#He made BAKLAVA

[sunfloweraro]

For writing requests, how about sharing traditional holiday foods from their eras?

Oooh I love this request! I kept making myself hungry while I wrote it, but enjoy!!

***

“Everyone ready?” Time called out into his dining room.

A chorus of voices from all over his home responded: “Ready!”

Time gathered the clean plates, tower of cups, and boat of gravy, then followed Malon as she led the way into the dining room, her decadent lamb roast in tow. They were the first to set their food down on the heavy oak table, and Malon placed it right in the middle, shifting it so it sat just right and gazing down at her work with pride. Potatoes, carrots and sprigs of rosemary enveloped the steaming roast.

Malon turned to him, her eyes softening with fondness, and he reached for her hand before she had to say a word. Together, they sat at the table and waited as the rest of the group filed in.

The rest of his companions joined them as one, each carrying a tray of steaming food, or a plate with a delightful treat to enjoy once they had stuffed themselves silly and announced they had no room left for dessert. The pleasant tingle of spices greeted his senses, mingling with the sweetness of roasted pumpkin and the saltiness of seafood. The comforting scent of freshly baked bread came next, and Time sighed in appreciation. Dishes were set down with pride, compliments murmured, before everyone settled down at the table.

Malon and Time went first: “My grandmama used to make us a delectable roast every holiday season,” Malon said, her eyes drifting as she reminisced. “I may not be able to make it the same as her, but…”

“It’s something I look forward to every holidays,” Time finished for her, face softening as he met her eye. “My favourite meal, and the gravy she prepares is to die for.”

“Aw, you’re too sappy, fairy boy.”

“Only for you.” His words were met with boos and groans, and he took every one with a smirk. Only Sky cooed, eyes crinkling with warmth as he thought of his own beloved back home.

Wind jumped in next. “My Gramma always makes us this seafood paella. I couldn’t find the exact mussels and prawns she catches, but it’ll still taste like home!” Wind had gone above and beyond with presentation, mimicking Wild’s extravagance and creating rings of peeled red prawns atop a bed of rice. Mussels hadn’t been easy to find, it seemed, but Wind had scattered a few around the dish alongside wedges of lemon.

“It looks wonderful, Sailor,” Warriors said, nudging his young friend in the shoulder. “I’m sure your gramma would be proud.” Wind beamed under the praise, leaning into his friend’s side as they continued.

“The Gorons back home let me join their holiday celebrations,” Wild began. “Curry pilaf has always been my favourite of their dishes.” Time had no doubt the Gorons had introduced Wild to the dish; his eyes watered with the close proximity to the heavily spiced dish, and though he knew his eyes would stream, he would devour the meal and all its delightful flavours, even if he might regret it tomorrow.

“I can’t wait for it, Cub,” Twilight said, and though apprehension lay in his eyes, similar to Time’s own, he knew his descendent would devour the pilaf like a starved man if it made Wild smile. “And it seems Sky and I had similar ideas.” Twilight waved a hand over their dishes, sitting side by side on the table. Twilight had brought a stuffed and roasted butternut pumpkin, and Sky had brought a deep bowl of pumpkin soup accompanied by a fresh loaf of artisan bread.

“I take it your home town grows a lot of pumpkins?” Sky asked, eagerly eyeing off the stuffed butternut.

“The very finest,” Twilight said, a daring light to his eyes.

“I don’t know about that, my friend. Have you ever tried pumpkins at altitude?”

“Have you ever tried them on land?”

“Settle this later, folks,” Time cut in before the friendly banter could go any further. His stomach was rumbling, irritation brought on by hunger flaring deep within. They could continue their playful argument after dinner.

Twilight and Sky shared a look. They nodded to one another, their argument put on the back burner.

“Your stuffing skills are impressive,” Sky praised.

“I’ve never known anyone who could make a pumpkin soup so smooth,” Twilight said in turn, and with a grin to each other, they let it be.

“We don’t have as many dishes these days, when food is hard to come by,” Hyrule said, and all eyes turned to him and the treat before him, a decadently sweet aroma wafting from the pastry covered in a light green dust. “But things have been growing back, and this is one of the first desserts I ever had the pleasure of eating and then learning to make. Folks back home call it baklava.”

“Oh, my uncle used to make that for my birthday,” Legend piped up, eyes sparkling as they took in the dessert. Time wasn’t certain if it was eagerness or nostalgia that brought the glimmer to them. “I haven’t had it in years.”

Hyrule’s face softened. “I hope it can live up to his.”

“I’m sure it will,” Legend assured him, before realising what he had said and blushing. Clearing his throat, Legend pushed his own dish forward, a yellow rice dish with a colourful array of vegetables, cashews, and spices. “When we celebrate the holidays back home, Hilda and Zelda visit. Ravio and I always make this biryani together.”

Warriors hummed, a knowing look on his face that made Legend blush deeper. “Oh yeah?”

“Shut it, you,” Legend snapped. “What did you bring?”

With a roll of his eyes, Warriors pushed forward his dessert, a round pudding topped with a drizzle of white icing and raspberries scattered on top and around it. “Plum pudding. Back in the war, we didn’t have many options when it came to holiday treats, but this one was always my favourite, and it put a smile on my soldiers’ faces when I brought it out.”

“I’m sure they appreciated it,” Time said. “What better way to boost morale than dessert?”

Warriors chuckled. “That was my thought process too. It boosted the spirits of everyone, myself included, gave us strength when we began to wane…”

“What an honourable thing to do,” Time said, and Warriors smiled. “Now, I believe we have one more dish—Four?”

No dish lay before Four, and he looked away shyly. When Time followed his gaze, he saw an odd little structure resting on his kitchen counter. “My dessert isn’t for us to eat,” Four said, and then quickly hushed complaints. “No, let me explain. Back home, we have a special tradition where we bake gingerbread and create little houses from it. We leave these houses out in the living room for the Minish, and come morning, the house has been eaten.”

“What’s the point of that?” Legend asked, earning a glare from Four.

“Let me finish.” With a roll of his eyes, Legend waved for him to do so. “The Minish always help us out, planting rupees and kinstones in the grass. In turn, we give them this. And sometimes, if they enjoy the meal enough, they leave us little presents to find come morning.”

“That sounds like a wonderful tradition,” Time said, and he meant it. “Let us hope our luck is high tonight. If not… it’s still kind to do something for others and expect nothing in return.”

Four dipped his head. “That’s the idea. We don’t do it for the presents, although they’re always interesting. It’s our our way of telling the Minish we appreciate them even when most folks can’t see them any longer.”

“We can set it out on the table after dinner,” Malon promised, her eyes shimmering at the idea. She had always loved giving back; it was part of why she and Time took care fo replenish their sugar water every day. If Navi returned, then that came as a bonus, but looking after fairies when they did so much for him felt right, and the two of them would continue to do so until they no longer could.

“Well, everyone. What do you say we dig in?” Time’s words were met with cheers and the screeching of chairs as everyone stood, rushing to grab their meal. Time met Malon’s eyes, smiled and squeezed her hand around his own.

Hours later, after everyone had eaten their fill and sung and danced until feet and throats were sore, after everyone had drifted off with warmth in their hearts and smiles on their faces, little Minish ventured out from the rafters, sliding down strings of lights or clambering their way down on bookshelves and chimneys. They delightedly raced over to Four’s little gingerbread house, tearing chunks out and humming in appreciation. Come morning, little gifts had been left all around the house in turn to surprise each of the Heroes. And on the table, only a few crumbs remained.

[drivemysoul]

my ex wasn’t awful in every aspect but my health and ptsd always always felt like an inconvenience and an imposition and this weekend just showed me it never had to be and i’m sobbing

[folkwhoredoll]

fiancée - drew starkey x fem!reader

word count: 0.4k

warnings/tags: fluff with sweet boyfriend!drew

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The Greek sun kissed your skin as you wandered through the white-washed streets of a small coastal town, your fingers loosely intertwined with Drew’s. The two of you had slipped away for a much-needed break — his schedule had been packed with filming, and you had been craving some uninterrupted time together. Greece felt like a dream, with its sapphire waters and the scent of sun-ripened olives lingering in the air.

It had been peaceful. That was, until you found yourselves in this situation.

“So, how long have you two been engaged?” The elderly woman behind the bakery counter beamed at you, her deeply wrinkled hands clasped together in excitement.

Your eyes widened as you turned to Drew, waiting for him to correct her. This wasn’t the first time someone had mistaken you two for fiancés. You figured it was the way Drew looked at you — soft and full of something unspoken.

Drew, however, did not correct her.

Instead, he grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips in an overly dramatic display of affection. “Almost a year now,” he said smoothly, squeezing your fingers. “Best decision of my life.”

You nearly choked on air. “Excuse me?”

The woman gasped, absolutely delighted. “A year! How wonderful! You must let me give you something special. For the happy couple!” She was already bustling around the shop, packaging a box of freshly baked baklava before you could protest.

You elbowed Drew, whispering, “What are you doing?”

His grin widened. “Just roll with it, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? Oh, he was enjoying this way too much.

The woman returned with the box, practically glowing. “For you, lovebirds. On the house! A small gift for your happiness.”

You hesitated, guilt creeping in. “Oh, we couldn’t—”

“Nonsense!” She waved you off. “Enjoy, enjoy!”

Drew threw an arm around your shoulder and shot you a wink before leading you out of the shop, the box of baklava in hand. Once outside, you smacked his arm. “What the hell was that?”

He laughed, completely unbothered. “It was either that or breaking her heart.”

“You could’ve just corrected her!”

“And miss out on free baklava?” He popped a piece into his mouth, offering you one with a smug look. “Not a chance, fiancée.”

You groaned, but against your better judgment, you took a bite. It was heavenly. Damn it.

“I can’t believe you,” you muttered, mouth full.

Drew leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple, voice teasing. “Better start practicing that signature, future Mrs. Starkey.”

You rolled your eyes, but as you walked hand-in-hand along the sunlit streets, you couldn’t shake the warmth blooming in your chest.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

a/n: hi everyone! i haven't been active in a while because of university :') but here's a short drew starkey fic for all of you! i made it fluffy because my last posts were all smut hehe i hope you liked it <3

[acosmicbee]

Would you be willing to make a platonic yandere head chef at like a very baller restaurant. And reader is just like the hostess or a waitress. And some big mean guy starts yelling and throwing a fit about something. The food being could or the wait time?????

Yes Chef

500 Follower Celebration - Day 6

"Y/N-?"

"Ah!" You jumped, whirling around with your hand clutched to your chest. "You scared me! Make some noise when you walk, please and thank you!"

Your boss just sighed, already exasperated, as he crossed his arms. He was the head chef and owner of the restaurant you worked part time at. Chef Adonis, or as you called him Donny/Don Don, was some former semi-famous chef who had decided to open a restaurant. He raised an eyebrow as you dramatically straightened your apron, making a show of recovering from being startled.

"Look, your stepdad called. Said something about being late to pick you up from your shift, so do you want to cover for Lindsay so you're at least getting paid instead of sitting in the staff lounge? She was supposed to work a double but no-call no-showed for her first shift and I doubt she'd be here for the second one."

Your nose scrunched in annoyance as you considered it. You didn't like Lindsay at all, she was super bossy and the kind of person who peaked in high school, but you kept your opinions to yourself. The servers, and even some of the cooks, were a gossipy bunch and anything told to one person would soon be known by the whole restaurant.

You were one of the younger servers, being a high schooler yourself. You worked part time, thanks to a favor your stepdad had cashed in so you'd stop annoying him and your mother for money.

"Eh... Sure, why not? As long as I get paid. Is Jade helping out tonight?"

Jake was the boss' daughter who sometimes did random stuff around the restaurant for some money. You went to the same school but never really talked outside of work due to her being a senior while you were a sophomore. You also weren't in the same social circles with her being a cheerleader who usually hung out with the sporty kids and you only really talking to your close friends and having the athletic proficiency of a cooked noodle.

Inside the restaurant though? The two of you were past the point of work besties. If there was anyone you'd consider gossiping with, it would be her. However, you refuse to add to the gossip already flying around. Last you heard, apparently one of the cooks was dating some older lady who was basically his sugar mommy.

"Yeah, she'll be here tonight. I expect you two to actually get work done this time." Okay, so maybe the two of you had spent the last shift you'd shared having a deep discussion about whether or not a root beer float was a soup. (It was, by the way, and you would die on that hill).

"Sure thing, Chef! We'll be good employees." You cheekily promised, grinning at his exasperated eye roll.

If Jade was your work-sister, Adonis was your work-dad. It helped he was one of the sole positive male influences, your stepfather didn't want to be your dad, and you didn't want him either. With the chef, you found it easier to relax a little.

