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allbark-no-bite · 17 hours

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good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

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You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction.

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x y/n #challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson smut #challengers imagine #challengers x reader

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mopopshop · 1 day

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Hi!!! Im genuinely OBSESSED w ur writing like 😫😫 I was just wondering if you could write something (could be a fic or hc) about emily and the reader going through their pregnancy journey? I can't stop thinking about emily as a mom 😭 Thank you so much!! ❤️❤️

Emily as a Mama!!

when you first told her you were pregnant she couldn’t help but tell anyone in a 5 mile radius

she’s so attentive, waiting on you hand and foot

she definitely does the thing where she stands behind you and lifts your belly to ease the weight

she doesn’t alert her fans or the media until you physically have the baby (even though people speculate) and it’s like the gag of the century when she posts on her ig a pic of a newborn 😭😭

sits and talks to the bump for hours and hours at a time, even if you’re asleep she’ll just sit there retelling like the plot of a show or something

it becomes a habit of hers to constantly have her hand on your belly just rubbing the bump

constantly reassuring you when you feel insecure and hormonal

the thought of your cravings make her genuinely gag but she never shamed you for having weird ones

definitely a girl mom (just thinking about when she was coaching youth girls basketball 🙈)

she sits and watches little youtube and tiktok tutorials for unique hairstyles for her

was always the first one up in the newborn stage to help change diapers or put her back to bed

giving in to any and everything that they ask for, she doesn’t even pretend to say no she just immediately gives in

you always yell at her for that bcs she stay spoiling them😭😭

can’t stand the “let them cry” rule and will actually tear up at the sound of her baby being upset

“Emily put her down” you say trying to be stern.

She pouts, whining “Nooo, whyy…” Emily shoves her face into your baby girls neck as she continues to cry “you’re so mean to her”

“Mean how? She needs to learn how to self soothe” you chuckle

“The fuck does she need to self soothe for if she’s got me”

Seeing Emily so protective and motherly over your child makes your heart sing and your face crack with a smile “You spoil her too much, Em”

“And I will continue to do as such”

hailey appoints herself as the go to babysitter and never complains, she’s literally the best aunt

em loves to bring her to practice and the team MELTS over her

they’re constantly showering you two and the baby with gifts

they give her a little baby mystics jersey

imagine team media day with emily and your daughter like they did with Katie on indiana fever ☹️☹️💕🫶🏾 example 1

the makeovers 😖 messy makeup, half painted nails, glitter in her hair and a tiara she loves it all

gets a new tattoo with your baby’s name on it

she’s very clear on separating basketball and her family, she does everything i her power to not let her career get in the way of spending time with you or the baby

seriously so torn up about it if you and the baby can’t make away/international games

will call every night to see you two and she gets so sad when she has to hang up

“mama misses you so much, baby” 💔💔

bringing you up in every interview

“if it wasn’t for my beautiful wife and daughter I don’t know where I’d be”

is that player who brings her kid to post game interviews

has her on her lap the whole time and there’s so many cute moments of baby girl just babbling and grabbing stuff

she definitely spoils your kids but she knows when to turn it on and off, shes never unfair with discipline and she absolutely never lays a hand on them

always posting little videos and pictures on social media bcs she loves to brag

would never force her kid into basketball, only encourage it if she ever decided to take interest

just the best mom and constantly talks about how motherhood has changed her for the better

also THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY WRITING TWIN i really appreciate all the love 💕💕

#women’s basketball #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa #wlw #wnba #emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler headcannons

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jennifer-jeong · 2 days

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please kaeya smut fanfic female reader 🙏

U and him 7minutes in heaven 👹

I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON FJDKAL;FJDSA; THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST AND I HOPE YOU LIKE WHAT I DID WITH IT >:) I really wanted to make it detailed because I love Kaeya and I haven’t written this concept before but I’ve read so many fics like it and I adore it. It turned out much longer than I anticipated but I enjoyed writing it and I hope you all enjoy!

