your back and holding onto it as an anchor as the other one descended upon your ass, slapping away in quick succession, just hard enough for it to tingle deliciously. 
It all felt like a blur, like a dream. A beautiful and intoxicating dream. The kind of dream you’d never wanna wake from. 
After cumming all over Thor’s cock, in the hazy daze of it all, it took you a moment to realise that they had all switched out, trading places so that Pietro was now behind you, sliding in and out of your clenching cunt, and Clint was before you, sinking his dick so far down your throat that it left an imprint.
“This how you thought meeting the team would go, huh?” Bucky’s timbre cut through all of the moans, “this what you expected?” his touch was all over you, so hungry that you could barely keep track of it, “you expected us to pass you around and fuck your brains out?” gliding his palm down your spine, he then came to fixate on the little rosebud just shy north of where Pietro was having his fill, “has Cap fucked you here before?”
In between your sloppy pecks across Clint’s cock, you admitted, “a-a couple times.”
“A couple of times,” he chuckled darkly, “really?”
“What a dirty little girl you are, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the ass,” Clint suddenly got down to your level and plucked up your flustered face, bringing you close to his own, “say it, say that you’re a dirty girl.”
The words promptly flowed from you as if you were hypnotised, “I’m a dirty girl.”
Tapping your cheek lightly with his palm, he ordered, “again.”
“I’m a dirty girl.”
Slapping your features harsher this time, “one more time, what are you?”
“A-, fuck,” you whined, brows knitted as your pussy filled the room with soppy melodies of desire, “a dirty girl!
Just then, the door to the locker room burst open and in strolled none other than your boyfriend.
“Alright guys, listen up!” he called out before he truly took in the activities he’d just interrupted, “couch says that-,” but then when his gaze finally trained on your cockdrunk visage, the rest of his important message trailed off, “Y/n?” 
“Oh hey, Cap,” Bucky grinned, none of the players slowing down at the appearance of their leader, “thought we’d keep your girl entertained while you were gone.” 
Closing the door behind him, Steve took a slow step forward and sighed, “guys, seriously?” his glare found each and every one of them, “I was gonna talk to her first,” stride leisurely, he moved closer to you, peeling his shirt off as he did so. Kneeling down before you, getting on your level, a warm smile bloomed upon his lips as his eyes locked with your hazy ones, “hey baby.”
“S-Steve,” you whimpered, wanting so badly to explain, but unable to do anything other than melt even further. 
“How are you doing, huh?” the back of his knuckles softly ghosted down your cheek as his gentle tone washed over you like a warm cup of tea, “you still wanna tell me how well I played today or are you too busy telling the rest of the team?” 
“No, please don’t go,” you grabbed onto his tender touch, “please!”
Straightening back up to his full height, he pulled his shorts down and let his cock spring free, slapping his toned abdomen with its enthusiasm. 
“You mind?” he offered Pietro a nod before the man complied, easing out, and passing you to Steve’s open arms. Scooping you up, his strong grip curved around your bottom entirely. Pressing your lips to his, you tangled your arms around his neck as he nudged your weeping core against his girth, your cunt already creaming and painting his cock a milky shade.
Carrying you in his arms as if it took no effort at all, Steve raised you up further, aligning you just so before dropping you back down again and letting you sink down onto his dick, the sensation causing a pornographic mewl to escape both of your lips as you let the fevered kiss crumble in order to hide your face in the crook of his neck.
“Fucking hell, that’s it,” Steve groaned, lifting you up and down in his grip like a precious little cocksleeve, “that what you needed, huh? You needed me to fuck your pretty little hole?” palming your bottom roughly, he them landed a few swift slaps across it causing even more electricity to course throughout you with the sparks of pleasurable pain, “after the team had their fill, you still needed to feel me?” eyes squeezed shut, your drool smeared against his pulse as you felt him extend a finger and rub a few circles over your other hole, all of the other previous activities already slickening it up enough to make his dance molten and his initiative effortless when he plugged it up, “have me fuck you in front of all of them, give them a good view of what a beautiful mess they’ve made of you… Open your eyes, baby,” hazy vision blinking open, the side of your head stayed plastered against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder as your eyes locked on the spectators, “look at them, look at what you do to them, look at how much they want you.”
Trembling in his arms, so violently that you convulsed off his cock completely, it wasn’t till Sam excitedly pointed out, “oh, she’s a squirter!” that you noticed the gushing waterfall your high had showered Steve with.
“Damn right she is,” Steve smiled proudly, realigning his tender hold as he pressed a soft peck to your temple, “my girl is full of many talents,” with long strides, he then walked up to the bench in the middle of the room and slowly laid down upon it, securely holding your molten form close as he shifted, your body completely plastered on top of his as he cheekily spoke, “in fact, Buck, come over here, help me stuff her a bit more, yeah?” 
Glance swiftly washing over Tony, Bucky asked, “hey, do you still have that-“ 
“Yep, of course,” Tony didn’t need any more to understand, hastily rummaging through his gym bag before tossing his teammate a small bottle of lube, “here!” 
After liberally slickening himself up, you perked up a bit as you felt Bucky’s skin press against your own, your back arching up against his chest as he teased you, nudging his tip against your farmost entrance and rendering your form to yet again give into the ecstasy and recover in a flash. 
But as soon as he confidently sank in at slow and steady pace, a gasp escaped your lungs, “oh my god!”
“What?” Steve smirked beneath you, catching your wild eyes as he teased, “what is it, babe? What’s he doing?”
Mouth agape and brows tightly knitted, you uttered, “he’s fucking my ass.”
“Who’s fucking your ass?” Steve’s mockingly sweet tone washed over you.
“Bucky,” you whimpered as he eased back out till just the essence of him remained. 
“Why don’t you look back at him and say thank you?”
Twisting your head, you found his gaze and hazily managed, “thank you, Bucky,” the sensation of him sinking back in and splitting you apart made it nearly impossible to complete the task. 
“Thank you, what?” Steve fished. 
“Thank you for filling up my ass, Bucky.”
Capturing your face, Bucky cradled it in his hands as he smiled, “you’re so fucking welcome,” before dipping down to steal a sweet kiss, “any time, doll, any time…” 
With your nose nuzzled against Bucky’s, your boyfriend’s low voice once more found your ears, “hey baby? Why don’t you slide my cock back in, huh? Stretch that little pussy out as well?”
Reaching down to seize it, you hummed fuzzily, “mhm,” before slipping it in, your eyes promptly fluttering shut at the ecstasy. 
Their thrusts were slow but immensely intense, with a roughness hiding behind the pace that made you tremble between them. 
“Fucking hell, if you don’t marry this girl, Cap,” you felt Bucky’s boorish fingers wrap around your delicate throat, “one of us will.”
Fighting to peel your blissful eyes open, you first caught sight of Steve’s adoring features beneath you, gazing between your fuzzy expression and your stretched-out holes as if you were some mystical goddesses. But then your vision glanced across the crowd of professional football players, all fixated on you and nobody else, stroking their cocks to the exact pace your holes got filled. 
“I-I-, fuck-…” you whimpered as felt yourself once again near the edge.
“What, are you gonna cum again, sweetheart?” Steve moaned, rolling his hips up into you in a synchronized rhythm, “I can feel you-, christ, you clench down so fucking tight when you’re all stuffed like this,” he snaked his fingers down to strum your aching and overly sensitive clit, your frame nearly bucking away from him as he bullied the painfully puffy pearl. 
“It’s too much, fuck-, I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you heard yourself cry, feeling as if you might actually pass out. 
“No, no, baby, you can, you can,” your boyfriend declared determinedly, not slowing down one bit at the sight of your pout, “you can take it, you can cum with the both of us inside of you.”
“B-but it’s so much, I-”
“Don’t worry, we’ve got you, don’t we, Buck?”
“Right here, doll,” Bucky’s warm palm slid down your front and grasped your left tit, his whole arm curving over you like a seatbelt holding you upright and close to him, “just fall and we’ll catch you.”
And with that, your pour pussy poured out everything it had, tears spewing from your eyes at the intensity.
“Aah!” 
Convulsing, you nearly tumbled to the tile below, but they both held you close, safely in their grasp as well as far down on their cocks as your gushing core clambered around them and nearly expelled them entirely. 
Maybe you fell asleep, for even a second, because that’s what it felt like when you blinked your eyes open once more to find your drowsy frame situated on the floor, the lingering aid from a few of the men to get you relocated still remaining as you blinked up at all of them.
Had it truly been that many cocks that had in one way or another been inside of you today?
Smiling up at all seven of them from your position on your wobbly knees, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue roll out once last time as they furiously jerked themselves to completion before you, the grin on your face only growing wider as their cum began to paint your skin.
Twitching and panting, the majority still let their touch linger needily as they floated back down to earth. 
Broad chest heaving with every deep breath, “babe,” Steve bit down on his smirk as he gazed down at the decorated state you were now in, “say thank you to the guys for taking such good care of you.” 
Making your gaze go on a round to catch each and every one of their doting stares, you uttered breathlessly, “thank you.”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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inkskinned · 3 months
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yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months
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on a night like tonight
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wrote this for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge using the dialogue prompt!! just a fluffy (debatable) one shot for my favourite slytherin boy🫠🫠🫠
prompt 2: "are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?"
pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!slytherin reader (although its not that important to the one shot, honestly)
warning(s): slightly suggestive (towards the end), alcohol consumption
~∞~ i love writing for mattheo😫 idk how i feel about this one but i enjoyed writing either way lol. and yes i titled this after a niall song (im still not over the fact that i saw him in the flesh like a whole week ago!??!?!) also happy international women's day to all of you sexy, beautiful women xxxx
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The Slytherin common room was ripe with activity. The Quidditch team had beaten Gryffindor by an utter landslide (250-110), so it was only appropriate for them to throw a huge party to celebrate. The team were in the middle of the room, surrounded by their most loyal band of lovestruck followers, as they drowned in all sorts of alcoholic beverages.
Spheres of magical light littered the high ceiling, glittering like stars and creating an eerily green glow as they reflected off of the murky waters of the Black Lake. The seating areas had been cleared, and in place was a makeshift dancefloor of sorts, filled to the brim with students dancing, singing and laughing to whatever music was playing on a stereo that Blaise had brought in from his Ravenclaw friends.
You were stood against a wall beside Pansy, who was busy glaring at the girl who had draped herself against Theo's arm as he laughed heartily at something Enzo had said. Your best friend was seething with jealousy, but she was far too stubborn to do anything about her feelings for your Italian friend.
The two of them had been dancing around their feelings for months; it was downright infuriating.
"I don't understand why you won't do something about it, Pans!" You say to her loudly, so that your voice could be heard over the earshattering bass music. "I'm getting sick of the back and forth between the two of you!"
Pansy finally takes her eyes off of the floppy haired brunette, who is now whispering in the ear of the girl, with a suggestive smirk on his face. "I'd say the same for you." She scoffs and you turn to her with furrowed brows.
"Oh don't act dumb." Pansy says with a laugh as she turns towards you fully, the drink in her hand sloshing over the rim of the cup as she does. "I see the way you look at Matt. You're very obvious. Both of you are."
"I don't know what you're talking about." You say reluctantly, taking a lengthy sip of your firewhiskey to avoid her knowing look.
Had your affections for your friend really been so blatant?
And did he really return them?
You turn towards the middle of the room and the liquid in your cup is suddenly drained to empty as you watch Mattheo dance closely behind a pretty Hufflepuff girl.
You and Pansy return to your mutual solitude, letting your friends revel in their win against their greatest rival, while simultaneously becoming more and more drunk, the more you watch as Theo and Mattheo obliviously break your hearts some more.
~∞~
It's much later into the night, and the party has not died down. In fact, it only seems to have gotten busier as more and more people from the other houses joined in on the debauchery.
You are so drunk. Practically stumbling along behind Pansy as she drags you to and from the dance floor to get more drinks. The two of you are dancing on each other, her hips grinding against your's to the beat of the music as you both giggle tipsily. You're unaware of your surroundings and have surely pissed off many other partiers with your drunken moves. But it doesn't bother either of you, content to enjoy each other's company, until there is a presence behind you that has Pansy smirking cheekily at you.
You narrow your eyes at her, vision hazy as you feel hands cradle your waist, almost possessively. Looking up, you come face to face with the underside of Mattheo's sharp jaw as he says something to Pansy that you don't comprehend. Whatever he says has her disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to his mercy.
"Hello, Princess." He mumbles lowly, mouth brushing against the soft shell of your ear, causing a shiver to run down the length of your spine.
"Matty! Hi." You say, voice slightly slurred and you grimace at how drunk you sound. He only smirks before he's gently spinning you to face him.
"Haven't seen you since the start of the match. 'S been ages." He replies, voice raspy from how much he'd shouted and cheered during and after the match.
"It's not been that long." You say with a teasing smile as you take in his appearance. In place of the emerald quidditch robes he'd been sporting that afternoon, he's wearing a dark, black t-shirt which stretches tightly across his torso, emphasising his Beater physique and a pair of dark trousers drapes over strong legs. Your observation is slow and purposeful and the smirk on his face widens even further as you admire him more openly then you ever have before.
He's chuckling to himself and then says something that you can barely hear over the loud music that reverberates through the room. But the cadence of his voice and the way they almost seem to have been hissed out in a way you do not understand, makes you tilt your head to the side as he smiles.
"What did you just say?" You ask him, or rather shout so that he can hear you. He copies you with a tilt of his head as he looks down at you with his captivating onyx eyes.
He repeats it again, his hands tightening against your waist when you stumble slightly as someone jostles you in an attempt to get past, smirking when your face scrunches in confusion.
"Are you speaking parceltongue or am i really drunk?" You ask, your hands coming to rest against his firm chest when you were pushed into him.
"Gods, Princess. How much have you had to drink?" He asks with gleaming eyes. It's the mischief in them that has you opening your mouth in feined outrage.
"You were speaking parceltongue!" You accuse and he lets out a laugh as you lightly whack his chest. "What did you say!?"
"Now why would I tell you that?" He replies, his face leaning closer to your's. You can smell the alcohol on his hot breath, mingling with your own and you can feel every breath he takes as it fans across your face.
"Because I'm your best friend?" You say with a smirk as you unconsciously wrap your arms around his neck, leaning on your tip toes slightly so that you can be at eye level with him. The move has your hips brushing against his. You swear his eyes darken as you do.
"Theo's my best friend." He says in a tone of faux obviousness, mischief laced in his rough voice.
"But I'm your favourite, right? If you admit it, I promise that Teddy will never know. It can be our little secret, Matty." You tease and he's laughing again, before he says something else in that strange, reptilian voice, eyes flicking from you eyes to your lips.
You've always been my favourite, darling.
The ways his eyes sparkle, despite the harshness of the sounds against his tongue have you acting upon instinct as you surge forward and press your lips to his. It's as magical as you've always imagined, despite it being tainted by your twin inebriation. But you'll take what you can get.
Because Mattheo Riddle is finally kissing you and you reckon you could fall into a abyss of happiness as his pillowly lips caress your's with loving grace.
~∞~
The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar, yet familiar dorm room and Enzo is smirking at you with glee. A tanned, muscular arm is draped across your middle and you're using the other as a makeshift pillow. Your face warms as you recognise the large, veiny hand that stretches across your stomach.
"Fun night?" Your friend asks with a snicker and you flip him off in response. He leaves the room after he's done teasing you, his loud laughter echoing in the corridor. You move to stand but an arm tightens around the skin of your waist.
