John Constantine has done a lot in his life. Some good, some bad but most have been dangerous.
He sold his soul to as many powerful beings as he could so that they could fight each other over it and keep him in a safe-ish stalemate. It was a risk, one where he had to sweet talk, maneuver, and sometimes seduce his way through, but he's always come on top.
Waking to his wards broken as easily as someone walking through a still river meant he had finally met his match. John woke to the Time looming over him in its adult form.
Clockwork, the physical concept of Time, smashed into a body and consciousness. It's so rare to see the god outside his tower; to even be in his presence was such a high honor that families would keep proof of the encounter for generations to brag about.
"Hello, Johnny," Clockwork said in his specialized adult form. The nickname curved with fondness. This form is an even rarer sight to behold. Clockwork looked about to be in his late twenties, dressed in a Victorian-era suit with dark black hair, he would look human were it not for his pure red eyes and time staff.
He looks gorgeous.
John smiled nervously. "Clockwork. What do I owe the pleasure?"
The ghost hums. "I have come to make a deal with you."
See, that's not something John would like to hear from the second-strongest being in the multiverse. He was second to the Ghost King. Some would even argue that Clockwork was stronger were it not for his desire to remain neutral in conflicts for the sake of different timelines.
"What kind of deal?" John asks with a lustful grin, running his eyes up and down Clockworks form. It looks like he may have to seduce his way out of this again and hopefully could convince the god of Time that he was a great time in bed instead of dead once more
The Master of Time appears amused but unwilling to climb under the sheets with him. Bollocks, if he wasn't back for another month of pleasure then the deal would likely be unpleasant.
Even if Clockwork could be considered a past fling, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't ask for something harmful. John had less powerful exes who would gladly have him killed just as likely as they would key his car.
To make thinga worst, Clockwork reached into his gentleman jacket to pull out a small jar. John's heart leaped in horror at what was inside.
"I have collected every piece of your soul through challenges, purchases, or even offerings. I own you entirely, John Constantine," Clockwork said, his warm tan skin rippling into blue as the Ghost turned the jar this way and that. "I wish to return it to you, with my added protection, should the old contracts which you swindled will not seek out revenge in exchange, you must take responsibility."
John can barely breath "Responsibility of what?"
Clockwork gestures behind him, and out of the shadows step a human boy. A human boy that looks precisely like human-Clockwork as a teenager but with John's eyes and the shape of John's nose.
No.
He knows that despite how similar they look, Humans and the citizens of the Infinite Realms aren't biologically the same. He just didn't think that meant this.
That he could be so careless it resulted in this.
Clockwork waves a hand between them. "Jonny meet your son, Danny."
John choked as Danny awkwardly waved at him. He even stuffs his hands into his pockets the same way John would stuff his hands into his trench coat.
This can't be happening.
"Our son is half human, and it's unhealthy for humans to remain in the Infinite Releams for long periods. I now require you to raise him on Earth until his core is ready. The day our son is of age, you will have your soul back with my Infinite protection. Danny will take the throne of the Infinite Realms upon his marriage so do help him find a good suitor."
Clockwork considers the rapidly paling human with large amounts of glee. "I trust this would be acceptable? I must warn you, I have raised him outside of time, so he is a bit behind with modern technologies and references. He also has a ghost form he must use for his health. Oh, and, Danny has a peanut allergy, so keep that in mind for his meals. If anything were to happen to Danny while he lives with you, I would erase this entire place and not through time manipulation. I will simply kill everything. Keep you alive so I can kill every version of those you love across the multiverse in front of you. Try not to slip away from your child support to prevent that, yes?"
John faints.
Danny Fenton had to be removed from his dimension to erase Dan from existence. His future self had nearly escaped the Clock tower they couldn't risk a second time. Clockwork had told him removing him from his dimension, his timeline, would never allow Dan to exist. It broke his heart but to save the many lives that Dan took Danny had agree.
His friends and family were devastated even if Clockwork told them Danny would be allowed visits. Just nothing longer than a week and six months between visits. He had moved into Clockwork's haunt, becoming an assistant to the master of time. He helped weave timeliness, and suggested possible choices for various creatures of various situations across the multiverse.
Danny helped Clockwork control fate, if that wasn't ridiculous. He even tried his ghost powers, to the point he felt he could truelt match his mentor in a fight.
He spent two years like this- or two years in his home dimension. Time didn't move in Clockwork's tower so despite the amount of time he lived there Danny didn't look a day over fourteen still. It irked him like nothing else to see Tucker and Sam as sixteen year Olds while he still looked like he was a freshman.
(It also hurt to see them move on without him.)
However, due to his halfa status, his human side was starting to fall apart. He needed sun, food, sleep, and other humans. He would go mad otherwise, and none of this would matter if it resulted in Dan.
Clockwork couldn't put him back home. He couldn't even put Danny in an alternate timeline, for he could not be close to people he knew.
He had to go to one that had no various of anyone Danny knew. Thankfully the Infinite Releams is connected to plenty of places that fit the bill. All Clockwork had to do was twist a few small events, and boom, Danny Fenton would have a perfectly legal background with everything he need for survive.
If only his mentor wasn't such a michivious prankster.
" You want me to pretend to be your love child with some random magic guy?"
can you do aaron x wife reader who also works in the bau with him & on a case a police officer openly flirts with aaron in front of the team and reader so she stakes her claim on her husband && the team ( mostly derek & pen ) are teasing the two of them for it ??
Marked Territory
A/N: AHHHHH thinking ab claiming aaron hotchner as ur man has me giggling & kicking me feet
THANK you sooooo much for requesting angel <3 hope you like it!
‧₊˚ ✩°。⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆。°✩˚₊‧
wk: 1.2k
pairings: aaron hotchner x wife!bau!fem!reader
warnings: heavy makeout, jealously
You stood a few feet away with a watchful gaze, arms locked across your chest. The consultant was laying it on thick, her eyelashes sweeping up and down in a practiced rhythm aimed at Aaron. It made you want to throw up. You couldn't help but let out a soft, almost inaudible scoff. The consultant's laughter pierced the quiet, an exaggerated display that felt out of place. Her hand rested on Aaron's arm a moment too long. Your glare could have set the room on fire, you were sure of it, and it only seemed to intensify when Aaron offered a polite, yet distant smile in return.
"Careful there, sugar," Derek joked, sliding into place beside you as he nudged your side. "You're about two seconds from turning this into a crime scene."
You offered a half-glance towards him, "I suppose I can't fault her taste," you said with a forced lightness, even as a twinge of jealously coiled tightly within you, your attention fixed on the hand that dared to claim familiarity with Aaron. "But good taste doesn't come with good sense, apparently."
Penelope swept in with a gasp that could rival a Greek chorus, her eyes wide with a feigned shock. "Wow, I could practically taste your fury from down the hall! Mrs. Hotchner, are we in strategy mode, or should I grab some popcorn?"
You rolled your eyes with a dismissive wave. "You two are ridiculous. What do you expect me to do? Drag her by her hair? Please, I trust Aaron," you stated firmly, because, well, you did. This, however, didn't stop the tiny spark of irritation that flickered within, unbidden and unwelcome, but you squashed it with a laugh. "Besides, if I started a catfight every time someone flirted with him, I'd need my own filing cabinet for all the assault charges."
A glance was all it took for Garcia and Morgan to share their amusement. "Sure, sure," Garcia drawled, her voice dripping in sarcasm.
Morgan's eyebrow arched in silent agreement as he smiled knowingly. "Of course, you're calm. But we both know if that bubble of anger pops, it's going to be one hell of a show."
You tried to ignore it; you really did. You buried your nose in your work, determined to keep your mind off that infuriating woman. You shuffled papers, dove into your case files, and tapped away at your computer with a vigor that doesn't go unnoticed by the team. Every time you caught a glimpse of Aaron, there she was--the consultant--hovering like a shadow. It's almost comical how she mirrored his every move, but you were not laughing.
You found reasons to be anywhere but where Aaron was, taking your coffee break when he's in the break room, opting for the stairs when he took the elevator. It's a dance of avoidance that has you mentally exhausted, but you're trying to channel your inner zen, and being around that woman is doing you no favors.
The office air is thick with tension, a tangible presence that envelops your desk, your focus splintering with every laugh and hushed conversation that drifts over from Aaron's direction. You're the very image of concentration until you see it--the consultant, her proximity invasive, her hand lingering on his shoulder with a familiarity that sears through your veneer of calm. It's the tripping point, the moment your restraint fractures.
You stand, a fluid motion that betrays her anger that charged the room with an energy that has the whole team's attention snapping to you. They recognize the signs--the firm line of your jaw, the fire in your eyes--a rare display that signals an unstoppable force is about to be set in motion.
"Hotch," the name is a clear, firm declaration across the room, a tone you usually reserved for the field. "Can I speak to you for a second?"
The room falls still, a collective breath held by the team as Aaron excuses himself and follows you into his office. The door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving just the two of you. His gaze meets yours, a furrow of worry creasing his brow as he takes in the tempest swirling in your stance.
"Honey, are you alright?" he asks, the professional facade giving way to a soft undertone of worry, as he takes a deliberate step towards you, his eyes searching yours for signs of distress.
With a swift assurance of privacy, your eyes lock on the drawn blinds, and you waste no time diminishing the space between you, hands clasping up to his neck with an urgency that pulls him down to you. Your lips found his in a fervent collision, coaxing a surprised murmur from him. He softly pulled back, his chuckle deep and knowing, as his hands encircled your waist.
"Honey--I, we're in the office."
His words may have carried a hint of reprimand, but the gentle exploration of his hands across your back drawing you nearer seemed to contradict him. An innocent smile graced your lips as your fingers wove through his hair, eliciting his head tilting back in contentment. "Just missed you is all."
An eyebrow lifted in amused acknowledgement. "Mm, is that so?"
Gently tugging his head closer, your lips crashed against his with a desperate intensity, your hands gripping him as if he were a lifeline.
With deliberate strokes, you raked your fingers through his hair, creating artful disarray. Your hands glided to his tie, tugging it just enough to break the perfect line, then across his jacket, crumpling the fabric with feigned carelessness. Each touch a strategic step in enhancing his unkempt image.
A gentle exhale escaped you as he pressed you back against the desk's edge, his hands forming a cage around you, both protective and possessive. Your lips curved into a smirk, your teeth capturing his bottom lip and tugging with a teasing pressure, probably a little harder than you should have, causing him to pull back. "Christ, sweetheart."
Instinctively, your hand rose to trace his bottom lip, smoothing over the swollenness your teeth had caused. A soft smile graced your features as you took in the delightful disarray of his appearance. With a satisfied nod, you left a featherlight kiss on his cheek and glided towards the door. "I love you, Mr. Hotchner."
His eyebrows knit together in loving exasperation as he observed your retreat, his hand absentmindedly caressing his lip. God, you kept life interesting. "I love you more, Mrs. Hotchner."
Emerging from Hotch's office, your hair perfectly disordered, a small smirk etched on your lips. You watch as the consultant's eyes stretch wide, a flush of embarrassment covering her cheeks. With a sly wink tossed her way, you glide towards Penelope and Morgan.
"Well, well, well," Morgan drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face as he watched the scene unfold, arms folded confidently over his chest. "I had a feeling those claws were just waiting for the right moment to strike."
"That's our girl! Showing the world whose boss without breaking a sweat." Penelope chirped. "Well, I mean, maybe a little sweat. I'm seriously striving not to speculate about what you two were doing in there."
A playful smirk dances on your lips as you peer over your shoulder at Hotch's door. "Just wait for it," you tease, fingers poised for the dramatic reveal as you count down. "3, 2, 1.."
Right on cue, Hotch steps out, looking every bit as ruffled as you'd intended. His tie hangs crooked, his suit crumpled, and you didn't miss the dark red tint around his bottom lip. The sound of Morgan and Penelope's laughter filled the air as you offered a nonchalant shrug.
"It's all in the day's work, besties. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."
"Master Bruce, would it be alright if I had someone over?" Danny's soft voice breaks the chatter around the table. Bruce is honestly surprised to hear the boy speak up without prompting. It takes him a moment to answer how unexpecting the request is.
The boy seems to think his silence is an answer, for he ducks his head and brings up his shoulders. "Nevermind. It was stupid. I'll tell Clockwork to forget it."
"No. No. This is your house as well, Danny. You can invite any of your friends. I'm just surprised Clockwork would allow you to contact guests from your old home." Bruce assures. His eyes flicker to the rest of the table, showing how everyone is focused on their own plates, but all conversation has died.
He is sure half of his children are attempting to develop super hearing with how much they are straining to eavesdrop.
"He's not really a friend, per se." Danny pushes some of his food to one side of his plate. It's a nervous habit Bruce had realized he does when speaking of his old home. Not just food but anything he can fiddle with, as Danny seems unable to hold still when nervous. "Wes and I have....a history, you can say. Clockwork said that he was allowed to visit because he knew what was happening but wasn't too involved with the situation. Not like Sam and Tucker, my best friends, or my sister Jazz. "
A history? Oh no, was this "Wes" an ex?
Bruce looks again at his youngest and fights a wince at Damian's dark sneer as the boy stabs his broccoli. Please let Wes just be anything but an ex. He doesn't want to follow the other kid around to make sure he doesn't have to fight off his children from bringing him harm.
Dick speaks up, likely thinking along the same lines. "I'm glad you can still have someone to see you! When will he be here? Will he be alright with Gotham's....everything?"
A smile is fighting at the corner of Danny's lips, and Bruce swears he can hear his children's hearts shatter as the boy flushes slightly. "Trust me, Wes can handle a lot. Clockwork said he would let Alfred know the details if Master Bruce agreed."
The butler pulls out an old-looking pocket watch. After checking the time, Alfred snaps it close with an impassive smile. "Clockwork will have the boy here in three days. I believe Danny will have a few days off then to enjoy his company?"
It's not really a request, but Bruce still nods. "Of course."
Danny's entire face lights up. It's the most joy he's seen on the boy's face since his arrival. "Thank you, Master Bruce. Thank you, Alfred. Can you please excuse me? I want to prepare his room."
"Of course, dear boy," Alfred nods his head. Danny is gone in a flash, a secret smile pulling at his lips. He waits a few seconds, so Danny's footsteps can fade away before leveling a stern stare at everyone at the table.
Bruce straightens his back out of reflex when that all-knowing stare passes over him. He barely contains a sigh of relief when Alfred slightly lingers on him to transfer his gaze to Damian.
He feels terrible for his son but cannot step between the butler and him. Damian will have to fight this battle on his own.
"I trust everyone here will not give Danny or his guest any grief during his break." It's not a question. It's a camond. Everyone shivers slightly out of fear.
"No."
"You don't have to worry about me"
"I have some stuff to do."
"Of course not Alfred."
