#but now it's back so i hope it's the new one!

[tteokdoroki]

˗ˏˋ 💎  JJK MEN AS OVERPROTECTIVE GIRL DADS gojo, sukuna & geto .ᐟ

⋆˙ ᯓ★  about ! “a little girl’s first love will always be her father." three scenarios in which the daughters of three jjk men introduce their boyfriends to their fathers. ( 5.7K )

warnings ! minors blank and ageless blogs do not interact. video banner. not beta read. sfw, fluff, angst if you squint, no-curses!au, mentions of pregnancy, children and babies, the children have no names, some family issues, married life, domestic bliss, husband + father!jjk men, mother + fem!reader.

sonic says ! hello everyone !! i wanted to try my hand at some head canons and scenarios, i couldn’t get this idea out of my head so put a pause on working on kinktober to write it lol!! hope you enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ 

ᯓ★ SATORU GOJO:

before meeting you, satoru gojo had never been fond of a family dinner. 

in his childhood home — they were cold and quiet, pockets of clattering cutlery would cut through painstaking silence and distract from the loud emptiness of the seat at the head of the table where his own father was supposed to be. his mother, often solemn and sunken in the shoulders, never spoke. never cooked and slipped small bites to her son in between preparation or steps.

they had staff for that, they had staff for everything.

to keep the household clean and together. to keep him fed and breathing. to keep him alive. all requirements felt almost clinical, the environment in which he was raised almost like the white walls of a hospital — without a trace of love needed for a child like satoru gojo needed to thrive. 

even if he had all the money in the world, he hadn’t a drop of love. he wasn’t ever sure if he was capable of the warm and fuzzy emotion, didn’t know if it was something his heart could ever open up to — sealed in by layers of cool, cold concrete and cement. kept in a safe without a key. at least until you miraculously found it and melted the thick layers of ice blocking satoru’s veins. you brought back colour to his cheeks and light to his eyes, taking up the space in his heart where his family had left a swirling, black void. 

to satoru, you were a saving grace. his everything… and he swore he’d never be like his father; who left his wife unhappy and empty, like a abandoned shell. he promised; he’d do much better than his parents ever did. especially when you found out you were pregnant, even more so when your little girl came into the world with plentiful white curls and lashes, screaming at the top of her teeny tiny lungs. 

at the time, you were sure you’d never seen satoru gojo so in love ( and so teary eyed too ) — but you knew what becoming a parent meant to him. what it meant for the new life you now shared.

but now, having met you and married you and created life with you — satoru had found a new appreciation for family dinners. they were a sacred event, a special time for him to keep up with the lives of his children and let them know he was there. present. 

it wasn’t a time to be imposed on and certainly not by meddlesome boyfriends brought home by sixteen year old daughters.

“so kid, what’s your 401K look like?” 

satoru carries a look of disdain, his nostrils flared, blue eyes narrowed and perfect pink lips curled in an unhappy frown. 

the young boy opposite him, a little scrawny and awkward, shrinks underneath the white haired man’s intense gaze — if you squinted, you could probably see him shaking like a little leaf in the intense wind from across the table “um… i don’t know?”

“hear that little guy? no 401K… how’s he meant to take care of your sister. yeah, yeah.

you’re right, i’ll give him a chance,” he mutters to the baby boy snoozing happily in his arms under his breath, engaging in a one sided conversation before switching his focus back to his daughter’s…sorry excuse for a partner. “okay then… finances, clearly not. academics and common sense —“ pausing,  the white haired father of two clicks his tongue, pushing it into the soft flesh on the inside of his cheek as if to feel his next words out in his mouth. “do you even know what a bouquet of flowers is, kid? a corsage? gojo women don’t play about their flowers, yanno.” 

“sir—“

without giving the boy a chance to speak, gojo drops his intrusive gaze under the table and back up again — pointing an accusatory finger at his little girl’s partner. “your top button’s undone and your shoe laces are untied. you might wanna fix that! if you care about my daughter’s safety!” he turns his nose up all petulant like a picky toddler being forced to eat his veggies, he even sticks his tongue out for good measure. gojo’s eccentric movements nearly jostle his sleepy son in place. the baby whines and gurgles a little bit, only soothed by a pat to his back from dad — who repositions him to snooze over his shoulder.

in a silent, quieter gesture, satoru uses two fingers to point between his eyes and the boy’s. almost as if to say ‘i’m watching you.’

catching him in the act, the eldest gojo daughter bounces into the room carrying plates of steaming hot food, exhaling with worm down patience evident in her body language. “daddy please, you don’t act like this normally. stop messing around.” rolling her eyes, she sets the dishes down, freeing up her hand to smack the back of her dad’s clearly empty skull. just like her mother.

“well sooooorrry for being a good dad and caring about your wellbeing! who you’re dating! who you’re bringing into our bloodline!” gojo rebuttals with petish grunts, unable to cradle the back of his injured head like he does with his son.  

and as if by magic, you, his beautiful and loving and gorgeous wife appear with dinner plates in hand to double down on a scolding the white haired man. amused, you also swat at your husband’s head and tut down at him. “satoru? what are you doing?” there’s something about the way you tease and tell gojo off that always makes his heart race, even after all these years of marriage and raising his kids. he loves you, his family so much. he almost keens into your touch like a pathetic dog, until your daughter starts gagging at the sight — slipping into her set. you were supposed to be watching the baby. not interrogating the poor kid.” 

“we’re having a heart to heart, babe,” gojo swoons, clearing his throat as his head bobs in the direction of his daughter’s boyfriend. “jimbob here was just telling me about his 3.4% grade point average.”

“it’s hiro sir! and uh… 3.5% sir.” the boyfriend in question chirps shyly.

you know that your husband feels… almost threatened by another man entering your daughter’s life — they’ve been practically inseparable since the moment she first opened her eyes. to give up the duty of loving and protecting her and pass it onto someone else is probably what scares him the most. “that’s pretty good hun!” you comment absentmindedly, hoping to pull satoru away from the conversation.

“no it’s not! our daughter has a 4.0%.”

“s-she was failing in math, i was tutoring her.” the boyfriend hopefully interjects again, whispering next when the baby stirs at the dining table. “i hope that makes up for my 401K sir. i-i also work part time to save for college and—!” 

“haha — no i wasn’t!” the younger gojo girl tenses in place, elbowing her date in the ribs not so discretely from under the table. it’s this interaction that makes her father smile, only briefly, before you scowl his way.

“i thought you told them we met at a tutoring session.” 

“you were failing?” you raise a brow, taking your own seat beside her father. 

“see! this boy failure is a bad influence on our daughter!” a glare settles on the slopes of satoru’s angelic features, mirrored by your child’s unimpressed expression across the table. in his arms, your youngest fusses about as if he senses the mounting tension at the table — earning a bounce or two from daddy, who turns your way all matter-of-factly like. “see, this why he doesn’t have a 401K”

“why would a teenager have a 401k, satoru!” comes your exasperated sigh.

“i had one when i was his age.” satoru shoots back and the kid sinks nervously in his seat. the poor boy looks as though he wants to disappear, squirming in place like he’s no better than a worm on a bait hook — it’s torture being interrogated and inspected by someone so close to the person you love most, but even he knows how important satoru’s approval is to your daughter.

she wouldn’t say it now, not when she was all grown up and finding her way out in the world — but she idolised gojo, all of her fondest memories are painted in his colours. shades of sapphire and azure like his vivid eyes, snowy white from his hair that almost rivals the clouds in the sky — the backdrop to days spent riding her father’s shoulders through the big wide world, racing down grassy green hills and wasting the hours away. she wouldn’t admit it here, today, but she never wanted to leave those memories. leave her father behind in her youth — it was written on each dip and curve and highlight on her youthful face, she wanted her father to move into this next phase of life with her too.

“daddy, you were a trust fund baby with shit grades and no prospects until you met mum,” she huffs but her words hold no malice, even if the sass brims over the edge of her tone like an emotionally charged, overflowing glass of water. you’d chide her for cursing — but you know she means well, stubbornly expressing her desire for approval to her man child of a father. “a loser, if you will.” 

gojo slumps, the rosey petals of his plump lips pushing into an age old pout. “how could you say that about dear old dad?” he whines, as though he’s a wounded animal. 

“well she’s not wrong, baby. you were a loser satoru, you still are.” the words are fond and light hearted on your tongue, a similar state to the wisps of a smile that trace over your own lips. leaning in close, you tickle the nose of the gurgling baby boy in his arms, heart heavy with affection — grateful that the one interaction you had with your husband all those years ago ( when he was a scrapier and misunderstood ) led you both to the beautiful chaotic family you have together now. “a hot one at least.” 

“gross.” your daughter groans and buries her embarrassed gaze in the spread of food on the neatly laid table — grabbing a plate and piling it high to cope.

her boyfriend chuckles nervously, wanting nothing more but to eat and do the same. desperate to hide from gojo’s intimidating aura, but too afraid to cross another one of his ridiculous invisible lines. “i think that’s very sweet mrs gojo!”

the brief moment of peace in the war of dad v boyfriend is then interrupted by the white haired man’s temper tantrum, realising that his only daughter is still in the room. “don’t push it kid.” the father of your children all but wails and finds something else about the young couple to pick apart. “you’re sitting too close together! move apart!” 

“daddy—!”

“w-what?”

“i said move it or lose it kid, before i keel over and die of heartbreak.” “betrayal. my own daughter, leaving me for someone else.” 

the two separate, shifting their chairs away from one another despite never actually being too close. you share an empathetic look with your eldest, empathetic to your husband’s actions. you both knew he wouldn’t handle the meeting well, but this was beyond your whilst dreams. the young couple’s hands remain intertwined under the table cloth as the meal begins properly, and when satoru notices, he doesn’t comment — biting down hard on his unhappy tongue. he knows all too well what it’s like to love against the odds, his father in law hardly wanted him around you. it’s not like he wasn’t aware how bad he was for you, how your standards might have even dropped for the man to be with him. but you loved satoru with your entire being, wholly and against all of your own parent’s wishes. 

in a way, the dinner tonight reminds him of himself meeting your father for the first time — how he had to work for his approval too. prove that he was more than just a spoilt brat. too caught up in the memories, the odd sense of loss threaded between his every breath and the love he holds for his daughter settled in his lungs — gojo almost kissed the way you whisper to him adoringly, head drooping to rest on his shoulder mostly to look at your baby but partly to comfort him. “you’re being dramatic satoru. look at them, don’t you just love young love.” 

and he does, he looks, really looks — softly staring across the table and through the haze of his own judgement, noticing how happy his little girl looks all wrapped up with her boyfriend. all he’s ever wanted is to keep her smiling, give her a life that his parents couldn’t give him, he feels all of his resentment and fear or losing his daughter melt away like a plain sheet of paper dissolving in water. he loves her too much to not let her be happy, his baby. his little girl. 

“no, not at all,” satoru finally relents with a wobbling voice and silvery tears that dot his vision — shaking his head back and forth to stop them from dropping onto his sleeping son gathered in his arms. “w-why would you say that? god, is it allergy season? my eyes are killing me. they’re not cute at all, why would you say that i’m crying?” 

your teenage daughter glances over, relief evident in all of her identical gojo features. “no one mentioned you crying, daddy.” she coos softly in an attempt to console satoru.

it doesn’t work, he starts dry heaving and sobbing. which is new for her, he hasn’t cried this hard since her baby brother was born.

the kid scrambles into his pocket and damn near stumbles over the table in order to hand your white haired lover a tissue. “i don’t think you’re crying sir!” 

“shut up!” gojo sniffles dramatically, putting on his best theatre kid act and drapes himself ( and the baby ) all over you. “shit, is this cushioned tissue? three ply?” pale, deft fingers swipe at the blue pools of eyes which well with tears while the kid nods over enthusiastically — desperate to please his girlfriend’s guardian. “good stuff this is… but this doesn’t mean i approve of you for my daughter!”

“gojo!” 

“whaaaaat!? he doesn’t have a 401K!”

ᯓ★ RYOMEN SUKUNA:

if you’d told sukuna, almost a decade and a half ago, that he would end up with a life shrouded in domestic bliss — he would have laughed in your face. maybe even called you a cunt whilst telling you to fuck off. back then, when he was younger and the spirit of ambitious fire burned brightly in his veins as though he had petroleum for blood, the pink haired man never dreamed of settling down. buying a house. getting married. or having kids.

he was as untameable as a wild horse, with only one goal in mind. to open up his restaurant and get his family out of that shithole town by all and any means. he’d cross whatever rivers he had to, climb whatever mountains he needed to — push past societal hurdles that judged him for the pink in his hair and the thick ink on his body. ryomen sukuna did not care. not about anyone else, only about his goals.

at least, until he met you. 

in many ways, you were a blessing to the world where sukuna was a curse. his complete opposite, the day to his night. though the worlds and lives you came from were completely different — 

nowadays, the man is a little softer around the edges and weaker in the heart — they say that’s what true love does to you.

a set of keys jingle at the front door, followed by the dull thud of trainers on the shoe rack and footsteps on the mahogany wood floor. sukuna hardly looks up from the article he’s reading — something about the best recipes for autumnal vegetables. who would have thought, ryomen sukuna, reading up on gardening. he would tell anyone who asked it was for his restaurant, not because he actually enjoyed it. would make him look soft. 

“hey, i’m home!” the voice that calls to him is sweet and youthful, a dulcet symphony that tugs paternally at the pink haired man’s heart strings. “is ma here?” 

sukuna smiles to himself behind the newspaper, inhaling its fresh ink scent. “in the kitchen, workin’,” he replies absentmindedly, listening to his daughter skid down the hall after dropping her backpack. “oi squirt, you ain’t slick. you know what day it is, report card. now.” 

there’s a dramatic sigh that follows footsteps trailing back into the living room. sukuna’s daughter, his pride and joy clings onto the doorframe with a scowl that could very well rival his own, ruby red eyes twinkling with annoyance — she’s in a rush to chat with her mother after school, he knows, but he can’t help but to tease her just a bit. “s’in my bag, can i go now?” she whines impatiently but takes off at the first gentle nod from her father in reply. 

but the pink haired parent’s peaceful evening is quickly turned upside down at the discovery he makes in the bottom of his pride and joy’s bag. no matter how much time has passed, how many decades have gone by in which he’s been a father — nothing could prepare him for this new challenge, the new wave of emotions that come with having a tween daughter and swirl hotly in his chest.

“what the fuck is this?” he announces with a foul snarl, slipping into the kitchen where his girls chitchat idly over a test batch of cookies sukuna had made earlier in the day. for his restaurant of course. not because he’s a doting husband or loving father. he’s got an image to uphold and it’s not one of domestic bliss. 

his daughter chirps, not looking up from the sweet treat she picks apart and pops into her mouth — seated on the kitchen island while you work away on your laptop. “what’s what, daddy?” her innocent nonchalance about the older sukuna’s discovery almost makes him pop a vein. “also, ma told you to stop saying the f-word. so, swear jar.”

the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink pokes his tongue into the soft epithelium of his cheek, his jaw ticks and a playful frustration tingles throughout all four of his limbs. the swear jar was something you’d brought into play as soon as [daughter name] had learned how to talk, afraid that your rough and rugged husband’s potty mouth would rub off on her young impressionable mind. every time a cursed word falls from between ryomen sukuna’s lips, a couple hundred yen is popped into the jar as punishment. the thing was practically full by your baby’s third birthday, so you’ve been putting it down as her college fund ever since.

paper rustles between deft and tattooed fingers as sukuna reveals not a report card, but a crinkled note like the kind passed back and forth between distracted kids in the middle of that one class before lunch. “don’t play dumb with me, squirt.” ryomen holds the note up to the light so that both of his girls can see, blood diamond eyes squinting so he can inspect it better. somebody get this guy his glasses. “‘do you want to go out with me? tick for yes, cross for no.’” he reads out loud, each word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue, his frown so deep that lines of disapproval form on his well-aged face.

thoughts of the once all-important report card vanish into thin air, the relaxed aura in the room replaced with a palatable tension that not even your husband’s finest knives could cut. your precious baby girl shoots up from the counter to scramble with her dad over the note in hand. he holds her back with a large palm to the forehead.

“oh my god! you weren’t supposed to see that! daddy, give it here. please!”

“fat chance, squirt,” the tattooed man retorts. “you passin’ notes in class? that why you’re hidin’ your report card?” 

“you can have my report card, when you give that back!”

with the two standing side by side, the resemblance strikes you as clear as day. they share the same hair, same scowl and same rugged intonation to their voices. they’re both yours, your entire world under one roof. before they can blow said root off, you stand between the elder and younger sukuna — turning to your husband with hooded eyes and a gentle hand on the centre of his broad chest. “oh ryo,” you coo in flirtation, slowing his train of thought as you sneakily swipe the crushed paper from his grip. “shut up ‘n let me see that.”

your daughter gags behind you at the display of affection, contrasting with the amused smirk you share with your long time lover. after all this time, marriage and the perfect kid, you’re still able to make a fool out of him — make sukuna’s heart skip a beat and a heat he refuses to acknowledge crawl up the back of his neck. he’s gone soft, for you and his family. for now, for you, he relents on taunting his precious little girl. 

casting your gaze over the note, you grin at the pink-ink chicken scratch scribbled across the page. it’s sweet and endearing, reminding you of young love. “did atsushi finally ask you out?” you ask tenderly, handing the paper back to your daughter who cuddles it to her chest like the  physical version of a precious memory. 

a bashful expression lines the contours of her face, seeping into features you’d recognise from your husband on her. sukuna would argue that she has the shape of your eyes and your beauty too — but all you see is a culmination of love. “ma you were so totally right, playing hard to get really works!” 

she gushes dreamily over her crush like it’s puppy love, biting her lip and bouncing on the spot. 