"Where do you think you're going, Princess?" Mattheo mumbles, his voice low and raspy from sleep.
"Well good morning, sunshine." You reply, a smile spreading across your face as you turn to face him, to find that he is already staring at you, with adoration in his onyx eyes.
"Am I still dreaming, or are you really in my bed right now?" He asks as you trace a finger lightly over his naked chest.
"Oh it's very real. And I'm sure Enzo has already told the others what he just discovered." You reply with a giddy laugh.
"About bloody time, don't you think?" Mattheo's question is muffled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzles his face there. You smile in response, giggling as pieces of his curly hair brush against your soft skin.
"I'd still like to know what you said last night." You say but he doesn't give you the answer. Instead, he rolls the two of you so that you lie beneath his toned body, strong arms caging you in.
"That's my little secret, Princess." He mumbles as he presses languid kisses down your neck and chest, travelling lower until your rendered a moaning mess beneath him.
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pucksandpower · 9 months
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Grid Kids
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: your adopted family may be chaotic but you wouldn’t change it for the world
Series Masterlist
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Max Verstappen: Jailhouse Rock
It’s an ungodly hour of the morning when your phone rings. You groan, fumbling blindly on the nightstand to silence the offender. The name glowing on the screen gives you pause: Max Verstappen.
“Seb,” you mumble, nudging your husband awake. “Max is calling. It’s 3 am.”
Sebastian grumbles something unintelligible, face squished into the pillow next to you.
“You take it,” you insist, poking him again, “I spent three hours on the phone with Lewis last night promising him that Roscoe doesn’t hate him for being left at home this weekend.”
Reluctantly, Sebastian sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He swipes to answer, his groggy voice filling the silent room. “Max, do you know what time it is?”
You hear a hurried explanation from Max’s end, something about a go-kart race, a party, and a tiny misunderstanding with local law enforcement. Your husband’s face becomes more incredulous with every word.
“Wait, you’re where?”
***
Ten minutes later, you find yourselves at the police station, bleary-eyed but amused. Max is sat behind bars, a sheepish look on his face.
“I promise, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists, blue eyes pleading.
You both manage to suppress your laughter. After signing a few papers, Max is free but the smug grin on Sebastian’s face tells you that he’s not going to let him off that easy.
“So, this is our life now?” you whisper to Sebastian, wrapping your arm around his. “Running a day care for unruly F1 drivers.”
He chuckles, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “I think we make a pretty good team.”
Charles Leclerc: Open the Floodgates
It’s a stormy evening when your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text message from Charles Leclerc: Hey, can I crash at yours? My flat’s kind of … flooded.
Sebastian, reading over your shoulder, raises an eyebrow. “Flooded?”
Before you can respond, a photo arrives — Charles’ living room, a sea of murky water with floating furniture: Okay, maybe more than just kind of.
You look at each other, suppressing laughter. “Guess we’re running a bed & breakfast now too,” you comment, already texting Charles back: Come over. Bring a mop.
***
Not an hour later, there’s a knock at your door. Charles, drenched from head to toe, stands at your doorstep, carrying what appears to be a plant pot with a small, equally wet cactus.
“I saved the cactus,” he says, looking as pitiful as a drowned rat, albeit a very cute one. He offers a half-hearted shrug, “I didn’t want it to drown.”
Sebastian bursts out laughing, his contagious mirth echoing around the hall. You can’t help but join in, hugging your sides in an attempt to remain composed.
“Well, come in. We can’t have you and the cactus catching a cold.”
***
Over the next few days, you quickly adapt to the unexpected housemate situation. Charles proves to be a surprisingly tidy guest, always washing his dishes and even cooking dinner one night (although you had to discreetly order pizza after trying his special lasagna).
In the evenings, the three of you curl up on the sofa with Sebastian’s old race replays, laughing and teasing each other. And every night, before he goes to his bed in the guest room, Charles says goodnight to his cactus — the newest member of your eccentric family.
Lance Stroll: The Cat-astrophe
A week later, you get a frantic call from Lance Stroll. “Guys, I found this cat,” he says, panting heavily, “It was all alone in the alley and I couldn't just leave it there.”
The line goes silent for a moment before Lance coughs then sneezes loudly. “Uh, guys, I think I might be allergic ...”
***
When Lance arrives, the culprit — a tiny, scruffy looking kitten — is perched on his shoulder while Lance himself is a picture of misery: puffy eyes, runny nose, and all.
Between his sneezes, Lance pleads, “Can you please keep her until I figure out what to do? I can’t just abandon her.”
You glance at Sebastian, who looks at the tiny furball with a mixture of amusement and concern. He’s been a dog person all his life but how can you say no to those pleading green eyes?
And so, your home expands to accommodate another kid — this time, a four-legged one.
***
The next few days are full of chaos. The kitten — whom Lance named Speedy — turns out to be an agent of destruction, knocking over everything in her path and giving Charles’ cactus a few worrying near misses.
You try to give Lance advice on finding a new home for Speedy while dealing with cat-proofing your own. But, during the ensuing pandemonium, you can’t help but laugh.
George Russell: The Shrunken Sweater Saga
One sunny afternoon, George Russell bursts through the door, a panicked expression on his face. “Guys, something terrible happened!”
Sebastian and you exchange a concerned look, jumping up from where you were cuddled on the couch. “What is it, George?”
He holds up a shrunken cashmere sweater, once a luxurious wardrobe piece, now resembling something only a toy poodle could wear. “I accidentally put all my sweaters in the washing machine! They’ve shrunk!”
As the reality of the situation sinks in, you can’t help but chuckle. “George, you do know cashmere isn’t machine-washable, right?”
“I thought they were!” he laments, looking at his miniature sweater in disbelief.
Sebastian claps a hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll figure this out.���
***
Over the next few days, you and Sebastian embark on a quest to save George’s beloved cashmere sweaters. Armed with online tutorials and gallons of fabric softener, you attempt various rescue techniques.
Some of the sweaters regain a semblance of their former glory while others are beyond saving. You present George with a colorful assortment of shrunken clothing which he accepts with an embarrassed grin.
***
A sudden thought strikes you and you can’t help but giggle. Holding up a particularly tiny sweater, you call out to Speedy.
“Look, Speedy! It’s your size!” you exclaim as you gently dress her in the shrunken garment. It fits her perfectly, making her look like the most stylish cat on the block.
The sight of Speedy strutting around in a cashmere sweater breaks all of you into laughter. Even George can’t help but chuckle, despite his heartbreaking loss.
***
In the following days, Speedy parades around the house, flaunting her new wardrobe. George’s shrunken sweaters have found a new purpose, and despite the initial panic, everything worked out in the end.
“This is the most high-fashion cat I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian comments one day, watching Speedy strut her stuff on the living room rug. “She should be on a runway.”
George, watching his beloved sweaters being put to good use, grins. “I think they look better on her than they did on me.”
Speedy watches you with a lazy stare, now comfortably nestled in her new family’s hearts (and cashmere sweaters).
Lando Norris: Call the Milk Man
It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon when the doorbell rings, jolting you out of your peaceful nap. Groggily, you stumble towards the door, pulling it open to reveal a sheepish-looking Lando Norris.
“Hi, I was just wondering,” he starts, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Do you have some milk I could borrow? I ran out and the shops are closed.”
Suppressing a smile, you nod, motioning for him to wait while you go fetch the milk.
***
When you hand Lando the milk, he seems relieved. But then, he looks at the container quizzically. “Why is it in a glass bottle? Don’t you use cartons?”
Your laughter fills the hallway as you explain your household’s eco-friendly policy. Lando listens attentively, his previous discomfort replaced with genuine curiosity. You can tell he’s taking mental notes.
***
Over the next few weeks, Lando pops by more frequently. Sometimes he borrows more milk, other times he just wants to chat about sustainability, an interest sparked during his first milk visit.
One day, he arrives at your doorstep with a broad grin and a glass bottle in hand. “Look, I’ve switched to glass milk bottles too!”
Sebastian will be proud.
Mick Schumacher: Comfort in Company
One evening, you find Mick Schumacher sitting alone in your backyard, gazing at the stars. His usually cheerful face is thoughtful, his eyes a little glossy.
“Mick, everything alright?” you ask, settling down next to him on the grass.
He looks at you then at the stars again. “I just ... I miss my dad, you know?”
The silence hangs in the air, thick with emotions. You reach out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to miss him. You don’t have to hide it. Especially not here with us.”
He nods, wiping his eyes. “I know. It’s just some days it hits harder than others.”
You stay with him, listening as he talks about his dad, his memories both sweet and poignant. You realize that while you’ve adopted your grid kids into your chaotic family, they each come with their own sets of joys and sorrows.
***
Sebastian joins you two after a while and the three of you sit under the stars, sharing stories and remembrances. Mick smiles as Sebastian tells him stories about racing with Michael, the camaraderie they shared, and the respect they had for each other.
By the end of the night, Mick seems lighter, the earlier sadness replaced with a soft smile of remembrance. He thanks both of you for listening and understanding. “You guys really are like a second family to me.”
The Big Announcement
One sunny afternoon, you gather all your grid kids in the living room. The chatter is lively, the room buzzing with energy as they try to figure out why they’ve been summoned.
Sebastian gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you both stand in front of your unconventional family.
“We’ve called you all here because we have some news,” you begin, heart pounding in your chest.
***
When you finally tell them you're pregnant, the room falls into a stunned silence, their wide-eyed expressions making you chuckle. But then, as the news sinks in, the silence is broken by whoops of joy and congratulations.
“Wow, so we’re going to be big brothers?” Max exclaims, while Lando jokes about teaching the baby to prank Sebastian, Mick looks almost teary-eyed with happiness, and George immediately volunteers for babysitting duties.
***
With your pregnancy announcement, your grid kids go into overdrive. They begin to dote on you in a way that’s both touching and a little overwhelming. From Charles insisting on cooking you healthy meals (despite his previous lasagna disaster) to Max bringing you comfortable pregnancy pillows, everyone tries to make you as comfortable as possible.
Lance even makes Speedy wear a bell around her neck in case she inadvertently startles you. The cat isn’t pleased but the sight of her jingling around the house keeps everyone entertained.
***
As the weeks go by, their concern borders on overprotectiveness. They fuss over you at the smallest things, like Max insisting on driving you to your doctor’s appointments because he’s “the fastest driver” or Lando continually adjusting the house temperature to ensure you’re never too hot or cold.
While their actions are well-intended, they often become hilariously excessive. One day, you find Mick baby-proofing the house even though the baby isn’t due for months. He sheepishly shrugs, “Just trying to be prepared.”
***
Despite the chaos, their actions stem from love and concern, which warms your heart. One evening, you find yourself surrounded by your grid kids as you sit in the living room, their laughter filling the air.
As you watch them, your hand gently resting on your growing belly, you can’t help but feel grateful. These young drivers, your grid kids, have become such a vital part of your life. Their genuine care and, at times, overzealous concern during your pregnancy only emphasize the strong bond you share.
Your family may not be traditional and your daily life may be filled with mayhem but it’s your life with Sebastian and the grid kids. It’s chaotic, hilarious, and unpredictable — and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.
The Big Day
The day finally arrives when you’re rushed to the hospital. Sebastian is by your side, holding your hand through every contraction, while your grid kids anxiously wait in the waiting room, pacing and biting their nails.
A few hours later, when your newborn daughter makes her entrance into the world, Sebastian walks out to the young drivers, his eyes sparkling with joy and exhaustion. “You can meet her now.”
The joy and anticipation in the room is palpable as they rush in, crowding around the hospital room door in their eagerness.
The sight that greets them is nothing short of heartwarming. You’re in bed, looking tired but blissful, a tiny bundle nestled in your arms.
As they take turns holding the little one, their faces light up in awe. From Max’s gentle cooing to Lando’s finger being gripped by tiny hands to Mick’s unashamed happy tears to Charles’ whispered lullaby in French and George’s soft-spoken promise to be the “coolest brother,” the room is filled with a warm sense of family.
Even Speedy, smuggled into the hospital in Lance’s jacket, gets to sniff the newest human member of the family, much to the nurses’ chagrin.
A Baby in the Paddock
Several months later, the paddock welcomes an unexpected visitor — your baby daughter, wrapped snugly in a cute onesie with a tiny racing helmet print. As you push her stroller through the crowd, your grid kids and their fellow drivers are visibly smitten by the adorable sight.
Your grid kids instantly surround your daughter, their faces lighting up as they coo and make silly faces to elicit giggles. They take turns pushing her stroller and you can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm in their newfound roles as big brothers.
Sebastian, ever the proud father, looks on with warm amusement as he watches your daughter bond with her extended family.
***
Amid the hustle and bustle of the paddock, your daughter experiences her first pit stop as Charles and Lando try to change her diaper. Even Mick, the baby-proofing master, hovers nearby to ensure everything goes smoothly.
You can’t help but admire their dedication and the way they’ve embraced their roles as her protectors and playmates.
***
At the end of the day, you gather the whole group for a family photo. Your daughter, held by Max and Mick on either side, steals the show with her toothless grin.
As you look at the photo later, you realize that this quirky, chaotic family has grown and changed in the most beautiful ways. Your daughter has been embraced by these young drivers, who have become her brothers and protectors, just as they’ve become sons to you.
A New Racer on the Track
Years pass in the blink of an eye and soon your little girl is no longer a baby. She’s grown into a lively child with a love for speed, much like her father. Today, she’s ready to participate in her first karting race, and the whole gang — your grid kids now with seven World Championships between them — are here to support her.
As they gather around the track, an old joke resurfaces. Max points at a particular bend in the track, nudging Charles with a smirk. “Remember the inchident?”
Charles groans, rolling his eyes, “Not this again. It was years ago!”
Laughter breaks out among the group, their bond echoing through the years.
***
Before the race, each of your grid kids offers your daughter their sage advice. From Lando’s “always keep your cool” to George’s “remember to enjoy the ride,” her brothers are keen to impart their wisdom. Mick even attempts to show her how to properly do a pit stop, using a toy car and tiny plastic cones.
Your daughter, with a sparkling helmet almost too big for her head, listens earnestly, her wide eyes moving from one brother to the next.
When the race finally starts, your grid kids cheer on loudly, their voices carrying over the vroom of the karts. The sight of your daughter, determined behind the wheel of her tiny kart, brings a surge of pride and a few tears to your eyes.
As the race ends, your daughter crosses the finish line in third place, a beaming smile on her face. She’s welcomed back to the pit by a roaring cheer from her family, her brothers lifting her onto their shoulders.
***
That night, the celebration is filled with laughter, teasing, and an impromptu re-enactment of the inchident by Charles and Max, much to your daughter’s amusement.
Sebastian lifts his glass for a toast, “To our little racer, may you always find joy on the track. And remember, an inchident is only funny if it doesn’t happen to you.”
Laughter fills the room once again, and you can’t help but marvel at the love and joy surrounding you. These are the moments you cherish the most, moments of laughter and unity shared with this extraordinary, unconventional family.
As you watch your daughter being coddled and celebrated by her brothers, you realize that this legacy of love and support will always continue, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.