Alfred doesn't precisely threaten them, but he does make his eyes a little darker "Danny's guest will not find shadows following him."
A few of his kids look heartbroken, while Jason has an expression of manic glee blooming on his face.
The following night, Danny is asking for ideas on where to take Wes on his tour. Apparently, both are from a small town and are used to having fewer options for entertainment.
"Kids usually either went to the mall or the local burger place. The mall wasn't even that big too, so after a while it got boring" Danny admits.
"You have to take him to Batburger," Jason tells Danny. Bruce fights the urge to leap over the table and punch his child. Jason knows that Danny hadn't gone to the restaurant so a lot of his siblings had been dreaming of taking the boy on a date there.
He's just rubbing salt in the wounds at this point.
"I think I will. I'll take him to museums too. Wes loves history." Danny writes some ideas down in a little notebook. He's taken to carrying it around, brainstorming a perfect weekend there.
Bruce had glanced at it earlier that day, when Danny had been busy cleaning and had read, "Make out point- Dick said the stars are the clearest there."
He almost had a heart attack. For all that Danny was Alfred's boy, Bruce still felt very protective of Danny like his own. He did not want his somewhat son to be going to any place with the name make out point.
No one speaks after that- primarily due to his younger children trying to shift their sobs and the older ones trying to comfort them without letting Danny notice.
Eventually, Cullen gets up from the table, excusing himself with a half-baked excuse of needing to do homework, and Harper chases after him. The two are followed by Tim- whose eyes are glossy- Steph, who looks to be biting her lip. Duke, whose hands are curled into fists, and Damian, who stomps out like a bull about to charge.
Bruce leaps to his feet but is stopped by Dick, who pats his shoulder. "I got this."
"The plot thickens," Jason says before he, too, goes after his siblings. For all his teasing, his second oldest adores his brothers and sisters, so he'll be there in their time of need.
"Is something...wrong?" Danny asks after a moment of hesitation. "I can tell Clockwork and Wes not to do the visit."
"No. You have Wes over. We talk." Cass tells him, giving the boy a wink as she, too, steps away. "Tonight, all ice cream."
"Yes." Alfred sighs. "I do believe that would be best. A frozen treat to soothe the pain of heartbreak. I'll bring up the tubs for everyone in a moment."
Bruce fights the urge to bury his face in his hands as Danny spring to his feet offering to help with the ice cream, unaware he is the cause for the comfort food.
Despite the apparent tension in the manor, the promised weekend does arrive. Danny is beside himself with excitement. He's not wearing a suit for once- he's gotten to copying Alfred in a misguided attempt at a butler uniform- and is wearing street clothes.
Besides, when the first day, Bruce has never seen Danny in street clothes. He's surprised that Danny dresses like a punk rocker- complete with a black leather jacket, big combat boots, and various chains.
He looks like the type of person fathers warn their daughters away from. Bruce hates how that only makes more of his children bestowed.
Danny had given everyone a happy smile when Bruce handed him the keys to one of his sports cars- he saw no reason why Wes and Danny should take a bus to the airport when he had plenty of vehicles to lend him. Alfred had allowed the boy to go alone since Danny needed to go through a particular gate for Wes.
Apparently, Clockwork would be sending Wes on a private plane. It burned not to know who Clockwork was or what he did, but Bruce fought the urge to snoop to get Alfred to stop glaring at him.
"I bet you he's not even that great," Tim grumbles, stuffing a chocolate cookie into his mouth. "Bet you he's ugly."
"With buck teeth" Steph adds stealing her own cookie.
"He likely never even seen a sword," Damian spits.
"Come on guys, I know it sucks, but we can't just dis on Wes 'cause Danny likes him," Duke says though it's not very convincing, seeing as he dropped over the couch in a depressive slouch.
"Why are all the good gays taken?" Cullen sighs, ignoring the meta.
Bruce opens his mouth to offer some comfort or maybe lecture them, but the front door opens before he gets a chance. Everyone sits up only to slump down as Dick strolls in with a cheerful smile. They all glare at him, which makes Dick flauter in his steps for only a second.
"They're waiting for Danny," Bruce tells him. Dicks smile regains his cheer as the oldest throws himself on the couch.
"He's outside with his guest. Lovely guy."
"Is he ugly?" Tim asks hopefully. His dreams are dashed as Dick shakes his head.
"He could be a supermodel."
"Of course, he can."
Jason snorts from behind a book. Bruce knows he is not reading it, simply by the fact he hasn't turned a page in the last ten minutes- his son speed reads whenever he adores a book- and is likely enjoying the show.
The door opens again, this time accompanied by two sets of laughter. An unfamiliar voice wheezes "-Dash then reads out love poems he wrote about Phantom!
"No!" Danny gasps. "Not Dash Baxter. What did the other A-listers do in retaliation?"
"Nothing that's the crazy part. They had poems too!"
The two voices are carrying, so Bruce has a few seconds to prepare himself. So do his kids, who all sit up at attention, a few with not as welcoming expressions as he would like. The voices round the corner, and Bruce looks at Wes first.
Dick was right. He's a handsome young man with ginger hair and flickers of freckles. He is dressed similarly to Danny, but a little less black and slightly more burnt orange to add color to his punk look. A worn-out backpack is swung over his shoulder while the same arm is tugging along a suitcase behind him.
Wes is also holding Danny's hand with a free hand.
Damian makes a slightly wounded sound that digs a dagger into Bruce's heart. His baby's first heartbreak.
Danny looks surprised to see them all, seeing as the family usually prepares to go out as the Bats at this time- but he smiles widely after a moment. "Everyone I like you to meet Wesley Weston. Wes, this is my boss, Bruce Wayne, and his kids, Dick Grayson-wayne, Jason Todd-Wayne, Casandra Wayne, Tim Drake-Wyane, Stephine Brown, Damian Wayne, Cullen Row, and Harper Row."
Wes smiles at them, waving the hand he has interlocked with Danny. Bruce winces as most of his kids give half-hearted greetings. Thankfully Alfred is in the kitchen and misses their terrible manners.
Wes pauses and squits at the youngest of the house before he sighs. "Of course, it happens in this dimension too."
"What?" Danny asks confused
"Danny and I aren't dating," Wes tells the room, ignoring the startled boy he's launched onto. "Danny just needs to have physical contact for his mental health. So we hold hands. He also needs to have someone sleep with him. Otherwise, his core doesn't recharge correctly."
"Wes!" Danny protests. "They don't know about cores!"
"Oh," Wes shrugs, waving his hands at them, "Never mind. Processed as normal, Danny and I will cuddle in his room. Danny lead the way."
Alfred's foster son flushes a bright red but quickly tugs the guest away. Jason shakes from unrestrained laughter as Damian stabs the table on which he is sharpening his knives.
Bruce yells after the two boys.
"The door stays open, Danny!"
"Master Bruce, it's not like that!" Danny yells back, mortified, and Wes breaks into impish laughter.
"I hate him," Duke hisses, and Bruce gives in to the urge to bury his face in his hands.
gn afab reader! no y/n used, and you arent in a relationship with alastor, just besties <3 all the other boys have a crush on you.
there will be more parts, may not be period comfort tho, just more hazbin/helluva characters comforting the reader while theyre sick
cw: mentions of period sex, adam is chubby, slight ooc
mdni please<3
Alastor
The smell of blood draws alastor to your room, hes a little worried that you're hurt, but its nothing he cant fix. As he enters your room, and sees you curled up in the fetal position he goes and sits next to you
"Darling, whats the matter? It's a wonderful day and you're spending it in bed! I believe Charlie is baking cookies! You-"
"go away alastor. i'm on my period."
"Well why didnt you say so!"
Alastor disappears into his shadow, and returns a few minutes later with a hot water bottle, a bottle of cold water, some pain meds and dark chocolate. He throws the items on your bed and smiles at you expectingly. You shoot him back a smile of appreciation. Even tho alastor and you had your moments, he's still a good friend when he needs to be.
Lucifer
Lucifer has a crush on you, and its no secret either. Every day he sits next to you during breakfast, he always makes sure you eat enough. He always does Charlie's silly little trust exercises with you, just being in your vicinity makes him happy. When you dont come down for breakfast, he gets worried, he made your favourite for you- pancakes! He decides to take some to your room. When he enters, and sees you curled up on the bed, he sits the tray of pancakes on your bedside table and sits next to you
"Hey, you didnt come down for breakfast, are you okay??"
you shake your head no, and he seems really concerned. He hates seeing you in pain, its horrible. Suddenly he remembers something- lillith acted like this when she first came to hell, periods. In the garden of eden, lilliths periods didnt hurt her, but as soon as she came to hell, it felt like her uterus was stabbing her, luckily luci fixed it
"Can i help?"
You stare up at him, eyes slightly watering from the pain and nod your head, anything to get rid of this. Luci carefully peels back your blanket and rests his hands on your groin, you shiver at the feeling of his warm hands, its nice. Theres a bright glow of golden light, and suddenly, the pains gone, the period pain at least, you still have a headache, and you're still pretty exhausted. You pull luci into a hug, he hugs back, giving you a kiss on the head
"Want me to run you a bath, sweetheart?"
"Yes please"
Lucifer hops up and heads into your ensuite, he starts a bath, making sure to get some really nice smelling soap and bath salts. He puts some rose petals in the tub to make it look pretty, and a couple of rubber duckies. Lucifer cares so much, hes so sweet.
Adam
Adam doesn't really understand the whole 'periods thing'. They didn't have them in heaven, so he doesn't really know what to do when you wake up grabbing your stomach. He pulls out his phone and decides to have a look online to see if there's anything he can get that will help, theres products from the vee's, but he doesnt trust those fuckers. He scrolls across an article that says orgasms can help with period cramps. When adam first shoots the idea at you, you're hesitant, period sex isnt something you've done before, and it seems a little scary, but you let him. He puts a towel under the both of you, and he makes sure that you 100% wanna do this before he gets started. When you guys have done, your pains are pretty much gone. he pulls you on top of him and you just lay there for awhile, enjoying the warmth from adams soft belly <3
Husk
Husk isn't too educated with this stuff either, but he knows how to take care of someone when they're sick. He doesn't realise you have your period at first, he just thinks it's a stomach bug. He gets you some chicken noodle soup and a few painkillers, when you explain to him that you have no appetite because of how bad the pain is, it suddenly clicks in his brain what's happening. He gives you a small kiss on the forehead, then walks out. He goes to charlie asking for help, she gathers together a basket full of snacks, pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, period underwear, hot water bottle with a cute cat cover and some noise cancelling headphones, in case things get overwhelming. Husk brings it back to you and lets you snuggle into him, something he doesn't allow very often. You spend the next few days cuddled up in bed, playing with husks ears watching movies. He helps you when you need to shower, and also keeps your hot water bottle hot. he just really enjoys taking care of you, not that he'd admit that
HII!! I'm quite new to making requests, but I was wondering if I could ask for some headcanons: Percy Jackson x Aphrodite!Reader (with a sunshine personality, if that’s okay!). Please and thank you! 💞 I hope it's not too much to ask for. Also, remember to stay hydrated and healthy! And, Take your time!💗
(Quick side note: I made this pink because
I thought it looked cuter!<3 oh and, I’m not sure if you do this but if you’d like to pick like an emoji for me to use as a sign off. Then, that would be quite nice! Because I think I’ll be requesting from you quite often💞)
⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs
content: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite! reader hcs
warning: i don't think anything?? fluff ig watch out yall dangerous stuff might make you fall in love 😬😬
author's note: hihi ! this is my first time doing headcannons as well as writing for percy. tbh, i was a little nervous because new things scare me and i don't want to disappoint but i hope you like it!! also i shall dub you...🎀 anon, bc of all the pink 😋😋
okay, mr. loverboy and ms. lovergirl are in the house yall
i know he's head over heels for you the moment he sees you, leading around some new campers, excitedly clapping your hands as to get them excited too. It works, earning a few smiles
he was so distracted, annabeth managed to get the jump on him in the middle of their training, sending the son of poseidon sprawling on the hard dirt of the arena
"get your head in the game, jackson."
"it is!"
"no, i can literally see your eyes turning into hearts right now-"
"shut up!! she might hear you!!"
he spent days plotting, trying to figure out the best way to approach the bubbly daughter of aphrodite.
he didn't want to just come across as like all the other guys who only talked to them because of their beauty. from what percy's seen, you were one of the kindest and lovely people he's known.
one day he was laying on the dock, his foot passively swinging through the water and he muttered stupid pick-up lines or other introductions, all of them equally as terrible.
"mind if i join you?" a voice questioned before a shadow blocked his view of the sun, which he could vaguely make out to be the girl he'd just been lovesickenly talking about.
"y-yes, yeah, of course!" he sputtered out, jumping up and squeezing over, making space for her. she giggled at him, taking a seat with a sideways glance in his direction.
percy felt like he was evaporating
"i like the water, the seafoam especially. because…well, you know," the girl mused, gesturing vaguely with her hand.
"yeah, that's how your mom was born, right?" percy questioned though he knew the answer, he just didn't want her to leave quite yet as he was desperately trying to remember one of the pick-up lines he'd been thinking about. but with the girl around, the only thing running through his head was her.
"born is a loose term, but yes. it's comforting…feels like home," she replied, turning her head to percy and offering him a dazzling smile that he'd pay all the money in the world to see again.
"i know how that feels, trust me," he murmured back before tilting his head at her, a smirk slowly growing on his lips, "where would you go right now if you could go anywhere?"
"easy. there's this target near chicago that always has my favorite lip gloss," the girl replied like it was the most normal answer.
"what?!" percy questioned through his laugh which then sent the pair down a rabbit hole of questions and rebuttals, neither of them noticing how much time had passed until the sun was nearly completely hidden from view, only the last few rays shooting out from behind the mountains.
"Oh, ha, look at how the time fly," the girl muttered, laughing as her eyes got caught on the dying sun
"must've been having fun then," percy replied with a blinding smile and she laughed, shaking her head at the boy.
there was a pause, the two just staring at each other.
then soft movements from the daughter of aphrodite, who gently cupped his face with one hand before pressing a lip gloss coated kiss to his cheek.
"i was definitely having fun. you're fun, jackson, we should hang out some time," she whispered near his ear before moving to stand up, leaving the boy as still as a statue. she walked away, with a few giggly glances over her shoulder.
once he was sure she was gone, percy shot up and cheered, pumping his fists and jumping about all over the dock until he caught his foot and fell in.
and yet, he couldn't seem to loose his smile, even coated in seaweed and muck from the lake.
she always had the effect on him, his bubbly lovergirl.
author's note cont. : anyways, i present ya'll with this. i'm trying to work through all my new requests rn, which is very exciting bc i've never had those before, but do not be afraid to request away still!! anyways, hope you enjoyed, anon!!