"Y/N!" The door to the staff lounge swung open as Jade ran in. Her eyes were wide and she'd obviously been running. A cup of iced coffee was held in a death grip as she stared at you catching her breath. "Baklava. Is it a sandwich?"

"Lasagna." You answered. "It has layers with stuff in between."

"Oh my god. Y/N, get to work. Jade, you're serving today." Adonis said, sounding like he truly regretted his life choices.

"I serve everyday." Jade answered, taking a long sip of his coffee and dramatically flipping her hair.

The long-suffering sigh Adonis let out would have been concerning but you had heard it enough times for it to be normalized. You blew a platonic kiss to Jade as you grabbed your notepad and made your way to the hostess stand.

You'd likely be serving food during the shift you'd picked up from Lindsay, but for now you got to rest easy. It was still early, and everything was empty so you barely had to get up. It was quiet enough that Jade eventually came to stand over your shoulder as you both worked on a crossword while talking about school.

"He does realize he isn't our only teacher, right? He assigned an essay due the day of the AP Bio test. 5-Down is 'emu'." Jade complained.

You penciled it his answer, glad you weren't a senior who had to deal with that teacher yet. "That mega sucks. What's the essay on?"

"Something about the key themes in Frankenstein and what it says about society." He answered before pointing at one of the clues. "That one is luna."

"Oh that reminds me. What are you doing for halloween this year?" You asked, scribbling in the answer as well as another one nearby you'd figured out.

"No idea. Probably gonna check with the team and see what they want to do. Maybe we'll do something matching." She said before looking at you confused. "Why did that remind you of Halloween?"

"Oh, I was thinking about maybe doing something Sailor Moon related at first. I changed my mind though, so now I'm trying to find a new costume idea."

"Y/N, Jade! You two have jobs to do, you know!" Adonis scolded, appearing behind you two. You, once again, startled, yelping and throwing the pencil.

"Stop it!" You huffed, glaring at Jade when she burst out laughing. "It's not funny!"

"You sounded like one of those small dogs." She giggled, wiping away an actual tear as you huffed.

"Does this count as workplace harassment?" You asked Adonis only for Jade to hang off your shoulders, making you stumble.

Adonis sighed as one of the regulars entered the restaurant, not even giving a second glance at you trying to fight Jade.

"Afternoon. Table for one." He said, Adonis grabbing him a menu as you were still attempting to squirm away from Jade. "You kids ever decide whether or not a root beer float was a soup?"

"It is!" "Is not!" Were shouted simultaneously, which only started up the argument again. At some point in the middle of it all the phone rang and you picked it up, shushing Jade as you did.

"Hello, you've reached Elysium Dining, how can I help you?" You asked sweetly, flipping off Jade who silently made a dramatic show of crying in hurt.

"I need a table for six tonight." A man demanded, already sounding pissed off with you.

"Alright, let me put you on hold while I see if we have any availabilities." You said, hitting the button to make the hold music start playing.

When you found the options you connected the line again, ignoring how he was already angrily muttering about something. "Alright sir, we have openings at 6, 6:45 and-!"

"I'll take the 6:45." He cut you off. You wanted to hang up on him but didn't, forcing your best customer service smile even if he couldn't see it.

"Alright can I please have a name for the reservation?"

"James." He hung up on you before you could even say anything about the late policy. You just huffed, adding the reservation into the system.

"He sounded pleasant." Jane said sarcastically. You chuckled as you grabbed a menu for a couple of guests who had just walked in.

"Pleasant, Jane? Don't make me laugh. Hope he's not in the section I'm supposed to cover."

⟡🍽️₊˚⊹♡

You should've known this shift would turn into a disaster. The second your second shift had started Lindsay had shown up, clearly hungover, and openly argued with Adonis about working the shift you were now covering. She had quickly been sent home, thankfully right before the dinner rush started and the restaurant was full.

Now both you and Jane were running around, taking orders and carrying dishes. You were in the middle of running some drinks over when you were pulled aside by the guy working the hostess stand.

"You were the one who put in this table for six at 6:45, right? Well, they're here and making a fuss because they're over 15 minutes late for their table so their reservation was canceled."

You groaned, before handing your tray of drinks to him. "You run these drinks to table 5, I'll go deal with it. The beer is for the lady and the margarita is for the man."

Jane briefly spared you a glance as you made your way to the hostess stand where a man was there, fuming. Behind him were a couple of others, looking equally annoyed.

"Hello sir, I was told you had a problem with your reservation?" You said, the epitome of perfect customer service person.

"You were the one I talked with on the phone earlier, so you should know that I have a reservation!" He said, glaring at you like he was daring you to say no.

"Sir it is currently... 7:09. Our policy states that there is a 15 minute window where tables are reserved past their reservation time. You are almost 25 minutes late so unfortunately, your table has likely already been given to another party seeing as we're currently full." You said, already preparing yourself for whatever he was going to try and say.

"Are you serious?!" He explodes. You back away a little when he starts angrily gesturing as he gets even angrier. "You're going to find me a table right now because I reserved a table! So what if I'm a little late?! I have a life, unlike you!"

By this point the restaurant has gone silent, everyone is looking at the two of you. You're trying your best to keep your cool as he continues yelling at you, as if him being late was your fault. "Get me your manager! I want to speak to someone who actually knows what's going on here!"

You made the mistake of partially turning to ask Jane to get Adonis to handle this. In a split second you were on the floor, your cheek burning as black spots danced across your vision. Jane was at your side in an instant, helping you up as Adonis stepped between you and the man.

You were led back to the staff room where Jane pressed an icepack to your face. Outside you could hear yelling and eventually sirens. You felt in a state of shock as Adonis led a police officer to the staff room, speaking to you softly as he wrapped a blanket around your shoulders.

You gave your statement, Jane also giving a statement as a witness. It was a long and tiring process and when it was over you just curled up on the staff room couch, letting yourself drift off.

You woke up being helped to the back of a car, not even questioning when your head was gently supported by someone's shoulder. You let your mind drift as you watched the city fly by outside the window, not even noticing that the buildings were turning into larger and larger houses.

Jane carried your bag as Adonis picked you up, letting you curl into him as he carried you into a nice foyer. You were eventually led to a room you assumed was Janes. She eagerly picked out some pajamas for you to change into, even letting you shower in her bathroom.

After that she led you to her bed, letting you curl up beside her as she turned out the lamp. You were asleep by the time Adonis checked on you, looking fondly at the two of you cuddling.

"You make such a good big sister Jane. Take care of them tonight, yes?"

"Of course dad. As if I'd let anything else happen to them after tonight. I should've been quicker." She said regretfully, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"We both should have been. But the past is the past. Tomorrow, we can get them settled here. Now, go to sleep honey, I have some calls to make."

Jane nodded, settling into the pillows as she felt your gentle breathing against her cheek. "Don't worry, Y/N. Your big sister has you and she's never letting you go. Not again."

[magpie-sherlock]

@baileyboo2016

Sweet Gestures

Collaboration with screaming-but-i-have-four-swords! Go check out the art!

“So, I noticed you like sweets.”

Hyrule, who was trying to play coy while scooping sugar into his palm, startles and sends white grains flying across Legend and Ravio’s kitchen. “What—no—what?”

Ravio laughs and moves closer so he can bump shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with liking sugar. But if you want something, I’m pretty sure I can make a recipe.”

“Oh. Yeah.” There isn’t the expected excitement.

“Or, I mean, you’re welcome to the sugar…?” Did he misread the situation?”

Hyrule only curls further into himself. “Sorry, I can clean up the mess.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about?” Ravio’s brows furrow; how did this conversation go wrong so quickly?”

“Um.” The traveler stares at his shoes, shoulders hunching. “Sorry, please excuse me.” Then he darts from the kitchen, bumping into Wild on his way out.

The champion watches him go, then turns to Ravio. “What was that about?”

“I don’t know! I said I noticed he likes sweets because he’s been taking sugar from the jar. I can make him a treat if he wants? And he just—shut down.” The merchant turns pleading eyes on Wild. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you are fine.” He claps a hand on Ravio’s shoulder and moves to help him sweep up the sugar on the counter. “Hyrule can be sensitive, that’s all. He’s had to protect himself for a long time. It’s hard to let others in.”

“Is it…a secret?”

Wild shrugs one shoulder. “I think Rulie would really like it if you made him something, though.”

Ravio nods, turning to pull out his cookbooks. “Let me think of something you couldn’t have on the road.”

Throwing a two-fingered salute, he saunters back out. Ravio returns to his cookbooks. What can he make that will be special, but also sweet? Not candy; Wild already makes honey candy for them on the road. Maybe…a pastry? He has been meaning to try that new recipe he found. Mind made up, he turns to pull out ingredients. ~

So the first batch is…well, calling them an eyesore is a compliment. Ravio gives a deep sigh before dumping them all in the trash. He’ll get better in round two. Maybe he’ll start prepping more dough so he doesn’t have to wait each time for the chilling period. At least he’s got all day.

Making more dough is a good idea because the second batch is also inedible. Most of the heroes have wandered into the kitchen and been chased out already. Legend sticks his head in, looks at his frazzled housemate, and abruptly retreats.

The third batch is burnt, because Ravio got distracted after putting them in to bake. He’s got more dough, but…after this, he’s going to be out of butter.

“Link!” He pops his head out the back door, making Four—sitting on the stoop—jump. “Link—oh, hi Four. Have you seen Legend?”

“I’m here, I’m here! What’s the racket about?”

“My hero!” The merchant gushes, batting his lashes. Legend’s face puckers. “I need more butter. Do you mind running out and grabbing some?”

“More butter? Didn’t we have plenty?”

“Yes.”

“Does this have to do with whatever you are burning in my kitchen?”

“Yes.”

“Do I get to eat it when you are done?”

“…yes.”

“Fine.” Legend rolls his eyes but reaches a hand down to pull Four up. “You’re coming with me.”

“What? What did I do?”

“You existed within my eyesight,” the vet deadpans.

“I can be shorter.”

Ravio leaves them to bicker, turning back to the dough he already had. This time, he’ll get it right. ~

By dinner time, the group decides to trek to Kakariko for dinner out, as Ravio’s turned the kitchen into what Legend deems, his own personal nightmare. Why is this so hard? Sure, it’s got a lot of finicky steps, and temperatures to follow, and layering the dough, and—

Maybe he should have picked something easier.

…he definitely should have picked something easier. ~

The group returns and goes to bed late, still giving the kitchen a wide berth. It’s after midnight when Ravio finally pulls out a perfect batch of baked goods and transfers them to cool.

Then he collapses in a chair, exhausted. Frustration sapped his patience hours ago, but the sweet does smell delicious. He’ll just wait for them to cool a little longer. It probably wouldn’t hurt to rest his eyes…just for a moment… ~

“Ravio? Ravio!”

The merchant mumbles something into his sleeve, then raises his head to blink at the blurry shape before him. “Hyrule? Is something wrong?”

“It smells really good in here. And then I found you asleep on the table. Shouldn’t you…go to bed?”

It takes another long moment for Ravio’s brain to catch up to the situation. “Oh! I made you something!” He’s out of the chair with a yawn, going to check on the baked goods. They’re cooler, but still a little warm. He transfers one to a plate and thrusts it at the healer.

“Um.” Hyrule takes it, a little nonplussed. “It's…late?”

“Oh. Yeah, you probably don’t want sweets this late, sorry. You can try it at breakfast.” He reaches for the plate, but Hyrule just pulls it into his chest. “Or you can try it now,” he amends.

“Is this what you were baking all day?”

Ravio grabs another pastry, carefully pulling the parchment away from the side. “Yeah. A little harder than I thought, but I think these ones turned out pretty well.”

Hyrule turns his around, then sucks on this thumb when it comes back sticky. His eyes light up and he takes a bite. Ravio copies him.

Butter and sugar are sandwiched between layers of dough. It took a lot of work to get it to roll out at the right consistency without melting, but the result is layers of light pastry. The sugar on the outside is caramelized and slightly sticky. While the butter is melted into the dough, each bite oozes richness.

Hyrule moans and shoves more of the baked good in his mouth. “Dis is the befst ting I’ve ever had. Dun tell Wild!”

It takes Ravio a second to decipher the words through his full mouth, but then he grins. “I’m glad you like it. And I agree, this is pretty darn good.”

The traveler swallows before speaking again. “How did you manage to make something sweeter than straight sugar?”

“The magic of baking?”

They both giggle and go back to their treats. Hyrule gives him another shy glance. “Really, thank you for going to all this effort. It means a lot.”

“You deserve it, Hyrule. And if this is one way I can help? I’m happy I got the chance to do so.”

The traveler’s smile is as sweet as the sugar they eat.

[sweetdispatch]

hiiii, i have a bakery order 😁

6 pieces of baklava with toffee and salted pretzels

thank you!!