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arieslost · 2 months
Text
fireproofs | ln4
summary: lando norris is hot and the 2024 fireproofs drive you crazy.
word count: 756
warnings: suggestive comments
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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you’ve been grateful to mclaren for many things over the years, but aside from a fast car, this has to be the best gift they’ve bestowed upon you.
you don’t think it’s an exaggeration when you say that your jaw unhinged the first time you saw lando wearing the new black fireproofs that mclaren has him and oscar in for the 2024 season. he’d sent you pictures, along with a text saying, “what do you think? 👀”
you’d responded with “yeah, not bad” and subsequently spent the next half hour screaming into your pillow. you were able to save face over text, but now that testing is here, you’re a lost cause.
you’d seen lando in black fireproofs before, but something about this year is different. something about him is different. he’s more confident, more determined, and he somehow managed to fill out even more during winter break.
lando had felt bad for mclaren’s car launch sabotaging your valentine’s day, so while you were in the middle of insisting that it wasn’t a big deal, he was booking you a plane ticket to join him in bahrain for the grand prix and testing the week before.
so now, you’re twiddling your thumbs as you sit in your boyfriend’s driver room, both anxious to see him before his testing session begins and hoping he’ll be occupied on the pit wall for just a little longer so you can figure out how to keep your composure once he changes into his race suit.
“you’re still here?” it comes out like half an exclamation and half a question as lando slips into the room.
“you haven’t even gone out on the track, of course i’m still here,” you giggle when he pulls you into his arms and starts pressing kisses all over your face. “i can’t wait to see you put the car through its paces. oscar looked pretty good out there.”
“i’d rather put you through your paces,” he mumbles in your ear, and you smack his shoulder.
“maybe later, if you’re not too tired.”
“i’m never too tired for you.” he winks and kisses your nose before turning to change.
you have no shame in ogling his ass out of the corner of your eye as he does so, but for the most part you’re looking at updates from the first session on your phone until he sits down next to you to put his shoes on.
those damn fireproofs.
they hug his body a little too nicely. the muscles in his chest, back, and arms are perfectly defined courtesy of the tight material. you can’t even think about his shoulder to waist ratio without feeling a little dizzy with desire.
“you’re drooling,” he teases as he stands back up, the both of you knowing damn well that he loves it when you stare at him.
“i can’t help it, you’re too hot.” you’ve never had a problem with telling him just how fine he is, especially because your praise always manages to make him blush and that just makes him impossibly more attractive.
“how am i supposed to let you leave this room?” you complain, wrapping your arms around his torso.
he buries his red face in your shoulder. “the sooner i leave, the sooner i come back and show you a good time.”
“i thought you were taking me out to dinner.”
“that’s what i was talking about,” his tone is dripping in faux innocence, and you know he’s messing with you when you feel him kiss your neck. “good to know where your priorities lie, though.”
you open your mouth to patronize him, but you’re cut off when he squeezes your hips, causing you to yelp. “you are impossible.”
“hmm, good thing you love me so much then.” you can hear his smile as he speaks, and you run your hands across his back, feeling every ridge of muscle through the material of the fireproofs.
your phone starts buzzing in your pocket— the alarm you’d set to remind yourself of when he needed to get in the car. “alright,” you reluctantly separate yourself from him, taking one last lingering look at his figure before he pulls the other half of his race suit on. “i’ll stay for an hour or two and meet you back at the hotel, okay?”
“what dress are you wearing tonight?” he asks as he holds the door open for you.
“the papaya one,” you smirk, and he groans, dragging a hand through his hair.
“you’re gonna kill me, baby.”
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note: i wrote most of this at 2 am in a purely feral state and did the bare minimum in editing because i’m drowning in schoolwork so apologies if it’s a bit rough!! mclaren posted a 10 second video of lando and oscar walking around and that was all it took.
lowercase is intentional because i wrote entirely on mobile!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @emmma232 @lieswithoutfairytales @valisjustvaleria @bwormie @meribfox @xfuckoffx @rai-scutum @clara760-blog @reptaysgf @harryismysworld @caz-93 @positiveaspirations @satanfinalgirl @ln4lova @crazymofo-96 @x-d1vine @anedpev
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spideyhexx · 4 months
Note
Riding off of the Sej teaching Coryo how to finger you, Sej teaching Coryo how to eat you out? Pretty please with sprinkles on top????
I have a request for Coryo x Sejanus x fem! Reader where it's kinda like the teaching Coryo how to finger but instead of fingering maybe it's Sejanus teaching Coryo how to eat a girl out?
Like the Sej teaching Coryo how to finger you…but it’s how you eat you out instead??? and Sej gets shocked because Coryo is doing it like he already has experience and reader likes Coryo more than him?
I knew this was coming, here you guys go :)
mdni
Okay, I think this would have a different approach compared to when Sej taught Coryo how to finger you.
Coryo has seen Sej eat you out at this point and I think the idea comes up because Coryo just blurts out how badly he wants to taste you on his tongue and not his fingers. When it's finally his turn to try it out, Sej doesn't demonstrate it for him.
You're in a position you've gotten used to since Coryo has joined you guys, your back to Sejanus' chest and your legs spread.
Sej is rubbing your sides soothingly as Coryo lays between your legs, kissing your inner thighs.
"I thought you were desperate for this, Snow, what's taking so long?" Sej laughs at your attempt to make Coryo go faster and the man between your legs can't help but laugh a little too.
"I'm savoring it," he winks at you and you roll your eyes. Sej would grab onto your jaw, whispering, "hey, none of that...Coryo's learning, remember? Let him enjoy it." He gives you a kiss before letting go of your jaw and you return your gaze to Coryo.
I think he'd spend an agonizingly long time, kissing and nipping at your thighs, watching the way your pussy is left untouched and begging for him to do something.
Coryo would look to Sej, awaiting some sort of instruction. "wrap your lips around her clit," he says, his voice almost in a whisper as Sej feels himself growing harder.
Coryo does not take his eyes off of yours as kisses your clit gently, mockingly before wrapping his lips on it and sucking ever so lightly.
It's different from Sej. His eyes would be closed, completely lost in the taste of you, but Coryo's gaze bores into you and you can feel his lips quirk up when you let out a whine.
"Oh, she likes that, keep going," Sej would trail kisses on your neck as he watches Coryo, feeling just as turned on as you are.
"Swirl your tongue." Coryo listens, his tongue swirling a few times against your clit. He puts as much pressure as he could, realizing the more he does, the more you moan and your hips move. His hands hold them down and he takes his mouth away, using one of his hands to spread your lips open, licking a long, fat stripe up against you.
Your hands make their way into his blonde curls and that's the first time you see Coryo close his eyes, moaning against you as he licks sloppily like a puppy.
His own hips press down into the mattress to relieve some of the tension in his cock.
"You can fuck her with your tongue, too Coryo," Sej moves his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing against your nipples as Coryo licks around your hole before fucking his tongue into you.
He does that for a bit, watching Sej play with your tits, using his fingers to rub at your clit.
At some point he removes his mouth from you and you let out whine, tugging hard on his curls and his nose bumps against your clit.
Coryo growls and dives back into you, mumbling something, but neither Sej or you can make it out.
"Sweetheart, let him say what he has to say." Reluctantly, you let him and Coryo is smirking wildly, his lips redder and wet.
"Do you ever spit on it?"
Sej raises a brow, "on her pussy?" Coryo nods and you whimper as the two men talk like you're not even there.
"I haven't, but it's already all on there, so...what harm could more do?"
Coryo's smirk grows and he looks back into your eyes, spitting directly onto clit before playing with it with his tongue again.
Your back arches against Sej and he groans, his cock rubbing against you. "Coryo, fuck, how're you so good at this?"
He chuckles. "mmm, I don't know, you tell me what's so good about it?"
And you do. You hold onto his curls tighter, pushing his head against your pussy, his nose rubbing firmly against your clit as his tongue does wonders in you. "Y-your...your tongue is j-just...perfect..."
"mhm, keep going," he mumbles. "a-and, you're...you're looking at me like...oh god, I don't know," you moan loudly, almost forgetting that Sej is behind you until his fingers pinch your nipples.
"mmm well you gotta tell me, sweetheart or you won't cum." You whine, Coryo's tongue making it's way back to your clit.
"You're l-looking at me like you're starving..." you trail off into a strained moan and Coryo groans against you, his hips slowly grinding into the bed.
"L-look at you, you're...fucking yourself on the bed, Coryo, it's just...it's so fucking hot." Coryo growls and tries to pull your hips even closer against him if possible.
Sej is speechless, still playing with your tits and giving your neck kisses, but he's transfixed on the way Coryo is making you fall apart despite this being the first time he's ever eaten a girl out.
"is it better than sej?" You gasp, your hips squirming even more. You feel Sej hold onto you a little tighter, maybe it's even in a protective way.
Coryo spits onto your clit again, looking up at you expectantly.
Under your breath you say, "yes." Coryo hears it but he shakes his head slightly.
"Louder, baby, c'mon."
"yes...y-yes it's better." And when Coryo moans against you, it hits you in the right spot to where your orgasm overtakes you and you're pushing his face into your pussy so tightly, you're not even sure he can breathe.
But he takes it. He lets you do it and he's moaning the entire time, licking you up and savoring the taste, feeling his own release, hot and sticky against his thighs and the sheets.
You become too sensitive as your orgasm dies down and Sej pushes Coryo's head away from you, but he stays close, leaning his head on your thigh and rubbing the other one.
Sej checks in with you to make sure you're okay and you nod, but the embarrassment from how hard you came and the fact you admitted that Coryo ate you out better than your boyfriend was still haunting your mind.
This is also the first time Coryo feels an overwhelming sensation to be the one comforting you and holding you in his arms and he doesn't know if he should.
You whisper something to Sej that Coryo can't hear, but Sej looks content.
It's only when you move, Coryo realizes that Sej had also released during the little session and he uses the tissues you reached for to clean it off of you.
You offer one to Coryo and he cleans himself, starting to get up off the bed when you grab onto his hand. "stay...please," you look at him, still flushed and dazed.
He moves closer to you, hesitantly holding you in his arms as Sej gets up to grab water. "Was that all okay? Did I upset him?"
"It was more than okay. And no. he liked it. Trust me," you look at him with a smile and Coryo returns it, moving his hand to your thigh and rubbing it soothingly.
"You were so good," you tell him, running a hand through his sweaty curls. He blushes and kisses your shoulder, the gesture making you feel warm inside.
"Thank you for letting me do it. You tasted wonderful by the way." You snort and hit his chest.
"You sound so formal." Sej joins you two in bed, laying on your other side.
"You sure you've never done that before?"
"I swear," Coryo laughs and he feels more at ease when he sees Sej smile. You snuggle into both of them, whispering, "You'll have to step up your game to compete with that, Sej." You smile and Sej playfully bites your shoulder.
Coryo is soon laughing, feeling truly content and happy for the first time in a long time.
That night, the three of you cuddle, with you sandwiched between them. It's the first time Coryo's stayed in your bed and you all begin to realize you'd like to keep it this way.
let's chat about coryo, sejanus, or both, here :)
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theroyalyandere · 11 months
Note
smutty yandere dilf! emperor? 😍😍 reader is like a servant or something jsjsjsjs
yandere!dilf!emperor x female!servant!reader smutty 18+
cw: dark content, child neglect, alcohol abuse, breeding, inappropriate touching, jealousy, torture, dub-con, mentions of pregnancy and lactation
a/n: to people who see this post, don't like? then don't read
imagine attending as a servant to the emperor who was taken by grief with the lost of his wife
you notice how he drowns himself in alcohol leaving his work to the butlers and other lords
even neglecting his only child, who you can see was sadden by the situation of losing their mother then their father to drinking
the emperor was too drunk to pay attention to you, although you are mostly the one who takes care of him because you tolerate anything that comes into your way
whether he throws a fit or vomit all over, you chose to endure it because of necessity
whenever you have time for yourself, you often find the young child of the emperor all alone, playing by the gardens or at their mother's empty room
the servants and guards attending to the child or passing by would look at the child with pity in their eyes thinking they are going to be doomed for life
having enough of seeing the sad prince/princess, you took it upon yourself to take care of them
you approached the child who was wary but eventually warmed up to you
days went by and the young prince/princess would often follow you like a duckling to it's mother
you adore the little kid and everyone can see it, the smile coming from the prince/princess was enough to make anyone's day bright
the news of his own child being fond of another person reached the ears of the emperor
he was in the middle of throwing a fit when you did not attend to him
the poor guard assigned to him had to inform him how you are currently attending to the his child which explains why you are late
he got a little sober and asked to show where you are
he soon dressed a little more decently albeit still smelling like alcohol and his appearance messy, he still went to find you
the guard lead the way until the emperor comes into a view where you are playing with the prince/princess along with a couple of servants
he watches at how loud his child's laughter are and the glow of your face
he feels his heart beat as if he has fallen in love again
you were nudge and turn to look at the emperor gracing you with his presence
you immediately stop tickling the young child and bow to him
words of apology came out of your lips profusely, stumbling over your words as you look down fearing for the worst
he only asked you to stand up and inspects you
your doe eyed stare makes his insides turn into mush
the young prince/princess turning to you pulling your hand to play again
the emperor looks down at his child who hid behind you from being unfamiliar with their very own father
he kneels down at the level of his child, it pains him how terrible he must've been for neglecting the sweet child his dead wife left behind
he apologizes for his behavior and promises to be on his best
the emperor saw how the little boy/girl would look up to you asking for approval to which you gave them a nod
the kid reluctantly agrees
he then turns to you apologizing and thanking you for taking care of the little one
since that day, it changed the way he looks at you
there's constantly a guard by your side especially when you are with the young child
the emperor keeps an eye on you at times
monitoring your routine
sending gifts and goods to your way
his obsession worsens day by day
he would slowly began to show interest with you
the emperor would drop his bad habits hoping you would see him in a different light
he does want to change but he can't the itching of his mind and hands to be on you
he quits alcohol and now you are his new addiction
he spends more time joining you and his only child
to sneakily get closer to you, learning about your interests and background
it makes him fall deeper in-love with you
his advances would become obvious to everyone, everyone except you
too focused on your duties to even noticed the emperor following you like a puppy
he grew even more jealous and would often take people secretly to torture
the next time you encounter those people, they would only scurry away than interact with you which places you in an odd position
he tunes it up even more through 'accidental' touches
he figures that he loves it when he's close to you, inhaling your scent almost delicious enough to taste you
he's hoping to get more so he permanently assigned you to him when you are not spending time with his child
his company intimidates you as you always feel his heated gaze
eyes scanning down from your head to toe, licking his lips while doing so
the emperor would often cage you in his arms or simply grabbing you by the waist
you get surprised everytime he does
when he couldn't handle it anymore he pins you in place and asks if you can't see how much he's pining for you
you shake your head no and he grins
"I will show you how much I want you to be mine."
he starts kissing you, making you whimper in the process
he makes you wrap your arms around him
kissing you so roughly almost taking your breath away
he rips your dress off making you yelp but he does not break the kiss
the emperor's hands would reach over to rub his palms over your skin
his touch leaves a trail of goosebumps and you feel heated
he breaks of the kiss and his lips travel south to suckle on your nipples
he plays with your breasts, teasing them and pinching them
he chuckles as he hears your whines
"patience, wouldn't be lovely if your lovely breasts swell with milk after I filled you with child?"
his words surprises you, making you worry but your mind is overtaken by lust
"yes please my emperor."
you say sultrily successfully seducing him with a sentence alone
he gets you and him naked
he feels how wet you are for him but decides that it isn't enough for him to let you accomodate to his size
so he scissors your walls with his fingers, rubbing and thrusting until his palms feel your clit
you whine and thrash around as you feel pleasure all over
back arching as he sings praises for how you're doing so well for him
you take the pleasure he gives you and soon comes undone with his hands
he pulls his hands out of your sore pussy, then brings his slick coated fingers to your lips
"open your mouth and suck it."
you comply and suck and lick slick of your release on his fingers
you taste your arousal making you clench your thighs which does not go unnoticed by him
he positions his body between your legs, grabbing you to feel you even closer
he looks down at you with lust
thrusting into you without warning
he groans at the tightness surrounding him almost rendering him motionless with how you squeeze his cock
he starts to thrust slow then suddenly went fast
you moan loudly as he fucks you hard
eyes rolling back to the back of your head
your brain shutting off from the stimulation you are receiving
he rams his cock into you with no mercy, overstimulating your clit in the process
he groans out that he is going to cum he rubs your clit with his thumb
fucking you even harder as you squeal
he thrusts so fast until he cums with a loud groan by your ear
you have your second orgasm with him filling your womb with his seed
he pulls out to see how his cum drips, he pushes it back with a thumb letting you moan a little softly
He cuddles you and you snuggle right back
You immediately fall asleep with exhaustion
he whispers in your ear that you are going to be his and his only
the emperor is determined to make you take the seat of the queen to raise his children and be his wife
he wants you to swell up with his kids marking you as his
for now he let's you rest and those plans with be continued for another day
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prythianpages · 3 months
Text
Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader
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summary: Azriel asks you for an elixir to soothe his aches and you accidentally give him the aphrodisiac you had made for Nesta, bringing to surface one of his hidden desires.
warning: this is purely smut with a breeding kink. some fluff at the end
a/n: this is based off this request. I feel like this can be read as a stand alone imagine but if you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.