Pairing(s): Rhysand x Reader, Cassian x Reader, Azriel x Reader
Warnings: poly relationship, smut, sharing is caring, poly mates, fff what i would give to have the bat boys as my mates, voyeurism, masturbation, bratty reader, disobeying rhys and the gang, punishment, overstimulation
Words: 1761
Summary: One major flaw of your's: You were cocky of not just your own strengths, but also the guard dogs at your beck and call. Your three mates.
You knew you were in deep shit the moment you nailed the coffin into your decision.
Rhysand forbade you from acting out on your own during this reconnaissance. Normally he wouldn't have said anything; you were good at whatever you put your mind to and you knew how to behave yourself unlike Cassian who was known to blow his cover from time to time. You and Azriel made an excellent spy pair. Both levelheaded and calculating, not to mention very deadly. Lacking the useful shadows that were unique to Azriel, that didn't stop you from being just as intimidating.
Or perhaps reckless.
That was one major flaw of your's. You were cocky of not just your strengths, but also the guard dogs at your beck and call. Your three mates. Yes, THREE.
A fae would be lucky to find their soulmate in their lifetime. Many never felt that electrifying spark of your invisible bond being snapped into place. And you'd felt it three times. A phenomenon that had never been witnessed before in all of fae history. It caused Rhysand to delve deep into the House of Wind's library to look up whatever he could about fae soulmates. He even went so far as to ask Helion, whom he had a somewhat friendly relationship with, if he could scrounge up any information on his end. The Day Court high lord upon hearing of this immediately became highly interested.
Of course you would feel indestructible. On top of the world even. In your pocket you possessed a High Lord, a general and a spymaster. You yourself were known as the Mistress of Poison.
None of that would save you from disobeying Rhysand's orders though. Sometimes you forgot that you HAD to obey him. Even if the four of you stood together as equals, there was still a power dynamic when regarding Rhysand. Azriel would not be covering for you this time.
"It was the perfect opportunity Rhys!" Trying to argue your case once more, Rhysand merely holds a hand up to quiet you. You pout, biting down on your lower lip to prevent anymore words from slipping out. Nervously you glance to either side of you where Cassian and Azriel stood.
Az's blue eyes catch you in the corner, he stiffly shakes his head. Don't argue, love.
Even Cassian's voice chimes in You've really done it this time.
He wasn't exaggerating. Rhys' pretty violet eyes were hardened. "You could have gotten hurt." More importantly, you blocked me from your thoughts. Like you think I wouldn't know. "You disobeyed me. You could have even blown Azriel's position."
Unlikely. . . Azriel half muses but returns his face to a neutral expression when he caught Rhysand's gaze sharply slice into him.
Utterly foolish, you utter "But I didn't get hurt. And I didn't blow Azriel's cover." The pressure of his power thickens the air around you. "I succeeded in killing them, didn't I? Succeeded in what we were sent out to do."
Cauldron, zip your beautiful mouth. Mentally hisses Cassian. From the corner of your eye you catch a twitch of his wings.
You were digging your own grave yet you couldn't stay silent. Rhys' doubt of your capability wounded you.
Rhys sighs deeply through his nose, the rigidness of his broad shoulders reduces when he reads your thoughts. "That's not the issue here."
"You don't think I can take care of myself? That I can't be trusted like Cassian and Azriel?"
Inhaling deeply through his nose, Rhysand's deep black hair shifts as he shakes his head. "Perhaps this is my fault. You think you don't have to listen to me because you're my mate. That you don't have to listen to any of us."
From either side, you suddenly feel hands clamp down on your wrists. Rounded eyes gawk at Cassian before swiveling to Azriel. You give your wrists an experimental tug to test your restraints. Fingers like iron manacles.
"You're spoiled."
Brat.
The click of his boots hammer into your chest each step he took.
"I can't let this insubordination continue. I know you can take care of yourself. If you had discussed this with us, we would not be in the situation we're in now."
You didn't even tell Az where you'd rushed off to. And you didn't care about what you would be putting him through with your vanishing act.
Finally Rhysand stands in front of you. His entire hand was able to grab your entire jaw. "I'm proud that you succeeded. But I'm going to have to remedy your arrogance."
You try to wrench your face out of his grasp, in response Rhysand tightens his hold. He's not looking at you, addressing the other two. "Take her to my room. I'll be there in a moment. Have her ready."
A thrilling surge shoots through your core, alongside terror that you would be at their complete mercy. Unable to touch and coax them. All of you knew you wouldn't apologize for what you did. This wasn't the first time you'd callously acted on your own. To your credit, it had been quite some time since you'd last disobeyed Rhys.
"Really should have kept your mouth shut." Cassian barks out a laugh as he and Azriel haul you off.
Azriel shakes his head but even he has a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth. "Maybe it's you who needs to shut your mouth Cass. She may be at our mercy, but I doubt that exempts you from having your dick bitten."
He rolls his eyes. "She would never! Love my cock too much, don't you?"
In reply you snap your jaws at him before turning your attention to Az. "You know I didn't mean anything bad by what I did. I know I should have taken your feelings into consideration-"
"But you didn't. Don't think you can sweeten me up with a belated apology." Hazel eyes narrow at you. He would be offering no help to you. "Be silent and accept your punishment.
The cover over your eyes disorients you even more. Still you were able to distinguish whose cock was shoved into your mouth and whose teeth were sweetly nibbling on your clit causing you to cry out and beg for mercy.
You'd already orgasmed twice and your poor clit was overstimulated to the point where pleasure bordered pain.
You try to yank your hands free from Rhys' magic that bound you. His heavy gaze weighing you down. You didn't require sight, of course Rhysand would be watching. Probably fisting his own thick cock that was beading with precum. He wouldn't waste his seed on masturbating though.
"Alright. Have her present." Rhys voice sounds lazy as he commands his general and spymaster to stop.
Suddenly your body is pulled this way and that until your face is pressed against a pillow, ass positioned high up. Rough hands spread your legs so your already messy cunt is on display for the High Lord of the Night Court.
There's a sharp smack to your ass that has you yelping.
Another.
And another.
Then obtrusive fingers slide right into your exhausted pussy. You'd already taken Cassian and Azriel. Twice.
A hand, most likely Az's, strokes your sweat soaked hair.
"We're a team, are we not?" Rhysand's harsh tone clips through your pants.
"Y-Yes." At that point you'd allow all three of them to try and shove their dicks inside of your cunt if it meant you could get water and some rest. "M'sorry. . ."
"We talk things out together." He removes his fingers and you could feel the spongy tip of his cock prod at you. "None of us make a move until all of us agree. Was that not the plan? Don't apologize just to me."
"M'sorry Cass. . . S-Sorry Az. . ." You're barely able to catch your breath when you feel Rhysand breach your folds. Your nails cling desperately to the sheets under you.
Cassian laughs. "I know you are, sweetheart. I forgive you."
Azriel's scarred digits are still weaving through your hair as he hums. "Just remember next time. Don't let it happen again."
"Though I dare say she likes being punished." Darkly laughs Cassian when Rhysand finally snaps his hips forward to sheathe himself inside of you.
He stretches your walls to their limit in a ferocious rhythm that has you unattractively squealing. Rhysand's grip on your waist is firm as he keeps you in position with the help of your other two mates. You can't help the drool that dribbles out of the corner of your mouth. Especially when his balls keep tapping against your clit.
Through his own groans of pleasure at the absolute death grip your pussy had on his shaft, Rhysand manages to pull himself together to ask "What do you guys think, should I make her cum again?"
"N... N. . . No!" You helplessly protest from under him.
They just laugh.
"Never heard you reject an orgasm before." Azriel cheekily comments.
Rhysand must have thought it a good idea since you felt another white hot jolt when the pad of his finger lands on your poor clit that throbbed with its own heartbeat. "Our High Lady can take one more."
You thought you'd ascended to another plane of existence.
Your boys spent the next two hours bathing you from the mess they'd made of your body.
With feather light touches, Azriel gently ran a soft towel over your sensitive skin.
Sitting between Rhysand's legs, your High Lord washed your hair. When he came across a knot, Rhysand coaxed it free without the harsh tugging they'd previously been doing with it. He'd asked you to recount to him how you'd killed the target. Now that the hard feelings were over, your boys wanted to hear about your success.
After bathing, Cassian presents you with a pre-warmed towel that engulfed your whole being.
Once in bed, your eyes grew warm. "I am sorry. Really. We are a team. I shouldn't have acted on my own."
Rhysand leans down to brush his lips along the bridge of your nose before kissing you. "You don't have to apologize anymore."
Cassian, being your favorite teddy bear, slithers under the sheets with you and pulls you to his expansive chest. He insisted on being first in the cuddling duties. Rhysand and Azriel unfortunately had to finish their own respective duties. But the general was all your's for the rest of the night.
He kisses the crown of your head. "Rest sweetling."
Azriel kisses your cheek before standing tall. "Have sweet dreams."
TWISTED WONDERLAND'S ROYAL BOYS WITH S/O, WHO IS THEIR SWORN PROTECTOR
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— You are something between his protector, and, basically, a... Tutor? Governess? It is hard to tell, but his mother insisted on keeping him safe and controlled;
— You tried to do that, by the way. But it killed you to see him struggling, being stripped away from a proper childhood;
— From the other side, there wasn't much you could do. If his mother noticed some strangeness, she would find him a new guard, and you wasn't sure that they will be as kind as you;
— You secretly left him some chocolate and other tokens, writing him about how proud you are. He figured out that it was you, of course, but both of you never discussed it;
— You follow him to the NRC, and that is where you could finally act freely around him. Though, you still follow a strict rules—knowing how much Riddle values them—you still try to prove him that life is much more than that.
•
”Lady Y/n, I hope you understand that I could get you fired,” Riddle says, voice coming so small that it is hardly threatening. ”You are crossing lines.”
You smile, lowering your head instinctively, as you kneel in front of him.
”Of course.”
”You are disobedient,” he continues, his bottom lip trembling. ”It is against rules, and you know that. You should be punished according to them.”
”I understand. That will be done,” your eyes are meeting his. ”But for now, my majesty... Will you blow your candles?”
Riddle stares at the little cake that you made yourself, quietly and secretively, while he studied throughout the day, and lets out a very quiet sob. His eyes are watery, when he nods.
”And, please, don't forget about your wish.”
He nods again, still not trusting his voice. When he finishes, you are clapping at him proudly, rushing to serve him a cake.
I can have everything I want, but all I would ask, it is for you to stay by my side, Lady Y/n.
He never punishes you for that, in the end.
Kalim Al-Asim. 💛
— A sworn protector? Oh, please, he thinks you are his friend from the very beginning. And your attempts to explain to him that you are here for completely another thing, fail;
— You are really fond of him, but you feel like allowing him to see you as a friend is a direct threat to his safety, and therefore, you always deny him and his attempts to become friends;
— Kalim is really reckless, and sometimes naive. It gives you a heart attack all the time, and you can't help but be clued to him, just in case if anything happens;
— Kalim doesn't really take you seriously, though? Yes, he knows you are powerful, and you can fight and kill, but, eh, what else? You are sweet, and you are his friend anyway;
— Still, it hurts him when you so actively refuse to be called as one, insisting that you are a mere guard. Not because of himself. He just thinks it is sad that you consider yourself to be just a tool under the royal family.
•
You walk soundlessly, as you move behind Kalim, keeping the distance in ten steps, following the common royal code.
Neither of you speak, and Kalim seems to be not in the spirit. Which is rare and disturbing, but you assume it is something related to Jamil.
”Am I allowed to ask a question?” You dare to murmur, voice so quiet that it is barely heard.
”...Yes, Y/n,” he answers immediately.
Sometimes, you don't speak for days, mere being his shadow, nodding and shrugging if questions asked, trusting Kalim to understand. That is why your voice is always a music to his ears, a very awaited sound.
”Had something happened between you and Jamil, my prince?”
He stops, and you stop as well. Your brows furrowing, waiting for the answer.
”Why would you care, Y/n?” He wonders suddenly. ”Jamil is clearly not a threat to my well-being. If anything, he keeps me alive simply by cooking.”
You know that as well. Yet, you can't help but worry about his state.
”Because...” Your voice trails off, as you can't say a true reason behind your question. ”No, you are right, of course.”
Kalim ignores your last sentence, before finally turning to face you. His expression is thoughtful, with a slight curiousity on the bottom of his eyes.
”Could it be... That you care about me as a friend?”
You gulp, and he notices that. But you can't deny it. Lying to him wasn't something you could do, anyway.
”...It could.”
His face brightens.
You can't take it back now.
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— His grandmother chose the fairest, the strongest fae to the role of his sworn protector, of course. She loves him, she wants to make sure he is safe, all the time;
— Malleus was a quite likeable person, and you grow fond of him in an instant, promising yourself to keep him safe all the time;
— But who would've thought that it is not murder attempts that you will ought to protect him, but evil words of his peers?;
— Watching him being lonely, mistreated and misunderstood made you sick. More than anything in the world, you want Malleus to be happy and fit in the society, but it is a hard task, even for you;
— Unlike Kalim, he doesn't call you friend, but he really wants too. He is too shy, and fears that he mistook your responsibility as a guardian as kindness.
•
”Please, be careful, my prince,” you mutter, eyes fixated on Malleus's back as he works on making gargoyle, working with a stone and carved knife. “You put too much strength, and it can hurt you.”
Malleus sighs, but slows down as you asked him to. Your shoulders relax, and contained with his pace, you return to reading a book you brought with you.
”I am fae, lady Y/n,” he says. ”Just as you, I am quite immortal and very hard to hurt. You shouldn't be worried about little scratches.”
You are aware that Malleus will not die from a single cut. Yet, you are genuinely concerned about his state in every possible way, starting with physical well-being, and finishing with mental one.
”Perhaps,” you agree reluctantly. ”But, my prince, I care about you deeply. Not just as your sworn protector, but as a... Ah, how Lilia says that? A part of the family, right. You are a part of my family, my prince. It is only natural for me to— Oh! My prince!”
You can't even finish your sentence as the stone cracks in two pieces from careless, too nervous, hit from Malleus. You run to him, so worried, instantly taking his bleeding hand in your own, that can't notice the redness of his cheeks.
”Family...” He whispers.
”I told you to be careful!” You hiss, completely forgetting about subordination. “Ugh...”
Yet, he manages to give you a little smile.
Now, he knows more.
Leona Kingscholar. 🧡
— As a second to the throne, Leona might or might not be in danger all the time, and, of course, Farena found him a sworn protector eventually. In fact, he found a kid, to grow up around Leona as his guard;
— In the childhood, he always fought between an urge to send you away and humiliate, and to talk with you about his interests, because no one cared about him;
— But the fact that it is your job to be around him, made him to stop most of the time. He couldn't consider your interest in him as a sincere one;
— It didn't get better later. Quite opposite. When both of you became a part of NRC, he dismissed you completely, telling you that from now, his only servant is Ruggie;
— You felt betrayed. Not just because you was replaced, and it was your only job, but because you genuinely cared about him all these years, despite everything.
