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bunny-yan · 6 months

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can you write more about the yandere king pls

TW:non-con touching, imbalanced power dynamics, implied violence, mentions nudity, minors DNI

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“Yes, your highness.”

He couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at the edges of his lips.

An order given, command received, and your response?

“Yes, your highness.”

Sweet, sweet words that dripped like honey in his ears.

It didn’t matter that he’d heard those words from the day the goddess decided to bless his life givers with their only son. His birthright. Servants, nobles, and foreign royalty alike uttered the same words, but when they came from your lips they sounded like poetry. Obedience from lips that were his, head bowed, your subservience an oath. Your words, your vow.

The order wasn’t important.

He could tell you to crawl around on the floor, on your hands and knees and you would stay there until he was bored. He’d told you to remove that pesky clothing and although your hands were hesitant, your demeanor reluctant, you obeyed.

“Yes, your highness.” would come your quiet reply. Movements methodical, clothes slowly fell into a heap around your feet until there was nothing left to remove.

He never did understand why you bothered to hide your nakedness. It was hard to believe that you were still shy knowing he’d already seen everything. Already experienced the taste of your skin, ingrained your smell into his memory. Maybe you didn’t like the way his eyes stared as if he was gazing into your very soul. Maybe you felt vulnerable, exposed and cold. Maybe you simply liked having him order you around, liked whispering the same words that had him crossing his legs and resting his head in his head. From his seat he observed you, lounging as if arrogance was his second skin.

You wished he would get it over with. It was a usual undeserved punishment. You no longer bothered to guess what mistake landed you in this position, but that didn’t stop you from wondering if it was because you had taken too long to retrieve the pen from his study, lingering away from his presence longer than you should have, or if it was because you’d brushed across that nobleman the two of you passed when the two of you went on your daily walk. There were no obvious signs of his anger or irritation, so he could be doing this simply for his own amusement. It didn’t matter because the result would always be the same. This agonizing slow torture, meant to degrade you, to put you in your place, to show you just how little control you had in your own life. Sometimes it felt more painful than the bruises he would leave.

The silence only made it more unbearable.

You felt his eyes sweeping over your body, taking his time as they dissected you.

Could he see the way you would tense, trying to remain as still as possible so his eyes wouldn’t be tempted to stare longer? Did he notice the goosebumps that spread like a plague lasting as long as you resisted the urge to shudder from the chill that gripped your spine?

Your back was locked straight, hands resisting the urge to clench into fists as they rested flat on your thighs, feet together. You didn’t hunch over, though it was hard to avoid when you were neglected the basic protection you could offer yourself. You stood straight, not giving him a chance to elicit that disgusting response.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The words were empty, coming from a doll rather than a person.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Reminding you time and time again of the words you couldn’t say. The orders you weren’t allowed to disobey. You never knew how much embarrassment, how much fear, how much resentment could build from three simple words.

Your gaze snapped to his feet when he uncrossed his legs, body tensing before you could think of what he’d do. Of what he’d subject you to this time, but you felt an undeniable disgust at the fear he invoked in you and at the sight of one leg lifting over the other as he settled back into that comfortable position and continued to watch you without a word. You were thankful that your head was bowed, because you were unsure you would be able to properly maintain a plain expression.

“Turn around.” he called, speaking as an intrigued spectator.

The display obeyed.

You couldn’t make it too quick or else he would make you do it over again. Goddess forbid you insinuate you want to get it over with. You would be standing in the same spot until your knees were ready to give out and even then, he would only be oh, so helpful to assist. If that meant you had to stand directly in front of him with your hands braced against the arms of his chair, feeling every breath he took, you would remain there until he was finished.

You took small, shuffling steps, feelings of awkwardness and foolishness remaining as a tiny spark despite the many incidents you underwent to grow use to this treatment. You didn’t stumble as your feet tangled in the clothes beneath your feet, grateful to save yourself the embarrassment as you completed the rotation he asked for. You didn’t have a chance to settle before he was giving you another order. A gross hope that he was ready to end this filled you as quiet steps led you directly in front of him.

You couldn’t avoid his eyes when you were so close. It’d always bothered you how collected he remained despite his callous treatment.

Holding up a hand, he expended no effort as he said, “My glove.”

You nodded, continuing to avoid the gaze drilling holes into your eyes. One hand landed on his wrist, his gaze broiling with something you tried to ignore as your other hand plucked at the cloth on each finger before slipping the accessory off of his hand.

There was no acknowledgement other than the bare hand that rested itself on your hip. You gripped the glove in your hand, tensing before you could force yourself to remain relaxed. He didn’t notice or he didn’t care as his thumb kneaded into your hip.

“You’ve lost weight.” he commented, grateful that he didn’t look to you for a reply. It was difficult enough to mindlessly follow orders, having to think of a way to soften an explanation for your tormentor was hell.

What would you say? Because of course it wasn’t his fault. He only wanted what was best for you, especially if that meant you would need to be disciplined. If you were locked in a room without food or water for a couple of days for shying away from his touch, it was your own fault. If your punishment continued because you didn’t beg and plead for forgiveness, content to endure instead of giving him the willing affection he so desperately craved, it was your own fault. What he asked for was not difficult to achieve. It was painfully simple.

Do what he said, when he said it without any indication of rebellion and you would be fine. But those pesky little habits of avoiding his eyes and leaning away, that annoying flinching that you still had yet to shake only made him give more difficult orders. His demands growing with his frustration.

His hand slid up the side of your body until it rested at the top of your ribs, sliding across your body and tracing patterns in the dips and curves he found.

He couldn’t deny that a part of him that enjoyed the side of you that tried to resist him.

It was a waste of time, but the lack of understanding you had created an unpredictability in your behavior that was enticing.

How you would gamble and how he would punish you. It was a cycle he couldn’t get tired of.

“Are you cold?” he asked, a small smile dancing across his lips.

It was a question with no right answer.

“Yes, your highness.” His smile only grew.

Drawing his hand away, he spread his arms, beckoning you to come closer.

Again, you hesitated, aggravating his displeasure. He held back the urge to snatch you closer, needing to control himself if you were going to fully face your punishment.

He was patient, noting the way you took your time, avoiding his touch until the very last moment until you were unsettled in his lap.

Arm wrapping around your waist he gave you no time to prepare as a hand slid between your legs. You let out a gasp, your body instinctively jerking away, but he held you tighter, ordering you to be still. You turned your head, pushing your face past his shoulder so he wouldn’t see your flushed face.

You tried to think about something else, anything else so you could get your mind off of his demanding fingers, and strangely enough an old memory surfaced, one you’d long since forgotten in your time of servicing your prince, now king.

You’d rarely enter the King’s study. Not only were you responsible for his son, the prince who resided in the Eastern domain, you being the lowly servant that you were had no business being anywhere near the King’s palace. But today was different. You had documents that your father needed for his duties and as the King’s butler, the first place you went to look was where the King would naturally be.

You were anxious at the thought that you had to appear if only a moment before the King, only growing more so at the lack of guards in front of the King’s door. With no one to announce your presence, you debated whether you should knock and after hearing muffled voices and noticing a crack in the door, curiosity and the lack of watchful eyes led you to peek in.

A sense of pride overwhelmed you at the sight of your father serving the King. You’d always wanted to be like him when you were younger. But it froze, heavy in your gut when you watched your father bend to pour tea into his majesty’s cup. You thought nothing of the hand that came up, the same hand that brushed across your father’s cheek.

You questioned what you’d seen. Maybe it was a mistake, but it was soft, gentle even and regardless of the excuses you came up with in your mind it didn’t sit right with you. You stared at your father’s undisturbed face, stolid as the King spoke words too soft for you to hear,but your father’s response melted the anxiety you felt into undeniable dread.

“Yes, my King.”

You couldn’t remember if you’d given him the documents you needed. You don’t remember anything apart from leaving, nothing the prince doing or saying that day able to shake you out of your stupor.

Despite the resentment you felt for your king, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the goddesses blessing in disguise.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #king!yandere #yandere king x servant reader

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willowser · 1 month

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HMMMMMM interesting to think about arranged marriage with prince shouto...............

i think he wouldn't know. what to expect with you. i think he'd have an idea, as in, what his father, the king, has taught him; the duties of a wife, where your importance ranks in relation to his duties. what he's not meant to discuss with you, like politics and matters at court and foreign relations. how you will speak to him. what to buy in the event that you become...unhappy. a nuisance.

("and she will," enji had muttered, briefly glancing up from the parchment on his desk to fix shouto with a look he didn't understand. "they always do.")

you don't meet until the royal wedding, when you're coming down the long aisle of the grand cathedral, dressed up in a swathe of silk and lace. a thin, gossamer veil hides you from him, but he can feel the ardor in your eyes, the intensity burning through the material. it doesn't seem real until your bare face is only a breath from his own, until he has to see the earnestness in your stare, too.

your kiss is simple and chaste, nothing spectacular, something that leaves his mind as soon as it's over. ever a todoroki, a hundred other things enter his mind, all regarding his now iron-laid obligations: it's vital he meet with advisor keigo to reiterate the plan to establish his authority among the council; general aizawa is in attendance to the wedding, and shouto has not yet received word on his opinion of the new king's ideas to modernize their armed forces; midoriya is somewhere, no doubt wanting to go over state affairs again.

truthfully, shouto doesn't spend long "celebrating". there's already too much that's required of him, hardly enough time to even scarf down a few bites of the banquet laid out before he's being chartered off into discussions on foreign relations and infrastructure development. maybe once or twice does he look back to check on you, chatting pleasantly with his mother and sister at the front of the great hall, and that's satisfying enough.

it's not until much later that he sees you again; freshly bathed and wearing something sheer and long and white, atop his bed.

or his marriage bed, he must remind himself.

enji didn't spend long going over consummation, with him or either of his brothers—natsuo, red-faced and annoyed at the very subject, always storming off, and touya had seemed well-aware of the process, at the time (back before he'd been ex-communicated). it had sounded simple: strip off your dress, get his cock out and into you, and only retreat once he was sure his seed had been spilled.

—so he's not exactly sure what to do or think or how to feel, when you're laid bare and reaching up to hold his face.

it's so startling that he sits back on his knees, to frown where he's looming over you.

you stare at him quietly, like you're expecting him to say something, and he only has a moment to wonder if this is you becoming an unhappy nuisance—what had been the answer, to solve this, anyway?—before you let out a soft laugh.

"c'mere," you tell him, sitting up, too, when he keeps his distance. "i want you to kiss me."

"i already have."

"yes," you laugh again, amusement glowing in your eyes, like the warmth off the fireplace, as you reach for the ties on his trousers. "but you're meant to do it again."

and up until then, he'd felt confident in his achievements, his executions; he'd managed a lot today, in one evening, and he had a lifetime to manage more. it was a good a start as any, he'd thought, but now—

shouto almost can't get the words out when he feels your hands ghosting up the inside of his shirt, nails tickling over his ribs. "a-am i?"

you wrap your arms around his waist in what could be a hug, scooting forward to look up at him with your chin against his chest. "yes," you smile and—it's familiar in a way, how touya would whenever he was teasing. "you're my husband, you're meant to kiss me whenever i want."

that—was not something his father had ever said, he was sure, and it was a too-rare exchange between his own parents. now that he thinks about it—and he does, then, because he's faced with the reality that he doesn't know as much as he should—he's not sure the former king and queen even sleep in the same room, much less the same bed.

much less hug and touch and even smile, the way you do now.

there's no argument he can make against it, aside from finding keigo to find his father to verify the truth to such a statement, and he's only meant to retreat from this bed on one condition.

and if this is what it takes to meet that—then shouto supposes he'll have to do it, for now. he's a brand new king, after all, and it would seem he still has much to learn.

#i just really like the idea of shouto being raised to be like #alright. meet with advisors. council meeting. get married. consummate. find general aizawa.#like it's just another stepping stone #to be married #and you are very much like oh 😊🩷 my husband 😊🩷#and he's SOOOO thrown by that #that's not how he was taught it would go LOL #and you want to hug and kiss and hold hands 🥺#if he spends too long in meetings you take the dinner from the royal dining table and march right into that room #to have dinner with your husband god damn it #LOL #and maybe he even asks his mom like 'is this right ???' and she's like #yeah 🥺🥺 it is 🥺🥺#and then he finds this weird odd unexpected happiness with you that he was never taught to expect 🥺#✿ thoughts: shouto #✿ willow writes

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goingmerryfics · 1 month

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Sitting in their lap while they’re not paying attention - w/ Law, Luffy, & Kid

Content: Gender neutral reader

Notes* Thinking about doing a NSFW part of this.. perhaps..

Part 1 2 3 4

Law

Sure, he’s not paying attention at the moment. But years of dealing with Penguin and Shachi’s antics have made him hyper aware to anyone’s bullshittery

Usually, as soon as anyone would start to inch towards him, he’d look up from whatever he was doing and warn the person to knock off whatever they were planning and pay attention

But this time, the combination of being exhausted from more lack of sleep than usual and being so passionate about the subject matter he was trying to relay to you, you managed to pull it off

Slowly, you inched towards him as he rambled on, lowered yourself into his lap, and he didn’t even flinch. All he did was move the research paper he was reading off of so he could still see it

You were seated comfortably, sideways across his lap, one arm around his shoulders to keep you steady. Success.

His free hand rests on your back as he continues. He doesn’t notice for a few seconds more, until he glances towards you for a moment

He freezes. His words cut off, and he starts to quickly go red

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You don’t see him complaining, though

He demands for you to get off of him and quite messing around, but he won’t make a move to push you off. Nor do you feel his hand move off of your back

You tell him to go on, that you’re still listening

He’s too tired to fight with you and, truthfully, he wants to call you on your bluff

So he continues to explain his medical research to you, stopping every now and then to quiz you and ask you something about what he’d just read, or about your own theories

It’s actually a very insightful conversation, and he’s kind of pissed about it

Why do you focus better when you’re being a menace?

Once he’s through though, he does start to gently shove you off

“Alright, get out. I have things to do.”

As soon as you’re gone he leans back and lets out a hefty sigh

You’ll kill him with your antics one day

Luffy

Don’t try it during a meal. Yeah, it’s one of the only times this ball of energy is seated and not bouncing around, but he will shove you away and continue stuffing his face

Best time to try this is when he’s settling down for the day, about to head off to bed

Especially because he’s even more cuddly than usual when he’s ready to sleep

He’ll be hanging out in the boy’s cabin when you enter, they’re all chatting and laughing about something from the last island they stopped at, and the only person that really pays attention when you head straight for Luffy’s lap is Zoro, because nothing gets past him

Sanji doesn’t notice until you’re already in his lap, and he cooes at you to come sit in his lap instead

“What? No! They chose me! Get your own person!”

Luffy’s arms extend and wrap around you a couple times, effectively trapping you there with him, no way to move your arms or anything lower than your shoulders. Not that you mind, of course

Luffy’s always been extra affectionate, whether his intention be platonically or romantically. Hugging, kissing people’s cheeks, holding hands, the works

He pulls you right up to his chest and continues the conversation, your face comfortably resting on him

You can feel the vibration of his chest when he laughs

He’s warm. It’s comforting

If you thought this was a short-term deal, you’d be wrong. He doesn’t want to let you go now that he has your comfort, and you’ll stay in his arms well into the night

At least he pulls up a blanket when he notices you starting to fall asleep

“Aw, already dozing off? But we were having so much fun!”

He doesn’t try to keep you awake, though. You fall asleep against his chest, and sleep peacefully into morning

Kid

There are only two ways you’re going to be able to do this

Either he is truly distracted, or you think he’s distracted and he notices, but he’s just amused to watch you do it

In the first scenario, he would be at his workstation, fixing up his arm. Making some adjustments after noticing that it’s getting a bit loose in places

As long as everything is going the way he needs it to- fixing something is difficult with one arm -he’ll be calm enough not to completely toss you for trying to distract him

Keep talking to him and he won’t notice. He can only focus on so much

You let him know that you brought him a snack and something to drink, and he grunts in response. Good, he’s got all his attention in one spot

You put the plate and the cup down somewhere that Kid will be able to reach it but not knock it over accidentally, and quickly slide into his lap while going off about some updates on what the crew is up to in his absence

He shifts where he needs to so he can keep working without you in the way, which ends up with you facing him, gripping his shoulders to keep you steady

The minute you have nothing more to say, he very suddenly starts to shout

“The hell do ya think you’re doing, idiot!?”

