#she deserves to leave and get rest 💕

[marciavalance]

Milena J. Comeau (the goat) leaving the show today. Another cannon just went off.

[amirasainz]

Can you do reader is the youngest of the drivers and practically everyone’s baby

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

F1's Darling

The paddock was alive with the hum of cameras, the chatter of mechanics, and the occasional roar of engines. At the center of it all stood Y/n Y/l/n, the 18-year-old phenomenon who had taken Formula 1 by storm. As Red Bull's youngest ever female driver, she wasn’t just talented—she was adored. A natural behind the wheel, witty in interviews, and effortlessly charming, Y/n had an uncanny ability to bring out a protective streak in everyone around her.

"Y/n!" A familiar voice called out as she stepped out of her garage after a gruelling practice session. She turned to see Carlos walking toward her, a warm smile on his face and a sandwich in hand.

"You need to eat," he said in his accented English, offering her the snack.

Y/n chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Carlos, you know I have a team that feeds me, right?"

"Yes, but they don’t feed you properly," he countered, waving the sandwich in front of her. "Eat. Now."

Laughing, she accepted it. "Thanks, dad."

Carlos grinned. "Don’t let Fernando hear that."

---

Later that evening, Y/n found herself wandering through a shopping district with Charles. The Monegasque driver had insisted on treating her after seeing how exhausted she looked post-qualifying.

"Y/n, this will look amazing on you," Charles said, holding up a sleek leather jacket.

"Charles, I can’t afford half the stuff you’re picking," she protested, though she couldn’t help but admire the jacket.

He gave her a mock-serious look. "Did I ask if you could afford it? You’re not paying. That’s the rule."

"You spoil me too much," she said, blushing as he led her to the counter.

---

Race day arrived with its usual chaos. As Y/n climbed out of her car after a gruelling 60 laps, Lewis was already waiting by her garage. He had a towel in hand, which he draped over her shoulders before handing her a bottle of water.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

Y/n nodded, her breathing still heavy. "Yeah, just... tired."

Lewis crouched slightly so they were eye level. "You did good out there. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

Her lips quirked into a small smile. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

"Of course," he said, patting her shoulder. "Now go rest."

---

The post-race press conference was brutal, as always. A journalist attempted to insinuate that Y/n's lack of experience cost Red Bull the race. Before she could respond, Max cut in sharply.

"Excuse me, but that’s completely out of line," Max said, his voice cold. "Y/n drove exceptionally today. She doesn’t deserve this kind of question."

Y/n glanced at Max gratefully, her nerves easing. After the conference, he pulled her aside.

"Don’t let them get to you," he said, his blue eyes serious. "You’re one of the best drivers here. Don’t forget that."

---

One afternoon, while sitting in the paddock, Y/n struggled with a stubborn bottle of water. She twisted and twisted, her frustration growing by the second.

Before she could ask for help, Fernando appeared out of nowhere, took the bottle from her hands, opened it effortlessly, and handed it back without a word.

"Thanks, Fernando," she said, startled but grateful.

He gave her a small nod before walking off, leaving her to chuckle at his understated kindness.

---

Lando was the team's unofficial mood-maker, and Y/n was often his favorite target.

"Knock, knock," he said one morning, leaning into her motorhome.

"Who’s there?" she asked, already grinning.

"Orange," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Orange who?"

"Orange you glad you have me to brighten your day?" he said, bursting into laughter.

Y/n groaned. "That’s terrible, even for you."

"But you’re smiling," he pointed out, grinning.

---

During a rare off weekend, George invited Y/n over to his place in Monaco. Over tea, he patiently explained racing lines and strategies that could help her in the upcoming season.

"You’ve got the speed," he said, gesturing at a diagram on his tablet. "Now it’s just about perfecting your consistency."

"Thanks, George," she said, scribbling notes in her notebook. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

"Learn slower," he teased, earning a laugh from her.

---

The camaraderie wasn’t lost on the fans or the media. They loved seeing how the drivers rallied around Y/n, treating her like their collective little sister. It wasn’t unusual to see clips of Lewis helping her out of a car, Carlos feeding her snacks, or Max standing up for her during interviews.

Y/n adored her team, but it was the broader F1 family that truly made her journey special. They didn’t just see her as a driver; they saw her as their driver.

"Y/n," Max called one evening as they were leaving the track. "You coming to dinner with us?"

"Depends," she said with a playful smile. "Is Carlos bringing food?"

"Always," Carlos replied from nearby, making her laugh.

As they walked off together, Y/n couldn’t help but feel grateful. F1 was a tough world, but with her self-appointed paddock family by her side, she knew she could handle anything.

[katebishopsbaefy]

oh my god 4 and/or 12 with billie i would die🙏

(also i love your writing sm💕)

prompt list

prompt masterlist

4) slow sex while one or both are injured

words: 607

“This is so dumb… This is so dumb…” she mutters to herself over and over and over. It’s starting to drive you insane.

“Billie, it’s not dumb. It was bound to happen at some point,” you snap, a little harsher than you meant you. When tears fill her eyes, your heart just about shatters.

She’d broken her ankle. Again. This must’ve been, what, the fifth time? It just wouldn’t stay healed, especially not with all of the jumping around she did on tour. She already knew the drill, all the icing and physical therapy and extra precaution that comes with the injury, and she was dreading it. In fact, you both happened to be sitting on the couch, icing her foot like the doctor had told you to do often.

“It is dumb. I didn’t- I don’t understand-” Billie starts, but her tears slowly start to take over.

“Oh, Bil…” you whisper quietly, your voice softening at the tears leaking down her cheeks. You know how hard this has been for her in the past. You hate to see her go through it again. You can’t move her much because you don’t want to jostle her foot, but you reach a gentle hand out to wipe her tears. “Hey… it’ll be fine, I promise. We’ll just… have more time to hang out. That’s not that bad, right?”

When you soften, she softens. She looks up at you with tearful, red eyes and shakes her head, her bottom lip protruding in a small pout. She looks adorable. Miserable, but adorable, and you can tell you might be getting through to her a little. “We can watch so many movies, and you can teach me how to crochet, and I can teach you French, and we can rearrange the whole house… it’ll be fun. I think you need a good break, anyway.”

At all of the suggestions, she can’t help but crack the tiniest, most heartbreaking smile you’ve ever seen. The look alone could make you cry. You cup her damp cheeks in your palms, and softly kiss the tip of her nose as you return the smile. “Can I getchu anythin’ right now?”

She sniffles softly, and her gaze leaves yours for a brief moment. Not for long, though. She’s not one to get very embarrassed when asking you for things. “...Can you take care of me?” she asks in a small voice.

If it’s possible, you soften even more. You can tell what that look in her eyes means; it’s not really about the sex. She just wants to feel close to you. And you want the same thing. “‘Course, baby. Here… lie down…”

It takes a long moment of giggles and almost falling off the couch, but you manage to get her situated with her back propped up against the armrest of the couch with the ice still on her foot. You slowly climb over her and rest your head on her chest, your finger on her clit. You rub soft circles into her, being so incredibly gentle with her. That’s all she deserves: gentleness. When she sighs, you can tell you’re doing a good job. Your lips trail over her neck, not hard enough to leave marks, but just enough to give her even more comfort.

“M’gonna come,” she mumbles through breathy moans and sighs, her body starting to tremble softly under you.

You kiss your way up to her lips, and mumble soft reassurances against them. They might be within the context of the sex, but you really mean them in the context of the long healing journey ahead of her. “I’m right here.”

[melanchoire]

hiya!! can i get a wonyoung ceo sugar mommy meal x secretary reader meal! wony making sure all ur needs are met financially and well.. sexually!! she drools whenever u bend down to pick up random files she "dropped" throat going dry at seeing ur ass so perfect!! :(( wanting to rail u in her office!!

cw: cunnilingus, fingering, semi exhibitionism??

ceo wonyoung who looks intimidating and is usually demanding or bossy with the rest of the employees except for her beloved secretary whom she appreciates so much 💗 maybe it’s because from the first time she saw you during the first and only interview you did for the job, you managed to win her attention and heart

and she is super nice and sweet to you! when you arrive at the company you always go to her office first, saying good morning to her and handing over the already completed paperwork or waiting for her to tell you what your task is for today, but you always bring her a steaming cup of coffee along with some toast or a bill because wonyoung usually focuses a lot on her work and and there are days when she forgets to eat breakfast or can't eat properly :( and she is so grateful to you that she usually gives you extra money to buy your own breakfast at the cafeteria that's a couple of blocks from the building, and even though you try to deny it and convince her that it’s not necessary, she does it anyway! making you accept it by giving you a sweet look and a small but beautiful smile

wonyoung also usually takes you to your apartment the times you leave work very late because you stayed up late finishing paperwork or getting some of your work done in advance so that you’re not so overloaded later on. you can try to deny it and tell her that you’re fine taking the bus, but she ends up driving to your house anyway, saying that it’s no problem for her because driving to your apartment is on her way home even when she lives in the opposite direction 🥰

just as wonyoung is sweet to you, she is also depraved in her thoughts. every time you lean over to put something down on her desk, her gaze falls on your cleavage and she admires how your shirt is tight enough for her to see the outline of your breasts — or when you throw something on the floor like a folder or a simple pen, having a pencil skirt and stiletto heels it's somewhat uncomfortable to bend over on your heels to pick something up from the floor, so you decide to just lean forward to grab the object and give her a delicious view of your ass under your skirt? you were practically begging wonyoung to pull down your skirt (or just hike it up a little because it looks so pretty on you) and fuck you right there!

and you always maintain a polite attitude and good manners when it comes to your beloved boss. everyone in the company may address her as “mrs. jang” but hearing that name come out of your lips just makes her want to know what it would sound like if it came out of your lips but you were moaning under her while she takes care of giving you the good fuck you deserve for all your effort working hard day and night 💕

until one day you show up at her office to deliver some documents, but unlike usual, your attitude is downcast and you’re quite tired. wonyoung just thinks you’re a little sleepy because it’s early in the morning, but when she looks up from her laptop she sees your tired expression and dark circles under your eyes :( she feels bad for giving you so much work even if it's your duty to complete the tasks and requests she gives you because that is your job as her secretary!! but seeing how tired and exhausted you look makes her feel bad and she can’t help but blame herself

“what happened, (y/n)? didn’t you sleep well enough last night?”

“i stayed up late to finish a couple of documents. plus, i lost the internet last night and it took me almost two hours to email you the files. sorry, boss.”

and she gets up from her desk chair, walking over to you and massaging your shoulders to soothe your tense muscles, moving down to massage your arms with her palms until her hands are caressing your chest and suddenly she is squeezing your tits through your shirt 😳 your eyes widen at her sudden action, looking up at her face only for her to tell you, “shhh, don’t worry. i will take that stress off of you.”

kissing wonyoung while running your hands through her silky wavy hair 😵‍💫 wonyoung is quite the perfectionist and likes to have a neat image, not allowing absolutely anyone to touch her hair or neat suit, but you’re her sweet girl and she has been longing for months to have your hands in her hair

parting from your lips to kiss all over your jaw and neck and leaving marks of her red lip gloss in the process 🥴 wonyoung knows that later before you leave her office she will have to make sure to remove the lipstick marks from your skin because she knows what her company’s employees are like, but she wants to see her marks on your skin as she makes you hers

“if anyone asks why you took so long in my office, you will say that we were discussing a couple of matters regarding the upcoming conference we will have next week, got it sweetie?” wonyoung is aware that she doesn’t have to give any explanations at all because she is the boss of the place and no one should dare to question her, but she is aware that gossips and bad tongues exist in the workplace, so she has to prepare an explanation beforehand!! just in case 😉

making you sit on her desk with your legs spread for her, exposing your delicate pussy to her hungry gaze… she doesn't know if you're nervous about being so exposed to her or because her desk is literally facing away from a giant floor–to–ceiling window in her office, but either way, she loves both options 🫣

fucking your hole with her tongue while her delicate hands keep a grip on your thighs to make sure they are open, not taking her gaze off yours at any time and keeping her eyes on yours at all times 😩 she knows she should tell you something when you eventually close your eyes and let your head fall back, but you’ve always been so good to her that she doesn’t dare scold you now

ohhh and her lips covered in your juices closing around your clit as she pumps two long fingers in and out of you… maybe this could be wonyoung’s new lip gloss instead of the expensive makeup she buys once a month

squirting all over her face and dirtying the desk beneath you, completely embarrassing for you but a blessing for her 🫠

rising from between your legs, joining her lips with yours so you can taste yourself on her tongue, separating for a moment to say “come to my office during lunch time. i have yet to reward you for doing such a good job for me.”

[rimunagenius]

I Could Die For you

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 1.2k

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

Something inside the cards I know is right

Don't wanna live somebody else's life

Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.

With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.

This is what I want to be

And this is what I give to you because I get it free

"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 

You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 

"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 

You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 

That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 

She smiles while I do my time

It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 

You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 

Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 

I could die for you

It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 

"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 

"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 

"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 

"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.

"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 

"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 

"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 

"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 

Oh, this life I choose.