“like a charm, every time.” comes your entertained response, much to your husband’s dismay.

“you weren’t playin’ hard to get with me…” sukuna questions rather than states, trying to piece together parts of the gossip that he’s missed. an anxiety corners the beat of his heart at the thought of his daughter dating, something in which the burly man never thought he would be afraid of. the world had been hard on sukuna; he only worries that it’s not as safe for his pride and joy as it were for him.   “never mind that; the brat asked you out with a piece of paper?  y’better not have said yes. we have standards here.” 

his words make you roll your eyes with the hint of a smile. ryomen almost reminding you of your own father around the time you’d met him.

your daughter scrunches her nose petulantly, gearing herself up for a witty reply. “well ma married you, so her standards can’t be that high.” she snaps, earning a stifled laugh from you and an unimpressed grunt from her hardheaded dad. “and no, i didn’t. told him he needed to ask me out  properly. face to face. with words. he said to meet him on the running track tomorrow at lunch for a surprise!”

pulling her into a hug, you kiss her round youthful cheek. “oh baby, i'm so happy for you!”

“well i ain’t! show me the damn kid, need to see what kind of pitiful brat wants to ask out my little girl,”  sukuna crosses his arms and grumbles to himself, black ink tattoos flexing menacingly as he does so. almost as if he’s preparing to threaten the kid before even meeting him. “whatever happened to askin’ for permission to court or whatever. he should have been on my doorstep asking for your hand.” 

“firstly you would have said no, and secondly this isn’t the olden days, dad. nobody does that anymore.” your cheeky daughter chides him loudly, her words slipping over her snarky little tongue. like father like daughter, the way they snip and snap at one another has an uncanny resemblance.

tilting your head upwards towards your fuming husband, you laugh breathlessly in a way that washes away his anger.“she’s right ryo; though my dad hardly approved of you either.” you say softly. even now, you make him feel weak in the knees and dizzy in the mind, like he’s so anything for you. whoever dates his daughter should feel the same about her.

“i freakin’ earned it, didn’t i? 

“just barely.”

sukuna huffs but settles a hand on your waist from behind and his head atop yours. he needs to soothe himself somehow, his daughter is growing too fast. “stop ganging up on me and lemme see the damn kid.” 

“here, isn’t he cute.” 

lips downturned, sukuna craned his neck to look at your daughter’s phone from over your shoulder — scrutinising the instagram page that she’s opened now offering the kid his only child has taken an interest in like a lamb at the slaughterhouse. “brat looks like a noodle.” haughty laughter fills the kitchen, reverberating against the bones and organs in ryomen’s chest and buzzing right though your back. “you’re right i woulda said no as soon as he fuckin’ turned up!” 

two sets of scolding eyes similar in shape, belonging to the two girls he loves the most swivel around to face the pink haired man disapprovingly.

“ryomen sukuna!” 

“daddy!”

“yeah yeah, i know. swear jar.”

ᯓ★ SUGURU GETO:

“my love, were you aware that our little munchkin has a boyfriend?”

suguru looks up from the bubbling pot of child friendly pasta sauce on the stove. if it were just the two of you having dinner tonight, like it was merely three (nearly four) years ago — he would have planned for a more adventurous meal. perhaps sought out a bottle of fine aged wine for you both to enjoy on the balcony and even gotten a dessert to sweeten the date in. but now, you both had more than two hungry tummies to worry about, and bottles of wine could only be purchased when the little one was off with her uncle satoru.

“no, i wasnt. i don't believe that’s come up in discussion before,” your dark haired lover turns his narrow gaze to the giggly little girl swaddled in your arms — her chubby cheeks and dark, curious eyes just peeking out of the fluffy duck-themed towel you’ve wrapped her in. bath time is usually after bed, but someone got into the paint pots at nursery school and managed to get blotches of blue streaked through her hair and under her fingernails. “care to elaborate sweetheart?”

suguru taps the wooden sauce spoon against the side of the pot and swipes his hands on a nearby tea towel before allowing them to rest on his hips, look of faux irritation settling on the contours of his face and slopes of his features. thin brows draw together like closed gates in the middle of his forehead — the expression earning airy light and squealed laughter from your baby girl.

“nuh uhhh! not my boy-fend!” she babbles her way through the big girl word, missing a few syllables here and there, but geto still grins with pride — happily leaning forward to press enthusiastic kisses to his little angel’s damp forehead. “no boy-fend papa!

bouncing your daughter slightly, you cock your hip out to hold her weight and cheekily roll your eyes. “such a daddy’s girl, lying to him already? he’ll let you get away with anything if you keep that up,”  though you muster up a pout to rival the toddler’s, the uncanny resemblance warming the cockles or your husband’s heart, your tone is playful and adoring — it’s lilt full of love for the baby girl you made together. you pinch her chubby cheek, waggling it from side to side as more of her childlike laughter tangles with the scent of pasta in the air.  “we bumped into the fujioka boy and his mother at the gates this morning, he held her hand all the way up to the classroom. it was quite cute. you had to be there, love.” 

“i’m sure,” he responds, gentle mirth and protectiveness swirling in dark framed eyes.

you relay the information to your husband as though it’s hot gossip fresh from the press, whispering over your dark-haired daughter’s head not so secretly. even with the hair and eyes to match suguru’s, she’s still just as much your carbon copy as she is his — he tends to say all of her spirit comes from you, not to mention the way she laughs and smiles.

shaking her head between you, both — your baby chimes in brightly. “noooo mama!! boys are gross, i don’ hold hands with boys.”

this time suguru manoeuvres to pinch her other chubby cheek, clicking his tongue as he does so. “not even papa?” he pretends to pout, crouching down with his hands on his knees to coo into her sweet little face. 

“nuhhh, papa isn’t gross!! papa is my favourite boy!” she quickly tacks on with a dribbly smile.

“that’s right. i’ll be the only boy in your life always, just you and i princess,” your husband reaffirms with a firm shake of his head and presses a promise in the form of a kiss to your daughter’s nose. her chubby little hands, still wet from bath time, smack either side of suguru’s face and keep him close — close enough for her to plant a soggy smooch onto his forehead affectionately. a wet kiss only a father could love. “that settles it, i’m no longer sharing my kisses. papa says no boyfriends until you’re ninety.”

once your two loves are done sharing their candied affections, you seat your daughter on the edge of the kitchen table to allow geto the room to finish up with dinner. the comforting symphony of baby babbles and kitchen utensils clanking and food boiling fills the steamy air, it makes you smile. it feels like home. “oh come on suguru, they’re only three. don’t you think it’s the tiniest bit adorable?” you say with a sing-songy voice, entertaining both your little one and her father.“they even share their animal crackers during break time and crayons when it’s time to colour, one of the supervisors told me.”

with his back now to you as he stirs through the pasta sauce one final time, you hardly miss the way suguru’s shoulders tense at the mention of the little boy your girl has taken a liking to. he wouldn’t dare frown about it in front of her, what upsets daddy upsets baby too. that’s why he’s always smiling for her, and you find the man’s subtle jealousy endearing. it’s always supposed to be suguru and his princess, with no room for anyone else ( aside from you, of course ) 

“nope, no boyfriends. no amount of cuteness can convince me otherwise.” voice falling tight and flat, suguru reaches into the cupboards for plates and bowls to dish up his lovingly prepared home cooked meal, slamming them into place at the table with a little less patience than before. 

the idea of some… little boy chasing after his daughter’s heart? over his dead body.

“boy-fends are gross!” but your daughter is forever a daddy’s girl, furrowing her brow and crossing her tiny arms in an act of defiance — supporting her papa’s cause. boyfriends are bad! 

fuelling her excitement and even more support for papa — food is served shortly by your husband, who plates up as best as he can with toddler safe dinnerware. you adjust your little girl into her high chair at the table, giggling to yourself softly when she cranes her neck to keep an eye on suguru. “does that mean papa’s gross? he’s technically mama’s boyfriend.”

“husband, love, there’s a difference.” 

three plates of hot, aromatic spaghetti are organised in a table — each a domestic reminder of the family suguru geto has been blessed with. in that moment, he thinks he would be happy if he spent the rest of his life as just the three of you. briefly his mind wonders to setting a fourth place at the table in a decade or so’s time, once his daughter truly is old enough to date. the very thought makes him feel ill. 

round, doe eyes dart between you and suguru as you take your seats either side of your darling daughter at the table — she mimics you both with fumbling little fingers that reach for her baby fork and concentrates as she attempts to repeat your husband’s words. “can i have a husbsband-love?”

you laugh and kiss her cheek, helping her to gather a bite of pasta on the full end of her fork. “husband. just husband, my love. make sure you blow on your food please!” she follows your instructions with a comical air, cheeks puffing and breath huffing while you explain why her father is a second away from blowing his top. “good girl. husband’s aren’t for babies, baby. and i think papa might not like it if you got one now.”

“if you got one ever!” suguru interjects, eyes narrowing while he fights with his lips to avoid a scowl. “the answer is still no, princess. no husbands and no boyfriends until papa is old, cold and in the ground.” 

now that your hands are free, you grab the nearest tea towel and wind it up in your grip — launching its tail end at geto as though to swat at  him. he jumps in surprise and your daughter shrieks in amusement as she begins babbling again. “don worry, papa!. fujioka is  no my boy-fend!!” she says over food in her mouth and happy tummy. geto wipes over her face again. she’ll definitely need another bath later. “hasegawa is!!”

the pair of you share a look and this time, you really think suguru might just throw in the towel. 

how could he compete with pre-school love and paint pots shared over playtime gossip? 

“two boyfriends? oh god, love… i think need some air.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[oday-alanqar1]

WE NEED YOUR URGENT HELP 🚨

Please listen and don’t skip 😭💔

This is a verified campaign and is listed at #261 on the Verified Fundraising List by @nabulsi and @el-shap-hussein .

Hi everyone,

We have had to start over on our campaign again. The website has been difficult to use.

First we had a campaign that was set up wrong and needed to be closed and redone. We thought this had been done successfully, but it wasn't.

When we asked them to permanently close the old link, they instead refunded everything we worked so hard to raise on the new one😞💔

We are heartbroken to have to start from nothing again, but we refuse to lose hope.

If you had your donation refunded, please consider sending it to our new link. Sorry for any inconvenience, we are just as frustrated at having to ask this and we hope you continue to stand with us. I was trying to return the €10 to the donor because this link would not work and I was sad that someone would not receive their money but because of that

I told GoFundMe that I would refund the money from the old link because I am working on a new campaign that is active and going well and I told them to tell people about the new campaign.

I was surprised that Go Fund Me refunded all the money from my active campaign and I only had one dollar left. I was back to square one after a lot of hard work and effort trying to raise money to get my family out and rebuild our lives.

As you can see all my money has been returned to the donors😭💔

I have to start over now😭💔, I need your support more than ever.

Help me by donating again or sharing my campaign with friends and others. This will be a great support for me. 🙏🏻

[woso-dreamzzz]

Outburst IV

Leah Williamson x Child!Reader

Summary: You go on a podcast

"And you know, as well as being a footballer and playing with Less and Tooney, you're also a mother to a little girl."

Any mention of you makes Leah smile and she glances off camera to where you're sitting with a crayon and a sheet of paper.

"Yeah," She says, that same dopey smile on her face as she tears her gaze away from you," She's four."

"And she's here today."

"Yeah, I almost didn't bring her because we're recording this so early but my mum had to cancel so she's just behind the camera. I think she's-"

"I'm drawin', Mum!" You call out and Leah grins.

"Are you, bug?"

"Uh-huh! Is it my turn yet?"

Leah glances at Vick Hope. "She loves a microphone. I may have promised her a turn on one of the mics in return for waking up so early today."

"Oh, yeah," Tooney says," We've got to have Bug on here."

"If you're okay with that?" Vick checks.

"Yeah. Honestly, I thought she would have interrupted more. She's very excited. Lovebug, do you want to come over here and you can have your turn?"

You're up like a shot, practically tripping over yourself to get to Leah.

The others have to hold in a coo as you come into view.

You'd arrived today in a big puffy coat and was immediately set up behind the camera, blocked by all the staff and the equipment.

Now they can see you clearly, in a pair of old Arsenal kit shorts but a white t-shirt instead of a jersey, black cardigan and a silly black hat just like Leah's, looking every bit her mini apart from the old Jordan shorts you're wearing.

"Alright." Leah lifts you up onto her lap and lowers her mic so it's more your size. "You happy now?"

You frown. "It's not like Auntie Alex's mic."

"Auntie Alex?" The strange woman that's not Less or Tooney asks.

"My auntie Alex always lets me use her mic at games because I have important things to say and mics help people hear me!"

"Alex Scott," Leah puts in, bouncing you on her lap slightly," Bug really loves her."

"Almost as much as I love Mummy!" You turn to look at the strange woman again. "My Mummy plays for Villa in Berm-ham."

"Birmingham," Leah interrupts again and you tilt your head back to look at her, patting her cheek.

"It's my turn now, mum," You tell her," You have to wait your turn to speak again."

Tooney sputters slightly and Alessia has to bite her lip to stop the laughter threatening to come out at Leah's affronted face as you land another condescending pat on her cheek.

"Mummy plays in Berm-ham," You say again," So I see her every other week. She plays for Villa but I like Arsenal more." You puff out your chest. "When I'm older, I'm gonna play for Arsenal."

"Bug already trains with us," Alessia says and you let her talk because she doesn't have to wait her turn because she doesn't share her microphone like you and Leah do," She's very good."

"And I go on camp! Sarina calls me up every time because I'm so good!"

"You must be," The strange but nice lady says," Because you've got two mummies who play football and you must work super hard."

"I do," You say, bobbing your head up and down," Mummy says one day I'm going to be scoring every game because I'm that good."

"We're very proud of our Bug," Leah says and you only let her have a little turn because she's being nice," She always does her very best."

"Enough for a puppy?"

Leah's face drops. "You've got Blu at Jordan's," She reminds you and you perk up suddenly, turning back to your new microphone again.

"Blu's my birthday buddy!" You announce gleefully," We're the same age! And we share a birthday!"

"Wow, that sounds really cool. You must really love your dog."

"I do! I do!"

"Do you miss him when you're on camp?"

You think for a moment. You've never really thought about if you miss Blu on camp before.

Camp is fun because you're got the other girls and auntie Keira and auntie Lucy and Mum and Bear. You've never really stopped to think about Blu when there's already so much to do at camp.

You shake your head. "I miss Bear more."

"Bear's Keira and Lucy's kid," Leah explains," They're best friends but they don't see each other too often because she lives in Barcelona."

"Bear's kind of funny," Tooney says," She's always nappin'."

"Don't be mean!" You snap suddenly, leaning all the way over to smack Tooney on the arm.

"Bug!" Leah groans," We've talk about using our nice hands. We don't hit."

You huff, sitting more firmly on Leah's lap again and crossing your arms over your chest. "No being mean about Bear! She naps because she's tired! Mum says napping is good, right?"

"That is right, Bug. I do say that."

You nod, turning back to the strange but nice lady. "Bear is my best friend and I love her."

Leah grins down at you, adjusting your hat slightly.

"Keira and I aren't huggers but those two certainly are. Always having a little cuddle those two are."

You frown, a little furrow in your brow. "But you are a hugger, Mum. You always give me cuddles."

"Well, yeah, Bug but I was talking-"

"You don't like my cuddles?"

"No, Bug that's not what I'm saying. I just meant-"

Your bottom lips wobbles and you move to slip off Leah's lap. "I'm sorry, mum. I won't have cuddles anymore if it makes you feel better. No more Bug Hugs. Promise!"

"No, Bug," Leah says firmly, pulling you closer into her body, arms curling around your body," I love Bug Hugs. I always want Bug Hugs from you."

[pathologicalreid]

litmus test | s.r.

in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you

find more chemist!reader here!

who? spencer reid x chemist!reader category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details) content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao word count: 1.68k a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!

“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.

Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”

He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”

You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”

“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.

“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.

He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.

Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”

Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.

“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.

You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.

“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”

Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”

You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”

“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”

“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.

Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”

“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”

Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”

“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.

Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”

There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.

While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”

He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.

Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”

“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.

Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”

Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.

“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know

“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”

You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“

“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”

Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”

Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”

Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”

Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”

“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”

He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”

“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.

The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.

“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.

Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”

The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”

You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”

That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”

The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”

“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”

You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”

Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.

“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.

Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.

Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”

Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”

“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.

