#I always feel so unsure about anything to do with posting if I can get a break tomorrow I want to try and make sense of my own blog

[mortellanarts]

So the other week I had a weird burst of inspiration and just made a lot of very loose lined sketches while listening to music that turned out so expressive I want to show them but idk there's no connective theme a lot of them are OCs there's some vent some weird kh speculating and some Akane Kurashiki blorbo brain like uhmmm I mostly feel bad I haven't finished any full piece worth posting since I started going to college in-person again honestly

[gghostwriter]

Hey, how you doing? So I was wondering if you could write a one-shot where Y/N visits Spencer in prison and just like how when JJ visited him, Spencer doesn’t like the way the inmates are looking at Y/N, and when he gets back to his cell or when he is in the prison yard, he hears inmates talking about Y/N and gets protective. Saying stuff like “don’t talk about her like that, you don’t get to talk about her” or something similar.

I am unsure if there is a fanfic like this so just in case, I am asking ☺️

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Protective!Spencer Word Count: 0.8k A/N: apologies that this took a while. I was feeling very hyper-critical and unsatisfied with anything I wrote so this collected dust in my drafts a bit—still do feel it if I’m being honest but I felt the motivation to revisit my rough draft and make some changes before posting. I hope you like it! Main masterlist

His. // Spencer Reid

Spencer hasn’t felt himself ever since his capture. If he was being honest, his descend to rock bottom started even before then but that wasn’t the point. No, the point was the accumulation of his lack of sleep in his single cell—only an hour at most, the constant alertness from keeping his identity as a fed hidden—his fashioned shiv always an inch away from reach, and the group shared meals—never knowing what other contaminants it has, all made him feel one step away from snapping. He was teetering on the edge of lashing out and like the unsubs that he used to profile in black and white typing, he only needed one stressor before all hell broke loose.

And that stressor was you. 

Visitation hours were always bittersweet. It soothed his soul to see your expressive eyes and beautiful face but dread always came after, knowing the minutes were counting down before you and him had to separate. He had always hated the idea of separation, hated not seeing you wholly and safe.

During the past cases, the bodies of each victim somehow always reminded him of you and here, locked in the confines with other criminals, made his hyper-vigilance of protecting you increase by a hundred. 

“Love, you don’t have to come visit me,” he suggested as the jeers from the other inmates about your looks echoed on the walls. Each whistle and vulgar mention of how your looks get their gears revving was a chip in his knightly armor and although he could see you trying to pay it no attention, it soothe no pain that he was the reason why you were exposed to all this sexualization.

“It’s fine, Spence. I can handle it as long as I get to see you,” you defended. “I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” the corners of his mouth lifting to a small smile. Four simple words that didn’t fully express the ache echoing in his chest. He could read in several languages but none of them could fully explain the loss that reverberates in him when it’s time to part ways.

You picked on the loose threading of his cardigan adorning your body. “I’ve been visiting your mom. She asks about you a lot. How you’re doing, how you’re being treated and uh—” your lips quivered from emotion “—she misses you too.” 

“Thank you for seeing her. Can you tell her I’m doing fine? I don’t want her to worry too much about me,” he uttered a lie. He wasn’t doing great and you could see that but having been together for so long, you understood the reasoning behind the fib without needing any explanation.

I’d like to get a piece of that, huh. Another crude sentence about you reached his ears causing him to snap his neck to the side and clench his jaw. With all of his vast intellect, Spencer never did understand the psychology behind men catcalling as a form of flirtation and expecting the recipient to react positively. But then again, men who perpetuate this behavior were more of animals in his eyes. Plebeian in thought and unappealing in form.

Maybe there was something in the stale air of prison that made him his hackles rise or maybe it was just his biological imperative to protect what was his. Either reason, he felt himself snap the next day during yard hour when a duo of inmates sat beside him to slobber about your beauty and body.

“Hey Twig, was that your girl the other day? That pretty young thing?” The one with the neck tattoo taunted. “Tell me, does she taste as sweet as she looks?” 

His bald headed partner sneered. “Man, I don’t think he can get her off, probably doesn’t even know how she sounds like in bed. With how skinny he is, bet he’s also pencil—”

“Have some respect. You don’t get to talk about her like that.” Spencer snarled out. He felt like an animal about to escape from his cage—gone was the logical ex-FBI agent and all that remained was a convicted, highly intelligent felon no longer afraid of committing a crime. Additional blood coating his shackled hands was nothing if done in your name.

They both snickered. “And what you going to do about it, huh?” 

He ground his teeth, saying nothing. Spencer knew the statistics of him winning in a fight specially 2 vs 1 was slim to none so he catalogued their faces and numbers in his vast mind and bid his time like a snake lying in the wait for his prey to settle in faux comfort.