You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 

[synthetickitsune]

may i please request florist!san who secretly likes a regular at his flower shop, then he learns that she finally recently broke up with her ex so he does all kinds of things to cheer her up like slipping in cute notes or chocolates in the flowers she buys and to also maybe shoot his shot 🥹💕

thank youuu and no need to rush! please do take all the time you need 🫶

San (ATZ) | Flower Shop AU + hidden notes fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader

The change wasn’t immediately recognizable for what it truly was. 

You might’ve missed a few weeks, which was concerning, but San understood that life happens and sometimes there’s just not enough time, money, or even energy to come to the flower shop, to keep the house looking pretty. 

And of course he spent the better part of those weeks worried if you’ll ever show up again.

Some little part of him hoped that you won’t - the unselfish one, the one that only cared about your happiness as he tends to care about all strangers that come to his shop. If you never come again, then perhaps your manchild of a boyfriend has finally grown into a full fledged man and started buying you flowers like you deserve instead of leaving you to do it yourself.

It was just one of the few pieces of information he got from the limited amount of small conversations you had. Your boyfriend would give you a couple bucks and tell you to go buy yourself some red roses. An exact amount that would in no universe be covered by the money he gave you. Truly, San wonders why you bothered with that guy. 

You deserve better. You deserve someone like him - but that’s only what the selfish part of his heart keeps telling him.

Things are different now, though. Something changed. You’re back to getting flowers, but they’re not roses anymore, and the bouquets are smaller. They also suit you more. You seem genuinely happy getting them.

San feels torn about it, although he’s mostly curious.

Until one day he sees your phone light up just as you’re about to pay, a name briefly flashing on the screen. You decline the call with lips pressed into a thin line. It’s not the time to be nosy, it’s not his place to ask-

“Is everything alright?” he asks carefully, then upon meeting your eyes he panics, “It’s just you seemed upset and you’ve been missing before…”

He’s just making it worse, he knows, but he hopes you can just take it as him being concerned about his business and not creepy. You study his face for a moment before sighing.

“We broke up,” you say simply, “And he keeps calling so that’s a little annoying.”

“Oh,” is all he can say.

And oh is all he can think for the rest of the day. Week, actually. And then he gets it together.

‘Together’ in a way that is perhaps concerning in its own way.

It might be too much - it is too much and wholly inappropriate. But San feels like a madman on a mission, hyping himself before the final stretch as he looks at the handful of notes and another small pile of envelopes.

The notes should be fine - they’re just generic words of encouragement, some may be a little too sweet for strangers, but not too much. The envelopes, well, they hold his heart. He must be in his right mind still if he thought to start with the notes and see how you accept them.

…And that doesn’t apply anymore weeks later when he’s stealthily slipping the first envelope into the bouquet before wrapping it for you. His heart is about to burst and you’re looking at him with concern. His hands are shaking, but at least you only noticed now. 

“Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiles. It’s easy to make it genuine. 

“I…” you hesitate and he leans closer, nodding at you to continue, “I know I never said anything, but I wanted to thank you for the notes. I mean, you probably noticed I started coming in more. They just really helped me get through the hard times.”

He did notice. He also noticed you slowly opening up, lingering, gracing him with short conversation each time.

“I’m glad,” he says and he means it. Even if nothing comes out of this, making you happy is enough.

“So I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?” you bite your lip, “If you’re okay with going slow-”

“Yes,” he interrupts before you can change your mind. He already saw you spiral into overthinking many times, he’s not gonna do it today. “Absolutely. Just, uh, could you give that back to me?”

He points to the wrapped flowers in your hands. You look at him with a suspicion. “Why?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself and make you change your mind, please?” he begs. Suddenly he can’t remember what’s written in the short letter. He only knows it’s sappy and pathetic.

“Is your number there?” you chuckle.

“Among other things,” he admits. For once he doesn’t like the way your smile grows bigger.

“Then if I like the other things I will text you,” you seem so satisfied with yourself, San is in love - and shambles, “If not, I’ll come here again and pretend I didn’t see anything. You can ask me on the date again if the note doesn’t work.”

That’s not the issue, the note isn’t asking you out, he wants to say, but you’re already turned away from him and walking out. He can’t speak, his tongue feels too heavy and his mind is blank. Slowly, he feels a smile stretching his lips against his will.

Maybe you like losers, he hopes.

[sosa2imagines]

Hiya! I have a Steve Rogers fic request! So, reader and Steve are together for about a year now. Reader is sick and not feeling particularly well. One day, reader falls with morning sickness and she takes a pregnancy test to check before hand. It comes back positive, however she panics because she knows it's not Steve's. She confesses to Steve. However, instead of breaking the relationship, he helps her and guides her through maternity, together.

Hope you have fun writing! 😊💕

Warning- Angst, fluff, unexpected pregnancy.

You wake with a heaviness in your chest, not the emotional kind, not yet. Your stomach churns violently, and the instant you lift your head from the pillow, you know what’s coming.

The bathroom tiles are cold against your knees as you throw up for the second time that morning.

Its been happening for ten days straight now.

Your fingers tremble when you reach for the sink, trying to steady yourself. You’ve told yourself it’s probably the flu, maybe some bad takeout. But deep down you know.

You grab your phone, check the calendar. One week late.

The test burns a hole in your drawer. You bought it days ago, just in case. You never thought you'd actually have to use it.

And now, you stare at the little window, eyes fixed, heartbeat pounding louder than your thoughts.

Two lines.

Positive.

You sit on the bathroom floor for a long time, unable to move. You want to scream. Cry. Run. But none of those things would change the truth you already knew before the test confirmed it.

It's not Steve’s.

Your boyfriend of nearly a year. The man who holds your hand like it's precious, who never forgets how you take your coffee, who stays up with you on your worst days and kisses your forehead like it’s sacred. The man who would have done anything for you. Who uses protection, because he does not want you to deal with anything, you both may or may not be ready for.

But this?

This is your fault.

And you have to tell him.

He's in the kitchen when you walk out. The morning sun filters through the window, casting a soft glow over his messy hair and tired smile. He turns to you, apron tied haphazardly over his sweatpants, flipping pancakes.

“Morning, sweetheart. Feeling any better?” His voice is laced with worry. Ever since the sickness started, Steve has been constantly worried about you.

You don't answer right away. You just watch him, memorizing the way he looks at you like you’re his world.

Your chest tightens. This might be the last time, so with a deep breath you decide to tell him, “I need to talk to you...” you say quietly.

He sets the spatula down, turning to face you fully. “What’s wrong?”

You hold the test in your hand, but your fingers refuse to let it go. “I’m… pregnant…”

His eyes widen, just slightly. He doesn’t speak. He waits, the way he always does, patient, calm, steady.

And it shatters you.

“It’s not yours…” you whisper. “It… it was a mistake. A stupid, selfish, one-time mistake before us. I thought it was over. I didn’t even think about it again until now. But, this happened. And I didn’t want to lie to you...and I can understand if you want to end things…I…I promise I won’t blame you…”

He says nothing for a beat. You wait for the sharp breath. The anger. The betrayal. Waiting for him to say “pack your bags and get the hell lost!”

But none of that comes.

Instead, Steve steps forward, gently takes the test from your hand, and sets it on the counter. He cups your cheek like you're made of glass.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Thank you for telling me…”

You blink, tears stinging, “Aren’t you mad?”

He smiles sadly, but full of love, “Yeah. A little. But more than that… I’m scared that you’re scared. And I’m not going to leave you to do this alone.”

“You shouldn’t have to stay.”

“I want to stay.”

He wraps his arms around you like an anchor, grounding you. Your body shakes with silent sobs, pressed against his chest.

You don’t deserve this. But he’s here. Still here.

And when he pulls away just enough to rest his hand on your stomach, his eyes glisten.

“We’ll get through this. Together.”

You never meant for it to be this complicated.

You never meant to sleep with Clark Kent again, not after he broke your heart for her. Not after all those tear-stained nights and the way your chest ached every time you saw him and Lois in a photo, smiling like they hadn’t left wreckage behind.

But one night, grief blurred the lines. One night, he showed up at your door with an apology and a broken look. One night, you let yourself believe he meant it.

And then, nothing. Silence. No follow-up. Just another goodbye, without any words.

You had no idea that night would leave you with something that would change the course of your life.

And now, Steve holds your hand with gentle strength as you whisper the truth.

“It’s… Clark’s.”

His thumb stills its rhythmic stroke on your knuckles. His jaw tightens, just slightly. But he doesn’t let go.

He never does.

“That was before us,” he says quietly, as if reminding himself too. “You didn’t cheat on me. And he left you. That’s not your fault.”

You stare down at the floor, words tangling in your throat. “I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I thought I’d never see Clark again. He made it clear that Lois was his future...”

Steve nods slowly, “You still should tell him.”

“I could try…but…” you admit, biting your lip. “he’s… blocked me. Everywhere. I guess he thought I might get in the way of their perfect life.”

There’s a flash of something in Steve’s eyes, anger, towards Superman. But it’s quickly swallowed by calm resolve.

“I’ll find him…” he says.

You blink, startled. “Steve…you don’t…”

“I don’t care if I have to fly across the damn globe. He should know. But more importantly…” he pauses, cupping your cheek, “you deserve peace.”

You nod, swallowing back tears. “What if he doesn’t want the baby?”

He holds your gaze. “Then he’s a fool. But either way, I do want the baby. And I want you.”

The tears come freely now. You fall into his arms, and for the first time since the test turned positive, you feel like maybe… just maybe… this won’t break you.

Truth to be told, Steve with the help from Tony, did contact Clark, but Clark dismissed him, telling him to do whatever he wishes to do, cause you are no longer his problem.

That was the last, Steve ever talked about him.

Then came the first ultrasound.

The examination room is quiet except for the steady hum of the machine and the soft static that preludes something life-changing.

You lie on the table, gown draped over your belly, Steve seated beside you, your fingers intertwined so tightly they’ve gone numb.

The technician smiles at you both, friendly and warm. “You two ready to see your little one?”

Steve squeezes your hand. “We’re ready.”

The gel is cold. You flinch. The wand glides across your skin, and you hold your breath. And then a sound is heard.

Rhythmic. Soft. Then louder.

Your breath catches. Steve’s hand tightens around yours.

“There’s the heartbeat,” the technician beams. “Strong and steady.”

You blink hard, trying not to cry. But Steve’s thumb brushes the tears off your cheek anyway.

The monitor displays a tiny blob, your baby. Clark’s baby. But it doesn’t feel like his right now. It feels like yours. Like Steve’s, even. Because he’s here. Because he cares. Because he’s already giving more than the biological father ever did.

The tech continues. “Looks like you’re around ten weeks. Everything’s measuring just right. Dad, want to see?”

You glance at Steve instinctively.

He leans forward, eyes glued to the screen, voice rough. “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

He doesn’t correct them.

He doesn’t say, I’m not the father.

Instead, he asks, “Can we get a picture of the heartbeat?”

The technician prints it out without question.

You don’t speak until you’re back in the car, the ultrasound photo trembling in your hands, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

Steve starts the engine but doesn’t pull away, “Because I am the one who’s here. I’m the one who’s going to help you through every kick and craving and sleepless night. And when that baby comes into the world, I’m going to be the one holding them, whispering that it’s going to be okay.”

You look at him, this man who chose to stay, who chose you, who is choosing this baby even though he doesn’t have to.

Your voice is a whisper, “You don’t have to do this...”

“I want to,” he says with a smile, “Let me love both of you.”

You cry harder than you have since that first test.

And in your heart, you already know, this child may not be Steve’s by blood, but they will be his in every way that matters.

The bump starts to show around week sixteen. It’s small at first. A soft curve beneath your sweaters. But Steve notices immediately.

He stares at it sometimes when you’re asleep, his palm hovering just above like he’s afraid to wake the baby or you. He whispers to your belly when you’re not listening, voice full of wonder and low chuckles. You once caught him doing it and he flushed tomato-red.

“She kicked when I said her name,” he murmured like it was classified intel. “I think she likes me.”

You laugh. “That’s because she does…”

Your hormones are a menace. You cry over everything. A broken shoelace. A commercial with a puppy. One time Steve came home with the wrong kind of ice cream and you wept like he’d murdered someone. He apologized for an hour and drove twenty-five minutes back to get the right one.

You called yourself insane.

He only kissed your forehead. “You’re growing a human, sweetheart. You can set the apartment on fire and I’ll still think you’re amazing.”

You reply through sniffles, “I was actually considering arson, so thank you…”

You craved pineapple, pickles, peanut butter, and pepperoni all at once. Steve doesn’t flinch. He goes to four stores to find the right brand of pickles at 11 PM on a Tuesday.

Once, you cried when he brought you a warm grilled cheese just the way you liked it, cut diagonally, not horizontally and whispered, “You remembered.”

He blushed. “Course I did, doll. That’s my job now.”

“You’re too good.”

“Nah,” he smiled. “Just madly in love with you and slightly terrified of you.”

You laughed and cried at the same time.

The baby shower was a literal war for Steve.

Tony insists on throwing you a baby shower, and Steve agrees reluctantly. You have a vision board, a color theme, and approximately seventeen pages of Pinterest inspiration.

Steve has a nervous breakdown over centerpieces.