In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”

[cakelitter]

Kiss It Better

Older! Leon x Fem! Reader

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings: daddy kink, p in v, oral (f receive), breeding kink, spanking, dirty talking, established relationship

words: 3.3k

a/n: hi hi!! no summary for this one cause... idk, a surprise? Reader is attention deprived, but I'd always be demanding more if di Leon was my bf like hello? (never shutting up about him) anw hope you enjoy!!

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Your boyfriend is mad at you.

And how does he decide to punish you? In the cruelest way possible, a way that he knows you’re not strong enough to handle.

Ignoring you.

Robbing you from his attention and validation, treating you like how you’d probably get treated on a daily basis with a guy your age.  

He has never been the type to give you attitude, or even raise his voice, but that does not mean that you go unscathed when you mess up. Right now, he is living his life like he normally does, well his life before he met you apparently. No pet names, no kisses, no “I love you”, not even looking at what you’re talking about and just replying with the most unenthusiastic hum he can muster up at literally everything you say.

“Daddy, look at this cute dog.”

“Hm.”

“How was work?”

“Hm.”

“I almost got ran over by a truck on the highway.”

“Hm.”

It’s pissing you off, and that’s exactly why he’s doing it. Figured out which buttons to push to get on your nerves, and is actively pushing every single one of them. You curl up on his side, wrapping your arm around his neck and place your head on his shoulder. And in return his eyes remained glued to the TV.

You’re going to cry, rip your hair out, and throw yourself off the balcony.

Worst part is that you actually apologized, not once, not twice, but three fucking times, and yet, it all falls to deaf ears. Why is he acting like you kicked homeless puppies or set an orphanage on fire?

Daddy is supposed to be forgiving, and he always has been; pulling you into a hug after each argument, kissing your face and all over your body till you feel better. But apparently daddy is under new management now, following a new set of policies that are getting in the way of your dire need for his attention.

The first day you realized that he’s ignoring you, you’d talk to him and he won’t respond, and if he did it was short and dry answers. Treating you like a persistent fly that just won’t leave him alone, the smile on his lips that was always present when he looked at you is now hid behind his cold gaze.

You tried cuddling, cracking a few jokes, and even started a conversation that you just ended up having with yourself. All of those strategies were met with the same result, nothing. It’s like someone took the man your loved and replaced him with a brick wall, devoid from any capabilities of forming emotional connections or any sort of bond for that matter.

On day two, you tried to make it harder for him to ignore you. Wearing the skimpiest clothes around the house, putting on his shirt with nothing underneath and even went the extra mile of spraying yourself with his perfume. You practically threw yourself over his lap, nuzzling into him and peppering kisses all over his rough stubble.

Nothing.

Actually, he did say something. “You’re blocking the TV.”  

Felt like a slap to the face, you stare at him for a bit hoping that he acknowledges your existence. Again, nothing. His dick is half hard beneath you, aching for your wet heat, and instead of making you ride his dick till you’re crying, he remains still. So now not only is he ignoring you, he’s ignoring his cock as well.

Fine then, the shirt is now off, you are sleeping in your shared bed fully naked and bare like the day you popped out into this world. Figured since Leon is stubborn, maybe he just had a high ego and is too embarrassed to break whatever promise he made to himself to ignore your pathetic attempts of winning him back.

He’ll walk in the room, find you basically giving him an invitation to touch you, waiting patiently in case he changed his mind, and fall right into your trap. A fool proof plan…

The number of times you’ve gotten clowned are getting embarrassing at this point.

Not only did he not do anything, he didn’t do as much as touch you the whole night. Sleeping on his side of the bed and leaving you in the same position you fell asleep in. The arms that would wrap around you during the night are missing, same goes to the hot breath that would fan out on the nape of your neck as you drift off to sleep. Again, cruel old man behavior.

And so, today marks day three without attention. You’ve lost your appetite, lost smell in your left arm, eyelid keeps twitching, haven’t been sleeping well, and you’ve become much irritable. This is getting out of hand; this man has no mercy for your soul. He might as well just shoot you in the leg instead and you’d accept that any day over what he’s doing right now.

You’ve considered just getting on your knees, intertwining your hands together and begging him to talk to you again. Usually, you are never this desperate for a man to talk to you, except for him. Leon has showered you with love every day since the two of you got together, his best and only girl, the apple of his eye, the sole reason he keeps going. You’ve gotten so accustomed to being his baby that it has become an innate need.

In the midst of your desperate attempts, you reach plan C. If it doesn’t work you’ll just give up and actually start acting like a normal fucking person for once, but god forbid things need to reach that point.

This time you don’t say a word to him, ignoring him the way he’s ignoring you. No good morning, no pleading, nothing.

You hop in the shower and then begin to get ready to go out. Your hair is done with extra effort today, and makeup is on point. Not sure if the outfit you’re wearing could be even classified as “clothes”. Cleavage on display, and ass almost hanging out of the miniskirt you have on.

It’s probably illegal to walk out dressed like that, a hazard to public safety. You might as well wear lingerie and call it a day; but believe it or not, that’s what you’re aiming for.

You can see Leon’s eyes look up from his laptop momentarily as you walk past him to go grab something from the other room, but just as you expected he minds his own business, going back to whatever he was doing.

That’s until you see his figure walk into your shared bedroom, leaning back on the door frame, watching you add some final touches to your makeup through the reflection of your vanity. You pretend like you didn’t see him, directing all your focus onto lining your lips.

“Where you going?” Ah, there it is, the first proper sentence he’s said in the past three days.  An achievement that surely deserves a celebration.

 This is what parents must feel like when their child speaks their first word. The child being a man in his late thirties and twice your size, but you digress. With your eyes remaining glued to your lips, you speak coldly. “Out.”

“Out where?”

“There’s this new club my friend wants us to check out together.”

“Which friend?” The look plastered on his face is hilarious; his eyes moving back and forth between yours and your poor excuse of a skirt. He seems worried, more for himself than for you, watching his faux confidence crumble in front of him.

“Won’t be gone for long, don’t worry.” You reply, closing your lip gloss and putting it back in your makeup bag while rubbing your lips together.

“I didn’t ask if you were going to be late or not, I asked which friend.” This tough demeanor doesn’t suit him, he’s clearly out of his element. Fixing his posture, he crosses his arms waiting for you to respond. “Does it matter, Leon?”

You dropped the bomb, letting his name slip out your lips instead of the D-word feels weird, borderline painful, but it had to be done. He goes quiet, your eyes too scared to look back at him through the mirror which has been serving as a way of communication between the two of you.

Can’t remember the last time you addressed him with his name, took you no longer than two weeks to start babbling daddy; his name long forgotten and dust collected in the back of your mind. He liked it, a name only you get to call him by, a trigger you pull causing him to immediately slip into the protective mental space, a space only reserved for you.

“Leon?”

You’re going to shit your pants this actually not even funny.

“Um, isn’t that your name?” Grabbing your purse, you give yourself a one final look over before walking towards the door. Your legs feel wobbly, never the type to start any of these kinds of petty situations. Usually all you have to do is flutter your lashes at him and he immediately gives you whatever you want, this time however he brought this onto himself.

Walking past him, you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your scalp, his energy feeling heavy. You feign confidence, walking slow, posture straight and hips swaying from side to side. Truthfully, you are fighting the urge to just book it and run as far as these heels can take you (not that far) before he does whatever is running through his mind.

You don’t even get to make it two steps away from the door before a hand yanks you back into the room, and throws you over his shoulder.

“Leon, I’m already late, put me down!” A loud smack echoes through the room as a stinging pain overtakes your senses. You yelp out, blood rushing over to the red handprint on your ass, heat spreading on the area.

Your back hits the plush mattress of the bed and within seconds he’s on top of you. His hand grabs one of your thighs spreading them wider as the other goes for your neck. Crashing his lips against yours, a groan escapes your lips, as his hips thrust against your core, hardened dick rubbing against your panty clad cunt.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that ‘friend’ of yours would be pissed.” His breath feels hot against your lips with each word that leaves his mouth. “What did I tell you about lying, baby?”

Should’ve known that lying doesn’t work on him, never did and never will. Has you memorized by heart, starting from your actions, reactions, and every thought that crosses your mind.

Reality is, there is no friend, and there is no new club. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, and making up a whole scenario was the only option you had left. “I’m sorry.”

His hand lands on your ass once again with a loud slap, your body jolts in pain as you bite your lip to suppress a whine. “Sorry what?”

“I’m sorry daddy.”

“Atta girl.” He coos, his hand rubbing against the burning skin, rewarding you with a sweet kiss. “See that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The cold air hits your nipples as he drags your top down, revealing your breasts too him. He gropes one, moving over and giving the stiff peak a firm pinch. “Why’d you lie sweetheart?”

Him and those fucking questions, can’t the interrogation wait till he fucked you? His hips continue rubbing against yours, the gusset of your panties is soaked with your arousal. “Wanted daddy’s attention.”

“Of course you did.” He chuckles lowly, eyes focused on your tits as he plays with them. A smile flashes across your lips, maybe your plan did work after all, not fully the way you intended it to; but it worked nonetheless.

His hands are on you, he’s speaking again, and his cock in near reach. Maybe life’s not so bad after all.

“I wouldn’t call this a win, sweetheart; think I might just play with these tits and leave you like this.” The smile that was once present on your glossy lips disappears, your heart drops at the possibility of him leaving you to deal with the aching between your thighs, again. It’s been three long rough days without his dick, he can’t be doing this to you.

“No, no, no please daddy, I’m sorry.” You shake your head from side to side, knots forming between your brows, hoping that your pleading is enough to convince him.

“Was actually going to apologize for being so mean to you lately, but after seeing you act like this… I don’t know, baby.”  You whine, head falling back down on the mattress below.

Frustrated, tears begin to brim in your eyes as your hands reach over and grab his muscular forearm. “I’m so sorry, daddy. I promise I won’t do it again.”

His eyes stare into yours, he stays quiet for a moment before his eyes soften. Dropping down, he places a kiss on your forehead, his thumb caressing the side of your cheek. “Pretty girl, I’m sorry too, shouldn’t have been so harsh with you.”

He presses another soft peck on your cheek, smiling at you warmly. Your heart begins to thump faster, your sadness dissipating with each passing moment. He’s back, you can’t tell of you feel good because the two of you made up, or because his hard cock is still rubbing against your wet heat.

“I need you.” you whisper, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. Chuckling, he nods and kisses you this time on the lips and it feels ten times sweeter than normal. Rubbing your sides, his hand slithers down to your clothed clit, rubbing soft circles, causing your back to arch.

“Think it’s about time to makeup it up for you, sweetheart.” You hum in agreement, capturing your bottom lip in a bite, and spreading your thighs even wider, inviting him to continue. His lips connect to the tender skin on your neck, kissing and biting down on it, your hands tangling between his soft locks and closing your eyes in pleasure.

Moving back, he admires his work momentarily before dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed. Unzipping your skirt, he pulls the fabric down before tossing it somewhere behind him along with your soaked panties. Calloused hands snake the inside of your thighs, gentle caresses along with some gropes here and there.

His fingers spread your lips open, in awe at the view in front of him, your arousal evident and dipping down from your core like a waterfall, down to the sheets below. “Missed you too, baby. Daddy missed you so much.”

Those words are not for you, but for your cunt, addressing it like it’s his. An open-mouthed kiss gets placed on your clit, his blue eyes staring deeply into yours as he does so. The scene on its own is enough to make you cum.

Teasing you, he places a few more on your thighs; eyes not leaving yours for a minute. He rubs his cheek against the soft skin, the stubbled chin feeling prickly. Giving it the love and affection that it missed out on.

You wait patiently, letting him enjoy and take his time, basking in the heart warming feeling of it all. Like always, good behavior never goes unnoticed, and so he rewards you by pulling the hood of your clit back, and sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves, a satisfied groan vibrating through it amplifying the pleasure.

His skilled tongue makes out with your pussy, licking and fucking itself into you. Your moans fill the room, gripping the covers below you for dear life. Feeling your orgasm around the corner, but as soon as you notice his hips subconsciously thrusting into the footboard of the bed below, groans coming out of his busy lips, the knot in your stomach snaps immediately, causing your thighs to squeeze around his head as he holds your hips in place.

Placing your foot on his shoulder, you pull away from your core, the uncomfortable sensation of overstimulation taking over your senses. He moves back, stubble glistening in the mixture of your fluids and his spit.

He looks into your half-lidded eyes for a moment, his hand rubbing your thigh affectionately before kissing the inside of it. “So pretty, such a pretty girl.”

Your heart flutters, getting high on each love filled word he says. Grabbing his hand in yours, you pull him up towards you, connecting your lips in a kiss much more tender than he ones before. Lust and desire dissipating, replaced with the warm feeling of adoration. He pets your hair, leaving a final peck on your nose, causing you to giggle in response.

The mood however shifts again when you feel the imprint of his cock through his sweatpants; the familiar aching between your legs ignites once more, begging for him. “Daddy.”

“Right here.”

“Want you inside” He captures your bottom lip into a deeper kiss, his hands assisting yours in taking his pants off. Breaking the kiss, he fully removes them, revealing his thick cock to your desire filled eyes; the flushed pink tip, and the dollop of sticky precum begin to drip down the side of it.

He wraps his fist around it, pumping himself a few times, earning a sharp inhale out of the sensation. The head bumps against your clit, slapping against it a few times before guiding it down to your entrance. The two of you moan at the stretch, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So tight, sweetheart. Fucking meant for this dick.”

Your eyes flutter close, trying to compose yourself before you feel him begin to move. You can feel every inch and every vein inside your velvety walls. The aroma of sex over takes your senses as his thrusts begin to pick up speed.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, his fingers intertwine with yours as he slams into you, deep and speedy thrusts causing the bed to creak beneath your masses. “Take it, baby. Take it so daddy can fuck you full of his cum.”

Your walls pulsate around him, your hand squeezing his. “Want it.”

“Fuck, might knock you up sweetheart. Make you a mommy as an apology.” Your back arches, his voice bouncing off the walls inside your mind. You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, head empty and pussy gripping his length.

“Like that? Mark you as mine forever, pretty tight pussy all mine.” You wail, gripping onto his shoulders tightly, leaning back your head in attempts to stop yourself from being too loud. “Gonna keep you here all night, make sure that this sweet cunt takes it.”

Pleasure blinds your vision as you let go, your cum coating his dick as he begins to chase his own high. Your head lolls emptily to the side as he continues to fuck into you relentlessly, the head board hitting the wall behind it. Your tits bounce with each thrust, the image of you getting pumped full of Leon’s cum still evident in your mind.

His hips shudder as he releases inside of you, hot and sticky fluid accompanied by some curses and words of praise, earning a satisfied hum from you. Thrusting in a few more times, he admires the sight beneath him, distributing your fluids evenly.

He pulls out, flopping down next to you, as his arm wraps around your body, pulling your closer to his chest. Rough hands pet your hair, as he rests his chin on your temple, keeping your body warm next to his.

The two of you sit in silence momentarily trying to catch your breath. Your eyelids feel heavy, body completely worn out and satisfied as you start slipping away into a much-needed worry free rest, hearing your lover whisper something into your hair.

“Sorry for being mean, sweetheart. Daddy loves you.”

⋆·˚ ༘ * ୨ৎ ⋆·˚ ༘ *

divider by: @/floriseu

[watcherintheweyr]

I can't believe I'm writing this

To open up with: IT IS ABSOLUTELY OKAY AND VALID TO BE DISAPPOINTED BY THE LACK OF WORLDSTATE CUSTOMIZATION IN DRAGON AGE THE VEILGUARD. I have my own disappointments about it!

Ok? We have that covered? We good?

Cool, moving on.

To people who are genuinely, hatefully angry, saying we will now be 'forced into Bioware's worldstate' (when this year alone they've stated there is no 'canon' worldstate more than once), or saying that none of our prior dragon age choices matter, I need you to take a step back and walk with me for a second, okay?

For starters: John Epler stated that one of the reasons they narrowed the choices is because they DO NOT want to invalidate the worldstates of their longtime players. However they also don't want to alienate newer players who don't have the history and lore of the past choices. It's a narrow line to walk.

Secondly, I want you to really look at the choices made by your Hero, Champion, and Inquisitor. Which of those choices genuinely affected NORTHERN Thedas, not Southern Thedas, to the point it would linger for years afterwards? Which of those choices weren't things that specifically affected or altered the sociopolitical Southern Thedas climate and landscape in lasting ways?

The Well? Kieran?

That only leaves that if your Inquisitor drank, they now have knowledge from ages long past... that Rook doesn't need. Rook has a direct line into Solas' history and a possible Veiljumper background, unlocking those very secrets on their own.

It's entirely likely and probable that the Well's fears and threats were a red herring. Think about it. We as a gandom have spent TEN YEARS worrying about the Well, about Solas, about Mythal.

Come June 2024, we're slapped in the face by the big bads of Ghilan'nain and Elgar'nan.

Morrigan likely isn't going to be close and friendly with Rook- so there's likely not much reason for her to tell us about her child or husband if she has them.

The rulers of Southern Thedas aren't going to affect us. We aren't tackling the current world ending crisis from the position of a leader of armies like the Warden and Inquisitor, but as leader of a small task force. The Southern Divine doesn't much affect us either- nor do Southern mage politics or templar politics.

Because Rook is an entirely new perspective.