•
”Huh?” Leona glances at a fancy box on his table. ”Ruggie, whose gift is that?”
His birthday was a mess—in a good way—and he spent a lot of time on accepting gifts from his mates and other housewardens. But just as he thought that he finished, he finds another one! Ugh. Just his luck.
”Oh... It is from Y/n.”
Leona frowns.
You hardly speak nowadays, and though he misses you—it is hard not to, when both of you were together for decades—he will never admit that aloud. You stopped trying to contact him too, after he ignored you fully a three times. Which is fair, but, maybe, if you pushed harder, he would gave up...
”Why would she gift me something?” He mutters, hands coming to unwrap it.
It takes from him some time to understand what you got on his birthday.
A self-made chess set from the wood, where every single figure means something to him. But most importantly... The King one has his face on it.
His chest tightens instantly.
He misses you. He really does.
When the postcard falls out of the box, he loses it completely.
It is an old photo of both of you, still as a kids. It has you, smiling softly as you do Leona's little braids, who is settled between your legs, looking drowsy.
It makes him smile instinctively.
«To my king, and to my prince. But most importantly, to my first friend, and to the kid, who loved taking care of his mother's garden. Happy birthday, Leona Kingscholar. May you will be always happy.»
He presses a postcard to his chest.
Your birthday is in three weeks. And Leona knows what he is going to gift you this year. He only hopes you will accept him back.
Summary - Azriel takes his son flying for the first time
Warnings - Fluff with a hint of smut
Author's Note - I am thinking of turning this into a series with Azriel, the reader, and their son! Let me know if you want to see a series for it!
“Today’s the day! Are we ready?”
“You should be asking his mother that very question.”
You grinned as you turned around to see both Feyre and Rhysand standing together, hand in hand as they were watching for your reaction. But their eyes were down to your hands that were clenched tight together, almost in a death grip. It rang bells in Feyre’s head, she immediately walked over and took your hands together in her own to make you unclasp your fingers.
“You alright?” She asked, you nodding and taking in a long breath as she spoke once more, “It’s going to be fine, okay?”
“Nothing will happen, you have my word,” Rhysand vowed to you as he too walked over to place a reassuring hand on your arm to give you some sense of comfort, “I’ll be there for every moment of it, I promise. And you know your husband wouldn’t let anything happen, not on his watch.”
“I know,” You said to him, reaching over to squeeze his hand, “I know it’s going to be fine and you both will be there. It’s just….this is a lot.”
“It is,” Feyre hummed in agreement, her warm smile giving you a sense of comfort as she leaned against her mate and husband, “’ I was feeling the same thing you’re feeling with Nyx. But I knew deep down he was easy, and so is your son,”
You were both excited and dreading this day for some time, excited since you knew it would be a life-changing day for not just your child but for your family, and dreading since it was a sure sign that he was growing up on you. He was only 4 years old, yet you could remember the day he was born and how he came wailing into the world with a pair of lungs and a thirst to live. Your pregnancy was not ideal, nor was it something you would ever regret. Nor did his father, who was beyond excited to have his own little family to love on and to nurture.
His father and your mate, Azriel.
You two grew up together as Illryians, you were one of the very few female Illryians that was born into the Illyrian training camp. Although your mother died in childbirth with you and your father abandoned you because of the loss of his mate, your cousin was Rhysand and his own mother took in. She was the mother you needed, both nurturing and stern with you when you needed it, but she also taught you all you needed to know in order to survive the Illyrian life. As a seamstress, she also taught you the trade and you were making dresses alongside her as you got older.
She sheltered you and protected you, made you feel a motherly love in a cruel world. It was then you met Cassian and Azriel, two Illyrian boys who became close to you and your cousin Rhysand. They both were wild, filled with that boyish charm and thrill, and you grew to love them instantly. Especially Azriel, who caught your heart from the moment you saw his hazel eyes that were etched in pain and torment from all he went through with his own childhood. Yet he was kind, sheltered with his own feelings, and willing to bond with Cassian and Rhysand as If they were his own blood related brothers.
You both fell in love with each other over time, there was no way of stopping the sensation of being in love with him as you two grew up side by side. He loved you with all of him, showing you the sides of him that would hide in the dark and would never be seen by others. Although Azriel thought of you as the rays of the sun along his shadows and a lighthouse in the chaos of a storm, he was afraid that you would run from him and think of him as a monster.
He was far from wrong as you kissed him under the stars when you two were teenagers. He knew then that his heart belonged to you and you alone.
Years came and went, tears and torment threatened to take the two of you apart, but you two stayed together and never lost one another along the way. When Rhysand was taken Under the Mountain, you were left in charge of Night Court because you were blood-related. It was a heavy burden to carry on, but you weren’t alone. You had Cassian, your other cousin from the Court of Nightmares named Mor, a wise yet intimidating being named Armen, and of course Azriel. They all were behind you running Night Court and keeping it safe from the enemy’s hand. Especially Azriel, who was your backbone and your words of wisdom when things were rough. Most of all, he poured out his love for you when he knew you needed it, when you missed your cousin, when you felt unworthy yourself. You did the same to him, constantly loving him and making him feel so important and adored as you knew he was.
Your mating bond came easily one night when you two were deep in your lovemaking. His hands along your body, his hips rolling deeply against yours to bring you that pleasure you have been craving and needed from no one but him, you both felt that snap when you were about to orgasm. It was as if The Cauldron itself snapped inside of you and that bond was seeping along your veins. Azriel felt it too, gasping for air as you both orgasmed at the same time and your bond was singing in happiness and joy. As you two clung onto each other in happiness and in euphoria, you knew your life was forever changed because of him and no force would take the two of you away from each other.
So many years came and went: Rhsyand coming back as the High Lord of Night Court and finding his mate in Feyre, fighting against the human king Hybern to keep your Court and the citizens safe, there was finally a moment of peace for you and Azriel. You both were settling down in a small little house outside of the city. Azriel wanted a peaceful life with you, he knew you both needed it after going through stress and agitation. It was always the two of you for so long, which was what you both craved as the topic of growing your family came about.
Azriel knew you were hesitant since birthing Illyrian children was no easy task, let alone being pregnant with a Illyrian child. It was brutal, over half of mothers never survive in childbirth. Your mother was part of that statistic, and Azriel would never dare to loose you in such a way. You were mostly afraid of what could happen to you and the baby, talking to Azriel about it in hopes of wondering how he felt about bringing a child into the world. All you two knew was the way of children in the Illyrian world, a world that was cold and filled with avoidance and distance.
“If we are meant to be parents, then we’ll make it a happy home,” He reassured you as you both were sitting side by side on the front porch of your home, holding you in your arms as you were looking at your matching wedding rings, “Our home will be loving, something we both need from all we went through. But let’s not dwell on children now, I wanna simply be here with you, okay?”
“Okay.” You replied, feeling him kiss you on the cheek as you both watched the moon hanging high above. It always was on the back of your mind, but Azriel was right. You two needed some year alone together to simply build back up what was almost lost thanks to the Battle and the harshness of your childhood.
But come to find out, a few months later, you were with child. And your son, Alec Rhysand, was born.
As if on cue, you heard a cluster of feet coming from the hallway of the House of Wind, the three of you looking to see the cluster of beings coming down the hall. You beamed from seeing them, massive smiles on their faces and excitement in their laughter and giggles. Nyx was leading the group, dressed in his small leathers that were a gift to him on his birthday by his father a year ago with his raven hair swept over his bright eyes. After him was Cassian in his leathers and his mate Nesta, their toddler daughter named Rose on Nesta’s hip who was babbling away with her bright wavy hair. She was an exact carbon copy of her mother, down to the nose and the grin that seemed both infectious and genuine.
“Big day today!” Cassian said with a pep in his step as Rose saw you, screeching for you as she grabbed at you with her little fingers. You giggled, taking the little one in your arms and snuggling her as Cassian gave him a big hug, “It’s a great day to learn how to fly!”
“Perfect weather conditions,” Rhsyand hummed in agreement, “And I think the balcony is the best place for Alec to start,”
“Can’t I fly with him, Dad? Please?” Nyx asked in earnest as he ran over to Rhsyand, hugging his father around the legs with his violet eyes pleading with him.
“Remember our deal? Let him fly with his dad first and then we can join them, okay?” Rhysand reminded his song, who grumbled and nodded his head. Rhysand chuckled and ruffled his hair with his fingers, “You watch, before you know it he’ll join us for our nightly flights,”
“Hey!” You said to him as Feyre slapped his shoulder.
“When he’s bigger! That’s what I meant!” Rhysand said in defense.
“I’m surprised Azriel is letting him fly,” Nesta commented to you as she took her daughter back in her arms, “But, I think it’s great. I bet he’s been looking forward to taking Alec flying hasn’t he?”
“He has,” You said lightly, “He hasn’t stopped talking about it for weeks.”
If you were hesitant about letting your son fly, Azriel was the opposite. In fact, he was looking forward to having his son in with the sky, sole because he knew nothing would happen to his child when he was there with them. Azriel was an amazing father to Alec, loving him from the moment Madja helped bring him into the world and placed him in Azriel’s arms. You saw the shift in your husband's eyes as your baby was whining and wiggling in his hold, his tiny wings and dark hair made him look just like his father and it made you cry in happiness.
He made every milestone with Alec memorable, from his first steps to his first words. Azriel never wanted to miss a moment, wanting to give his son the childhood he wish he had himself. It was making up for the lost memories he never had, the lost moments he wanted with his own mother but was taken abruptly to be replaced with pain and torment. Not with Alec, he would make it filled with love and kindness along with joy and warmth. All you could do was simply stand back and see Azriel's love on his son, holding him close if he would cry, tucking him into bed with a kiss on the head, even laughing together after wrestling in the grass.
It was the childhood Azriel wanted for himself, but now he was giving it to his own boy.
“There he is, the boy of the hour!”
You all turned to see Azriel walking down the hall in his Spymaster leathers and a big grin on his face. But by his side, holding his fingers in his hand, was your four-year-old Alec.
Alec had his father’s dark locks and tan skin, but your bright blue eyes that Azriel knew were pure gifts from The Cauldron. He was simply perfect and had a nervous smile on his face as he saw you. His face brightened as he waved at you shyly.
As Azriel and Alec made it to you, you knelt down to open your arms to your son as he huddled in close to your embrace. His wings, which have grown in the past year and have been deemed strong enough for flight, were tucked tight against his backside as you kissed your son on the head and felt him giggle.
“How are we feeling about flying today?” You asked him as you pulled away and looked at his eyes. He bit his lower lip, looking down at his feet for a brief moment before he showed you his bright blue eyes that were mirroring some hesitance and worry.
“I’m nervous, momma,” He said to you, to which you hummed and framed his face gently with your fingers.
“And remember that it’s okay to be nervous?” You reminded him, seeing him nod his head. You kissed the tip of his nose, “You are ready, Alec. And I know you are going to be amazing at flying, you need to trust your wings. They will not steer you wrong, okay?”
Azriel knelt down next to you, peering at his son with his soft smile that he would always use on his son. Alec would hang on his father’s every word if he could, thinking of Azriel as the center of his world and beyond. There was no doubt they both had a bond together since Alec was a baby, Alec fixing comfort with his father most of the time and Azriel never hesitating in helping his son through anything.
“You are strong, Alec. I’m going to be up there with you and not leave your side, just like we practiced at home.” He said to Alec, who nodded his head. You knew they were practicing constantly at your little home, Azriel showing Alec how to stretch and strengthen his wings to get him ready to hove off the ground. You showed your son with your own wings, Alec watching in amazement as his mother hovered off the ground and landed gracefully on the grass with ease. Even before that, when he was still a toddler, you would take Alec in your arms and fly around your home to both show him how flying felt and to bring in ease.
It was a core memory, Alec as a small toddler snuggled against you as you would soar in the sky and see him watch with his big blue eyes. Azriel would fly next to you, being ever protective of his wife and son as you hear Alec giggle in excitement and coo in joy. To watch his son bathed in the night sky and amongst the stars, held by his beloved wife and mate of centuries, it brought more love to Azriel than he ever felt before.
After Madja checked his wings and gave you both the green light to let him fly, Rhysand wanted it to be a monumental day since it involved his nephew. He wanted it to be on a warm Spring day, making sure the weather would be perfect. You and Azriel were grateful for him, and you most of all since he was your Cousin and yet considered you a sister of his since you were children yourselves. He protected you throughout your teenage years, praised you for keeping Night Court safe in his absence, and adored you when you and Azriel became mates and were married.
Rhsyand walked over to open the balcony door, the warm spring air coming into the room as you were all filtering out onto the grassy terrace. The massive view of Velaris below you was enchanting in the bright sunlight, with the glistening ocean not too far away bringing in the sea air with ease while Azriel walked with Alec in his hand to the middle of the grass. You stood at the side, biting your lower lip as Rhysand squeezed your shoulder with ease. As much as you wanted to be there to help him fly as well, you knew this was a moment with only Alec and his father. You never minded it, knowing your mate would do this perfectly with your son.
Azriel knelt in front of Alec, his shadow licking around his arms and wings to be ready for protection as his massive wings were sprawled out and ready. Alec watched, his father’s wings were bringing a shadow in front of his tiny face as Azriel nodded at his son.
“Get your wings ready,” Azriel instructed him, Alec nodding and rolling his shoulders. His own wings with some muscles seen started to stretch out, mirroring his father’s wings and he kept holding his father’s hands tightly in his own as Azriel grinned.
“Good, you’re doing good,” Azriel said to him in a soothing tone, “Now, concentrate on your wings and let them move. You can do it, buddy. Just take in a deep breath and take your time,”
Your heart warmed instantly from hearing how Azriel was talking to him, seeing his hazel eyes look at his son with love and patience as Alec slammed his eyes shut and tried his best to make his wings work. Everyone else was waiting on bated breath, not wishing to move and break the moment that was in the air. This was a sacred moment, a right of passage that was going to be remembered for the rest of one’s life. You and Azriel talked about it over and over, wanting it to both be perfect and filled with positivity for your son.
A redo to what you both endured as children.
Cassian was the first one to react, then his mate, and after Feyre and Rhysand. Gasps were heard, along with sharp intakes of breaths and murmurs. You were the last, fat tears were streaming down your face at the sight of your son how hovering over the grass with his toes barely touching the ground. His wings moved easily, naturally even, while his father was watching with the biggest smile on his face.
“Alec, open your eyes, baby. Look,” Azriel said to him as he held his son’s hands. Alec, with some reluctance, opened his blue eyes. His eyes went huge, looking down to see himself hovering and he giggled.