“I don’t know what the hell a ‘woodland chic’ aesthetic is…” he panics to Natasha on the phone. “Are mushrooms cute now? Why are we decorating with moss?!”

Natasha shows up just to babysit him.

Despite the chaos, it turns out beautifully. You cry again when Steve gives a heartfelt toast about how this baby might not be his by blood, but they're his in every way that matters. He thanks everyone for accepting your baby and him with open arms.

Even Bucky’s tearing up.

He later tells Steve, “You sap.” But he claps him on the back and adds, “You’re gonna be a damn good dad.”

The night your water broke, it happens at 3:47 AM.

You jolt upright in bed, gasping, “Steve!!!”

“Mmh?” he groans, groggy and tangled in blankets.

“My water just broke...”

He sits up like he’s been shot, “WHAT?! Okay…okay! Grab the bag, wait, I grab the bag! Do we have socks? You need socks. Is it too late for socks?! Okay…okay”

You groan in pain. “Steve, if you don’t get me to the hospital right now, I swear I will light this whole damn apartment on fire and use Clark’s ashes as fuel! And stop saying OKAY!!!”

He scrambles like his life depends on it. “Socks later, fire now, got it! Okay!”

He helps you into the car, holding your hand the entire time, whispering sweet nothings, “You’re doing amazing, doll.” “You can crush my hand if you need to. I don’t even need fingers.” “You definitely don’t look like a demon right now. No, you’re glowing. Glowing with… strength.”

You glare at him mid-contraction. “I want to kill Clark.”

Steve kisses your knuckles. “I support you. Just maybe after we get the baby out?”

At the hospital, he never lets go of your hand, not once. Not when you scream. Not when you curse. Not when you cry, beg for it to be over, or threaten violence on multiple innocent bystanders.

When your baby finally arrives, red-faced, crying, tiny fists curled against their chest, Steve is the one who cuts the cord.

The nurse turns to him with a bright smile. “Congratulations, Dad.”

And again, he doesn’t correct her.

He holds your baby like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever touched. And when he finally places them into your arms, his eyes are full of unshed tears.

“You did so good, doll. Look at our little miracle.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, baby curled against your chest, and whisper, “Thank you for staying.”

He kisses your temple, voice thick. “I didn’t stay. I chose this. I chose you. And I’ll keep choosing you both, every day.”

You wait until everyone’s gathered in the hospital room.

Natasha bouncing on the balls of her feet, Pepper filming with teary eyes, Sam cracking jokes, and Bucky in the corner pretending not to care, but clearly wiping at his eyes every five seconds.

Steve stands beside you, cradling the baby, a sleepy grin tugging at his lips. Your head rests against his bicep, exhaustion still clinging to your bones, but you feel lighter than you’ve felt in months.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Pepper asks, camera zoomed in.

You exchange a glance with Steve. He nods, a silent encouragement.

You turn to everyone, voice soft but steady. “We wanted to wait until he was born to be sure. But now that he’s here, it just… fits.”

Everyone leans in.

“His name is Jamie Steven Rogers.”

The room goes still.

Bucky blinks. “I…what?”

Steve's eyes widen, completely stunned, he knew you wanted to name the child after Bucky, but adding his name that was a surprise for him.

“You named him after me?” Bucky croaks, looking at you like you just threw a brick at his heart in the best way possible.

You laugh, a little breathless. “You’ve always had my back. You’ve been my brother before I even knew I needed one. You’re going to be the best uncle. And Steve… well.” You look at the man holding your son. “He’s already the best dad.”

Bucky exhales hard and runs a hand through his hair.

“Damn it,” he mutters. “I was supposed to be the emotionally unavailable, grumpy uncle who makes inappropriate jokes and teaches the kid to swear. Now I’m crying like a Disney princess.”

You smirk. “You can still be the grumpy uncle. Just a very loved one.”

He groans but pulls you into a hug anyway. “I swear, if this baby’s first word is ‘punk’ it’s going on the birth certificate.”

Everyone laughs, the tension melting into joy.

Later that night, the room has long since quieted. Visitors have gone home. Nurses come and go softly, but it’s just you and Steve now. Jamie sleeps peacefully between the two of you, a little burrito of blankets and soft snores.

Steve brushes a finger down Jamie’s chubby cheek. “He’s perfect.”

“You are…” you say, eyes fixed on him. “You didn’t have to do this. But you chose it all. You chose us.”

He looks at you like he’s still trying to believe this is real. “I’ll never stop choosing you.”

You lean over and kiss him soft, slow, grateful. His hand cups your jaw, deepening it just enough to make your heart thrum all over again.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“For loving a baby that wasn’t yours. For making him yours. For being ours.”

He only smiles, kissing your forehead. “There was never a choice for me. You’re my whole world.”

As you fall asleep, Steve promises to protect you and his baby. Because you don’t know about the storm taking place and Steve will make sure you don’t get to know about it.

Earlier with Bucky, he had a private conversation.

Hours ago, while you were asleep and Steve had stepped out for a coffee run, Bucky cornered him just outside the nursery window.

“Hey,” Bucky said, voice lower than usual. “We’ve got a problem.”

Steve stiffened. “What kind of problem?”

“Clark.” Bucky glanced over his shoulder, then back at Steve. “I’ve seen him hanging around. Not close enough to make a scene, but… he’s lurking. Watching.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, the shadows under his eyes sharpening. “He’s not setting one foot near her. Or my baby.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

“If he even looks at them…” Steve’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl, “I’ll end him.”

“I’m in,” Bucky said without missing a beat. “We’ll make it look like an accident.”

Steve smirked, dark and knowing. “Appreciate it.”

Bucky’s tone sobered. “Just… keep her safe. Keep Jamie safe.”

Steve nodded. “With my life.”

They didn’t tell you. Not that night. Not then. Because that moment belonged to peace.

Back in the Room

Jamie stirs slightly in his bassinet. You and Steve both move at the same time, instinctively in sync, soothing him with whispered hushes and gentle touches.

You rest your head against Steve’s shoulder again, feeling his warmth, his steady breath, the beating of his heart.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” you whisper.

He kisses the top of your head. “Whatever it was, I’m glad you did it.”

The room goes quiet again.

You both fall asleep like that, your hand on Jamie’s back, Steve’s arm around you, wrapped up in a family that wasn’t planned but was meant to be.

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[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 11: Silence and Reconciliation

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: it's all too much...but that's love for ya..

Welcome to the chapter 11 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Y/N’s POV

The bus ride back from the gym to the airport was quiet—almost too quiet. I could hear the rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, the soft clinking of water bottles, and the faint whispers of my teammates as they wound down from the adrenaline rush of the game. Paige was asleep next to me, her head resting against the window, her breath steady and slow. Her hand was just inches away from mine, but I didn’t dare reach for it.

I didn’t know how to feel.

The game had been incredible—Paige had played like an absolute beast, and the team had won. But all I could think about were the comments and videos that kept popping up on my phone.

TikTok.

I hadn’t even meant to check it, but a notification had buzzed in my hand. Curious, I tapped the screen and scrolled through the videos of the game highlights. Then, there it was—the video of Paige and me leaving the airport together. The one where I was wearing her UConn warm-up jacket, and she had her Nike tech on.

The caption read: “Paige and her girl? Or just best friends?”

I clicked into the comments, and my stomach dropped.

“She’s not even her type. She deserves someone like Azzi, not her.”

“I’d rather see Paige and Azzi than this girl, sorry not sorry.”

“They shouldn't be together if she’s the one always filming her, kinda stalkerish...What’s the deal with them anyway?”

My hand trembled as I set the phone down, the screen dimming in front of me. My stomach twisted with a painful knot, my chest constricting as the weight of the words settled on me.

I glanced at Paige again, her peaceful expression making it harder to deal with my own turmoil. She didn’t deserve any of this. She didn’t deserve to be associated with me in the way those people seemed to think.

I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes, but the restlessness wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t sleep. I felt too anxious, too tight in my own skin.

Paige’s POV

I woke up a few hours later, the bus nearing Connecticut. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, glancing over at Y/N. She was still awake, eyes glued to her phone, the soft glow of the screen reflecting off her face, and her recently bought blue light glasses.

“Everything okay?” I asked quietly.

She looked up at me with a forced smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, just editing.”

I frowned, but didn’t press further. She’d always been quiet when she was upset, but I figured she’d talk to me eventually.

Y/N’s POV

I stayed quiet the rest of the ride, my mind running a mile a minute. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. That somehow, everything I had with Paige had shifted.

When we finally arrived back on campus, I didn’t feel any relief. I was physically exhausted, but emotionally drained. I spent the night in Paige’s dorm, but even there, I felt a distance between us that I couldn’t explain. She didn’t push me, and I appreciated that, but I couldn’t bring myself to reach out to her. I couldn’t pretend that things were the same when my mind was so heavy.

The next few days were worse. At practice, during games, it felt like there was an invisible wall between us. Every time Paige came near me, I stepped back. Every time she tried to touch my shoulder, or give me a quick hug after a good play, I flinched. I didn’t mean to—hell, I didn’t even want to—but the anxiety in my chest made it impossible to be close to her.

I was suffocating in my own silence, and I hated myself for it.

Paige’s POV

It had been days, and the distance between Y/N and me had only grown. She was avoiding me in the worst way. She wasn’t talking to me, wasn’t making eye contact, and every time I tried to get close, she stepped away. I felt her pulling away, and it broke my heart.

Finally, after a grueling practice the day before a home game, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Y/N, we need to talk.”

She froze, her hands gripping the strap of her camera bag. “What’s there to talk about?”

I stared at her, trying to read her. She wasn’t meeting my eyes, and the coldness in her voice stung. “This isn’t you. What’s going on? We’re not good, and I don’t know why.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, avoiding my gaze. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I pressed, stepping closer. “We’re a team, Y/N. I know something’s wrong.”

She finally looked at me, her eyes full of frustration. “You don’t get it, Paige. I’m not good enough for you. You’re this… amazing player, and everyone’s watching you, and I’m just your photographer. Just the girl who follows you around all the time. They don’t see me, they see you. They think you’re with Azzi, and that’s what should be happening. Not this. Not me. Definitely not us.”

I took a step back, the sting of her words sinking in. I never thought she saw herself like that. She wasn’t just my photographer. She was my everything.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” I said, my voice breaking. “I don’t care about the people on the internet or what they say. I care about you. I care about us.”

Her eyes softened, but she looked away. “I don’t know if I can handle the pressure, Paige. You deserve someone who fits in with your life. I’m just causing trouble.”

“Y/N,” I said, taking her hands in mine. “I don’t care what anyone says, and I sure as hell don’t care about fitting into some mold. I care about you. I’m not letting you push me away.”

Y/n’s POV

I opened my dorm room door to a phone call from my grandmother. I hadn’t heard from her in a few days, and I could tell by her tone that something was wrong.

“Paige’s been texting me all night,” my granny said in a matter-of-fact tone. “You need to talk to that girl, Y/N. You’re both so stubborn, but you need to fix this before it gets worse. I can’t have my granddaughter hurting like this.”

I felt tears well up in my eyes as I listened to her, but I couldn’t find the right words.

“She’s good for you, Y/N. Don’t let fear tear you apart. You can’t keep running from the love you both have. It’ll only break you in the end.”

I knew she was right.

Paige’s POV

I didn’t hear from Y/N for the rest of the day, but that night, after my team’s practice, I called her grandmother back.

“Paige, honey, you’re a good girl. You’ve got to be strong for Y/N. I know you two are struggling, but if you love her, you fight for her. I know she’s too proud to admit it, but she needs you.”

“I will,” I promised, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m not giving up on her. Not now, not ever.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 ,.... (more to be added)

[ladylokilaufeyson5]

I Will Always Find You

I WILL ALWAYS FIND YOU | Azriel x Fem!Illyrian!Reader 

REQUEST(S): hello! could i request and azriel fic? where reader gets badly injured and azriel saves her? thank u so much! – (anon) hi! i saw you asking for azriel requests where reader gets kidnappped? lot of angst and fluff please! 💕💕 – (anon)

SUMMARY: Five times Azriel wanted to tell Y/n he loves her, and the one time he finally did

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood and injury, unrequited love (it’s not, Az & Y/n are just stupid), swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking alcohol, kidnapping, one brief thought of sexy times, kind of angst but not really, and a bit of fluff

WORDS: 4.6K (oops)

NOTE: I am literally in love with the 5+1 trope so I hope this works for you both 🙂 Also I did not proof read so enjoy<3

Laughter filled the living room of the River House on the night of the Winter Solstice, and it flitted through the air, such a stark contrast to the pain and suffering they had all felt only two years prior. It sounded strange to Azriel — the joy and happiness of his friends and family. He hadn’t been sure that they were going to survive the war against Hybern, but he thanked the Mother every day that they did. He thanked the Mother that she had mercy, that she kept you alive.

Your laughter was the most contagious of the group, and Azriel couldn’t help but allow a small chuckle to leave his lips as you laughed at the gift Cassian had gotten you — a rubber practice sword, so that Cassian wouldn’t get as many bruises and scrapes while sparring with you. You smiled widely at Cassian and gave him a big hug, kissing him on the cheek in thanks. Azriel watched as you sat back down on the couch beside him, the grin still etched on your face.