[Smut] [Kaeya Alberich x AFAB!Reader] 7 Minutes in Heaven

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, assigned female at birth (AFAB) reader, feminine reader implied, drinking/alcohol consumption, mutual pining, kissing, hickeys, biting, nipple play, blowjob, fingering, vaginal penetration, clit play, creampie, fluffy confession!, spending the night and cuddling hehe, college AU, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

Word Count: 3797

Exam season is coming up but you and your friends thought it’d be good to unwind a bit and take a break from studying by going to a house party. You’re all mutual with the hosts, Kaeya and Diluc. You’re good friends with the two brothers and of course you’re always invited to their “little” house parties. It always turns out to be something like 100 people but their house is big enough that it holds you all comfortably really.

You and your friends pregame a bit and get dolled up to enjoy the party. When you get there, you text Kaeya but as you start typing, a familiar presence appears in front of you along with the warm smell of cologne filling your head.

“Hey! You made it,” the blue haired man chirps at you with a smile.

“Yeah, figured it’d be a good break from studying. I think we all deserve it,” you chuckle while giving Kaeya a comforting look. Letting him know that he also deserves a break from working so hard.

“I’ll drink to that. Let's get you something.” Mr. Eyepatch says as he turns to let you walk in front of him, his hand hovering over the small of your back, something you pretend to not notice. Similarly, he pretends to not see the slight flush on the tip of your ears.

You’re enjoying the bustle, music, and dancing with your friends when you catch Diluc rolling his eyes at Kaeya. You go to check out what the brothers are yapping about this time when Kaeya perks up upon seeing you.

“Hey! Perfect. Come with me,” Kaeya yells over the music as he grabs you by the wrist past Diluc who you share a concerned smile with.

“We needed one more but that dickhead didn’t wanna join,” he says while smiling and obviously meaning it in an affectionate way towards his beloved brother.

You raise an eyebrow at him until you see the small congregation of roughly a dozen people sitting in a circle spinning a bottle.

You’re tipsy but sitting next to Kaeya, unsure of what the bottle means, sobers you up a bit. Before you even get to question what the reward or punishment is for the bottle landing on you, the open top of the bottle points to you. Kaeya makes a silly shocked face at you while your face burns, he motions to tell you to spin the bottle and before you know it, it feels like the room is silent despite the blaring music and the bottle stops just left of you. Kaeya was to the left of you. You stare at it for a few seconds before a wave of emotion washes over you. Was it fear? Excitement? Dread? Lust?

You didn’t really have time to think. The group gives a collective “oooooooo” before a few of them shove you and Kaeya into a closet down the hall and lock you inside.

“7 minutes, lovebirds!” You hear before the door closes, unable to even make out who it was.

If you hadn’t sobered up enough already, you were basically stone cold sober now.

You could just barely make out Kaeya’s face in the low light peeking in through the bottom of the door. The closet just barely fit you two, it was maybe 1 m by 1 m at most. Your senses come back to you and you realize you’re smelling Kaeya’s scent again. He always smells so good, it’s a musky but sweet scent that mixes with the smell of his skin so sinfully. You hear your mixed breaths, you’re both breathing harder than usual and you swear you can hear each other's heartbeats. The closet is stuffy, the house is already hot from being jam packed with bodies and the closet having barely any airflow isn’t helping. It feels like an eternity as you take in your surroundings but it’s only been a few seconds since the door shut.

Kaeya is pressed against the wall opposite to you, trying to give you as much space as he can in the minimal space.

You blink a few times as you part your lips to speak but nothing comes out.

Kaeya breaks the silence first.

“Uhh… Heyyy…?” He says, meaning for it to be ironically flirty, but it comes out sheepishly.

You both pause for half a second before bursting out in giggles.

“I’m sorry, we really don’t have to do anything, I was just teasing,” he says confidently but you can tell he’s a bit nervous by the way he swallows hard.

“Don’t apologize,” you giggle at his mild embarrassment. “I’m at least glad it’s you in here with me,” you say as your face burns.

“Oh?” He says as his shock slowly turns into a smirk. The air suddenly felt impossibly hotter, the closet was infinitely smaller, and your senses went into overdrive.“You’re glad?”