Hop off and run for your life, because he tosses his whole arm your way while blushing as bright as his hair

On the other hand, if you crawl into his lap while and he notices, he won’t speak a word but he’ll watch your every move

You think you’ve gotten away with it

You ramble on and on about whatever comes to mind, but short by a pair of large hands around your waist and his breath tickling your neck

You stumble over your words, blush rising to your cheeks

“Go on, you wanted my attention, right? I’m listening.”

He makes it a tradition that you have to come sit in his lap for your daily reports. he loves seeing your flustered face as you try to remember all the information you needed to tell him, directly to his stupid, smug face

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daze4all · 1 month

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Honkai Star Rail Imagine: 7 days a week of Yandere! Sugar Daddy's x Darling! Reader

You never intended to be involved with 7 men. You were just trying to make a living doing odd jobs. Whatever you could take, and they just wanted to take whatever you could offer them. Even if it was just that day…although they often forgot you weren’t just theirs to hold…

Maid for Hire! Reader x Dr. Ratio, Aventurine, Blade,

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

Next Set: Dan Heng, Sunday, Argenti, Jing Yuan TBA

Inspired by Seven Jung Kook) 'Seven (feat. Latto)'

Part 1: 1st Meeting, Domestic , Doting and Dating Second Part on smut to come...

Sugar Daddy 1. Dr. Ratio

Monday – Teacher! Ratio x Housekeeper/ Student! Reader

Monday starts off the week with lessons from Dr Ratio in return for chores and reward for being such a good student …

Domestic Life with Ratio hired as Housekeeper

Dr. Ratio had hired you on as housekeeper to clean his house, lab, and his library. For such a scholar his house got surprisingly messy. hH was constantly poring over scroll and forgotten tomes.

Dr Ratio was so invested in his studies that sometimes he even forgot to eat. SO it was your job to cook and prepares meal balanced on tray while he evaluated your cooking “

“Seven out ten. The taste is good, but the presentation is lacking. Try Harder next time” Ratio would say with barely a glance your way. Unknowing he was watching you over his book secretly.

Even on days that Dr. Ratio proclaimed the food you prepared was “urgh disgusting. One out of ten.” He would eat it without another complaint. Simply saying “Add more salt next time” while studying his books intently. Or “ I suppose it will do “No effort should be wasted”

Under his critique, your food did get better as did your cleaning skills as he detailed precisely how he wanted his old books preserved and cleaned carefully. It was detailed work to but satisfying when praised by Dr. Ratio for a “10 out 10”

2. Ratio Decides to Teach when he sees you Reading instead of Cleaning

You never had such an extensive education as the old novels in his library could provide. While cleaning the shelves you couldn’t help taking a peek. Soon you found yourself cross legged on floor drawn into the world of words before you knew it the duster forgotten.

Ratio stumbled upon you like this. The light hitting your face. He traced your face an open book as you ohhed and ahed at each twist and turn in the story.

He smiled wryly amused when you mouthed new words stumbling over the production. One word you messed up so badly he interrupted “It is stupendous?

Startled you snapped the book closer apologies spilling from you plushi lips “ I’ll get right back to work sir”

No Need in fact…how about you be my test subject student and Shall I teach you” Dr. Ratio had commanded and so your lessons with Dr. Ratio began.

3. Dr. Ratio Teaches You a Lesson in Attraction

Teaching was his joy and passion though he was so smart, and you could only marvel at his genius in silence when he rambled random theories to you.

Often he just wanted you as a sounding board “ A measure of what ignoramus, I may have to teach and pound sense into their brain.” he commented to you

After all, He firmly believed that “No matter how ignorant a pupil can soon be a peer once taught”

As embarrassment and desire burning through you as the very handsome man hovered over your shoulder to correct you.

“ No its like this let me show you” Dr Ratio without preamble would smoothly directed your shaking hands to write the right word. “Why are you shaking?”

His genius mind immediately deduced your attraction to him when you started behavior oddly around him.

After all, he wasn’t unaware of your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chest hip and lips with flushed blush.

After all he wasn’t unaware your fervent glances at him. your gaze lingering on his chests hip and lips with flushed blush.

He too watched you.

At first simply to observe as he couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the human body similar to the bust, he wore.

It was inevitable that working in close quarters and learning each other habits that you crossed the line…as he took so much pleasure in teaching and punishing you .

Then idly while teaching or reading he would follow the lines of your face to the back of your neck sloped over your study book.

“Perhaps a carrot and stick method would be a better lesson plan” Dr. Ratio would muse as you struggled through the practice books as he settled you once on his lap. His breaths in your ear and you blushed conscious of his closeness.

Tuesday- Escort! Reader x Sugar Daddy! Aventurine

Tuesday – Aventurine

With Aventurine you were the most casual and comfortable. He was businessman and knew a steal of deal when he saw it and he had to have you for day.

A gamble for charity he raised the stakes so high and won you for a date as the highest winning bet for the night. Dates that continued every Tuesday from then on.

Flirty banter was common for you two and soon you had charmed each other. His double hued hypnotic eyes and devil may care attitude and charisma easing as you stepped off the stage “Hello, friend happy to have such a lovely lady for the evening”

His false flirty lines promised this was just another business deal and a game to him. A friend you would fuck from time to time for fun. However he kept making than that.

His tasks ranged from keeping his penthouse tidy, to being his dress up doll, to keeping him entertained.

When he was tired. A domestic day of cooking dinner and fixing his bath. Other times there would be surprise present in the houses.

Often scandalous lingerie and slips for his eyes alone to greet him. Sometimes elegant costly gowns to wear out to a business party’s as his plus one. If not it was a party dress sparkly and skintight and showing skin only he could touch.

would be perched on his knee or crushed by his side at a casino or stately business dinner .

“My Lucky charm~” Aventurine would sing to his clients as he rolled the dice for yet another winning deal flashing a smile and pressing a kiss to the pulse of your neck.

Despite his flippant and teasing nature, he promised when going to sleazy parties “Don’t worry I’ll protect you. No one will dare mess with me here”

Aventurine was almost always a night owl keeping you up for partying or for pleasure in his bedroom. Despite intimately knowing your deal as a creditor he was the most possessive and took advantage of it the most.

Wednesday – Blade- Sex to Soothe the Mara & Memories

First Meeting with Blade: Kafka sets you guy’s Up

A good guy was too sweet for you it hurt but a bad boy was what you deserved and could turn the pain into pleasure.

It was simple with Blade. Lay back and let him break you. You did help clean up the base from time to time as a housekeeper. However, the role was simple to help Blade burn off some steam. Rough and possessive the most dangerous customer by far.

It had been like that since the first day you met him but funny enough unlike the other men he didn’t seek you out.

The idea wasn’t his. A gorgeous lady with a spider like coat weaved a web to capture the flower and delivered you to the beast called Blade. Honesty from her initial description you though he was cat you were cat sitting at first or you might to have taken the job.

“Help me, help take the edge off and distract him for bit will you dear?” She directed in a sweet tone. Sticky sweet and dangerous as honeyed poison.

“What the hell is this” demanded Blade seeing you a stranger all dolled up like a a bright flower in his bedroom. Weak and fragile and sure to break if he touched it.

“A present, Blade. So you stop hurting yourself during practice and occupy yourself with more pleasurable activites, have fun. Live a little!~” Kafka cooed as she pushed you into Blade’s room and locked the door to trap you both

Meeting his burning eyes you gulped nervously. This was one customer perhaps you shouldn’t have accepted, but the web was to addicting to squirm free.

Once he had a taste, he’d hunt you down you were sure of it, if you ever stopped. It was hard enough keeping him from consuming you whole during his sessions.

Side note Poly!Reader Background might be….:

-A maid for hire just looking to clean a house but get caught up with yandere men wanting her for more services that may or may not be implied on the site that she may or may not know about

Could also be Sugar Baby/Polymarous/Host/Rent a girlfriend/Housekeeper/Escort! Reader

- Seeking out the strongest men to renew your dying race as you were known to have very low birth rates

- Doing this to pay back a debt she has from her fallen planet.

- Possibly cursed by the Propagation or a Aeon of Lust Luxuria to constantly hunger for sex to live?

-Nymphomaniac or a person who just like sex with many men and that’s her lifestyle so why not make money off it lol

- Reader is a Succubus maybe and craves and needs many men’s seed for their male life Essence to live and cannot take from one too often or he dies from having too much

Inspired by the Genshin Version written by liljojo genshin sugar daddies

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ghostaholics · 9 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒

➸ PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader (established relationship) ➸ WARNING(S): [ 18+ ] body shots; oral (receiving); ruined orgasm; basically PWP with slight BDSM (disciplinary action) ➸ SUMMARY: Simon teaches you a very important lesson about holding still – extended version of this. ➸ A/N: Thank you to @mvtthewmurdvck who lets me bitch about anything and everything including this and offered kind words when I certainly lost faith in the whole thing. ➸ WORD COUNT: 2.2k

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄. Pilfered from his not-so-secret stash and running low with about a quarter left; the contents slosh around in their bottle-shaped confinement as he stalks into the room with a heavy hand swallowing around the widest circumference of the glass.

Good memories, usually. Like the first time he’d brandished his titanium pocket flask for you to take a sip. You’d scrunched your nose, feigning disapproval of the drink. And he'd said – cheeky as always – with a low-timbered response:

"Don't worry. The taste of your cunt's still my favourite."

But now, there’s no trace of that Simon anywhere to be seen. His face is entirely devoid of the amusement he already so rarely expressed. Stone-rigid. Unimpressed. Disappointed – seems like – and certainly not in the mood for any games.

❝ 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐒 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇? ❞

It's a red-hot brand searing the edges of your memory (charred, ash-coated, lined by the cinders of a poor attempt on your part that had gone up into flickering embers).

See, the brain remembers it well.

Your cunt, too: the walls hugging his cock, full of his cum – excessively so, nearly bursting with it after he'd buried himself to the hilt and stayed inside just to plug your snug little hole, ensuring that none of it would dribble out after he’d fucked you senseless. He’d given you plenty, more than enough. And it’d been generous of Simon. A gift, really, considering the enormity of the initial request.

Make me yours?

He’d only had one thing to say, just a simple favour in return for doing this, for indulging you. His voice had been hoarse, sandpaper-rough from overuse – your fault entirely – eroded away after being subjected to a whole night's worth of groaning against the shell of your ear and telling you just how fucking good you felt before you'd milked him for everything he was worth with your greedy, pulsing self.

Keep it all in then.

You’d done your best not to clench, but stretched taut around the girth of his cock like that, you'd just wanted to readjust. Not a lot. But the position you'd been in wasn't the most conducive one for this. And you’d shifted – barely, practically inconsequential (or so you’d thought) – to where you wouldn’t have even thought it’d matter except—

It had.

Pushed some of it out, that is. A stream of cum trickling down onto an area of the duvet, staining it – the unfortunate aftermath of your decision to move.

Thas’ a shame. Thought you wanted it. Guess I was wrong.

Simon comes to a stop at the foot of the bed where you're sitting; he towers over you – an intimidating, subduing presence without even having to try. "Had to wash the sheets because you couldn't keep it all in.”

You blink in surprise as your mouth parts slightly in what you're sure must be a dumbfounded expression. Of course, this is nothing new. You were there. Responsible for the incident, apparently. And though it wasn't necessarily your fault, you still feel the need to explain that it was due to factors beyond your control. “There was so much—” (As if it'll help your case.)

But he's never cared much for excuses.

“How ‘m I supposed to finish inside you knowing that you’re just going to waste it?” he asks. It's a rhetorical question, not one that actually requires an answer.

Your chin tips down in a silent apology. There's something heavy sitting in your chest; remorse, you think.

He grips your jaw in his hand, forces you to look at him. “Yeah, love. We’ll fix that. Gonna teach you how to be grateful, how to understand the value in the things I give to you."

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒.

He makes you tell him your colors.

You do.

He asks if you know what you’re supposed to get out of this.

You answer that he’s probably going to have to wash the sheets again before you can learn whatever lesson he’s trying to impose on you.

Yeah, that earns you a sharp pinch to the hip.

That massive body of his sinks to the floor, one leg bending down before the other joins it, rough carpet cutting into his knees, undoubtedly. Then, his fingers curl around your legs, blunt digits sinking in – ten identical divots pressed into the flesh. He leaves light indentations with his palms spanning along the sides of your thighs to spread you open while his elbows anchor into the mattress.

Heat blooms across your skin, every surface that he touches and even in the places that he doesn't – white-hot, intentional (and he never does anything without purpose); it sparks a fever that fans out, unfurls. There's no part of you left unaffected. You're growing warmer by a few degrees. Doesn't sound like much, but it's enough to make a noticeable difference if the beads of sweat gathering at the back of your neck are any indication.

And Simon lets out a soft scoff. Cocky. Like he knew what was waiting for him—

You're soaked, absolutely drenched. Cotton panties, sticky –saturated beyond belief. If you looked there yourself, you wouldn't be surprised to find a damp patch on the fabric steadily growing in size.

He's such a sight, too: the contour of his muscles shifting and rippling, all brawn and power – his presence speaking volumes about just who holds the cards right now, undeniably the one in control here; the visual of his stature and build emphasize that. And authority bleeding from the width of his shoulders if not spelled out by his words alone.

"Haven't even touched you, and you're already dripping," he murmurs. "Why?"

Your mouth trips and stutters over your own words the same way your heart trips and stutters over his. "Because you—y-you're..."

His thumbs hook into your panties, slowly peels them away – not an easy feat, damn things are clinging to your cunt – before dragging them down your legs. "Say it, sweetheart. What do you think I'm gonna do to you?"

And your mind is racing, jumping too many steps ahead. "You're going to eat me out?"

Simon stuffs his panties in his back pocket for safekeeping. A souvenir, since there won't be much use for them now. "I'm gonna eat you out," he affirms.

"Mhm, yeah. Want your mouth on me."

"Whether or not you come depends entirely on if I feel like letting you."

"Oh—"

"Spill a single drop, and you don't come tonight," he says, never one to draw out the details. His instructions are concise, uncomplicated. Then, further inquiry. "We clear?"

"Yeah..." you say with a shaky breath before trying to regain some semblance of composure. "Yes."

"Good girl," he purrs low, almost a growl – though you're not quite certain that you deserve the praise yet.

He’s answering to a shrine, beckoned forward by the invitation of a wet cunt and the promise of a taste of your slick. He pauses, takes a brief moment to admire it in his own way, almost reverent as he takes in how your arousal’s smeared everywhere from your folds to your inner thighs (all for him, because of him – isn’t that right?).

But make no mistake, there’s absolutely nothing respectful about the act that comes next. Simon leans, forces his shoulders to hold you open, before he bows his head and he licks; it’s a hungry tongue lapping at the slit, everything terribly hot and wet – the sensation makes you jolt upon first contact because it's too much. So, so much.

And at the same time, not enough.

The feeling spikes along the circuit running from your head to your toes – empty thoughts save for the white static that buzzes in the hollow of your skull, a tingling, prickling paresthesia-sort-of-thing that usually accompanies the high of an orgasm. Except, the irony’s not lost on you in this instance; he’s hardly even begun to wreak havoc on your cunt yet.

Currents zip down your spine, down, further down, everything else collateral damage. No part of you is spared by the overwhelming fervor responsible for it – the initial onslaught of his mouth laying waste at the spread of your entrance.

Every single nerve-ending is on-edge, trigger-sensitive as he sucks, and kisses, and fuck are his groans heavy, bone-deep, the rumble of a thunderstorm gathering in his chest. They radiate from the point of origin where your core’s suffering, reverberating tremors that diffuse out to the rest of you. It makes your skin thrum like a live wire. There’s no hope of staying in a fixed position if he keeps this up. How could you? The odds are zero to none. It isn’t feasible.

You forget your place, can't help but squirm within his iron grip.

Then, Simon; a severe reprimand— "Watch it," he rasps. It’s a lull amidst the incursion, an unplanned interlude. Temporary reprieve (barely) so he can scold you for your inability to follow his instructions.

A low whimper leaves your throat. That's completely out of the question, beyond what you're currently capable of. Easier said than done. "I'm trying—"

"Then try harder."

Despite how weighed down your eyelids feel, you manage to guide your laden gaze south, let it roam over your stomach. The dark, amber liquid in your navel sways; it rocks, sloshes with the tide, a consequence born from the pull and heave of your jarring movements. Exercise caution. This is delicate work – a balancing act. Those thoughts are cloudy.