“I’m thinking more drinks,” Cassian suggested, standing up and clapping his hands.

“Count me in,” Mor grinned, rising and rushing down the hall to the kitchen.

Cassian swore and chased after her, and Feyre and Rhys stood up, chasing the other two. Elain and Nesta left next, arms linked, and Amren sighed before following the group, leaving you and Azriel alone together.

Azriel cherished the moments he had alone with you. With only the two of you, it felt like all of your attention was on him, which was all he’d wanted for the past three hundred years. He wanted you, wanted every part of you. Wanted to hold you close at night and wake up with you in the morning, wanted to know what your bare skin felt like, what your lips tasted like. 

But he’d never told you that, for a varying amount of reasons. The first was you deserved better – you deserved someone better than him, someone worthy of your love. You deserved someone who could offer you the love and affection you were entitled to, someone who you would want love from. Because why would you want to be loved by Azriel? He was practically invisible – as the silent shadowsinger, people rarely paid attention to him; some barely even knew he was present.

But not you. You always seemed to know when he was around – your gaze would find him in a crowded room, and you always asked for his opinion on things. But just because you cared what he was thinking, it didn’t mean that his love was requited. 

“You’re not getting another drink?” you asked, taking a sip of your own.

Azriel simply shrugged. “I’m sure they’ll bring the whole bottle. Or maybe more.”

You laughed lightly, the sound filling Azriel with no small amount of warmth. He loved that he was the one who coerced that sound out of your lips, that he was the one who made your face brighter. He wanted to tell you that, but… how could he?

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and you rested your head on his shoulder. Azriel’s mind screamed at him. Tell her that you love her! Tell her now, tell her now, tell her now! But it was just a friendly gesture – he was sure of it.

Maybe I could work up the courage…

But it didn’t matter, because laughter rang down the hall, and then Cassian was running through the living room with a bottle in hand, the others following close behind. The moment passed and you laughed at your friends’ antics, leaving Azriel to sigh internally. He wasn’t sure whether it was from disappointment or relief.

~ * ~

It was cold. That was the first thing Azriel registered as he looked around the nightmare. It was a stark contrast to the flames and burning of his own. The snow glistened in the moonlight, the only solace in the darkness of the freezing forest. 

The dream faded in and out, as if there was a door opening and closing between himself and the dreamscape. But he felt cold as he curled up in the snow, his wings bleeding and shredded, his wrist sprained and thigh screaming in pain. As he raised his head, he glimpsed a flash of light reflecting off of a blade. Illyrian warriors came into view, and with a jolt, Azriel realised where he was. 

Or rather, where you were. Because this nightmare… this nightmare was yours. Azriel remembered these males, remembered how he cut them down for hunting a female Illyrian for sport. He didn’t know you then — it was the first time he’d seen you. Bloody and shaking, your wings torn and broken, bone jutting out of your thigh… it was instinct that had him killing the males within seconds. Instinct that caused the roar in his head, instinct that made him need to protect you. Instinct that made him go over to you and pick you up gently, cradling you close to his body.

But in your dream, Azriel didn’t arrive. The males came closer and closer, laughing and taunting you, until they were close enough to grab your wing and snap–

Azriel awoke with a fight thrumming through his veins, the need to hurt and maim and kill screaming at him — but he was alone in his room in the House of Wind. His thundering heart slowed as he took deep breaths…

A muffled sob had his head turning sharply to the door. It was barely audible, but…

There it was again. A frantic sob, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it. He was out of bed in an instant, walking out of his room and into the hallway beyond. There was another sob from your room, and a cry of anguish. Azriel knocked, but there was no response. There was another cry of pain, and consequences be damned, Azriel opened the door.

You were twisting and turning, your scarred wings tense and tear tracks on your cheeks. You were still asleep, still stuck in that dreamscape… Azriel was at your side in a second, hesitating for only a moment before gently grabbing your shoulder.

“Y/n?” he murmured.

Another whimper. He shook your shoulder with a bit more force and you shook out of his grasp. He grabbed you again, cupping your face with one hand.

“Y/n, it’s just a dream,” he assured. 

But you still did not wake up. Azriel usually wasn’t one to panic, but seeing you in this state… It made him frantic. So he mustered as much authority as he could, and ordered, “Y/n, wake up!”

Your eyes opened and you shot out of your bed, flipping him and landing on top, a dagger pressed against his throat. Had he not been worried about you, you would be on the floor, knife discarded across the room. But he stayed still as your wings flared behind you, and as your knee pressed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, watching you carefully. “It was a dream, Y/n.”

As if saying your name had snapped you out of a trance, you stumbled back, removing the weapon from his throat and trembling slightly. Azriel rose from the bed, surveying you carefully. Your hand still clutched your dagger, the knuckles of your hands bone white.

“I – I’m sorry,” you whispered, horror in your eyes as you glimpsed the trickle of blood running down his throat. He hadn’t even realised you’d drawn blood, and he resisted the urge to wipe it away.

“It’s okay,” he assured.

You shook your head, pressing your palms into your eyes, your breathing coming in short bursts. Once again, it was instinct that had him walking over to you and bringing you into his embrace. You readily accepted it, your arms wrapping around his middle as sobs racked through your entire body. Azriel whispered assurances into your hair, pressing feather-light kisses there as he consoled you. 

He wanted to chase away every nightmare, to hold you close and tell you how much he loved you — by the Cauldron, the words were on the tip of his tongue… but you had started to pull away. When you pulled away, he felt the loss of your warmth like a slap to the face. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trembling. The words died on his tongue – you didn’t need a love confession right now.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, and then mentally hit himself. Of course you weren’t okay – you’d just re-lived one of the most traumatising moments of your life. The fact that he’d seen your dream… he didn’t let himself think about what that meant. Perhaps his shadows had been too curious.

“I will be,” you mumbled. You hesitated, and then added, “Thank you, for waking me up.”

Azriel understood the dismissal in your tone and dipped his head in a nod before heading to the door. Your breathing hitched as he walked away, and he paused in the doorway, his mind and heart and soul screaming at him to tell you – to tell you how he wanted to hold you through the night, how he wanted to learn every inch of you, to know all of your secrets and darkest desires…

But would you want to know his? Would you want him if you knew every despicable thing he’d done, every way he’d torn people apart? He doubted it, so he left the room, just as you wanted him to.

~ * ~

The fire crackled in Azriel’s office as he tapped his pen against his desk. He hated writing reports – it was his least favourite part of his job by far. The only thing that made it bearable was your presence. You sat in one of the plush armchairs, legs draped over the armrest and a book in your hand. 

Azriel found himself getting distracted by you, as he usually did. He just knew he could stare at you for hours on end, even if you were doing something as simple as reading. He would watch you finish the book and then start another, if only to watch the way your lips curved up as you read something humorous, or the way your eyes sparkled when the love interest finally confessed their love for the main character.

Azriel wished he could build up the courage to confess his love to you. It had only been last night that he had seen into your nightmare, and though his soul screamed a single word over and over in his mind, he chalked it up to his shadows being more invasive than they should have.

Because the word his soul cried out, the word that could change everything… it couldn’t be true. In fact, it was too good to be true. Because there was no way the Mother had promised him to you, and you him. Because Illyrian males made you jumpy and uncomfortable, always putting you on edge. How could you love a male of the race that had hunted you down for sport, intending on violating and hurting you in unforgivable ways?

Even so, you weren’t jumpy around him. Granted, he had saved you, had offered you a home in Velaris, had trained you so that you could defend yourself against even the most fearsome of warriors, but…

But nothing, he realised. You didn’t fear him, didn’t run away when you could. You’d had centuries to leave if you wanted to, but you had chosen to stay. Stay with him. He looked up at your lounging form, watching as you turned a page. You seemed at peace here with him, as if you’d never needed to look further.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He wanted to say the words aloud, wanted to say them between breathless kisses, wanted to say them as you writhed beneath him, pleasure filling every pore of both your bodies.

“Azriel.”

Azriel was brought back to reality as you spoke his name, and he realised he’d been staring at you. He refused to blush, refused to let you see how much you affected him – but you weren’t looking at him. Your book was closed, and you were looking at the ground, almost shamefully. He cocked his head in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired.

You still refused to look at him, instead fiddling with a loose thread on the armchair. You stood up and began to pace, wringing your fingers. It took a few moments, but you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “For last night.”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” he murmured.

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes. “Azriel, I hurt you–”

Azriel was walking to you in an instant, standing by your side. He took your hand in his and squeezed lightly, in an attempt to offer you assurance. “Y/n, it was a natural reaction. I’m sure I would have done the same thing, had the roles been reversed.”

You looked up at him with silver lining your eyes, and before he could overthink it, he pulled you into his arms. You fit perfectly in his arms, as if the two of you had been carved to hold each other. You melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him as if he was a lifeline. The way you fit just had the words at the tip of his tongue; I love you… But you didn’t need that right now. You needed comfort — you needed a friend. And so Azriel held you, withholding the words that were begging to be spoken.

~ * ~

Starfall had not yet begun, but the celebrations had. Azriel stood by the balcony, overlooking the sea of people who awaited Starfall. Azriel loved Starfall; he loved that everyone came together for it, no matter how far or long they had to travel. It was another one of the few nights that the inner circle could spend time together, letting loose and celebrating.

Not that Azriel tended to let loose. Sure, he’d have a few drinks, but he never got as wild as Cassian or Mor. They drank enough for him, and then some. 

“Hey.”

Azriel turned at the sound of your voice, opening his mouth to offer his own greeting — but nothing came out as he took in the image of you. You wore a cream coloured dress that sparkled like the stars in the sky, hugging your curves and showing off your gorgeous figure. The dress pooled at your feet, and Azriel couldn’t help but stare. Words couldn’t describe how you looked — words such as ethereal, divine, and enchanting came close, but Azriel doubted that there was a single word that could capture the extent of your beauty.

“I — hi,” Azriel got out, quickly averting his gaze, lest he never look away from you again.

You walked up beside him and rested against the railing with him. Azriel liked that you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence — he liked that you could sit with him without speaking, just taking in each other’s company.

There was just so much about you that Azriel loved, and he didn’t want to keep it a secret. He wanted to tell you, wanted you to know. Azriel hid so many parts of his life from everyone, but he wanted to share it with you, share it all with you. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, only to see you already looking at him.

I love you, I love you, I love you! Just say it, you idiot!

“Y/n,” Azriel began, turning his body to face yours.

You responded instantly, your actions mirroring his, so that the two of you were facing each other. This close to you, the sounds of the party disappeared, turning into a muted lull. All he could see, hear, or think about was you.

“Y/n, I’m–”

The sounds of cheers erupted and Azriel turned his head, spying the first star hurtling across the sky, turning and twisting in its glory. It shone bright as it crossed the vast expanse of the night sky, and hundreds more followed. Azriel turned back to you, only to find you captivated by the stars. He smiled slightly at the sight, at the pure joy in your eyes.

Maybe there would never be a good time to tell you. Maybe he wasn’t supposed to tell you. So Azriel took a deep breath, and let it go.

~ * ~

“Oh, come on, Y/n…”

Azriel watched as you sighed through your nose and shook your head. “I have to be up early tomorrow, Mor. You know I’d go if that wasn’t the case.”

Mor looked to Azriel hopefully. “Az?”

Azriel shook his head, and Mor rolled her eyes. “At least you’ve got everyone else.”

Mor sighed dramatically and threw her arms around you, squeezing tight. After a moment she let go, linking her arms with Cassian and Feyre, dragging them to Rita’s for another night of drinking, dancing, and revelling. 

Azriel watched as you sighed after them wistfully, no doubt wanting to lose yourself in the music and rhythm of the pleasure hall. But it was true – you had a mission the very next day, and you had to be gone by dawn.

“You can go with them, you know,” you say, looking at Azriel.

He turned to face you, cocking his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not going because I can’t,” you said, causing him to shake his head, but you persisted, “You never go when I can’t. You always walk me home, or stay with me.”

Azriel gulped slightly, wondering if this was it. If this was the night he would finally tell you — tell you that he never went out if you weren’t going because he didn’t want to be parted from you. If this was the night he was to tell you that he actually enjoyed it when you couldn’t go out, because it meant that the two of you could spend more time together.

“I just don’t like going out all that much,” Azriel replied, adding a slight shrug. “Besides, it’s… nicer with just you.”

Azriel refused to blush, refused to let you know how nervous just saying those simple words made him. But you looked up at him with a small smile, not knowing at all what was going on through his mind.

“Yeah, I like being with just you, too,” you admitted, looking up at him with bright eyes.

Once again, Azriel’s heart was screaming at him, screaming to tell you how much he loved you, how much he craved you and needed you, but… he couldn’t. Because although his heart was screaming at him that it must be love, that you must be his mate, his head told him that it wasn’t true. He didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and strong as you.

So he just smiled in response, and walked you home.