“I did it! I did it, Daddy!” He said in glee as he looked at Azriel. Azriel smiled widely, pride was all over his face as Alec looked over at you still he was still hovering off the ground with his feet kicking in giddiness, “Look, momma! I’m doing it!”
You were freely crying at this point, covering your mouth with your hands and smiling in pure ecstasy. It made your heart swell to see such a moment with not just your immediately family, but your Found family too. It was healing all the pain you had in your heart and in your past that seemed to go away, that healing was coming in small waves and not slowing down. Rhysand helped you heal, and Azriel helped you heal.
And now, your son was helping you heal.
“You ready?” Azriel asked Alec, getting his attention again as Alec nodded in excitement. Azriel’s wings were now active, making Azriel hover up a bit and bring Alec along with him with his little wings trying to keep up. They were now a few feet up from the ground, still holding each other’s hands as Azriel guided Alec to be nose-to-nose with him. You were more in love with him all the more, watching him guide your own in the best way he could.
Azriel’s shadows were now hovering around the pair of them in a protective bubble, they were still visible amongst the shadows with ease as your husband and son were still watching each other. You felt through your mating bond that Azriel was proud of his son, how happy he was to see his child go through a great milestone, and how much love he had in his moment. You were mirroring it yourself, knowing Azriel would feel it through the bond himself.
“You are strong, Alec Rhysand. Let your wings show you how strong you are,” he reminded him calmly. Within a few moments, Azriel was releasing his hold on Alec’s hands, letting Alec fly with no help and nothing else aiding him. Azriel was hovering right in front of him, his own hands were shaking from the sight but he was nonetheless grinning from ear to ear with pride etched all over his face.
“Atta boy, Alec!” Cassian cheered as the others were grinning and clapping, “You’re doing great, kid!”
“Well done!” Feyre said in a clasp of her hands as Nyx was bouncing on his feet in excitement.
“You did it, Alec! You’re flying!” Nyx shouted with a cup of his hands around his mouth. Alec was giggling in pure joy, no longer shy or afraid as he was looking around at himself and noticing his wings were already flapping in ease. But of course, his eyes were looking over to you as he gestured wildly to you.
“I’m doing it momma! Look, I’m flying, momma!” He said with a massive smile. Rhysand kissed the side of your head as Azriel look at you two. You both were sharing a mutual feeling of pride and love for your son as the others were cheering him on and encouraging him to keep going. You were dreaming of this day for years, dreaming of your future child being free in their own wings and loving the thrill of flying. Not the fear of it, not the fear needing to be sheltered away from whom they were. It was a new time for you all, and this was a sure sign of a bright future.
Come on, babe. Come fly with us. You heard Azriel say in the bond as Alec was now reaching out to you with his fingers, still hovering in front of his father but his eyes were pinned on you.
“Come on, momma! Fly with me!” He pleaded. It was like a siren call that you could never stray from, that you could never ever turn your back on no matter how hard you tried. Seeing the two loves of your life wishing for you to join them was all you could ever need in this life that was now filled with brightness. You moved away from your family, stretching your wings as you took flight with ease. Your wings were sighing relief in being in the air, you grinning as you met your son and husband in the air. Instantly, Azriel’s shadows stretched to be around you now as the three of you were in your own world together.
“You’re doing so well, my darling boy,” You cooed as Alec, whose wings were flapping faster now, “I’m so proud of you!”
“Me too, Alec,” Azriel added as Alec was watching him, “Now, follow me. Nice and easy now, okay?”
You were behind Alec as he was following his father at a snail’s pace, but was not showing any signs of slowing down or getting tired. Neither of you noticed Rhsyand, Nyx, and Cassian taking to the sky as well and making high circles above the three of you. But you were simply focusing on your son, who was having the time of his life in this milestone. Every struggle that you had, every nightmare you experienced thinking that you would never see the light at the end of the tunnel, none of that was there anymore.
You saw positivity, positivity and hope.
“He’s fast asleep, the poor thing is tuckered out,” You heard Azriel inform you as you were perched on the terrace of the House of Wind, grinning from ear to ear as the warm spring night was all around you in Velaris. The glittering city below you was still alive and filled with energy as your husband joined you. The rest of the home was quiet, Rhysand and Feyre winnowed back to the River House leaving Nyx to sleep with Alec in one of the guest rooms. Cassian and Nesta were in their own room for the night with Rose, leaving you and Azriel alone together and enjoying the view in peace.
You were standing against the railing, wrapped in a night robe as you felt his shadows lick against your neck and arms as a way to show his presence.
“He had a big day today, along with you,” you said as Azriel pulled you in his arms and pressed his head into yours lovingly. Breathing him in always brought you back to your center, feeling his toned muscles along your fingers made you feel safe and secure once again. Even after all of these years of being married and mates, he always knew the best way to hug you to make you feel loved.
“We both did,” He reminded you gently, you grinning as he searched your eyes, “And I know how far we both have come to be here, so I wanted to tell you how proud of you I am,”
“Az,” You said his name in a weka tone, though he hummed and shook his head.
“You have been so strong for so many years, saving this Court from downfall, saving me from being lost. I know I’m not the same person I was when I was young when we met, and I owe my life to you,” He proclaimed, you feeling fresh tears in your eyes while he wiped your tears gently with his soothing fingers “Our son is a reflection of you, my love. And I know I’m not one for saying how much I love you—“
“Hush,” You soothed him, hearing go silent instantly as you pressed a soothing kiss to his lips. He leaned into you, kissing you back just as gently as you two were drinking in the quiet moment together.
Once you pulled away from his lips, you nuzzled his nose against yours as you spoke once more, “You have loved me with no restraint and nothing holding you back. I don’t ever wish to have anything else replace your love for me, Az. Not in this life or the next, you have been and will always be everything to me and our son. I’m so proud of you too,”
Azriel smiled, the moon reflecting off his beautiful eyes as you two were still wrapped in each other’s arms from simple yet powerful words of affirmation. It was always like this with the pair of you, building each other up from the depths of pain and lack of self-worth. You saw the light in each other, the hope that was nestled deep inside and neither of you gave up on the other. It took a hard road, and plenty of arguments and fights, just to stay strong for one another.
Because of that, you have this new life, a beautiful and perfect son, and it felt as if nothing else could damage that.
You reached down to lace your fingers one another, clutching his palm to yours tightly as you grinned widely at him. Leaning in to barely touch your lips to his, you whispered, “Come fly with me,”
And he did, the pair of you taking to the sky and soaring amongst the stars with the city below, your love showing no abandon or no diminish.
Wanted to do Halsin as a young cub coming into his Druidry, with a familiar friend to wish him well. (not to worry, the face tat is just paint here)
also wrote a little blurb (791 words) to accompany it under the cut!
“Alright. You can do this – relentless studies do not fail me now.” A young Halsin told himself, alone within a small grotto. It was time for him to prove his knowledge to his elder peers. He had been preparing for months, nights after long nights of arduous studying of old tomes and hours long meditations. His hands buzzed with a cocktail of anxiety and excitement as he quietly rehearsed his teachings.
He pressed a loosely closed fist to his chest and bowed his head, “Oak Father, grant me courage to excel through the trials this Circle has bestowed upon me. I trust no other counsel but yours.”
A moment passed as he reflected on his prayer, but was soon interrupted by a magical disturbance in the air. A faint golden light flashed behind Halsin that grabbed his attention. Suddenly, an apparition of a young boy with a familiar pair of horns materialized before him.
“No other’s, hm?” It said, hands on its hips.
Halsin’s eyes widened at the sight, “...Thaniel?!” He shouted in shock.
His best and only friend to ever grace his company stood there in front of his very eyes. When was the last time he had been so lucky? The teachings and training of the Circle had regrettably pulled Halsin away from seeking out Thaniel’s connection for some time. Immediately, Halsin set his hands upon the boy’s shoulders, lightly gripping them.
“It’s really you! Why are you...” he shook his head, “I’m so sorry, I have neglected you for too long. I hope you can forgive me.” He pleaded.
“But, why?” Thaniel replied, perplexed. “Don’t apologize for following the path that nature has set before you.” An assuring smile stretched his cheeks.
Halsin bit his lower lip to quell his heart from welling up over the sudden mixture of emotions. He then nodded and retrieved his hands. “Yes, you’re right.” He sighed, “I only wish I could have you at my side, always. It has become rather lonely on walks without your little shadow trailing behind me.”
Thaniel skipped over to a moss covered slab and sat upon it, crossing his legs and holding onto his ankles. He swayed back and forth, unable to keep still. “As do I, but we all must fall into the whirlwind of change at some point in our lives, and like the branch of a tree, there will be many more paths that you will have to decide to take for yourself. Nature is not-”
“Stationary.” Finished Halsin.
The two smiled at each other before sharing a giggle, still able to finish each other’s sentences. The young Druid then joined Thaniel for a seat, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. Thaniel then set his head against Halsin’s shoulder, which had certainly grew in size the last he had seen him.
“Don’t fret, Hal, I have been trailing behind – I always will be. Wherever there is a breeze in the air, you will be content to know that it’s me checking in on you.” The boy said. “I know you will become a great Druid – I could see no other better to protect nature. You got this.”
Halsin’s lip quivered, breaking loose to the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He sniffled and wiped his eyes as he let the wave pass through, “Heh. Oh, how I have missed your kind words, thank you, truly. I will take that to heart as long as I live.”
He wrapped his arm around the boy, pulling him into a tighter hug before releasing him. “...Will you sit with me for a moment longer before I have to go? I think there is still time.” He asked.
With a sudden puff of glittery mist that startled Halsin, Thaniel teleported to the other side of the grotto that lead outside and stood there with his arms crossed, “I have a better idea…” a smirk crossed his lips.
Halsin knew of what he spoke of; a game of chase they had always enjoyed. “Are you sure?” He daringly asked. “I’ve become quite fast these days!” He continued, accepting the challenge.
He then got up into a half crouched stance, holding his hands out beside him to pull nature's blessing from the soil below to conjure himself into the wildshape of a wolf. Once on all fours, he vigorously shook as if he were wet in order to acclimate himself to the form. Thaniel stood ready to run, awaiting Halsin to come after him.
“Let me be the judge of that!” The boy shouted, tauntingly.
With an elated howl, Halsin charged towards Thaniel, who swiftly darted away as the unmistakable shrill of a child’s laughter and the clacking of claws on stone faded into the distance.
Random NSFW Headcanons That Aren't Always Canon || Naruto characters x reader 1
A/n : So 2 nights ago I dreamed about being fucked by Yamato in a swimming pool and it gave me this idea 😂
Naruto Headcanons series : 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6
Warnings : NSFW, penetrative sex, riding, fingering, edging, overstimulation, use of Genjutsu and jutsus, cunnilingus, voyeurism, treesome or more, 18+ READERS ONLY and wrap it before you tap it
Masterlist ⚜
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Words count : 1257
Yamato : One day while you were going hard at it, his hips harshly trusting into yours, his forehead on yours. Your heard him whisper a quiet and breathless "Mokuton" and in an instant you felt him literally grow inside of you. It was a funny experience, to do again :') ( seriously I think there is a 27 % chance for that to happen lmao but he is too shy )
Kakashi Hatake : Thanks to his intensive reading of Icha Icha he knows that the clitoris is the most erogenous part of the female body. With your many sexy times he realized the truth of the words of the Toad Sage. An idea passed through his mind and he activated Chidori on his finger in a very diminished way and put it where you needed it the most. That time you squirted, you were lucky because he was thirsty ( too much ptsd, 0 % chance or even - 20³ % of it happening )
Iruka Umino : Bro is going to ask you some simple questions concerning the techniques or the ninja knowledges of very basic level and if you don't answer he won't let you come, knowledges or edging which one will you choose ? I hope you learned your lessons ( mmh I think he is a too nice boy but who knows ? 48 % chance )
Naruto Uzumaki : Multi Shadow Clone Jutsu. Yes it's only 4 words and I'll leave you with that or should I say with them 👀 ( hyperactive boy with crazy ideas, 65 % chance )
Sasuke Uchiha : If he feels that the world around him is not going the way he decides it should, it's very possible that when he goes back to your house, and then into you. He uses Genjutsu to make sure that everything goes the way he wants ( a great need to feel in control but will never go against your will, 30 % chance )
Itachi Uchiha : He is very good at throwing kunai, thanks to his precision but also to his strenght. And he trains his fingers in a very simple way, spread your legs and you will know. He always has his fingers in your pussy, wiggling them against that spongy part that makes you squirm in his arms. You laugh and tell him that he will end up with pruned fingers, and most of the time that's what happens. You end up being very sensitive but also you will feel like something is missing if he doesn't have his fingers in you ( he loves you and will do anything for you even the things he finds embarrassing, 70 % chance if you can get him to loosen up )
Minato Namikaze : He is called the Yellow Lightning of Konoha for a reason. Even if teleportation plays a big part in it, he is still a very fast boy. And your pussy knows this more than any enemy he has faced. Once you told him to go faster and it triggered something in him, you don't know if it's good or bad for your walking ability ( he is a horny-kage, 90 % chance )
Neji Hyuga : He is not a pervert but with you it's different. He uses his Byakugan to see what underwear you are wearing no matter where you are as long as you are within his eye range. But he also uses his eyes to see your orgasm building inside of you and to test your stamina before cumming ( the second one is more probable than the first one but who knows he might be curious shrugs, 68% chance )
Shikamaru Nara : One time he fucks you and the next time you see him backing up and making his signs announcing the mood he's in today, before feeling a hold on your wrists or legs "Shadow Possession Jutsu now complete" ( if there was a canon hentai version of Naruto this will surely be in, 95 % chance )
Inoichi Yamanaka : He uses his psychic abilities to communicate to you his indiscrete thoughts during the day or at night when he just came back from work "Hey Y/n I just got back would you help me if I were to tell you I was hard" or "I'll be waiting for you in the bathtub" ( only if he's sure that no one else can hear him, 55 % chance )
Orochimaru : This is something that can really happen. He had a lot of sex with you and he noticed that you tend to prefer big dicks. So before changing bodies he makes sure that the man has a dick that you might like, wide enough and a bit curved upwards before reincarnating into him so that the next time he can fuck you properly. You deserve the best you're his Queen after all ( 90% chance if he is in love with you )
Hidan : Period you said ? ( sorry that may be gross for some people but for him it's a 100% chance 😭 )
Sasori : He will let you ride him but only on the condition that he uses his Puppet Technique and attach his chakra strings to you and make you move on his dick as he pleases ( you are the "poppet" he cherishes the most, 100% chance too ! )
Deidara : It's not a surprise for anyone, but if his mouth can taste you why not his hands ? Just imagine 3 tongues for a pussy you ?!? - he also has a mouth on his chest but let's not talk about it ( an orgasm is an explosion right ? so he's in to make it happen as much as possible, 100 % chance too I'm on a row )
Genma : This boy with his fucking shit eating grin and his fucking senbon that he has fun to pass on your body leaving shivers in his trail. He even passes it on your most sensitive points of your body like the sweal of your breasts or your clit ( do you know someone hornier than him ?!?, 99 % if not 100 % chance )
Utakata : One day he caught you touching yourself and he probably didn't take it well because he locked your hands in your bubbles for 2 weeks and refused to touch you. He let you go out to work with it ( ughh he really can be a pain in the ass but would he do it ?, 12 % chance )
Gaara : He has a very strong tendency to put your pleasure and well-being before his own. In itself it could be good but he treats you like porcelain and it impacts a lot in his own well being, because he simply doesn't care about it ( is there anything more canon than that ?, 100 % chance)
Rock Lee : He likes to train, he likes you and he likes to make you feel good. Anyway one day he decided to do the headstand above you and he did reverse pushups, his mouth arrived at the level of your clit and he flicked it with his tongue until you came and he started doing reverse pushups again until you caught your breath again and he did it again... for 4h30 ( he is always in the excess and the extravagance, 37 % chance )
~
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A/n : I hope you guys liked it ! 🍋🍽 Again my requests are open 🔥💚
Bruce sighed. He was in over his head. Wayyyy over his head. Honestly he only had himself to blame. Really what was he thinking? He'd taken in one child and suddenly thought he was an expert in traumatized youths? He'd been overconfident and rash and now Danny was suffering for it and would probably hate him forever now and-
"I can hear you fidgeting through the door!" Came a voice that broke Bruce out of his spiral. There was a shuffle before the heavy wooden door swung open. A boy with floppy black hair and ice blue eyes stared up at him.