Because Rook is in an ENTIRELY different sociopolitical climate/landscape.

I DO think there should've been ways implemented to specify your Inquisitor's bonds and personality. I'm HOPING maybe there still are that we haven't seen. But otherwise?

My Warden is free. I can say she's cured her Calling and is wandering the world with Zevran.

My Champion can retire into total obscurity with his husband or be quietly helping said husband destroy the slave trade. Either way.

Your history and choices in Thedas still matter. Your heroes still matter.

They just aren't Rook's focus.

Take a breath please. And stop sending death threats to the devs bc what the **fuck.**

EDIT:

further context from the devs on Bluesky

[malavera]

Logan: "I'm right here, Bub." (18+) — Logan Howlett

summary: You had a fight with your father, he pissed you off so much you ran off to Logan's for comfort. But is that all you want?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Legal age gap, Unprotected sex, logan has a big cock, reader wanted creampie, reader is called peach, daddykink, foul language, spanking, choking, basically SMUT.

an: concept is inspired after reading @plutodexay-nsfw's thoughts/ideas i hope i got the permission to write this one! This one's dedicated to you!

🏷️: @robynanthonystark @joelsgoldrush @bpmiranda @bobateababe @simonwifu @weallhaveadestiny @daddy-hugh-jackman @suchasweetieee @kholdkill @superhoeva @narjuko @wcndercore @bontensbabygirl @weallhaveadestiny @heart-0f-silk @peachyystuff @the-occasional-artist1125

this is part 4 from my series called Peaches, you can read it as a standalone! if you wish to read the previous ones, click here.

🍑 Check out my other works here

🍑 Logan masterlist here

🍑 do buy me a coffee if you like this one ;)

“Logan! … Logan! Where are you?!”

You storm into his house like a burglar ready to hit the jackpot, the wind rushing in with each determined step. You're on a mission to find the six-foot, muscular beast of a man—and complain about what a complete jerk your father is. How dare he come back from his long-awaited business trip with a woman on his arm, declaring she’s the one he’s going to marry—after all this time since your mother’s death. You put up a hell of a fight back there, screaming and crying, saying that you will not accept that woman as your step-mother as there will be no one that can replace or resume your mother's love.

Logan knew about this. Your father had a long conversation with him, asking whether it would be a good idea to introduce this woman to you. Logan didn’t want to come off as a know-it-all, even though he is, but he steered clear of family matters. Still, if your father had asked for his honest opinion, he’d have told him it wasn’t the best idea—you’re not emotionally ready for something like this.

And then you were off, rushing to Logan’s, even though your father yelled your name countless times. His new girlfriend held him back, urging him to let you be for a moment, to give you some space.

“I’m right here, bub.” Your head snapped toward the sound of his voice from the kitchen, where he stood, a mix of pity and disappointment etched on his face. His eyes reflected sadness, but there was also a glimmer of understanding; he knew how you felt, even if he believed you should show more respect to your father.

You exhaled sharply before rushing to him, enveloping him in a tight hug. His body radiated warmth, and with each passing moment, your anger melted into a puddle. Sobbing into his neck, Logan wrapped his arms around you tighter, his hand gently caressing your long, soft hair as he shushed you. “There, there, calm down, Peaches,” he cooed. He lifted you off your tiptoes, and your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Holding you close, he made his way to the living room, settling down on the couch with you in his embrace.

“I hate him. I hate him so much,” you murmured into his neck, grumbling a bit as your anger began to bubble up inside you again.

“I know, Peach, I know. It’s okay—just calm yourself, okay?” Logan gently pulled you away to face him, wanting to see those beautiful eyes, even if they were now clouded with tears. Your eyes were bloodshot and red, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sniffled, struggling to hold back the snot threatening to escape.

You sighed, looking down, pouting. "I need you, please..." You whispered, your hands fisting his buttoned up shirt.

"What do ya need, Peaches?" His eyes searching for yours, looking for your honest answer.

"I need to fuck you, please. Please give me what I want." You pleaded, finally looking at him as your hips started to move on his lap a little.

Logan’s eyebrows knitted together, torn between giving you what you wanted and being the better man who took care of you. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sickness in his gut; even as you cried, he found you utterly adorable and breathtaking. He wanted those tears to be from pleasure, that only from him you would receive. He wanted those tears to be from the pain of taking his big cock, his hips piston while fucking you hard. Too bad, the day he saw those tears streaming down those kissable cheeks, was from every little girl's first love, their father.

“Please,” you pleaded once more, pressing your face closer to his, connecting your swollen lips to his soft ones. You began to peck and kiss him all over. The kiss was charged with your wants and needs, the urgency evident in its hurried pace. Short breaths mingled as your tongues swirled together.

Logan couldn't find the words; all he could do was surrender to your control. In that moment, he convinced himself it was okay—as long as it was what you wanted and it made you happy, he would give in. Because why? Because he was in love with you. He knew it was complicated, that he should be cautious given the age difference, but from the moment he laid eyes on you, he vowed that you were meant for him and him alone.

The fabric of his jeans felt rough against your exposed skin once you started grinding on him. The tent in his pants started growing each time you ground yourself more to him. Soft moans and pants coming out of your lips as you ground yourself more on his bulge. You placed both of your hands on his shoulders, supporting yourself to grind more on his lap. Logan leaned back and scootch his bum a little lower so you'd feel more comfortable moving on top of him. His arms that were wrapped around you now lay defenseless on his sides, as he now lets you do whatever you want on him.

"This what you want, Peaches? To use me?" Logan grunted, his eyes watching yours as you screwed them shut and whimpered.

"Please—Need... More," you whimpered. You moved a little to sit on his thighs as your hands found their way to the band of his jeans.

"Peach," Logan spoke, he wanted to stop you right there but he himself is not even sure if he should stop this moment right here and right now. You fumbled with his jeans attempting to undo it and once it's done, you pulled his jeans along with his boxers a little, enough to free'd what you're looking for.

Logan grunted once his cock released to open air, slapping against his clothed abdomen. You gasp, even though you've seen it, it never fail to always leave you breathless. His cock stand tall and proud, and you couldn't help but immediately scootch off his lap, until your knees hit the soft carpet, to grab him with both hands and put the tip inside your warm mouth.

Logan nervously moaned from the feeling of your warm tongue twirling around his tip that keeps throbbing from the way you suck on his cock. You purposely let some of your saliva spilling out of your mouth down to his balls, as you let one hand reached down to knead his balls in your hand.

"Argh, god." Logan grunted, screwing his eyes shut, tossing his head back. His hand found your head, as he fisted some of your hair. "Peach," he choked out a moan.

You whimpered before you started to bob your head up and down his cock, purposely making a mess with your saliva. The slurping and squelching sound from sucking his cock is the only thing that fills the quiet room, along with Logan's constant grunts and heavy breathing.

Giving him a couple of bobs before you release his cock from your hold, Logan grunted in surprise. You pushed yourself back up on your feet as you attempted to pull your panties off. Logan could literally smell your arousal leaking down your needy cunt. You pushed him to lean against the cushion as you mount on his lap before grabbing on his cock giving him a couple of pumps while you aim his cock at your entrance.

"Peach, peach—Wait... Baby, I gotta get us a condom." Logan hastily stop you right there but you whined and hold him by his chest.

"I need to feel all of you, Daddy, Please." Before Logan could say anything, he moaned once he felt you sinking down on his cock slowly while you looked down mouth agape slightly trying to hold down the pain from his monster cock tearing your walls.

Logan wished he'd claim your innocence in some other way, other than this. He wanted it to be special, to be memorable for you, but if this is what you want, and he'd hoped this would be memorable enough for you, then so be it.

He grunted through his gritted teeth, trying to hold himself from combusting in you right there and now. The way your tight walls choking his thick cock, it feels like as if he was getting choked by his neck. Your tight cunt felt so good around him, he wanted to take the matters into his own hands and fuck you hard right there.

"Baby, can you move, please?" Logan, is the one who pleaded.

You whimpered before nodding your head as you started to move yourself up and down his shaft. Once you get the hang of it, you place both of your hands back on his shoulders. Eyes bore into his as his into yours while your lips spill out the prettiest moan he's ever heard from you.

"God! Logan, you're so big." Logan lazily smirked.

"I know baby, I know you can take it. Come on, work that pussy on daddy's cock. Use, me baby." Logan whispered, his hand found its way to your nape, pushing your head closer to him to connect your forehead against his.

You started to screw your eyes shut, whimpering once you feel him move his hips along your rhythm. "So good, daddy." You sobbed.

"Yeah? Need to fuck that anger away on my cock, don't you, Peaches?" He reminded you why you needed his cock. To fuck your pain and anger away. The little girl that was once fragile on top of him all of a sudden snapped into someone even you don't recognize. Someone sinister that has been long living inside you.

You snapped your eyes open, eyebrows knitted together before pushing your head off disconnecting from his forehead. Logan keeps his face neutral, looking at you and groaned when he felt your hand wrapped around his throat. You started to move your hips rapidly, like riding a horse to make it gallop fast.

"Yeah, that's it, baby. Use my cock, come on, make yourself feel good. I know you're mad, baby. I know you do, come on, fuck my cock. Faster—Harder!" Logan gave your ass a couple of smack earning a loud moan from you, resulting in getting a rapid move from your hips.

"Yeah... There's a good girl," Logan whispered. "Come on, baby, I know you can do better than that," Logan coo'ed when he felt your hand attempted to squeeze his neck. He almost laughed at you on how pathetic you are, trying to control him.

So he reminded you, even though you're in control, who's the captain of this ship.

Logan's hand found your neck, as you choked out a moan. His squeeze was far from choking you but it felt like he was. He started to thrust his hips upwards, fucking your throbbing pussy; the squelching sound could be heard. His semi-saggy-and-heavy balls slapping against the bottom of your ass, sounding like a clap.

"Awh—Daddy!" You pathetically moaned for him. "Daddy—Yes! Right there, like that—Please! I wanna cum." You pleaded.

"Come on, Baby, cum f'r me."

"Ah—!" You shrieked with your eyes screwed shut as your whole body stuttered reaching your orgasm, coming down on his cock.

"There... We go." Logan helped you ride off your orgasm by still softly fucking your cunt. "Now come on, make daddy cum. Daddy wants to cum too." Logan whispered before he begin to fuck you back, fast.

"Ngh—Daddy! ... Does my cunt feel good around your cock?" You softly spoke, looking down at him flexing your doe eyes and your famous pout while Logan's bore into you, his mouth fell agape slightly as his main focus was to reach his high.

He panted, he groaned, while you're there on top of him doing nothing but letting him use your cunt. "Grrh—Fuck! 'M gonna cum." Logan grunted and now you started to fuck him back forcing his hips to stay down.

You rode him fast, faster than before to help him reach his high. "PEACH—GET OFF!" He boomed but you refused to listen to him, instead you crazily smiled at him and spill out tiny moans, looking at him.

"FUCK—I'M GONNA FUCKING CUM! GET OFF OF ME!" Logan roared.

"Cum in me, Daddy—Yeah!"

Logan couldn't hold himself any longer, his moral is not even working at the moment. All he thinks is only shooting his hot load out and he does, as he choked out a moan gripping your hips to stay in place while he shoot out his strings of cum inside you. His thighs stuttered a little while he still emptying his load; it was so much.

You giggled watching him trying to gain his breath while he looks at you dead in the eye.

"I better not see that attitude for the rest of the night." Logan warned while you just sit there, on top of him, looking at him without a care of his words.

"Thank you, Daddy."

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader New

Synopsis: Everything between you and Ser Aemond was now new, but always natural. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Princess Secret Relationship, Fluff PREVIOUS PART

You tasted like the berries you had during tea time. So sweet. Aemond never cared for sweets; he found them too addicting, so he had managed to control himself when consuming them. However, with you, gods— he didn’t think he could ever have enough. Was it too soon to say he was addicted? By just one taste of you, he was certain he could never live without it. Now that his lips had known the pressure of yours— now that he had known your taste; he could never go back to simply wondering and dreaming about it. With just one taste, you had made him a man obsessed. 

Aemond ignored all his sensibilities and cupped your cheek, deepening your kiss— pulling you impossibly closer to him and seemingly never wanting to let you go; how could he? When he felt your soft, plush lips stagger, Aemond knew he must part for you to catch your breath, controlling himself even though he wanted to keep your lips against his. He opened his eye, the image of your parted, swollen lips— your flushed face and wide eyes forever engraved in his memory. You were not his first kiss, and he cursed himself as to why he had sullied his lips with others when, all the while, yours were waiting for him. 

“Oh gods…” you said in shock as to what you had done. You could not even look into Ser Aemond’s eye— too scared of what his reaction would be. Indeed, he was scandalized— perplexed at what you had done. You had crossed all boundaries— you had passed the point of no return, and though you yourself had no wish to go back— there was no regret; you knew your knight, who would forever hold himself in his duty would not take your actions well. “I…I’m sorry,” You say,  discombobulated; you did not even wait for his reply, for you quickly ran away, leaving your knight confused and flushed.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” You muttered as you entered your chambers, humiliated and ashamed for what you had done. You covered your face with your hands, the feel and taste of your knight still prominent on your lips. He tasted like mint and a bitterness you did not mind. You breathed heavily as you heard the clank of his armor from the other side of the door. You bit your lip, already deciding in yourself that you would hide in your chambers once more, unwilling to face the consequences of your actions. 

Aemond stood at his post, knees weak as his mind recalled your kiss. He turned towards the door, having the urge to enter your chambers and confront you. How could you just kiss him and run? Had he done something wrong? Perhaps you did not enjoy it as much as he did, or maybe he accidentally bit your lip? He did not know anymore. All he knew was this was the first time his body had reacted to such a kiss, and he could only hope that you felt the same. 

When night came, you had not left your chambers. Aemond could barely hear you. Usually, he would hear you speaking to yourself or Theodore, but not once had he heard a word leave your lips; the only indication that you were still there were your quiet footsteps as you paced around your chambers. 

As Aemond thought about your actions once more, he began to wonder what had led you to do such a thing. Why would you kiss him? What was the reason for you to bestow upon him your first kiss? There was just one apparent reason he could think of. You kissed him because you wanted to. You kissed him because you wanted him. Aemond was left overwhelmed with such a line of reasoning. Had you fallen for him as he had fallen for you? Did you truly want him as much as he wanted you? Aemond sighed heavily, his mind running and jumping to conclusions that had no concrete explanation— but he convinced himself that your kiss was a reason enough for him to believe— to hope that you held affection for him as well.

You paced in your room, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as you tried to think of a way to proceed. Surely, Ser Aemond would want to be removed from his station— that he cannot be your sworn protector after you had shown such actions that crossed all boundaries. You paled at the thought. You did not think of the consequences! You have no wish for Ser Aemond to leave your side, but what else could he do after you had kissed him? You had placed his station at peril, and you had laid yourself to scandal. When a knock sounded out, you paled as the knock was the familiar pattern of your knight’s. You stayed silent and held your breath, hoping he would think you were already abed.

“I can see your shadow by the door, princess,” You hear his muffled voice declare, and you quietly groan as you have no escape. You breathed in heavy breaths as you gathered all your courage to speak, “C… co— come in,” You squeaked, and Ser Aemond slowly entered your chambers. There was a tense moment of silence that was then broken by your rambling and profusely apologizing for your actions. “I’m sorry! I…I think I was going crazy— and… and I had no intention of offending you an—“ Aemond pursed his lips, a wide smile wanting to escape as you went on and on with your apologies, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as your hands moved with each of the multitude words that left your lips. 

“I’m sorry! I— please, you don’t have to leave your station… no one needs to know what had happened. And I swear it would never happe—“ Aemond shook his head and captured your lips before you could finish your sentence because he would never forgive himself if you made such promises. You were taken by shock for a moment as you felt his thin lips against yours again, but as he cupped your cheek, you turned lax and let out a sigh as your eyes fluttered to a close. Was it too soon that you were already addicted to his lips? You always thought that your favorite thing would be tasting the sugar on your lips each time you had your little sweet treats, but by just the second taste of Ser Aemond, you knew it had been dethroned— nothing could compare to him. 

When your lips parted, you looked upon him in shock and confusion, your mind trying to find an answer as to why he would kiss you, and there was only one answer you could think of. You breathed in a shallow breath, “Do you… do you like me as well?” You questioned, fearing the answer as there was a possibility he could say no. 

Aemond smiled and tucked in a loose lock of your hair, letting his fingers brush your soft, warm cheek. “It’s impossible not to,” he whispered softly, watching as the scarlet on your cheeks turned maroon. “Really?” You asked in disbelief as you still thought your affections for him were unrequited. “Why?” You could not help but ask— still finding it hard to believe that he would be attracted to you as well, especially as he had seen you in all of your states. “Why?” Aemond breathed out a laugh as his other hand cupped your cheek as well. “Oh, princess… because you are kind and genuine— you are selfless and caring— because… you are you— that is reason enough for me.” You bit the insides of your cheeks as you had no words— your insides were overwhelmed with further affection for Ser Aemond that all you could do was kiss again.