~ * ~

Azriel paced around his office, spinning Truth Teller in his hands. You hadn’t come back from your mission yet, and Azriel was… well, he was panicking. He knew you’d be able to take care of yourself, but what if you’d been hurt? What if you were in the middle of nowhere, bleeding out? Thoughts and scenarios played out in Azriel’s mind, and he knew he was overthinking, knew that there had probably been some sort of hold up…

But what if it wasn’t? Azriel had no idea what to do, no idea how to find you and help you if you were dying somewhere. How would he even know if you were?

The door to his office opened to reveal Rhys. Azriel searched his High Lord’s face, praying to the Mother that you had returned safely, but Rhys’s eyes held a hint of despair.

“She’s not back?” Azriel inquired, to which Rhys shook his head.

“Can you find her?” Rhys asked. 

Azriel nodded, and winnowed to the area where your mission was supposed to occur, but he could not find a single trace of you. He was unsure if you were hiding from him, or if you were simply not there. His shadows scoured the entire place, but nothing.

Azriel took a deep breath to calm his erratically beating heart. He just needed to find you, to ensure that you were safe. He peered into himself, into his heart and soul, and felt for the bond. Even if he still wouldn’t admit it fully to himself, he knew the two of you shared a connection, a connection that transcended every other relationship Azriel shared. The bond was almost like a string of pure light, and Azriel tugged on it. He tugged softly at first, testing the waters, before pulling it blindly and sharply. After a moment, he felt a pull in return, albeit smaller and weaker than his own. But he knew where he had to go, and he allowed his shadows to winnow him to you.

He arrived and his senses were immediately filled with the scent of blood, the copperry tang causing his nose to wrinkle. He stood outside a cave in the Illyrian Mountains, a cave not too far from where he first met you on that night three-hundred and forty-seven years ago. And suddenly, Azriel knew what had happened. He smelled the tang of pain and fear in the air — your pain and fear.

With his Siphons glowing and a rage that ran deeper than the pits of Hell, Azriel entered the cave with his blades drawn. The Illyrian male beside the entrance to the cave didn’t even have time to draw his weapon before his head was tumbling from his shoulders. The other males turned at the sound of Azriel’s blade slicing through flesh, tendon, and bone, and as one, the colour drained from their faces. With his shadows swirling behind him like a sea of darkness, blood splattered across his face and chest, and eyes full of a glittering, icy rage, Azriel knew he looked like Death incarnate.

The males barely had a chance to scream before he was upon them, slicing and stabbing. Azriel only wanted to incapacitate them, wanted to take his time peeling them apart for what they had done to you, but the killing rage took over, and before he knew it, five males lay dead at his feet.

A small sob brought him back to his senses, and his head jerked up to where you were chained to the wall, bloodied and broken. He took a step forward before pausing, unsure of how to proceed. Azriel swallowed and lowered his wings in an attempt to make him appear less threatening.

“Y/n?” he tried, stepping closer.

“Azriel,” you got out.

He heard the hope in your voice and immediately stepped closer, his eyes on the chains that trapped you. He touched it and his shadows recoiled — the chains had been imbued with some sort of spell that suppressed magic. It only took his shadows a few seconds to find the keys, and he freed you from the grasp of the spelled metal.

With nothing to hold you up, you collapsed into Azriel’s arms. After a quick lookover, he judged your injuries much worse than he’d feared, and panic started to creep in.

“Hey, hey,” Azriel murmured. “You’ll be okay.”

He slipped an arm under your legs and behind your back, picking you up and holding you close to him. He could feel your heart beating faintly, as if it was his own. Your eyes had fluttered closed, and he held you tight and winnowed back to Velaris, right into Madja’s office. The older healer jumped slightly, a pen nearly falling from her fingers, but she quickly jumped into action.

“Lay her down here, Shadowsinger,” Madja commanded, gesturing to a cot.

Azriel did so, although he never physically parted with you. His hand gripped your own, and Madja knelt down, her hands glowing as she held them over your body, healing broken bones and the other various injuries you had sustained. A cup of a lavender potion was held above your mouth.

“Drink, Y/n,” Azriel ordered.

As if you would never dream of disobeying him, you did as he asked, despite your half-conscious state. Your eyes fluttered closed again.

“Talk to her,” Madja demanded as she worked. “She’s fading in and out. You need to keep her here.”

“Please, Y/n,” Azriel begged. His icy demeanour was gone, and all one could see was the warmth and love he harboured for you. “Please, Y/n. I… I need you here, darling. Don’t leave me…” Azriel took a deep breath. “I love you, Y/n, and if you stay, if you survive, I swear I’ll tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you for centuries, but… it never felt like the right time. Please, Y/n…”

“Azriel,” you muttered, your hand squeezing his weakly.

“Yes, Y/n, my love,” Azriel murmured, squeezing back. “Just stay with me.”

Azriel reached inwards again, reached into his heart and soul, and tugged on the string that bound the two of you. You jerked slightly at the sensation, your eyes fluttering open. Despite how exhausted you were, despite the pain and injuries wearing you down, your eyes found Azriel’s. He saw the word in your eyes, saw the word he’d been denying to himself over and over again.

As Madja healed you, as your injuries stitched themselves back together with her magic, your eyes became clearer, more alert. They never left Azriel, and his never left you. Neither of you spoke — there were no words that could be said in that moment. When Madja finally finished, she ducked out of the room, sensing the tension between you two.

“I survived,” you said finally, your eyes searching his.

Azriel let out a small huff of laughter. “I suppose you did.” He took a deep breath. “Y/n, I love you. I love your smile, I love your determination, I love your laugh… I love everything about you. I have loved you for centuries, and I will love you for the centuries to come, if you let me.”

Silver lined your eyes as you smiled up at him. “You’ve loved me for centuries?”

Azriel nodded, “From the moment I met you.”

You took in a shuddering breath, emotions overwhelming you. Azriel felt something in his chest, felt a small tug, and he looked at you in surprise as he felt the bond. You stared at him, almost in surprise.

“This is how you found me,” you whispered.

Azriel nodded. “I will always find you.”

He couldn’t form words to describe it, anyway — had no idea how he knew it would work. There was just a feeling that he had, a need to keep you safe, just like he had when he had first found you in the snowy forest, broken and bleeding. He now knew it was the bond that had sent him over the edge, the bond that had his blood boiling and rage and death running through his veins. 

“I’ve loved you for so long, Az,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face lightly.

Azriel leaned into the touch, relishing in the contact between your bodies. He let out a shaky breath, knowing that this was it. This was the moment he had waited centuries for, the moment that he had dreamt of for so long.

“You’re my mate,” you whispered.

“And you’re mate,” Azriel echoed.

You smiled slightly, your thumb brushing lightly over his cheek. Azriel’s hand reached up and cupped yours, and the warmth in your eyes nearly made him melt.

“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel murmured.

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, Azriel. And I will always find you, too.”

azriel taglist: @ruleroftides @officiallyjaehyuns (let me know if you'd like to be added to my azriel tag list!)

[maximoffwitch]

omg the spotify wrapped game sounds fun! how about emily prentiss x reader with #56 💕

The Bottom

pairing: emily prentiss x reader

warnings: depression, bad mental health

summary: you feel like you're sinking to the bottom, but emily's there to pull you back up

word count: 1.2k

a/n: this one's a lil bit ouch but hopefully it's hurt/COMFORT. i need emily prentiss to give me a hug on my bad mental health days. (not proofread as usual....)

#56 on my wrapped was the bottom by gracie abrams

You stared at the text message lighting up your phone, the guilt settling in your gut. When you hadn’t responded to her good morning text, your girlfriend sent you multiple follow up messages, checking up on you. Especially in your line of work, Emily got quite nervous when you didn’t respond.

You knew you were being unreasonable, and even a bad girlfriend, but you just couldn’t put the words to your feelings. You were having a bad day, all your thoughts turning on you and clouding your mind. From the moment you woke up, you knew it was gonna be a rough day—an ache in your chest and a heaviness in your mind. Calling Hotch, you succinctly told him you weren’t feeling well, that you’d come in only if there was something urgent. Being the profiler he was, he could detect there was something off with you, even through the phone, and told you to get some rest and that he’d inform the team. When Emily heard this, her worry only continued to grow. 

When your phone started to vibrate in your hand, you saw that Emily was now calling you. As your thumb hovered over the green accept button, you bit your lip, your indecisiveness making the decision for you, as the call went to voicemail. Sighing, you cursed yourself. Emily didn’t deserve this.

You got up from your spot on the couch, threw your purse over your shoulder, and got in your car to drive over to Emily’s apartment, where you knew she’d be, likely pacing a hole in her carpet as she ranted to Sergio.

When you arrived at her front door, you took a deep breath before lightly knocking on her door. 

“One sec!” You could hear her movements, her feet padding towards you. As she swung open the door, your breath hitched. No matter how long you’d been dating her, Emily would always take your breath away. She was wearing a plain black hoodie and an old pair of Yale sweatpants, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and yet she looked effortlessly flawless. Somehow, that made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Hi,” she greeted, a small smile ghosting her lips as relief washed over her face.

“Hi,” you echoed, mirroring her smile, albeit sheepishly. Clenching your fists by your side, you tried to ground yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” Emily nodded after a brief pause, a look of understanding written in her eyes. “You wanna come in?”

“If you want.”

“I do,” she responded patiently, knowing all too well this game of back and forth you liked to play.

“Okay,” you agreed, unclenching your fists. “I’d like that.”

Emily smiled again, angling her body slightly so you could move past her. As you sat down on the sofa, Emily followed close behind, taking a seat beside you, leaving a little room between you, giving you the space you needed. It was quiet for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

“I don’t know how to do this,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know how to… not be this way."

Emily turned her body more toward you, her expression softening, the concern in her eyes unmistakable. She didn’t speak right away, though. She let the silence sit between you both, giving you room, just enough room to let whatever was going to come out, come out. And when you looked up at her, she wasn’t judging. She was waiting, in a way that made you feel like you weren’t burdening her at all.

You sucked in a breath, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I feel like I’m drowning. And no matter what, I just keep sinking to the bottom.”

Emily didn’t say anything. She just reached over, her fingers just barely brushing over yours. The small comforting gesture made you feel lighter, like it was an acknowledgement of this weight you’d been carrying.

You looked down at her hand atop yours and fought the urge to slip out of her grasp. "You could do better," you whispered, voicing the intrusive thoughts that had been taking over your mind. “You should walk out. It’s now or never.”

Emily’s expression shifted, her brows knitting together in confusion, but also concern. You couldn’t meet her gaze, too afraid to see the judgement you were sure would be there. The last thing you wanted was to be a burden for her to carry, to drag her down with you.

But before you could get lost in your thoughts again, Emily’s voice brought you back.

“Is that what you think? That I should walk away?” She asked, her tone even, no hint of anger, just a quiet understanding.

You swallowed, your chest tight. “You don’t deserve this.” Deserve me. “It's hard to ignore all of my problems. I have a lot of baggage, and you..” You stopped, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your own self-doubt crush you. “You should walk out while you can.” Before I drag you down.

Emily squeezed your hand, firmly but calmly, grounding you. She didn’t try to move towards you, but the simple touch was enough to let you know that she was here, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t say that,” she said quietly, her voice steady, but you could detect it was right on the edge. “You’re not a burden to me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You met her gaze, her words slicing through the fog in your thoughts. Emily could see the hesitancy and doubt in your eyes, and her expression softened. 

“(Y/N), I’m not going anywhere.” She scooted closer to you, your hand still in hers. “You don’t have to do this alone either. I know it feels like you’re at the bottom, but there’s a way out. I know there is.”

You wanted to argue, to tell her that it wasn’t that simple, that you couldn’t just will yourself out of whatever this was. But her words settled around you, offering a small comfort you had been craving–not an escape from the ache, but a promise that you didn’t have to carry it alone.

“You said it’s now or never,” Emily continued. “And I’m here now, and I’m not leaving. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Her words were simple, but they managed to break that last resolve you were holding to own. Before you could stop the tears from pooling, the dam broke and you flung yourself at your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her and burying your face into her neck. 

Emily immediately took you in her arms, and you leant into her touch, a feeling you didn’t even know you were missing. 

“I’m so used to doing this on my own,” you admitted, mumbling into her skin. “I don’t know anything else.”

“I know,” Emily said, her grip on you tightening. And she did know. For the longest time, she too had been adrift, drowning to the bottom every now and then, but then she’d found you, and she loved you. You had become her anchor, and now, she hoped she could be that for you. “I’ll be right beside you. Now and forever.”

Closing your eyes, you let her flood your senses — her words, her smell, her touch, enveloping you completely. You didn’t know what tomorrow held, or even the next day, but you knew Emily would be next to you. And somehow, that was enough.

[hibiscuswrites]

Not sure if you allow this but I love your Crybaby series on your other blog and was wondering if you could do a Ghost and Price HC for how they react to crybaby!reader trying to make them sleep in the guest room because she's mad at them for missing another date

**As an overly sensitive cry baby Pisces I love doing these so it's absolutely allowed 💕 Also be gentle I've only written for them twice now 🥺**

He's not happy

He already feels like shit

Seeing the puffiness of your eyes when he walks through the door 4 hours late and finds you sitting on the couch watching TV all by yourself

He'll sigh and come up to you, reaching down to grab your chin

And feel a pang when you shift your face just out of his reach

"Don't touch me, please."