Personality - Q. Hughes

v' bakery pairing: Quinn Hughes x fem!reader summary: You and Quinn didn't like each other but one argument opened his eyes warning: swear words

You and Quinn have been stuck in the same friend group during summer and both of you hated it. You didn’t like him because he was always showing that he’s an athlete and that was his pick up line. For you, it looked like he had no personality except for being an athlete. He didn’t like you because you were sarcastic and he hated that he doesn’t know if you’re for real or just joking. 

Your friends knew that you two didn’t like each other and found it funny to always set you up. At every dinner, you were placed next to him. When you were going out for drinks, they always made sure you two were close. It was entertaining for them to see yours and Quinn's interaction. 

One night, the tension between you and Quinn was unbearable. You were mad at him for every little thing he did. He thought he’s funny but he was just annoying you. You weren’t the person who’s ready to confront others and always prefer to keep your mouth shut instead of arguing but tonight, you had enough of him. 

“Can you go with me outside?” You asked him and he nodded his head. When you stepped outside, you lost control. “What’s your problem dickhead?” 

“I don’t have a problem. You’re the one with a problem” Quinn casually said. 

“You’re my problem. I get it you don’t like me but grow up” You told him.

“You’re the one who needs to grow up. You’re the one who’s acting like a bitch all the time” Quinn said and you looked at him surprised.

“I prefer to act like a bitch then try to get into other girls' panties by saying that I’m an athlete” You told him. “Oh look at me. I’m Quinn Hughes and I play hockey” You mocked him. “Don’t you have a personality that you need to tell everyone that you’re an athlete?” 

“Is that the reason why you don’t like me?” Quinn asked you and you nodded. “This is idiotic reason, you know that?” 

“You didn’t prove me wrong so it’s not. Call me when you find your personality and then I can agree with you” You told him and started going home. 

“Where are you going?” You heard him screaming after you but you didn’t answer, just focused on the way back home. 

Your words were stuck with Quinn. He was thinking about them for the rest of the night and the next day. He realised that in fact, his whole personality was being an athlete and he wanted to change it. He also realised that you’re not that bad of a person. He wanted to prove you wrong and show you that there’s more of him than just sport. 

You went dead silent for the next few days. You felt bad for saying those words to Quinn. It wasn’t your place to tell them. You didn’t want to talk with your friends or go out with them. You just wanted to stay at home and enjoy the peace instead of facing the consequences of your words. 

Quinn was worried about you because you were always the most active one in the group chat and now you weren’t saying anything nor reading. He thought that something bad must have happened when you were going back home after the conversation you two had. That’s why he decided to check on you and arrived in front of your doorstep. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked him when you saw him. 

“I wanted to see you” Quinn said and walked into your apartment. 

“Why?” You asked him about his sudden worry. 

“Because you weren’t answering the messages and I thought something bad happened to you” Quinn told you and you slightly smiled at his worry. 

“I’m fine, I just felt bad about the words I told you and needed a break” You sighed. “Now, you checked on me and can go home”

“You were right. I don’t have a personality other than sports. This is all me, just hockey” Quinn admitted. 

“I’m sure you have. I’m sorry for saying that to you. I was just mad and threw those words at you. You didn’t deserve them” You told him feeling bad that the words stuck with him. 

“I’m glad you told me. I could think about it and see something. I could see that I was running after other girls when you were there all the time” Quinn told you and you felt taken aback. 

“Excuse me?” You didn’t expect these words from him. 

“You are a great woman. I thought that you’re a bitch but in fact, you just know what you want and you’re not afraid of saying it out loud” Quinn said and caressed your cheek. “I really want you” He leaned down and kissed your lips. 

You didn’t pull away. You deepened the kiss and went with your hands through his hair. This kiss melted the tension that was between you two. You couldn't have enough of him. His lips felt like a missing piece to yours. Quinn pulled away and looked at you.

“I want to ruin you so badly” Quinn whispered and kissed you again. 

“Do it. Show me what you got, athlete boy” You said to him and connected your lips with his.

[evis-gossip]

His mission. Part 1: He had you.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Categories: Light angst, fluff, mostly hurt/comfort.

Warnings: Protective! Ghost (he’s a warning okay). Talk of injuries. No use of Y/N. Allusions to long hair and small body.

Word count: 0.8k words

A/N: Pls have in mind I’m super new to this fandom and have never played COD, hence, I got no clue about the lore. Feel free to let me know fi anything's wrong.

His mission. Part 2: Wake up - Masterlist

You were his mission. The 141 had to find you, unharmed if possible, forced if necessary.

But when he found you, his heart clenched. Simon didn’t even think he had feelings anymore, and yet, your curled up frame, in the corner of the room, barely covered in a thin hospital gown, the skin exposed littered in cuts and bruises, shaking and whimpering, cold and most likely terrified, he found himself questioning his own lack of feelings.

Something deep inside him made him want to protect you at all costs. Take you and cradle you in his big arms, hold you close and wipe your tears away. And that’s exactly what he did.

He put his weapon down, under Gaz and Soap’s curious and nearly judgmental gaze. He approached you as if it were the case of a small animal, with extended hands and a cautious heart.

You hid your face between your knees, expecting the hurt, the pain to come, it never did. His warm hands settled softly on your back and your knee, trying to bring a kind of comfort he never known himself. “Hey, there” he sounded surprisingly soft, but you still whimpered “It’s alright, you’re safe now”. He didn’t hesitate to sit himself right next to you, while the rest of the squad secured the perimeter.

It took some coaxing, but he finally got you to let yourself be touched without crying. He wrapped you up in a scarf from his backpack and scooped you up in his arms, cradling you like a small child. He carried you effortlessly to the aircraft, bowing to himself to not let you go unless absolutely necessary. Every time he heard you wince when he accidentally pressed his calloused hands to a bruise, he had to physically restrain himself from finding the monsters that did this to you and beating them to a pulp. But first, he was going to get you cleaned up, find out who you were and protect you with his life.

He got to the plane before you fell asleep on his chest, which wouldn’t have been the worst, but it wasn’t his plan. This was: he sat down on his designated spot and sat you down on his lap, the baklava tight around your shoulders. He pulled his skull mask off so that you saw his face and hopefully, recognized (trusted) him when you woke up. He brushed your hair back with his rough hand, mostly to make you look at him. His blonde hair was disheveled and his brown eyes tired, but kind, the type of kindness neither of you remember receiving in a long time. Maybe that’s why he took to you so easily.

“Name’s Simon. What’s yours, angel?” He broke the silence, almost in a soft whisper, bringing you out of the spell that had you lost in his eyes. You nearly squeaked as you hid your face in his chest. On one hand, he was disappointed he couldn’t get a word out of you. On the other, he was glad you found comfort in him. He still held close for the remainder of the flight, caressing your back gently, lulling you to sleep.

By the time you woke up, you were still in his arms, being carried to the medical tent at camp. He had the highest respect for his superiors, but right now, he was ignoring their orders to report the mission immediately. That could wait. He needed to make sure you were taken care of, everything else was secondary. He laid you down gently on the cot, but you whimpered and he was quick to cradle you again. You let yourself be checked over as long as he was holding you. The nurses said you needed rest, lots of fluids and mostly nutrients. He felt his heart in a tight fist at hearing you were suffering severely from malnutrition and dehydration. They had you hooked to an IV and on sedatives. Before he knew, you were out like a light, and again, not a word from you.

He wiped your still wet cheeks before finally laying you down on the cot, never tearing his eyes away from you. He had your tiny hand wrapped in his, and in your pale state, but peaceful slumber, he had the quiet to realize against his will, that he could never let you go. He didn’t even know your name. You were his mission. He couldn’t find it in himself to care. Price came by to get a mission report and “inspect the target”. Simon didn’t like the sound of that. They could run tests, get fingerprints, find your identity, what they had done to you, later. Right now, they had you, so they could fuck right off.

He had you, and he would keep you safe.

[mrpenguinpants]

Cat Distribution System [ Commissioned ]

— Recently, there have been reports of a large food shortage sweeping across Sumeru. The culprit? It's a...cat? Hang on- is this the right script?

Word Count: 4.8k

— Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wanderer + Cyno

Request: [ A platonic first encounter fic with a lazy/messy demon cat boy who is the personification of gluttony. ] Reader is based on an OC, so there are a few extra details/lore, but no OC names or physical details are mentioned. This is still an x reader fic. [Masterlist]

Thank you for commissioning me and trusting me with your OC again! While I didn't go as deep into the origin story as last time, I hope I did justice to his lore and character traits. I hope you like it!

“So, let me get this straight,” Kaveh starts, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. His brow furrowed slightly as his eyes flicked toward the figure across the table, who was happily stuffing his face with bits of chicken and Baklava—a bizarre combination that made Kaveh’s stomach turn. How was that not the worst flavor combination? Sweet, followed by the lingering taste of meat? And was that the crunk of teeth grinding against bones as well? Absolutely revolting. “You went out to investigate the food shortages in the desert, and somehow, you returned with... that?”

“Correct,” Alhaitham replied, his voice calm and detached, not even bothering to glance up from the pages of his book. He was so absorbed in his reading that it was as if the entire world around him had faded into the background. The giant elephant in the room—wait, no, cat—was the more appropriate term, Kaveh realized, his gaze drifting to the source of his growing exasperation seemingly dismissed. With a resigned sigh, he cast a pained glance to the otherfg side, where two fluffy ears flicked back and forth in a way that might have been endearing, had the man not been in the midst of devouring half the dishes they had. He was eating through Kaveh’s body weight in food, and with each bite, the pile of empty plates grew, a silent testament to the chaos of it all. Who exactly was going to foot the bill for this little catastrophe?

Kaveh stared. He stared hard. “What… is that?”

It wasn’t as though Kaveh was unacquainted with people sporting animal-like features—after all, he’d spent a good part of his morning discussing dwindling resources with Tighnari, whose sharp ears and bushy tail were as much a part of him as his sharp wit. But this? This was something else entirely. Never in his wildest dreams—or nightmares—had Kaveh imagined the source of Sumeru’s mounting food crisis would manifest as two twitching ears, an equally fluffy tail, and a bottomless appetite housed in what could only be described as a walking, purring catastrophe.

“Looks like we bit off more than we could chew,” Cyno said, lowering himself into a chair with the deliberate weight of someone resigned to his fate. Arms crossed and tone as dry as Sumeru’s deserts, he added, “And now we’re all stuck digesting the consequences.”

A long, theatrical groan followed, drawing attention to the figure at the table who was steadily sliding downward like butter left out in the sun. Kaveh collapsed further into the wood, his head resting on folded arms, his posture and overall energy reminiscent of a melting slime abandoned after battle—defeated, formless, and thoroughly unappealing.

"If you can still joke like that, I’ll take it as a sign that everything’s perfectly under control?" Kaveh sighed, his tone soft but laced with a hint of exasperation as he rubbed his temples, as though the pun had somehow caused actual harm. He shifted slightly closer to Alhaitham, who despite already having checked out of the conversation leans in, raising one hand to his mouth like a makeshift shield. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Kaveh added, "But seriously… if everything’s fine, then why exactly is the culprit here?"

“He followed us back,” Alhaitham said, his voice cool and dispassionate as if recounting a minor inconvenience rather than a monumental lapse in judgment. Kaveh blinked, his mind briefly short-circuiting as it tried to process the absurdity of the situation. The infamously meticulous scribe—who went out of his way to ensure his time card was never a second past overtime—took work home with him?

“He followed you back? And you didn't do anything to stop him?” Kaveh echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief as if repeating the question could somehow rewrite the reality he was hearing. The light-hearted atmosphere faltered, quickly replaced by a heavier silence as Cyno and Alhaitham exchanged a glance, one filled with a silent understanding Kaveh couldn’t quite place. Cyno’s expression darkened, his usual sternness sharpening into something far more severe, like a storm suddenly gathering on the horizon. His gaze flickered toward the corner of the table, where their... unwelcome guest lingered, before returning it to Kaveh with an almost apologetic weight.

“We didn’t exactly have a choice,” Cyno muttered, his voice edged with a reluctant resignation, as though the truth of the situation was one he was still struggling to fully accept. The words hung in the air, heavy with the uncomfortable reality of their predicament. The young man—cat? Kaveh paused, wondering if it was offensive to think of him as a “cat” in his mind. Maybe it was too soon to make that judgment, but the behavior was hard to ignore. The man gave a small huff, his tail flicking with a quick and irritated motion.

“You didn’t have to bring me,” he muttered, his voice laced with casual defiance, “I could’ve found more food on my own.”

“And left more skeletons in the rainforest?” Cyno shot back, his tone dry. The cat man shrugged, the movement causing his ears to twitch with a playful smile. No remorse whatsoever.