**
The door creaks open, signaling Azriel’s return from a day that seemed to drag on endlessly. His wings sag under the weight of fatigue and as he steps into your study, the scent of herbs and potions are instantly wrapping him in a soothing embrace.
And there you are, a sanctuary amidst the enchanting chaos. His mate.
You're engrossed in your apothecary work. Your spell book floats in midair in front of you, your keen dark eyes scanning through the ancient text as your fingers deftly work their magic to bring the essence of the herbs to life. The sight reminds him of the day he met you, when the mating bond had snapped.
A soft smile tugs at his lips as he stands in the doorway for a moment. The fatigue that clung to him like his shadows begins to lift as he watches you, admiration and love evident in the way he drinks in the details–from the concentration in your furrowed brow to the way your pretty lips move in incantation.
The weariness he feels is soon replaced by a warmth that radiates from the depths of his heart and quiet footsteps carry him closer. He’s surprised his shadows haven’t given him away. They love you as much as he does and it is often them who greet you first.
His arms wrap around you from behind and he pulls you into his embrace. He nuzzles his nose lovingly into your neck. “Hello, love.”
“You’re home!”
He can hear the smile in your voice and you can feel the exhaustion in his body, his tense muscles finally relaxing and body slightly slouching into yours. “Long day?”
“Yes,” he responds and you’re turning in his embrace to face him properly with a gaze of deep rooted concern. He kisses your worry away. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
He takes delight in the way you grace him with a smile, your eyes softening into their natural color as you brush his hair back. “Should I draw you a bath?”
He pulls you tighter against him until you are chest to chest. Your heart, the emerald talisman kept safely in his chest pocket, hums between you. A bath sounds nice but he just wants to bask in your comfort. 
“Will you join me?”
“If you wait for me,” you reply and pull away to catch the slightest frown on his face. “It won’t be long! I have one more elixir to finish!”
Azriel’s eyes drift to the line of elixirs you have sitting on the counter behind you.  They seem to glisten enticingly under his curious gaze. “Do you have anything to soothe aches?” He asks as he reluctantly lets you go to carry on with your work. “Training was rough this morning.”
“Of course. The one with the green liquid should work,” you say as you mindlessly point to the array of potions you spent all afternoon making, failing to catch the way the aphrodisiac you made for Nesta morphs from its deep red to a verdant green. “Drink all of it, if you need to. I can always make more. Just let me seal this last one with a spell and then I can draw your–”
Your voice falters as you turn to face Azriel, your gaze momentarily flickering to the potions before settling back on him. He fails to catch the way your eyes widen in a sudden panic and swallows the sweet liquid in a big gulp. It’s only once all the liquid is gone from the vial that he picks up on your slight distress.
 "What?"
“Umm,” you stammer, your hand rubbing nervously at your neck as you sheepishly look up at him. 
“It wasn’t poison, right?” He jokes but your silence wipes the smile off his face. “y/n.”
“Of course not!”
You drop your gaze, murmuring something else quietly under your breath. Both his shadows and ears strain to discern your words but they fail in their attempt. “y/n,” he calls your name again, growing worried by the second.
You slowly raise your eyes, and as they meet his, a rush of warmth colors your cheeks, betraying the fluster that has settled on your face. You should’ve separated the love potion from the others, especially when you knew how sneaky it can be. It’s known to masquerade itself as any elixir beside it as it yearns to be used and your poor mate took the bait.
“Youaccidentallydrankanaphrodisiac.”
Though your words are mushed, your voice is louder this time and he’s able to make them out. He throws his head back and laughs. A deep and amused sound.
“You’re not mad?” You say and though he’s laughing, your body tenses at the thought of him saying yes. Your hands clasp behind your back in a timid manner, inadvertently puffing out your chest and drawing his attention there. 
“I’m not mad, love.”
His eyes land on the silver jewelry delicately hugging your neck and then to the charm with his initial. When you suck in a short breath of relief, he watches the rise and fall of the curves of your breasts as the sweet sound caresses over his skin in a heated whisper that pricks at his skin. 
“Azriel.”
“I’m fine,” he says, brushing off your concern but his gaze lingers on the movement of your chest for a moment longer before meeting yours again. He follows up with a boyish grin, despite the sudden racing of his heart and the familiar feeling of blood rushing downwards. 
“How about that bath?”
**
There’s a buzzing underneath his skin. All the soreness and ache of his muscles melts away and it’s not from the inviting embrace of the steaming bath. A burgeoning impulse stirs within him. It’s as though the elixir he consumed earlier is coursing through his veins, gathering strength and coalescing in the depths of his stomach before dropping to his hardening cock.
Every gentle lapping of the water against his hot skin, every touch of yours as you help clean him feels so good. It certainly doesn’t help that you’re putting on a show, intentional or not, as you bend down and shift around him, gracing his eyes with tempting views of your ass or breasts.
He submerges his head into the water and while his body is now clean, there’s nothing clean about his thoughts when he rises back up. You’re at the center of every single one of his whirling thoughts, filling his head with lewd images. Of you on your knees as you take him into your mouth, of you under him as he thrusts into you hard and fast, of you on your back as you let him have a taste. Fuck. He wants it all.
As you drag the stool and shift to sit behind him, he reclines in the tub. His hands are gripping the edge of the porcelain roughly, his knuckles whitening under the strain and he can feel the flicker of amusement it draws from you through the bond.
His head goes quiet when he feels your chest brush against his wings, muscles tensing as your cool breath fans over the back of his neck. A teasing brush of your fingers along a sensitive spot on his wing as you clean at them with a damp towel has him biting his lip, suppressing a whimper. It’s almost embarrassing the way you’ve barely even touched him at all and he’s already at the verge of coming undone. He feels like a touch starved horny teen all over again.
“What’s the matter, my love?” You whisper sweetly, lips hovering dangerously close to his ear. Your velvet voice is smooth and it sends a thrill down his spine and straight to his throbbing cock. When you brush your fingers along that spot again, the porcelain cracks under his grip. 
The air is thick and heavy with his scent and the damp towel falls from your grasp. When you press your hands onto his shoulders, he can feel the shift in your demeanor. “Need some help?”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
He can hear the smirk in your voice but the way you’re touching him renders him momentarily speechless and he can’t bring himself to muster a sly remark. Not when he’s completely at your mercy. He’d have to take what he can get for now.
His breath hitches when your hands graze the hardness of his chest, easing their way down to where the warm water of the bath laps at his abdomen in a slow and taunting manner. Your cool touch immediately soothes his heated skin. As you reach further down, his eyes flutter shut and head tilts back into your chest. His throat bobs when you stop right above where he needs you the most.
“Please, touch me,” he breathes, no longer caring how desperate he sounds and it’s like music to your ears.
Azriel is not one to beg…but for you? He’d do anything for you. If you’d ask him for the moon on the string, he’d deliver it to you and in this moment, he’d do so in a heartbeat. Anything to feel you. He’s aching to feel your touch. So bad it’s nearly painful.
Sensing his desperation, his shadows are trailing down your arms to his muscled chest, guiding you to Azriel’s cock so you can grant their master the relief he’s begging so sweetly for. Your teeth nip gently at his neck in approval before wrapping your hand around him and he lets out a sigh of relief.
“Like this?”
“Gods, yes.”
You continue to kiss along his neck, stroking his length just the way he likes it, drawing the sweetest whimpers and moans from him. The water laps against his chest at your movements and his nipples harden at the sensation. He’s never felt so sensitive. 
When your lips pepper kisses along one of his wings, he loses his resolve. His stomach tightens and he lets out a deep groan followed by a string of curses as he comes undone. His eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.
You kiss his temple. “Good boy.”
He doesn’t know if it's your words or the aftermath of his orgasm but that exhilarating buzz returns to his skin and he can feel the sinful liquid coursing through his veins again. More, more, more.
His eyes snap open and he stands abruptly, prompting you to do the same.
Water traces sinuous paths down his body, leaving glistening trails in their wake as he steps out from the bath. His wings unfurl behind him and his frenzied shadows disperse. Azriel’s gaze darkens until there’s only traces of hazel left behind, mirroring the gradual darkening of his shadows that envelop the room, casting an ethereal aura upon him. 
He looks like a god. 
Your knees tremble and you find yourself leaning against the counter behind you for support. His keen eyes pick up on the subtle movement, lips curling into a smirk. “You liked having me at your mercy? Hearing me beg for you, didn’t you?
You don’t answer but you don’t need to.
“My sweet girl,” he purrs as he steps forward and you clench your thighs in anticipation. “I can smell you.”
Long gone is the soft and whimpering male from moments ago. It’s as if a flip was switched from the intensity of his release. In his place, stands something darker and primal. He approaches you like you’re his prey and cages you in, his wet body pressing into yours. You keep your eyes on his, letting out a shaky breath when you feel something hard against your stomach. His smirk widens. 
“You’re all wet,” you protest weakly as you look up at him.
His hand caresses your face, a thumb sweeping in a long stroke along the side of your throat as he leans down and inhales sharply. “So are you.”
He nips at your neck the same way you did to him, his hand undoing the front laces of your dress. “It’s my turn to have my way with you, to have you at my mercy.”
Your dress pools at your feet followed by your underwear and he steps back, eyes tracing every contour of your bare body in deep appreciation. Mine, mine, mine. Dark tendrils curl around you, caressing every place his eyes do and if your scent had not given you away, the shadows would’ve. As they travel lower, they meet your dripping core, humming with eagerness. A cool stroke against your clit as a small moan escaping from your lips and when his eyes lifts back up to meet yours, there’s pure lust simmering in his heated gaze.
A slight pressure against your shoulders has you giving in and dropping to your knees in submission. It’s a silent agreement that you’re his to use and only his and he nearly growls at the sight. Desire consumes him like a raging storm, unleashing a torrent of unbridled passion. He’s filled with the primal urge to claim you and devour you in its wake. He brushes a hand against your face when you look up at him, thumb brushing against your lips.
“Open.” 
You do and your tongue eagerly swirls around the digit before sucking it into your mouth. He lets out a hum of approval, slipping his thumb out from your mouth with a pop. His hand buries itself into your hair, tilting your face the way he wants it while his other hand pumps his throbbing cock. 
He doesn’t have to ask. Your hand is already wrapping nicely around the base of him with the guidance of his shadows. You lean in to flick your tongue across his leaking head.
“Fuck,” he hisses as you take him into your mouth. His head tilts back, lost in the pleasure, barely giving you any time to accommodate his impressive length before pushing his hips forward. “So good for me.”
He begins to thrust, the hand buried into your hair guiding you to move in rhythm with him. He allows his shadows to continue to touch you and they brush along your folds, teasing your entrance. They rub against your clit and it doesn’t take them long to bring a wave of pleasure crashing over you. You’re moaning, sending delicious vibrations straight through him. His pace quickens, thrusting deeper with every snap of his hips.
“That’s it. Take it all.” he groans, digging his nails into your scalp. He holds you flush against his pelvis while you gag on him. Tears prick your eyes at the stretch but you’re desperate to bring him to his release and swallow around him. “Oh fuck.”
He feels the coil in his stomach about to snap and he wants to give in to it, to cum down your throat and make you swallow every drop. But there’s a voice inside his head, a deep and primal urge of need, that has him pulling away abruptly.
“Come here,” he says with a low growl as he beckons you to your feet and as soon as you're standing to your full height, his lips are slotting over yours in a heated kiss. 
He presses his body further into yours and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. His skin feels so hot against yours and as his shadows envelop you both, you’re stuck in a dance of fire and ice. The dark tendrils disperse and you realize you’re in your bedroom now. You almost want to laugh. The walk from your bathroom to your bedroom is a short one but your mate is keen on not wasting anymore time.
His scarred hands are rough on your hips as he spins you around and presses your front against the bed. “I need to fuck you.”
You arch your back for him. “Please.”
Deep heat spreads over his skin at your whiny and desperate tone. He slaps your ass, reminding you that he’s in complete control now. “Please what?”
“Please fuck me,” you’re begging and he loves every second of it, his cock twitching in anticipation. “I need your cock so bad.”
One hand kneads the soft flesh of your ass while the other pumps his cock. He drags his thick length along your folds, coating it in your arousal. “I’m going to fill you up so good. You want that, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes.”
He pushes into you, reveling in the way your walls are wrapping around him. You’re so warm, so tight and he’s already completely lost in the pleasure. He doesn’t give you time he normally does to adjust to his thick length. He thrusts so deep into you, your hands are clenching around your silk sheets. He fucks into you ravenously like a man starved, hands gripping onto your hips so hard you’re sure you’ll bruise.
“Going to cum so deep inside you until you’re full with my seed.”
Your face falls forward from the strength of his thrusts, knees giving out. He sees you struggling to get back on your knees so he pulls you flush against his chest with a hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing slightly. You cry out at the new angle that has you seeing stars. His breath is hot and heavy and he brings his mouth to your ear. 
“Perhaps, I’ll fuck a baby into you so everyone knows you’re mine and only mine.”
“Gods, yes,” you cry out, clenching around him, his words bringing you so close to your release.
A deep growl resonates from his chest. He can feel everything you’re feeling through the bond. You want this as much as he does. The mere image of your body changing, swelling with his child has him quickening his pace. His brain fogs and he gives himself completely to that primal desire that was brought to surface by the aphrodisiac.
Bringing his free hand to your stomach, his fingers tease at the flesh right over where he can feel the bulge of his cock as he pounds deep into you, right where your womb would grow with his seed. All he can hear are the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your pretty moans.
One brush of his thumb across your clit has your thighs shaking and screaming out his name as you reach your peak. He can feel his own release trembling underneath his skin. A couple more thrusts and wave after wave of immense pleasure courses through him. His cock twitches and then he’s spilling thick ropes of cum into you, groaning as your walls spasm and contract around him. He cums so hard, he can feel his release running down your thighs.