Your eyes dart around, looking away and then back at him. “Y-you heard me,” you stutter, trying to salvage your confidence.

He takes a step forward to close the already non existent space between you two.

You hold your breath as you look slightly upwards at the taller man, caging you against the wall with his frame.

You don’t notice but his hands are shaky at his sides. He takes a leap of faith though and reaches his hand up to hook a finger under your chin, keeping you looking at him.

You hear his breathing speed up as your heart pounds in your ears. You’ve known Kaeya for a few years now and of course you’ve always had a small crush on him but you never wanted to risk losing your friendship by taking things further. Little did you know, he felt the same.

Your palms press into the narrow wall behind you as you flatten yourself against it. Kaeya leans in, his thumb sliding across your jaw, as he moves towards your right ear. Goosebumps already popping up all over your body.

“So… Do I have your permission to make you… even more glad? He speaks in a husky voice you’ve never heard before and it makes your body burn.

He finds amusement in the slight panic you have in your eyes but his mind is racing. He’s anxious, turned on, bashful, terrified, burning, and he knows that you’re both the poison and the antidote.

You lightly nod your head quickly in response, he sees it, but knows you’ve been drinking tonight.

“Needa hear you say it darling.”

“Please… Kaeya… I want this, I want you”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath.

He’s teetering on the edge of losing his self control. He grabs your face with both hands, and moves in to kiss you but the last bit of his sanity needs to ask you for consent even if you already just gave it to him.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, his vodka and cranberry juice scented breath hitting your face from how close he is.

You barely hesitate to bring your hands up to cup his face as well and slam your lips onto his. His lips are soft as they move against yours. Your mind is in overdrive, sparks flying as you realize you’re kissing Kaeya. You’d be lying if you said you never thought about doing this. But actually doing it feels absolutely amazing.

He pushes you against the wall after his initial shock of you making your move wears off. His eyes were wide open until he realized you were kissing him. Now his eyes are squeezed shut, enjoying the taste of your sweet saliva as it sends blood straight to his dick. At this point you’re already soaked. A damp patch is most definitely visible on your panties and heat is pooled at your core.

You make another bold move to lick your tongue across Kaeya’s bottom lip, asking him for access to his tongue. He happily obliges as your tongues greet each other, the sliding and contact making you both moan into each other's mouths. Your tongues dance as they circle around each other. Fuck. He was a good kisser.

Kaeya presses closer to you to deepen the kiss and he realizes he feels your breasts now pressed up to him and it feels heavenly. He loves it. It makes him reach his hands down to cup one in each hand. It makes you whimper into the kiss.

Hands find their way up your shirt, under your bra. He pulls away to help you take off your shirt as he admires your lacy bra.

“Fuck, I’ve needed y’so bad… You don’t even know.” He says, words dripping with lust.

You slip the straps of your bra off your shoulders as he kneads your tits.

“Maybe…” You start, as you reach behind to unclip your bra. He lets go for a second, allowing it to fall to the floor. He freezes momentarily as he takes in the sight of your bare chest. You slide your hands down from the top of his chest, nails lightly scratching over his shirt.

I do know…” You finish as you palm over his obvious hard on through his pants.

He looks down as he moans. His lips are immediately on yours again as he starts playing with your perky nipples. You continue to feel his length through the fabric, your cunt clenching around nothing as you feel how fucking big he is.

He starts kissing down your neck, lightly sucking as he makes his way to your chest. He slurs as he speaks. “Needed ya since I first laid eyes on you.” He takes a nipple in his mouth and swirls his tongue around, making you throw your head back with a moan. He looks up at you with his uncovered eye so he can see the pretty and lewd expression you’re making. You hold eye contact with him and you swear he’s going to be the death of you.

Soon after, you plop down onto your knees, undoing his pants as you look up at him. He groans as you finally free his cock from the confines of his pants. You pump his length a few times with your hand then you flatten your tongue on the base of the underside of his dick, dragging your tongue up the entire length. Kaeya’s hands slam against the walls to the side of him to find some sort of purchase. He groans loud as you continue to lick stripes on his already leaky cock.