“I was hungry,” he said with a casual shrug, his tone almost too smooth, as though hunger itself were a completely reasonable excuse for his behavior, “It’s not my fault this place has no decent food.”

“Wait, hold on. You’re telling me that this kid—who, by the way, looks like he hasn’t seen a bath in weeks, and that’s putting it lightly—has been roaming around the forest, eating his way through everything he comes across, and leaving carcasses in his wake like some kind of... monstrous scavenger?” Kaveh’s eyes narrowed, his mind reeling as he tried to piece together the chaos of the moment. Cyno let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the situation. He glanced briefly toward their uninvited guest, whose tail flicked lazily in the corner. Truly the embodiment of a menace, even the stray cats who knocked over flower pots had the same content look. As if they stood above the Archon's themselves.

“That’s... the gist of it,” Cyno admitted, his voice a reluctant blend of resignation and mild disbelief, as though he still couldn't quite wrap his mind around how things had gotten this far. Kaveh’s jaw dropped. His hands shot up in a dramatic gesture of utter disbelief, and he slowly turned his incredulous gaze back to Cyno, then to Alhaitham, and finally to the creature occupying the corner of the table like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And you—you brought him here?! To our place?!” His voice had risen to the point where the last question practically exploded from his mouth, punctuating his growing sense of utter absurdity. He wasn’t sure whether to be horrified, exasperated, or just completely lost for words. Alhaitham exhaled slowly, his fingers pressing against his temples as if trying to stave off the headache threatening to bloom. At least he was starting to realize he couldn't avoid faking deafness to Kaveh's ever-mounting overthinking.

“He’s not a threat to the city. As long as we keep him fed, he won’t cause any trouble,” Alhaitham gestures with his hand, his voice steady, but there was an underlying weight to it. Kaveh, not at all convinced, raised an eyebrow, his skepticism practically radiating from him. He crossed his arms, looking from Alhaitham to their “guest” with barely contained frustration.

“That’s a big assumption,” he muttered, his words laced with more doubt than a stack of building materials. His eyes flicked toward their unwelcome companion, who was now happily licking the remnants of some forgotten dish off his fingers, completely oblivious to the growing tension around him, “What’s to stop him from eating his way through the city next? And I’m not just talking about food. Shouldn't you be more worried than I am Cyno!?”

“If he does, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, he’s just… a nuisance," Cyno glanced over, who, now finished with his meal, was lazily lounging in his chair tipped so far back that it would take the slightest breeze to knock him over.

Kaveh pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to process everything, “So, let me get this straight once more. You went out to solve a food shortage, and instead of fixing the problem, you brought home a cat with a black hole for a stomach? And before you even start Alhaitham, I know you said he "followed" you back.”

"Ah, so you do listen."

"You-!"

Kaveh opened his mouth to continue arguing but then paused, his eyes narrowing as the gears in his head turned, “Wait a minute. When you invited me out for dinner...was this your way of pushing your problem onto me?! Does this mean I’m stuck dealing with him now?”

“That depends,” Alhaitham hides his mouth with his book, the bastard, “Are you offering to take responsibility for him?”

“This has to be some kind of cosmic joke. I knew I shouldn't have trusted in your good faith! I didn’t sign up to be part of the accidental cat distribution system!” Kaveh's up onto his feet, the chair pushed back with his palms flat against the table in protest.

The visitor tilted his head, his ears twitching. “I don’t know what that means, but if you’re offering food, I’ll stay.”

“I’m not offering food!” Kaveh said quickly, almost defensively.

“It’s not a matter of being fine with it,” Cyno said with a weary sigh, “It’s a matter of necessity. If we left him alone, he’d cause more problems. Alhaitham is still the Acting Grand Sage, and I have to scout the forest for any other "visitors". You’re the only one we can count on, Kaveh.”

Kaveh stared at him for what felt like an eternity, his gaze flicking between Alhaitham and Cyno. His chest tightened, and his mind spun in circles, torn between his growing anxiety and the strange tug of responsibility. His heart twisted and twinged, at war with his brain, which insisted that he had no idea how to take care of a cat, let alone a full-fledged person. Hell, he couldn’t even manage to keep his own life together! But... the look Cyno was giving him was enough to make him falter, his resolve weakening by the second. How many times had Cyno helped him, without question? And technically, wasn’t Alhaitham also turning to him, a trusted senior, to step in? With how much of a brick wall these two were, they’d likely leave a bowl of water and food, lock the door, and pretend this entire mess didn’t exist. But even if the “cat” turned out to be some dangerous menace to Sumeru, he was still just a kid, wasn’t he? It was hard to tell with all the grime and disarray, but Kaveh could never turn his back on someone in need. It didn’t matter if he didn’t know what he was doing—he had a soft spot for lost souls. He sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration, resigning to his fate, “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Perhaps,” Alhaitham, ever the picture of composure, stood up, brushing invisible dust from his clothes as though this entire conversation wasn’t nearly as catastrophic as it felt, “But for now, it’s your disaster too.”.

---

A few weeks had passed since Kaveh found himself reluctantly sharing his space with you—a strange, cat-like humanoid creature who seemed to have no sense of personal boundaries, let alone normal social conventions. Things, as he had feared, had barely improved. Kaveh leaned back in his chair, the creak of the wood echoing in the otherwise quiet room as he squinted up at the ceiling, silently counting the seconds until he would inevitably lose his patience. His life, it seemed, had morphed into an ongoing exercise in suppressing the instinctive desire to be a people-pleaser. Sure, he’d grown accustomed to dealing with clients who would endlessly revise their requests or scrap entire projects at the last minute, but this? This was an entirely different level. At least his clients didn’t sprawl across his desk or raid his fridge as though they were entitled to every last bite of food in the place. And they certainly didn’t follow him around like a persistent shadow, knocking over everything in their path.

Lately, your favorite pastime had been trailing after him, meticulously upending his carefully constructed systems. His drafting room—which had once been a sanctuary of messy but organized—had now become an unrecognizable battleground. Stacks of books, once aligned neatly on the floor, were scattered haphazardly, their contents not even spared the mercies of a half-hearted attempt at organization. More disturbingly, there were signs of clutter everywhere: empty plates left licked cleaned, crumbs scattered as though you’d been purposely grinding the bags into dust, and the occasional abandoned cloth or discarded paper—all remnants of your uninvited presence.

Today, Kaveh watched in silence, eyes narrowing as you sat cross-legged in the corner of the room, flipping through a book with the kind of careless disinterest that set his teeth on edge. Your tail swayed lazily behind you, brushing against the floor with a gentle brush, as though you weren’t inches away from toppling over a lamp if he didn’t keep a vigilant eye on you. It was frankly, unfair. Every time he glanced over, there you were—completely at ease in a space that used to be his own.

“You could at least sit in a chair like a normal person,” Kaveh said, his tone edged with the discontent that had been steadily building up inside him. He gestured toward the chair beside him, pulling it out with a theatrical flourish as though offering you a seat at some royal banquet, “I’m not asking for much here.”

“Chairs are uncomfortable,” you replied without sparing him so much as a glance, your voice casual, almost dismissive. How oddly familiar huh? “And besides, the floor’s warm from the sun.”

Before Kaveh could fire back, the soft sound of deliberate footsteps, accompanied by the faint clinking of bronze, sliced through the tension in the air. Oh, thank god—Alhaitham was home, so he could finally take you off his hands—

But when he turned to look, his words faltered in his throat. It wasn’t Alhaitham.

Instead, it was a young man with blue eyes, fair skin, and short midnight blue hair with choppy bangs falling over unimpressed eyes. Well, at least one of those details was right?

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself this time,” Wanderer remarked, his eyes sweeping over the room with a mix of bemusement and something Kaveh couldn’t quite place. Then his gaze landed on you, relaxed and utterly unfazed, lounging in the corner, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always had a remarkable talent for collecting problems.”

Kaveh’s eyes widened in confusion, his mind scrambling to process the unexpected sight. He had no idea what Wanderer was doing here, or why he’d chosen this exact moment to make his appearance. He didn’t even know the man all that well—certainly not well enough to waltz into his home and deal with the complete disaster Kaveh had found himself trapped in. Kaveh opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he let out an incredulous laugh, his hands trembling slightly.

“W-Wait, what?” Kaveh spun around, his mind struggling to catch up with the scene unfolding in front of him. He glanced from you to Wanderer, and then back to you again, his confusion intensifying with each passing second, “Why you? Why—what are you doing here?”

“Me? I was under the impression you were in need of assistance," Wanderer’s lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, his voice dripping with the same wry tone he always carried. He leaned casually against the doorframe, the sound of his hat ornaments clicking against each other rings in the room, “You do seem to have a knack for making things... complicated.”

Without missing a beat, his gaze shifted back to you, scrutinizing you with a sharpness that almost seemed to pierce through the haze of frustration Kaveh was feeling, “And this must be the stray I’ve been hearing so much about.”

“Stray? Careful with your words, I bite,” You echoed the word with a flicker of annoyance, the corners of your mouth twitching downward as your eyes narrowed. Kaveh, too caught up in the whirlwind of thoughts, barely registered the subtle shift in the atmosphere—until he saw it. Small flecks of dark energy, swirling and bubbling up from the surface of the floor like ripples in a disturbed pool, were slowly spreading outward. Kaveh had never seen anyone—let alone you—manifest something like that before. Even when he was hauling your limp body away from his paint water, you only acted as a limp body, “Bold choice of words for someone who looks like they blew in on a bad breeze."

Wanderer didn’t so much as flinch at the jab or the unsettling energy bubbling from the floor. His gaze remained steady, almost bored, as his hand flicked in a smooth motion, summoning a frenzied swirl of anemo that danced wildly in his palm, his expression betraying no sign of concern. Meanwhile, your ears flicked back, irritation flaring within the depths of your gaze, but a sly, almost mischievous grin crept across your face, as though you were ready for whatever came next.

"Spirited, aren’t you?" he mused, his voice as dry and unaffected as ever, "Usually, that’s just a mask for trouble."

"And you’re all business? What, are you his boss now?" You punctuated your question with an almost mocking tilt of your head, letting the tension in the air thicken.

"No," he said bluntly, voice devoid of warmth. Wanderer’s lip curled slightly in disdain, the sharpness of his gaze intensifying as he responded in a tone colder than before, every word clipped with precision, "I don’t have the time—or the patience—to monitor his poor decisions. I’m here because someone asked me to keep an eye on the bigger picture."

"Enough!" Kaveh barked, his voice ricocheting off the walls as he sprang to his feet. His finger jabbed accusingly toward Wanderer, the motion sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room, "If you two want to start duking it out, take it outside! I’ve had enough of this nonsense!"

Wanderer’s gaze remained inscrutable, his expression as neutral as ever, though there was a subtle shift in his eyes—something fleeting, almost imperceptible. The swirling anemo energy in his palm began to wane, dissipating in a controlled, deliberate manner as he flicked his wrist dismissively. The unspoken truce also retracted your claws as the dark elemental energy drifted back into the shadows as if it had never appeared in the first place.

"Overseeing you is hardly necessary," Wander replied, his tone returning to its smooth and cold tone, "The results of your decisions speak for themselves."

He stepped closer, his gaze sharpening on Kaveh, "Are you really prepared to handle the mess you've made? Do you have even the slightest idea of what you've invited into your life? Or are you just fumbling along, hoping it’ll all sort itself out?"

Kaveh’s jaw tightened, fingers twitching as if he might snap at Wanderer, but the words stuck in his throat. His room was a disaster—papers scattered like confetti, books in disarray, and an undeniable scent of half-eaten food filling the air. It was a mess, sure, but it was his mess. He glanced toward you, still sprawled out in the corner like you owned the place, and for a moment, his frustration wavered.

Sure, you were a walking, talking disruption, eating him out of house and home. But... you hadn’t been all that bad. At least you hadn’t burned the place down or knocked over any shelves yet. You were mostly quiet when you weren’t eating his food or moving things around in what he was starting to suspect was some bizarre attempt at helping. It wasn’t perfect, but somehow, despite the mess, things could’ve been worse. With a resigned sigh, Kaveh rubbed his temple and shot a glance at Wanderer. Regardless, Kaveh had taken on the responsibility to house you, even if it was a reluctant decision, but you were still his responsibility. Kaveh let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before waving a hand in Wanderer’s direction as if to brush off his concerns.

“Okay, fine. I’ll admit it—you’re right. I don’t really know who he is, where he came from, or why he insists on eating everything in sight like they’ve been cursed by a bottomless pit of hunger,” He shot you a pointed look, but there was no real malice in it, “But if he truly wanted me dead—whether for my so-called ‘poor decisions’ or because I’m his only source of free food—I think he would’ve made his move by now. I mean, he's had plenty of opportunities.”