"You could've just knocked ya know?" Danny said.
Bruce fidgeted a little more, embarrassed that he'd been caught. "Bu- I thought you were-"
"Still mad at you?" Danny interrupted. "Yeah, I can tell by your face. You didn't even bother to wipe off your eyeshadow."
It was true. Bruce had rushed through patrol and gotten back home as quickly as possible. He'd barely shed his armor as he practically tripped over himself trying to get up to Danny's room. He had come up with and memorized the perfect apology to smooth things over between the two of them and had been dying to get it out before he messed anything else up. But now all the words he'd rehearsed left him.
"Wait. You're not angry?"
Danny leveled him with a blank stare as he leaned on the door frame. "Oh I'm always angry. Just not at you. At least not right now."
Upon seeing Bruce struggle to form words, Danny continued. "You were right," he said. "I shouldn't have beat up Dylan and his little minions. I knew they were intentionally trying to goad me into hitting them and I did it anyway. I-I'm sorry."
For the first time since their conversation began, Danny looked away. His look of mild annoyance was now replaced with one of shame.
"I just- they were making fun of my family. Saying stuff like 'they were small town trash and no one would miss them'. And that comment just set me off." Tears were now springing to Danny's eyes as anger took over his features.
Danny's hands balled into fists as he continued. "I couldn't just let that go. Especially not when they're the ones that are trash. They're so bothered by a 'commoner' wearing the same uniform as them that they feel the need to persistently bully me even when I have nothing to do with them. We don't share any classes, I eat lunch alone, I'm not in any clubs or extracurriculars and if I had a choice I wouldn't even be going to that damn school to begin with!"
Tears were freely streaming down Danny's cheeks as he stopped to catch his breath. His whole body was shuddering with fury. Bruce carefully put a hand on the boy's shoulder, ready to back off if Danny pulled away but he leaned in instead. Given the go ahead, Bruce carefully pulled Danny into a hug, slowly patting his back.
It took a while before either of them spoke. "I know what they said was out of line," Bruce started. "And trust me, they'll definitely receive punishment. But-"
"I know, I know," Danny murmured, turning his face to the side while still clutching onto Bruce's shirt. "Sending 5 boys to the hospital with my training is still bad."
After staying like that for a while, Danny finally looked up at Bruce. "Am I gonna be expelled?" he asked.
Bruce gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise."
Danny finally pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeve and returned Bruce's smile with a toothy one of his own. "You're gonna bribe them or something aren't you? There's gonna be a conveniently placed donation or something. You're just like those rich pricks," he teased.
"Heyyyy! How come Danny gets to cuss?" came a small voice from beyond the shadows of Danny's room. Soon enough, Dick made himself seen, Zitka cradled in his arms as he sleepily stolled forth.
"He's not," Bruce answered quickly. They had just convinced Dick to use more "colorful" insults as opposed to outright cursing and Bruce for one was not willing to face Alfred's wrath if he reverted back. A side glance at Danny told him the exact same thought was running through the boy's mind too. Leave it to Alfred to put the fear of God into two vigilantes who beat up criminals every night.
Dick yawned as he reached out for Bruce. "Then why'd he just say-"
"Don't tell Alfred and you'll have my dessert for a week," Danny interrupted in a panic.
Dick grinned. "Deal," he said as Bruce picked him up. The little boy blinked his eyes a few times before falling back asleep in Bruce's embrace.
Danny halfheartedly glared at the sleeping child. "I swear that kid is gonna grow up to be a politician the way he manipulates like that."
All Bruce could do was sigh. After all Danny was probably onto something. Dick knew very well the influence he had on others and never shied away from using it. It was very likely that he would be holding this particular little incident over their heads for at least the next two weeks.
Bruce looked at Danny, a thought suddenly dawning on him. "Why was Dick sleeping in your room? Did he have a nightmare again?" he asked, shifting the conversation.
Danny shook his head. "Nah. He just insisted that we both make up. He wouldn't leave until I agreed. That kid really doesn't know the meaning of 'no'."
Bruce felt his heart melt as he looked down at the boy in his arms. Why was Dick such a sweet child?
Danny grinned as he started heading downstairs. "Don't get all sappy yet. He was also walking me through his plan of how he got back at Dylan and his gang for my suspension."
The smile dropped from Bruce's face. "Wh... what do you mean revenge? Danny? Danny!?"
DP x DC prompt. ~“Unstable connection”~ Dead on main.
Part 9.3. "A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." — Elbert Hubbard
~~~~~
Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.
Part 8. Part 9. New: Part 9.1. Part 9.2. Part 9.3.
Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Meme break №1. Part 13.
Roy: Look, I’m deeply flattered that you decided to talk about your feelings with me because you bats are allergic to them, but you’re seriously telling me that you’re texting a guy from out of Gotham? What for?
Jason: Do I need a reason?
Roy: Usually not, but I know you’re paranoid.
A cookie flies straight into Roy’s head.
Jason: Shut up. I know how to relax. He’s just a guy. No harm from boyf- a friend.
Roy: What you see in him? No, I rather have to ask how he tolerates you. I deserve a reward for being your best friend.
Jason: Hey, actually, I like Bizarro a lot more, just so you know, jerk. And we actually have more in common than it seems. He gets along with dead people who hang out in his town a lot. And.. I don’t know, okay? It’s just easy to talk to him, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would yell if he found out about me something weird for any other stranger. He feels like home. Safe one. I can rest when I talk to him, you know?
Roy: So you trust him? With everything?
Jason: I’m not an idiot and I’m not going to reveal everything until we talk offline. I don’t even know if I want to. Of course he’s not afraid of the undead from his town and he didn’t convict Hood for his actions when I asked him for his opinion, but talking about a specific person and some vigilante from the shadows is different. I don’t want him to be afraid of me or be disappointed in me. But somehow part of me believes that he will take this side of me. I sent him a picture with knives on my thighs, and he didn’t care. And one time, I messed up the chats and I sent him a threat that was meant to check on my new guys. He yelled at me. Because I could be reported to the police.
Roy: Well, if you like him, just try not to screw it up.
Jason: I’m trying. And by the way if Dick finds out about our conversation, I’ll throw you in the river.
Roy: Dude, you’ve known me for years! I bet you don’t threaten your lover like that! Have some trust.
Jason: Okay. So, I don’t know what to do, Roy. Fenton is perfect. But he’s a civilian. Phantom looks dead handsome but I know almost nothing about him. And what I know I learned from Danny. And now the fic that I’m writing is full of adult-rated scenes. Of course, I don’t add them to my work on ao3, but it’s still so weird.
Roy: Have you tried sending this to Fenton? With any luck, he’ll take it as flirting.
Jason: What? Hell no! He thinks I’m a mercenary for Red Hood. He’s gonna think I have wet fantasies about my boss and I’m gonna lose all self-respect, and he’s gonna block me and...
Roy: Okay, okay, slow down a little. We both know you’re weird, but you’re not that weird. And he’s not even your boyfriend. So his opinion doesn’t really matter.
Jason *whispers*: He's my husband. And it does.
Roy: Dude, I mean, I support your vibe but isn’t this guy supposed to know that he’s gonna have the title of the husband of a crime lord first.
Jason: Fair.
~~~~~~~
~Next morning~
Dick: So, I heard my Little Wing has a boyfriend. What’s his name? When are you bringing him to the family dinner?
Jason:…I’m gonna kill Harper.
~~~~~~~
Bizarro *on his way to tell all to Artemis and impress his good friend’s boyfriend*. First, he can leave a Red Hood doll by the window of a couple of his friend. It’ll help him understand that Bizarro isn’t dangerous and then the boy will want to be his friend too. Good plan, Pup Pup!
Dirty Thoughts || [Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader]
Note: Dirty thoughts don't care where you are, they just appear. Ghost learns this the hard way while he's waiting for Soap with you in that church tower.
(Sort of a part one here. But it can be read without that.)
Ghost and you made it to the church a few hours after escaping Shadow Company and he quickly set up a sniper position in the tower. He'd been keeping in touch with Soap the entire time, relieved to hear that the sergeant made it out of the situation alive. His thoughts were focused on the task to survive in a hostile environment, but the two of them tried to lighten the mood a bit by telling jokes to each other.
But then Soap went awfully quiet and he was beginning to worry. Did they find him? Was he in danger? Well, in bigger danger than usual, that is. "Where the hell is he?" he asked quietly, mostly from himself.
"I'm sure he's fine," you said with a reassuring smile as you pointed at two Shadows across the square.
Ghost casually took them out then turned to you. "He hasn't said a word in half an hour."
"Maybe he has to stay quiet now."
"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, even closing his eyes for a second while he took a deep breath to calm himself. "I hope he's okay out there," he spoke up eventually.
"It's cute that you're so worried."
"I'd rather call it annoying."
"Hey, look at me." Ghost did as you said and turned to you with a questioning look. There was something about the tone of your voice that managed to calm his thoughts in an instant. "He's a big boy, he can protect himself," you told him.
It was true. Soap was an experienced soldier, he could surely do it. He had been doing well before he went no contact, so maybe you were right, maybe he was just at a place that was full of Shadows. "You're right," he noted.
Letting out a sigh, he checked the square again but there was no sign of the enemy. Even though he tried to focus, his mind kept wandering back to the one thought that had been returning since the Shadows' betrayal. What happened was his fault alone, he was in charge, he should have put the pieces together sooner.
Shaking your head, you suddenly moved over to him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "What is it?" you asked with your eyes focused on him, and he could tell you were worried about him.
"This one's on me, I should have known better," he told you.
"What are you talking about? None of us saw that coming."
"You told us you didn't trust Graves."
You rolled your eyes at this. "Yeah, because he's like Prince Charming from Shrek," you began to explain. "Perfect and gorgeous on the outside, and an amoral idiot on the inside.
Perfect and gorgeous on the outside? Interesting. "Does this mean he's your type? Looks-wise, I mean," he clarified.
Ghost expected you to think about your answer, or at least hesitate to say it, but you immediately stated, "He is."
"So you're the type of girl who's head over heels for guys with blond hair and blue eyes," he noted quite sadly, believing for a moment that you wouldn't like what he looked like. After all, sure, you flirted with him when he had the mask on, but what would you think once he took it off? If you weren't his type then he didn't stand a chance.
Focusing on inhaling and exhaling, he looked into the scope of his weapon to check the square. He found a Shadow, eliminated it, then glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. It was strange. When he had told Soap not long ago that he was handsome under this mask, he wasn't lying. Past girlfriends said that often, picking up women had never been an issue, but this situation? This scared him.
What if you rejected him despite everything?
As if you figured out what was on his mind, you grabbed him by the chin to make him look at you. "Your eyes are just as beautiful. Just saying," you added with a warm smile.
"But you haven't seen my face yet," he pointed out.
"Yet? So there's a chance I will?" You sounded so excited all of a sudden, that it made him laugh. If only you knew what was going through his mind lately whenever he looked at you… Well, he could just as well tell you. "What? Why are you laughing?" you asked confusedly.
"Because I wouldn't do the things I want to do to you while wearing a mask," he said bluntly.
Your face lit up and you laughed a little as well. "You have my attention. Could you elaborate?"
"Ghost, you copy?" came Soap's voice through the earpiece.
Finally. "Johnny! Where are you?" he asked hurriedly.
"Not far from the RV point."
"We're already inside the church."
Soap remained silent for a few seconds. "We?"
"Y/N's with me," Ghost informed him. The two had talked a lot since the incident, but this was the first time he mentioned you at all.
"I thought she was on their side."
"Apparently not. We'll be waiting for you. Tell us when you get here."
"Rog."
"And keep me updated while you're on the way."
"Sure."
When Ghost looked over at you, relieved that Johnny was okay, he noticed that you were watching him with an expectant look. When he let out a questioning hum, you said, "So will you elaborate?"
Oh, that. "No." This wasn't the right time to discuss his dirty little thoughts with you. If he went into the details, there was a chance he would use the opportunity that you're alone to get what he wanted from you.
"Okay, keep your secrets then," you told him eventually, moving back to your previous spot and turning back to the square.
He did the same, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand. Soap would soon show up and it would be time to move. He had to make sure the area was clean by the time he got there, so he kept scanning his environment.
But it wasn't enough to avert his thoughts. Even the way you breathed caught his attention, and he kept finding himself looking over at you out of the corner of his eye. "You're killing me," he noted quietly.
But apparently he wasn't quiet enough because you turned to him with raised eyebrows. "I didn't say anything."
"You don't have to. Just being around you is getting frustrating," he admitted, talking about the effects of thinking about being intimate with you.
You looked around then pointed at the door. "Should I leave?" you asked.
"No."
Upon hearing this, you let out a quiet chuckle. "Thought so."
"Shadows are committing war crimes outside, Soap's fighting for his life somewhere, and here I am, having trouble not thinking about fucking your brains out. Unbelievable," he groaned.
"I'm a distraction."
"That you are."
"That's bad."
He nodded. "Really bad, yeah."
Once you broke eye contact and turned back to the small window, you cleared your throat. "Well, you'd better figure something out because Soap will soon get here and it will be time to move. You need to focus."