You decide to tease him a bit by taking your sweet time, avoiding putting your lips around the tip on purpose. He wants to protest but it already feels so fucking good and he’s honestly already close. He knows that if he felt your throat around him right now, he’d cum. So he lets you continue your shenanigans.

“F-fuck, feels s’good princess,” he groans out. You give him a small “yeah?” while your lips are dragging along his length and the vibration shoots up his spine. He tries to calm himself down and distracts himself with holding back your hair, collecting it into a ponytail behind you.

After a minute or so of teasing the poor man, he’s gotten impatient. He pulls your hair tighter and it makes you moan and you know it’s about time.

“You look so pretty on your knees baby. Open up f’me, please…”

You grab the base with your hand and swirl your tongue around his tip, enjoying his slightly bitter but sweet precum. Kaeya exhales, taking in the change in sensation. He was holding back bucking his hips into your mouth because it felt so good. He was so fucking sensitive because of you and how much you turned him on..

You started to slowly ease him into your mouth. Pushing down, pulling up, and pushing down even further. As you finally sink down fully, deepthroating him, you keep eye contact with him. He’s a nervous but brave mess. His face is flushed and his bangs are messy and stuck to his forehead. You hold yourself there until you pull all the way back so you can breathe. Kaeya lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding but you don’t give him time to relax. You start bobbing your head on his length, your hand covering any parts of the base too difficult for you to reach with your mouth.

“A-ah! Sh-shit!” He moans as you continue your pace. It was so warm and intense for him and as much as you might’ve suspected Kaeya to be a player with dozens of bodies, you were pretty sure he wasn’t super into that, which would explain how sensitive he was with you right now. Honestly, you found it cute and hot, it turned you on knowing how good you were making him feel. Only you, no one else.

You fully deepthroat him again, and he holds you there by your hair, throwing his head back from the pleasure. When you pull off, he pulls you back even further so he can scoop you up and stand you up again. He properly takes his pants off to push your bodies towards the wall. You moan from the way he’s almost manhandling you. He grabs your right leg to hook it up, giving his hand access to your pussy. He rubs around your clit and dips down to circle your entrance before repeating the motion, earning moans from you.

“Such a good girl, making me feel s’good,” he says while kissing your neck. “Gonna make you feel good now m’kay? You deserve it… Wanna feel you cum on me baby.” After his sentence his mouth latches onto the sweet spot on your neck and he bites down as he sucks a hickey onto you. Your eyes roll back into your head as he slowly sinks two fingers into your aching cunt as he sucks on your neck.

“Mmph! K-Kaeya-... ah~!” You whimper out as he starts pumping his digits in and out of you, making a “come here” motion with his fingers.

“Mm? This is the spot right? This little spongey part?” He says as he stops pulling his fingers out to just massage the spot as you clench on him, only able to moan in response. “Ahh, I thought so” he says with a low chuckle, his eyes lidded.

Your hands tangle in Kaeya hair as you pull him to your lips, kissing him sloppily as he fingers you. His thumb now playing with your clit while two fingers toy with your insides.

Your core starts to tighten and you realize you’re close. Fuck, he knew exactly how to make you cum and somehow that was turning you on more. You pull back from the kiss to look him in the eyes.

“Kaeya… p-please… Please fuck me,” you say between breaths.

Your flustered face, your scent, his hickey on your neck, your doe eyes looking up at him, and your words send any of the blood in his brain straight to his twitching cock as his breath hitched. He pulls his fingers out of you and grabs the back of your legs to hold you up.

“As you wish princess,” he says with a smirk, clearly drunk off your body.

Your legs wrap around his torso while your arms hold his shoulders, allowing him to line himself up with your entrance. He pops his tip in before returning to holding you so he can slowly ease in.

You simultaneously groan at the feeling as he slowly pushes in. You pull yourself flush against his chest, hugging him and dragging your nails along his chiseled back. His hands are gripping your ass, holding you up but also enjoying holding the plush and spreading you apart however he likes.