“You know, I really tried not to like you— but it truly is impossible,” He added as your lips parted, a smile on his lips as you circled your arms around his neck. Your lips agape at his confession. “Was that why you were so mean to me before?!” You gasped as you had thought it was your fault— that you had done something that made your knight hold such bitterness. Aemond only shrugged, “Now I’m starting to wonder why I like you,” you muttered in tease, and Aemond chuckled, pinching your side in tease as well. You laughed and pressed yourself further upon his frame, his hold on your cheeks lowering to your waist. “What now?” You asked after a short moment of silence, savoring the way he held you. “Nothing— we just stay as we are, by each other’s side,” He said and placed a kiss on the top of your head as you let him hold you for a few moments more. 

You breathed in deeply. You have always wondered about this day— when you would finally find someone you would want. You imagined that there would be great anticipation— fireworks accompanied by the loudness of the world, the erratic beating of your heart— and your nerves consuming you. You thought you would finally get that confession during a rainstorm or a heated argument; nothing about how this had all transpired. Everything was calm with Ser Aemond— almost anti-climactic, and you knew you would prefer stillness more than uproar. His love was silent, and you would gladly listen for it. 

“What did you do last night?” You almost choked on your tea as your brother asked the question. You blinked for a moment, resisting to look upon your knight whose lips had met yours countless times last night. “Uh… I was tired. I went straight to bed,” You lied, feeling an inkling of guilt as you were not accustomed to offering your brother full lies— you’d often fib but never lie. “Oh, well, you do look rested— though a bit flushed,” Your brother shrugged and went on with his meal. You sat quietly, trying to reign in the blush on your cheeks and the smile that wanted to slip your lips as your mind kept replaying the scenes with Aemond (He insisted you called him without titles when it was only the two of you.) holding you and kissing your lips. 

“When did you realize you liked me?” You suddenly questioned when it was only you and Aemond in the gardens. You hear him cough, seemingly caught off guard by your question. You smiled widely as you turned to face him, a pinkness in the tip of his ears that you would consider his version of a blush. “Uh…I don’t— I’m not quite certain,” He said, genuinely uncertain. He could recall the exact moment when he realized he had fallen for you but not the moment you questioned, which led him to think, when did he exactly start to like you? He could recall his first days, trying impeccably hard to dislike you, to hold animosity that was not backed by any support to dislike you— but he could not remember the exact moment when he finally started to let go of that forced animosity. 

You hummed and nodded, no longer prying and forcing him to think about your question. “And you? When did you realize that you were harboring feelings for your knight?” He returned the question, biting the insides of his cheek at how quickly a blush came to your face. He moved from his station behind you and stood to where you looked ahead, enjoying further the image of you sitting on your chair in the gardens, the flowers that surround you making you look more ethereal in his eyes.

“Your night off,” You answered, watching as Aemond frowned in confusion. You’ve always liked— you’ve liked him for the longest time, but not until recently did you realize that you loved him, an emotion so great that you could not yet share with him. “What?” Aemond questioned, surprised as you knew the exact moment. You shrugged, “I uh… I know I said I sneaked off into the city to watch a show— and that is true, yes, but… I was hoping to run into you, in which I did.” You smiled as the pinkness on the tips of his ears furthered. Aemond bit his lip and looked around the gardens, his heartbeat spreading throughout his whole body at your confession. “So you have been pinning for me this whole time?” He asked quietly, a further feeling of affection for you surging through him. “As if you haven’t,” You retaliated, twiddling with your fingers as you felt your stomach flip when Aemond breathed out a laugh and nodded slowly. 

You parted your lips to ask another question, enamored with the idea that both you and Aemond had been longing and yearning for each other but had stayed silent until either of you could deny your attraction, but the sound of a cat’s whine caught your attention. You frowned as you thought it was Theodore, but you had left him sleeping in your chambers. You sat straighter and saw a ball of white fur by the foot of your knight, the feline nuzzling its face on your knight's leg as it purred. “Look! A kitten! Pick it up,” You said to Ser Aemond as you as well stood in excitement. Aemond looked upon it warily, not certain how to react as he was accustomed to Theodore’s animosity and indifference towards him. Aemond slowly did as you told, and you huddled by his side to have a clearer view of the cat with white fur and sapphire-like eyes. You gently petted its head and assessed it for its gender whilst in the stiff arms of Aemond. 

“Aww… she likes you! I feared that cats are indifferent to you, seeing how you interact with Theodore,” You mumbled and scratched the head of the feline that just appeared. “We should keep her,” You said as Aemond’s arms were growing tired at how he held the cat an arm’s length away from him. “We should?” He questioned as the cat stared at him. “Yes! She clearly likes you!” You said, and the feline only meowed as you took her in your arms as you sensed Aemond was growing uncomfortable. “What should we name her?” You questioned and returned to your seat and set the cat on the table, offering her some berries in your hands that she readily nibbled upon. 

“I… I don’t know,” He muttered, mesmerized by you, who petted the feline with so much love and adoration, though you had only met it. “Surely you have a name that you like! Come now, name her!” You urged and turned to Aemond, who could only stare. He was drawing a blank— the only name he truly liked was yours and perhaps Seraphina, the name you planned to give your future daughter, but other than that, he could not think of anything. “I’m not good with naming, princess,” He said quietly as passersby started to appear. You pouted and continued to pet the cat, thinking of a name that would match Theodore’s. “Hm… what about Sapphira? Her eyes look like sapphires, do they not?” You asked, hoping your knight would agree. Aemond felt a small smile twitch on his lips as you looked upon him expectantly, “Then Sapphira it is,” He agreed, grateful to witness as a wide smile come to your face. 

“Go on, play with her,” You urged Theodore as you returned to your chambers to have the two cats acquainted. Aemond stood by the door and observed you earnestly try to make both of the cats play with one another. However, Theodore only rested on your lap, staring at Sapphira, who played with a ball of yarn with indifference. “Theo, come now, we got you a playmate!” You say, talking to the cat as if it were an actual human being. You turned to Ser Aemond, and at the mention of him, Theodore suddenly hissed, surprising you. “That’s quite rude,” You chastised your cat but still soothingly brushed his fur. “I still do not know why Theodore does not like you, but Sapphira was quickly taken by you,” You say, and Aemond tensed, the memory of what he did for Theodore to dislike him replaying in his mind. 

Aemond stared down as Sapphira came to him, urging him to join you in the sitting area where you sat. You smiled as Aemond threaded closer to you, moving from where you sat to make room for Ser Aemond. You smiled as Theodore was in your lap, and Sapphira jumped onto Aemond’s. You glanced about the room and saw the reflection of the two of you in a mirror. Sat next to each other with cats on your laps, the damned gap between dissolved, and you hoped you would never appear again. 

“Aemond,” you called as he cautiously petted the fur of Sapphira. “Yes, princess?” He asked, turning to you. “I uh… I really like you,” You confessed the obvious. A blush once again creeps up to your cheeks. Aemond bit his lip, feeling like a boy again, which was odd because he didn’t think he ever felt like a boy, but you had that effect on him. “Good. But you must know that I like you more,” He stated, and your smile only widened, and you could not help but kiss him once again. It was a rather odd feeling— kissing someone. You never thought about how it would feel or how you would react when doing it, but though the sensation felt new, it felt natural— too natural, if you’re being honest. Kissing him felt so easy as if you were just breathing. It was exciting, yes, but most importantly, it felt pure— instinctive, as if you were born to kiss his lips. And perhaps you were. 

[ginkgooou]

dance lessons | alexia putellas

summary: you and alexia try dancing.

this one took a while; i rewrote it like three times before i was finally happy with it. i'm no expert in dancing, but i tried my best to describe the moves. i hope you enjoy! feel free to send feedback or requests. 😄

english is not my first language.

4,272 words

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

you were out with alba, leisurely strolling through the city, when you came across two people handing out flyers. as you were about to walk past, one of them stepped forward, stopping you with a friendly smile.

“hey, do you two want to try a dance class?”, the woman asked you, offering you a flyer.

alba just shook her head. “no, thank you.”

you stopped, intrigued, taking the flyer from her hand and looking over it. it seemed like a fun idea, something you could do with alexia - an opportunity to try something new together.

as you skimmed the paper, the lady explained, “we teach ballroom and latin dances. it's for beginners, so anyone can join. you can sign up online if you're interested. the website's on the flyer.”

you nodded thoughtfully, looking up at her with a small smile. “thank you. i'll think about it.”

with that, you turned to alba, who linked her arm with yours as you walked away. she gave you a knowing look. “you sure ale will do it with you?”

with a smirk, you replied, “i have my ways.”

☆

well, your way was simply signing both you and alexia up for the course without telling her. after three years together, you knew your girlfriend very well and you knew if you'd asked her, she would've immediately said no.

alexia loved her routines, finding comfort in the structure of her days. they gave her a sense of control in a world that often felt too chaotic.

you understood that and respected it, but every now and then, you'd try to pull her out of her comfort zone a little. a new restaurant, an unexpected detour through the city or, when time allowed, a spontaneous road trip - just small things. it was always a struggle to get her to agree to your ideas. alexia could be very stubborn, but you always found a way to persuade her.

you knew that this time would be particularly difficult as it wasn't a one-time thing like usual; the dance course would last over several weeks. you could already picture your girlfriend's grumpy face, insisting she didn't want to go, claiming that she had football and no time for something like this.

but, you'd already made a plan.

first, you decided that instead of ordering in, you'd make dinner. you settled on cooking pasta with the homemade sauce that she liked so much, hoping it would put her in a good mood.

you had just started on the sauce when you heard the soft click of the front door echoing through the apartment. it was quickly followed by the muffled sound of footsteps and the soft thud of alexia's bag being dropped on the floor.

a few moments later, you felt your girlfriend's strong arms wrap around your waist, her familiar warmth bringing a smile to your face. she placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder before resting her head there with a soft sigh.

“hola, mi amor. i missed you.”, she mumbled, her voice tinged with fatigue.

turning your head slightly, you gave her a quick peck on her lips, whispering, “missed you too. how was training?”

“good. lots of things to work on.”, she replied.

as you continued making the sauce, alexia stayed wrapped around you, watching you cook. “ale?”, you said gently.

she hummed in response, letting you know she was listening.

“why don't you go shower? dinner will be ready soon.”

alexia just pressed herself closer, burying her head in your neck, making you chuckle at her clinginess. “baby, come on.”

“vale.”, your girlfriend grumbled, clearly reluctant to let go. with a sigh, she finally released her hold on you and headed upstairs.

while she showered, you finished preparing dinner and began setting the table. you were just plating the food, when you heard alexia coming back downstairs.

you looked up to see your girlfriend padding into the kitchen, her wet hair falling over her shoulders, wearing a hoodie and sweatpants.

“it smells amazing, amor.”, she said, coming over and kissing your cheek. you smiled at her, turning back to the plates. “go sit down. i'll be right over.”

alexia nodded and made her way to the table, taking a seat and pouring two glasses of water.

once you finished plating, you walked over, setting the dishes on the table before sitting down beside her.

both of you eagerly dug in, conversation flowing effortlessly throughout the meal. between bites, alexia recounted her day, telling you about the intense drills, funny moments with her teammates and the interview she had to do while also asking about your day.

once you finished dinner, the conversation and you watched as the tension slowly melted away from her shoulders. her tone became lighter and more relaxed. you knew this was the perfect moment to bring up the dance class.

you glanced at her with a smile. “oh, i forgot to tell you! i was out with alba today. we went for lunch and then just wandered around.”, you began casually. “funny story, actually - we walked past some people handing out flyers.”, you continued, chuckling nervously as you watched your girlfriend closely.

alexia eyed you with suspicion. “what did you do?”, she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“well.”, you started, clearing your throat, “they were promoting their dance classes. i checked out the website - it looks really cool and professional.” you paused, grinning excitedly at alexia, “so, i signed us up for the course! it starts on monday.”

“no.”, your girlfriend said immediately, shaking her head. “no, no, no. we are not doing that.” you laughed at her instant refusal, expecting nothing less.

“come on, ale. it'll be fun.”, you urged, trying to convince her.

“no! i don't have time. i have football.”, alexia argued, crossing her arms defiantly. “sorry, amor, but it's just not happening.”

you sighed, giving her your best puppy dog eyes. “please? for me?”

your girlfriend quickly looked away, knowing she would crumble if she looked at you much longer. “..no.”, she repeated, but her voice lacked the firmness it had before.

sensing she just needed one more little push, you proceeded with part two of your plan.

you scooted back and stood up, alexia's eyes following you as you moved to straddle her lap, your arms wrapping around her shoulders while hers instinctively fell to your hips. she slightly leaned back in her chair, making room for you.

you slowly leaned in, lips nearly touching. “please?”, you asked again, your lips brushing hers.

you could see alexia's resolve wavering and you knew you almost had her. closing the distance between you, you pressed your lips softly against hers. when you pulled away, your girlfriend chased your lips, clearly not ready for the kiss to end yet.

“for me, baby?”, you asked again, a smile forming on your lips.

alexia opened her eyes, gazing up at you. after a few seconds of silence, she sighed dramatically. “i hate you.”

your grin only widened. “so you'll go with me?”

“yes.”, she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “but i don't like it.”

“thank you, thank you, thank you!”, you squealed, showering her face with kisses. your girlfriend tried to keep a straight face, but she couldn't suppress the wide smile spreading on her lips.

☆

it was monday evening, just before 6 pm, and the dance studio was filled with people. you stood near the back, surrounded by couples who were much older than you, their chatter filling the air. shifting nervously, you glanced at the door for what felt like the hundredth time.

alexia was late.

you two had agreed to come here separately, since your girlfriend had a late interview. she had assured you she would make it, but as the clock crept closer to 6, doubt started to creep in.

when it was time for the lesson to start, the two instructors, a woman with a warm smile and a tall man with black hair, stepped forward.

“hello everyone and welcome to the course! i'm isabella and this is my partner, luis.”, the woman said enthusiastically, her voice carrying across the room. “over the next few weeks, we'll be teaching you how to dance.”

you were trying to listen, but your thoughts kept wandering to alexia. as isabella started to explain a bit more about the class, the door suddenly swung open. your girlfriend burst through, slightly out of breath, still wearing her training kit.

“lo siento!”, she called out, blushing as she realized that everyone was looking at her. for a second, she scanned the room, her gaze darting past the curious looks before landing on you.

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as your girlfriend hurried over, weaving through the people. when she reached you, she leaned in for a quick kiss. “i'm sorry.”, she whispered apologetically. “i didn't mean to be this late. the interview took longer than expected.”

you smiled at her, shaking your head. “it's fine. you're here now.”

alexia sighed, running a hand through her hair as she looked around, clearly feeling out of place in her kit. “i didn't have time to change.”, she muttered, tugging at the hem of her shirt.

“don't worry about it.”, you said softly, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

someone clearing their throat beside you interrupted your whispering. you turned to see an older man giving you both a disapproving look. “could you stop talking? we're trying to listen.”, he said, sounding annoyed.

“sorry, we'll stop.”, you quickly apologized, flashing him a polite smile.

though, when you turned to your girlfriend and your eyes met hers, you let out a giggle. alexia couldn't suppress a grin, quietly shushing you and gesturing to the front.

you tuned back in just in time to catch isabella's last words. "so, our first dance will be a slow waltz," she began with a smile. "but before we begin, let's go over the hold."

she turned to luis, who took her hand in his as they stepped into position. he placed his right hand gently on isabella’s shoulder blade, while she rested her left hand on his upper arm. their free hands met between them. “the lead,” he explained, “places his right hand on the follow’s back, just here, and the follow’s left hand goes on the lead’s arm. your other hands meet, like so.” they turned in a circle so everyone could see clearly. they invited you to try it out, moving through the room and giving tips when needed.

“okay! now to the box step. it is really simple.”, isabella said. “the lead steps forward with their left foot. the follow steps back with their right.”

on cue, they moved, their feet sweeping across the floor in perfect synchronization. “step forward,” luis said, narrating his movement, “then side with the right foot, and bring your left foot to your right. then, you’ll step back with the right foot, side with the left, and close the feet again. that completes the box.”

you shifted your weight slightly, looking at alexia, who was staring at the instructors as if this dance was a tactical briefing before a big match. her brow was furrowed in concentration, which made you grin.

after they had showed you the movement a few more times, isabella smiled encouragingly at the class. “now, it’s time for you to try. we’ll walk around and help you.”

you turned to alexia, a playful glint in your eye. “so,” you began, raising an eyebrow, “who’s going to lead?”

your girlfriend chuckled, moving closer with a confident grin. “me, of course.” she tried to get into position, placing her hand on your shoulder blade, but you stepped back, not ready to give up just yet.

“but what if i want to lead?”, you asked hopefully. alexia shook her head. “no, i lead. no arguments.”

you huffed, pouting slightly as you mumbled, “so not fair.”

with a sigh, you finally let her step closer and take hold of you while you rested your hand on her upper arm. you could feel the warmth of her hand against your back, and despite your earlier protest, an excited smile crept on your face. “well, then. lead the way, capitana.”, you told her, laughing as she shot you an annoyed look at the nickname.

as it came to trying the steps, you could feel alexia’s earlier confidence beginning to waver slightly. she bit her lip, glancing down at her feet, and then stepped forward with her left. you weren’t ready yet and stumbled a little as you quickly tried to follow her lead and move backward, but you couldn’t hold your balance and accidentally stepped on her toes.