He gestured vaguely toward the mess around him. “Like the first night, he crashed here? I was out cold. He could’ve done anything. Poisoned my food, set the place on fire, stolen my mora, or even used me as a chew toy for whatever dark energy nonsense he's capable of,” Kaveh waved his hand dramatically as though painting a dire scenario, then stopped, folding his arms with a huff, “But no. What did he do? He ate their fill, curled up in a corner, and passed out. Hardly the behavior of someone plotting my untimely demise.”

Kaveh turned to Wanderer, his tone shifting from exasperated to firm as he pointed a finger at him, “So, yes, maybe I don’t have all the answers. But at the very least, he's my responsibility right now. If anything goes wrong, it’s on me—not you. And as far as I’m concerned, this house has survived enough without you adding to the chaos. So, if you’d be so kind as to, I don't know, maybe don’t blow the place up, yeah? I’d very much appreciate it. I’m already stressed enough without adding structural repairs to the list.”

There was a brief pause as Kaveh adjusted the collar of his shirt and muttered under his breath, “Honestly, you’d think this house has a giant target painted on it the way things keep happening…”

Wanderer fixed Kaveh with a look that could only be described as utterly unimpressed, letting the heavy silence hang between them like a drawn-out sigh. His blue eyes bounced between the two of you and the tiniest hint of a smirk curled at the corner of his hips. Instead, he leaned back ever so slightly, his posture oozing casual indifference, and gave a shrug so languid it might as well have been an insult in itself.

“Choice,” he began, his voice slow and razor-edged with that detached condescension that always managed to crawl under Kaveh’s skin. Seriously, now that he thinks about it, where did Wanderer even come from to perfect that tone? “It’s the crutch people lean on when they can’t face the fact that they’re at the mercy of fate. A comforting little delusion, isn’t it? But you—”

Wanderer's lips curved into the faintest shadow of a smirk as he gestured vaguely up and down at Kaveh, “You’ve made your bed, Kaveh. Now get comfy.”

Well. That was a rather optimistic outlook. Really did wonders for Kaveh's self-esteem. Thank you for the pep talk—truly inspiring. He needs a better social life, he can only have one pessimistic realist in his life stomping on his poor little emotional heart.

"It’s not about optimism; it’s about reality," Wanderer continues with a new teasing edge, as if reading Kaveh's mind which he really hopes isn't possible, "Not everything goes according to plan, but hey—That’s the fun part, isn’t it? Keeps life… unpredictable."

The way Wanderer said it made Kaveh’s irritation spike, as though he genuinely took pleasure in the spectacle unfolding before him—or more specifically, Kaveh’s exasperation. For a moment, Kaveh paused, his frustration giving way to a fleeting sense of disbelief at just how far things had spiraled out of control. It didn’t ease his headache, but it did make him wonder if the universe was playing some elaborate joke at his expense.

"Fun? This?" he shot back, gesturing wildly to the room. Books were scattered across the floor, random objects you’d somehow decided were yours cluttered every surface, and the whole space felt like it had been turned into your personal domain of disorder, "If this is your idea of fun, I don’t even want to imagine what you’d consider a total disaster!"

Wanderer’s lips curled even further, a light yet equally heavy laugh escaping him, "Well, you could always take notes. You’re already halfway there."

He gave Kaveh a long, appraising look, his eyes flashing with a mix of mild amusement and something resembling skepticism. Kaveh stood his ground, still bristling with frustration, but there was a strange, unwavering conviction in his posture. While he didn’t seem to be particularly impressed by the show of defiance, but there was something in his gaze—a flicker of reluctant respect. It wasn’t approval, Kaveh knew, but it was something. Perhaps Wanderer had expected him to fold under the pressure, to back down in the face of the power difference between them all, but Kaveh wasn’t that easily swayed. Without a word, Wanderer gave a dismissive wave, his hat tipped once and his cloak swirling as he turned to leave. The faintest remnants of anemo stirred around his feet as he moved, but he didn’t look back. His visit, brief yet harsh just as the winds he uses, hung in the air, almost an afterthought. The door closed quietly behind him, leaving Kaveh alone once again.

Kaveh exhaled slowly, tension seeping from his shoulders, and for a brief moment, the weight of the situation lifted. The main source of concern had left, but there was a strange sense of having passed some kind of unspoken test. He didn’t know what Wanderer had seen, if anything at all, but Kaveh felt... a little more resolved. Even if Wanderer thought he was making a mistake, Kaveh had decided. He was going to handle this. He would handle it, somehow.

He glanced around his room, still a mess, still a monument to his questionable decisions. But it was his responsibility, and no amount of judgment was going to change that.

“Is he always this warm and fuzzy? Must be fun at parties.”

And he already spoke too soon.

You had been silent for what felt like an eternity, tucked away in the corner like a quiet spectator to the whole scene. The back-and-forth between Kaveh and Wanderer had been something to behold, the tension so thick you could almost taste it in the air. You had sat there, content to watch, half-amused by the spectacle and half-interested in how Kaveh would handle it. The way his frustration simmered, the way Wanderer barely seemed to care—it was all too entertaining. But now, the storm had passed. The tension had broken, and the silence in the room had settled into a comfortable lull. You could almost feel the scene winding down like a well-performed act. So, as the sound of Wanderer's footsteps faded, you finally pushed yourself up from the corner, stretching leisurely, and let a sly, mischievous grin spread across your face. The playful glint in your eyes returned, a clear signal that you were about to add your own touch to the show.

“You two have a weird vibe,” you remarked, still stretched out lazily on the floor, your posture an unholy mix of casual indifference and quiet mischief, “Are all your friends this charming?”

Kaveh gave you an exasperated glance, a thin line between his brows deepening as he muttered under his breath, “Not a friend. We're barely acquaintances.”

The words hung in the air, but you hardly noticed the growing tension. It only seemed to entertain you more. The silence between the two of you stretched for a few moments, thick and palpable until you broke it once again—oblivious to the discomfort you were causing. You propped yourself up on one elbow, looking over at Kaveh with a grin that was equal parts mischievous and playful.

“You’re a good guy, Kaveh. I think I might stick around longer,” you said, voice light and teasing, though there was an edge of sincerity buried under your usual nonchalance. However, in spite of your sincerity, Kaveh’s eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line as if trying to will your words away.

“Not a chance,” he shot down bluntly, his tone more biting now, though the faintest trace of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth, “This isn’t permanent.”

You let his words slide right off, your grin only growing wider, a silent challenge in your eyes. With a lazy flick of your tail, you topple the lamp that Kaveh had sent you too many warning glances at, completely unbothered. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

---

Hi, thank you for reading! I couldn't explore the full lore of this reader, but if you're interested in knowing more, please reach out to the original creator: @thezboss

[starryylies]

This is my very first request on a blog, so here it goes! I’d love to hear your thoughts and opinions about Simon with a reader who has lots of siblings (both older and younger) or perhaps is an elementary school teacher. I teach elementary kids myself, and it would mean the world to me if you could explore this idea. If it’s not something you can do, that’s totally okay too! Wishing you an amazing day, lovie! <33

The coolest ‘solder’ Simon riley

Si with an s/o who’s an elementary school teacher

AAAAA I’m so honoured for that!! 😭😭 no joke like seriously thank uuuu. Thank u sm for the req and I hope u like it 🩷🩷

And I made the header and drawing myself, I wrote and drew this during a long car drive so pls don’t judge 😭😭

He found out about your job the day he came over to your house, he was taken aback by the amount of ‘best teacher’ and ‘favourite maam’ cards you had.

While you made him a cuppa he lurked in your living room looking at all the messy drawings you had framed on your walls.

It made him feel a stinging ache in his heart because it reminded him of the drawings his nephew Joseph gave him.

As you told him about how you thought of each student as your own, he was enamoured

He adored the fact that you took your student’s well-being and artwork so seriously.

He’s the type of boyfriend/husband who listens to your student’s daily shenanigans in the classroom intently.

He also remembers all your students’ name’s, their likes and dislikes, which ones are mischievous and which ones are quiet

When you asked him to come at your school and give a small presentation to your students for career day so they can see a soldier- he was very reluctant but with loads of pleading and kisses, he agreed.

The second he entered the classroom, the noise and chatter all fell silent.

The kids were in awe of the big 6’2 man wearing a black vest that said ‘SAS’ and a skull baklava.

As Simon told your students about his job and how he gets to fight ‘bad guys’, a few kids started clapping at every opportunity they got.

After the presentation, all the kids raised their hands, asking all sorts of questions ranging from- have you ever killed anyone? Do you use guns?? Can you do a backflip…?

Simon answered all the questions trying his best to make it PG and well, not violent.

After the session ended a few kids came up to him and gave him a ‘coolest solder’ card and asked him to come back again. (I did the misspelling purposely cuz as a kid I lost marks for spelling soldier incorrectly)

It’s safe to say he will come back again and he will bring riley too :))

[plomegranate]

i love palestinian and arab culture so much.

my grandma wearing thobes around the house and making us tamriyeh. my cousins wedding when we all wore thobes and keffiyehs and took photos downtown and we danced with someone playing the guitar on the street and this lady stopping us to tell us we all looked so beautiful. walking the graduation stage in a thobe. the girl who liked to guess arab peoples ethnicities telling me "you're wearing tatreez... do you want me to write 'palestinian' on your forehead?" the keffiyeh my brother keeps on the drivers seat of his car.

my dad sending me off to my last semester of college with 2 pomegranates and a jar of palestinian olive oil. my cousins wife coming up with new ways to make zaatar and cheese pastries. me and my grandma sitting on the floor and making waraq 3neb- my job was to separate the leaves so she could roll them easier. my mom sending me and my brother to school with eid cookies for my teachers and tasking us with delivering some to the neighbors. my aunt glaring at me and piling more food on my plate and then asking if i was still hungry (i wasnt). my mom always telling me to invite my friends and cousins over for dinner and asking me what they like to eat. my family getting my dad knafeh instead of cake for his birthday. the man who told me i made the "best fetteh in the western hemisphere".

the man in the shawarma shop who gave me my fries for free and baklava i didnt order because we spoke about being palestinian while he took my order. the person on tumblr who i bonded with because we are from the same palestinian city. the girl i met on campus who exclaimed "youre palestinian? me too!" because i was wearing my keffiyeh. the girl in my class that showed me the artwork about palestine her dad made and donated for fundraising. the couple in the grocery store who noticed my palestinian shirt and talked with me for 20 minutes and ended up being a family friend. the silly palestinian kids i tutored sighing in disappointment when i told them i was born in america because they were hoping that id have been born "somewhere cooler". my friends family who bought me dinner despite me being there by chance and having met me for the first time the day before.

the boys starting uncoordinated dabke lines in my high school's hallways. the songs about the longing and love for our land. the festivals and parties and gatherings where everything smells like shisha and oud. memories of waiting in the car for an hour as my parents talked at the doorway of their friends homes. my cousins and i showing up at each others homes with cake or fruit or games as if it was the first time we ever visited even though we always say "you dont have to".

kids stubbornly helping to clean and make tea after a meal while being told to go sit down because they are guests. the necklaces in the shape of our home countries. people hugging and laughing and acting as if theyve known each other for years because they come from the same city or know people with the same last name. the day i finally got to bully my friends into letting me pay the bill because i had a job and they were still students. my moms friend who calls us every time she's at the grocery store to see if we need something

palestinian people are so resilient and hardworking and charitable. they love their culture and their community and are so quick to share and welcome anyone in. everyday i am so thankful and proud to be part of such a warm and lovely culture

[tenuousnessless7]

As someone who likes to cook/bake for the people I love I am always giddy whenever a piece of media uses food as a shorthand to establish relationship dynamics (even if it’s not something one character made for another - the baklava scene at the beginning of the Old Guard comes to mind). And obviously there’s a lot of this in Lockwood & Co, but an underrated moment imo is when Lockwood requests ghormeh sabzi from George in episode 2, because it establishes so much about their relationship so quickly. Not just in the warmth of the request (“I’ll love you forever, mate”), but also because this is a dish we can assume George introduced Lockwood to because it’s Persian, and he’s requesting it after an extremely rough night, which suggests that it’s become a comfort meal for him. And the implications of how much George must cook for Lockwood and how much Lockwood relies on George are so apparent in that simple request. Idk it just gives the friendship a sort of lived-in feeling that sells, very quickly, how close they are.

[victoria-grimesss]

tear you apart - part II

masterlist

-> Pairing: König x fem!reader

-> Words: 3.5k

-> Warning: MDNI! nfsw, fem!reader, dominant!könig, size difference, over the desk, blindfold, unprotected sex, rough sex but there’s aftercare, google translate German.  

~> A/N: first time writing smut please go easy on me I beg of thee. 

It’s been a couple days since the training session with König. You've built up a nice routine around the new base and made some friendly conversations with some other new recruits both bonding over the complexities of your new home away from home. 