He pulls out just long enough to turn you so you’re on your back. A sinful smirk graces his lips at your blissed out expression but he’s nowhere near done with you. He’s still so painfully hard. More, more, more.
Positioning himself between your legs, he sinks into the delicious warmth of your hot dripping core, both moaning when he bottoms out. 
“Please.” Tears stream down your face and you’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for. You’re so sensitive, hands clenching so tightly onto the sheets as he drags his cock over and over that deep spot inside you. “Azriel, I don’t think I can–”
“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he interrupts sharply with a growl, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess beneath him. 
“Az—oh fuck.”
“You’re so perfect for me.”
His arms wrap beneath your shoulders to mold your body to his and he presses hot, feverish kisses down your neck and chest. His lips then slot over yours, stealing your breath away. When you moan into his mouth, he swallows it and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth.
He’s well aware that the elixir he accidentally took has amplified his every sense. Yet, amidst his heightened state, his love and adoration for you, so deep and genuine, remains the most enchanting potion he has ever known. The candles flicker with the green glow of your magic and he continues his brutal pace, immersing himself in the pleasure of it all with a strong determination for you both to reach another painfully delicious release.
**
Azriel blinks his eyes open and his heart melts at the sight of you, his beautiful mate, curled up in his arms. The tenderness of the morning light casts a warm glow over you, highlighting the delicate curves of your face. He gently reaches out to trace a strand of your hair, relishing the softness beneath his touch. A stark contrast to the way he handled you last night. He knows you're awake when he feels you tug on the golden strings of the bond, flooding him with a profound sense of pure happiness that seeps into every corner of his being.
“I love you so much.”
“Good morning to you too,” you say, your voice still thick with sleep, but a hint of a smile on your face.
You stretch out your sore muscles and Azriel’s eyes flash with concern when the sheets drift lower. He catches a glimpse of the bruises littering your body and you can feel a flicker of guilt down the bond. “Are you–fuck. Was I too rough? I’m so–”
You shift in the bed and silence him with a soft kiss. When you pull away, you smile at him, sending a wave of reassurance down the bond because while yes he was rough, you loved it.
“You were perfect.”
He sits up in bed and when he finds no trace of hurt or regret of how rough he was with you last night in your features, he finally relaxes and returns your smile. 
Your smile falters. “If anything, I’m sorry. It was my mistake that you drank that aphrodisiac. I made it for Nesta and I knew I should’ve stored that sneaky elixir somewhere safer but it wasn't too bad, right?”
Now it’s Azriel’s turn to brush away your concern and he shakes his head at you with a deep chuckle. "It wasn't bad at all. I enjoyed every part of your mistake."
“The best mistake I’ve ever made,” you grin and he laughs with you, his shadows dancing happily around his shoulders.
“What was in that elixir anyway?”
Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean? It’s an aphrodisiac, it stimulates sexual desire.”
“I know what an aphrodisiac is,” he replies and he feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh gods, he was going to have to say this outloud.  “I’m talking about the way I was filled with the primal urge to–to breed you.”
“Oh,” you say and laugh again at the look bewildered look Azriel was giving you. “That was all you.”
You sit up and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s gaze flickers down to your bare body. Reaching out, you coax his gaze back to yours.
“My magic does not work that way, remember? It can’t create and destroy desires. It can only bring to surface what’s already lurking deep within."
Your eyes are alight with amusement as realization dawns on your mate. He’s flustered but only for a fleeting moment. The corner of his lips curve up and when your hand begins to move from his cheek, he places his own over it to keep it there.
“You wanted it as much as I did.”
“I did.”
There’s a warmth radiating from his heart that is so strong, you can feel it too. His hazel eyes hold onto yours with an intensity that goes beyond words, and when he speaks again, there’s a delicate vulnerability to his voice because in the year since you’ve been mated, this is a topic you’ve yet to discuss.
“You want to have children…with me?”
“Yes.” The response spills from your lips without a moment’s hesitation and his entire being seems to shudder in response. “Do you?”
"Of course I do," he breathes out, sealing his words with a tender kiss to the palm of your hand that has your heart fluttering. “I want everything with you.”
“I want everything with you too.”
Happiness dances in his eyes. Azriel is not a selfish man, always putting others’ wants and needs before his own. He had even accepted that meeting his mate was an unattainable dream. That is, until you came along, dismantling the walls he had spent centuries constructing around himself.
You, a manifestation of his long-buried dreams and wishes, emerged as a living, breathing reality. The selfish desire to have everything with you consumes him, even more so when your desires always seem to mirror his. You're his perfect match and he doesn't know what he did to deserve you. He can only thank the Cauldron, forever indebted to it for entwining your soul with his.
Overwhelmed by his profound emotions, tears brim in his eyes and you're kissing them away before they can escape, smiling when his lips capture yours afterwards. He pours everything into the kiss. It starts soft and sweet but quickly morphs into something more as he brings his hands to your neck.
He pulls away, rolling over to hover over you in your bed, bracing strong arms on either side of you. He kisses your nose and lowers his body until his lips are hovering over right where your heart is racing. Another kiss.
Heat pools down and your breath hitches when he pauses at your stomach to press a kiss there. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He murmurs and you can feel his grin against your skin as he settles himself between your legs. He hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, slowly running his tongue up your thigh. The gesture draws a soft sound from you that he will never tire of hearing.
“I’m worshiping the mother of my future children.”
**
a/n: the bath scene was purely inspired by this because hot damn 🥵 I do plan on writing some future imagines of Az and reader having kids but meanwhile, you can have a glimpse at their first born from this headcannon.
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jaxon-exe · 1 year
Text
Dp x dc prompt
One day John Constantine decides to check in on the known ghost hotspot that is Amity Park and find it over run with ghost of all sorts. After over coming his first thought of “just walk away, not your problem” and deciding that it is his problem he started investigating from the shadows and finds out about Phantom. His first conclusion is that maybe phantom is the one releasing the ghost. He can obviously tell that phantom has some sort of savour complex and thinks “is this kid releasing the ghost so that he can hunt them down and save the town??” and starts looking into phantom.
That is until one day he sees phantom at the end of a rather long day. Multiple ghost having attracted throughout the previous night and all day long leaving Danny at the end of his rope, running on no sleep in the last 24 hours, utterly exhausted and he just breaks down in a back alley. John sees this from a distance and is like “ok this kid isn’t the cause of this. He’s just doing his best.”
So with phantom removed as a suspect John investigates other leads as to what might be causing the sudden spike in ghosties when the nest ghost attack happens. Up until this point he’s been following a “not my circus, not my monkeys” mentality and just letting phantom deal with the ghost and was gonna do the same thing, had turned around and started to walk away to…
….
… but god dammit the kid seems to be struggling.
So John reluctantly joins in the fight and helps phantom, revealing his presence to the kid for the first time. Now that phantom knows about him tho he can’t just walk away from any of the other fight so John ends up helping him out a lot. After a while of this John gets the bright idea of “hey the kid might not be the ones freeing the ghost but he might know the cause of it” and ask phantom about it.
Danny however being slightly paranoid clams up at the question not wanting himself or his parents in trouble and says he doesn’t know anything. U know like a liar 
Thing is Danny’s shit at lying and John sees right threw that but dammit he doesn’t know how to deal with kids???? Let alone teenagers!! Let alone dead teenagers!! The fucks he supposed to do??????
After thinking about it for awhile he could only thing of one thing.
*ring* *ring*
*ring* *ring*
*rin*-
Batman: John…
John: yeah good to hear from you to mate, lesson I got a question
Batman: hmm
John: hypothetically, if you had a case where your only lead is a kid that knowns something they probably shouldn’t and is very reluctant to tell you said thing, what would you do??
Batman:…
Batman: how old
John: 13-14??
Batman: buy them a burger. Earn their trust. Reassure them they aren’t in trouble.
John: how bloody long is that gonna take??
Batman: your in for the long hall *hangs up*
John:…. Shit
Cut to John sitting on top of a water tower with a bag of take out, felling strangely like he’s trying to coax out a stray cat, as he waits for phantom to drop his invisibility and just come eat with him. 
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keerysfreckles · 4 months
Note
luke being protective🤗🤗🤗i’m a sucker for protective guys bye
jealousy — luke castellan
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pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, luke being an asshole (not to reader), unwanted flirting, slight cursing
a/n: sorry to anyone name aiden..
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
ever since percy jackson arrived at camp half-blood, there hasn't been a new camper in months. some campers liked the peace of not worrying about which cabin the newbie would join. others missed the excitement the new camper brought to the sometimes dull camp.
the end of summer was going normal for the campers, counselors, and camp directors, until aiden mckinnan stepped foot in the camp.
everyone seemed off when they were around him.
no one could understand why, until the bonfire at the end of the night.
all the campers were seated around the large growing fire. stories were being told, smores were being eaten, and laughs were being shared. luke was in the middle of telling silena and y/n how percy made everyone laugh in archery training, however he was interrupted by someone whistling in their direction.
"damn! aphrodite really knows how to make hotties!"
the trio turned at the unexpected voice. it was aiden. he still hasn't been claimed by his godly parent, so luke was the lucky counselor who had to watch him until he got claimed.
y/n and silena awkwardly glanced at each other, while luke glared daggers at aiden.
"what do you want aiden?" luke questioned.
"just wanted to appreciate this goddess," aiden sat down next to y/n, making luke glare at him ten times harder.
y/n let out a nervous laugh, "i- uh- thank you?"
"why don't you and me go by the lake and hang out," y/n hated the emphasis aiden put on the 'hang out' part.
y/n glanced between luke and silena before responding, "sorry, i have a boyfriend."
aiden chuckles, "i don't see him anywhere princess."
luke leaned forward to look at aiden, making y/n stuck in the middle of a brewing testosterone fight.
"her boyfriend's right here," luke states coldly, placing his arm around y/n's shoulders, only making her lean into him.
aiden laughs obnoxiously, "you're with him?" he laughs louder, "oh sweetheart you could do so much better."
before y/n can respond, luke beats her to it, "why don't you just leave man? we were having a nice time before you showed up."
aiden rolled his eyes, but reluctantly left the trio and went back to his own small group of friends. silena started talking about something that happened at lunch, trying to distract the three from what had just happened. it worked well, and now they were all laughing again.
luke couldn't help but shoot a few death glares at aiden from across the fire, and he moved his hand down to y/n's waist. y/n knew luke was still angry over what aiden had said, so she simply leaned over and kissed his cheek. that easily calmed him, and luke leaned over to place a kiss on her temple.
"you guys are so cute, it's disgusting," clarisse laughs while walking by, carrying a tray of smores supplies for her and her cabin. luke simply flips her off, before listening to silena again.
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birdiewriteslit · 4 months
Note
omg omg i would LOVVVEEE if like [reader] and luke were dating behind percy’s back cuz of how sassy he would be n stuff but after like a date or kiss from luke the reader would gush about it to either annabeth, grover, or clarisse and one of them tells percy by accident during a convo and then percy like goes up to reader and confronts the reader about it and like scolds the reader and give them a whole lecture about how luke isn’t the right guy then luke overhears and like joins in <333
i love this idea!!
luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader
warnings: persassy (once again), fluff, mention of kissing, ignorance of the plot of the show for the sake of my happiness
nobody: me gaslighting myself into thinking i could fix luke:
You and your boyfriend had an agreement. Your relationship was private. It wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was private.
This was a conclusion you came to before Percy arrived at camp, before you knew you had a brother. At first, you didn’t care much if he figured it out.
That was until you realized what a sassafras he was.
Percy was always sassing you about chores, about activities, and especially about camp boys.
You thought it was cute in the beginning, your little brother being protective over you, but then it became a real nuisance.
“Y/n, stay away from the Ares boys, I don’t like them.”
“Y/n, don’t date an Apollo guy, he’d write you some crappy poetry.”
“Y/n, for the love of gods, stay away from the Dionysus twins, I never want to have Mr. D as a relative.”
These were the types of things you would hear throughout the day as Percy got to know the other campers better.
You thought it better if you kept a low profile when you were around Luke, at least until Percy calmed down a little.
Most of the older campers knew about your relationship, but they were used to it and rarely talked about it.
“Having marriage problems?” Annabeth asked you one day during arts and crafts, where you were both about to give up on your ugly collaborative birdhouse.
“What? I’m not married,” you said, trying to fix a particularly garish looking bird.
She set her paintbrush down, officially proving she was over it. “Obviously. I mean Luke. I noticed you haven’t been around each other as much.”
You could tell she was a little worried. She wouldn’t be asking if she wasn’t. Annabeth had known you and Luke longer than any other campers, and she looked up to both of you. Plus, she always wanted to know about your experience with romance.
“It’s not what you think, Annabeth. We’re really fine,” you said. “In fact, just last night, he took me out on the dock.”
Your nightly meetups with Luke had always been a thing, but had become more frequent as of late.
“And?” Annabeth prompted.
“And, we hung out.” You were now furiously painting over the entire bird you failed to fix.
“You mean you made out,” she said, giving you a knowing look.
“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you were interested in that part,” you said. “Now pick up that paintbrush, missy. I’m not doing this whole thing myself.”
Annabeth reluctantly dipped the brush in some blue paint, looking like she wanted more details about your date.
Private means private, you thought dismissively.
At campfire, you discovered that private didn’t mean private. You were sitting alone when Percy plopped down next to you. You frowned because you were saving that spot for Luke.
“Annabeth has just told me something very interesting,” he said, glaring at the spot where Luke stood, talking to one of his brothers.
“What would that be, Perce?” you said absentmindedly.
“Apparently Luke was macking on you last night.” He made a sound to imitate vomiting.
You grimaced. “Please never say that word again.”
“So? Is it true or not true?”
You sighed. No point in denying it now. “It’s true.”
Percy somehow managed to look even more disgusted. “Ew, why him?”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, gee, I don’t know, maybe because I’ve known him for years, he’s kind, strong, and handsome. Wouldn’t you think that had something to do with it?”
“Oh, gods, forget I even asked,” Percy said, retching. “I just think you could do better. Look at all of these lovely candidates. Apollo guys are poets.”
“I thought that was too cringe for you.”
He ignored you and went on, “A Hephaestus guy could forge you some nice jewelry, and Athena guys are smart. You deserve a smart guy. Not Luke, no, he doesn’t have any good qualities like that.”
You noticed a figure approaching you over Percy’s shoulder, and you tried your best to hide the amused smile threatening to break across your face as Luke came to a stop behind him, waiting for the right moment to interrupt.
“All in all, Y/n, I think Luke’s a pretty bad guy for you. You should really reconsider.”
“Oh, I’m a bad guy, am I?” Luke finally spoke up, smirking as Percy slowly turned around to see him peering down at him.
“Not like a bad guy- just, you know, not right for my sister,” Percy said, his confidence leaving him.
“What makes me not right for her?” Luke asked, clearly loving the reaction he was getting.
“I- uh- you know,” Percy stammered.
“Oh, knock it off, Luke. Leave the poor kid alone,” you said, failing to hide your laughter.
“That sound is music to my ears,” Luke said seriously. Jeez, he was really laying it on thick.
Percy’s face returned to the look of disgust. “I’ll be leaving now,” he excused himself, hurrying off to where Grover and Annabeth were sitting on the other side of the fire. You could still see him glaring at Luke as he sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.
You leaned into him, relishing in the combined warmth of the fire and his body heat. “What do you think? Am I getting sassed out tomorrow?” Luke asked, looking down at you.