When he’s about halfway in, he pulls out to allow your slick to cover his length. WIthout warning he bottoms out in you from all the lubrication you were making for him. You nearly scream and his knees buckle at the sensation and idea that he’s fully sheathed inside you right now. Your nails dig into his skin, leaving indents from how hard you were gripping his back.

“F-fuck, y-you fill me up s’good,” you mewl to him.

“Ngh it’s like we were fucking made for each other, you’re a perfect fit baby.”

He starts to rock back and forth, holding you in place with his hands while he thrusts his hips back and forth. Going slow at first to give you time to adjust. But, already his veiny cock was dragging along all your sensitive spots so devilishly. You felt every inch of him stretch you out and it was so fucking filthy but in the best way possible. You bite onto his shoulder to muffle your moans and to also mark him in return.

He starts to speed up as he feels you twitch around him. “You’re taking me so well darling, you’re doing so good f’me,” he moans out to you.

“Nghh… f-uck, feels s’good,” you slur out to him, mind turning to mush.

“Hold tight pretty girl,” he says as he continues his fast pace.

You throw your head back and it thumps on the wall behind you as you let out a loud moan you barely recognized. It was genuinely reflexive from how good he was making you feel, it was natural that you were going to moan like that if he was going to stimulate you in the best ways.

Your eyes start to roll into the back of your head as he still pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping together now filling the closet from how close and deep he was fucking you.

“Atta girl… let me make you feel good” he says into the crook of your neck.

“K-Kaeya…” you stutter out, borderline delirious from the pleasure. “M’getting c-close.”

“Yeah baby? Gonna make you cum all over me?” He continues his pace as he pulls back to admire you and press a thumb to your clit. Your pretty tits are bouncing with every thrust as you arch your back. You’re looking at him but your eyes are glazed over, tongue lolled out slightly, cock drunk on the man. As he plays with your clit, your walls clench down on him hard as you approach your high. It’s driving him crazy.

“Fuckkk. Mmph- gonna make me cum ngh,” he moans out to you.

Your body is so sensitive at this point and you can’t think about anything other than how good Kaeya is fucking you right now. Your “hah’s” turn into “mmm’s” that rise in pitch as you get closer and closer. You squeeze your eyes shut and let your head fall to the side.

He can feel your twitching and the way your grip on his back almost breaks skin. He knows you’re teetering on the edge with him and so he tells you to go first. “F-fuck, cum for me princess, please.”

You clamp down fully on him as his thumb’s movements become sloppy and his thrusts become irregular. “K-Kaeya!” you nearly yell out as you cum. White hot pleasure runs through your body as he stimulates both your clit and g-spot, even your a-spot as his tip kisses your cervix over and over. The drag of his cock on your gummy walls is driving you crazy as waves rack through your body, perceiving nothing but the intense bliss.

The extra pressure of your walls on his dick, your uncontrolled moans, and just the simple fact that he’s making you cum sends him over the edge with you and he lets you know with a strained “c-cumming!”

You feel hot cum fill you as he gives a last few pumps into you, helping you both ride out your orgasms, he eventually slows as he twitches inside. He holds you close and wraps his arms around your waist as you hug his neck. Both of you finally coming down from your high, breathing hard. Your sweaty bodies skin to skin, enjoying the afterglow and each other’s company.

“Holy… shit” he says between panting as you giggle. He puts you down on your feet, still holding your waist since you were wobbly, your legs shaky. You help him lean his back against the wall, knowing he’s also probably weak in the knees after all that.

You push up against him as you reach a hand up to cup his cheek. “That was pretty amazing,” you giggle before looking away. “Is this… a one time thing though?”

He reacts quickly despite his fatigue and looks you in the eyes, concern evident. “Oh my god no… well, at least I was hoping it wouldn’t be,” he responds honestly, not sure if you were hoping for the same thing.

You close your eyes and exhale, “oh thank god,” you laugh. “I really do like you, so…”

His eyes widen slightly “I like you too,” he says with a chuckle, almost not believing that he’s getting to say this to you right now.

You look into his eye(s) and smile before laying your head onto his chest.