Would it be weird to say you miss the presence of the colonel? 

Is it strange that you’ve already become so attached to having him near those few times. Having his eyes gaze into you as though you’re all that exists? 

No right? 

 Right. 

 He haunts your dreams, appears to you when you’re most restless to smooth your hair under his touch and whisper sweet things to you, how he wants to be your eternal love, to live a life filled with passion and fire. Your veins run with lava as his hand in your hair traces down to your neck, so small in my grasp, he tells you, how easy it would be to wrap my hand around and squeeze, he says it so sweetly to you. You hum listlessly, lost in his gaze and willing for his touch. You are mine and mine only you understand? You always wake before he even takes off a glove, you're drenched in sweat and the blankets stick to you. But these dreams are common since you’ve met him. You wonder if he dreams the same; if he’s coming to you in these dreams and expressing his deepest desires. 

Silly girl you think, he wouldn’t. 

 Sometimes you think you see him, the corner of your eyes play tricks on you. He’s too big to move that fast, but you feel the burn of his eyes on the back of your head when you’re in the kitchen making your morning drink at times. It feels the same as it did when he laid eyes on you in the meeting room, electric.

 “L/N!” You turn, it’s your captain.

“Sir.”

“Look honey I’m runnin late and these papers need to go to the big guy you mind handing them over? Thanks a lot.” He basically shoved them into your arms and you have to gather them up quickly as to not let them end up as a heap on the cold floor. This whole interaction lasts the better of 30 second.

Your eyes roll at the pet name and how this work could have been shoved on anyone else but no, gotta be the new girl. 

A new girl who most definitely totally doesn’t have a crush *ehem* ~ creepy infatuation with the boss. ~ 

 You vaguely remember the way to his office; the captain shot some directions at you as he walked away from handing off his task to you. 

To the left then the right then the door second to last one on the right. You repeat these as you readjust your grip on the papers.

 As you approach you grow more and more nervous, it’s just your super-hot boss who you’re giving papers to nothing more nothing less. But your hand stays still at your side, your other full of papers.

Just knock.

Your hand is in front of the door, and you knock loudly making your presence known.

 “Enter.” He sounds just as he did last time. Domineering.

You open the door slowly, the light in the hall behind you flickers and your heart beats in time with the moth's wings that fly directly towards that light. You feel like that moth drawn to the light. 

He sits at his desk, papers in his hand, he’s shed his utility helmet and usual mask for a plain black baklava which is fitting all the same for him. The whole room smells like him, it envelopes you and swallows you whole as you close the door. 

His eyes stay on the papers but his concentration isn’t on them anymore, it’s on you.

You’ve come to him, as he thought you would. His mind has been on nothing but you, your file is always on his desk, he’s memorized every word on it.

His favorite colors are now those of your eyes, hair, lips and skin. You’ve become his very own Medusa and he can’t help but become stone when he sees you. If only you knew the grasp you had on him. If only you would grasp him and hold him tight.

 “You have something for me yes?” The lamp behind him casts him as a shadow and illuminates his figure but his eyes are bright.

You walk closer, the room is quiet besides some soft music on the record player on the far side of the room next to another door. 

“The captain requested I bring you these papers, important intel I suppose.”

“Shame. And here I was thinking you’ve just come to visit me.” There’s that teasing tone again. 

Your cheeks heat up despite your best effort to maintain a cool façade. You’re upset you don’t have a mask to hide your expression.

 You hand him the papers, neatly organized now. He reaches with one hand and takes them from you, his gloved hand brushes yours and you lock eyes, goosebumps race up your arm from the point of contact.

You grin and look down.

“I would think you’d have more interesting visitors than me colonel.”

He grows stiff at your mention of rank, calling him by his title. 

His eyes scan the papers noting the important parts.

“Schatz, you are the most important visitor I’ve had the honor of having.” His gaze is heavy on you.

You are still at his words, is he insinuating what you think he is? 

He’s holding bait right in front of your face. 

“I highly doubt that sir, a guy like you must have many visitors….I’m sure you have many beautiful suitors.”

You bite.

He chuckles, it’s low and deep and he groans at the end. 

“I have my eyes on one Ja. She has become the object of my attraction.”

Your heart skips a beat wondering if he means another woman besides you. You bite your lip wearing at the skin. You open your mouth to start and then close it.

He watches your mouth as you do so and wishes to feel it upon him, as you take him wholly.

“Speak, do not hold your tongue.” 

“I-I um I suppose I’m just curious as to what woman could gain your attraction. To be honest sir I thought you were married.”

His attention is most definitely no longer on the papers, or anything job related. His mind wholly encompassed by you and your words. 

He hums lowly and you imagine that it vibrates his chest.

“Come to this side of my desk Schatz.”

You obey, walking to the other side of his desk and standing next to him, facing the door you entered in.

“My desk, do you see any family portraits?”

“No sir.”

He takes off his gloves and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.

“Do you see a wedding band?”

“No sir.”

After this he stands, his full height towering above you combined with the soft music, dim lighting, and the way he looks down at you makes your knees weak and your lower stomach burn. He walks over to the door you entered and stands for a moment. You wonder if you’ve asked too much, dug yourself a hole and he’s about to ask you to leave.

“I’m sorry if I stepped over the line I didn’t mean it, I can leave if you want.” He locks the door. Your heart locks up all the same at the sound.

“No, Schatz I’d rather you stay, and I think you'd rather stay too. Am I right?” He turns his head to look at you and the way he’s standing you can see all the muscles in his back defined from the lighting and you yearn to rake your nails over them and leave a well-deserved mark. 

“I would.” Your words are breathy, and you hardly know if you spoke at all but his response confirms you did.

He walks back over to you and your feet are stuck in cement. He stops when he's behind you. You can hear his breathing behind you so you know he’s actually there, he's real and this is real.

“You know I watch you right? Does it frighten you?”

“No colonel.”

“None of that here, not anymore. Just König ok Süßes Mädchen

Your knees actually nearly do give out this time, God he’s too much. Your breathing is quick now and you feel feverish he’s not even touching you yet but standing there and you don’t know what will kill you first your rapid heart rate or the anticipation.

“You want me, Ja?

“God yes.” You nearly whine and he lets out a deep laugh. He readjusts his stance.

“Do you usually get this worked up before you’re even touched?” His voice is lighter now, he’s teasing.

“Only for you.” You say almost immediately.

“Say that again.” His voice is dark again and it makes your stomach twirl.

“Only for you König.” You’ve stepped headfirst into the lion’s den and you know there's no going back from this, you thought it was just a silly crush but this is so much more, for the both of you.

He inhales deeply and lets it out, even with his mask you can feel it lightly on the back of your head. 

His head is spinning with thoughts of what he wants to do to you, you were making him crazy. 

“Ich schwöre bei Gott, Liebling, du wirst mein Tod sein.” [I swear to God darling, you will be my death.] You're not sure what he said but you hear his groan at the end so it must be erotic. 

“Konig, please.”

“Shhh quiet Schätzchen.” 

There's a beat of silence and you think your heart stops then you feel his hand on your back. It travels up until he gets to your hair, he grabs a handful of it but doesn't pull or tug, just holds. You’re growing wetter by the minute and you ache deeply. You rub your thighs together and that’s when he pulls. 

He tugs you back into him and your head is pointed up now so he's looking directly down at you. You whimper and his eyes are nearly pitch black as he stares at you, he drinks you in as if you’re the last bit of water on earth.

“Scheisse you know if we do this there is not going back, I will not let you lay with another and I will never lay with anyone besides you.” His words echo in your head and you weigh your options,

Option A: sleep with König, your superior and maybe face some very serious consequences.

or…

Options B: go back to your room and absolutely resort you what’s in your bedside drawer to relieve yourself…..

Survey says, option A all the way.

“I wouldn't want it any other way sir.” You make sure to say it extra breathily as to draw him into the spiral he's sent you into.

His grip tightens ever so before he releases and you stumble a bit but a hand on your waist catches you and the coals within you are stoked even more to where they rage into an inferno.

“I would like to share more of myself with you eventually but for now... This will have to do.”

He says no more before fabric is enclosed around your eyes and your vision darkens. It must be his regular mask because it smells so strongly of him it makes you dizzy, his scent all encompassing.

“König.”

“My name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips, I beg to hear more of it.”

His hands, both of them, are on your middle now he holds you steady and moves them upwards and cups your breasts above your uniform you let out a soft breath.

He closes his eyes and inhales deep against your crown.

“I knew you would smell wonderful Mein Schatz. You feel like heaven in my hands you know that?”

His hands move to the buttons of your uniform and he wastes no time in discarding it to the ground along with your undershirt. 

“Turn around.” 

You turn around and he once again grabs tight on your hair pulling your head back and exposing your neck.

He pulls up his baklava knowing he won’t be seen.

He bites.

Hard.

You let out a shameless moan and quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but he grabs your wrist and holds it behind you back your other hand is grabbing onto his hair.

“You’ll express your pleasure. I want everyone to hear so they know I’m occupied.”

He’s sucking dark bruises into your neck and leaving teeth marks in his wake. He lavishes in the way your skin tastes. He knows you sweat at some point today and your perfume is on his tongue.

“König please, I need more.”

“Gladly.” You feel him smile on your skin.

Next thing you know you’re spun around again and you’re pushed down over the desk his hand heavy on your neck.

“Stay.” He commands.

His hand is removed and he works at your pants pulling them down and to your ankles, he slides his hands all around the newly exposed skin and you hear his drop to his knees.

“Mein Gott, you are something to behold, you are beautiful you know that?”

You blush the heat growing hotter between your thighs.

There’s no time to respond before he’s diving into your heat tongue hot and wet upon you as he sucks and licks like his life depends on it.

“You taste divine, I could die here and die a happy man Liebling, scheiße” 

You moan and your cheek touches the cold wood of the desk as he continues his ravaging.

“König please, I need-need more.”

He hears your pleas and it spurs him on, he’s desperately hard in his pants and palms at it a few times before collecting your wetness and entering one then two fingers. 

“Is this enough for you? Or do you need more? So bedürftig.” He teases as he pumps them in the out in a come-hither motion getting quicker and quicker. 

Your breathing picks up. It’s in short pants now as you get close and closer to the edge. He can feel you squeezing his fingers tighter and he latches his mouth back on as his fingers works faster.

“Come on Schatz give me a show.” He smiles and teases and he just can’t get enough even as you try to thrash and tense on his fingers reaching your high you chant his name and he’s heard nothing sweeter.

“You make such beautiful noises Meine Liebe .” He bites at the inside of your thighs as he stands.

You hear a belt buckle and a zipper undone, mouthwatering in anticipation as you’re still coming down from your previous high.

He takes himself out and strokes it slowly a few times placing a hard harshly on your hip as he lines himself up and teases the tip at your entrance.

He’s massive compared to you and he’s burning up looking and predicting the way you’ll feel around him.

“Schatz, one last chance to change your mind.” He grits through his teeth.

“Please König, I need you badly.” 

He takes not a second longer after you answer to sink fully into you and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s huge, incredible deliciously huge and the stretch of him knocks the breath from your lungs and he bends over you, his whole body laying just above you so his mouth is right next to your ear.

“You feel even more incredible than I could ever dream, you wrap around me so sweetly.”

He pulls back and braces both of his hands on your hips with a bruising grip and starts moving, he’s deliberate and calculated with his movements thrusting deep and harsh.

You moan loudly with the blindfold all your other senses are heightened. You grasp and scratch behind you trying to slow his movements you mind hazy with only thought of how good he’s making you feel. 

“P-please, god König.” You can hardly make out your own thoughts, he groans and continues his onslaught of torture on you.

You try to slow him again but this time he takes a hold of your wrists and slams them down onto the desk. You continue to moan with abandonment.

“You’ll take what given to you, understand?” He leans down and kisses your cheek, panting you can feel the sweat on his face combining with yours.

Leaning back, he watches the way he enters you and the noises are unholy, seeing you bent over his desk so willing and drunk off of him nearly makes him cum right then and there.

Suddenly a knock at the door.

He doesn’t stop and you clamp both hands over your mouth now. He growls deep in his chest.

“Busy.” He grits out.

They knock again but he doesn’t stop.

“Are you fucking kidding me? c’mon be a good girl and let them know I’m busy.” His accent is heavy and laced with need.

You can hardly think straight and his words sound underwater. You only become semi-conscious again when he picks you by your shoulder, up holding you up to his chest by your neck as he continues his onslaught.

“Take your hands off your mouth unless you want me to tie those up too, I told you to tell them I’m busy.” He growls right by your ear and he thrust particularly hard and deep you choke on your sobs and a moan rips from your throat. It’s so erotic you hardly recognize yourself, the last knock was cut short, and you hear quick shuffling down the hallway. 