“No, he looked pretty grossed out. I’m hoping he just avoids the topic altogether,” you said, trailing your fingers over the fabric of his shirt.
“We both know that’s not going to happen,” he concluded, smiling as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
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luveline · 5 months
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jade i am begging on my knees ….. any time you are up for it …… it would make me very greatly happy to see something with a bombshell!reader x hotch <33333
The office is hot today in the midst of a ninety degree summer, and your coworkers have been forced to strip down to their lightest layers, the women in linen blouses, men with their shirt sleeves rolled up high. Spencer has ditched his sweater vest reluctantly, cooling himself with a makeshift fan fashioned from printer paper, and Emily huffs next to you at her desk, overwhelmed. 
“How aren't you hot?” she demands to know. 
You lean back in your chair with a demure smile. “Mind over matter.”  
She rolls her eyes. “I shouldn't have asked.” 
Hotch's office door opens. You turn in your chair to watch him appear —even Unit Chief's get hot, apparently. He looks flustered in the heat, pink-cheeked and hair skewed ever so slightly, the most unmade you've ever seen him at work. 
You could get used to it. 
He feels you looking, narrowing his eyes. You'd like to think it was playful. For Hotch, it is. 
“Hot, handsome,” you say. 
“I'm fine.” 
“I wasn't asking.” You beam at him. 
“Enough. You know the rules.” 
He doesn't seem too mad, but he's right; you know the office rules. Don't flirt, don't start, and don't text him inside of work hours unless that text pertains to work itself. You'd started calling him instead —what are you wearing right now?— and he'd decided that text now meant any communication lest you find another loophole. You're pushing it. 
“Ah, the rules,” you say, throwing your arm across your eyes in mock distress, before peeking under it to see if he's watching. He always is. “You know rules aren't made for people like me, handsome.” 
“Stop it, final warning. Or I'll have you moved.” 
He makes being his girlfriend very difficult. You roll your shoulders and drop the act. “Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” 
“Afterwards.” 
“No, right now. Please? It's important, I swear.” 
He gestures for you to come up. You take the stairs and cross the landing to his office, where he's already stepped back inside to open the window even further on its hinge. There isn't much wind to breeze, but there is a palpable difference between his office and the bullpen. You join him at the window and let the barely cooler air fan your face. 
“What's wrong?” he asks. 
“Can you give me a quick kiss? It would really lift my spirits.” 
He laughs somewhere deep in his chest. “No, honey. Now tell me what you wanted to tell me.” 
“I have a doctor's appointment next week, on the 13th. It's a Wednesday. I was hoping for PTO, but I can take a sick day if that's not agreeable.” 
Hotch gives you the side eye, brows gently furrowed. “Everything okay?” 
“Wouldn't you like to know.” 
“I would, actually.” 
“Yeah, well, you'll have to beg for it. Not everything in life is free, Hotchner–” You break into laughter as he grabs your waist, not expecting it, your hips tender as he squeezes. “Ouch, you're kinda handsy, you know that?” 
You sound beautiful like this, laughing as you talk, so happy it lines every word. Hotch pulls your front to his, arms crossing casually behind your back, his eyes expectant. “Tell me,” he commands smoothly. 
“Because you asked so nicely, I'm just fine, but I've been feeling a little under the weather. I think I'm anaemic.” 
“And this is the first time I'm hearing about this because…” 
“Because I'm not allowed to talk to you at work!” 
He rolls his eyes as you drop a considerable amount of your weight against his arms. Usually, Hotch would meet your eyes and say, You're punishing me for a rule created out of necessity, or something to that effect, but, despite everything that might say otherwise, he really likes you. Loves you.
“I know, honey, I'm sorry. Maybe we can… allot you a few texts a day.” He analyses your expression. “One a day.” 
You squeeze his naked forearm and lift up to kiss his cheek. He stays completely still while you do it, beside the small stroke of his thumb where it rests on your back. “Thank you. I'll leave you alone now, or we might get caught fraternising with one another and lose our jobs. Oh, wait, that's not actually going to happen–” 
You burst out laughing as Hotch once again squeezes your waist in warning, the hint of a smile on his lips. 
1K notes · View notes
s-brant · 8 months
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Make It Better
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my masterlist (gif: @conradfiisher)
After getting into an argument with his brother, Conrad seeks out the comfort of a close friend.
8k (18+)
Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v, strong language, and slight angst.
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For every girl in Cousins, there was something about Conrad Fisher that made them go a little crazy. And for Y/N, a girl who grew up with the Fishers and Conklins next door every summer, it was the fact that he decided to choose her of all people to be with. Even if Belly had him first, it was all worth it to her.
With Conrad, it's all soft-spoken praises, feather light brushes off his fingertips against forbidden places, and sensual kisses. It's all she can see when she closes her eyes to sleep at night or merely blinks during the day. It's hard to keep it a secret when her mind refuses to stop recalling the memories at a constant rate. Still, she has to be on her best behavior seeing that it is the last night they have together before the house is officially sold by Aunt Julia. And to honor their summer house, they collectively decided to throw a goodbye party.
The vibration of the bass thumping within the walls of the house is strong enough to rattle her eardrums as she takes a shot with her arm interlinked with Cam Cameron's. He, of course, is drinking a can of soda, but she was quick to assuage his insecurity when he mentioned it. It was the thought that counted.
She and Cam have been friends since they were in middle school, so, when he joined their circle of friends through Belly last year, it made her happy to have him around in the way Jere, Steven, Conrad, and Belly always were. When he and Belly ended their fling, she was there for both of them. She hugged Cam for a minute straight before letting go and offering to cheer him up with ice cream. For Belly, she told her she did the right thing by not leading him on and told her to follow her heart, wherever it may lead her, as they swam in the pool.
How was Y/N supposed to know it would lead her straight into the arms of the boy she's always loved?
"Okay," Cam rips her from her thoughts as he speaks, shoving his hydroflask filled with ice water into her hands, "You are officially cut off for the night until I see you drink some of this. I think your blood may be fifty percent tequila at this point."
She frowns at him.
"You're no fun, but I appreciate you looking out," she says.
She stays with him to swallow a few generous mouthfuls of water before handing the bottle back to him with a quiet, "Thank you. M'gonna go find Connie and Steven."
The last she checked, the two of them were taking pictures with the Polaroid camera they bought at the store earlier. They called her and Belly over to take turns taking pictures together. One of them all together, one of Y/N and Steven, then Belly and Conrad, and, finally Y/N and Conrad.
It was hard to watch Belly pose with him considering their extensive history together, but he knew that, and when it was her turn to pose with him, he wrapped his hand around her waist and entwined his fingers in hers to give it a reassuring squeeze. This made it extremely difficult for her not to smile too hard as she looked at the camera lens.
After the flash went off, Steven, the only person to know the details of their recent, days-old affair, says, "Wait, one more! One more! You'll thank me later, I swear."
With Belly having skated off, Taylor doing God knows what, and Jere lingering not far from wherever Belly went, they didn't feel too worried when they were directed to hug for the camera. Her cheek squished against his, their chests rising and falling to meet one another like matching puzzle pieces, and the scent of his body wash—the proximity to him was intoxicating.
"Okay, smileee—"
The flash off went off, and they stayed together for a few seconds longer than necessary before reluctantly pulling apart.
Steven handed each of them one of the pictures with a wink before saying, "Alright, Taylor wants me to do shots with her. I'll probably be back soon."
Conrad got the first one and she got the second. They couldn't help how they smiled as they stood side by side to admire them. His was carefully placed in the back pocket of his pants, which then made her realize that she did not have any pockets herself.
"Can you keep it safe for me?" she asked with a bright, moony-eyed expression. Her hands then slid down the front of her dress to feel for any place to store the photograph only to come up empty. "It's my own fault. Shouldn't have worn a dress."
His eyes softened as they looked up and down the length of her body, then settled back on her eyes.
"No," he said before he could stop himself, "it's perfect."
Her breath hitched in her throat, and she was about to open her mouth to speak when Cam and Skye called her name from across the room.
After a second, he spoke again, "I'll catch up with you later, Padme."
When he turned to walk away, he heard her giggle from behind his back at the inside joke shared between the two of them.
As she searches through the house for him now, she smiles to herself at the thought of it. It originated when they were mere children. After finishing a marathon of the Star Wars franchise in release order—the only correct way to watch it according to Susannah and Laurel—one summer, they all became obsessed with playing pretend with sticks as lightsabers. A week later, once it became apparent that it wasn't a fleeting phase, Susannah surprised them with toy lightsabers.
Somehow, they decided amongst themselves who was who, and it just so happened that Y/N was Padme and Conrad was Anakin. Jere and Steven made a deal to take turns playing Obi-Wan Kenobi since they originally both wanted to be him, and Belly, the youngest of the bunch, was so happy to be included that she would play whatever character they wanted her to for the day. The only roles that never changed were Anakin and Padme. Even when they got to the main trilogy in their game of pretend, Conrad played Darth Vader, and Y/N let Belly be Princess Leia while she played as Darth Sidious. One way or another, they were always paired in some way. Fated.
They much preferred playing as the star-crossed lovers as opposed to the pair of evil Sith Lords. It pleased her more than she ever let on that she and Conrad were together, even if it was just pretend. They've always teasingly called each other by those names ever since.
She peeks into every entryway when she walks by in hopes that she'll spot Conrad or Steven, but neither of them appears. It isn't until she steps out onto the front porch after searching the whole lower level of the house that she finds one of them. Well, actually, she hears one of them. Conrad.
"Jere, you know for a fact that I came home every second I could—"
"But it wasn't every day!"
Jeremiah, she notes as she stands with her back against the front door. Neither of them sees her.
"Okay, okay," Conrad retorts. "What do you want? A medal?"
What Jere says next makes her have to look away in the direction of the neighbor's yard, not wanting to see the heartbreak written across his brother's face as he calls him a coward. Her jaw tightens with every vitriolic word spewed at him. It isn't her place to interrupt, but it kills her to stand by and listen.
"You're not someone to look up to. You're not even someone I wanna know."
The universe must have a cruel sense of humor, because the second these words are said, someone trying to swing the door open against her back sends her stumbling forward into their line of vision. The sound of her falling to her hands and knees brings their attention away from one another instantly.
Her eyes meet Jeremiah's first, then they immediately switch to lock eyes with Conrad, and the first thing out of her mouth is, "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop or anything. I just came out here cause I couldn't find you guys. I'll go back inside." Despite her anger at what she overheard, she makes sure to look at both of them when she says, "I'm sorry."
She's already on her feet and facing the front door, abandoned by the guy who tried to walk out only to be greeted with this shit-show, when Jeremiah says, his tone harsh, "Don't. I was already leaving."
This makes her stop in her tracks, her hand frozen in place where it grabs the door handle, and, after she listens to Jere's footsteps gradually disappear, she turns back around.
Conrad is closer now than he was a second ago. Rather than remain in the driveway where he and his brother argued, he stands on the porch with his hands in his pockets. The look on his face...it's heartbreaking. His eyes are glassy, his lips downturned into a slight frown he tries to keep at bay, and knows based on the look he gives her alone that he will never forget what Jere said to him tonight.
She says softly, "Connie," unsure of what else to say to him, but that's all it takes to open the floodgates.
Silent tears start to fall down his cheeks as she closes the distance between them to take him into her arms in a comforting embrace. He bends down a little to allow his head to rest on her shoulder. Her hand cups the back of it to cradle his face into the soft crook of her neck, giving him the shelter he needs from the rest of the party to cry it out. The arms wrapped around her waist squeeze tightly enough to push the air from her lungs, but she never complains. To be in his arms is a blessing regardless of the reason and circumstances behind it.
They remain this way for the better half of a minute before he has the courage to break the silence. The hand on the back of his head brushes through his hair in a repetitive motion in hopes that it will soothe him.
"Do you wanna get out of here?" he asks. "I just"—he shakes his head—"I can't think straight right now..."
She nods.
"We can go to my house."
The Fishers and Conklins aren't nearly as familiar with her family's summer house as she is with theirs, but they have been inside a few times. On days when he didn't feel like being around everyone last summer, Conrad would come over and sit in the chair in the corner of her room, blowing the smoke from his joint out of the window while she cleaned, folded laundry, or read whatever book Laurel had recommended to her at the time. It was domestic in a way that made her heart skip a beat. It made her imagine how it would be in the future if they were together. If they truly ended up getting married as they pretended to when they were children while playing as Anakin and Padme.
She reaches down and entwines their fingers in order to lead him away in the direction of the house next door. It's a short walk over the fence gate that connects their yards. That was Susannah's doing. Five years into her friendship with the kids in her house, she and Y/N's parents agreed to install a new fence with a gate between their two properties to allow their children to play without having to leave the yard.
With everyone busy partying, no one should come back to sleep until way later. It wasn't until after they arrived back from their night at the country club that she remembered where her mom kept the spare key, so the others may forget their plans to sleep there. If they do, she'll shoot them a text in the group chat to remind them rather than allow them to sleep on the floor.
The door is already unlocked from when she went inside to shower and get ready with Taylor and Belly before the party, so all it takes is her turning the handle to allow them access.
She drops his hand once the door is kicked shut behind them and looks over her shoulder to say, "I think there's frozen food in the garage freezer if you're hungry," as she walks toward the kitchen. "And there's still my mom's Diet Coke in the fridge. We could always mix it with my dad's whiskey if you wanna keep drinking."
From behind, she can hear his footsteps on the freaking hardwood floor, getting closer and closer until his hand wraps around her arm to spin her around to face him.
"What—"
The question is cut short by his lips crashing against hers.
Kissing Conrad is something she doesn't think she will ever get used to or grow tired of. No matter how many times it happens, which, so far, has been at least three times since the night they spent at the country club, it takes her breath away the same as it had the first time when they were just children playing pretend.
Her arms are thrown around his neck in less than a second to pull him closer, and she doesn't hesitate to kiss him back. Not even for a second. At first, she is too intoxicated with the thrill of having him touching her to remember why they came here in the first place. Every thought revolves around him—the taste of the alcohol on his tongue, the feeling of his chest pressing against hers, and how confidently his hands find their place on her waist.
A second later, the memory of the fight he and Jere had comes back to her, and she forces herself to push him away.
"Wait," she says with her hands flattened against his chest to create some distance between them. "Wait, Connie."
When he opens his eyes, they're overflowing with concern for her. She already knows that he is assuming he made a mistake or that she doesn't truly want to do this with him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, she is the one who is concerned for him.
"Are you okay? You and Jere just..." Her expression softens a little. "I don't wanna do this unless I know you're sure you're alright."
The confusion evident on his face disappears by the time she's finished speaking. In his mind, he anticipated something much worse than her wanting to check in on him to make sure he was okay. As the seconds passed between her telling him to wait and him looking at her, he feared she'd take back everything they shared in the past few days. All the secret kisses, gentle touches, and giggles. He wasn't sure he could take losing another one of the girls he grew up with in that way.
He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and stares at her without saying a word. If it were anyone else, it would be uncomfortable, but it never is with them. That's part of what keeps bringing him back to her. Of course, it can't end well seeing that he dated Belly, she's friends with her, and they had such a messy break-up, but what is he supposed to do? Ignore his feelings? Pretend not to want her when he clearly does? He can't do it. He won't. Now that he's already had a taste of her, he can't resist any it longer.