Your mind is fuzzy, thick, a drunken haze. Buzzed, lightheaded. And everything's off-kilter. But you haven't had a single drop of alcohol. None at all. Couldn’t, because everything's still sitting in your navel right there like it’s supposed to.

Simon dips his head back between your legs, continues to seal his mouth over you, flattening his tongue to lick thick stripes from your entrance to your clit. He doesn't let up, only bringing his face closer, following that same path again and again and again – agonizing – until you're trembling. The noises he’s making, something debauched and bottomless – one wet groan after the other. This isn't for you. It's for him, that much is clear.

You plead anyways, hoping he'll grant you an amnesty that you haven't earned in the least bit, "Need you inside. Anything, just—"

"Sure you can handle it?"

Breathless when you say, "Ah, yeah..."

"We'll see about that," Simon murmurs.

He doesn't believe you.

To be fair, you’re not so sure you do either.

But he's courteous, slips one finger in and lets you clamp around him. And your cunt flutters, welcomes the feeling.

You release a soft moan. “Want more, Si. Feels good."

His face turns to the side, wet nose and chin grazing along your thigh to spread the slick in more places that haven't been drenched yet. Then he bites. Gentle. An admonishment. Nothing serious about it though: scraping, the light pressure of teeth sinking into the skin as he pulls with his mouth.

You jerk suddenly before catching yourself.

"Don't be fuckin' greedy. You'll take what I give you, and you'll thank me for it." He's curt, perfunctory. No delay as he offers up his two fingers to your mouth. The expectation is clear. “Suck.” And he's waiting.

You wrap your lips around them, swallowing him down, not one to squander an opportunity sitting in front of you, right? You understand that now.

“So tell me how good you taste.”

"I-um, taste good—"

"Yeah, you fuckin' do."

"Thank you."

“Mhm.”

You can't see it, but you can hear it: the low clinking of a belt being unbuckled, the sound of a zipper being undone. Clinking metal and rustling denim being tampered with somewhere below your line of sight as he reaches down, almost like he— is he… oh.

Most of his body's obscured by the edge of the bed, but everything from the chest up is still visible. Simon's shoulder is bobbing slightly, arm pumping back and forth in a rhythmic motion and fuck, he's getting himself off to this.

That sends another spark of arousal to your core, makes you gush. It adds to the mess coating his jaw, his chin, his lips. You whimper out something – broken syllables – his name, maybe. You’re not entirely sure.

God, you’re almost there. So close. Wound up tight, hips rolling against his mouth, chasing his tongue—

Until he stops entirely. No contact. Simon pulls away in such a rush that you gasp, startled.

"Look at that." Accusatory.

It's a trail of liquor dribbling over the curve of your stomach, down your side in small rivulets. There are streaks pooling onto the sheets underneath you. Tragic.

(Couldn't help yourself, huh?)

Guilty as charged.

Shit.

"What'd I say – told you to hold still, yeah?"

And even though you had a feeling it would happen, you still have the nerve to act surprised at the result. "Fuck," you whine pathetically. "Was so close—"

"We're starting over. Don't care if it takes us all night, we're gonna keep at this 'til you get it right or you use up the rest of the whiskey," he says, readying himself to deposit another pour of alcohol into your navel. Simon lifts his shoulder in a light shrug like he can't be bothered about the final outcome. "Better pray that it works out before the bottle’s empty. Won't let you finish otherwise, sweetheart. Understand?"

#honestly i got so lazy towards the end but that is not my problem #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw 2 #call of duty smuty #ghost cod

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cupids-chamber · 1 year

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KISSING Azul's beauty marks, leaving light peppermint kisses on Malleus's horns, ruffling Leona's hair, petting him, leaving small kisses on each of his ears, Kissing Silver, to wake him up...

GENDER NEUTRAL READER A/N: Is Silver's part, just me showing my inner Silver simp? Nooo-

Leona was settled on your lap, as you fiddled around with his hair.. it would have bothered Leona, but he let you as you pleased, your touch was rather comforting, and stress relieving. It felt as though all his problems would disappear, when he's with you like this.. The soft praises you whisper makes him all soft and gushy inside, a feeling he wasn't quite familiar with.. he hoped you didn't notice.. Leona disliked looking weak.. especially to you.. He'd be beyond embarrassed if you told him you noticed his little grin, and the way his tail would move in excitement, while you pet him.

It was a rather amusing sight, Leona's tail moving around in excitement and his ears perking up and moved ever so slightly, rhythm in sync with all your movements, touches, and compliments. Your praise was the biggest ego booster for this lion.

Leona closed his eyes for a bit, trying to sleep. The way your hands moved, ruffling his hair, every soft touch lulling him to sleep. Yet his senses overloaded, the moment you leaned down, and pressed two soft kisses on his ears, the feeling lingered, as he felt his ears tingle with heat.. He was flustered.. And if that wasn't enough, his tail started wagging aggressively.. He was sure he could hear you giggling right about now.. "What are you laughing at herbivore!"

You entered the room, Azul was working on some sort of paperwork, as always.. Nothing out of the usual.. but your precious octopus, has been rather busy lately.. you were afraid he was overworking himself, It was at this point that Azul noticed your presence, as he turned to smile at you, flashing you a rather tired grin. You sighed, knowing full well he wasn't planning to rest anytime soon.. "How was your day today love?" Azul asked, his voice was less energetic then usual, "It was good.. I suppose.. How about you?" you asked, as you made your way towards him, carefully sitting on his lap, "Your not overworking yourself, are you?" you asked..

"Of course not!" he said, focusing his attention on you, as he slowly moved his arms around your waist, making sure you were comfortable in the position you were in. "hmm, but you should get some rest, K?" you carefully grabbed his face, pulling it towards you, you watched as his face tinted red ever so slightly, as he hesitated to answer.. He never liked lying to you, nor did he enjoy making false promises to you.. "Fine.." Azul complied with a sigh.

"Do you promise?" you asked, moving a tad bit closure, as your eyes stared straight into his. Causing him to grow slightly nervous. He stuttered ever so slightly, no matter how long the two of you were together, he could never grow completely used to the closeness between you two.. "I-i promise"

You grinned, as he finally complied to your words, you pulled him closer leaning in, and just before your lips touched, you leaned down and kissed his beauty mark. "See you later tonight!" you winked as you left a very flustered and tired octopus in his office.. 'What am I going to do with you' Azul thought, as the door finally closed.

You were settled on Malleus's lap, as he rambled on and on, about his favorite subject.. Gargoyles! You were half mindedly listening, focusing more on fiddling around with his hair, admiring his features.. After all, it's not always you get to have such a close up view of the fae prince.. though if you asked you would be able too..

Malleus, went on to explain some random facts about Gargoyles in, in-depth detail. You hummed at everything he said, making sure he didn't feel ignored, when you had an idea.. "Malleus what's your favorite Gargoyle again?" you asked, the question was rather controversial, you know this conversation wouldn't end any time soon.. but.. you had an idea! "Well I quite really have a Gargoyle I favor.. but —" .. He continued on and on about the subject, when you suddenly started rubbing his horns.

Malleus got a bit flustered, the action was rather unexpected, he tripped over his words ever so slightly, if you looked down, you could see just how red the man was. You proceeded to take things up a notch' by coming a bit closer, and leaving soft lingering kisses on his horns. An action, that is guaranteed to shut your poor lover up..

When you were finished with messing with your prince, you lowered yourself down to his level, and gave him a big hug. "Malleus?" you poked him in the cheek.. The man looked stunned and flustered.. 'I guess he's still processing things..' you thought, as you giggled..

The two of you were in your early stages of a relationship, and needless to say your lover is quite easily flustered by your actions.

Lilia had told you that he couldn't find Silver, the two of you had gotten together a couple months ago, and Lilia suggested that maybe you should go out and find Silver, since you seemed to know his favorite sleeping spots well. Somehow that convinced you to go and look for Silver by yourself.

Walking around the forests of NRC, you found Silver sound asleep, leaning ever so comfortably on the tree. 'He looks so beautiful'.. He looked very comfortable.. You almost forgot why you were here! You were supposed to wake Silver up! Though you could have just simply nudged him and called out for him.. you had other ideas... Comfortably sitting beside Silver, you leaned in.. and for a second you paused with your movements. Taking in his features.. 'He looked lovely' you nudged your head, mumbling under your breath to focus.

You leaned in and gave Silver a kiss, Silver was quite sensitive to movement, that seemed foreign.. especially in his sleep. It didn't take long for him to carefully open his eyes, as he made eye contact with you.. "It's time to wake up love.."

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weirdrandomtina · 5 months

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Poppy character development appreciation post!

In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.

When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)

"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.

Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"

In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"

When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.

When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.

At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.

Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.

The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!

BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.

Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:

#queen poppy #trolls band together #broppy #character development #trolls 3 #trolls poppy #dreamworks trolls #appreciation post

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bellaveux · 11 months

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okay but wht if instead of a cheerful reader, theyre serious, strict, and quiet. AND WANDA WOULD BE GOLDEN RETRIEVER TYPE

but oh boy, behind the walls wanda's making reader making noises.

imagine if this is professor! wanda x college student reader too :>

AFTER CLASS | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: your professor, wanda, asks you to stay behind after class.

content warnings: minors dni! professor!wanda maximoff x student!reader, college au, unspecified age gap, smut!; semi public sex, oral and fingering (r! receiving), multiple orgasms (?), wanda being horny

word count: 3.3k

note: golden retriever gf wanda x black cat!reader im gonna cry (it would also fit the other way around but thinking about wanda being a golden retriever gf is so cute !! )

“Please, meet me after class. I have something important to discuss.”

It was a simple statement — one that you have heard millions of times from this specific professor, who also happened to be your lover. Wanda had developed a somewhat customary routine of asking you, her diligent student and girlfriend, to remain behind after class. The gesture had become so familiar that it had almost taken on an air of expected routine. Wanda's expressive eyes, frequently framed by her glasses, would glint with a mixture of affection and anticipation, while her lips, adorned with a subtle smile, conveyed a tender invitation.

And while you loved being with her, you, ever the dedicated student, found yourself caught in a tug-of-war between your commitment to her academic responsibilities and the allure of being in the presence of your girlfriend. It had become a delicate balancing act, a hesitant dance between your desire to excel in your studies and the yearning to cherish the moments spent with Wanda. Not to mention, she’d often keep you from going to your next class just because her desires for you often left your legs wobbly and your body tired and sleepy, so you’d spend the rest of the day with her, nap in her office for a bit, then she’d let you go to go to your dorm or take you home with her which was what would usually happen.

Sitting in the classroom, you found yourself caught in a tantalizing dichotomy. As your eyes flickered between the pages of your notebook and Wanda, your alluring professor, frustration simmered within you. Another problem. The struggle to concentrate on the subject matter intensified as Wanda commanded the room's attention with effortless grace. Dressed in a form-fitting suit that accentuated her curves and exuded confidence, Wanda possessed an undeniable magnetism that made it near impossible for you to focus on anything else. She always teased you, knowing very well how much you liked it when she left her shirt unbuttoned at the top, only just a hint of her cleavage showing just for you to see. The way Wanda's tailored blazer hugged her slender frame, subtly revealing her silhouette, was both a distraction and a temptation. Your gaze would inadvertently drift from your notes, drawn to the way Wanda's perfectly pressed trousers elongated her legs, highlighting their elegant contours.

With each captivating gesture and poised movement, Wanda effortlessly commanded the attention of the room, her voice carrying an air of intellectual allure. Your heart raced as you observed the subtle nuances of Wanda's expressions, your mind entangled in a constant battle between admiration and yearning.

And it was just as entertaining to Wanda. She loved the way your eyes looked when you stared at her. In every lecture, every discussion, Wanda could feel your eyes, a gaze filled with a mixture of love and curiosity. It delighted her to no end, a secret amusement that sparked joy within her heart. The way your gaze lingered on her, studying her every movement and expression, whispered secrets that words could not convey. It was an intoxicating sensation, the feeling of being the center of someone's world.

And you were quiet; always sitting poised at your desk, diligently taking notes as she spoke, your demeanor radiating an air of reserved seriousness. Your eyes either scanned the pages of your textbook or listened intently with unwavering focus, your every movement exuding a quiet you. You existed as a paradoxical enigma—a reserved, strict, and quiet student whose essence exuded an understated magnetism.

Yet, behind closed doors, Wanda, your passionate and daring lover, held the key to unlocking the dormant passions within you. She was quite the expert in breaking that calm facade of yours. With an intimate understanding of your hidden depths, Wanda possessed the power to awaken the dormant embers, igniting a fiery passion that raged between the two of you. It was in these moments of seclusion that your reserved nature was shed, revealing a vulnerability that echoed through every delicious gasp and moan that escaped your lips.

There were times when Wanda would purposely lock eyes with you, a playful challenge passing between the two of you. In those moments, a silent dialogue unfolded, a dance of shared fascination and unspoken desires. It was a dance that brought a sparkle to Wanda's eyes and quite adorable flush to your cheeks, an unspoken connection that bound you together.

While she had you in her class, she always wished for time to go faster, leading up to the moment when she’d have you alone, all to herself, for her to love you without any interruptions. She thought about you every second of class, missing your touch, your skin, your lips. You’d let her, right? You always do. Because it was her asking.

As the final words of Wanda's lecture echoed in the classroom, your gaze would wander towards the clock, mindful of the ticking seconds that drew you closer to your next class. The familiar request to stay behind reverberated in your ears, accompanied by a soft flutter in your heart. A part of you longed to linger, to bask in the warmth of Wanda's company, to have whispered conversations, to kiss and make love.

“(Y/n). My office,” she said firmly, taking some papers off of her desk before walking through the door of her private workroom.

It was a covert demand, a subtle plea to rendezvous away from prying eyes, to indulge in stolen moments of intimacy.

As the room gradually emptied, Wanda's eyes never wavered from your form, tracing the delicate curves of your face, the softness of your lips, and the sparkle in your eyes as packed your books and papers into your bag. Each passing moment intensified the desire that lay hidden between the two of you, adding a subtle thrill to your secret tryst. Finally, the last student departed, leaving the room bathed in an intimate hush. Wanda's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper as she beckoned you closer, your gazes locking in a knowing exchange.

A conflicted sigh fell from your lips as you stood from your seat and made your way over to where Wanda held the door to her office open for you, watching the sexy sway of your hips as you walked. She had to fight to stop herself from grabbing you, pushing you against a wall, then having her way with you. With practiced composure, Wanda maintained an outward appearance of professionalism, her gaze lingering on you as you stepped inside. But beneath the facade, her heart quickened with anticipation, knowing that she was finally alone with you.

She shut the door and turned around to face you, leaning against it as she watched you.

“What did you want to discuss, professor?” you asked, glancing up at the clock above her window.

You stood in the intimate sanctuary of Wanda's office, the air thick with anticipation and an undercurrent of shared desire. The room, adorned with shelves of books and mementos of scholarly pursuits, seemed to come alive as your presence filled the space. Time seemed to slow, suspended in the charged moment, as your eyes took in every detail, waiting for your girlfriend to reply to your question.

With a bated breath, you turned around, your heart skipping a beat at the sight that awaited you.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was Wanda, a radiant smile adorning her face. The soft light filtering through the window illuminated her features, casting a warm glow upon her. In that instant, time stood still once again, encapsulating the profound affection that emanated from Wanda's loving gaze.

And at that moment, you realized what was coming next.

“Wanda…”

Wanda pushed herself off of the door and unbuttoned her suit jacket before walking towards you and placing her hands on your hips, “Stay. Please?”

“Wanda, I have to get to my next class.”

“No, no, no. Stay,” she pleaded, leaning forward to litter gentle kisses along your jaw down to the side of your neck. “Please, stay. I want you.”

You kept your hands at her shoulders, not sure whether you wanted to push her away or keep her close as she kissed your skin in a way that made your knees go weak.

“No, Wanda—“

“Look, I’ll send an email or a note, or something. I’ll make up some excuse,” she said quickly, shooting you with those puppy eyes that always seemed to get you to agree to whatever she was saying. “Please, baby. I’ll be quick, promise. I’ve been thinking about you all morning.”

And it worked.