“Braves Mädchen, so good for me. Fuck, need you to cum with me I won’t last much longer.”

“F-fuuck don’t stop.”

The coil within you is growing and winding and you feel you’re heading headfirst into a spiral panting and calling his name with no care for the outside world you reach up and claw at what you can reach of his expansive shoulders certainly leaving marks and he groans and grinds to show his appreciation.

“Cmon, give it to me, give it to me.” He says, each thrust his hand on your hips growing even tighter and his thrusts getting sloppy as he nears his high. He grips your jaw now slipping a finger into your mouth and you taste yourself on them and the coil snaps.

Your ears are ringing, white blinds your vision, and you’re overcome with oxytocin unlike no other.

König fills you deeply grinding to the hilt so none of him is left exposed.

You feel boneless and limp in his arms but completely and utterly satisfied.

The blindfold is removed and he’s tapping your cheek, the finger that was in your mouth leaving spit in its wake but you have no care.

“Y/N, Y/N, come in back to me Schatz.” You open your eyes and hum.

“So good.” You hiccup and you see he has his baklava fully on but his eyes are crescent shape, his eyes look lovely when he’s smiling.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He’s pulling out and you wince but he’s quickly pulling his desk chair out for you to sit and gain you sanity back.

“That’s putting it lightly...” you can’t seem to wipe the dumb smile plastered on your face.

He’s pulling up his pants and re-buckling his belt, you get butterflies watching him do it.

He then walks to what looks like a bathroom connected to the office, coming back with a washcloth and cleans you gently kissing the top of your head.

“Cmon let’s get you dressed then yeah. As much as I love seeing you in my chair like that, we’ll play that scenario out another day.” He picks up your panties and stuffs them into his pocket and helps you put on your pants.

“I need those König.” 

“I’ll buy you some more, these are for my personal collection.” You huff, legs feeling like jelly, and he rubs your back as you’re buttoning your jacket.

“Very well, I won’t fight a losing battle for those, at least they’re not my favorite pair-

“I’d like those as well.”

“Stop it!” You both laugh and he sounds so wonderful worry free. 

He gives you some water and sits back at his desk. You stand in the same spot you were in before everything happened.

“That was a great pleasure and I hope it brought you the same.” God he’s so formal after just rearranging your guts, you laugh like a schoolgirl.

“I did, I um, would love to do this again, or just spend more time with you.”

His heart lights up and he knows he’s got you for good,

“Schatz, my door is always open to you, granted both my office and bedroom door.” He winks at you and you blush.

You walk to the door and look back at him before you leave.

“Don’t forget about those papers I brought you.” You fake authority.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs and watches you until the door is closed.

He takes your panties out of his pocket already missing your presence next to him, next time can’t come soon enough.

[brightlotusmoon]

My husband absolutely loves gulab jamun which is way too heavy for me. I'm gonna request he make lokma. Yesterday he made baklava with pistachios since I hate walnuts. He keeps making beignets. I should marry him.

[nocofamilyau]

Did Cody ever achieve his goal of being a billiards champion as mentioned in Before We Die? Actually, since I asked, did the other gen 1 contestants achieve their goals from the song (excluding DJ and Bridgette whose goals were the most achievable)?

I hc that Dave also likes cue sports and Cody is secretly thrilled over this cuz it means father and son bonding.

While nothing too huge, Cody did get that billiards champion title in college, mainly just from clearing everyone out at the campus bar. As for the others, I'll just go in order the song went in (minus DJ and Bridgette like you said):

Leshawna, while not a billionairess per se, is pretty well-off working as a counsellor and running her own teen help centre in the heart of the city where she lives nearby

Sierra's life goal definitely did not happen officially (sucks to be her)

Lindsay made a guest appearance as a one-off character on a once-popular soap opera in her early 20's

Courtney would have definitely achieved her dream of being a lawyer

After the whole boyfriend-kissing love triangle fiasco of World Tour, Gwen probably didn't have the best time during the final stretch of high school so she skipped prom entirely (she believed it was worth it in the end)

Harold has a sick ninja star and katana collection at home and occasionally works summers as a head counsellor at Sensei Steve's Ninja Camp

Well, while nobody took any notice, Alejandro was able to keep a job taming lions for a while under a different name

Owen's actually quite well known across the country for his 'Oh-Nuts', a nut butter-filled pastry that's basically a fusion between a cream donut and baklava. He invented it while messing around in the kitchen with the munchies one night, but didn't reach true popularity until he tried making them on one of those Masterchef-like shows he participated on (it's one of the few reality competition shows he won AND managed to get something out of)

I have no idea how much of a bucket list item fixing up parallel bars can be, but I'm guessing Tyler must have achieved it at some point to... questionable results

As for that headcannon about Dave,, I will gladly take it and make it real

[rosegolden13]

Of Bites and Bonds

Part 1 of a mini-fic series with vampire!Ghost x accidentally sired!reader

1.2k words cw: blood, mild gore, death(?) but not really, vampirism- biting and sire bonds, power dynamics, lots of swearing lol

You were meant to die. You weren’t meant to have bitten down on his hand when he covered your screams as he tore into your neck. In the thrill of the the feast, he had not even felt the way your teeth had managed to snag on the tough skin of his palm and draw blood. The frenzy brought on by drinking your blood was enough to block out any pain he would have felt. And when he finally pulled away from your limp body, the life sucked out of you, hardly a liter of blood left in your veins, he didn’t notice the nearly black crimson smudge by your lips, his venom already coursing through you, bringing you new life. He was far too busy admiring the wound on your neck, sparkling in the moonlight like liquid rubies. 

It was all a mistake. You were meant to decompose in that wood, not turn into a creature damned by God and abandoned by humanity. Do forgive him. He’s not even a century old, an amateur really. 

It takes the body a week to turn. A week of excruciating pain, the price to pay for cheating death. Only, you did not ask for this. You’re all too aware for those seven long days, senses painfully heightened beyond human limits. Body still rigid with death, you’re locked in place, forced to endure. The screeches of birds all too loud, the frantic beat of a deer’s hooves against the forest floor as it flees from your unnatural existence. When you’re freed from this delerious state of torment, an icy fever of a turning, it’s pure panic.

A vampire, that’s what you are now. But it should be impossible. They were ousted from your country years ago, policies put in place to send them all out and ensure they stayed out… Clearly, at least one did not get the memo.

Each movement is clumsy, too fast and strong. You’re stumbling on your feet when you finally manage to stand, leaving a dent in the bark of a tree when you reach out to balance against it. Scents and sounds are overwhelming- thousands of little heartbeats pitter-patter from the critters of the woods. There’s not much thought to your actions as you follow a feeling, a tug in your mind, lurching towards it. This strange pull is the only thing that feels right. Your teeth might ache, your body weak and starving, but this inexplicable tug, tug, tug feels like a compass guiding you home.

It only gets stronger when you tear into a clearing. The sounds of the forest seem to fade a little when you lock eyes with him. Him. 

He’s leaving a small cabin, heading down a gravel path towards a rusty pick-up truck, but he stops when he sees you. There’s a black baklava covering most of his face but you could recognize those brown eyes tinted with a slight sheen of red anywhere. They’re the only solid image you could conjure in your mind during your change. 

“You… You did this to me.” The words aren’t filled with as much bitter hatred as you hoped they would be. The memories race back all at once and the feelings along with them. Fear and anger battling with an instinctive knowledge that you need him. Where is this all coming from? 

“For fuck’s sake…” is the first thing he says to you, his accented voice thick and deep. He knows what you are, knows he made a terrible, terrible mistake. It would be the smartest choice to simply kill you. But just as you feel the connection, he feels the same. It would go against everything inside him to hurt you. “Jus’ my bloody luck. Why didn’ ya jus’ die?” His voice is a grumble as if he’s the one that has a right to be irritated by the situation.

“You killed me! You- you bit me and-...” The words are frantic and delerious as they come out of your mouth, the panicked confusion finally catching up to you. Before you can even get that far, though, he’s before you in a second and his large hand is gripping the back of your neck, pushing you towards his pick-up truck.

“Wait! You can’t just- I’m not going anywhere with you!” You try to duck out from his grip but he’s far too quick for you. He makes a fist around the roots of your hair, tight enough to keep you in place but not enough to hurt.

“Come on,” is all he offers as explanation, voice still carrying that annoyed quality. 

Fuck him. You raise your leg and then kick his ankle with as much momentum as you can gather. Given your new strength, his weight gives out and he lets go of your hair. Your eyes widen as you watch him land on his ass. Though it’s more than you intended, you take the opportunity to scramble away. 

“Goddamn, baby vamp… Come ‘ere.” He hisses as he gets up, brushing off his dark jeans with a quick and forceful swipe of his hands. You catch a glimpse of a flash of red in his eyes. His anger settles over you, crawling under your skin in a way that leaves you entirely unnerved. “I said, come ‘ere.” 

The words seem to reverberate through you and before you can even process why they felt like that, you’re walking towards him again. The actions are your own, but that compulsion to do what he says? That is instinctive. 

You shake your shoulders a little, trying to brush off the thick feeling his control. “What did you just do to me?” Your voice is quieter, resistance slipping through your fingers like you’re trying to grasp water. 

He doesn’t answer and it sends a fresh wave of resentment through you but this time, you don’t protest as he nudges you towards the car. Despite the fact that he killed you, seems to lack basic communication skills, and has some sort of sway over your mind, there’s a deep and seemly ancient part of you, beyond your rational mind, that trusts him wholly. And there’s an even deeper and illogical desire inside you to not upset him again, to make him proud. 

There’s no time to make sense of these bizarre feelings now, not as he basically carrols you into the backseat. Huffing, you settle into the seat, watching as he gets into the driver’s seat. You wait a beat for an explanation but when he just starts driving, you know one is not coming. 

Frustration building, you smack the shoulder of his seat, the leather easily tearing under your nails and the stuffing pushing through the torn leather in plush clouds. “You can’t just turn me into a fucking vampire, use some mind magic on me, and then not explain any of it!”

He doesn’t even react to your outburst, merely glancing at you in the rearview mirror before looking back at the road. “Buckle up.”

“Asshole…” you mutter, hesitating a moment but eventually doing as he says because not doing it leaves you antsy and jittery. You glare at his face in the rearview mirror and the scowl on your face causes your new fangs to prick into your lips. “Ow…” Reaching up, you rub the small hurt. 

You swear you can hear him let out a chuckle, the sound muffled by his mask.

Hope you enjoyed this because part 2 is being cooked up rn! Can you tell I love Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, and Interview with a Vampire lmao

[bunny-jpeg]

girl's place - simon "ghost" riley

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader rating: 18+ summary: You remembered playing with matches as a child. You also remembered playing with lighters as a teenager that was paired with the occasional shoplifting. You weren't a problem child, but you had you niches of delinquency.

And somehow you ended up in the military. While most were in active duty, you found comfort on base working in the offices. Most of the day was spent filing paperwork. But unlike most of your fellow soldiers, you had a shadow. Or perhaps a ghost.

If the military didn't scrub away the delinquent behaviour that lingered from youth, Simon Riley made sure you were next to saintly.

tags: pwp, power dynamic, rough sex, punishment, spitting, spanking, degrading, a touch of misogyny (aka a lot of it), mean!ghost, breeding kink

a/n: okay, i want to apologize to feminism...

join my discord! (18+)

You remembered playing with matches as a child. You also remembered playing with lighters as a teenager that was paired with the occasional shoplifting. You weren't a problem child, but you had your niches of delinquency.

And somehow you ended up in the military. While most were in active duty, you found comfort on base working in the offices. Most of the day was spent filing paperwork. But unlike most of your fellow soldiers, you had a shadow. Or perhaps a ghost.

If the military didn't scrub away the delinquent behavior that lingered from youth, Simon Riley made sure you were next to saintly.

-

You knew you were in trouble the moment you stepped foot in your ghost's quarters. Simon was there in his baklava, a tank top that showed off all the toned muscles of his arms, and uniform pants. It was probably as casual as he could get.

He was reading something you didn't get the title of before he put it down and rose from his desk. You could see the assortment of weapons, mainly knives on the desk. It made you swallow nervously.

  ”Hello, love.“ He said as he approached you. He was so much bigger than you, not only in height but in sheer size. It always put him in the more domineering position.

  ”Hello, Simon.“ You replied.

You could feel his smile under the mask. You shifted from one foot to another. He took you by the chin and made you face him.

  ”A little birdie told me that you've been misbehaving.“ He tilted his head to the side, “You know how I feel about bad girls.“

Your eyes darted in another direction, ”It wasn't even that bad.“

He chuckled softly, ”Getting a little too aggressive with the new recruits is quite bad. I heard a few had to go into the infirmary.“ He paused for a moment, ”You should be in your office doing your paperwork. Not training the new men. You're simply too small.“

  ”I'm not that small.“ You tried to correct it.