His chest rises with a deep inhale, then—
"I fucked everything up, and I knew Jere must have resented me for it, but I didn't think it was that bad," Conrad says. "I'm sad and angry, of course, but that doesn't mean you'd be taking advantage." He lets the tip of his nose brush hers with how close he comes. His voice is hardly a push of air when he speaks again. "You make everything feel better. You always have."
She doesn't allow him to kiss her again. Instead, she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck and keeps her eyes on his, not giving in even when their noses bump together and the heat of his exhales cloud on her skin. The kitchen table he has her pressed up against digs into her back, keeping her pinned in place exactly where he needs her.
"So, that's what you want?" she asks in a hushed tone even though they have the house to themselves. Every breath they take is pulled from the little pocket of air between their faces, and they can both smell the liquor on each other's breath every time they exhale. The hands on her waist slowly descend until they settle on her hips. "You want me to make it better?"
The moment she says the words, Conrad seems to melt into her touch. That is all it takes to turn him to putty in her hands, and he nods in response with his face pressed against hers.
"Is that okay?"
In other words, is that what you want? Have you been dying to get your hands on me the way I have been dying to get mine on you? It feels like a lifetime since they first hooked up in a secluded room at the country club, but it hasn't been more than a day.
In lieu of a verbal answer, she closes the inch of distance between them and connects their lips in a tender kiss.
He reciprocates with a passion that ramps up the intensity in a matter of seconds, quickly turning it from its initially timid and gentle nature into something more desperate and needy.  Those hands on her hips squeeze hard to keep control and steady her body as he presses her further into the table, making her back arch a little. Her hands wander to explore every part of him now that she knows he wants this again, and she slips them up underneath his shirt to feel his bare skin beneath her palms. But when her hands make contact with his nipples, he shivers.
Their lips disconnect, shining from the saliva they share, for him to murmur, "Cold hands," as explanation before reaching down for the hem of her dress. She helps him shimmy the tight material up from where it gets stuck around her breasts until it is pulled free and tossed somewhere on the kitchen floor behind her, leaving her in only her undergarments. And he is quick to dispose of those too. Nimble fingers fumble with the clasp of her bra for a few seconds, then it finally comes loose around her back.
But, that's the last thing she lets him take off of her before she puts a hand on his chest to stop him.
Without saying a word, she grasps the bottom of his shirt and starts lifting it up to reveal his bare chest to her. He takes the hint without a second of confusion, pulling it the rest of the way off. It drops from his grasp the second it's off his head and abandoned in favor of aiding her in her attempt to undo his pants with those soft, trembling hands.
In a way, it feels similar to their first time. It was against a wall at the country club the other night after they became bored looking for a place to sleep. All they knew was that they needed to make it quick, so they did. His hand disappeared down the front of her panties to help her along, the pressure of his fingertips rubbing her clit bringing a wetness that soaked the cotton fabric concealing her from view, and that was all the preparation they took before it happened. He asked, voice quiet and low, if she'd done it before when she began tugging on his shirt as they made out, so once she said she had, all bets were off.
The thought of it slows him down for a second.
That time, they had to get it over with quickly. If they hadn't, the others likely would have gone looking for them and found out what was going on in the office room they snuck into. It was rough and quick and passionate, and he liked that, he truly did, but recalling that now makes him want to do it differently this time. Especially considering what happened before they came into this house.
"Slower, slower," he murmurs into her mouth.
The adjustment is made instantly, and she allows him to take back full control of the kiss. With his hands pulling her hips flush against his, he surrenders to the urge to rut against her to relieve the aching of his hard cock through the material of his boxer briefs and unzipped pants. He invades her open mouth with his tongue and kisses her slower, deeper than he had the last time. His teeth nip playfully at her lower lip in the second he takes to pull back for air.
His hands cup her face on either side to keep her in place as he dips down to kiss the underside of her jaw. He doesn't dare to leave any marks behind where anyone could see them, but he does take his time and suck gently on the sweet spot on the gentle slope where her shoulder and neck bridge together. Faintly, they can both hear the music from his house next door over the wet sound of his lips on her neck.
The other day, they didn't have the time to do everything he wanted to with her, but tonight they do. Tonight, he has her to himself for the first time in months, and he isn't going to take that opportunity for granted. Everything with her happened too fast for him to process. Last week, he'd been caught up on Belly, and part of him still is, but, then, Y/N came into the picture in a way he never expected. Despite the fear of ruining their lifelong friendship, to be with her felt as natural a process as breathing.
The hands on her face slip down the sides of her neck and down the front of her body until they find the band of the thin little thong she chose tonight for the sake of not having panty lines through her dress. Part of it also had to do with the possibility of this happening again, but she'd never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
It appears, however, that he already knows when she finds the end of his mouth tipping upwards in a slight smirk as his fingers hook around the fabric. Seeing that they just hooked up yesterday and that these are a decent step up from the boy-short panties patterned with flowers he saw her in before, it isn't too difficult to put together.
Conrad sinks down onto his knees to tug it down her legs, and before her cheeks can begin to burn with embarrassment, she warns him, "Don't even."
This draws a giggle from him, his head tilting back to let him look up at her. Even in the midst of their playfulness and laughter, the sight of him kneeling before her makes her go weak in the knees. The strands of hair hanging in his eyes frame his face with an effortlessness she has envied him for her whole life. His beauty is classic, statuesque, even. He is the specific type of attractive that never falls out of trend or becomes less shocking over time. At least, not for her.
"I didn't say anything."
She counters, still laughing, "You didn't have to!"
At this point, she is grinning from ear to ear, and it's difficult to be self-conscious about being laid bare in his presence when he's looking at her like that. Her left leg is lifted off of the ground for her underwear to slide off of her ankle, but he doesn't put it back down. Instead, he turns his head to kiss her sensitive inner thigh, leaving her with nothing to do except watch while the anticipation of what he plans on doing eats her alive.
Unlike her neck, he has no qualms about marking up her thighs. It may be mildly uncomfortable to forgo wearing shorts in the summer heat, but it's doable. She can wear some of the bottoms she has stored in the dresser upstairs to keep the others from seeing if need be. His other hand grips her right hip to keep her steady while his other has her bent leg propped over his shoulder. Soon, his kisses have made a path up the length of her thigh, and she can't help but breathe heavier when she feels the heat of his exhales at the apex of her thighs.
"Connie..." she breathes out.
This brings his attention up, eyes fluttering open from where they'd been closed as he inched closer and closer to where she wants him most. And when she finds him looking up at her, pupils dilated and lips swollen from kissing, she can hardly breathe.
He asks, "You nervous?"
Words fail her. All she can do is nod.
"Don't be," Conrad whispers, the hand on her hip reaching to take hers in it for the sake of comforting her. "It's just me."
To this, she chuckles a little and tries not to shift in place with the sheer discomfort of the need she feels for him in this moment. No one has ever done this specific sexual act with her before, so the nerves are strong, but not quite as strong as her curiosity or desire.
"That's exactly why I'm nervous."
Her free hand comes down to brush the hair out of his face, and he leans into the touch like a cat brushing up between your legs. His eyes shut again for a second to appreciate the sweet gesture before looking up at her again, a slight grin begging to come to fruition on his face.
"Let me make it better, then," he says softly, in that charming, distinctly Conrad way that could take any girl's breath away with ease.
The first flick of his tongue against her is gentle, a mere glimpse of what's to come, but it stuns her all the same. Never having experienced this before, she is extremely sensitive to anything he does to her, and she finds that she's far more sensitive when it's his mouth pleasuring her as opposed to his fingers. Every soft brush of his lips against her in teasing kisses makes her hips press forward into his face in a silent command to continue without her noticing that she's doing it. He is quick to notice it, though, and he doesn't continue to tease her any longer.
This time, when he spread her open on his tongue, he gives her what she wants.
Sparks of pleasure shoot through her the second she feels him lapping at her aching clit, soft and gentle at first until he feels her grinding herself forward against his face for more. With her soft sighs and stifled moans as encouragement, he dips his head between her legs and eats her like a man starved. The remaining leg she stands on is quickly guided over his other shoulder, and his hand slips out of hers in favor of taking hold of her hips. The supple flesh of her ass is soft where it is squeezed beneath his fingertips and used as leverage to bring her as close as possible.
"Mm," she whines, "Fuck..."
The ability to speak evades her in the heat of the moment, but they both know how much she's enjoying this without her having to come out and say it. If the sounds she's making weren't enough, the hand she has gripping the back of his head to keep his mouth on her would prove it.
She knew from conversations overheard between the boys that Conrad was no stranger to this kind of thing. It may have made her heart sink into the pit of her stomach to hear it back then, but, right now, she's thankful for his experience. Every lick, kiss, and caress is placed exactly where she needs it as though he's able to read her body without having to open his eyes. The pleasure he's giving her far outweighs the jealousy she feels when she remembers that he's done this with other girls, one of them possibly being Belly.
The taste of her arousal, slick on his lips and tongue, has him humming in contentment into her as though he is the one being pleasured by this. In a way, he is. There's something intoxicating about being surrounded by her in every sense like this—her weight on his shoulders, her hands in his hair, and her thighs clamped shut on either side of his face. His dick strains against the fabric of his underwear as well as his unzipped pants, pulsing with the desire to sink into her and find his release.
She cants her hips to grind down on his face in pursuit of something closer, something deeper that they can't manage like this. And it isn't long before she starts to pull gently at his hair, reaching down and trying to pull on his arm to get the message across.
Conrad's lips part from her soaked pussy with a wet sound. When he looks up at her from between her thighs, she can see how his lips and chin are smeared with her arousal. It glistens under the moonlight coming in through the kitchen window. In seconds, the moment is already gone. The hands gripping her hips slide down to take hold of her thighs in order to guide them off of his shoulders, and when he sets her back down onto the ground, her muscles are trembling.
He's standing back up at his full height with his body slotted perfectly between her legs in the time it takes her to blink. Their next kiss is hungrier, much more aggressive in nature, than the last they shared, and she can taste herself on his lips.
In the gaps between their fervent kisses, she says, breathless, "I know you wanted to go slower this time, but I can't." His tongue invades her mouth again, pushing past her soft lips to allow the taste of her lip balm to blend with the semi-sweet taste of her pussy. It's only when his tongue retreats to give him the chance to bite down on her bottom lip that she can speak again. "Please," she whines and juts her hips out until she feels him hard against her. "We can go again after, I just want you now."
This sends him into a bit of a frenzy.
He has had his fair share of hook-ups—not nearly as many as Jere but plenty—yet there's something about her that thrills him in a way few others ever could. No girl has ever said anything like that to him. With Belly, it was her first time, so everything was tender and experimental due to the nature of the situation. With Y/N, it's different in the sense that they cannot be fairly compared. How could anyone compare a gentle, sweet first time with what may end up being the best fuck of his life, surpassing the quickie at the country club that left them both breathless and weary.
Conrad is panting for air when their lips part, their mouths hanging open and brushing as he hefts her up onto the table with little effort. Beneath her hands, she can feel his biceps flex with the quick lift. Taut muscle contracts and pushes back against her fingers before relaxing again once her ass is planted on the tabletop, but if it weren't for her hands gripping his arms for support, she wouldn't have noticed it had any effect on him. It's strangely arousing. She never gave his casual strength much thought until he utilized it in this context for the first time. A thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead when he had to keep her lifted against the wall at the country club as he thrust into her, but he didn't struggle.
Please. He hears her whining the word on a loop in his mind as he aids her in shoving his pants and underwear down his lean thighs. We can go again after. She wraps her hand around his length and pumps a few times despite the fact that he's already hard enough for it to ache. All the while, he's still stuck on the things she said. We can go again after. Not only does she want him now, she already knows she'll want him again. I just want you now. That crucial part gave him the answers he'd been seeking for the past twenty-four hours since he pinned her to the wall at the country club and fucked her hard enough to make the framed paintings shake on their hooks. I just want you now. It was life-altering for her too.
As he angles his hips just right to guide the broad tip of his cock into her, his fingers dig into her hips so hard, she'll be shocked if it doesn't bruise by tomorrow.
She uses the legs wrapped around his hips to push him further into her, and they both gasp at the sensation it brings them. Her heels press into the backs of his thighs, urging him to take whatever he wants from her whenever he wants it. It doesn't matter that the stretch she feels the further she urges him inside of her almost makes her have to bite down on her lip to contain a wince. Nothing matters to her except for getting as close to him as physically possible.
He lets out a low, drawn-out, "Oh fuckkk," under his breath as he sinks the rest of the way into her.
Their noses bump with every slight movement made or breath taken in, and she refuses to look away from his eyes. There's something inherently vulnerable about holding unwavering eye contact with him while he is buried in her to the hilt. The hands on his biceps slide up slowly until both of her arms are wrapped behind his neck to keep him from shying away from her at any point. This is the closeness she craved more than anything. Nothing else would do, not even having him on his knees for her.
It's a wonder that he doesn't come right away with how tightly the soft, warm walls of her pussy are squeezing around him. And when she bucks her hips up in a wordless request for him to move, he shakes his head.
Eyes clenched shut, Conrad murmurs, "I just need a second."
He feels her nod against his face, her nose nudging his cheek. For the next thirty or so seconds, he remains as still as possible. It's torture for him to stay this way and resist doing what comes naturally. Although it's for his sake, not hers, he struggles to keep a firm enough hold on his self-control. He keeps his eyes shut because he knows that if he looks at her, he won't stand a chance.
It isn't until the fire that blazed in the pit of his abdomen has calmed that he allows himself to look at her again. When he opens his eyes, she's already watching him. Her fingers twirl strands of his hair absentmindedly, and when she sees him open his eyes again, she closes the gap between their lips again.
This time, as his lips slot against hers, he draws away from her, pulling out until it's only his tip inside of her.
"You don't have to be gentle," she murmurs. "I can take it. I won't break."
His response comes in the form of him snapping his hips into her until he's gone as deep as she can take him. Despite her urging him to get rougher with her, she still gasps at the sudden intrusion and looks up at him with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. Her past hook-ups were meaningless and unfulfilling. It happened during her freshman year at Trinity College while Conrad and Belly were dating. Considering what was going on at the time, she didn't plan to talk to either of them about it afterward, and, once it was as over, she didn't want to.
It was horrible.
It was the polar opposite of her first time with Conrad. Not only was it with an uncaring frat boy she met at a party her roommate dragged her to, it was uncomfortable. He didn't do anything other than get himself hard and stick it in, and with her nerves being so bad, it was already hard for her to get aroused. But it couldn't be any more different now. It couldn't be any more different with him.
It's rougher than it was initially, yet still slow and sensual. The hands on her hips guide her into a cadence to match his movements each time he thrusts into her, stifling the sound of his own low moans by smearing his mouth against hers. It's a messy, open-mouthed kiss. Their tongues brush, saliva coating their lips, and he makes sure there isn't a single part of her left un-worshiped tonight. Whether it be her neck, her collarbone, or her jaw, he pays every part of her the attention it deserves, partly for her sake and partly because he cannot help himself.
Their lips pull apart with a loud smacking sound, and he keeps his forehead pressed to hers as he looks into her eyes, head tilting just slightly to the side. One of his hands abandons its place at her hip to slide up the length of her torso. Her stomach flinches inward at the contact of his knuckles brushing her skin on the way past, but it's when he lets his hand flatten over her breast that she lets out a shaky exhale, He doesn't spend too much time there, though. After teasing her with a gentle squeeze, his hand wraps around the back of her neck for the sake of having control of where she looks, and, right now, he wants her to look at him as he admits something to her.