You stood before her, your expression a tapestry of conflicted emotions. A sigh escaped your lips once more, a breath laden with a blend of disbelief and surrender. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment that you were about to relinquish control, bending the rules of convention to fulfill Wanda's desire. As you met Wanda's gaze, your eyes betrayed a flicker of disbelief, an incredulous awe that danced within their depths. It was as if the gravity of the moment, the realization that you were about to give in to Wanda's request, weighed upon you like a beautiful burden.

Wanda, on the other hand, couldn't contain her excitement, a radiant joy that illuminated her entire being. The corners of her lips curled upward, revealing a playful and endearing smile. Her eyes sparkled with childlike enthusiasm, mirroring the delight that bubbled within her. Your decision to stay, to sacrifice another class just to be in Wanda's presence, filled her heart with warmth and tenderness.

You glared at her, mumbling softly enough for her to hear, “Don’t rip anything.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Wanda, her eyes sparkling with delight, couldn't help but break into a warm and affectionate smile as she beheld your commitment to grant her deepest desires. With a tender grace, Wanda leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you. Her lips met yours, sighing in relief as you moaned into her mouth.

In the delicate space between your lips, Wanda felt an electric surge of desire coursing through her veins. It wasn’t just the touch of your lips that sparked a radiant smile upon Wanda's face; it was the intoxicating sound that escaped from your mouth, blending seamlessly against her tongue.

You, known for your reserved nature and quiet demeanor, were a symphony of contradictions in that moment. The gentle melody of your moans reverberated against Wanda's lips, a harmonious composition that stirred a wellspring of emotions within both of you. Each sweet, muffled sound that escaped your throat spoke volumes, revealing a side of you that had long been kept hidden from the world. As Wanda smiled into the kiss, she marveled at the power she held over your inhibitions. The way your body trembled against hers, the way your moans seamlessly merged with the shared breaths, all spoke of profound trust and surrender. It was an exquisite revelation, an invitation into the depths of your desires.

In that stolen moment, Wanda tasted not only the sweetness of your lips but also the vulnerability and passion that emanated from within her. Your moans, once silenced in the shadows of your reserved nature, now spilled forth with unbridled intensity. The sounds echoed with a mixture of pleasure, longing, and the liberation of self-expression.

But, soon, Wanda remembered she wasn’t in the confines of her home, where you could be as loud as she wanted. The two of you were still in her office, a private room within her lecture hall — a room that was definitely not soundproof.

Wanda sighed, whispering against your lips, “I want to taste you.”

You almost felt lightheaded with the way she began to kiss you behind your ear, down to the curve of your neck, and her hands sneaking their way under your shirt and underneath your skirt, pulling them up roughly. Wanda pushed you with her body until your backside hit the front of her desk, groaning when you clawed at her jacket.

“Try to stay quiet for me, baby,” she said, her hands playing at the hem of your skirt. “Okay?”

You nodded quickly, reaching up to put a hand on her hair, tugging at it lightly just the way she likes it, “Yeah.”

Wanda smiled once again and gave you another searing kiss before she slowly made her way down to her knees. She knelt, her face leveled with your skirt as she pushed your hips against the desk, holding you still. After a moment of enjoying the way you gripped onto her hair lightly even when she hadn’t began doing anything yet, Wanda let her hands run along the back of your soft thighs, trailing them upwards to your ass as she hooked your lace panties on her thumbs. She also remembered her promise, fighting the urge to rip your panties right off of you.

“Did you dress up all pretty for me, baby?” She smiled against the fabric of your skirt, slow hands pulling your underwear off, then stuffing them into her back pocket for safekeeping.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster out as you stared down at Wanda.

“Of course, you did,” she looked up at you with a sly smile. “Makes it so easy for me to fuck you.”

Her fingers slip through your folds softly, coating them with your slick. She made you watch as she brought her fingers up to her lips, letting her mouth wrap around her own digits, groaning at the taste of you on her tongue. And you could see it — how wet you were. It dripped along her rings, down the back of her hand, and to the watch on her wrist.

Before you could even protest, Wanda’s head disappeared under your skirt, eyes finally meeting the gorgeous sight of your beautiful cunt. She didn’t know if it was just because she was in love with you, but she had never seen a prettier pussy. Your scent filled her nostrils each second she came closer, drawing her in like a moth to a flame, up until she pressed a gentle kiss on your clit. Her hands gripped your thighs tightly as she continued to kiss your pussy, before her tongue darted out to lick your slick from your entrance all the way up to your clit.

“Fuck…” Wanda breathed to herself, moaning at your warmth and sweetness. God, you tasted so good.

You trembled against her as she worked her tongue on your pussy, clasping a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. Wanda hummed against your clit, vibrations making you stutter slightly as she listened to you struggle to keep quiet. Her hands gripped your thighs open as she continued to delve deeper over your most sensitive parts.

After a moment, Wanda eased a finger into you, mouth moving to work over your sensitive clit as she curled her finger against your walls. You gasped when she did so, hips squirming against her desk.

“W-Wanda,” you breathed out quietly, your hand messing up her hair as you tugged on it. “I-I’m close…”

Your girlfriend couldn’t help but smirk against you, listening to the way you whispered while her fingers and your wet cunt made the loudest squelches that sounded throughout the room. She twisted her finger in and out of you; pumping, and pumping, and pumping… wrapping her mouth around your clit and sucked hard.

Your body went rigid as she fingered you faster, as she sucked on you harder — the licking and sucking paired with the ridiculously lewd wet noises coming from her was driving you closer and closer to the edge. Humming a deep moan, Wanda slid in a second finger, fucking you thoroughly with her digits. You let out a strangled moan, bringing your other hand down to her head, and began slowly bucking yourself into her mouth; orgasm building in the pit of your stomach as she fucked you.

“W-Wandaa…” you whined, still trying your best to stay quiet.

Every breathy moan and whimper that came from your lips shot straight towards Wanda’s own heat, knowing very well that no one else but her could hear you like this.

She pumped her fingers in and out of you, building and building and building up closer to your orgasm until the band that held you together finally snapped, causing you to bring one hand up from Wanda’s hair to clasp it over your mouth. You muffled your loudest moan as best as you could while Wanda helped you ride your orgasm out, pulling away from your clit after giving it a gentle kiss that made your legs stutter. Wanda kept her fingers inside of you as she stood from her knees, kissing up your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your neck, then lastly meeting your lips. You moaned into her mouth, tasting yourself on her tongue.

Before you could even pull away, Wanda slowly began to pump her fingers into you once again. She used her mouth to muffle your moans along with hers as your hands clawed at her back. Wanda didn’t stop, continuing to finger you until you couldn’t take it anymore. Even after riding out your orgasm, you began to squirm underneath her, desperately trying to shut your legs.

Every part of you was so sensitive and Wanda only sought out more.

Your jaw went slack as you tried your best to keep kissing her, but you couldn’t help but keep your mouth open to let out silent moans as she fucked her fingers into you, “W-Wanda, please—I’m gonna cum again—“

Wanda smiled wickedly, “Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and give me another one, baby?”

Your second orgasm hit like a freight train. Wanda used her free hand to clasp her palm over your mouth, muffling the scream that you were about to let out. Your body trembled against hers, arching your back as you continued to shake.

Wanda held you close, creating a cocoon of safety and warmth as you trembled in her arms. With whispered tenderness, Wanda's voice caressed your ear, a soft symphony of soothing words that washed over you like a balm. In the hushed tones of her whispers, she wove a tapestry of affectionate reassurances as you calmed down from your high, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck, catching your breath. Fingertips brushed tenderly against the nape of your neck, soothing the frayed edges of your being.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Wanda whispered, holding you close against her.

“You’re insufferable,” you say, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile.

“You love me.”

In the quiet intimacy of the space you shared, Wanda, the professor who held both authority and affection in her gaze, leaned in closer to you. The air between you crackled with anticipation, a delicate dance of playful tenderness. With a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Wanda's eyes locked onto yours, capturing your attention.

Wanda kissed you on the lips tenderly, humming softly against your mouth. It held the delicate balance of tenderness and playfulness, conveying a profound depth of affection. The kiss lingered, even long after she pulled away, the hint of her taste resting on your lips. She smiled down at you, hands carefully caressing your waist, keeping you close.

“Now, about those grades,” she said lightheartedly.

In return, you scoffed and slapped her shoulder playfully, rolling your eyes at the statement, “You’re so annoying.”

“I’m kidding,” Wanda smiled and pecked your lips again. “How about dinner later? After your classes, of course.”

You, with your quiet and reserved nature often concealing the depth of your emotions, met Wanda's gaze with a knowing smile. It was a smile that held a myriad of secrets and unspoken truths, a silent affirmation of the connection that had blossomed between the two of you.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, a delicate dance of vulnerability and understanding. It was a smile that spoke volumes—a gentle acknowledgment of the unspoken desires. In that knowing smile, Wanda found solace, reassured that her invitation had been met with reciprocation.

— navigation!

#bellaveux writes!#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #elizabeth olsen #marvel #elizabeth olsen x reader

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scribblesofagoonerr · 4 days

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Never Felt A Love Like This Before

The second part of the small bump mini fic series is out now!

pairings: leah williamson x reader

summary: its' been a long few exhausting months but finally being able to meet your baby girl was worth it in the end.

"Let me take that from you, love," Your wife insisted, rushing to take the heavy load off your hands.

"I'm fine, Le," You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, you were of course now well accustomed to your wifes' overprotective nature by now. "I'm not made of glass, you know," you joked with her.

The final trimsester of your pregnancy was a time of both excitement and apprehension for both you and your wife, more so you also to deal with your wifes' need to be stubbornly overprotective of you even attempting to lift anything rometely heavy around the house.

You knew her concern was only coming from a good place though, her overprotective nature was down to the fact it had been a long nine months and she didn't wasn't about to let anything jepordizing the health of your unborn daughter or yourself.

You realized a few months it was easier to just suck it up and agree with your wifes' silly overprectiveness, it weren't that bad to deal with.

"It won't be long until we meet you, baby Gooner," Leah bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on your very pregnant belly before she peered up to look at you with loving eyes.

You both made the joint decision to find out the gender of your baby, but it was only both of your families, a few friends and of course your wife's team mates that new that you would be having a baby girl.

Leah especially was thrilled with the idea of having a daughter to hopefully follow in her footsteps, no matter how much you've tried to tell her that they might not even like football.

Your wife weren't having any of it.

"What if she wanted to be a Spurs fan instead?" You asked with the purpose of trying to wind your wife up.

Leahs' sweet smile is quick to turn into a menacing scowl, "Over my dead body will my daughter support Tottenham," she scoffed, like words were venemous.

You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh in amusement for your wifes' sudden change of mood, the discussion of different footballs team was always a sure subject with Leah if any team other than Arsenal was mentioned.

"Listen here, baby Gooner," Leah spoke directly to your belly, which made you giggle in amusement. "You have Arsenal running through your blood, your a Gooner through and through," she continued to speak to your unborn daughter, which always got the same reaction that you always got, a handful of kicks' as soon as your baby heard Leahs' voice.

"I think she definitely took notice of your words," You joked with your wife playfully, smiling at the connection that your wife and daughter already had. "The way she is kicking, I wouldn't be surprised if she does decide to become a footballer though," You commented.

"That's my girl," Leah grinned and placed a gentle kiss on your exposed stomach, which yet again earned another few excitedable kicks from your baby girl inside of you. "See? Baby Gooner, through and through," She added.

At first the nickname baby Gooner had been a silly nod to Leahs' persuasion for your unborn daughter to become an Arsenal fan just like her Mummy, however, as soon as the rest of your wifes' team mates heard it, they were all quick to cotton on calling the baby that name and it had just stuck ever since then.

You'd both decided to keep the name for a secret now, something for just you and your wife to only share.

You were both very excited for the day that you would finally be able to meet your baby girl, but of course you savoured all of the memories of your favourite times where your wife would place her hands on your stomach, being able to feel the tiny kicks and movement from your baby girl, a constant reminder of the precious life that was growing inside of you.

The nine months hadn't exactly been the easiest roller coaster, full of hormonal mood swings, horrific morning sickness and pregnancy cravings that had your wife up and out at all hours of the night, but you both know it'll be worth it the minute that you meet your baby girl.

It's the middle of the night when you woke up and feel a dull ache, spreading through your body like a silent alarm. Shifting in bed with soft groan, the discomfort was growing stronger with eaching passing moment.

You only knew it meant one thing, it was time.

"Le," You whispered, shaking your wife awake beside you from her light slumber. "I think... I think its' time, it's happening," you stuttered out.

Leahs' eyes snapped open, panic flooding her senses as she was quick to bolt upright in bed, "What?!" she exclaimed, her heart was pounding in her chest. "Now?!"

"No, next week. Yes now," You couldn't help but sarcastically comment, letting out a hiss as the dull pain started to become a little more intense than before. "It's time, Le," you repeated.

You watched as your wifes' began to race into action and shoot up from the bed, her eyes darting around in a sudden panic, "O... Okay, just stay calm. It's gonna be fine, just... just breathe, love," she told you, despite having everything prepared and ready for this very moment, the reality of it was hitting your wife like a tidal wave right now.

"Le," You sat in the bed and looked at your wife amusedly, one hand was resting on your very swollen pregnant belly and the other was videoing your wifes' initial panic, you wanted video proof of this to look back on and laugh when it was needed, "I'm fine here, alright? My contractions are still quite far apart, so we don't even need to leave to go to the hospital yet, so just stay calm, okay?" you told your wife, trying to ease her own panicking.

"Right, of course, you... you're right," Leah ran her hand over her hair before she settled back down on the bed, "So, do we just wait until its' time then?" she questioned.

"Yes, we just wait until then. Why don't you stick the kettle on and make us both a hot drink?" You suggested, hoping that while your was downstairs that her anxiety would ease up more.

In the hushed intensity of the delivery room, Leah stood by your side with your fingers interwined in hers in a tight grip as the final moments of your labour drew near, "I... I can't, I can't do this!" You cried, panting loudly as the beads of sweat glistened your brow and your breath had become short as you pushed through each contraction.

"Almost there, love," Leah murmered, your wifes' voice a soothing balm in the chaos of the moment, "You're doing amazing. I'm so proud of you,"

"That's it, Y/N. That's it, I can almost see the head," The nurses' voice spoke aloud as she could see the head of your daughter from where she stood, "That's it, almost, Y/N. I just need one final push," she instruced.

Leah let out a gasp and tears welled up in her eyes as she set her eyes on your daughter, "She's almost here, love," she whispered in awe.

"Just one final push, Y/N," The midwife in the room repeated, "You're doing great, just one more push and your daughter will be here," she told you.

With all of the energy you could muster, you pushed one final time and it felt like the room seemed to hold its' breath, the anticipation was thick in the air until it was broken by the ear-piercing wail of your newborn daughter that sounded like a sweet melody to you and your wife right now.

"Congratulations, Mommies," The nurse smiled widely, cradling your newborn daughter in her arms before she placed her down gently in your own, "You have a precious baby girl," she added.

You had longed for this moment that you felt your daughter nestled against your bare skin, you let out tears of joy as you felt that instant connection between you both, "Hi, baby girl. I'm so glad you're here now," You whispered quietly, your daughter looking back at you with big wide eyes.

Tears continued to well up in Leah's eyes as she watched the scene unfold before her, her heart swelled with pride and love for you, who had just brought your new baby girl into the world.

"I love you so much," Leah murmered in awe, leaning down beside you as she pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, "You did it, love. She's here and she's perfect," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"She really is perfect," You whispered back, peering up to your wife with a tired smile, but no matter how exhausted you felt, nothing would change how happy you felt in this moment, there was a sense of overwhelming amount of love and wonder for the little girl that you currently had cradled in your arms.

"I hate to interrupt the moment," The nurse smiled warmly at you both, her eyes crinkling with kindness as she looked between you and then your wife, "Would you like to cut the unbilicol cord, Mum?" she asked your wife, her tone gentle and inviting.

Leahs' own heart fluttered with a mix of emotion and nervousness at the question, glancing at you to seek a sense of reassurement in your eyes that it would be okay, "Is that okay?" she checked with you to make sure it was alright.

You squeezed your wife's hand to reassure it was okay, "You've got this, Mummy," You whispered, noting the name you'd both decided on for each other, Leah would be Mummy and you would be Mumma.

Your wife grinned and turned back to look at the nurse, "Yes, I'd love too," she agreed, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.

With a careful guiding hand from the nurse, your wife gently took the scissors and prepared to make the first cut as her fingers trembled with nerves.