The raspiness of your voice that comes with a long cry plus those words hurt just the same as any blade or bullet he's taken

He'll stand there silently for a beat, trying to figure out what to do next

Because all he wants is to gather you into his arms and apologize

But not touching you?

It's cruel and unusual punishment, that he unfortunately deserves

He'll keep his hands to himself per your request, but that doesn't mean that they don't itch at his sides as he keeps them balled into fists to refrain from ignoring your wishes

He'll apologize, telling you that he's sorry

That he tried so hard to get home on time

That Price even tried to speed things up

But that time got away from him

And he'll make it up to you

But you've grown tired of what feels like another empty promise

And with a sniffle you wipe away another tear, getting up from the couch and making your way to the bedroom

"I'm going to bed."

He'd be hot on your heels, ready to get undressed and shower quickly to then hop in beside you and cuddle you close once you fall asleep

But your hand on his chest stops him

"Alone. I set the guest room up for you already."

His brain would short-circuit

Alone??

Half of him would want to give you the privacy you're asking for

But the other half says no chance in hell is he letting you sleep alone so you can cry yourself to sleep over him

"Come on, love. Don't be like that. I'll stay on my side, yeah? Won't even know I'm there."

And against his better judgment, he'd reach out and place his hand on your side, thumb rubbing soothing circles

He'd see your resolve crumbling and wiggle his way in, both hands on you now as he tugs you into him

"Let me put you to bed. Show ya how sorry I am."

He'd wince as he walked in the front door to find everything off

TV, lights, everything

You'd even turned off the little light above the stove that you usually left on for him to get around without tripping

Not even that was on

And he knew he was in for it

You'd planned this date out for weeks

Even sent him a selfie once you were all done getting ready

And he'd never even gotten the chance to see it until he got in the car, hours after the fact

He knew he would have to do some serious groveling once he got in bed with you, and he was fine with that

Nothing his mouth couldn't fix

So his surprise was endless when he grabbed the door handle to the bedroom and found it locked

"Sweetheart?"

Your lack of a response would make him knock gently as he rested his forehead against the door

Surely you locked it because you were afraid to be home alone with an unlocked door

So your sharp voice coming through the door would startle him

"Go away. You can sleep in the guest room since you don't like to spend time with me."

He'd stare at the door for a handful of seconds before chuckling, positive that you were only being a brat

"Come on, my love. Enough of this now. Open up so we can talk."

And he'd genuinely expect you too

Never once had you ever asked him to sleep in the guest room

But apparently, he had missed one date too many

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Leave me alone and let me sleep."

He'd jiggle the doorknob a few times and then it'd be silence

And you'd figure he finally went to lie down in the spare room

Only for the knob to jiggle again, the sound of metal scrapping, and then the door to open, some gadget in his hand as he stepped into the room

A sheepish grin on his lips

"Not sleepin' anywhere other than right next to my baby."

General taglist

 @jigsawlover10  @titty-teetee @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera @glimmerglittergirl @hatterripper31 @lilac-tea-time @krysiewithak @witchygagirl

[juanarc-thethird]

After Pyrrha along with Blake and Yang save Jaune from Glynda... do they ask for a reward from him? One that will make all three of them very happy.

In Glynda's office, said owner of the place is found knocked out on the floor. While three girls are standing thinking what to do.

Yang: What if we leave her lying on her couch? Maybe she thinks it was all a dream?

Blake: I don't think that will work, but it's better than nothing.

Pyrrha: So it's decided, we'll leave her confined to her couch and hope she doesn't scold us later.

The three girls nod

Jaune: *Behind the desk* Can I come out now?

Pyrrha: *Smiles* Of course, it's safe now.

Jaune: *Stands up* Wow, that was close. Well, if you'll excuse me, the gym is calling me.

He begins to walk towards the exit until he is stopped by the collar of his shirt grabbed by Yang.

Yang: Where do you think you're going lover boy?

Jaune: To the gym?

Yang: Oh no, we deserve a reward for saving you.

Jaune: My thanks are not enough?

Blake: What "thank you"? You never gave them to us. Also, that's not enough.

She says while looking at him with her predatory gaze.

Jaune: *Nervous* Like a massage?

Pyrrha: Oh you're going to massage something, that's for sure.

She says between a somewhat dangerous smile.

Jaune: Is it something family friendly?

They don't respond and just smile.

Jaune: Oh boy...

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

Back to Jaune's room

*PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!*

Yang: *Naked, supporting herself on the desk* Oh fucK!~💕 Yes! Destroy that pussy! God!~💕 Go you're going to split in two!!

Jaune slides his fingers through her hair and pulls them towards him.

Yang: Oh FUck YeS!!!~💕 Pull my hair!!💕

Pyrrha: I thought that she doesn't like her hair being touched, much less pulled.

Blake: Yeah, but Jaune is the exception.

Jaune: *Grabbing her hips with his free hand* Oh fuck!

Yang: What's the matter big boy? To much pussy to handle?~💕

Jaune: I-I'm about to cum!

Yang: *giggles* Do it! Cum for me! I want to feel your hot cum inside me!

Jaune: Oh Fuck!~💕

He shoots his hips into Yang, thrusting his member deep inside her.

Yang: OH FUCK!!~~~💕 I'M CUMMING!!!💕💕💕

Jaune's balls can be seen moving with each load of cum. Yang's legs shake from the intensity of her orgasm. If it weren't for Jaune still holding her firmly in his hands, she would have already fallen to the floor.

Yang: *Look up to see his face* I wove you~💕

Jaune: *Kiss her deeply*

Blake: Ok, now is my turn~💕

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

Blake is on the bed on all fours, her hips in the air while her chest touches the ground.

Blake: Come on big guy, fuck me like the bitch I AM!!!!💕

Jaune, without thinking twice, shoved his cock into Blake's ass. All the way until he could touch her ass with his pelvis.

Blake: Oh, my God!~💕 You're raping my ass!~💕 Master is raping my ass!!!~💕

Yang: Oh boy, she got into one of her own role plays.

*PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!*

Jaune continues to fuck her deep, grabbing each cheek of her ass and spreading her open. She could feel his heavy balls hitting her pussy with every thrust.

Blake: Please Master, have mercy on me!~💕 You are destroying my ass!!💕

Jaune: Shut up! Your ass is mine!

*SMACK!* He spanks her.

Blake: UGH!~💕 Forgive me Master! Please cum inside me as my apology!💕

Jaune: I don't need your permission!! FUck!~

Jaune throws his body at her, impaling her deeply with his big cock. Shooting his cum, filling her whole.

Blake: Yes master!💕 Pump all your semen inside me!💕 I can feel my belly getting full!!~~~💕💕

She screams as she squirts hard, leaving everything soaked beneath her.

Pyrrha: My turn~💕

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

Jaune has Pyrrha in Mating press position on the floor mat. Her legs are resting on top of his arms in the air, while her pussy is ravaged by his huge cock.

*PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!PLAT!*

Pyrrha: YES! FUCK ME!!💕 I'M YOUR FUCKING FUCK TOY!!💕

Blake: I knew she was a screamer, but this is too much.

Yang: But it's hot~

Jaune uses all his strength and weight to fuck her hard and dirty. Years of training with her did bear fruit, and Pyrrha is indeed grateful for his hard work.

Pyrrha: I WANNA BE YOUR SEXDOLL FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!!💕 PLEASE USE ME WHENEVER YOU WANT!!💕💕 MIY BODY IS YOURS!!!

Jaune: Pyrrha, be quiet, you're being too loud!

Pyrrha: WELL MAKE ME! KISS ME AND SHUT ME -MMM!!💕💕💕

He kisses her with passion and increases the intensity of his hips. Pyrrha can't think straight anymore, she can only think about his cock. Her mind is a mess, she can only moan and kiss Jaune.

Blake: Oh, Jaune is already about to cum.

Yang: How do you know?

Blake: He clenches his ass when he cums.

Jaune: *does exactly that* Mnmn!~💕

Pyrrha: MMHHH!!~💕

Blake: See

Yang: Wow

Jaune's balls throb with every load of cum. Little by little you can see how the semen begins to come out of Pyrrha. Leaving small puddle of semen under her.

Blake: He is already at his limit.

Yang: Do we let him rest?

The two girls look at each other

Blake/Yang: Nah~

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

Jaune is lying on his bed while the three girls share his meat between their mouths.

Jaune: *Begging* Girls please, I can't take it anymore. I'm dry.

Pyrrha: *Slurp!* Nop~💕

Blake: *Lick* Never~💕

Yang: *Kiss* You wish~💕

[astronautmike-dexter]

✨AUTHOR SHOUTOUT ✨

I feel like the Dragon Ball fandom does a great job of uplifting artists, but sometimes writers can fall a bit by the wayside. So I wanted to spotlight one of my favourite authors: Mazen / @saiyanmazen

Not only is Mazen a brilliant author, but it's a patron saint of Vegebul! Her support has helped others thrive alongside her, giving them confidence in their stories and bringing forth the kind of fandom etiquette that every artist deserves (i.e.: reblogging art, commenting on fics).

Now let's move onto the fics! Hot fucking damn, Mazen is a prolific genius. Her capabilities stretch far and wide, spanning across all genres.

You want sexy, delicious pwp? Take a look at these fics:

Flattery will get you everywhere

Scandalous

Lift the Doubt

Needles and Pins

The Kiss

How about some comedy? Try these!

Live and Let Die

How to Become a Super Saiyan

What about angst? Mazen has got you covered.

Everything You Ever...

Rest

In Another Time Under the Same Sky

After some multi-chapter/long fics to rock your world? Here you go!

How Much You Matter

Paparazzo

Opportunities

On The Cusp

And you know what's crazy?

This is just a starter pack. She has so many more fics to sink your teeth into.

So please, go read some wonderful fics by our Vegebul queen @saiyanmazen! And most importantly, leave a comment to let her know just how much you enjoy her work! 💕

[leejenowrld]

Heyy girlie!🥰

Remember the fantasy boy draft, of course I know that Y/n won that draft considering the crazy night she spent with Jeno. But I'm curious to know what went down that night. We got a glimpse but can you give me a bit more??

What dirty stuff went down and how did the boys react to their partners? Also who had the freakiest night after y/ns and how would you rank the girls activities for that night?

Love ya!!💗

-H💕

i answered it mostly here H 🫶 but you gave me some more in depth questions so !!!

you might see some different things for jeno & y/n that happened in the fic and you guys know my fave justification for this... you didn't see everything that happened that night :)) (also it's for the content)

you (y/n):

sat on jeno’s lap in the kitchen for half the night, arms looped around his neck, whispering things you knew would make him hard

let him finger you under your skirt with everyone still in the room, while you kept talking to karina like nothing was happening

dragged him upstairs mid-convo and didn’t even make it to the bed — he fucked you against the door, hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet

rode him on the floor after, messy and fast, biting his neck until he begged to come

made him eat you out after round three, pulling his hair and saying, “this is the only reason you’re still here.”

left your scratch marks all over his back and then walked back into the party like nothing happened

karina:

flirted with every guy like she was shopping, but couldn’t stop glancing at jaemin every few minutes

got picked with him and tried everything — straddled his lap, kissed down his neck, pressed her body against him, whispered “you know every guy in this room wants me. why don’t you?”

kissed him hard, hands under his shirt, but he pulled back — told her she was beautiful, but deserved better than being just a fuck

tried to laugh it off but ended up curled beside him all night, sharing slow touches and secrets in the dark

fell asleep with his hand around her wrist, their knees brushing, the tension thick enough to cut through

areum:

walked past every boy like she couldn’t be bothered — until mark moved

didn’t even wait for her name to be picked, just took his hand and whispered, “you wanna come watch me come undone?”

dragged him into jeno’s guest room and got on her knees before the door even shut, pulled his jeans down and sucked him off like she missed it

let him fuck her over the bathroom counter, mirror fogged up, moaning into his shoulder as he bit her name into her skin

kept her panties off the rest of the night, let him fuck her again in bed with her dress bunched around her waist

kissed his chest after, murmured, “you’re still mine. you just don’t know it yet.”

ningning:

snuck outside with chenle after too many drinks, giggling and loud as she pulled him into the hot tub

ended up straddling him underwater, kissing him with champagne-slick lips, hands on his chest, her moans swallowed by steam

they snuck back inside, still dripping, and made it to his car — he laid the seats back, and she rode him in the back with the boot wide open to the night

kept teasing him the entire time, grinding slow and whispering “you like watching me fall apart like this, don’t you?”

left bite marks on his shoulder and his hoodie smelling like her perfume

nahyun:

complained about you every five minutes, making san roll his eyes

tried to get his attention with lazy kisses and bad dirty talk, whining “she’s not even that pretty” while unzipping his jeans

tried to ride him but didn’t even get him fully hard — he stopped her mid-movement and snapped, “you think moaning louder makes you better than her?”

the worst sex of the night by far — clumsy, boring, and cold

ended with him pushing her off and leaving her in bed alone, muttering “fucking waste of time.”