"Trust me, I'm on it," he barked, maybe sounding a little colder than intended.
Just before you could come up with something, Soap's voice filled his ear. "I'm almost there."
"We'll meet you outside."
"Copy."
"Let's go, he's almost here," he told you as he stood up and began to gather his things. You did the same then began to walk towards the door, but he quickly reached out to grab your hand. "Hey, wait." You stopped and gave him a questioning look. "Be careful out there."
"You too," you said with a smile as you squeezed his hand.
ever since you’ve became friends with hobie, he makes your insides feel all weird. he’s got to know what this feeling is. he can probably help you with it, right?
caution! mdni 6k wrdz, mentions of religion, reader is super sheltered, set in a college setting, black fem reader, fingering reader receiving, oral reader receiving, corruption kink mayb just barely, hobie is real gentle, everything happens on a desk, blushing is described but can’t be physically seen, unrealistic description of coochie juice we all know it doesn’t actually taste like that hobie is just obsessed, the smut section is a littleeee bit short but i def think i could expand on this in the future pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs
hobie has been a good friend of yours for a few month now. it all really started at a party at the college you attend. with it being your first year, every experience is a new one. your sheltered childhood only further added to it.
it was easy, hobie always claims, to tell you didn’t belong when you stood in the room, eyes wide and frantic. not to mention, you were fully dressed in jeans and a sweater. he didn’t understand how you hadn’t passed out, yet.
he walks up to you that very same night. your panic only became more evident when he’s introducing himself. “you alright, love?” and he’s truthfully concerned. you’re nearly shaking, hands clasped together.
you explain to him what happened. that the group of girls you came with disappeared, that you don’t know anyone here, that you’re extremely overwhelmed.
it’s hobie who leaves the party early, despite enjoying himself. he escorts you back to your room and stands outside your door until it’s clicked shut and locked. he also leaves his number in your phone that night with the innocent promise to help you with whatever you need.
the reaction from your parents is expected when you tell them what happened. you receive a scolding for going to the party and indulging in secular music and sin, as well as trusting a man and allowing him access to your room. you can argue that you didn’t invite him in but your parents won’t and don’t listen.
you’re used to it, used to their lectures that you actually heed their warnings. all your life you’ve been living by their rules. no boys and no parties. church every sunday, home at nine. you’ve even accepted the routine phone checks every night with no back-talk. this has been your way of living since forever.
so of course the big, gentle, temptation himself intrigues you to no end when you’re presented with such an open gateway. you’re sure if your god-fearing parents saw him, they’d have a heart attack right on the spot.
six five and exactly what your parents warned you against. piercings galore, stick and poke tattoos decorating his skin. his hair is assorted into wicks, which you don’t mind but your relatives would have called him sloppy. not to mention the clothes he wears, decorated in spikes and chains. sometimes the gems in his belt catches the sun in just the right way and he glows like an angel.
hobie gives you butterflies and not just in your stomach but in other places as well.
you don’t know what to do about the fluttering in your pussy when hobie’s had grazes your thigh when he bends to pick something up. even the word pussy has your face warming up.
at first, you thought it would be a one time, unrelated thing. the wet mess in your panties shocked you after spending your evening with hobie. you made a mental note to stop by the doctors in case it was something serious and went about your night.
and then it happened again and every night since. coincidentally, you’re with hobie every night, only to return to the safety of your dorm and deal with the same heated feeling.
that’s exactly how you find yourself in this dilemma tonight. you’re as quiet as a mouse, strewn across his bed. the strip led lights cast a blue shadow on the room. hobie is across from you at his desk, clicking around in some music making site you wouldn’t even try to comprehend.
his headphones are over his head, stretched to the biggest setting to accommodate his hair and his fingers, nails painted black, tap against the wooden desk. hobie can’t hear you with the noise filling his ears. he hums softly to the beat.
you’ve been staring at him for a while, now. originally, you were working on some homework due that night but your gaze found him and his sharp jawline that’s just barely visible from the diagonal angle he’s sitting.
before you know it, your eyes have wandered downwards until you’re looking at his legs, wide and manspreeding. your downstairs area does that weird pulsating thing.
you lips form into a pout and you shift to remove the discomfort. you never actually made it to the doctor, having realized this is only something you experience around hobie. despite this unusual situation find yourself in, distancing yourself from him wasn’t an option. oddly enough, he’s one of the few people that didn’t make you feel other.
“come listen to this.” hobie swivels in her chair to face you. he pops the headphones off his head and waves you over. “was thinkin’ about submittin’ it as my project.”
you sheepishly shake your head. your cheeks burn at the possibility of him catching you. “oh, i don’t think you want me to.” it makes you nervous to partake in the creation of something so vividly can nonreligious. you're already laying in his bed, unsupervised and alone with him. all your teachings let you know it could lead to other things.
he tilts his head, dangling the headphones off his fingertips. you can hear the punk rock melody blaring from where you’re stationed. “you never wanna listen to my music. scared or somethin’?” he doesn’t wait for a response, already slapping the bluetooth headphones back over his ears and turning back.
hobie already knows the answer but he’s uncaring, regardless. he’s become accustomed to your thinking and even though he feels it’s distorted with reality, he doesn’t judge you for it. nor does he blame you.
you’re back to staring at him and the way his hands dance across the keys. his hands are so big, you think. each finger is slender and long and could probably swallow you whole.
you take your lips in between your teeth with a disgruntled sigh. all these impure thoughts are driving you up the wall. you can’t even blame him because he’s doing nothing to provoke it. you, apparently, just can’t control yourself.
with hobie’s back to you, you’re able to silently pack your stuff up. your laptop is tucked away into your bag and you grab your spiral notebook. he doesn’t notice you’re preparing to leave until you softly slide off his platformed bed and shove your feet into the soles of your matte mary janes.
“where are you going, duck?” he pushes the left side back until it’s no longer covering his ear, rapidly glancing at you.
“my room.” you grab your hello kitty lanyard off his desk. “i’m going to do my work in there. can’t do it here. i’m too distracted.” you sling your bag over your shoulder.
“shit, is it me? hobie pauses his track. he’s rapidly hanging his headphones on the stand and jumping to his feet. “at least let me walk you back.”
hobie stuffs his feet in his traditional black boots. he doesn’t care enough to tie the blue, ladder laced laces. he’s already grabbing that loud, extravagantly pinned vest before you have a chance to blink.
“no, you don’t have to do that.” you nervously fiddle with the blue ribbon tied at the base of your braid. “i don’t want to inconvenience you and it’s not the far from your room.”
he merely tsked and rests his hand atop your head, right in between the pigtails. “darlin’ there’s no chance i’m lettin’ you walk your little self back alone. you of all people? fuck no.”
“hobie!” you chastise, hands flying up to cover your ears. the keys dangle and bump again your cheek. your mom always told you that anyone who says adverse words is going straight to hellfire. you didn’t want to be apart of that.
he opens the door and motions you through, a hand on the small of your back. “you’d follow a man to his truck just ‘cause he said please.”
the warmth from his fingertips spread throughout the nerves on your spine and you feel like you’re on fire. you pout and it can easily be mistaken for your opposing opinions on your naivety.
“sorry but it’s true.” the door clicks shut when both of you have stepped outside it. hobie shoves his keys inside his pocket and begins down the hallway to the elevator. he hasn’t noticed you trailing behind him, teeming with explanations as to why your core throbs at the sight of him.
you do this all the way until you’re out the door of the men’s dormitory. you haven’t uttered a word, thumb rubbing against the warming metal of the cross dangling around your neck.
it’s not like you’ve ever felt this feeling before. not even around the other boys you’ve been around. granted, your hangouts were never like this. it was always under adult supervision, even in your older years, and you mostly saw each other during youth groups and summer camps. this, what you’re feeling now, is an entirely new and uncharted territory.
“hobie,” you start. the warm summer breeze ripples across your skin and leaves behind a chill of the promised winter to follow.
hobie lifts his head. the rock he kicked scattered off the sidewalk and into the grass. he hasn’t spoken to you. either. that’s the best thing about him. he doesn’t ask questions, letting you process things your own way. hobie is all too aware of your differences and has no problem letting you take your time.
“i have a question. it’s kind of personal, i think.” you take a brief pause before each word, meticulously picking them to match your uncertainty.
hobie is still silent. at some point, you would have begin to question if he’s even listening to you if it weren’t for the way he lazily shifted his gaze over to you.
“are you . . . have you ever gotten this feeling in your stomach? like a hot one.” you wet your lips. your heart is about ready to stop beating. how do you explain this to him? are you just supposed to tell him he makes your no-no square all fired up? do people say that?
“what are you goin’ on about, lovely? has my stomach ever burned? yeah, if i eat enough dairy.” he chuckles with a small shake of his head. unbeknownst to him, that is not at all what you’re referring to and you are too ashamed to ask him again.
“never mind,” you say with your head hung low.
it’s your parents fault and the way they neglected to teach you about your body. it’s not like you’re a complete idiot and you know sex can lead to children. however, you were taught that sex is bad and children are blessings so it’s fair to say you’re a bit clueless on the contrasting beliefs. not to mention this weird feeling a boy invokes. the boy that might as well be the son of satan himself.
you sigh, heavy and drawn, pulling your keycard out your lanyard. it scans and the lock beeps, allowing you both entrance into the girls dormitory.
hobie lifts an arm and holds the door open over your head. he’s confused. it’s obvious you’re mulling over something, putting so much energy into it that you don’t notice the weight of his eyes boring into the back of your head.
it isn’t until you’re standing in front of your door does he speak his mind. “what’s keepin’ your head so busy?”
your hand is steady on the handle but you have yet to turn it. you can feel the heat from his body standing so close to yours and just once you wish for him to reach forward and put his hand — oh no.
“m – maybe you should just come inside.” you yank your door open and pull him behind you. it’s a drastic decision on your part. never have you ever invited any man in your room, not even hobie. at best, he got glimpses of the shared living space but never of your room down the hall. he’s always walked you back, stood at your door until you were safe inside, and made his exit. always.
even when he’s come to walk you to class, your roommates would open the door and invite him in but he’d stay planted right at your welcome mat. hobie knows you, knows what silly boundaries you have but he follows them strictly because as long as you’re comfortable, he’s comfortable.
“hold on, look at me.” hobie finds himself abruptly stopping in your living room. he yanks his arm until you’ve spun back around and settles his hands atop your shoulders. his eyes fall on your lips, caught between you teeth and nearly knawed raw. he doesn’t miss your hands clenched into tiny fists by your side. “are you okay? this isn’t like you to act so . . . erratic.”
he has to stop his curiosity from getting the best of him and drink in the interior decorations you’ve done. out the corner of his eyes, he can tell just what you contributed, different nooks and crannies filled with pink trinkets and round eyed figurines. you’re the sweetest thing all worked up and making rash decisions. he doesn’t like where this is leading.
you give him a small nod of your head, eyes downcast and on the tops of his worn boots. the grime is welcoming. better than looking in his eye and having him see how unnerved you are.
as if you aren’t shaking under his grasp.
“dove, don’t lie to me. if there is somethin’ wrong, you need to let me know and i need to hear you say it.” his hands drop to your elbows, fingertips just barely touching your skin. hobie knows you’re avoiding him, avoiding addressing something big but welcoming him in your personal space. the contrast is enormous and it’s especially a big deal for you.
“i’m f – fine. i just . . .” you timidly shift your feet, sweatered arms going to wrap around yourself. you’re clutching your cross again, attention boring into the floor. “. . . can we please talk about it in my room. it’s not something i want to say here.”
he’s hesitant to let you go, drawing in a breath. you’re going to be the death of him, he decides, with the way you concern him but he’ll take your word for it. maybe, maybe just maybe you know exactly what you want.
he allows you to take him back to your room, pushing the door open. immediately, he gets a good whiff of the clean linen wax you have burning in your wax warmer.
your space is tidy, but not necessarily clean. you’re a bit of a maximalist, soft blankets and frills draped around your room. you have posters and paper hearts hanging on your wall, a my melody rug laying in the floor beneath your chair.
there’s a couple flower cushions strewn about and plenty of stuffed animals to go around. you have fairy lights across the wood of bed, casting the room in soft yellow lighting. there’s a rack in the corner full of lacey clothes that he assumes you’re planning on wearing soon.
you look so comfortable, fitting right in. of course you do, considering you decorated it yourself. hobie lingers at the edge of the room while you go through your routine of taking off your shoes and putting your bag by your desk. you’re putting your earrings in the strawberry shaped jewlery holder when you finally address him.
“you don’t have to stand there like that. you can take your shoes off and stuff,” you speak with your back turned to him. you know it’s weird, having him in here. it’s weirder when hobie acts as if his presence in your room will turn it into an active landmine.
hobie licks his lips, hands deep inside his pockets. he doesn’t even want to let his eyes linger too long on anything in fear he’s taint your purity, full of innocence and hope. “what am i here for?”
you rest your hand against the cool, light colored wood of your desk. you feel feverish, the topic making your palm sticky with sweat. the room suddenly gets hot and you’re clearing your throat while motioning for hobie to close the door. “um, well . . .” you trail off, tapping your manicured fingers loud enough to fill the silence with quiet clicks and clacks. “i have something to ask you.”
“ ‘nd you needed to bring me here to ask me?” his head tilts in deep skepticism. hobie leans against the white wall next to your door. he doesn’t want to go any further. he doesn’t belong here.
you’re irked, hands flying to wrap around yourself. the ruffles at the bottom of your dress rub against each other like flower petals in a spring breeze. “just listen! i have something serious to ask you and you’re being awkward. it’s making me awkward.”
hobie lifts and drops his shoulders. he’s tense when he crosses the threshold of your room and takes an uncomfortable seat at your desk chair. “sorry doll but we both know i’m not supposed to be in here. what do you want to talk about? make it quick so i can go.” he leans back as far as the chair will allow, eyes up and on you.
his question demands a straight forward response, one that you cannot provide. you don’t know what is happening, yourself. you’re back to your silence, grasping for words to form an explanation. “remember when i asked you if your stomach ever burned before?”
“not this again. i thought we already talked about –”
“no! listen.” you’re shouting at him again, lips pressed into a pout. you’re just barely working up the courage and you need to get it out before it goes away. “lately, i’ve been feeling like that but not in my stomach.”
you’re speaking so fast, hobie can barely understand you. he just catches your words, suddenly sitting up with his brows knitted together. “are you okay? sick?” he presses his hands flesh against your cheeks and forehead but your skin isn’t warm to the touch.