He replied, ”If not small then weak. If they got a good right hook in then I'd have to go kill someone.“ He then added, ”Look at me when I'm talking to you.“

You had no choice but to look at him once more. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, then pulled his mask up which was followed by him leaning down for a kiss. He further invaded your space and made you feel smaller. Weaker, even.

You moaned into the kiss, it was firm. But not wet and messy. He wrapped his other arm around you and pulled you close to him. With your bodies pressed together, you could feel his erection in his uniform pants.

  ”Simon.“

  ”It's sir tonight. You don't get the privilege of using my name when you're being a stupid girl.“ He growled. He really didn't like you out of the office and possibly in the line of danger.

You whimpered in response and you leaned into him for another searing kiss. You wrapped your arms around  him and kept your eyes closed as you kissed him. You whimpered when his grasp tightened once more.

When he pulled away and put the mask back up. Those hard eyes stared down at you. He waited for a moment before he reached behind you and grabbed the meat of your ass.

  ”Now are you gonna be a good girl, or stand there?“ You could tell he was raising his eyebrows. He used both hands to grab at your ass, then he left a quick smack across the cheek. “Get to it.”

You scurried to the desk and pulled down your pants. Which left you bottom half bare except for the pretty pink panties you wore. A drastic difference between the uniform pants you wore and the delicate underwear that was underneath them.

But only he knew you wore them. You said they were comfortable, but he believed that it was because you liked to tease him. The little secret you shared.

He was close behind. And from behind you, he grabbed your throat and pulled the panties down to your knees. He then guided you forward. Some of the paper on the desk was shoved to the edges to make room for you. You felt a heat run through you as you were manhandled.

It was him trying to send a message, you were simply a weak little girl. And you had to listen to the much bigger, stronger man. Even when he tried to teach you this lesson, it never seemed to stick. You were dead set on defying, Simon.

Such a silly girl.

He kept his hand on your throat, the calloused fingers remained firm on your skin. Not enough to bruise you, but enough to keep you in your place. Once again, a reminder.

He was the dominant one in the relationship. The one who wore the 'pants'. You didn't have to worry your little head about anything while he was around.

You just had to sit there and go 'yes, sir'. And let him fuck you silly once in a while.

  “You've been a bad girl, lovie.” He said in your ear, “You go around with your head held high. You think you're above it all, that you are Miss Wonder Woman who can do it all.” He chuckled darkly in your ear, “But I know better.”

You swallowed, “Simon.”

  “No, no.” He said, “I know you better than yourself. You've been told your entire life that you can do anything you put your mind to. That you're unstoppable. No man can clip your wings.” He slapped your ass, the sound filled the room.

You let out a whimper.

  “I know what you want. Tired of proving yourself. Tired of fighting to be the top dog. I'm pretty sure if I told you I bought us a little place in the country, you'd have your bags packed by the count of four.“ His voice was low, in contrast with the loud noise of his slaps.

Your cheeks grew warm from his words. Inside of you there was a war waging between him being right and him being wrong. But you'd never admit to him that he was right. You'd branish your teeth and prove your worth till he fucked the drive out of you.

  ”You know I'm right. You'd be in the car by the count of ten.“ He chuckled once more, ”Living out in the country, away from this. You'd be my wife, my little doll I kept safe at home. No need to play with the big boys when you can play house all day. Isn't that what most women want?“

  ”No.“

  ”Liar.“ He laid another slap on your ass, ”You know I hate liars.“ His voice was laced with venom, a hot rush went through you as he tightened his hold on your throat a little more.

  ”I enjoy my job.“

  ”But you'd enjoy raising my brats more.“ He replied.

The thought of him breeding you made your stomach flip and your pussy grow wetter. You felt flushed in the apples of your cheeks as he continued to swat at your ass.

He kept you pinned in place, he knew that he held power over you. You were just a dumb little girl trying to play with the big boys. But he knew better.

He laid a few more smacks across your ass as he continued his dirty talk. He wanted to make you as flustered as possible before he put you in your place.

  ”Poor little girl who never got the attention she needed, comes crawling to the biggest man on base and has him fuck all the girl power shit outta her. Makes her a dumb little doll droolin' on my cock. You should be at home makin' me dinner.” His voice was hot. It left you  trembling.

You tried to form a comeback but your mind drew to a blank. Your heart was racing and your ass was sore. You felt your body tremble from the situation you found yourself in. If your head was clearer you would've fought back with whatever he said. But instead you were second guessing yourself if he was right.

  “Yeah, you know I'm right, girlie.” His voice was dangerous and low again. He could probably hear your heartbeat, “Ra ra girl power cannot kill the idea that your place is between my legs, in a home I bought, raising the kids I put in ya.”

  “Simon.”

  “Don't start. You'll never win. So accept it, let me be the big strong man. You can be the cute little homemaker I fill up every evening.” He purred as he massaged your ass cheek with his strong hand, “Pretty girls like you should be kept dumb. Keep ya young.”

You let out a small whimper as you felt him grab into the muscle of your ass. His grip was hard and left you trying to buck away from him. But from the grip on your throat, you weren't going too far.

  “I could take you out.” You gave one last ditch effort to prove him wrong. You were stubborn like that. Like when you were told to stop playing with matches. When someone told you 'no', you doubled down.

He squeezes your throat once more and pushes you down onto the desk. Not hard enough to knock a tooth out, but enough to physically put you in your place. He laughed. It came from deep in his chest. Your comment HUMORED him. He leaned over you, his clothed cock up against your back. He was dangerous now, “Stupid little girl. They all think like that, but yet I'm still here. Everyone thinks they can kill a ghost. But not even a man could do it. What makes you think a silly little girl would be able to? I bet if I fucked you hard enough, you'd forget how to even hold a gun.”

You swallowed and squirmed under his rough touch, “Fuck you.”

  “Oh no, girlie. I'm going to fuck you. And I'm going to make sure that it all takes. Hard to be on the field when you got two little Riley boys inside of ya.” It was almost  a threat.

And yet you were aroused.

He rubbed his cock up against your ass more. Some of the wetness from your pussy smeared against the front of his uniform pants. He shuddered in response, he too was getting aroused.

He had you by the back of the neck now to keep you pinned to the wood of the desk. Under his rough touch, where you belonged.

  “I know you better. I know you want that kind of life. I know you hate this, that's why you're always actin' up. So I punished you, the only one who'll stand up to you. Maybe I should breed ya sooner rather than later. Leave you all achy and sore because my brats won't give you a moment of peace. Then you leave the army and move somewhere quiet to raise the hellions. But we're not stopping at two.” He let go of you to undo his pants, “I'm thinkin' closer to five. Something to keep your hands full.”

You stayed still as he got his impressive cock out his pants. You trembled as he rubbed it up against you, occasionally brushing against your pussy. You whimpered pathetically, which only made him chuckle.

   “Stupid girl.” He said.

  “Please.” You whimpered.

He smirked under the mask, “You'll learn.” Then with one hand on your neck and the other on his cock. He guided his length into your sweet sex.

You tensed up and shifted as best as you could to make the stretch more bearable. It still stings every time. It felt like it pushed your organs into your throat. Especially when he was battering your poor cervix.

He groaned, it came from deep in his chest as he felt your tight heat around his cock. It felt so good. It was a rush he couldn't find anywhere else.

  “See, a nice hole to fuck. A nice womb to breed. Now stay there and let me do all the work. Just try not to wake up the whole base by being a loud mouth whore.” His voice stung but it only made the slick between your legs grow.

Simon was something else in the bedroom. When he had you under his thumb like this. You felt your eyes roll back a little from the sheer force of his thrusts.

  “Fuck.” You moaned.

  “That's it, that's my girl. My good girl. See you don't have to be runnin' around like a lost puppy. You just need me to fill your holes and make ya feel good.” His voice was low and gruff. It made you hot all over.

  “Please, Simon.” You arched your back as his pace became brutal. You clawed at the wood of the desk and felt his hard cock bully against the end of your pussy.

 “I wanna mark ya, inside and out.” He said, “Keep ya nice and fat with my kids.” He chuckled as he pulled the mask up once more and began to kiss at your neck. His hands were on your breasts over your shirt.

He toyed with them, large hands massaged them. You let out a small noise from the tiny bit of pain he caused you. You arched your back more and held onto the desk tighter.

The sounds of sex filled the air between you two as he fucked you bareback. He was so domineering, so strong that it made you a little weak in the knees.

  “You're mine, lovie. Mine to fuck, breed, own.” He grunted, “No need to think with that head of yours when you got kids to chase down. At home, safe and sound. Where you belong.”

You whimpered and tried to come up with a response. But it was near impossible to come up with something when it felt like his cock was nudging up against your broca area in your head.

  “Please.”

He chuckled darkly, “That's what I thought. Good girl.” He continued his rough pace. The desk creaked under the both of you as he held you tightly against him. His hands grabbed at your breasts further.

You wondered how dark the bruises would be on your chest.

  “I can't get enough of you. That's why I have to keep ya safe. Keep you bred like a good girl, you'd like that wouldn't ya.”

  “Simon, ah!” You whimpered as you felt pleasure course through your body. You felt trapped between his thick body and the heavy wood of the desk as he battered against your womb.

He kissed your neck once more, “You'd look so good. Knowing I take care of everything. You just have to sit there and look pretty. Cook me some meals, put the kids to bed and stop this little goal of being the best.”

You swallowed. When he praised you like this, when you behaved you were his good girl. When he was able to soak your insides with his cum, you were his favorite girl.

He'd only breed a good girl. Not the delinquent you once were. He wanted a proper wife, who'd raise his kids RIGHT. He watched your back arched and came to the conclusion that you COULD behave.

You just needed a full womb first to reach your potential.

The two of you continued to fuck. You let out small moans as your body was used like a toy. Simon made sure to make you feel good even if it felt like he was moving your stomach into your throat.

  “Good breedin' girl.” He purred, “I make you good, silly girls like you need to be kept bred so you keep out of trouble. But don't worry, I'll make that happen. Nothing won't fix ya like a couple of kids and a big house.”

You whimpered and he turned your head to him so you could passionately make out. He rutted against you and your body screamed for him.

You gasped into the kiss as he grabbed your hips one more time. The sound of the desk scratching against the floor mixed with your noises and the general noises of sex was all you could hear in the room.

  “Please.” You moaned. You had been told your entire life that you could do anything. That you were invincible. Nothing could stop a powerhouse like you. As Simon said, ra ra girl power. But a part of you deep in your core wanted to be a dumb little housewife, servicing a husband and keeping the babies taken care of.

You moaned into the kiss once more before he pulled away and grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back. He leaned in and took in your scent.

  “I want to ruin you for other men.” He said honestly. His own primal urge to breed with the little girlie hanging around the base.

If he didn't breed you and kept you taken care of, then a worse man would. One who didn't know every inch of your skin, or didn't understand what your true intentions in life were.

But he'd take care of you, that was a promise. Nothing was going to stop him from taking what was his. And if he kept your womb nice and painted, then no other man could do it. He'd make sure you reeked of his cum at all times.

  “Ah!” You gasped.

  “Good girl.” He purred.

You felt pleasure begin to run through your body. Your body ached for him. Your legs trembled as he continued to thrust deep into you. It was a good kind of pain, the kind that left you panting.

  “Fuck.” He grumbled, “Fuckin' good girl for me.”

  “Please, Simon. Ah! Breed me.“ You groaned in response. The feeling was becoming overwhelming and left you in a state of euphoria.

You two panted and groaned as your bodies moved together. You held onto the wood and let him do as he wished with your body.

After all, he knew better.

With a few more hard thrusts, you both finished at the same time. You could feel his hot cum deep in you. You whined as you went flat against the desk, your brain felt like it had broken in half from the intense feeling.

Simo slowed down and laid on the last smack on your ass before he pulled the mask down. He held your hips and gave one last push inside of you to make sure it was all inside of you.

He chuckled and pulled out, ”Good girl.“ He said, ”Now take it all and make me a few brats. If not, we'll just keep trying'.“

His breathing was heavy as he pulled you away from the desk and got your underwear over your ass. THe drips of cum that spilled out made a dark patch on the front of the panties.

Your head was in a daze, your hair a mess. You couldn't even keep your mouth fully closed. He pushed back your hair and pulled you into his arms.

  ”Alright my stupid little wife, why don't you come back to your senses before I send you out.“ His hand dipped back into your pants as he played with your clit.

Maybe he'd need to take you a few more times before it all took? That didn't sound like a bad idea. Keep you out of the office and in his bed till there was no choice but for you to get pregnant.

A shiver ran through him at the thought. He agreed with himself. That did sound like a good idea.

Anything to keep his dumb little girl nice and bred.

xoxo, bunny