pov: if you got these boys as your pick, this is what would go down. also you can imagine jeno with back to you y/n here, chenle and ningning, mark and areum, donghyuck and (?) 😉

jeno:

choked you with the straps of your own dress while fucking you from behind against the bathroom counter, steam fogging the mirror as he forced your head up to watch

forced your thighs open with his knee while eating you out on his knees, holding your wrists to the tile floor like he owned you

spat in your mouth mid-fuck and called you his favourite little slut for always coming back to him soaked

made you repeat the word “please” until your voice cracked, refused to fuck you until you begged properly, voice raw and eyes glassy

came on your lower back and used your own ruined underwear to wipe it off, tossed them at you and said “don’t bother getting dressed.”

mark:

tied your hands behind your back with his hoodie, slow strokes until you were whimpering from the burn, whispering “you’re taking it so well, look at you.”

forced you to sit still while he fingered you under the guest room’s throw blanket — two fingers deep, curling up — until you soaked the sheets beneath

kept going even when you said you couldn’t take more, holding your legs apart as they trembled, mumbling “you’re gonna give me another. don’t care if it hurts.”

made you ride him facing the window, fully naked, hands on the glass, letting the party lights flicker over your body like a spotlight

dragged his teeth over your chest and bit down when you came, left crescent marks you had to hide the next day

jaemin:

pressed you flat to the mattress with one hand on your neck and the other on your ass, slow grinding strokes that punched the air out of you

fucked you with a toy first, made you hold it in while he kissed your mouth and whispered what he was going to do when he finally took over

pinned your knees to your chest and muttered “too deep?” right as he bottomed out — didn’t stop either way

laughed when you flinched from overstimulation and said “thought you could handle it.”

made you cum around his cock with your own hand, watching you fall apart while he barely moved, breath shallow, eyes on your face like he needed to memorise it

donghyuck:

slapped your clit every time you clenched, grinning as you whimpered and arched off the bed

face fucked you until your mascara bled into the sheets, thumb tugging your jaw wider while he said “c’mon baby, you’re too pretty not to swallow.”

dragged your body up the wall and fucked you there, held your thighs open as you slid down slowly with every thrust

made you say what you wanted — dirty, specific, filthy — wouldn’t give you anything until you said it right in his ear

came in your mouth and held your chin shut after, whispering “don’t you dare spit.”

chenle:

fucked you with a bullet vibe pressed to your clit, never letting up even when you clawed at his arms

left hickeys in a trail down your thighs, spreading your legs wider with each one, eyes locked on your cunt

teased your hole with the head for minutes, saying “not yet. not yet. beg me like you mean it.”

flipped you over mid-moan and shoved back in harder, faster, dirtier — gave zero warning

pulled out just to rub himself against your entrance until you begged him to finish, and still made you wait a second longer, just to hear the way you whined

ranking

y/n — no one came close lmao she came like 10 times possibly more

areum — dark horse

ryujin — freak. she and shotaro were on and off each other the entire night.

ningning — quiet until she wasn’t.

giselle — took one look at her draft pick and said “you have ten minutes to impress me.”

winter — surprisingly filthy. had a boy on his knees for most of the night while she sat on the counter drinking from a red solo cup.

yunjin — climbed onto her boy’s lap in the backseat and rode him with the windows fogged up.

chaewon — quiet chaos. had sex once

aisha — flirty but selective.

mia — sneaky. got eaten out in the backyard behind a bush while everyone else was inside.

yiren — had her nipples sucked

nahyun — worst sex of her life. complained about you the whole time.

karina — only one to not have sex lol

[paradiseismine]

Hii could I req Trevor x Ghost reader? Just anything smut or whatever i love your work tyy 🫶🏻

See you in your dreams - Trevor Spengler x ghost reader

Pairing: Trevor Spengler (Ghostbusters Afterlife) x ghost! f!reader

Warnings: softer smut; some hurt/comfort; some fluff; references to Wuthering Heights (if you squint); also maybe kinda long hehehe

Love note from Nina: omggg you guysss I got my first request!! I got sooo excited for this, I’m sorry it took me a few days. I did some research on how ghosts work in the Ghostbusters universe, but this may have some slips here and there. Hope you like it, anon! 💕 also: feel free to send me more reqs, I’d love to hear (read?) your ideas!

Growing up, Trevor always detested going to aunt Cathy’s house. Although very big and castle-like, it was always weirdly cold, somewhat decayed and had this creepy aura in there - kind of similar to the house he had moved in with his family a while ago, and that was his first argument when his mom, Callie, said she wanted to visit her sister. Aunt Cathy was Callie’s only sister, and one of the few family members they had left, so he couldn’t say no to his mom when she pleaded for him and Phoebe to tag along. They were only staying there for a week, tops, she promised.

As they arrived after a four hour drive, Trevor greeted aunt Cathy and helped Phoebe bring her luggage upstairs. It was an unusually big house, so they could each have a bedroom of their own. That made it a bit easier. Trev was feeling pretty introspective and definitely needed some time for himself. After some fancy dinner where aunt Cathy and mom talked about uncle Heath’s death throughout the entire three-course meal, he excused himself to get ready for bed.

A few minutes later, his mom knocked on the bedroom door.

- Get some rest, Trev - Callie said, approaching and running her fingers through her son’s hair in a lovingly manner, as he was sitting on the bed. - You deserve some time off after all of that ghost busting. There are no ghosts here, you’re safe to rest.

- No ghosts here??? That’s what we’ll see! - Phoebe yelled from the corridor, joking. Callie had left the door open.

Trevor chuckled and smiled at his mom.

- Thank you, mom. I will. Get some rest too, you must be tired.

She kissed his forehead and clicked the lights off before shutting the door, leaving him alone in the bedroom. Trevor let out a deep sigh and lied in bed, tired. Shortly after, he drifted off.

To someone who would normally have a hard time falling asleep on a new environment, that was pretty unusual. Maybe it was just tiredness, but something made Trevor sleep very soundly that night. He even started dreaming.

The dream set was some sort of forest. Not too dense, so he could still see the sky in a charming shade of blue. The birds were chirping softly and he could smell the grass, one of his favorite smells. That dream was weirdly vivid, for some reason. After walking around the forest for a minute or so, he spotted a girl dressed in a long white dress. It was you. Your hair cascaded along your shoulders and back, beautifully, as you turned around and noticed him. You had a small basket in your hands, and were absentmindedly picking out flowers next to a small cottage. He assumed it was your house.

You waved at him gently, smiling. He smiled back and felt confident enough to approach you and talk.

- Uh, hi - he said, a bit nervously. No conversation ever felt so real in a dream before.

- Hi Trevor - you responded, calmly. How did you know his name? - You created such a beautiful setting for this dream. Did you grow up in the countryside or something?

- I, uh… Not really, I just feel very at peace near nature, I guess. - he was able to finally look into your eyes.

The connection you both felt was instant. You didn’t know that much about him yet, and he knew nothing about you, but somehow, it was like a magnet was drawing your bodies closer. You two were paralyzed by each other’s gaze for a second, smiling shyly when you were able to look away.

- Do… Do I know you? I mean, you knew my name and everything, so I…

- Not really, no - you answered, shrugging. - My name is y/n, nice to meet you.

- You’re just something my mind made up, then? I mean, it makes sense that my brain would create a girl for me to talk to and stuff…

- No, I existed before being on your mind. - you pursed your lips together, not sure if you should have revealed yourself so early into the conversation.

- Y-you’re not a creation of my mind? - he inquired, utterly confused.

You chuckled and put some more flowers in the basket.

- Do you want to come in for some tea? - your head pointed at the cottage. - Maybe we can talk more comfortably in there.

- Hm, sure - he nodded. - But how do you know there’s tea in there? Is it your house?

- No, love - you responded, grabbing his chin for a second. - Your mind created this place. I was able to come in a few minutes before you showed up, just to help arrange everything and get some basic information about your life. You seemed so tired, I just wanted to help you release that tension. You’re a really beautiful boy, you know?

- Thank you - Trev laughed, slightly blushing. There were so many questions on his mind. - I mean, let’s go ahead and have some tea then.

You guided him into the cottage and sat him down on a chair next to the kitchen table. The table was already set with a porcelain tea pot and beautiful tea cups. You put the flowers you had picked on a small vase at the center of the table, and set the empty basket aside.

- Did you arrange this before I arrived?

- Aren’t we talking too much about me, darling? Tell me, how do you feel? Like, how do you really feel? - you sat down next to him and put your hand on his upper back.

Trevor slowly broke down crying as he spoke. He was so tired, but felt like he could never show any signs of it. He had to be strong for his mom, for Phoebe, for the Ghostbusters. He had to “man up”, be the man of the house and everything. There was never time for his feelings or for vulnerability. Until now. You embraced him gently, as he suppressed his sobs after communicating those afflictions to you.

- It’s ok, love - you reassured him. - You can cry, you can be yourself here. You’re safe. It’s your own mind, you can do whatever you want.

Trev stayed in your embrace a bit longer, stabilizing his breathing. His arms stopped shaking around your waist, and softly let go of your sides. He distanced himself slowly, just enough to look you in the eyes. Then, without any further notice, he put his lips to yours.

It was a very soft and delicate kiss. He held both of your hands in his, until he had to use one of them to get your long hair out of the way. Caressing your cheek, he deepened the kiss, faintly moaning into it.

- It feels so good to kiss you - you whispered, slightly embarrassed. - I haven’t been kissed in so long…

He guided your face to kiss you once again. It was like he couldn’t contain himself. Your lips felt so good against his. He was so gentle and respectful, you wanted to grab him by the collar and attack his lips with yours.

- You’re… you’re literally my dream girl - he admitted, kissing your palm. - I wish I could meet you in real life and spend more time with you.

- I’m a ghost, Trev - you confessed, more embarrassed than before. - But I’m a, say, rarer type…

- W-what do you mean by that? - he looked at you, confused, his eyes seeming a bit watery again.

- I’m a dream ghost. I can only appear physically in people’s dreams. - you explained, in a more serious tone, grabbing his hand softly. - I don’t haunt houses, or objects, or anything like that. I haunt minds. I can only exist when someone’s dreaming, so I can tune in to their dream. I sensed your presence and ended up in your conscience tonight.

- But I-I’m a ghostbuster… - his eyes blinked in disbelief.

- I know - you chuckled, a sad gaze lingering in your eyes. - It was such an amazing coincidence… You’re not gonna put me in a proton pack, will you?

- Of course not - his eyes widened and his hands tightened their grip around yours, trying to reassure you that he meant no harm.

- I knew it - you responded, lightly pecking his lips again, then letting go of his hands. - You need someone who understands, and I really wish I could be that person. You’ve got a beautiful mind, and oh, such a pure heart, Trevor Spengler…

- Touch me - he said as you stood up, and it nearly sounded like a question. His pleading eyes were desperately looking for yours. - Kiss me, anything. I just need to feel your touch. Please.

- You’re so warm - you put your hand on his cheek, sweetly. - and I’m a cold ghost girl…

- Don’t say that, y/n - he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm once again, looking up at you with pleading eyes. - I’m having the best time here with you. Please.

Trevor stood up, towering over you; leaned in again and kissed your lips, more eagerly this time. His right hand lightly grabbed the hair of your nape while his left hand caressed your cheek. You reached for his upper arms, shyly, wonderstruck by that kiss.

He then gently pushed you up against the wall. Trev seemed way more comfortable now, wild even. His lips embraced yours in an inebriating way, hands gripping your waist, hips brushing against yours. You could feel his arousal through his trousers, which sent you even closer to the edge. You felt the dream setting shift, walls disappearing around you for a second. When you opened your eyes, the setting was a bedroom - Trevor had understood that this was a dream, and he could control it as much as he wanted.

- I think I know what you’ve set your mind to, mister Spengler - you broke the kiss, chuckling and gesturing at the huge bed in front of you. The walls were decorated with flowers and beautiful curtains. It was all very lovely and romantic.

- Do you… do you want it too? - Trevor seemed concerned if you desired him as much as he desired you. - I mean, I -I felt so good kissing you, I-

- I would love to - you answered, fondly, as your hands ran through his hair. - Let’s just… Take it slow, ok?

He nodded, his lips red and slightly parted. Trevor leaned in to kiss you once again, much slower this time. The kiss was sensual and dainty, his lips tracing yours in a magnetic way, his hands cupping your face and your own resting on his shoulders and chest.

He put his hands to your waist, pulling your body closer to his in a slow and gentle motion. In reaction, you put your hands to the hair on his nape, holding it rather than pulling it. His hands roamed up to your shoulders, caressing your cold skin. You broke the kiss and nodded, looking into his eyes, giving him your permission.

He pulled down the sleeves of your dress and it slowly fell, pooling at your feet. You were completely bare underneath it, and Trevor let out an audible gasp at the sight of your naked body.

- Can I… Can I touch you, y/n? - Trevor stuttered, mesmerized at your beauty.

- Please… - you moaned, nearly whispering.

- You’re so beautiful - he muttered, his lips parted in awe, fingers gently exploring your breasts and the delicate curve of your waist. - You’re quite literally a dream…

You chuckled softly as Trevor kissed your neck and collar bones, his warm lips like fireworks on your cold skin. You gestured for him to take off his clothes as well, and he gave you permission to do so. Soon enough, you two were both stripped in front of each other. Trevor’s body was so beautiful. His smooth pale chest, his lightly toned arms… all of it made you shiver in anticipation. He took you in his arms again, and you couldn’t help yourself any longer.