“oops, sorry!”, you blurted out, pulling back.

alexia just shook her head, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “no, it was my fault.”, she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. “okay. let’s try again.”

you both repositioned yourselves and tried again. this time, you were ready and as she took a step forward, you moved back with your right foot, staying in the rhythm. alexia was incredibly focused, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“forward, side, close.”, she murmured to herself, following the steps. the determination in her eyes made you smile, but you could also feel the tension in her body. “hey, ale.”, you said softly, catching her attention. when she looked up at you, you continued, “try to relax. this is just for fun.”

your girlfriend took a deep breath, trying to let go of the pressure. “you’re right. just for fun.”, she replied, smiling at you.

after a few minutes, isabella made her way over to you. “good! that’s good.”, she praised, offering a warm smile. “but try not to look down at your feet. keep your eyes on each other or look over the left shoulder.” she gestured for you to step closer together. “you can also move closer together. it will help you feel the movements and make it easier to follow the lead.”

you and alexia nodded, moving closer, and got back into position. your eyes met and a soft smile passed between you. when alexia stepped forward this time, you could feel the shift in her weight, making it easier to anticipate her next move. the closeness made everything smoother, as if you were more in tune with each other.

“that's much better!”, isabella remarked before moving on to help the next couple.

after the first successful attempt, you tried the box step again. but it was alexia who faltered this time, accidentally stepping on your toes. “i'm so sorry.”, she muttered, her cheeks flushing as her gaze shifted over your shoulder, embarrassed. “it's just…”, she trailed off, meeting your eyes for a brief second before quickly looking down at her feet. “it's hard to concentrate with you so close.”, your girlfriend admitted softly, biting her lip.

you smiled at her confession, finding it incredibly endearing that even after all this time, you still had this effect on her. you couldn't help but press a quick kiss to her cheek. “i love you.”, you told her as you pulled away, catching the soft smile that lit up her face.

alexia's hand pressed gently against your back, drawing you closer, her eyes sparkling with affection. “te quiero.”, she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, making your heart flutter.

suddenly, luis’ voice cut through, interrupting the moment between you. “alright, now that everyone's practiced the box step, let's learn the turning box.”, he announced, moving to the front of the room. “isabella and i will demonstrate.”

alexia cleared her throat and let go of you, turning her attention to the instructors.

luis took a moment to position himself with isabella. “the lead steps forward with the left foot, but this time, instead of moving straight, you'll turn slightly to the left.”, he began, showcasing the first move.

“as you step to the side with the right foot, your body should turn about 90° to the left.”, he continued, guiding isabella through the movement. “then, step with the left foot next to the right.”

they showed you the turns a few more times, with isabella also guiding you through the follow's role. as the demonstration concluded, luis turned to you all with a smile. “now it's your turn again.”

you and alexia quickly got back into position. “ready?”, your girlfriend asked, looking at you with a soft smile. “yes”, you answered.

you tried it slowly, wanting to get a feel for the added movement. it worked surprisingly well; you barely had to think about it as alexia confidently led you into the turn.

alexia was focused on the steps, murmuring them quietly under her breath. with each turn, you got more comfortable, feeling more confident in your steps.

encouraged by how well it worked, alexia picked up the pace a little and soon, you were gliding across the floor. just as you executed a smooth turn, you suddenly became aware of another couple moving in the opposite direction.

before you could react, you collided with them - your shoulder bumping into the man's side while alexia accidentally stepped on the woman's toes.

“oh no, sorry!”, alexia exclaimed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. you, on the other hand, struggled to keep your laughter in as you turned to the couple, who looked just as surprised, but quickly joined you in the laughter. the man shook his head, waving off the mishap with a hrin. “it happens to the best of us.”

once you repositioned yourselves, you began anew, alexia now more aware of her surroundings. but the collision seemed to have made her relax more, smiling slightly while continuing to dance.

when luis approached, he smiled brightly at you. “that's really good!”, he said, nodding with approval. “keep it up!” the praise filled you with confidence and when you looked at alexia, you found her beaming with delight, her eyes sparkling with pride.

after a few more minutes, isabella moved to the sound system and put on music. “now, let's try it with music.”, she said enthusiastically.

as the melody of a slow waltz filled the room, everything changed. the soft notes wrapped around you, making the steps feel more fluid and natural, the rythm guiding your movements. alexia's confidence grew with every turn, leading you through the dance seamlessly.

you spent the remainder of the class learning more about the waltz, with luca and isabella showing you new steps here and there.

as you laid in bed that night, you turned to face her. “so, how did you like the class?”, you asked softly.

alexia shifted slightly, turning her head to meet your gaze in the dark. a small smile tugged at her lips. “i actually liked it.”, she admitted.

you raised an eyebrow, teasing her. “really? that's funny, considering someone didn't want to go at first.”

she chuckled, her hand reaching out to playfully nudge your arm. “yeah, yeah. but, really, it was fun.” her fingers intertwined with yours under the covers.

you grinned, satisfied with her confession. “i told you it would be.”

alexia sighed softly, leaning in to kiss you. “it was only fun because i did it with you.”

you smiled, your heart fluttering at her words. alexia wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you closer, her warmth lulling you to sleep.

☆

over the next few weeks, you continued going to the dance studio every monday, learning something new each time. throughout the week, you tried to practice as often as you could, but time seemed to always slip away from you.

both of your schedules were packed - alexia busy with training, matches and interviews while you had your own work commitments. it usually ended up with you practicing an hour before having to leave for class. but, despite the lack of practice, you both had improved quite a lot, especially alexia.

you could see your girlfriend's confidence grow with each session, her movements becoming more fluid and graceful. she led you effortlessly through the various dance routines - slow fox, cha-cha and tango - as if she had been dancing for years. she was a natural at this.

at least, that's what it seemed like to you.

one afternoon, you decided to surprise alexia and pick her up from training. you had a free day and since alexia's car was at the mechanic, she needed someone to pick her up.

after parking your car, you made your way over toward the building's entrance. halfway there, the door swung open and the first few girls exited the building. as soon as they spotted you, their faces lit up with excitement, and they rushed over.

“hi! i haven't seen you in sooo long. i've missed you so much.”, claudia said, pulling you into a tight hug.

you smiled warmly, returning the hug. “hey, clau. i missed you, too. work's just been a lot these days.”

after claudia let go, you turned to greet patri and ona with a hug, too. meanwhile, claudia continued talking, “you should visit more often. ale’s so much nicer when you're around.”

you couldn't help but laugh at that, knowing all too well how your girlfriend could get when it came to football. “i'll talk to her.”, you replied with a grin. then, glancing toward the building, you asked, “but speaking of alexia, where is she?”

more players had started to trickle out of the building, but still no sign of your girlfriend. ona was quick to answer your question, “she wanted to do some extra practice. she's still out on the pitch.”

you turned back to the group with a grateful smile. “ah, thank you. i should've known.”, you chuckled. “i guess i'll head in to find her.”

patri grinned, nudging your arm playfully. “you'd better. otherwise, she'll be out there all day.”

you laughed, pulling each of them into a quick hug. “alright, bye guys.”, you said, the three of them echoing your words as you headed toward the building.

inside, you made your way through the familiar hallways, your footsteps quickening as you approached the pitch, the faint sound of voices drifting toward you.

but as you stepped outside, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks.

there was alexia, but instead of practicing football, she was…dancing. and with mapi, of all people. they seemed to be attempting the tango - or at least something that resembled it. your girlfriend was, of course, leading, her movements focused and graceful.

mapi, on the other hand, was clearly less enthusiastic about the whole thing. “why am i doing this? i don't want to do this!”, she complained, barely trying to follow alexia's lead.

your girlfriend, already looking annoyed, sighed in frustration. “you need to be closer. i can't do this if you're standing a mile away from me.”

mapi threw her hands up. “i don't want to be closer, i need my space! i want to be free, not glued to you!”

you stood silently at the edge of the pitch, trying to stifle your laughter as you watched the scene unfold. alexia, determined as always, restarted the routine, but mapi still kept stumbling over the steps. your girlfriend's patience was running thin, the vein on her forehead looking ready to pop.

“come on, mapi. you're not even trying now. is it really so hard to follow a few steps?” her voice rose in frustration. “it's so much easier with ingrid! why do you always have to make everything so difficult!”

“well, i am not ingrid! and i am trying!”, mapi shot back, stamping her foot and refusing to take another step. alexia took a sharp breath, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “dios mio, i've had enough! you are no help.”, she huffed, rolling her eyes. she spun around, ready to storm off the pitch, but then her eyes fell on you.

she froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “oh, no.”

you couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you stepped onto the pitch. “oh, yes.”

alexia blinked, trying to recover. “it's not what it looks like…”

you raised an eyebrow. “it looked like you were trying to dance.”, you teased, coming to a stop in front of her. “so this is what you've been up to?”

alexia blushed, looking everywhere but you, thinking of ways to get out of the situation. “it's just been a few times…”, she mumbled.

but mapi, who clearly had enough, jumped in. “a few times? she's been dragging ingrid into this for weeks! alexia stole my girlfriend - ingrid's always busy with her now. she barely even talks to me at training! and now i had to dance, too.”

you laughed, watching your girlfriend grow more embarrassed by the second. “i see. and you didn't tell me because…?”

alexia ran a hand through her hair, giving you a sheepish smile. “i just… wanted to impress you.”, she murmured quietly.

you chuckled softly, moving closer and cupping her cheek. “you're so silly, my love.”

your girlfriend wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “i'm sorry?”, she said with a crooked smile.

shaking your head, you leaned in to kiss her again, only to be interrupted by loud gagging coming from mapi. “ugh, can you not? this is torture.”

you both laughed, breaking apart as alexia turned to her best friend. “you're one to talk. and just so you know, i'll never dance with you again.”

at that, mapi began to laugh happily. “thank god!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae, congrats on 7k!!!! <3 Could I get Remus with apple pie, 25) a cold cement floor against skin?

Thanks for your request!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 551 words

You’re spread-eagled on the cement floor of James and Lily’s garage. You’re worried you have sweat stains under your armpits, but not worried enough to hide them close to your body. No, you need all the contact with the cool ground you can get. 

“Um.” You strain your neck to look in front of you, but it’s only Remus. “You okay?” 

You let your head drop back to the floor. “Yeah,” you sigh. “S’nice in here.” 

“It is ungodly warm out.” He grunts quietly as he sits beside you. “If Sirius had shown up before the afternoon, we could’ve been done and inside by now.” 

James had asked you all over to help plant their new garden as a surprise for Lily when she comes home from her parents’. Poor Lily has been wanting to do it ever since they’d bought a house with a backyard, but she was first too busy and now too pregnant to be kneeling on the ground under the sun for hours. You’re not even pregnant and you worry it’s killing you, so really you’re glad the worst of the labor is being done for her. 

“I sat down to drink my water,” you gesture with your chin to the half-emptied cup at your side, “but the floor felt so cool I decided to lie for a bit. It gets a good breeze in here, feel?” 

“I feel it,” Remus agrees. His own hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, but he lifts a hand to move yours, brushing damp strands away from your face. You close your eyes and hope your sigh conveys the appropriate gratitude. 

“I’ll get up and help in a second,” you promise. 

“That’s alright. Take your time.” His voice is an amused hum. “I didn’t come to fetch you, only to check on you.” 

“Have I been gone long?” 

“You don’t know?” 

“Might’ve fallen asleep.” You’re beginning to sound slurred even now, the cool floor against your skin lulling you into a trancelike relaxation. “I didn’t realize quite how hot I was until I came in here. You know?” 

Remus’ hum is tinged with worry. “Yeah, I think so. Sit up and have some water for me, lovely?” 

You push yourself up with a heavy sigh, picking up your cup. You worry you’ve left slippery sweat spots on the floor. “I’m okay,” you reassure him. 

“That’s good.” He lifts the hair off your neck, holding it in one hand so the air cools your nape. “Maybe you can have another water, just to be safe. We’ll bring them for everyone on our way back out.” 

“That’s a good idea.” 

“Hello?” Sirius comes around from the back, peering at the two of you. “You’re just slacking off without me, are you? I didn’t know we were having a break.” 

“You had your break in the morning when we were here and you weren’t,” Remus reminds him. 

“Oh, James is all by himself out there now.” You force yourself up, your thighs sticking to the floor. “I’ll go help him.” 

“Just bring him back for some water,” Remus says after you. “We could all use a breather.” 

“I swear,” Sirius grouses, “if he hasn’t stocked his freezer full of ice pops to compensate us for all this, I’m not going back out.”

[mbsneur]

Bold motivation

Laia Codina x Reader

Hello everyone, I've returned with a new piece of writing that I hope you'll like and enjoy. Tomorrow, I'll be sharing the Aggie story. I'm open to any feedback and messages you may have, and I'm also open to any wishes you may have! 🩵

Warnings: Smut18+ minors DNI, public sex

My Masterlist

It's been a week since Laia lost not only to Brazil but also to Germany in the bronze medal match, you can understand her, Laia's not really feeling well, she's grumpy with you, she lies on the couch all day and doesn't give you any love and you miss your girlfriend. The season is about to start again and you want to cheer Laia up and take her to the gym, as you both always do when one of you isn't feeling well.

You walk down the hallway in your training leggings and top, towards the living room where Laia is lying on the couch: "Laia, baby, let's go to the gym," you call to her, and she grumbles and turns back into the pillows.

You move closer to her and lean over the couch, planting kisses on her face. "I'm going to cheer you up, Laia. Trust me," you say firmly. Laia finally turns to you. "Let's cuddle on the couch," she says. She says in her sweetest voice, where she knows she can convince you. "And exactly because you're not feeling well, we're going to the gym. Come on. Venga " You say louder this time, and Laia just rolls her eyes.

She gets up and stomps annoyed into your shared bedroom where she puts on her gym clothes, after about 5 minutes she comes back to you still with an annoyed face, you lean against the wall and just laugh at her.

"I finally get a real kiss," you say with a grin, and Laia immediately gives you a soft kiss on the lips, "I only do this because I love you," she says ironically, reaching for her car keys.

You follow her laughing and, despite her bad mood, she is still a gentleman and opens the passenger door for you.

Your journey has been the same as always, Laia has her playlist playing and you talk to her and give her a pep talk and she gives you a little smile now and then.

When you arrived at your gym, checked in and put your things in the locker, you had an idea and luckily the gym wasn't too crowded, you chose a quiet corner where no one was around.

"Laia, can you do 15 sit-ups and then maybe you can get a little reward?" you say mischievously, grinning at her "Yeah, are you going to tell me what to do?" she says with a grin, coming closer to you "The reward, baby," you say teasingly, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"What kind of reward will it be?" she asks as she moves to the floor, you just shrug your shoulders and watch her do her sit ups, it always turned you on to see Laia working out.

When Laia has finished her sit-ups, you kneel on the floor and pull her towards you for a kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth and explores every inch. One of her hands grabs your arm to pull you closer to her. You detach yourself from her and pull your top off. You were wearing a sports bra underneath, so it's not really a problem if anyone sees it.

Laia's eyes roam from top to bottom, taking in your whole body, "ah, I see, that's how it works," she grins and starts to kiss you again, deepening the kiss and reaching for one of your breasts, you push her hand away, "Laia, that's not how it works, you have to do 15 push-ups first," you say, moving away a little, you pull yourself back and she start to nibble at your neck, "Laia," you moan softly, "one minute," she says between kisses and nibbles. one of her hands pinches your nipple you squirm under her and try to move away but she is stuck to you

You moan slightly as Laia kisses your neck again and you finally manage to push her away from you. "Laia, the push-ups," you say, your voice firm and out of breath. She goes to the floor again to do the push-ups. You sit there and watch every movement of her strong arms with every push-up, admiring the way her biceps grow stronger with each one. you knew exactly that sex is the best motivation for laia

Laia has done her push-ups and comes crawling back to you. She lands on your neck bone and kisses it repeatedly. You drop your head back and moan. One of her hands slips under your sports bra to feel your breast, which makes you moan again. When you ask Laia what her favourite body part is on you, she tells you it's your breasts. She has always loved your breasts more than anything.

"Laia, stop, you have to run a few kilometres on the treadmill" you say, breathing lightly and Laia moves away from you, you realise that at this moment she would do anything you ask her to because she wants you, she wants to fuck you in this gym.

She gets on the treadmill, a little reluctantly, and you have a plan. You sit down directly in front of Laia so that she has the perfect view of you. You were turned on by the whole thing. Laia had worked on your breasts before, and you now look directly in front of her with your legs spread apart.

When you looked at Laia, she was nervous, her eyes were almost black and she was struggling to walk, you wanted to give her a little show, you played with your bra straps and rubbed your thighs.

Laia's mouth is slightly open as she turns off the treadmill and starts to walk towards you, "Laia, no," you say in an annoyed voice, but Laia ignores your words and comes over to you, grabbing your arm, "Let's go to the toilet," she says in a slightly angry voice, pulling you up from the bench.