As the blade sliced through the cord, a rush of emotion washing over you as you watched the intimate moment between your wife and newborn daughter, watching as the nurse carefully finished the proccess, your heart swelled with love for the tiny life that you had both brought into the world together.

"I'm so proud of you," You told your wife with an exhausted smile, peering down to look at your little girl resting on your chest before you looked at your wife, "Do you want to hold her?" You whispered the question, almost afraid to disturb the sleeping newborn on your chest.

"I'd love too," Leah nodded in agreement and with the nurse's help, she delicately placed your little baby girl in your wifes' arms.

Watching the moment made your heart swell even more, the first time you saw your wife holding your newborn daughter for the first time would be a memory that would be etched in your memory forever.

"Hi there, I'm your mummy and I'm so happy to meet you, baby Gooner," Your wife cradled your baby girl in her arms as she smiled down at her in awe, "We waited a whole 9 months to meet you but every single minute was worth it now that you're here, and I love you so so much already," she whispered, not taking her eyes of your newborn daughter.

Gently moving to take a seat beside you on your hospital bed, Leah sat with the baby nestled in her arm with her other free arm was wrapped around you, "I'm so in love with you, I love you both so much," she whispered quietly, the two of you just staring lovingly at the tiny bundle wrapped up in a blanket.

Your wife was right in her words, you had waited a long nine months to meet your little girl, but damn it was worth every minute now that she was here in your arms and you were finally a family of three.

leahwilliamsonn and y/nwilliamson posted

Liked by liawaelti, lottewubbenmoy & 98,203 others

leahwilliamsonn: my wife and i would like to introduce the newest baby gooner to the world, remi delilah williamson 👣❤️

my heart is so full of love for our baby girl and my amazing wife right now, I love you both so much! ❤️

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #arsenal women x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #leah williamson x reader #scribblesof #scribblesofagoonerr

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yestrnight · 8 months

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hiiiii!! if you do sub readers, can you do a sub ditzy/dumb slime reader who gets fucked by kaveh and alhaitham? if you don’t wanna you don’t have to, but thanks for reading this!! nd i really loved the other slime reader fics!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ACTIN' LIKE A DAMN HYPOCRITE !

FROM: kaveh / gn! slime! reader / haitham

SUBJECT: you did something wrong and now you're fucked. literally. except i did not do the request and it became kaveh and haitham fighting over you while you get plowed and haitham's a hypocrite the entire time.

( gn reader but they have a CÙNT, seeex, idk this is pretty tame bois )

no matter how endearing you are— all of your gurgly-voiced, innocent-eyed adorableness— one cannot just let you roam free without some sort of discipline. after all, who knows what you're capable of? you're a humanoid slime that kaveh picked out of nowhere, that alone should raise some bells, and plus the fact that you were sucking the living soul out of their dicks every day should warrant you a damn collar.

alhaitham raises his brow at his roommate, who coddles and coos at you in your slime form. "this is why the pesky thing keeps thrashing our room. you spoil them too much."

kaveh stops babbling to you in baby-talk just to shoot his roommate a glare. "oh, shush you. even if they look like a human, they're still a slime through and through. it can't be helped that they'll be a little rowdy every now and then. it's part of their nature!"

"if their nature is going to cost me 10,000 mora for renovation, then it becomes quite the inconvenience for me, i'm afraid," haitham deadpans, shutting his book and leveling his senior with a stern stare. "as the one who found them, do you even have the means to get that money right now?"

kaveh winces. "well, i... i'll manage somehow. somehow." his tone becomes pitiful at the end. finally realizing that he has to teach his little pet some manners so that they won't keep bankrupting him, he turns you around and tries to muster the harshest glare that he can. you notice that the situation has become serious, and in his hands you slowly morph into your humanoid form as you tilt your head innocently.

"kav... eh?" you gurgle in questioning, wide innocent eyes looking up at him. "did i do something wrong?"

"yes, dear," he starts, and he reddens when he notices haitham's amused expression from the corner of his eye. "that was very naughty of you, to destroy haitham's study while we were away. we... i..." he heaves a breath, wincing as he continues to speak. "we need to punish you. you've been a very bad slime."

"we?" haitham cocks a brow.

"oh come on!" kaveh groans. "i know you want in too!"

he's not wrong about that. not when haitham's deep groans sound throughout the room as he's fucking your wet pussy like his life depended on it. it was nice, to be the one fucking instead of being fucked. he still had his pride after all, even if you had stripped him of it countless of times before.

he pinches your clit as he grinds his cock deep into your cunt. you let out a squeal, a cross between surprise and pleasure as you start leaking more and more slime around his cock. he's always been a petty jerk, and it's become more obvious when he relishes in the cloudy expression on your usually clueless face. the face of his dreams and nightmares, staring down at him as he drowns in his own shameless pleasure as if they haven't stripped him of all his dignity.

he swipes a thumb across your lip— relishes it when you shiver in pleasure from his touch— and dips it into your mouth. "this is how you ought to look like everyday," he says, serious eyes studying your face as you whimper and suck on his thumb. "brainless monsters like you should just sit still and submit like a good pet."

"don't be so mean!" kaveh admonishes his roommate, giving him the side eye as if he's not sat behind you and torturing your chest with those delicate fingers. "we're just disciplining them. you don't have to demean them like that!"

haitham shoots him a glare and kaveh, not one to back down from haitham, glares right back. "you don't have the right to talk, " he spits, glaring moodily down at your fucked expression. "you brought this one into our home and allowed it to destroy both of our lives."

"oh please," kaveh sneers. in his aggravation, he pinches your perky nipples so hard that you let out a small sob as he abuses them. "destroy? more like destroying your ass." his smirk widens when haitham blushes angrily. "we both know that after your done plowing my cute lil [y. name] you're going back to taking their dick in your ass."

haitham clicks his tongue, venting his frustration by rutting too deep into you. he's close, kaveh can see it, if the white liquid leaking from his head and floating in your slme torso was any indication. "as if you don't do that either," haitham snaps.

"well, i'm not a bitch about it," kaveh scoffs.

"you act like damn slut when it comes to [y. name]."

you rock up and down against kaveh while you whine and moan from haitham's rough handling. kaveh pecks a loving kiss on your cheek, snuggling into your neck, and you whine back as you try to find his lips again. kaveh grins at haitham.

"better than acting like you don't get bitched everyday."

haitham growls, but says nothing more. once he's done turning your body into his creamy white, he's coming after kaveh.

#uh whoops #i think i did not do the request at all #i went into my own tangent whoops whoops #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #alhaitham smut #kaveh smut #nite.writes #this does not focus much on y/n :'(( more on kaveh and haitham #i just wanted to post smth already hehe

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letterstotheflre · 1 year

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𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐈𝐕𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔) || 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍

summary: it's his fault. daryl knows that. he should've realised sooner that he knew exactly what those mushroom's would do to you once you ate them.

cw: 18+ only. dark fic [ft. sex pollen, dubcon, mentions of previous noncon drugging (on daryl), outdoor sex, grinding, fingering, squirting]

a/n: soo here is my first big daryl fic! honestly, this might be my favourite fic i’ve ever written :3 it was very fun to write and somehow i really liked writing daryl dialogue/inner monologue (his accent is just so fun lol). once again, this was supposed to be a very feral smut fest and ended up having a lot of emotional moments and inner daryl turmoil </3 i still hope you like it :)) || also very unrelated side note, but i think “gold rush” by taylor fits the daryl in this fic v much (it’d be from his pov, not yours)

“Where d’ya think we should go next?” You ask Daryl around a mouthful of the lone rabbit he hunted earlier this afternoon.

Finding food is getting harder and harder, not to mention you’re running out of your water supply. It’s obvious you need to move your camp to a better area, preferably somewhere near a lake or river. The question is, where is that exactly?

Daryl shrugs, turning the rabbit leg between his dirty fingers around. He takes a rough bite.

He doesn’t know, and to be honest, he doesn’t really care. Now that the prison fell and with the group scattered to the winds, he doesn’t have much hope for anything. He had gotten a little too comfortable there, his first mistake, and now look where it landed him. Had he learnt nothing from his first camp with Merle, then the camp in Atlanta, then the CDC, and finally the farm? He had enough experience under his belt to know that things always took a turn for the worse, especially when everything seemed safe and peaceful. Yet he still let his guard down.

The thing is, the prison… the prison was different. It was well protected, with several feet of fence that kept the walkers far from the main building. They didn’t have to worry about any walkers creeping into their cells and taking a bite out of them in the middle of the night since they were able to clear their side of the prison in a matter of days. They had guns and ammo, food and water. Hershel and Carol even taught them how to take care of crops. Hell, they even got their hands on some cattle! They didn’t need to scavenge the woods for some meagre squirrels any more.

Things were looking up. He had even started to think that maybe, just maybe, they could spend the rest of their lives there. But then the Governor showed up and everything went to shit.

So now here he is. No Rick, no Carol. Alone once again. Well, not exactly alone– he had you for company.

It’s not that he doesn’t like you– he likes you more than just a normal amount if he’s being honest with himself. It’s just that… you’re a dead girl walking. He doesn’t know how you’ve made it this far, and by all accounts you shouldn’t have. Before all this, before the virus and the walking dead, you were a preschool teacher. You had lived in the city your entire life, in a nice house located in a nice neighbourhood with nice parents. If he had to bet, he’d say you were even prom queen back in the day.

There had been no need for you to learn how to hunt, scavenge, track, shoot a gun or even handle a knife. Daryl had been the one to teach you how to shoot a gun in the air, volunteering immediately when Rick brought the subject up and completely ignoring the amused, knowing smile on his friend’s face.

If he focuses hard enough, he can still hear the sound of your happy laughter the first time you hit the center of the target. Can still feel your chest pressed to his in your celebratory hug.

“Think I saw some train tracks a couple miles east yesterday. If the others saw ‘em too, they’re probably following them thinkin’ we’re doing the same,” you ramble on, not letting his lack of answer deter you. “Maybe we could find Rick or Maggie.” You lean forward so you can reach the mushrooms you picked up today, plop one and then another inside your awaiting mouth.

Daryl watches as you chew, eyes judging. He had been adamant that you shouldn’t eat them, shouldn’t even touch them.

“Stupid girl,” he growled, swatting your hand away from the cluster growing on the bark of a tree. “Didn’t ya mom tell ya not to touch things you never seen before?”

“Ain’t stupid,” you bristled at his tone. “I know these, they used to grow ‘rond some plants in the garden back home. Pretty sure mom put them in our soup ev’ry now and then.”

You don’t let his lack of answer deter you. “Think I saw some train tracks a

Daryl kneeled beside you, broad right shoulder touching your left one, and examined them closely. He was sure he had never seen them before, not in the woods from his hometown nor in any of his hunting trips since the outbreak started. “Nah, these ain’t safe,” he concluded.

“Yes, they are.”

“No”, he enunciated the word to make it as clear as possible. “They ain’t.”

“Yes, they are,” you scowl and plush a couple from their roots. “I ain’t stupid nor useless. I know I can eat these.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “If ya want to kill y’self just to prove a point then fine, be my fuckin’ guest,” he snarked. Then he got up and kept walking in silence, not even sparing you another glance.

He shakes his head firmly. “Nah, no train tracks.”

“What? Why?” You ask, surprised. “It’s our best shot at findin’ the others!”

“Ain’t no one to find, girl. S’better if ya stop kiddin’ yourself.”

“How could you say that?!” You look at him like he’s a monster. Daryl clenches his jaw. “They’re our friends, our family! We can’t just give ‘em up for dead as soon as things go south! Not after everything!”

Daryl throws away the bone in his hand and looks at you with fury. Don’t you get it? Merle, Sophia, Andrea, Lori, T-Dog, Dale, the list goes on and on. You’re the only one he knows for sure he has left and he’ll be damned if he has to add your name to the list too because you want to search for ghosts. You are his responsibility now. His voice is loud when he says, “Yeah, we should! ‘Cause if you saw those tracks y’know what it means? Means other people saw ‘em too. Bad people. And if ya go ‘round there, lighting fires and singin’ those stupid kid songs you sing all day like you’re in a fuckin’ musical or some shit y’know what they’re gonna do? They’re gon’ kill ya, or worse. So drop the fuckin’ topic and finish yer dinner.”

There really is no room for argument. You drop your gaze to the floor and gulp down the lump in your throat, bringing your knees to your chest. Everything is silent for at least an hour, the only sounds coming from the crackling fire and Daryl’s chewing.

And then you call his name.

“Daryl?” Your voice is different; breathier, quieter. Almost like you can barely string the letters together. “I don’t feel very well.”

He’s on his feet in a second, the argument forgotten as soon as he heard your mumbled call. In three quick steps he’s standing in front of you. He kneels so you’re the same height and cups the side of your face. “Wha’s wrong?”

You blink sluggishly, revealing your dilated pupils, and lick your lips. “I don’t know,” you slur. Your breathing gets heavier. “I think– Oh God, I’m so hot,” you complain, almost ripping the zipper of your jacket in your haste to take it off. You throw it away like it’s made of molten lava. Before he can stop you, you take off your long sleeved shirt, leaving you in just a tank top, and lean back against the fallen tree trunk with a relieved sigh.

It doesn’t make any sense, Daryl thinks. It’s almost winter in Georgia, you should be freezing, but there are no goosebumps littering your skin that might signal you are cold in any way. In fact, you’re even trying to roll your cargo pants up to relieve your legs from a nonexistent blistering heat.

Daryl presses his hand to your forehead and is surprised to find it slick with sweat. “Y’re burning up,” he says, though he guesses you could probably already tell. He takes one of your arms and inspects it closely, looking for any wounds that could potentially be infected. “Where ya bit?”

You shake your head. “No, no. I didn’t see any walkers today.”

Your arms are in pristine condition, save for some sparse moles and freckles and a single healed scratch on your forearm he remembers you got from running around the woods so carelessly. There’s no sign of a bite or infected cut.

“Did ya get close to anyone sick back at the prison?” He knows it’s stupid to ask– everyone had taken their rounds of antibiotics to prevent another possible outbreak, and it’s also been a week since the prison fell. If you had been infected, you would’ve showed symptoms earlier on, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

“No, I was with Beth ‘n Judy.” Suddenly, you gasp in pain and clutch your lower stomach, pressing your thighs together. “Daryl, it hurts,” you whimper.

The pain in your voice breaks his heart. You look so small, curled up in a tight ball like a wounded animal. He brings you into his lap and shushes you, “I know, I know.” He rubs your back in an attempt to soothe you. “Just lemme think for a second, ‘kay? M’gonna fix ya.”

He wrecks his brain for a solution but keeps coming up blank. He doesn’t have any idea as to what the hell caused this– one second you were fine and then the other you were bending over in pain. Did you touch something? Eat something? Was the water contaminated? Did some poisonous plant graze your skin? Was the rabbit he killed infected and he didn’t notice?

The tip of your nose tickles his neck as it moves from his collarbone up to his jaw, your rib cage expanding beneath his broad hand when you take a deep breath. He grunts at the strange sensation. “What are y’doin’, girl?”

Your hands curl around his shoulders, the leather of his vest crinkling beneath your tight grip. “You smell so good,” you mewl, taking in another whiff of his scent.

What the fuck.

He doesn’t know where the random compliment came from. He knows you have to be lying though– it’s been weeks since his last shower. His last one was five days before the prison fell and it wasn’t even a proper shower, just a scrub down with a rag, a bucket of water and some soap they found in the last supply run. That’s why he says, albeit a little disheartened, “Y’re talking nonsense.”

You shift in his lap, pressing your chests together and Daryl has to force himself not to react to the feeling of your boobs against his chest or to the movement of your wiggling hips over his crotch. “Am not, am not,” you babble, pressing small wet kisses to his neck and trailing your palms down his strong arm. “You– you smell so good. Feel so good. So big. I–” your breath hitches when you grind against him, relief morphing your previously pained features. “I need you, Daryl.”

His hands that were previously laying limp on either side of him are suddenly held by your softer, smaller ones and moved to your thighs. He drops his gaze, watches you control his hands. Up and down, up and down. The light coming from the fire illuminates the remnants of your dinner. You shift directions and now his hands are on your ass, forcing him to squeeze and grope as you keep grinding against him.

He stares intently at the leftover mushrooms and all of a sudden he’s 23 years old and Merle’s laughing his ass off as Daryl finishes the dinner his older brother had insisted on cooking. He remembers now, the desperation clawing at his chest when the shrooms started making effect. Remembers how Merle dragged him to a club in the city and patted his back in encouragement. “Go wild, baby brother! Lord knows ya need this.”