He stays like that with you for a second in disbelief and bliss. Then he reaches for his pants to grab his phone, calling one of the mansion’s attendants to this specific closet, asking for robes.

“Would you like to…” he starts, unsure of himself, “stay the night?... My bed should fit us comfortably.”

“I’d love to, Kaeya. Thank you for asking.” You reply, feeling a tug in your chest at how sweet and bashful he was. Similarly, he feels the same tug in his chest at your saccharine words and pretty smile.

After the attendant hands the robes into the closet and you two cover up, you run to his room hand in hand, giggling as you both try to avoid any party goers, realizing that they completely forgot to get you after 7 minutes, not that either of you are complaining. He requested for your clothes to be brought up after so for now he offered you his pj’s and his bathroom in case you wanted to shower or just to clean up.

Soon after, he invited you into his bed for some cuddles. You’d probably both talk about the serious relationship stuff later but for now, you were both quiet, looking into each other's eyes, holding each other close. The fatigue from drinking and your closet escapade quickly caught up with you two as you relaxed into the plush mattress. You two drifted off into sleep, content in each other's arms and also excited for what the future would hold for you, after you help with party cleanup in the morning of course.

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST<3 ||

#kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich smut #reader x kaeya #j's silly ramblings #my asks <3

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matan4il · 2 days

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I don’t know if you or anyone can really answer this accurately, but are GoFundMes for people living in Gaza trustworthy at all? or even trustworthy on a case by case basis? a musician I like (Maisie Peters) shared several today, with “help (these families) move out of Rafah,” and it gave me pause because I wholly believe in helping people who need it, but how can we possibly know if that contribution will go to the worthwhile places and families who need it? so much aid is being stolen by Hamas and UNRWA even still, and I have no idea how well researched any of those individual fundraisers are. I’m sure people mean well but it seems like there must be a more reliable option?

Hi Nonnie!

You're so right to be doubtful. Every humanitarian crisis brings with it a bunch of scams, but when we talk about a situation where there can be terrorists getting the aid, I think being cautious with people asking for money is extra justified. I'm glad you already know about the theft of humanitarian aid in Gaza, and are being careful.

First, I will say that the ones setting money to get people out of Gaza completely are very suspect to me. Especially now. Egypt has not only been extremely reluctant to take in refugees from Gaza, even on a temporary basis (for historic reason I won't get into, and which have little to do with "preventing ethnic cleansing"), they've doubled down on closing their border with Gaza to the point of not even allowing humanitarian aid in through their border anymore. Even before this recent development, they were only allowing in medical cases. We do know some people, related to Hamas, got out of Gaza, likely by pretending to be a medical case. This would suggest that maybe, up until the recent Egyptian crackdown, there was a way to bribe some Egyptian personnel to look the other way, and pretend regular people were medical cases, but it would take substantial amounts of money, and would be limited in how many could actually get through that way. In essence, you had no way of knowing who legitimately would take your money and use it to get out of Gaza, and who would just take your money, and do with it God only knows what. At best, just keep it to themselves, at worst use it for terrorist purposes. There is NO WAY for people outside the region to be able to check how the money will be used, or if any of the claims made by a campaign runner are legit, so anyone telling you, "This is safe, it's been vetted!" is either fooling you, or is being fooled themselves.

Inside Gaza, people don't actually need money to get out of Rafah. They can just... move out. Israel has already set up an improvised shelter city within walking distance from Rafah, it also already allows evacuation to other safe parts of south Gaza, and we know that hundreds of thousands of Palestinians have already moved out of Rafah and away from the zones designated for military action. And this costs nothing. Especially with humanitarian aid being poured non-stop into Gaza, including temporary shelters. Are those great? No. But if the goal is to get out of Rafah, it's possible to do that without paying a dime.

Bottom line, I'm not saying every fundraising campaign is untrustworthy, I'm saying that there is no way to know which one is and which one isn't, and that I personally wouldn't donate to any, because I wouldn't want my money to go to terrorist activities no matter what, and when I know that people do have alternatives and can get by, even if they don't get my donations, I'd rather be safe than sorry, meaning having to live with the possibility that my money directly got someone murdered.