- Take me, Trev, I’m yours - you whispered to his ear, enraptured by the pleasure you felt under his warm, soft human hands.

Trev tightened his grip on your waist and swooped you off of your feet. In a couple seconds, your back was against the mattress, as he had carefully deposited your body on the bed. He climbed on top of you and continued trailing his kisses down to your breasts.

Groping your waist firmly, he gently suckled on your nipples, faint moans now escaping your lips. Trevor kissed your body with such amazement, it looked like he wouldn’t stop. He kissed lower and lower down your belly, until he reached your wet slit.

- You don’t have to - you said, running your fingers through his hair to stop him, as his head slowly went downward.

- But I want to - Trevor tilted his head, looking into your eyes. - Can I?

- Well, ye - you could barely finish the word before Trevor dunk his head between your thighs again. - Yes…

He licked up and down your slit, his hot mouth attached to your core, causing your legs to tremble in bliss. He held your thighs apart with a tight grip, as if to detain you from distancing yourself from his touch. His tongue was rolling around your clit, tasting your core with such pleasure, he was nearly getting off on it as much as you. Your sweet juices were dripping down his chin as he lapped you up hungrily, delighted with your taste.

- Trevor… - you moaned, before arching your back on the bed, reaching your mercurial high.

His eyes stared into yours, half-lidded, as he seemed proud of himself for making you moan his name. No boy had ever looked at you in such an intense, lustful way.

As your whole body trembled, he kept going until you had ridden out of your high, you two savoring each second it had lasted.

- Felt good, beautiful? - he asked, a cocky smirk on his face.

- Amazing… - you panted, breathless.

He roamed his hands all over your body once again, warming up your cold skin, making you quiver and tingle. You sat up on the bed to capture his lips, tasting yourself as you kissed him.

- Is there anything else I could do for you, y/n? - he asked, enchanted by you.

- Yes, lay back, my love - you whispered, guiding him to lay down on the bed.

You got on top of him, one leg to each side of his waist. Reaching for his lips one last time, you kissed him passionately, wanting him to remember you. It was only a dream, you knew that. But you wanted him to remember those feelings, that touch, everything.

Going for his earlobe, you nibbled and sucked on it until Trev couldn’t help but moan and squirm under you. His neck was next. It soon got covered in kisses and hickies (it was only a dream and wouldn’t leave any trace behind, either way), just like his chest. You roamed your hands gently all over his torso, savoring the heat and softness of his human skin.

As you sat up on his lap, your heart was beating out of your chest with desire, but you wanted to make sure Trevor was comfortable. You wanted to be his dream girl, not his nightmare.

- May I? - you asked, softly, as your hand held his throbbing erection.

- Yes, y/n, please - he pleaded, lightly panting.

You raised and lowered your hips slowly, engulfing his cock inside you. It had been so long since you felt anything like this… Your muscles were tightening around Trevor’s shaft as you got to its base, and you could feel him shyly thrusting his hips up to meet yours.

- You’re mine now, Trevor Spengler - you whispered, riding him, ecstatic. You threw your head back, getting shivers down your spine, your hands on his chest.

- I’m yours, y/n - he moaned. Trevor’s beautiful dark eyes squinted in pleasure, his mouth opening slightly. His hands grabbed onto your hips to help you with your movements, as he was eager for more.

You don’t know how long it lasted, but your juices were all over his shaft, his inner thighs, everything. Every second of Trevor’s touch, even if he touched you for all of the eternity, still wouldn’t be enough. He was perfect, warm, soft, delicate, and so precise in every single little thing he did.

Trevor whispered your name, his voice faint and raspy, pleading. Your eyes met his immediately.

- Please, I-I - he stuttered, his eyes rolling in pleasure as he tried to speak. - I need to-

- Do it, my love - you grabbed his face.

His eyes squeezed shut as Trevor held your body to his, and with a louder moan, spilled into you. Ugh, he was so soft and warm. You missed being human just like him. As he came down from his high, you got off of him gently, trying no to hurt his sensitive shaft.

As you laid down next to him, you two snuggled up together in a thick warm blanket, enjoying each other’s scent. Trevor was playing with your hair as you rested your head on his chest. All you do could do was thank God, fate, the universe, anything that could be responsible for that encounter. Trev seemed to be doing the same, as he broke the silence a minute later.

- There must be a way - he said, determined. - I… I want to get to know you better, y/n. I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this with anyone before, I…

Suddenly, the whole room started losing definition, becoming blurrier and less colorful. Objects started vanishing slowly, and even though Trevor seemed utterly confused and scared, you already knew what this meant.

- Oh dear - you muttered, sad, gently caressing his cheek. - You’re waking up… Seems like we don’t have much more time together, at least for now. I enjoyed your company so much, Trevor. You’re a really special person. See you in your dreams tomorrow, if we’re both lucky. Try to sleep around 9:30 p.m., if you can.

He felt his body moving without his mind’s command, and the sight of you slowly vanishing from his grasp.

- No… No - he slurred still in his sleep, sad, but defeated. - Come back… Please.

But he woke up. His eyes opened and he realized it was already morning. His mom and Phoebe were arguing in the nearby bathroom over something stupid, and because of their bickering, he woke up.

He turned on the bed, frustrated, trying to fall asleep again, trying to find you; up until he noticed something had happened in his pants… A nocturnal emission. He was wet through his underwear and pajama bottoms, a visible patch of his own cum.

Great, he thought. How am I going to hide this? Y/n better come back to see me again tonight. 9:30, she said. I have to write this down.

[milliesfishes]

hellooo i have thoughts about girl dad!billy maybe you could do something with! I feel like he would be soo good with his daughter and constantly talk to her .. so maybe something like him soothing his crying baby with singing/talking and/orr him reacting to her first words ?💕

౨ৎ꣑ৎgirl dad billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Gentle like a breeze kissing the feathery leaves of a tree, you stroked the head of your newborn daughter, unable to tear your eyes from her little face. Her eyes were shut, chest rising up and down. Though only hours old, she was completely perfect. Already she had a smattering of dark hair, and when she'd opened her eyes for the first time, their bright blue color sparked yet another burst of joy. She looked just like her father, in your opinion.

Billy returned from the other room, having seen the doctor out with a hearty thank you for the safe delivery of your new daughter. You could see the exhaustion in your husband's eyes, the tiredness that came from all his worrying. But despite that, he looked as happy as you'd ever seen him. He ran a hand through his messy hair, kneeling beside you and lifting your hand to press it to his mouth. "You okay? Need anything?"

You shook your head, settling back into the pillows, trying to get comfortable without disturbing the baby. Billy watched you, and you could see him holding himself back. It made you smile, and you moved to the side, tipping your head. "Come sit."

He hesitated, but you could see he wanted to. With a little giggle, you nodded. "It's okay. You won't hurt anything." Billy slowly but surely climbed onto the bed, carefully adjusting himself around you. The instant his arm slid around you, your body began to melt into him, finally able to relax.

It was a funny thing, how delicate he was with you, especially when you had been pregnant. Here was a man who had killed and nearly been killed. And he handled you like a glass slipper. You suspected that much of it had to do with his violent past, and all the quiet luxuries survival had not afforded him. So you let him be gentle where he could, with the one he loved. And you couldn't deny it sent a thrill through you to have a man with a gun on his hip kneel before you after a long day and kiss your swelling midsection, lift you off your feet afterward and carry you inside to rest.

Now that same man was pulling up the blankets and guiding your head to his chest, his other hand on the head of your infant. He kissed the top of your head, smoothing down your hair. "You gotta sleep now, darlin'."

"'m gonna need to-to-" a yawn cut you off. "Feed her in a little."

"Just sleep 'til then," he murmured, smoothly transferring the baby from your arms to one of his. She looked even tinier, if possible, in the crook of his elbow. For a moment you worried she would wake up, but all she did was stir, her little nose twitching.

You yawned again, nodding and snuggling closer to his chest. Every bit of your body was brimming with exhaustion, and you were achy in a lot of different ways. One look at the sleeping baby in the arms of the love of your life though, and it was worth it.

"Go to sleep, angel," he breathed, rubbing your back tenderly. "You did so good today. Worked so hard. You deserve to rest."

"Mm," you hummed, already half gone. He kissed your hair one last time before you slipped into unconsciousness, safe and sound in the bubble of what your love had built.

It hadn't been easy by any means. The entire journey- finding out you were pregnant, getting married in a rush, trying to figure out what to do next. It only became worse when he had to leave for a month right after you found out, a work-related journey. You'd pushed him to go even though he hadn't wanted to. The truth was, with your new circumstances, he couldn't afford to miss out on any opportunities. Especially ones like this that paid such good money.

He'd left you with a flat tummy and returned to a bump under your dress, one he spent hours tracing over with your skirt pushed up when he returned home. You'd known it would be a girl long before labor pains began to probe at your body.

As you watched Billy cradle little Kathleen, affectionately nicknamed Kat by him, you understood why so many couples had another baby so soon after the first. The image of Billy cradling his baby girl, cooing at her and rocking her to sleep, was almost too much for your heart. Only a few months later and your body was already craving him again.

Kat was the sweetest baby there ever was, always smiling and giggling and wanting to be held by her mother or father. She loved to be cuddled, and you and Billy were more than happy to oblige, letting her lay between you in your bed. You could hardly stop staring at her, at every inch of her perfect face. She was pure love, manifested by you and Billy.

Billy was attentive as could be towards you after the birth, always making sure you remembered to eat and stand up. You would take turns getting up during the night to tend to Kat, soothing and feeding her respectively. You found solace in your baths, which you took together after Kat went to sleep. it was your alone time, when the beat of your hearts was synchronized and being in love was your only worry.

He would massage your shoulders, smooth his hands up your sides and just hold you, comfort you, whatever you needed. On the rougher nights, you'd bury your face in his chest and let the tears pour hot and heavy down your cheeks. Billy never failed to see you through it.

Tonight was particularly rough, and your crying hadn't ceased when you left the bathtub. He was as sweet as ever, brushing your hair and dressing you in your nightgown. By the time he pulled the covers over the both of you, tucking you snug into his arms, you were feeling a little bit better, the problem from earlier miniscule in the scale of him. He rocked you to sleep near the same way he did Kat, murmuring that he loved you and you were doing such a good job.

Needless to say, you fell asleep quickly.

Any dreams you had were hazy, taking on more colors than shapes as if your mind were an endless sunrise. In the duration of his month away while you were pregnant, your sleep had been considerably limited. Now, with the assured safety of him next to you, your body faded to black like evening to night.

Early, you woke to an empty bed, the blankets tucked around you. The first thing you heard was Kat, her little cries tugging at your heart. Billy was trying to hush her, and even though your eyes were closed, you could match his motions to his quiet dialogue. "Shh, it's okay, sweetheart. C'mon, 's time for bed, mkay? Don't wanna wake up Momma."

Rolling over, you stretched, sleepily opening your eyes. "Mm. Billy."

He half cursed under his breath, before remembering he had a baby in his arms. Softly, he said, "'m sorry, honey. Go back to sleep."

You blinked a few times, trying to see his shadow clearly in the dark. He was standing, holding your squirming little girl and bouncing her gently. Sitting up, you leaned against the headboard. "Billy."

"Baby-" You were already reaching over, striking a match and lighting the stubby candle on your bedside. In the faint glow, you saw what you'd been picturing- Billy still shirtless from his bath, his sleep pants low on his hips, holding Kat to his chest, her face buried in his shoulder. His hair was tousled from sleep, eyelids falling like drapes over his baby blues.

Reaching out for him, the corners of your lips twitched up. "She's probably hungry." Billy bit the side of his cheek, stepping closer. You knew he didn't want you to do anything this late, but if he wanted Kat to sleep there wasn't any choice.

You took her with ease, sliding the strap of your nightdress down to start nursing. Billy, long used to the process, nestled beside you, his arm sliding under yours to help support Kat. His hand covered the top of her head, holding her to your breast. When he leaned in and kissed your shoulder, you smiled.

"My beautiful wife," he murmured, nosing to your neck. "You're such a good momma."

The praise lightened you as Kat slowed down, and you lifted her up with Billy's help. "You're a good daddy too, you know. She loves you."

He took her from your arms to go lay her down, her body growing heavy as her full tummy lured her to sleep. You watched as he burped her and laid her down gently in her cradle, taking care to pull the blanket you'd crocheted over her legs. Rejoining you in bed, he nosed kisses into your hair. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you affirmed, blowing out the candle before he pulled you back down to his chest. Sometimes you were sure Billy was unable to keep from touching you for more than five minutes. Not that you minded at all.

This little life you'd built with him melted on your tongue like a sugar cube, only it never dissolved, only sweetened. You relished it, cherished it like nothing else. Your Billy, your darling little Kat. There wasn't anything in the world you would trade for it. He was your treasure, everything wonderful and good and true in your life blooming from him like the petals of a flower.

He smothered your hair in kisses. You rubbed his chest, ear over his heart. Gentle. Gentle like the love you built.