Misery is heavy on his shoulders. He wants to throw up– he was wrong before. He did see those mushrooms before. He had eaten them and been under their control. And now you were suffering the same fate he had all those years ago. Because of him, because he failed to realise sooner.

You move his hands up to your waist, your stomach, your breasts. He never wanted it to be like this. He had hoped, stupid as it was to dream about something other than mere survival, that if he ever got the courage to confess his feelings it’d be when everyone was safe again. When you didn’t have to sleep in tents and cars and pray to God he found any semblance of food. When you’d finally have a house, or a room, or at least a bed.

He’d be soft with you, just like you were with him every day.

Now, as you grind and moan above him in a lust filled rut, that dream will remain that. Just a dream.

He tears his hands from your grip, one settling on one side of your hip and the other cradling your cheek. Heat emanates from your skin like you’re a furnace. Daryl leans forward, lips brushing yours as he promises, “M’gonna make it better. That okay?”

You’re not in the right state of mind but he still asks for any semblance of peace of mind.

“Please,” you whimper, little crystal beads gathering on your waterline.

After months of pining, he finally closes the distance between you and presses your lips together in a firm kiss. Your mouth is soft and plain against his, trusting him enough to follow his every command as he devours you completely. He uses the hand on your hip to help you smooth down your otherwise stuttered grinding, drinking down every sweet little moan and gasp he elicits out of you.

That’s what you are– sweet. Sweet to touch and taste and feel. Sweet even in the way you cling to him, use him to relieve the affliction between your legs he accidentally caused.

Daryl holds you by the back of your neck, feels the warmth of your breath as you moan his name. “More. I need more,” you cry. The tear tracks on your cheeks glimmer in the warm fire light. “M’so empty. Need you to fuck me. Please, please, please,” you beg like a broken record, forcing your fist into Daryl’s chest and twisting his heartstrings without mercy.

“Don’t cry, doll face,” he rasps, brushing away your fresh wave of tears. You inhale shakily, leaning into his touch and nuzzling his palm like a touch starved kitten. Your hands tremble as you unbutton your jeans, struggling to pull them down from how sweaty you are and how sticky the insides of your thighs became. Daryl silences you every whine with a kiss and helps you pull them down to your shins, not willing to risk taking off both your shoes and pants completely in case you need to make a quick escape.

“I said I’s gonna fix ya and I am. Just need a couple minutes first.” You make another noise of complaint that turns into a relieved sigh when Daryl pulls your panties to the side and teases your folds with the tip of his fingers. “Need to get ya ready first. This all for me?” He asks, gathering all the slick dripping out of you.

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed in bliss as he toys with you. You nudge your noses together. “Always for you, Daryl. Only you.”

You really need to stop playing with his feelings like that. You’re talking out of your ass, he tells himself, letting your desire and need for relief control your words. Still, it’s nice to hear. He can’t deny that. Maybe he can live in this fantasy bubble a little longer, at least until reality crashes down on you both and you have to come to terms with what happened and decide to never see him again.

He circles your weeping hole, taunting you, then plunges a lone finger inside when you look like you’re ready to pounce on him. It’s easy, oh so easy, for him to slip in. He thought it would be harder, given the fact that he knew you haven’t slept with anyone since the apocalypse started. Not that he kept an eye on you or anything, he just happened to notice how your tent and cell were always silent, much like his. But you’re so wet that your cunt practically swallowed him right in.

You tap his shoulder needily, mouthing the word “more”, and bite your lip to stay quiet when he adds a second finger and then a third. You could cry from how happy you are right now.

“That enough for ya, ya spoiled girl?” He scoffs, rubbing circles on your swollen clit with his thumb.

You can only nod as he buries his fingers up to his knuckles, curling them and feeling the rough calluses as he prods inside you in search of your soft spot. When your loudest moan yet lets him know he found it, he abuses it, creating loud squelching noises that have him smiling.

Euphoria sends a shiver down your spine and makes your entire body shake as you cum, a small stream of clear liquid hitting Daryl’s wrist and dripping down to his jeans. “Shit,” he whispers, amazed.

He made you squirt.

Daryl’s still staring at his dripping wrist as you paw at him with a heaving chest, fingers curling around his brown plaid shirt. Your nails could nearly break the fabric. “You promised,” you sob. “You promised you’d fix it. That you’d fuck me. Don’t you want me?”

He tears his gaze away from the mess between your legs in shock. How could you ever think he doesn’t want you? When you’ve consumed his every waking thought and haunted his every dream. When the only thing he wanted to do when you looked at him with those glimmering eyes was to follow your every command word for word. When he didn’t want to just fuck you– he wanted to keep you safe and warm, wanted to make sure you’d never know hunger.

He grabs your jaw, fingers tightly pressing on your warm cheeks, and snarls. “Don’t ever think I don’t want ya.” He tugs you to him so he can kiss you, unbuckling his belt with one hand and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. Your own hand joins his and squirms under the rough fabric so you can take his cock out from behind his boxers. His jaw clenches at the feeling of your soft hand around him, so different from his own. Untouched by decades of manual work, protected by dutiful applications of hand creams (he's heard you tell Beth how dry your hands are now and how much you miss your favourite hand cream. He’s been looking for some on every supply run ever since).

He spreads all the wetness stuck to his fingers over his cock, his stomach doing a summersault when he sees you biting your lower lip in want. You guide him to your entrance, gasping in unison when the mushroom tip slips past your soaking wet folds. Slowly, you sink yourself down, Daryl mouthing at your neck as you get used to the thickness of his cock as it threatens to split you in half.

“Relax,” Daryl grunts, the scruff covering his cheeks scratching at the tender skin of your cleavage. He goes back to playing with your clit, knowing it’ll allow the tension to leave your muscles and he’ll be able to push in the remaining two inches.

Once he’s buried to the hilt, you take a shuddering breath in and slowly start to bounce. “Wanted this for so long,” you babble. “Wanted you, Daryl. A-And now you want me,” you smile, increasing the speed of your bouncing. You chant, “You want me, you want me, you want me.”

Daryl nods, teeth gritted as he feels you tighten around him, walls pulsing. You collapse on his chest, hips still grinding in search of any form of friction. With a firm and secure grip, he grabs your ass and uses it as leverage so he can pound you down on him. For once, he’s not worried about loud noises or stray walkers or even unknown strangers stumbling into the scene. No, he just worries about you and your sweet cunt keeping his cock warm; about your lips on his neck, your hands gripping his hair and your dulcet “uh uh uh’s” ringing in his ears as you cum for the second time.

He lifts you off of him just in time to shoot ropes of white all over his shirt, biting your neck to muffle his grunts of pleasure. For once in what seems like a lifetime, the walker infested woods are completely still, only both of your laboured breathing breaking the unusual silence.

Until you speak in a meek voice and it’s like he’s suddenly doused in cold water. “Daryl?”

He drops his forehead to your clavicle and shuts his eyes tightly, heaving a sigh. This is it– the moment where he loses you, where you run away. Forever disgusted with him. Afraid of him for breaking your trust.

After another beat of silence, you call his name again. “What happened?”

He straightens his back and rubs his face. He clears his throat. “It was the mushrooms,” he refuses to look at you as he explains the events of the night, unable to stomach the look of disgust he’s sure is all over your pretty face. “The ones you picked up today. I thought I didn’t know them but I did. They’re some kind of… aphrodisiac or some shit like that. Merle…” he trails off, skipping over the reason he knew about them in the first place. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. “Y’were feeling so sick ‘n those things… with the amount you ate they would’ve– they would’ve killed ya if I didn’t…”

“You saved me,” you state, cradling his face so that he can see you. His face is all scrunched up like he wants to cry and he hates himself for it– he has no right to feel like shit. He shakes his head. “You did. You saved me. I would’ve died if you didn’t do as I said, as I wanted you to.” You kiss his lips chastely. “Y’know, I meant what I said earlier. While we were…”

“Nah,” he scoffs. “Y’were just saying shit ‘cause of the drugs. S’okay, ya don’t have to worry ‘bout my feelings.”

“No,” you frown, disconcerted that he always seems to bring himself down without even realising it. “I meant it. I’ve wanted you for a while, since– since the CDC, actually. When we played that card game after dinner and ya helped me get to bed since I was too drunk to even stand.” You smile as you remember the feeling of his arm around your waist and the soft pat on your head once you were resting on the pillow. You tuck some strands of hair behind his ear and his throat dries. Shrugging, you say, “I just never thought you liked me that way.”

Daryl weighs his options, wonders if he should take a leap of faith or pretend he’s never thought of you that way. This is too much for him. He’s scared to bare his chest wide open only for you to dislike what’s inside. But then he sees the earnest look in your eye and behind it, the fear that he won’t say anything at all.

“I do,” he gets out through the fist clutching his vocal chords. “Like you. Like that, I mean. I–” He shuts his eyes at how useless he’s with words (another reason why you deserve someone better than him). However, instead of rolling your eyes at him or making a derisive sound like he expected, you simply giggle at his uselessness, reaching for him once more.

He lets you kiss him and touch him as much as you want. You trace his brow bone and cheekbones with the soft pads of your fingers, play with the ends of matted hair and twirl them around your index. When you yawn, he makes sure you have your top and jacket back on and lets you rest on his chest. He stretches his arm so he can reach his discarded crossbow and leaves it on his side. “C’mon, go to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

pls reblog if u enjoyed it, it’ll make me twirl my hair and kick my feet :3

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon

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yaksha-lover · 8 months

Text

First Love/Late Spring

Summary: Having a gorgeous prince as a soulmate is practically a dream come true. Unfortunately for you, Leona doesn’t exactly care for things like fate and love.

Leona Kingscholar x Reader (Soulmate AU), background Malleus & Reader

CW: Leona is a jerk/toxic also possessive, mild discussion of class issues, unrequited love

His first words to you, written in beautiful script on your wrist, hadn’t made your mother excited at the prospects of your soulmate, but you hadn’t much cared about their brashness. Growing up, they were all you had to fantasize about as a distraction from your tedious life.

Meeting Leona had finally changed that, crumbling your hopes of his first words simply being a misunderstanding to dust.

You hadn’t grown up in the the Sunset Savanna, but you’d been able to catch glimpses of him here and there because of your place in Briar Valley’s court. The child of the Draconia’s head servant, you’d grown up in the halls of the castle, often attending to the royals while helping your mother. Despite your station, Malleus never treated you differently, often asking his grandmother to give you time off to play with him, for which she conceded with a smile and ruffle to her grandson’s head.

You remember the first time you’d seen Leona. He was merely a child of fourteen, a couple years older than yourself. Him and his brother had come for a diplomatic visit, the two princes strutting through the large halls. One brother warm and friendly, the other as icy as the snow that fell outside the castle that day.

Leona had caught your attention immediately. You watched him, transfixed as you hid behind the skirt of your mother. Your soulmate mark hadn’t even been at the front of your mind, but even then you’d felt an instinctual pull toward him. There was a sense of familiarity there, almost as though he was the prince you had grown up around and not Malleus, despite never having spoken to him.

Even as your mother forced you out from behind her to stand in a respectable line with the rest of the servants lowering themselves into a bow in front of the foreign princes, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

Leona hadn’t glanced at you even once during that visit.

Years passed before you ever laid eyes on him again, but he would still grace your thoughts from time to time. Lord Malleus and the queen didn’t have guests very often, so his visit lingered.

You’d asked Malleus about him one day, wondering aloud about the second prince of the Sunset Savanna. The fae hadn’t known much. He’d also been strangely silent for the rest of the evening, so you wondered if perhaps you’d touched on a sore subject.

Those were the days when you were still a child and allowed to play alongside Briar Valley’s heir. Before your stations caught up with you. Back when you were allowed to be friends, instead of ruler and subject.

It was your own mother’s insistence, more than the queen’s, that forced you into days away from your childhood friend. Now that you were growing up, you had much to learn about how to run the domestic side of a kingdom, ensuring everything would be perfectly coordinated to keep the royals happy. After all, you were expected to replace your mother’s position and serve Lord Malleus after she passed.

Now, you rarely saw Malleus apart from when you were serving him his meals. When you’d bring him his breakfast in the morning, he’d try to chat with you, but you had to leave apologetically with all the chores you needed to do. You could tell by the softness of his voice, lacking in his usual amusement, that he was disappointed with your absence, but you hadn’t had much choice.

Once Malleus departed for NRC with Lilia, you saw him even less. Soon, Silver and Sebek followed, leaving the castle to have fewer familiar faces to liven your day. You weren’t a magic user, but you’d known that even if you were, you’d never have been allowed to leave the castle. No matter your circumstances, the one thing that kept you holding on was the fantasy of your soulmate coming to sweep you away from this life of simplicity.

When Malleus was in his last year of schooling, you turned eighteen and were permitted to temporarily visit Lilia and your prince.

Arriving at NRC, the two guided you to their dorm, where you would be staying for your visit. The other students had stared at you as you walked into Diasomnia; apparently it wasn’t common for anyone to have visitors, but the headmaster had made an exception for the Draconia’s.

All the other rooms were full for the school year, so Malleus agreed to let you stay with him, as he had his own single room.

As you unpacked your things, Malleus floated a second bed into the room. You thanked him softly, and he nodded in turn. It saddened you a bit, how things had become so distant between you and your childhood friend. You understood, of course, you were practically living in different worlds; his full of magic and royalty, yours of mundaneness and servitude. Despite the lack of time spent together, you hoped this visit would bring the two of you closer together again, dispelling some of the awkwardness you’d felt since returning to his presence.

After settling in, Lilia promised to take you on a tour of campus. Malleus had housewarden responsibilities to deal with, so he bid you a goodbye and left you alone in his room. Your eyes settled on the greyness of the walls; just like home. It seemed Malleus, too, found comfort in the familiar.

Lilia knocked on the door, smiling at you excitedly before pulling you into the hall, giggling all about the excitement to come. He showed you around the campus grounds, pointing out the different dorm uniforms and various areas he found interesting.

“Oh dear,” he suddenly remarked, “I’ve forgotten to remind Malleus of the housewarden meeting again.”

Lilia took your hand again, pulling you towards the other side of the school, despite your protests that Malleus had already known.

“Just one reminder isn’t typically enough for Malleus,” he said.

Soon enough, the two of you arrived in front of a small room. As Lilia tried to peek in the window to see if Malleus was already there, you approached the door, curious of this new place. Before you could look too closely at the name on the plaque, the door swung open, leading someone on the other side to crash into you.

The man managed to steady himself, but you fell backwards, landing painfully on your tailbone. You stared at the lion beastman, noting his strong build. His flowing brown locks fell across his shoulders, his cute ears perked on the top of his head. His piercing jade eyes were narrowed in judgement, but you found them beautiful all the same. He scoffed when he saw you sitting pathetically on the ground after your fall.

“Who the hell are you?” he glared.

The words rung in your ears, leaving you shell-shocked even as he awaited an answer. The words you’d dreamed of, over and over again, romanticizing every possibility and hoping they were different to what they sounded like. You couldn’t form a response, only staring up at your apparent soulmate, the prince from so many years ago, Leona Kingscholar.

“Whatever, I don’t care. Just get out of my way,” he huffed, leaving before you could even get a word in.

You’d heard rumours about Leona before, but it was hard to know which of them was true. People often said that Malleus would turn you to stone with one look, and that was the farthest thing from the truth.

Lilia, when you inquired briefly after Malleus’ silence on the topic, had informed you that Leona could supposedly be quite disagreeable. You hadn’t thought much of it then, let alone the words on your wrist.

Now, Lilia giggled for a moment, before helping you up. “That’s the Kingscholar fellow who visited Briar Valley when you were a child.”

“I know,” you replied, too lost in thought to realize your sleeve had slid up, allowing Lilia to catch a glimpse of the very words Leona had said a few moments ago.

He looked back at you, surprised. “Leona is-”

“So rude!” you interrupted him as Malleus exited the meeting with the rest of the housewardens. It seems Leona left as soon as he could, while the rest lingered behind for a moment. “Can you believe he knocked me over like that?”

“Kingscholar harmed you?” Malleus asked, approaching you. His eyes hardened as they scanned over your body, searching for injury. “I will take you to the infirmary.”

“No need,” you waved his concern off. “We just bumped into each other.”