I hope this helps! Take care! xoxox

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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slutforelliealways · 6 hours

Text

Let me go.

A mysterious girl who somehow always comes to the rescue when your boyfriend Darren screws up. What's her motive?

"You good?"

You look up from the ground to find Ellie Williams beside you, "yeah."

"I don't mean to pry, but shit seemed to get real in there. Just wanted to make sure you're straight," she was puffing on a joint and held it out for you, "where are my manners. You want some?"

"Can I help you with something?"

She smirks, "you could have just said no thank you."

"No thank you," you say as you walk past her and back into the party. "Has anyone seen Darren?" You shout over the crowd of sweaty people.

"I think he was in the bathroom the last time I saw him!" A drunk girl slurred.

You nod a thank you at her and head to the upstairs bathroom, "Darren! I'm not done talking to you!" You'd been seeing Darren on and off for around three years, it started freshman year of college and moved quickly downhill from there. He was a typical artist type douchebag, wooed you with a guitar and a song made 'just' for you. Every couple of months though, you'd catch him putting on a show for another girl, or kissing her, or straight up fucking her. And every couple of months you'd stupidly take him back.

He was in the bathroom crouched over the toilet seat snorting a line with another girl, you crouched beside him and gave him a smile.

"Hell yeah baby take that shit with me," he hollered at you.

You got in real close to the lines neatly placed on the infested toilet seat, looked him dead in the eye, and blew the lines into the air. "Fuck you!"

"What the fuck!" He screamed, "that shit was expensive what kind of fuck shit are you on tonight for real? You've been acting crazier than usual recently."

"I've been acting crazy?" You stood up, "you know what Darren?"

"What baby? Oh please I can't wait to hear this one."

You took a good look at him, made sure to memorize his blue eyes and sharp jawline, his eyebrow piercing and the slightly crooked bottom tooth on the left side. You made sure to think about the first time you knew you were in love with him, and then, "I'm out."

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

Darren had taken you to the party so you got stuck walking home, you had a couple drinks earlier in the night as well which made you stumble a bit in your heels, "this is awesome. Couldn't have asked for a better night."

"You need a ride?" Ellie Williams, again, in her beat up pick-up truck.

"I'm perfectly capable of walking thank you," your steps quickened.

She pulled over and jumped out of her truck, "I never said you weren't!" She jogged to catch up, "but it's freezing out here and you're not wearing a lot to keep you warm."

You stopped in your tracks and looked down at your outfit, she was right you weren't wearing a lot. A cute tank top and some cut off jorts was the only thing keeping some heat on your body, but it wasn't enough. Your skin became instantly aware of the brisk wind blowing directly in your face and you developed goosebumps on your legs and arms. "Fine," you say as you turn around in defeat and walk back to her truck.

She opened your door for you and you pretended not to notice, nor care. When she started the vehicle she turned the heat on and blasted it to get some warmth on you as quickly as possible. "It's an old truck I apologize for the slow heater."

You gave her a side glance and then looked back out the window, "it's fine." You mumbled under your breath.

Ellie Williams was no stranger to you, she'd been in at least two of your classes since you'd started going to college. Her reputation for sticking to her close friend group and never dating peaked your interest at first, but you weren't going to college to date and when Darren came along it moved her to the bottom of the lists for love interests. Don't get it wrong, you snuck glances and shared the occasional classroom snack with her. But you never took it beyond that. It was almost, forbidden. Like the apple Eve knew she shouldn't bite. Poison, but so delightfully delicious.

"You life off 9th street?" She asked softly.

"Yes."

"Me too."

You turned to look at her, she was watching the road carefully. "I've never seen you." Barely a whisper rolled off your tongue.

"I've never let you," she chuckled.

Your eyebrow furrowed, but you shook it off as your apartment building came into view. "Right here thanks." You stepped out of the truck, "I'll see you in class."

"Looking forward to it," she smirked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------So I want this to keep you on your toes, I haven't decided an ending yet so don't ask I won't tell.

#ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader

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thekingofwinterblog · 18 hours

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Was Ragatha a Mom?

So watching Digital Circus, it struck me that there are a lot of contradictions with Ragatha.

She is obviously a very caring person, as we see with her interactions with Pomni, but she also sucks at actually helping her feel better, as we see with the absolute trainwreck that was her innitial attempt at trying to make Pomni feel better after Gummygoo's death.

She still has the spirit to visually disaprove of Jax and his violent and cruel actions, but she doesnt have it in her to actually physically stand up to him unlike Zooble.

And of course there is the way she always puts on a brave face, and refuses to act like even the worst of Pomni's or the other peoples around her bother her.

Obviously there is a lot of context here we are missing. But there was one line from episode 2 that finally seemed to make it click for me.

"Im not a child. You don't have to hype me up."

That line made me realize jusy how, well... Motherly Ragatha acts. And she doesn't just act motherly, she acts like one, very specific kind of mother.

Ragatha acts like the kind of mother who ALWAYS, wheter it is warrented or not, pretends to be fine, that there is nothing wrong, because she believes that the worst thing that she could do would be to act worried, afraid or hysterical, as that might make her kids scared.

And when she talks with Jax, rather than treating him as a violent adult, she treats him like a child she needs a stern talking to.

As if she could actually make him change his ways by doing it, rather than actually taking him to task about his actions.

It again speaks of a very specific kind of mother, who tries to be stern when such is needed, but frankly has no backbone to actually discipline her kid.

On the other end of the spectrum, when Pomni actually hurts her, rather than actually talking it out, she pretends everything is fine, like it wasn't a big deal.

Even her saying that Pomni's moments of weakness was "understandable" as she pretends it didn't mean anything is her effectively saying that Pomni "didn't know any better", as one might say to a child.

The fact is, Ragatha treats Pomni like a child, more speciffically a child she has to protect, cheer up, and guide, rather than an actual adult woman who is her equal.

The single biggest showcase of this is how she talks to Pomni after Gummygoo's death... When she essentially treats her like a Kid who just tried something really, really hard, and gave it her best, only to in the end hit the wall and be crushed by the fact what She attempted was impossible... But still, she tried her best, and that's important. And hey, maybe it's not as bad as you think after all.

Rather than... You know, an adult woman who just had one of her friends murdered in front of her eyes.

Well meaning certainly, but incredibly(And unitentionally) condecending.

It's only when Ragatha stops trying to baby her, and gives her a bit of actual adult heart to heart that she finally manages to make Pomni feel better.

Beyond this, Ragatha also has a body language that is very connected with a steretypical, feminine, motherly image.

She puts her hands together in front of as a clearly natural pose for her, when angry she puts her hands on her hips which comes across like a stereotypical angry mother/caretaker that wants to show how upset she is right now, and she is constantly running about trying to make others(usually Pomni) feel better.

With this in mind, assuming that Ragatha is a mother, lets try to figure out what we can from her age.

Ragatha is 30 Years old, and judging by her comment at the end of episode 2, we can presume she's been there a while.

Now withouth knowing how often a new human enters the circus it's impossible to be entierly sure about how long she's been there, but let's say 3-6 years, given she's well familiar with people abstracting.

That means that at the absolute most(Assuming she didn't get pregnant under the age of 18) that her kid(Or oldest kid) could be up towards 12 years old now, and that she dissapeared from their lives probably when they were 6-9, which lines up with the way she treats Pomni and Jax.

The reason she sucks so badly at cheering others up despite being a very caring person, is that her first instict is to act in her familiar role as a mother figure... But she was ripped away from that role just as her kid was growing old enough to grow out of the baby/little kid stage of their development, and need actual discipline and guidance rather than protectiveness and comfort above everything else.

In other words, she never got to actually develop those skills, being ripped away from her role prematurely, and finding herself in the hell that is the Amazing Digital Circus, where she gets to befriend person after person after person, only to see them end up dying one after another.

Truly the worst hell for such a caring person who just wanted to be a mom.

#the amazing digital circus #ragatha #pomni #mom #mother #meta #theory #speculation

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