"I've dreamt about this," Conrad whispers.
He delights in her slack-mouthed expression when he ruts into her a touch faster and harder for the sake of seeing the expression on her face shift.
Somehow, she finds her voice and manages to stammer out, "I"—she is interrupted by the need to take in a sharp breath of air—"I thought..."
The hand on the back of her neck squeezes harder at the implication of her unfinished statement. It isn't necessary for her to continue the thought, he already knows what it means. I thought you dreamt about Belly. He did. He dreamt of Belly every night last summer, but it was Y/N who he dreamt of first.
She was the one who awakened these feelings within him for the first time. Being the oldest alongside him, she was the first to develop, and he didn't know what to do with the feelings that surfaced the summer she came back looking less like a girl and more like a woman. She was the first person he kissed, albeit for a game they played together, not Belly. Surely, he thought she had to know that it meant something to him too, but when he looks at her now, it's clear that he thought wrong.
His brows pinch together at the sensation of her tightening up around him, but his eyes are soft. Tender. Honest. He shakes his head. Just once.
"You were first," he says it so quickly, she almost misses it. "It was you."
That doesn't mean what he had with Belly meant nothing. In fact, it means the opposite. What he had with Belly was unlike anything he experienced before, but so is this. There is no way for Conrad to compare the two because what he feels for them is so solid yet different.
With Belly, he knew what he meant to her. He knew she put him on a pedestal her whole life and believed every word he said, so it was difficult not to feel an added pressure to live up to that standard. His heart broke when he ruined prom for her, but he did it because he thought he didn't deserve her.
With Y/N, they've always mirrored one another. Both the eldest in their respective families, gifted children, and sensitive in a way that troubled them more than most of their siblings and friends. Where everyone else misunderstood Conrad, she understood him. And it was never something that had to be acknowledged out loud or spoken of. It was a law of existence.
The summer before last, when Conrad got into reading as a result of Laurel gifting him a few of her favorite classics, he ended up insisting that Y/N read Wuthering Heights shortly after he finished it. Never having read for pleasure before, she thought she'd find it difficult to devote herself to it, but she should have known. She should have known that if he wanted her to read it, there were good reasons for it. Belly and the boys were having dinner with their moms when she finally got to his favorite line.
It was underlined in red ink, she noted, not pencil. Never to be erased or undone in any way. When she read it, she knew immediately that he'd done it for her. On the page, it read, "He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same," and that was the moment she knew she loved him.
Right now, as he kisses her and reaches down with the same hand that held her neck to rub her clit, it's all she can think of. So, she says it. She takes the vulnerable confession and offers one of her own in return.
"You were first for me too," she says breathlessly.
The contact of his fingertips brushing her most sensitive spot has her jolting against him in equal parts shock and pleasure. It instantly makes the feeling of him rocking into her at a steady pace all the more gratifying. What she said is fuel to the fire for him. It urges him on, chasing the weightless, stirring feeling inside of him with reckless abandon. He decides to trust what she said about being able to handle him not being gentle, because, truth be told, he can't control himself.
Conrad, lost in the haze, starts sucking at her neck after he leans down to kiss it. Everything outside of this house no longer exists to either of them, so it doesn't occur to them that they'll have to answer for the marks left behind on her come morning. No, all he can think of is what he feels for her and how he can possibly show her the full extent of it without telling her. This is the only way, he thinks. When he talks, he fucks everything up, but she has to know how he feels through this. After all, she's always had a sixth sense when it comes to him. Why should it be any different now?
Her fingers card through his hair and tug gently on the soft strands as she tips back her head and arches her body into him, gasping into the dark, empty kitchen. Even when he kisses his way back up to her lips, he remains trapped in the trance she put him under, taking every part of her for himself. It takes her crying out in bliss at the combined sensations of his fingers on her clit and the smooth, wet drag of his cock inside of her for him to meet her gaze again. This time, he doesn't dare look away. Neither does she.
Their eye contact never wavers as she murmurs, face twisted in pleasure, "Fuck, I think—"
Her sentence can't even be finished before she's coming undone from the next caress of his fingers against her.
The arms wrapped around the back of his neck pull him in as her body tenses up with the onset of her climax. Not only does he watch and listen as the euphoria washes over her, he feels it. He can feel her spasming around him, clenching and unclenching, through every powerful wave.
Her jaw has fallen open in a gape that allows every beautiful moan, gasp, and whine to escape into the space between their lips. And it's the sensation of her coming around him that threatens to send him over the edge, but he holds out for as long as he can. Both for the sake of helping her ride it out and prolonging his own orgasm.
He pulls out quickly out of fear of finishing inside and withdraws the fingers that were rubbing her clit to wrap them around his cock, stroking himself once, twice, three times until he comes with a breathy moan. Watching it drip down her trembling stomach heightens the swift pulses of pleasure, and when his body jerks involuntarily from how good it feels, the next rope of cum lands across the hickeys on her inner thighs. It's downright filthy, but he'll be damned if it isn't the most erotic thing he's ever seen in real life.
For a second, time is suspended to allow them both the chance to catch their breath and enjoy the comfort of each other's embrace. Her arms are still linked around him, trapping him in, and he lets his face fall forward onto her shoulder with a tired sigh. It's impossible for either of them to find words in the midst of their post-orgasmic bliss, so they don't bother trying. Much like how it has been for their lives preceding this moment, the silence is comfortable. There is no misunderstanding, awkwardness, or trying to fill the space with meaningless small talk.
Once the rapid rise and fall of their chests have evened out, Conrad pulls away from his cherished spot in the crook of her neck and kisses her one last time before coming back down to earth.
He's already pulling his pants back up before moving to get a few paper towels from the kitchen counter, telling her, "Stay there, I got it."
The sound of the tap turning on reaches her ears, then vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and it isn't long before Conrad is back in front of her. Every swipe of the damp wad of paper towel is gentle on his skin, carefully minding where she's particularly sensitive in the aftermath of what they did. As he wipes his release up from her stomach and thighs, he folds the towel in half to clean her again, then, once he's finished, he leans down with one hand cupped underneath her thigh and presses a kiss to one of the marks he left behind.
Her face burns hot at this, but she tries not to let it rattle her brave face.
"You're lucky I like you so much," she says, tilting her head to show him her neck, "cause this is gonna be impossible to hide."
He can't even stop the smirk from crossing his face at the sight of her freshly bruised skin. Yet, he doesn't answer right away. He simply continues to smile to himself and walks around the island she's perched on, digging in the freezer for something for the next moment or so. When he returns, he's holding up a bag of frozen peas as though it is a coveted trophy.
"This will help," he says and gently presses the cold bag over the spot on her neck. "Thank you, by the way."
She blinks at him.
"For what?"
His shoulders pull up in a shrug as he tries to find the right way to word it without it sounding like he's only talking about the sex.
"For everything." He says softly, rubbing the edge of her jaw with his thumb. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't know what you mean to me."
The room has been plunged into silence since they stopped moaning, panting, and joining their bodies together. All that can be heard over their voices is the music next door, as well as loud voices speaking in the back and front yard. In here, though, it's just them, and he can hear how her breath hitches in her throat at what he said.
"It was confusing last summer, but ever since you underlined that part in the book you gave me, I've known. At least to some extent," she admits. "I knew you did that for me."
He nods.
"I did."
There's a long pause, then—
She breaks her gaze with him and looks down at the floor, smiling like an idiot at the thought of what has transpired in the last forty-eight hours. Seeing her clothes in a pile on the floor prompts her to take the frozen peas from him and jump down from her seat on the counter.
As explanation, she says, holding the bag to her neck, "We should probably get back to the party before anyone notices we're gone."
He casts a quick glance to the counter where they fucked for a second before looking at her again.
"And probably clean that."
A giggle escapes her when he says this.
"Yeah, we definitely should."
-
Hello! Finally wrote a Conrad fic! If you enjoyed it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you want to be added to a tag list for future Conrad fics, let me know as well. Thank you.
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hotchscvm · 9 months
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dildo shopping
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pairing: aaron hotchner x reader
summary: aaron catches you dildo shopping.
word count: 1k
warnings: sex toys, emily being a little shit
Telling Emily about your less-than-adequate one-night stand had been a mistake. After being short with everyone for the whole day, she finally confronted you about the change in attitude and you confessed the guy you brought home the night before had gotten off without returning the favor.
She had asked when was your last orgasm and you had to think about it before telling her it had been a while. With that reply, she dragged you to the closest mall. That's how you ended up in front of a Spencer's.
You raised an eyebrow at Emily, sighing loudly as you reluctantly followed her inside. "Seriously, Em? I think I could've just bought a vibrator online or something."
"That could take days to come and you clearly need this now." Emily leads you to the back section, giving you a look. "Don't argue with me, you yelled at Rossi after he got your coffee order wrong today."
"I literally have no memory of that," you replied, trying to think if that situation had happened. "I didn't even drink coffee today."
Emily holds up an "I love Milfs" t-shirt briefly. "Because you threw it in the garbage after cussing him out in Italian. Rossi teaching you Italian really came back to bite his ass today."
"Whatever," you said, a twinge of guilt crawling into your heart. You shrugged it off knowing he'd understand and you made a mental note to get him his favorite bottle of wine to make up for it.
As you entered the back, you looked through all the dildos and vibrators lined up against the wall. Emily held up a purple dildo, reading through the description while you looked at the unimpressive dildo and vibrator wall decor, none really vibing with you.
"This one says it vibrates and is supposed to feel realistic," she mumbles, eyes narrowing as she reads through the instructions. "Six inches though, I think you can take more than that right?"
You giggled, unable to hold in a laugh. "I don't really want to think about Barney's small dick vibrating in my cunt when I want to cum, Em. Or Thanos for that matter."
She makes a face, putting the purple vibrating dildo back. "What a strange image. Thanks for ruining Barney for me."
Chuckling, you check out the lingerie a nearby mannequin is wearing. It's black and lacy, and while it holds up the titties, it's see-through and the panties are crotchless. Taking off its panties, you hold it up to your body. "Hey, this is cute isn't it?"
"Very cute, you should get it," Emily responds, looking through the hundred dildo options.
"Yes, you should."
You freeze, your ears instantly knowing who that voice belonged to. Emily looks behind you without turning her head, holding back a laugh at your clear mortification. A second passes and you turn around to see Aaron fucking Hotchner, your stoic boss and friend standing in front of you, looking at the lingerie you had pressed up against you.
You can't help but laugh awkwardly. "Hotch? What're you doing here?"
He's amused and you can tell because he's eyes are twinkling and the corner of his lips are twitching as if fighting the urge to smile. "I was picking something up for Jessica at Bath and Body Works when I saw you guys and wanted to say ... hi.”
"Wonderful." you deadpanned, placing the crotchless panties back on top of the mannequin's head.
Before either of you could say anything else, Emily joins in, a smile so smug and big it would've been hard to miss from space. "I'm going to look at that section of toys. Maybe you'll like a blue one instead so you can imagine it's Jake Sully instead."
She's too far away when you think about slapping her, already moving towards the side section of even more vibrators and dildos, a few naughty shirts display that separated you and Hotch from her. After glaring a hole into the back of her head, you turned back to Hotch, wanting nothing more than to melt on the floor and die.
"I-" you start, unable to finish; just like the night before.
He begins to look through the wall of sex toys, brows furrowing at the choices. Your cheeks redden when he picks up the infamous rose vibrator momentarily before placing it back down. It looked so tiny in his big hands and you wanted nothing more than to have his big hands in you. "What kind of toys do you like?"
It takes you a second to comprehend his question, still stuck on him seeing you shopping for things a boss should never know about his employees. "Um, whatever, really. I haven't really had one since college."
Hotch nods as if you were talking about a case and not about orgasming on a fucking sex toy. "I see."
You watch in silence as he studies the choices again, fully concentrated. He picks up a packaged dildo, regular colored, and holds it up to inspect it. You watch him eye the silicone dick before placing it back and picking up an identical one, only this one is thicker and wider.
"So ... you ever try one of these before with someone?" you asked, unable to deal with the silence but now wishing you hadn't spoken after that horrible sentence.
Thankfully, he chuckles, eyes not straying from the description on the packaging. "No, I haven't. I never really did have the time or someone who was willing to try something like this out."
"Ahh," you reply like a fucking idiot.
After another few moments of inspecting the dildo, he hands it to you with a smile. You take it instinctively, confused and gobsmacked at the gesture. His eyes are twinkling with amusement and something else you can't place. "That one should be the closest."
It’s about eight inches long, quite thick and has veins decorating the length. The head of it is big and you nearly salivate at the thought of getting off to it tonight.
"The closest to what?"
Hotch just grins in return and starts to turn away and walk out. "I'll see you tomorrow. Have fun.”
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srvbryn · 3 months
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Luke Castellan. Wounds
Luke Castellan X Apollo!Daughter!reader
Summary: In which Luke got small wounds and he's being stubborn as hell
"I don't need your healing magic power ugh" "yes yes you do <333"
A/n: "I can change him" "remember who the real enemy is!" I might join him instead and I'm trying aaaah 😭
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Luke Castellan lay in his makeshift infirmary, his usually vibrant eyes dulled by sickness.
Annabeth, had insisted on a medical check-up, much to his stubborn resistance.
The camp's medic, not daring to face Luke, had reluctantly agreed to let (Name), the daughter of Apollo, tend to him.
"(Name)," Luke rasped, his voice a mere whisper. "I don't need your healing powers. I'm perfectly fine."
She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his defiance. "Sure, Luke. That's why you're lying here looking like you went a few rounds with a cyclops."
He managed a grin. "Maybe I did. It's just a scratch."
She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "You're impossible, Luke."
As she examined him, he couldn't help but notice the warmth in her hands and the calming aura that enveloped her.
It was a stark contrast to the cold atmosphere of the infirmary.
"You're lucky Annabeth forced you into this check-up," she remarked, her fingers over his forehead. "You wouldn't last another day without proper care."
"I don't need anyone to take care of me," he mumbled, though his resistance was losing its edge.
"Oh, I can see that," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "That's why you're practically glowing with health."
He rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
There was something about her presence that eased his discomfort. Maybe it was the gentle way she treated him or the fact that she was the only one he tolerated when he was at his weakest.
"You know," he began, his voice a bit less strained, "I might consider getting sick more often if you're the one taking care of me."
She chuckled, a melodic sound that filled the infirmary. "Nice try, Luke. But I think once is more than enough for everyone involved."
Their banter continued, the atmosphere lightening with each exchanged word.
As she administered a healing concoction, their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them.
"You're not so bad when you're not plotting world domination," she teased, a soft smile gracing her features.
He grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "World domination is overrated anyway. I think I'd rather have someone take care of me like you do."
She chuckled again, the flirtatious undertone not lost on either of them. "Well, don't get too comfortable. This is a one-time offer."
"Shame," he replied with a mock pout. "I was starting to enjoy being pampered by the favorite daughter of Apollo."
As the day turned into evening, (Name) continued to stay by Luke's side. The infirmary, once a place of discomfort, became a home of shared laughter and a connection that went beyond the demigod duties.
In the quiet moments, as Luke drifted into a restful sleep, (Name) couldn't help but admire the vulnerability beneath his tough exterior.
And so, in the warm glow of the infirmary's lamps, the daughter of Apollo watched over the fallen hero, silently acknowledging that sometimes, even the strongest warriors needed a healer's touch to mend both body and soul.
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