Lilia watched the exchange between you two, and you held eye contact with him, imploring him not to share his discovery with the prince.

“You actually made it to the meeting, Malleus?” Lilia inquired, thankfully changing the topic.

“Yes. It seems having MC here reminded me.” Malleus smiled gently at you.

“I’m glad to be of service.” You smile back, happy a bit of the awkwardness built up from distance is going away.

“No,” Malleus said. “While you’re here, you’ll be under no one’s service. Certainly not my own.”

“Thank you. That means a lot, Mal,” you replied, using a nickname for him that you haven’t used since you were children.

The light dusting of pink that coloured his cheeks went unnoticed by you.

You stayed up that night, just thinking about your soulmate. All this time you’d wondered who it could be, only to find out you had already met him years ago. Not only that, you’d admired him. You wanted to deny it, but even back then you’d felt an intrinsic but inexplicable pull towards him.

You’d never considered it could be because he was your soulmate. After all, the two of you couldn’t be more different. Were you really destined to find him after being locked away in Briar Valley your entire life?

For better or for worse, Leona was yours. Even he couldn’t deny it with your first words to him presumably printed on his own forearm. Sure, your first encounter hadn’t been the best, but you’d probably just caught him at a bad time.

Despite your fears, you resigned yourself to try and talk to him at the next possible chance.

You’d thought about talking to Lilia about what to say to him, but you quickly dismissed the thought. As much as you loved him, you knew Lilia was hardly a romantic by anyone’s definition but his own.

Instead, you enlisted the help of Silver to point you towards the direction of Savanaclaw, Leona’s apparent dorm. Thankfully, he hadn’t asked too many questions and only wished you luck, dropping in a quick warning about avoiding angering anyone in the dorm. It seemed Savanaclaw had many strong fighters; it was no wonder someone like Leona was their leader.

Silver spotted a shorter boy as you approached the dorm, calling out to him. “Hello, Ruggie.”

The blond boy walked towards him, eyeing you by Silver’s side. “Silver. Who is this?”

“Malleus’ guest. They’ve come to see Leona.”

“Leona?” he questioned, turning to you. “Why do you want to see him?”

“I have my reasons,” you replied, not exactly wanting to tell this stranger about your relationship to his housewarden.

“No can do. Leona’s in a bad mood today. If you annoy him anymore, he’ll just take it out for me.”

“Thanks for taking me here, Silver. I’ll be okay on my own for now.”

Silver took the hint and stated that he’d see you back at Diasomnia, before heading off. You turned back to Ruggie.

“I’m his soulmate,” you revealed, pulling up your sleeve for him to examine Leona’s words. You hadn’t wanted to, but Ruggie looked awfully reluctant to take you before.

His eyes widened, suddenly much more aware of you. Ruggie’s eyes surveilled you top to bottom. “That does sound like him. Huh. I was beginning to think Leona didn’t have one.” He shook his head. “Okay, I’ll take you to his room. He would probably want me to. I think. But I’ve warned you, he’s not feeling good right now. You sure you still want to see him?”

You hesitated to reply for a moment. Your first interaction with him had gone terribly wrong. Your poor heart couldn’t risk another one, but you also knew if you waited even a day longer to speak to him you’d go stir-crazy.

“Take me,” you told him. You would need to face Leona sooner or later.

Leona’s room was huge in comparison to the others you’d passed by. Every surface seemed to be draped in luxury silks and handmade tapestries of only the finest quality. It’s high ceiling and fancy decor gave it an open feeling, but also one of impersonality. You couldn’t get a grasp on him at all.

He was sleeping when you entered, which should have been your first sign to turn and run. Warnings about ‘waking a sleeping beast’ and all. Ruggie had approached Leona, urging him quietly to wake up. Leona glared at him, until he turned and pointed at you, standing in the doorway.

“You again? Get out. Ruggie, what the hell? You just bringing anyone in here now?”

“I’m out of here,” Ruggie said, quickly leaving the room.

“What do you want?”

“My name is-”

He interrupted you, bored. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m your soulmate,” you blurted out. “Sorry, I know this isn’t the best way for us to officially meet but-”

Leona instinctively glanced down at his arm, furrowing his brow. Surely enough, the beginning on an introduction swiftly cut off was printed on forearm. He’d wondered about the abrupt end of the sentence back when he was younger. He took a few seconds to examine you as you stood rambling on.

“Do you really think I care? Being my soulmate doesn’t make you special. You’re just as pathetic as the rest of them.”

You hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet, but his cruel words cut deeper than you’d thought. You felt yourself tearing up, no matter how you tried to resist it.

“I’m sorry you feel that way. But I won’t stop trying, you know we’re meant to be toge-”

He glared, looking down on you. “You’re a pathetic little herbivore, through and through. Even if I cared about having a soulmate, do you really think I’d want you?”

It hurt, even though you think you’d known what was coming. To be rejected by one’s soulmate was unthinkable; did he truly find you that repulsive? You fled his room, not willing to hear anymore of his words.

Leona, exhausted from his day and only half-remembering this interaction, went back to sleep.

The next day, Ruggie found Leona napping in the garden.

“You know, that was harsh, even for you. Rejecting your soulmate? What were you thinking?”

“I know. Stop eavesdropping.”

“Whatever. I think Malleus is on warpath now that you’ve broken the heart of his guest.”

“Malleus’ guest, huh?”

“Yeah. Apparently they were raised as a servant in his castle.”

“That lizard has been ordering around my soulmate?”

“Now you care?” Ruggie asked, exasperated.

“Fine, I overreacted yesterday. You caught me at a bad time. It’s not a big deal.”

“I think Malleus would disagree.”

“Will you shut up about him?”

“I’m pretty sure your soulmate would too.”

“…”

“You fucked up, man.”

“Whatever. It’s either disappointing them now, or disappointing them later. They’ll get over it.”

“Why’d you even say that stuff about not wanting them as a soulmate? They’re certainly attractive, and seemed nice enough.”

“I needed to get rid of them and finish my nap.”

“Once again, you’ve fucked up.”

Leona glared at him. “I told you, I know. My soulmate was bound to hate me at some point or another. Why disappoint them by letting them get to know me and then finding out? Plus, I don’t need someone dragging me down with sappy shit and more responsibilities like dates and anniversaries.”

“Dude, soulmates are literally designed to love you. I know this is rich coming from me, but maybe don’t be such a jerk for once.”

With that, Ruggie left Leona behind to stew in his thoughts.

“Malleus,” you cried into his shoulder. “He doesn’t want me. My own soulmate!”

You’d been able to mostly hold it together when you returned to Diasomnia, but after Malleus had asked you what was wrong as you were about to sleep, all the pent up feelings burst through in waves of angst and regret.

“Kingscholar has always been a brute. You deserve far better.” Malleus stroked a hand gently over your head, moving to wiping away stray tears from your cheek.

“No, no, he’s right. Why would he want to be with me? I’m just a pathetic magicless human, there’s no reason-”

“Stop,” Malleus orders sharply. “I will not allow you to talk about yourself in this manner.” He leaned in to pull you into his arms, whispering gently into your ear. “Anyone, prince or not, would be the luckiest in the world to have you. I wish you might see yourself as I do, my dear.”

“Malleus,” you sighed, missing the true meaning of his words and instead plunging the knife deeper, “sometimes I wish you were my soulmate instead of him.”

He only dared to speak his response once you were well asleep, snoring from across the room.

“As do I.”

Over the last few days of your visit, you tried your best to avoid Leona, but it proved more difficult than one would think. No matter where you went, he seemed to appear, watching you from across the field or cafeteria or classroom. Thankfully, Malleus stayed by your side the entire time.

That was, until he was once again forced to attend to housewarden duties. Feeling the need for fresh air, you resigned yourself to taking a walk around campus.

Unfortunately, you managed to run into Leona again. Without Malleus by your side, he finally approached you. Knowing that you would be forced to face him eventually, you waited for him to speak.

“Where’s your guard dog?” he asked dryly.

“Busy. What do you want?” you echo his words back at him.

“The real question is what do you want? First you come around claiming to be my soulmate, now you’ve got the lizard’s scent all over you. What, you want him instead?”

You glared at him. How dare he act like you were in the wrong after what he’d said to you. “And if I do?”

Your words lit a fire in his eyes, replacing the tired apathy. “You want Malleus? Too bad. I’m the one the universe designed for you. You belong to me, and no one else.”

Taken aback by his response, you replied: “What’s your problem? You’re the one who rejected me.”

“Maybe I’ve changed my mind about you.”

“And if I have too?”

“Take it up with the universe, I guess.”

“Screw you.” You’d thought, hoped, that he might try for an apology. You suppose the words on your wrist had been a warning instead of an opportunity.

“MC.” He called your name as you started walking away. “I know you feel what’s between us. I never really believed in this ‘fate’ shit, but I even I can’t deny it. Why do you think I approached you? I guess I can’t help it. I don’t know a thing about you, and it pisses me off that I want to.”

You stand rooted in place by his confession. He’s been horrible to you, and yet his words ring true. You do feel it, no matter how much you don’t want to. You want to be near him, getting some kind of sick pleasure out of how he’s been hovering around you the past few days.

“You know we’ve met before. Back in Briar Valley.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Obviously. You know, I never wanted to go on that dumb visit. Father insisted, but now I know, everything was done to put as together, MC. No matter how much we try to stay away from each other, no matter how angry we make each other, we’ll also belong to each other, and I think you know that.”

You are his and he is yours. Those green eyes look at you, and you know your decision has already been made.

“You have a lifetime of things to make up for, and we’ve only just met.”

“I know,” he smirks. “Good thing for you, soulmates are for life.”

#leona is a meanie here im sorry i love him but he’s a jerk and emotionally stunted #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #malleus draconia x reader #leona x reader #malleus x reader #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #ruggie bucchi #silver vanrouge #twst #twisted wonderland

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pjoxreader · 1 year

Text

PJO Boys Helping With Reader's Period

Leo Valdez

-This man is a mechanical genius, he would make you anything and everything. Just say the word.

-So when he sees you hesitating about asking him for something he pokes and prods until you cave in, asking him to make you a heating pad.

-It takes a few seconds for the gears in his brain to turn before he gets it. “Ohhh! Yeah! Yeah! That’s no problem, I’m sure I can cook something up! Just give me a night!”

-There’s no way he wouldn’t drop everything if he knew your comfort was on the line.

-He’d go around and ask the other girls in camp about the sort of things that helped them with cramps.

-Sure enough the next morning he’d bring you a horribly wrapped gift with a sleepy grin, offering you the heating pad he made. It not only had different heat levels and wrapped around your entire body to help with lower back cramps, it also had multiple massaging functions.

-Please take a nap with him, after all that work he’d want nothing more.

Frank Zhang

-He tries so hard to be helpful. He really tries. It isn’t his fault that all the women in his family were very strong and independent.

-You once asked him to get you some pads. He ended up coming back with six different boxes and some tampons just in case.

-”...Frank…” you complain as he sets the all down on your bed, you could see his hesitance as he tries to figure out what he did wrong.

-”Did… Did I not get enough?” You can’t stay mad at him since he looked like a worried puppy.

-He ends up working on some basic tasks instead like getting your craving for you. That? That he can do.

-He’ll bring you anything from Hot coco, to your favorite chocolate or sweet. And if it’s very specific he’ll go to Nico to ask if he could shadow travel for it.

-He also keeps a little stash of some of your favorite snacks, just in case he isn’t able to get what you’re craving in time.

Percy Jackson

-Sally Jackson raised this man right. SHE RAISED HIM RIGHT.

-He carries around both tampons and pads, no questions asked for anyone who needs it. Not only is he naturally charming, he's genuinely a sweet guy.

-You accidently bleed through onto his bed? No worries he can just wash it. It isn’t the first time he’s had to get blood out of something.

-He’ll give you massages to help with your cramps. It doesn’t matter how long it takes as long as it helps you feel better.

-He claims it’s a good workout so he doesn’t mind doing it.

-Don’t expect to get anything yourself during your period. You need food? He’s on his way. Water? Already got it.

-When it’s time to sleep he’ll hold you close and gently rub circles into your hip and side, whispering loving words of affirmation. He knows your emotions could get a bit wild during this time of the month. He’s the best boyfriend you could ask for.

Jason Grace

-He’s clueless. He was raised by wolves after all and the time he was with his family he was too young to be informed about… That.

-At least the look of utter horror on his face is amusing. He looks down there as if you’d start spurting blood, face utterly pale.

-”But… Won’t you like… Bleed out or something?” he asks in utter concern.

-You have to try so hard to not laugh at him. Please set him down and borrow one of the Apollo kids books on the subject.

-He will 100% be staring in utter horror as if you’re explaining to him how to commit murder but he’s at least listening.

-He has a new respect for women now and to be honest he’ll be a bit scared of them for a while.

-He’ll go to the other girls of Argo ll to make sure that you weren’t just messing with him.

~Masterlist & Rules~

Like my writing? Please consider sending me a Ko-fi! ☕

#pjo x reader #pjo x reader fluff #pjo #hoo #leo valdez x reader #frank zhang x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace x reader #fluff #pjo fluff

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demonicbaby666 · 9 months

Note

Can i pls request, Reader and JJ are arguing, Reader confesses her feelings in the heat of the moment, and JJ kisses her. (Jennifer Jareau x reader)

Flirt

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and bit of angst

Words: 4k+

Warnings: swearing and that’s about it

Summary: You and Emily flirt. It’s never amounted to anything and you’re more than happy about that because it’s all fun and games. Though everyone on the team seems to enjoy the laughs that come from all the interactions the two of you share, one person has never seemed that amused. JJ.

A/n: I’m not sure if this is the vibe you wanted but I hope you enjoy nevertheless! <3

It’s standard, expected even. Friends flirt, and it’s an unspoken agreement, but very much known, it’s all fun and games. The fact that Morgan and Garcia had subjected the whole department to a workplace seminar on appropriate work etiquette - chocolate thunder is not nearly heard as much these days - made you feel a hell of a lot better about the one-liners you and Emily throw at each other on a daily/hourly basis.

The work-wives dynamic you have going isn’t just fun. In truth, it makes workdays easier. The heavy loads brought on by cases take their toll on everyone, and, it’s fair to say, a laugh never hurts. No one on the team minds, well, almost everyone. Hotch, Morgan, Rossi and even Spencer all laugh along, encouraging nicknames, adopting them at times, but not JJ.

She’s never outwardly said anything. Then again, she never needs to. It doesn’t go unnoticed that she never laughs, smiles, or gets involved in the flirtatious banter you and Emily have. At first, it was easy to push aside and ignore, but after around four months of cheeky remarks from Emily and yourself and six months of working with the team, it’s hard not to pick up on the less-than-subtle eye rolls and disdain.

When the two of you are alone, it’s okay. It’s nice. You’ll joke, and now and then, she’ll throw around a particular comment that’ll make you blush, and it’s something you do in return. It remains a rarity, though. And you’re glad for it. Not because you don’t like JJ in that way. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. When JJ compliments you, you feel it all over your body, and you’re sure she sees it. It’s not nothing, and that’s dangerous in a place where workplace relationships are more of a no-no than a yes-yes.

In the office, no matter how hard you try to avoid her, you always bump into her, sometimes quite literally. The coffee you spilt on her white shirt you can still smell. It’s a fond memory, which is unexpected, but that’s only because the moment JJ looked at you, her lips curled up at the sides, and you’d both burst into fits of laughter before she asked to borrow a top from your go bag, a top you’d yet to get back, you never ask though.

JJ mainly keeps to her office, buried in mountains of paperwork. The few times she ventures out to talk to Hotch or visit Garcia, and you happen to run into her, it usually results in you stammering and sounding like a complete idiot, your words running away from you. It’s astonishing how easy it comes to you with Emily and with JJ, nothing. How it is you have blossoming feelings for JJ and can barely function and would sooner hit Emily over the head with a frying pan than kiss her - though you know she certainly wouldn’t disappoint - and can charm her to your wit's end, you don’t know. You know for sure that it’s inconceivably and utterly torturous.

“Hey, short stack,” Emily calls out when you're in her eye line. She’s carrying what is probably, her third coffee of the morning, if not her fourth or fifth, judging by the pep in her step at 9 am. She drifts towards your desk, wafting memories of laughter through rising steam.

“Where’s mine?” You nod to the mug in her hand and try to avoid yawning.