She pulls you behind her on the way to the toilets. You quickly grab your top, when you arrive at the toilets. Laia pushes you in and starts kissing you harder than before. You moan into her mouth and she pushes you by the hips into one of the cubicles. She pushes you against the door and her hands wander all over your body.

She nibbles on your lips and god you are so wet your underwear is ruined. "What were you thinking teasing me like that?" she says against your lips. "I wanted to motivate you, baby," you say out of breath from all the kissing. Laia turns you around and pushes you onto the toilet lid. Within a second she is kneeling in front of you.

She kisses the bare skin on your belly and pulls your trousers down to your ankles "You will be quiet now or I swear to God you will not be able to walk for the next three weeks," she says in her strong Spanish accent and something about the thought pleases you.

She pushes your underwear aside and works your pussy directly with her mouth. You whimper and hold a hand directly in front of your mouth to suppress any noise. Laia is enchanting with her tongue, and you can't help about this

She looks at you and teases you with her middle finger, playing with your entrance.

"Don't tease me, Laia," you say firmly. "Let's make this quick I want to take you home and fuck you until you forget your name."

You moan at her words and her middle finger slips quickly into your wet hole.

Her mouth lands on your clit again and her finger pumps into you. Your head hits the tile wall and a slight whimper comes out of your mouth. Laia gives you a warning look and you press your hand harder against your mouth. You can hear how wet you are with every thrust Laia makes with her fingers.

You press against her, and her tongue clamps around your clitoris. She lifts your leg over her shoulder to get deeper inside you before a second finger slides easily inside you. You moan, and Laia bites lightly on your bundle of nerves. She pumps faster inside you, and your legs start to shake. Laia drives you closer to the edge.

"Laia, I'm coming," you say between moans and whimpers, your leg pressing closer to her cheek as she gets mercilessly faster "don't hold back baby cum for me," she says and immediately starts licking you again.

Your body relaxes against hers until you cum on her fingers and make a mess as she pulls away from you. Her mouth and fingers are covered in your juices. Her lips are glossy and slightly swollen above a dazed smile. "Such a good little pup, aren't you?" she says in a low voice. "Let's go home," she adds, and she helps you get dressed.

Tell me your opinion <33

[pinksturniolo]

Am I Wrong?

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem reader

warnings: foreplay (sorta) in the car, neck kissing, mentions of alcohol

a/n: this is not part of a new/existing fic, i will not be writing another part, the idea simply popped into my head after i saw their new tiktok lmao enjoy <3

Rain pelted against the windows of the moving car, the air around the two of you thick and almost suffocating from the tension. His lips hadn’t touched your own yet, but they were attached to your neck. His kiss was wet, warm and searing, causing heavy breathing from you as your heart accelerated with the feeling of his tongue on your skin. His large hand splays across your bare thigh, fingers teasing just inches from the hem of your dress, his other arm draped across the back of your seat.

You lean into him more as he buries his face even deeper into your neck and now his breathing is heavier as he practically pants against you, your desperate need for him to be closer as you tug on his tie. Your eyes slip close when his teeth graze you, and a small whimper escapes you as he sucks onto the spot right below your ear, directly under your jaw.

He smirks slightly, enjoying the fact that he’s causing this reaction from you. There’s no denying that he’s just as needy though, his hard cock aching in his suit pants. You’ve barely touched him since you two left the party but the feeling of your warm skin against his mouth and the small, pretty sounds he’s managed to elicit from you has his head spinning.

 He wanted more of you, he needed more. Ever since he saw you in that curve hugging black dress, leaning against the wall in the back corner of the room, lips wrapped around a glass of liquid courage. A warm glint in your eyes but a cold expression on your face, daring someone to approach you. He knew he couldn’t stay away.

In an effort to show him you feel the same and with a surge of confidence, you remove the grip you had on his tie and trail it down the soft fabric of his white dress shirt, unbuttoning the first few buttons to slide your hand inside and over his chest. He sighs against you and lifts his head slightly to momentarily pause his work against your neck of blue and purple marks. His mouth hovers against yours as you exchange breaths.

You want to kiss but the intensity is almost too much as your hands feel his bare chest underneath his wife beater. You can feel how hard his heart is pounding. He grips the side of your dress harshly, making it bunch up around your hip.

Once you move your hand out of his shirt and then down his abdomen, over the clothed hardness in his dress pants, he bucks his hips involuntarily and curses under his breath. He’s so sensitive and his reaction makes your already soaked underwear slicker with your arousal.

You’re suddenly very grateful that there’s a black privacy window in between the back seat and the driver. You’re not sure if it was a luxury Uber Chris had ordered or one of those shiny blacked out Tahoe SUVs that rich people and celebrities got driven around in. You barely even noticed the make of the car when you climbed in, his hand holding yours as you rushed into the backseat, hoping that no curious paparazzi or fans would see you two.

But now the car is rolling to a stop, seemingly arriving at your destination. Rain continues to come down outside, the only sound that can be heard besides the heavy breathing. 

Your hand is still placed on his crotch as he tangles his fingers in your hair and looks down at where you’re touching him. “Okay hear me out.” He takes in a shaky breath as you apply a little more pressure to your touch, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you feel how big he is. Your mind races with thoughts of how it would feel… how it would fit. How he would sound.

“Would I be completely out of line if I was to say you’re gonna come inside with me right now… up to my bedroom and… let you do anything you want to me?” He rasps, looking back up at you, the look in his blue eyes driving you insane.

“Or am I wrong?”

taglist: <3

(this is my current one, pls lmk if anyone wants to be added or removed bc i haven’t posted in a while and im not sure if it needs to be updated!)

@christhopersturniolo @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturniolopepsi @riasturns @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @eryismum @sturncakez @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @mattscoquette @jnkvivi @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @bambi-slxt @streamermattsgf @mattspolitank

[hyunebunx]

💝 with jisung 🤭

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💝- 'a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: manaa <33 i hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it <3 thank you sm for requesting!

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to drop by and find your boyfriend creating, brainstorming for another song while strumming his guitar or tapping a pen on the table to the rhythm created in his head. Inspiration struck at the oddest of times, not giving him a break no matter how spent or exhausted he was. And you had to understand – when the creative juices were flowing and he was in the zone, nothing and absolutely nobody mattered until he finished the song.

You find yourself in his room, sitting across from each other on the floor as you’re listening to your boyfriend go on and on about this new idea of his, strumming random chords on his guitar as he struggled to find a note he was satisfied with.

His fluffy brown hair bounces everywhere as he talks, glasses dropping a little too low on the bridge of his nose as he hasn’t raised his head from the instrument since you came in, half an hour ago.

“I’ve had this melody stuck in my head since yesterday but I can’t seem to get it out.” He hums, in hopes you might recognize it or help him somehow. He’s out of luck because truth be told, you stopped listening ten minutes ago.

You loved his creativity and passion but sometimes, like right now, you just needed his love and affection and Jisung has been too busy to notice.

“How about a snack?” You ask, standing up to which your joints thank you joyfully.

Jisung mumbles a quick ‘yes’, granting you his attention for a split second before he’s back to his guitar, hunched over in concentration.

The house is empty except for you two, with Jisung’s roommate, Minho, away on a family trip. You’d never thought you’d miss his loud and over the top laughter but now, when your boyfriend was barely paying you any attention, its absence pains you. You never realized how lively Minho kept things around here – you need to show your appreciation when he returns.

You linger longer than necessary in the kitchen, preparing snacks and drinks for the both of you before shuffling back to Jisung’s room, thankful the door was left ajar with how full your hands have gotten.

The moment you step inside, Jisung’s head snaps up with the most endearing smile stretched across his face, glasses a little bit crooked. “Baby! I got it! Hear me out, please!”

His happiness lights up the room in such a way that almost blinds you, his smile contagious and making it hard to resist the urge to smother him with your love. Jisung has never given you a warning, for if you got one, you might’ve prepared yourself better before falling head over heels in love with him. Though, you can never prepare for these things. Love sneaks up on you the moment it finds an opening, when your guard is down and the last thing you expect is being hit by cupid’s arrow, right in the heart.

Looking back, you don’t think you ever stood a chance. You were doomed from the start, when Han Jisung walked in the room you were in, a few years ago, laughing loudly with the previously mentioned roommate. Your heart has been his ever since, the sound reeling it in and never releasing it.

He’s babbling on, excited, as you set the plates down on his dresses, making your way towards him with a newfound purpose. When you lean down to get his attention, he tilts his head up with a dazzling smile, still talking and oh so unsuspecting of your next move.

Without warning, you peck his lips, causing the words to die on his tongue as he freezes, reflexively kissing back the second time your lips meet even if his brain hasn’t caught up yet.

“Sorry,” you whisper against his lips, his mouth agape in surprise as you stare right into his hazy eyes, “you looked too adorable, I couldn’t help myself.”

The loud sound of the guitar tumbling out of his grasp startles you, and you look down in concern while Jisung doesn’t even seem to notice, too enthralled to care. Your kisses always had that effect on him, and he’s sure they’ll continue to do so no matter how many years pass. You had him wrapped around your little finger after all, the victim of the spell your love cast on him the moment he set eyes on you.

“Ji?” You shake his shoulder lightly before crouching down to return his guitar. “The song, baby?”

“What song?” Is the first thing he manages to let out, clearing his throat as he finally comes to.

You giggle, and that’s all it takes Jisung to set the guitar aside and pull you to him by your waist, cushioning your fall as you collapse onto him before his lips are on yours again, kissing you passionately.

For a moment there, he forgot his own name. How was he supposed to remember whatever song he came up with when you used your evil powers to steal all of his attention? Though, he supposes you can’t steal something that’s always been rightfully yours…

[pedroscowgirl]

maybe i’m a bit desilusional but…

what abt fem, young!reader taking care of hugh jackman’s kids? and he being so stunned at how caring she is he just wants to bread her and fucks her in a rude way??

if u dont like this, just ignore it complately ♡

hugh jackman x fem!reader

warnings: smut! minors DNI breeding kink, creampie, p in v, age gap (reader is 20 ish and hugh is 55) wc: 3,4k

a/n: ugh yes i love daddy hugh and i'm sure he loves being a dad aswell and he just can't wait to make u a mother. (and yes im aware his kids are older now but lets just ignore that for this story) i hope u like this tho!

You had never expected babysitting to become such an integral part of your life, but when the opportunity arose to look after Hugh Jackman's children, you couldn’t turn it down. What started as a part-time gig quickly became something much more meaningful. His kids, with their curious eyes and endless energy, pulled you into their world with ease. You were young, fresh out of college, and ready to tackle whatever life threw your way, but you hadn’t anticipated how attached you’d grow to this family.

Today was one of those quiet afternoons where the house felt like a peaceful bubble. Hugh had been out filming all day, and you were in the living room with his youngest, a mess of paints and construction paper scattered on the floor. You were helping them create a hand-painted masterpiece, your fingers gently guiding theirs as they carefully brushed color onto the page.

“You’re doing so well!” you encourage, a soft laugh escaping your lips as the child beams up at you, proud of their work.

Unbeknownst to you, Hugh had arrived home. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching in silence. The sight of you, so gentle, so patient, made something stir inside him. His children were the most important part of his life, and to see them so comfortable and happy in your presence was nothing short of remarkable. It was more than that, though. It was the way you smiled, the way you listened when they talked, as if every word they said mattered.

You hadn’t noticed Hugh yet, too focused on the child in front of you. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room. The image was almost too perfect, and for a second, Hugh felt like an outsider looking in on something beautiful, something he hadn't realized he wanted.

Finally, you glanced up and caught his eye. You flashed him that warm, inviting smile, completely unaware of the effect it had on him.

“Hey, Hugh,” you greeted casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to see him standing there. “We’re making some masterpieces here. You want to join?”

He chuckled, his voice slightly deeper, though there was an unfamiliar warmth in his eyes. “I think I’ll leave the artistic side to you two. You’re really good with them.”

You shrugged, still smiling as you turned your attention back to the child beside you. “They make it easy,” you said, your voice soft but genuine.

But to Hugh, it was clear that wasn’t true. There was something special about the way you connected with his kids, and it went beyond just being "good" with them. You seemed to understand them in a way that made him feel like he was seeing his own family through new eyes.

As the evening unfolded, the kids eventually grew tired, their energy winding down after hours of play. You took your time, making sure they were comfortable, tucked into bed with their favorite stuffed animals by their side. Hugh watched from the doorway, his arms crossed as he leaned against the frame, an unreadable expression on his face. There was something undeniably attractive about the way you cared for them, how natural and effortless it seemed.

When you finally closed the door to the kids’ room, you turned and found him standing there, still watching you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You weren’t sure why, but the air felt different. Charged.

“They’re out like lights,” you whispered with a soft laugh, breaking the silence, but Hugh didn’t respond immediately. He was looking at you in a way that made you feel suddenly self-conscious, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet admiration, almost as if he were seeing you for the first time.

“You’re incredible with them,” he said after a beat, his voice low. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them this happy. It’s like… you’re part of the family already.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you smiled, a little unsure of how to respond. “I’ve really grown attached to them,” you admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’re great kids.”

Hugh nodded, stepping a little closer. You could feel the weight of his gaze, his presence somehow more intense than it had ever been before. “I’ve noticed,” he said, his tone shifting to something more personal, more intimate. “You’re amazing with them, but… I’ve also noticed how kind and caring you are. It’s not just them you look after.”

You blinked, a little caught off guard by the compliment. “I just want to help,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his. There was something different in the way he looked at you now. Something deeper.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The house was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the wind outside. You were suddenly acutely aware of how close he was standing. His gaze softened, but there was a certain weight to it, like he was wrestling with something unspoken.

“Hugh?” you asked softly, feeling the tension in the air shift.

He seemed to snap out of whatever thought had held him captive, and he smiled, genuine, but with an edge of something more. “I’m just… grateful. For everything you’ve done. For being here.”

His words were laced with something deeper than gratitude, though. There was a sincerity that tugged at your heart, something that hinted at emotions he wasn’t sure how to express. You felt it too,this connection, the way he seemed to see you differently now.

“I love being here,” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

He took another step forward, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His eyes never left yours, searching, wondering. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet of the house.

“I think I’ve been blind to something,” Hugh finally admitted, his voice low and a little rough, like he was struggling to put his feelings into words. “You’ve become more than just someone who helps out around here. You’ve become… important.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. “Hugh, I—”

But before you could finish, he stepped even closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, but the tenderness in that small gesture sent shivers down your spine.

“I didn’t expect to feel this way,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper now. “But I can’t ignore it anymore.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know,he felt it too, this connection that had grown between you. It was more than just admiration for how you cared for his children. It was something deeper, something neither of you could deny anymore.

Hugh’s hand trembled slightly as it reached for your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with a softness that contrasted the fire in his eyes. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, lingering just below your ear as if savoring the sensation of touching you. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart hammering in your chest, and in that split second, you could see everything he was feeling—years of restraint and unspoken emotions flooding to the surface.

Before you could process it, he surged forward, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. His lips crashed into yours with a hunger that left you breathless, the kiss urgent and all-consuming. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing—just pure, raw need. His hands tightened their hold on your face, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as his mouth moved against yours, desperately seeking more.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up to grip his shirt as if anchoring yourself to the moment. His kiss was intense, filled with a yearning that had been simmering just beneath the surface for far too long. He tasted of warmth, of something familiar yet electrifying, and every brush of his lips sent waves of heat coursing through your body.

Hugh let out a low, primal sound from deep within his chest, a sound that only made the fire between you burn hotter. In one swift movement, his hands slid down to your waist, and without breaking the kiss, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your arms looping around his neck for support, and you could feel the strength of him beneath your fingertips—solid, unyielding, desperate.

With practiced ease, he carried you to the kitchen counter, the cold surface a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from both of your bodies. He set you down, his lips never leaving yours, his mouth moving with a hunger that made your head spin. His hands roamed your back, fingers gripping your hips, pulling you closer, as if the space between you was unbearable.

You were both lost in the moment, a whirlwind of passion and need. Clothing became an afterthought, your hands fumbling with buttons and zippers as you tried to remove the barriers that kept you from feeling every inch of him. His shirt was the first to go, discarded hastily onto the floor, followed by yours as he tore it from your body in a frenzied rush.

Hugh’s lips found yours again, more fevered now, as if he were a starving man and you were the only thing that could sate him. His kiss was desperate, full of longing, and his hands followed suit, exploring your body with a reverence that made your skin tingle. He was everywhere—his mouth on your neck, your collarbone, tasting the warmth of your skin as if memorizing every inch of you.

You gasped as his lips trailed lower, the sensation of his breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. He kissed the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, his teeth grazing lightly as you arched into him. His hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, and in a hurried, clumsy motion, he pulled them down your legs. You helped him along, your body trembling with anticipation, until you were both stripped down to nothing, the cool air doing nothing to quench the heat between you.

His body pressed against yours, skin on skin, the sensation overwhelming as his hands explored every curve, every dip. His touch was insistent, possessive, but there was a tenderness beneath the intensity that made your heart flutter. Hugh pulled you impossibly closer, his lips returning to yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with a slow, deliberate sweep that left you breathless.