“n – no. not that i know of.” you nearly whine when his fingertips brush along your waist as they’re lowered back to his side. “it’s a little uncomfortable.” you rub your knees together in an attempt to satiate the ache between your thighs.
hobie has enough experience to recognize the little shuffle you do, accompanied by the needy glint in your eye. it startles him. not you. anyone but you, miss purity herself. he’s seeing things. “then what?”
he’s terrified of the way you look at him, eyes glossed over. the cherry colored blush dusted across your cheeks appeals to your cherubic state. this is his worst nightmare and best dream, that you would entice him like this.
it isn’t easy to ignore the chub of your ass that you’re unaware you carry and the softness of your breasts when you grab his arm and press your body against his. it especially isn’t easy to ignore the sweetness in your voice when you plead and chastise him for his vulgar words and behavior. oh how badly does he want to twist your brain but he won’t. he can’t allow himself to. you’re too good for that and that’s the problem.
“i feel weird inside around you, hobie. only you and . . . i don’t know.” you’re meek and quiet, face advert and back in the ruffled hem of your white socks. you cross and uncross your ankles to satisfy your need to stir and wriggle. “i wasn’t going to say anything but i don’t know how to make it stop and sometimes it hurts.”
you look so pitiful and pretty like this, almost begging for his help. it doesn’t take a genius to understand what you mean but hobie can’t bring himself to act on it. it feels so wrong on so many levels. he can’t take advantage of your unawareness like this.
“aw baby,” he has to curl his fingers into his palm to prevent himself from reaching out and grabbing you. that’s why you were so insistent on coming to your room. “you don’t want my help with that.” he keeps telling himself he has to be the bigger person, the one who thinks clearly.
“i do,” you insist, daring to take a bold step closer until you’re slotted between his knees. it’s a lot for you, coiling in on yourself to find comfort despite acting out your comfort zone. “i can’t take it anymore. you don’t understand.”
his hand comes up to rest against your cheek, following an empathetic shake of his head. “no, you don’t understand. you don’t even know what you’re talking about. what am i supposed to do if you can’t even tell me what you’re talking about?”
hobie stands, presumably to take his leave. he pushes you away from him by your waist. he’s stopped when you wrap your hand around his slender wrist, staring up at him with big, entreating eyes.
“please? anything? please, hobie. i’ll take anything just help me do something. tell me what to do, i don’t care. it’s terrible and uncomfortable and i can’t bear it anymore.”
he takes one look at you and is met with your waterline, gathering in tears of desperation. all his resolve slowly breaks until he’s cupping your cheeks with a soft sigh. “you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? babblin’ about shit you don’t even understand.” he’s gentle, backing you up until your knees are knocking against your desk. he sits you up there, hands resting on either side of you.
“hobie,” you reprimand him again for his words out of habit, hands going to cover your ears again.
he stops them, much larger ones enscasing yours with a tut of his tongue. “don’t even. you don’t get to complain about me sayin’ shit and fuck and whatever else. not right now.” he presses your palm against his lips, piercings warm against your skin.
your mouth falls open, only to wordlessly shut. you don’t know what to say, what to do. all you know is you’re slightly overwhelmed with the future possibilities. what’s about to happen? what is he going to do?
“i don’t even know what to do with you. you sure this is what you want?” hobie doesn’t feel he needs to ask with the way you were begging him but he can’t help it. you’re such a sweet thing, asking him to do something about your aching cunt. you don’t even know what you’re asking him.
you nod, eyes widening when his hand falls over your knee. it’s a respectful distance but you’re anxious, already wiggling under his gaze. “you keep asking me.”
“i know darlin’ but can you blame me? just gotta make sure.” hobie ever-so-swiftly slides his hand up your thigh until his thumb is brushing against the front of your panties. he isn’t interested in beating around the bush and quite frankly, it would be so much better to just get the first touch done for. break the ice just enough.
your body immediately reacts, legs pressing closed as far as you can get them. your eyebrows knit together as your nerves crackle and pop with a sudden desire you haven’t felt before. “i’m s – sure.”
“never had this pretty pussy played with before have you? ‘course not. you’re a good girl.”
you hate the way he’s talking to you. it’s not quite derogatory but it makes you feel otherworldly in a negative way. as if you have no clue what he’s talking about. you don’t. and his words are so unclean.
“not gonna fuck you tonight. you’re not ready for that, yet.” he aids your legs back open with a firm grip, holding them in place. “you know what that means, yeah?” hobie doesn’t mean it as an insult, circling his thumb around your already puffy clit.
“mhm,” you’re wiggling again, lip caught between your teeth. you’ve heard the phrase in passing, understanding the word and its context. never have you used it, yourself. you’re clueless, not dumb.
hobie bunches your white dress up by your hips. he’s greeted with a view of your black panties, dark enough to conceal the dampening spot but he can still feel it beneath the pad of his thumb.
your glittery lip gloss has begun to spill over your plump lip and dribble down your chin with how much you quiver. he swipes the excess off, lightly chuckles at the way you fawn and fall over.
just over the clothes touching has you like this, mewling and hiccuping and doing your best to conceal it. it’s endearing, the way you try to maintain his level of composure.
he continues toying with you, a bit hesitant. it’s not like him but hobie knows he has to take his time with you. he can’t rush. he has to prep you thoroughly, get you used to his touches. this is what you want.
“and you’re not gonna act all shy when i take these off, are you?” his finger hooks through the leg hole, snapping the fabric back until it pops against you when it’s released. “or are you still trying to be a little angel?”
the thought of hobie pulling your underwear down and seeing what no one, let alone a man, has seen. your private jewels that you’re sure are soaping wet the way they are every other night. your cheeks heat up and you squeeze your eyes shut, knees trying to do the same. “no, i’m not.” you’re trying to be so brave, it’s cute.
“don’t worry, dolly. not yet. just gonna rub your cunt, just like this.” he pushes and pulls on your clit, hot underneath the pressure of his thumb. it has your hips shuffling in an attempt to rut against him. he doesn’t know if you’re aware, the way you stare at him like he hung the moon himself. “could make you cum like this, i bet. you ever done that before?”
a particular jerk of his finger has you gasping and grabbing whatever part of him you can get to first, his forearm and his shoulder. “i never –,” your chest heaves with a broken moan, partially restrained, “n – no. i don’t.”
as far as you know, premature sex and masturbation is a sin. you have never been tempted before even meeting hobie. not only would he be the first to touch you but he’d be the first to make you cum.
his boxers get increasingly more tight at the thought. you’re so pure and he’s so lucky, being the first, even before you, to dip his fingers between your folds. he can barely restrain himself.
hobie plants himself in your hair, his gruff groan vibrating your scalp. he can’t help the way his thumb jostles your clit. it’s nearly primal, how badly he wants to draw an orgasm out of you and he knows you’ll do it so easy with how pent up and inexperienced you are.
“you don’t gotta hide it, baby. let me hear you, dove. tell me what you like so i can make you feel good.” your hair smells of vanilla and shea butter. it makes hobie want to devour every part of you, his long cock leaking with precum but he has to remember to take his time. he has to.
“hobie . .” your weak whine fills the hazy spot in his brain that’s indulged so deeply in every part of you. you don’t have to tell him for him to know, it’s obvious in how you’re unable to be still, nails stabbing into his skin. “i f – feel weird.” you’re so wound up.
hobie pulls his head back. he feels heavy with need as he tilts your chin towards his face. he just wants to see you, that’s all. he just needs to see the expression you make the first time you cum. “don’t fight it, sweet girl. just let it happen. it’ll feel real good.” his thumb strokes your jawline, coaxing you to give in to the growing lust filled pit in your stomach.
hobie knows you cum simply because he can feel it. your pussy spams so hard, he swears he can hear it. he doesn’t even have to put a finger up to your entrance to feel the pulsating. it’s almost as if your hole is searching for something to suck in.
your mouth has fallen open in a tiny o, working your body into hobie’s through your experience. he was right. it felt so good, satiating the need and burn of your body. it’s almost addicting, the way your body reacts to his touch. your brain is becoming mush with each throb. “oh my goodness.” you speak in between breaths, finally releasing hobie and drawing back your nails.
he only chuckles, rubbing at your thighs. “that was good, wasn’t it? did it help your little problem?” he plays with the bottom of your dress, conflicted between pulling it down to set you free and suggesting another round. you offered a starved man a seat at the table.
you smile shyly at him. you don’t know what to say now, what to do. your friend just made you cum after you begged him to. how do people do this casually? “yes, thank you. i’m deeply sorry for being so forceful.”
at this, hobie laughs out loud. it’s genuine and booming against the walls. it seems he has yet to break you in but he supposed he was too hopeful. of course he couldn’t turn you into something like him just from rubbing on you a little bit.
“you’re all good, duck. you weren’t being forceful, at all.” he pulls out the desk chair and takes a seat, getting comfortable in the flower shaped cushion. his limber fingers are back to picking at the side of your panties. he’s a bit hungry, he thinks.
his eyes, dark and narrowed, do something to you. you don’t understand. you can still feel the sticky mess in your underwear but something is stirring inside you, again.
you both stare at each other in a heated silence, thinking the same thing but waiting for the other to say it first.
“you want me to eat you out?” hobie is the first to speak with his head tilted. he’s far more impatient and bold to play around. when he wants something, he’ll take it.
at first, you believe you heard him incorrectly. “do i want you to what?” you feel stupid having to ask but you’re truly at a loss. “i’m sorry. hobie, i don’t know what that is.”
hobie is the luckiest man in the world. if he could whip his cock out and slide it inside you, he would but having you on his tongue would be the next best thing, especially when you’re asking him what that is. “you’re about to find out.” he murmurs, pulling you to the edge of the desk.
you’re surprised when hobie yanks your underwear down, lifting up a hip at a time to get it down your legs and tossed across the room. both the cool air and his dark gaze has you snapping your legs shut. there’s too many things to hide from and you’re unprepared.
“no, no. don’t shut me out like that.” he has his hands hooked under your knees and props them on your shoulders. his excuse is that it would be better for you to manage but truthfully, he does it to get an eye to cunt view. he pulls you even closer until your lower body is dipping into his lap and you’re relying on him to hold you up. “you’re gonna like it, i promise.”
“oh, i don’t know about this.” you grip the edge of the desk, still sitting up and getting a perfect view of the carnal look in hobie’s eye. he actually licks his lips, flicking his attention up to you for only a second.
“just once. just try it once and if you don’t like it, we can stop. you have my word.”
you don’t know how much you can trust him like this but his warm breathe is just tickling you in all the best ways. it’s hypnotizing enough to have you nodding in agreement before you know it. “o – okay.”
hobie has enough sense, what little he has left, to put a hand in your tummy and pushing you down until your back is against the cool wood. he doesn’t have to tell you to stay there. he just knows you will, especially when you’re gasping at the feeling of his hot tongue on your cunt.
your sap is sweet and unbelievably so. like cherries and strawberries and mangos on a warm summer day. he’s delusional, drunk already and nose deep in your cunt.
his tongue finds your entrance as the source of the sweetness all to easy. he’s addicted to it, each suckle and slurp persuading more of your cream to pour out your hole.
it doesn’t take you long to start writhing, hand all in his hair, tugging in every direction. each swipe of his tongue and bump of his nose in your clit has your back arching. it’s better than you could have ever imagined. you can’t believe you were about to turn this down, or the fact that you didn’t allow yourself to experience such pleasure simply because of your parents fears.
you cry and sob, legs shaking on his shoulders. you can’t decide whether or not you want to tighten your legs around his head or open them wider to accept more of him. “hobie, p – please!”
hobie almost doesn’t hear you. almost.
your words just barely float around his brain but your pleas stick just enough for him to push your legs up by the bottom of your thighs. he keeps you hooked there so strongly, he’s able to grasp your hand and maintain his hold.
it sounds so wet that it’s humiliating. you can’t believe these sounds are coming from you, that hobie’s tongue is deep in you, that he has you folded like this. you didn’t know this was possible.
your body is all warm all over again. you’re fortunate there’s no excess clutter on your desk with the way hobie has you. your hands fly to the metal structure holding your bed together, mouth drying from how long you’ve held it open.
you swear it comes faster than it did before. it occurs to you that you’re a ticking time bomb. the previous orgasm has your clit feeling like each touch is a hot stone.
it’s as if hobie steals your breath with your growing cries at your approaching release. you don’t know what to do with yourself, where to put your hands. it’s overwhelming, your second orgasm and the first time anyone has ever “eaten you out”.
“feel weird again!” you say through broken sobs. you’re met with hobie’s acknowledging hands massaging into your skin. he’s coaxing, encouraging you without having to remove himself from his new favorite spot in the world, right between your thighs.
it gives you whiplash with how quickly your orgasm comes, pushing out of you as if the first one never happened. it’s just as strong, if not stronger. your body trembles with your spurts of cream. it’s weeks worth of sexual frustration to know end and a confusing search of a solution, all washed off you in one night.
you’re so sensitive, you have to push him off with your feet at his chest and chest heaving for air. “fuck, that was good.”
“did you just say fuck?” hobie leans over you, bringing the bottom of his shirt up to wipe your sheen off his face. he’s well amused, almost snorting at your response. that had to be his influence.
“did i?” you cover your mouth with quick regret. you didn’t realize it rolled off your tongue so easy.
hobie grins, pulling you to seating and then to your feet. he tries not to ogle at you too much. it’s difficult when your lower half is completely exposed and he’s still so desperately horny but he puts your needs first, closing his eyes and clearing his throat. “you got somethin’ to clean you up with? wipes or somethin’ until you shower?”
you open your desk drawer and pull out a pack of baby wipes. you present the package to hobie, who pops it open and takes one out.
he doesn’t ask you to move, merely just lowers himself to the ground and with gentle hands, wipe up the mixed mess of saliva and your juices.
you whine, presumably from the unavoidable ache that accompanies your sensitivity.
“i’m sorry, lovely. have to,” hobie tries to be as quick and harmless as possible, soothing you with kisses to your inner thigh. they’re well mannered and innocent, until you’re clean enough and he’s throwing the baby wipe away. “are you okay, though? you don’t regret it, do you?”
you watch hobie straighten out your dress again. his gaze is as polite as it can get, avoiding any look at your pussy, although its right in front of him. instead, he meets your eyes until he rises to his feet. “um, no.” you’re back to being quiet, hands clasped and fumbling with each other.
you’re suddenly aware of how close he’s standing but it’s short lived when hobie is making his way back to the door to put his shoes on.
“i’m gonna go because i’m sure you want to process that and get your space and whatever else, yeah? but don’t worry, i’ll answer your texts and your calls.” he does feel bad, as if he’s fuck-and-dashing you but in reality, if he doesn’t get out of here, he’ll be too tempted to try and actually fuck you. “i’ll be back tomorrow to walk you to class, doll.”
you’re speechless as you watch him gather himself to leave, grateful for the space because you could probably explode right now. you also miss your panties just barely peeking out of his pocket.
“and feel free me to ask me again if you ever need my help.” and with that, he’s gone with a soft click of your door.