It’s a joke, and maybe it’s the early morning, or the caffeine has fried her brain, but Emily doesn't register that. She looks down at her coffee, back at you, repeats the process another two times, and then unceremoniously shoves the piping hot brown beverage at you. It spills over the rim, she hisses, and you chuckle. Compassion doesn’t come easy when you’re uncaffeinated and sleep deprived.

“Nuh-uh. That has enough sweetener in it to kill a small child.”

“Good thing you only act like a child then,” she playfully jabs, still holding out the coffee. It’s a generous offer, spur of the moment offer, but generous nonetheless.

Alas, you decline. Dropping your bags and shaking your head from side to side, you let out an amused sigh, “I’ll make my own love.”

The coffee machine isn’t far, and it’s non-negligible that you’re in dire need of caffeine, so you start walking over, assuming Emily is following close behind as usual. “Do we have a case?” you don’t bother turning, knowing she’ll be craning over your shoulder any second.

“Yup.” It’s not Emily, though, “I’ll be coming with you guys on this one.”

Turning slowly, you smile at JJ. With her sudden presence still registering, you don’t even want to think about how forced your smile may appear, even if it is genuine, “It’ll be good to have you around.”

She steps closer to grab a stirrer, and you ignore the tension working its way down your spine.

“It'll be nice to be around.” she smiles, and your knees go weak. There's something about her smile. Big, small, soft, forced, it’s never mattered. Every time your legs become jelly, and your heart beats faster.

It's a mystery how she has this much effect on you after six months. It's like the whole world goes hazy. All that matters is JJ, then before you know it, words aren't wording, and you're not, well, you-ing.

You’re saved by Hotch catching your eye as he darts from his office to the briefing room. He waves a file, and the team makes their way over. You try not to stare at JJ walking in front of you. Her hair’s swaying, and if you don't avert your gaze, she's sure to turn around and catch you. There's a little voice inside you. It's telling you not to look away because if she does turn around, you'll see those eyes again, and your tummy will do that weird flippy thing that you'd only ever admit to yourself you've grown to love.

Pull yourself together! You scream to the insipid voice in your head.

You manage to look away. Appreciate the clarity of not being lovesick for two seconds before Emily swoops in, loops her arm through yours and forcibly skips you both into the room. It gets a chuckle from the team, and you glance at JJ to see she’s already got her head down, looking through the case file. She shuffles in her chair, you can only assume sensing your leering eyes, and without raising her head, she looks at you through her lashes.

There's nothing remarkable about how she looks at you; it’s rather ordinary, which motivates you to sigh and slump down on the nearest seat available. Everyone grabs a case file, and you spend that time contemplating who’s feeling more deflated, you or the indented cushion beneath you that is teetering on the brink of death.

It takes a particular type of subtly and poise to mask your rising self-pity, the likes of which you can only hope you possess. Around the table, everyone is listening to JJ, and you ought to do the same. It’s choosing the lesser of two evils, you either focus on what JJ is saying and risk looking like you’ve just been gut punched, or stare blankly into the space between JJ and the projector and come off as a well-rounded put together human.

The latter worms its way on top, the main victory point being that it’ll result in fewer questions asked. Through the garbling, a few words make sense, it’s enough to piece together, and you’re sure time on the jet will equip you with all you need to know.

“Wheels up in twenty.” That, you register.

You’re standing, then you’re walking, then you’re in an SUV, and someone’s talking next to you or, rather, at you. It’s hard to mind, though. Emily makes good background noise, and she seems to drown out the looming thoughts, leaving you to the blur of people and buildings passing by.

Footsteps soon reach your ears. Rossi’s perfectly polished shoes smack against concrete, then metal, as he ascends the stairs to the jet. You know you should get out; your legs, however, ignore this. Emily pulls the keys out and opens her door. Any second, she’ll pick up on your hesitance, and it’s game over. For the duration of the next two days, knowing her, she’ll be on the lookout for any suspicious activity regarding your behaviour if you don’t start moving.

So you move.

Following Emily, the hairs on your neck tingle, and a shiver runs down your spine, despite the warm spring breeze. The signs point to someone looking at you. Turning, you see JJ and Reid walking behind you, neither looking anywhere in your vicinity. JJ seems suspiciously interested in the jet's exterior. Nothing to call home about, though. In her defence, whenever anyone speaks to Reid, they find it hard not to let their mind wander, no matter how hard they are listening.

Nothing outside of the usual occurs when you get on the jet. You sit across from Emily as she slumps down on the first seat available by the front of the plane. It's not that you don't contemplate sitting anywhere else. Who are you kidding? It's not like you don't consider sitting next to JJ, but with all the awkwardness - self-perceived or very much real - you can't stomach the thought of infringing on her and precipitating another chance for you to make an idiot of yourself.

Chancing a look back at JJ, there's the faintest slither of disappointment that comes with watching her haphazardly throw her bag on the chair next to her. It’s unlike JJ to be so indirectly direct in deterring physical closeness.

It’s twenty minutes into the flight, and you and Emily are at it again. In both of your defences’, it wasn’t unsolicited. On the stand, you’d confidently plead you were rabbit holed into discussing how many times you’d had to pretend to act like a couple to deter leering men away, and on top of that, describe, in detail, how you’d mastered the fine art of always getting away with it. Apparently, small talk isn't a thing anymore.

It's been ten minutes of this, and you need to relieve yourself before the next onslaught of laughter results in a change of trousers. You nudge Emily, let her know you'll be right back and turn to head to the back of the jet.

It seems the new norm; whenever an opportunity to glance at JJ’s appears, you take it. Maybe it’s that you’re only just picking up on the habit, something to think about for the duration of the flight, perhaps.

JJ has scarcely moved, one knee up, head turned, eyes out the window. The bag remains unscathed, sitting idly and just as lonesome as the blonde. It's out of respect, for the booming thoughts going through JJ’s head and the physical presence of an ‘I don’t want company’ sign, you stay on your path. However, when you return, her bag is gone, her knee is down, and her attention draws to the direction of the toilet door closing.

The empty seat is beckoning you, calling to you, and though you have enough willpower to return to your own and pretend you haven’t seen anything, laugh about stupid late drunken nights, you choose to save the willpower for a rainy day and sit next to JJ instead.

“Hey,” it’s light, friendly and casual. Smashed it.

Blonde hair, partially bathed in unfiltered sunlight, glides over toned shoulders, and your stomach lurches. “Hey there,” she says. There’s a smile present that’s timid and, for some reason, making you feel a little uneasy because usually, JJ’s smile reaches her eyes, and this one doesn't. The blue orbs are illuminated only by the balmy glow slithering in through the window, and though they’re still as breathtaking as ever, there’s a sadness in acknowledging what’s not there that you can’t seem to shake. “You okay?”

A few seconds, a full minute? You don’t know how long you’ve been staring.

“Uhhh… ya, sorry,” you stammer over your words. There’s a curious look in her eyes, and her eyebrows knit together, “Tired, that’s all. I must have zoned out a little.”

The fingers lying over her knee twitch, and she inches forwards. There’s a split-second thought that maybe she’ll let them run their wanted course, seeking to provide some comfort by brushing over your arm or leg. They remain in her lap.

She’s touring your face, and it's hard to stay impassive when you’re starting to feel more self-conscious than a preschooler entering the lunch hall for the first time. There may as well be turbulence because your body is acting accordingly. You fidget. The paws of your fingers rub over the lines of your palms.

“Are you sleeping?” She’s settled on staring into the dark expanse of your under-eye circles that are half-hidden under shitty concealer.

The worry in her eyes that continuously search your face for an answer to her question is starting to drive you mad. You shrug and turn, relieved that the sinking in your stomach is less vomit-inducing, “Not really, but I manage,” you mutter, eyes wandering over the coffee pot and idle mug.

Whether she believes you is up for debate. A cold chill runs down your arms, and you can tell she’s still staring. A weight suddenly falls on your thigh. With enough speed to snap your neck, you turn.

It’s on fire. You’re sure that your thigh is about to burst into flames, along with your scorching cheeks. No. Your whole body is on fire because JJ’s smiling at you again, and her eyes have stopped searching for evidence of lack of sleep, and they are brighter, gentler and more compassionate.

“This is prime napping time,” she says suggestively.

“Tempting.” you chuckle, or more accurately choke out, shaking your head and paying attention to her hand now moving in circles. Yes. You’re sure. You are on fire. Scorching burning molten lava is slowly replacing the blood coursing through your veins, and you’re going to die on this plane.

Your eyes aren’t the only pair on JJ’s hand placement. As you lift your gaze, JJ’s flickers up too a moment later. Her smile hasn’t faltered. In fact, it may have even grown wider. But you aren’t sure because, at this point, you’re convinced this is all a hallucination.

Finally, she removes her hand to tap her shoulder, “I’m pretty comfy, you know.”

It’s baiting a child with candy, and it’s working. “Well…” you lower your head to the side, and you rest it on JJ’s shoulder, smiling at how easily and perfectly you fit together, “I’ll test that theory out and get back to you.” The end of the sentence is partially yawned out, sleep already weighing heavy on your eyelids.

Sleep hasn't come easy to you over the last week, and it’s a curious thing to ponder upon that JJ is the answer, yet, also part of the problem. Plaguing your mind with her incomparable beauty and so forth. For now, you were too delirious from waking up from the best nap you’d had in… forever…

It isn't hard to admit that JJ was right, she’s inexplicably comfy, more comfortable than your bed, but the brain fog that accompanies your light sensitivity, forcing your eyes closed again, has rendered you incapable of communicating that intelligently.

“I wish I could sleep on you every night.” you sleepily slur, nodding right back off to sleep.

It’s two seconds for you and twenty-three minutes for everyone else. You wake up, jolting your body upright. The words you’d said are still fresh on your lips.

“I-” turning to JJ, dread starts to set in. She’s got the most shit-eating grin on her face that she’s trying to cover with the palm of her hand, and if you weren’t morbidly embarrassed, you might have considered punching her.

She’s snickering now, her hands thrown up in mock surrender. “Theory proven.”

If looks could kill, she’d be stone-cold by now. The worst part is none of this is necessarily her fault, and you know it. She only tugged at a loose string you easily guided her to. Yes, it was pointed out to her in a state of delirium, but that is on your head.

“Bedhead,” JJ coughs, the sun hitting the side of her face angelically.

Pursing your lips and keeping your accusatory gaze fixated on her, you comb your finger through your hair. “Now you're just trying to get a rise out of me,” you grumble.

“Pfff,” she rolls her eyes, smirks, then looks at the papers scattered across the table, “You’re cute when you’re sleeping. Drool and all.”

She’s so fucking smug that part of you dies as a wicked, treacherous girly smile forces the sides of your lips to twitch. “I'm leaving now.”

You drop down across from Emily. She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, then at Reid and Morgan, thinking they might have some insight.

“I need a new mattress,” you huff before looking out the window for the rest of the fight, leaving Emily more confused than when you’d first sat down.

~~~

“Emily, you already know who you’re with,” Hotch smirks, “You both head to the crime scene.”

“God forbid they’re separated,” Rossi lightheartedly quips.

“Oh god,” Morgan sighs, a second too late to warn you.

Emily’s behind you. Her fingers come to your shoulder and dig in almost painfully, “My precious,” she says with her best Gollum impression, then hisses because you’ve delivered a swift elbow to her rips.

She relaxes her grip on you, and while everyone laughs at the idiocy displayed, you mockingly pout at her, “Want me to kiss it better?”

She smirks, “Save it for later,” she slaps your arm and starts walking towards the car, “Come on, let’s get going.”

From the passenger seat window, you see the team, and it’s the same old. Everyone’s dispersing, still smiling and relishing in the small break they got from the morbidity of the job, even if it was only for a minute, except, of course, one person. She’s looking off distantly again, fingers thrumming against her thigh, bottom lip between her teeth, and mindlessly nodding at something Hotch says.

Emily hits the gas, JJ becomes a moving blur, and then she’s gone.

About an hour later, you and Emily are walking into the precinct. Everyone’s heads turn as you both walk in, bickering.

“What's happened now?” Reid asks.

You shove your finger in Emily's direction, “She wouldn't let me drive.”

“Because you're a maniac behind the wheel,” Emily tries to reason.

“And you’re a spoilsport,” you grumble, sitting on a free seat between JJ and Morgan.

“I swear, sometimes you're like an old married couple, the two of you,” Garcia remarks over the phone and nods scatter around the room.

“Excuse me,” JJ stands up and leaves abruptly.

There’s a split-second choice to make, compliantly sit back, as you’ve been doing for weeks, or get up and find out what’s going on with JJ.

It takes looking at the team's faces to realise that if you don’t go, someone else will. Maybe it’s selfish. You know you’re probably not the person she wants to see, and deep down, you know she’s angry, and she’ll lash out. But maybe she’ll reveal the truth despite her rage, and that’s motivation enough to get up and chase after her.

“JJ! Wait up!” You call after her, picking up a light jog, your laden footsteps echoing in the small corridor.

She turns a corner and slips out a side door, likely under the assumption you don’t see her. When you open the door, a small side alley comes into view, and then you notice JJ with her back resting against a wall. She looks utterly defeated, but there’s a resting fire there that you see when she looks up at you.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You walk towards her.

Wearing that distant look again, she says, “It’s the case,” it’s so painfully obvious it’s a lie you can’t stop your brow from rising. She notices and rolls her eyes, “What?”

“Oh, come on, JJ. We both know it’s not the case,” you lean against the wall, turning to the side to look at her. She peers out into the alleyway, “You’ve been acting off all week.”

“We don’t have time for this,” she huffs, pushing herself off the wall. She’s probably right, but there’s no point in either of you going back inside when there’s a big chance your minds will dwell on this interaction.

You reach out and wrap your hand around her wrist, “JJ, talk to me.”

“Will you just drop it!” She yells, yanking her arm away.

“What's your problem?!” you’re sure people can hear you from inside, but the heat is rising within you, and JJ’s bringing it out more and more with her pointed glare.

“What the hell is your problem?!” She sneers.

“Really, JJ?”

“Yes.” she crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows expectantly, enough to push you over the tipping point.

“You know what,” you start, stepping forward, “You are! You’re my problem, JJ.”

“Oh.” She drops her arms down, and there’s a flash of hurt flickering over her features that’s not quite settling but not entirely leaving either.

You let out a heavy breath, “That’s not-”

“Forget it.” she steps away, and it’s infuriating because you’re being stripped of the opportunity to explain, and even if you don’t know what you’re going to say, she’s not giving a chance to think.

And now It’s late to stop yourself, the words are coming out without your consent, and there’s nothing left for you to do, “I like you!” you blurt out.

JJ turns on her heels. Her mouth is hanging open, “What?”

“I like you,” you say, this time a little quieter.

It’s a shock that she’s surprised, given that you have been under the impression you’ve been indisputably evident with your affections towards her.

“Honestly, I thought it was obvious.” You channel your inner voice, it’s small and meek, and you’re not pleased with the fragility of your voice, so you lower your gaze to your feet. A small rock takes your interest whilst you wait for the inevitable sound of JJ’s footsteps fading away.

Instead, they grow louder until the small rock is joined by a pair of black boots and a finger presses to your chin, forcing your head up. Then she kisses you.

It’s light, her lips brushing languishingly against yours, willing you to match their slow rhythm. It takes a few seconds, and you’re back in your body. You part your lips, letting the warmth of JJ engulf you. The kiss is slow and passionate. JJ moves her hands to your waist, pulling you closer against her and a sudden hunger grows low in your stomach, promoting you to nibble at her lower lip.

Your hands are on her shoulders, and she’s moving forward where there’s nowhere to go. You’re only aware you’re moving when you feel the cold surface of brick hitting your back.

A groan tumbles from your mouth, and JJ takes the opportunity to plunge her tongue in. It’s all teeth and tongues from there. You’re both panting and taking in gulps of air where you can, yet still refusing to unfurl yourselves from one another.

Eventually, the need for oxygen mounts to an all-time high, and you pull back, resting your head against the wall as JJ peppers kisses along your jawline.

“How did you not see?” you say between soft moans.

“I’m not a profiler,” JJ mumbles into your neck. She lifts her head, and you see her eyes are shimmering with humour.

“You’re also not blind.” you smugly point out.

“Neither are you.” She smirks.

A few seconds are spent simply smiling sweetly and dotingly at one another, eyes darting to and from eyes to lips. Then you’re kissing again, and the alleyway and the world seem to fade away, leaving only you and JJ.

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