He kissed you like he couldn’t get enough, like he needed to taste every inch of your mouth, his hands gripping your waist as if afraid you might disappear. You moaned into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer still. The need between you was palpable, an electric charge that sparked with every touch, every kiss.

Hugh pulled back for a brief moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His eyes, dark and full of desire, locked onto yours, searching for something—confirmation, permission, anything to let him know you wanted this just as much as he did.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost ragged from restraint.

You nodded, your lips swollen and tingling from his kisses. “Yes,” you breathed, and that was all he needed to hear.

With a low growl, he captured your lips again, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss deepened, more desperate now, filled with the weight of all the emotions you both had kept hidden for so long. He kissed you like he was starving, like the feel of you was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth.

His hands slid up your back, fingers tracing every curve, and then he was lifting you again, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. His body pressed against yours, every inch of him firm and warm as he kissed you with a hunger that made your toes curl.

The air around you felt electric, charged with a desire neither of you could control. His mouth moved against yours with the same urgency that echoed through your veins, each kiss leaving you gasping for more. Hugh was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body, all of him, devouring you, like he had waited an eternity to finally taste you.

Hugh’s eyes darkened with desire as he lined himself up with your entrance, his breath coming out in short, ragged bursts. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he pushed into you with ease, your slick warmth welcoming him effortlessly. The deep, guttural groan that escaped his throat filled the air, sending shivers down your spine.

“Fuck…” His voice was low and husky, filled with raw need. “This is all for me?” he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of admiration and lust.

You nodded, a soft hum of pleasure escaping your lips as your body adjusted to the sensation of him inside you. The fullness, the heat, it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Hugh’s gaze never wavered, his pupils blown wide as he watched your reaction, revelling in the way you responded to him.

“Such a naughty girl,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he began to move, his thrusts slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. Each roll of his hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your head falling back slightly as you let yourself melt into the feeling.

His breath was hot against your neck, and then his voice, low, dangerous sent a thrill straight to your core. “I’m gonna breed this fucking pussy so bad.”

The words were filthy, but the way he said them, the pure desire laced into every syllable, made your stomach flip with arousal. Your walls tightened instinctively around him, a sharp gasp leaving your lips at the thought of it, of him filling you up, marking you as his.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, his voice rough and demanding.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind. “Uh-huh,” you managed to say, your breath hitching as he rocked deeper into you, “but I… I keep forgetting to take it. It probably doesn’t work anymore.”

“Good,” he growled, his voice dripping with satisfaction. The single word was laced with approval, his hips moving faster now, each thrust more insistent than the last. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and soft moans that escaped you both.

Hugh was relentless, his movements precise and unyielding. He could feel the way your body was responding to him, the way your walls clenched tighter with each thrust, your breath coming faster, your moans growing louder. You were close, so close, and he knew it. He could feel it in the way your body trembled, in the way you gripped onto the counter behind you for support.

But just as the pleasure began to crest, just as you were teetering on the edge, he stopped abruptly. The sudden emptiness made you whine, your body crying out for release.

“Sorry, babygirl,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I need to fuck you from behind.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you off the counter with ease, turning you around so your back was facing him. His strong hands guided you, pressing your chest down onto the cold surface of the counter, your legs spread wide and trembling with anticipation.

Without warning, he entered you again, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, powerful thrust and slapped your ass. You gasped, your body arching back instinctively at the sudden intrusion. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he began to move with an intensity that left you breathless. Each thrust was deep, hard, and unrelenting, his body slamming into yours with a force that made you see stars.

Hugh’s grip tightened as he pulled you back onto him, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice thick and desperate. “You’d be such a great mom… I can’t wait to see you pregnant, to watch your tits swell with my baby. You're such a slut for me”

His words sent a shock of arousal through you, your mind reeling at the thought of it. The idea of being filled by him, of carrying his child, was driving you crazy, and your body responded in kind, your walls tightening around him, milking him for everything he had.

“And the nasty looks on everyone’s faces,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper, “when they see us walking around together, hand in hand. Such a young thing getting fucked by an old man like me. You like that huh?"

The filthy words, the possessiveness in his voice, it was too much. Your body trembled beneath him, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter as you neared the edge once again. He could feel it, too, the way your walls clenched around him, the way your breath hitched in your throat.

“Yes… good girl,” he growled, his hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “Turn your head for me.”

You did as he commanded, turning your head just enough for his lips to crash into yours. The kiss was messy, desperate, your tongues tangling together as you both chased the release that was so close, so inevitable. His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he lost control, the pleasure too overwhelming to hold back any longer.

You moaned into his mouth as your body finally gave in, your walls clenching around him in a violent wave of pleasure. Your legs shook, your body trembling as your orgasm washed over you, and Hugh followed close behind, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you with a guttural groan.

The kiss muffled both of your moans as you came undone together, the intensity of the moment leaving you both breathless. When he finally pulled away, you were spent, your body trembling, your legs barely able to hold you up. His hands were still on your hips, holding you steady as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

But before you could fully catch your breath, Hugh stepped back, his eyes darkening once again as he watched his cum begin to drip out of you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Fuck, I can’t let that go to waste,” he muttered.

Without warning, he slid two fingers inside you, pushing his cum back in with a slow, deliberate motion. You gasped at the sensation, your overstimulated body trembling beneath his touch. His fingers moved with precision, curling inside you as he held your hips in place, ensuring that every drop stayed where it belonged.

Satisfied, he quickly reached for your panties, pulling them back up over your hips to keep his seed inside you. The feeling of the fabric pressing against your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, the intimacy of the gesture making your heart race.

“There we go, babygirl,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Gotta keep it all in, just in case.”

You nodded, too breathless to speak, your body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. Hugh’s arms tightened around you, pulling you close as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth.. Your legs were still shaking, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I meant what I said,” Hugh murmured against your skin, his voice low and serious. “I can’t wait to see you pregnant.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, the weight of them settling in your chest as you turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty in his gaze—just pure, unfiltered desire.

And in that moment, you knew he meant every word.

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[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To Be Seen

Azriel x Reader

This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.

This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.

Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.

Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask

Word count: 2,389

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.

"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."

Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.

"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.

Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."

Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.

"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."

"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.

With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.

The word tasted sour on your tongue.

Burden.

Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.

"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.

"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.

Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"

"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.

Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.

Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.

"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.

Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.

No time like the present.

Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.

Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.

Would anyone love you like this?

You couldn't think.

Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.

Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.

"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.

"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."

The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.

"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."

Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.

"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.

Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.

"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.

Guilt?

Worry?

Longing?

You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.

"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.

While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.

"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.

"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.

"I walked."

"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.

"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.

Pride.

Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.

Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.

"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.

But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.

"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.

"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.

Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.

Maybe you would be okay.

[dropsnectar]

Your Puppy Siren!: When a Siren becomes a House Husband

PART TWO

NSFW

Obviously, when Baby got his legs, you couldn't just abandon him. You weren't sure exactly what was next for the two of you,, so you took it one step of a time. Baby had an issue with that, as balance wasn't necessarily a skill he could magic up with his oceanic enchantments.

He leaned on you the whole way home, taking jerky steps through the grasses.

When you showed him around the house, and the first thing he did was ask where you slept. You had shown him your bedroom and he immediately made himself comfortable about the blankets and pillows. You set him up with a copy of ‘The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe”, before going to make him dinner: mild Japanese curry. 

It was mostly vegetables, as you had only had a few ounces of ground beef left, but you hoped his stomach was as human as his now legs. His whole body had changed, leaving him now almost albino pale, with large dark eyes that were still a bit too big for his human face.

When you went to walk him to the dining room table, you found him standing, holding the book to the ceiling as he read. He was leaning back and forth on each foot, as if the movement kept him upright. Perhaps he still had his sea legs under all that new skin. 

He still needed your help to get to the table but his steps were more sure now. He ate the food happily, making sure to compliment you whenever possible. On the way back to your room, Baby could now keep his balance as he went. The first thing he did was gather as many pillows and blankets as he could from the living room, before leading you by the hand to your room, and arranging them further on the bed.

“Do you like it?” He asked, eyes eager. It had never occurred to you that Sirens may nest, but you took it in stride.

“It looks very warm.” you apeased, tired. 

Sleeping on the nest didn't go as bad as you thought, but Baby had been a bit confused when you had tucked a blanket around the two of you

“It's to keep us warm.” 

He had responded by pulling you to his arms and wrapping his legs around you.

“I can do that just fine.” He beamed. You laughed and let him hold you as you fell asleep. You could figure out Baby's fate tommorrow.

You had always pushed off the deciding of Baby's fate to tommorrow. You couldn't face it. Going to your part time job, then nursing school had been difficult for you. You were exhausted everyday you came back home.

Baby made himself as useful as he could. You had taught him some of the basics of cleaning the house. He had seemed somewhat confused by the idea of cleaning, but he took it upon himself to make sure the place was gleaming when you got home. You had taken him to the library a day after his legs sprung up, and he had carried home a pile of books, one of them being “Martha Stawarts Complete Guide to Housekeeping”.

 You hadn't resided in the place long, but places you hadn't even realized were dirty were suddenly sparkling and smelling lightly of lavender and orange peels. 

He had also brought home a whole pile of fish. It seemed that he could now shift his form back and forth at will. You remember coming home, sweat covered and in need of ibuprofen, when you found a pile of fish on the kitchen table. He had looked so proud if himself.

“We can keep them all in the freezer! What a useful device!”

You had gently taken his arms in hand and explained that humans weren't able to eat fish whole like sirens could. They had to be stripped of their scales and deboned. He seemed a bit tired by this, yet another a strange human quirk, but had taken it in stride. Per his request you had set him up with an instructional video on the subject. 

He seemed to catch on pretty quickly, the only difference was that rather than using a sharp knife, he had preferred to use his talon like nails. They were retractable, he clarified later, and arguing they were cleaner than any knife when you had demanded he washed his hands before working.

“They will only get dirty again anyway!” He had argued, one of the few times he had ever done anything but smile at you. The concept of germs was met with raised eyebrows and apprehension. 

For the first time in your life, you gave him “the look”. As this seemed to be a communication move that spanned species, he gave in, washing his talons? Claws? Before going back to his work.

A silent system had begun to flesh itself out. You brought home the money and groceries, and did most of the cooking, he did everything else. And anything you asked of him. Which wasn't much, but he became more and more useful by the day. 

You couldn't help but feel a bit proud for Baby. The more you learned about him and Siren Life the more different the two of you seemed. But he had been adjusting so well, you almost didn't have to worry about him. Plus, it was hard to be mad at someone who made a point of taking care of you, like he did. 

He gave you shoulder messages, microwaved old dinners when you didn't feel like eating. Hed shush you, and sometimes carry you to bed, petting your hair and singing you to sleep everytime everything felt like too much. And that was often. 

It had been a week since he had taken up shop in your bedroom, and reality reared its big fat head like a snake. You had been whisked away to bed, and instead of cooing at you and humming that impossibly sweet voice of his, he had started to nibble on the side of your neck, hands reaching towards your pajama shorts. His tongue felt so incredibly good, and his touch was like silk, but you knew where this would leave.

“Stop. We don't have any protection.”

He had frozen and blinked at you, expression changing to the barely concealed mask of an adult trying to not laugh at a child's sudden declaration.

“If I sense any danger, I will deal with it immediately. Now come here…” His voice grew husky. You trailed back.

“I know we haven't talked about this before but what if… well you're a human so im not sure if it'll be the same but… I can't get pregnant. I don't know if it works the old fashion way or you might lay eggs in me or something but… we need to be careful.”

He was still smiling but he was biting his lip. “While I DO lay eggs, that part of me hasn't changed, I don't understand why it would be an issue. I am your husband, after all, shouldn't it be normal to have children at some point?”

“H-husband? Why do you think you're my husband?”

Babys face changed, the closest you had ever seen him get to upset. “We mated, we share a nest, how am I NOT your husband?”

“We had sex, yeah, but we didn't get married. Do Sirens mate for life? Is that why you think this?” 

His expression grew animated and confused.

“Sirens do not mate for life, we have breeding seasons. But Humans mate for life, do they not? Why do you think I have been doing all this? I mean, I even made you a nest and you slept with me in it! How much more is their to a human marriage ritual?” 

You stared at him, the realization dawning. You slowly put your hand over his and arranged your expression to one of patience.

“Humans used to mate for life. But ita a bit different now. We can have sex, even spend years courting before we agree to marry.”

Baby just stared at you, his confusion and anger turning to one of hurt.

“B-but what does that mean? I told you, I love you. I want to be with you.” He leaned forward tears starting to glisten at the corner of his eyes.

“I wanted a life with you. I threw my old life away the moment I got these legs. I have no idea where my pod is now, I can not return to them. I do not wish to return. I want to stay here, with you and be your mate.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and then took your cheeks in his hand. He gazed into your eyes, filled with longing.

“I may be new to being your partner; at being Human too. But I will do whatever you ask of me. Please. Be mine?” 

He started to kiss your forehead. Then your eyes. Then your cheeks. His gaze strayed to your lips and he whined out, full blown tears now streaming from his eyes. 

“I'll be so good. So good for you.” 

Your heart went out to him. You had to admit, life had gotten so much easier to bear since he had entered it. No one could make you laugh like he could, could make you as curious as he could, could kiss you like he could. 

You thought about it. Genuinely thought about it. You had a job, and nursing would pay you enough to pay for both of your lives once you started. You'd have to teach him how to properly navigate human society but he was so smart and charming, you were sure he would do so well. You came up with so many reasons why it could be doable, but the most important one was you didn't want to let him go.

“It'll be really hard for you. Are you sure you want this?” You whispered. “Want… me? You could spend the rest of your life sharing your season with mate after mate. Are you sure you would want to spend the rest of your days with me?”

He looked at you with intensity, the light finally dawning across his features. 

“It will always be you.” And then he was on you. Was kissing you.

He was quick to take off your clothes, and did the same. His mouth was hot and needy, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth being everything you could ever want. That was except for one or two other places. 

As if he could read your mind, he grinned, pulling himself down to stare at your groin, fingers grasping, teasing and exploring every sensitive curve and crevice. Then he got to work with his mouth and you groaned, your core turning molten. You could hear the noises of his mouth on your flesh, and it made your cheeks overheat. 

His tongue glided around you as he sucked with his full mouth, making you shake and jerk under him. He made sure to pin you down with his hands now, before he started to trill and sing around you.

You chocked, pushing your hips up against his big string hands, which were now a mix of grey and white. It seems he had been riled up to, as his form was caught halfway between human and Siren. It was a new sight and he was absolutely gorgeous and one long note made you crash over the edge, toes and fingers curling. 

The whole time his eyes were on you, gauging your reaction. He continued to auck you through the high but now started clawing at your entrance, circling slick little shapes. He seemed to take great joy in this, teasing your ache, before he plunged his fingers in making you choke and sigh all at once. When he was certain the area was worked enough, he gave you big puppy dog eyes. 

“Can I be yours again?” He whispered huskies slowing the rate of his fingers. You nodded and he pulled himself up, pumping his own cock a few times making sure it was properly slick. His cock was half transformed too. It was extremely veins and the ridges weren't as pronounced, but he was thicker. You licked your lips as you remembered how he felt inside you.

Aware that you were watching him he keened in pride. He then slowly inserted himself, pushing further and further until you took every inch of him. You gasped out and clawed at the sheets in pleasure as he pumped you, his own eyes glazing over as he unleashed low, pornagraphic moans. He was louder than he had ever been, snapping his hips into yours, fingers clutching deep into skin. He looked completely blissed out as he rocked himself into you, huffing and moaning.

“Sound. So. Beautiful.” You breathed, knowing he was getting close. You could feel a heaviness now in the air. He wouldn't be able to help it. He'd be so drunk he'd use that song of his and you'd cum and cum for him until he was too far in exctasy to make any noise. And you were right.

You could tell he was holding it in. But he couldn't help but hum out, a song that seemed to cup and penatrate your very soul, making your entire mind stuffy and silly. You didn't want him to stop, going over the edge as another one of his moans turned into a full blown note. He kept bucking into you, skin slapping skin, as he keened and hummed and sang out for you. He wanted you to feel good. Wanted you to cum and feel good only for him. Because you were his.

When you felt his cum splash inside you it was warm, and more sludge like. It took a while to seep put of you. A comedic point in the back of your mind noted, “No eggs”. 

He pulled himself to your side, pulling you tight to him. “Can… can I stay in you for a while?” He said it in a light begging tone. You nodded, a pulse of faraway pleasure as he pushed his soft dick inside you again. It felt nice, being one with him in this sweet comfortable moment.

You wanted to ask him about the magic, about the song and how for just a moment, it was like you could read his mind. But their was something so special about the moment, you didn't want to push him too far. Maybe next time, you could egg him on to use that power on you, to be completely encompassed by his pleasure and song. 

“I know your tired, and we can wait but… can we do it again?” He pushed his nose to yours and traced it up and down, his eyes watery and begging. You could feel his dick twitch inside you. 

“Please just let me spoil you. It is our wedding night after all…”

You had to stop yourself from correcting him. Tomorrow you would explain vows and wedding ceremony, but for now you'd just give in. But you had to admit, now a big piece of you belonged only to him.. So, in a way he had been right.