“Thought so. C’mon man,” the one with the neck tattoo patted his back and started to stand with his partner. “I’lll see your girl in my fantasies tonight, Twig.” 

But before they were out of earshot, he turned and called back a warning—his last mercy before the execution. “You’re going to regret it.” 

They both hooted in laughter, unaware that Spencer makes good on his promises—threats really, anything to protect his girl.

And when he poisoned a group of inmates who were smuggling drugs inside the jail, he made sure that all those men who jeered sexual innuendos at you, counting in the two who confronted him in the yard, were included. His methods cold, detached, and impersonal—something he learned from the killers he had spent half of his life profiling.

There were whispers, of course, who caused the contamination. He wasn’t deaf. He knew it was what labelled him as a danger and almost untouchable in prison. An emerging alpha in this testosterone filled animal kingdom. The same status that extend to you, his chosen queen.

And so during your next visit when no cat calls reached your ears, you innocently asked about it and he just shrugged like it was no big deal. He didn’t want to taint your mirage of him any more than his stint in prison had done. You were his to protect, his to care for, and his to love.

To put it simply, you were his.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[kitscutie]

hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹

snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: none!

summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.

a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!

word count: 2.2k

join my taglist here.

"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.

You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.

"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.

"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.

"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.

"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.

You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.

"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.

"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.

"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.

You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.

"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.

"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.

"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.

"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.

"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.

"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.

"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.

"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.

"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.

"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.

You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.

"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.

"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.

"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.

"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.

"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.

"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.

"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.

"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.

"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.

"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.

As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.

Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.

She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.

He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.

"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.

"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.

The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.

You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.

Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.

Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.

"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.

"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.

"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.

"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.

"Okay." You said.

"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.

His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.

Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.

"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.

"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.

"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.

"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.

"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.

"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.

"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.

"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.

"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.

You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum

[roanofarcc]

IS IT CASUAL NOW?

pairing. scott miller (twisters) x fem!reader

summary. what happened between you and scott was supposed to be strictly casual, but when you feelings got too involved, you decided to call it quits. But storms and close calls have a way to bringing out true feelings. 

warnings. allusions to smut but no actual smut, suggestive language, a curse or two, injuries, reader gets hurt, medical descriptions. scott is a little bit of an asshole & a sweetheart (he’s complicated, okay?). idk how I feel about this but I’ve been writing it for what felt like forever & I needed to post it so it stops haunting me.

word count. 3.9k || masterlist

Feelings were messy; they always got in the way of things. You weren’t sure when yours changed or why, but they surely were leading you quickly toward disaster. It was supposed to be a casual thing, a no-strings-attached kind of thing. ‘Sleeping with the enemy’ wasn’t supposed to be anything more than meaningless sex in shitty motels after both of your storm-chasing teams went to sleep. And maybe that was a bit dramatic, but the Wranglers had a flare for dramatics and a hatred for Storm Par. You were caught in the mess you made, unsure of what to do. 

Scott was not the kind of man who wanted a serious relationship. He had a bad attitude and was one-track-minded. But he was just as lonely as you were, and that had quickly become a recipe for a delicious disaster. You two found yourself entangled in a strictly sex-only relationship, unknown to your two teams, enjoyed in the sanctity of midwestern motels. And for a while, the thrill of something so casual with no real stakes was exciting. 

You’d only ever had real relationships, partners you took home to meet your parents, and who bought you dinner. Scott was new territory. He was an asshole, but there was a certain charm that kept you coming back when he called you beautiful while fumbling for the zipper of your jeans or pressing soft kisses to your neck. 

Things between you two were good, but at some point, you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. It started to mean something to you. You tried to ignore it, burying it down deep in your gut, but that only worked for so long. 

Scott never stayed long; he didn’t want anyone to catch him sneaking out of your room. But you hardly ever got the chance to catch your breath before he was searching for his clothes strewn across the floor. You rolled your lips into your mouth, chest still rising and falling heavily, and grabbed your t-shirt from where it had been tossed onto the nightstand. 

“Are you guys following the storms up to Arkansas tomorrow?” he asked, falling back into himself the same way he always did. It was like the moment he stood from the bed, he snapped back into himself, stiff and work focused. 

He was a hard man to understand. You supposed you weren’t really supposed to understand him, that was the nature of your relationship. The less you knew about someone, the easier it was to not care. But you cared too much about everything and everyone. 

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, toying the itchy motel blanket between your fingers. Anxiety twisted in your gut like a storm, bringing unruly waves that flooded your chest and made it tight. “Scott?” 

He hummed in response, tugging on his shoes, not looking at you. It was a band-aid you needed to rip off, but you knew the nasty wound underneath it. You were scoffing it; you couldn’t keep it up. 

“I, um, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You held your breath after the words fell from your lips. You didn’t want to say it; you didn’t want to mean it, but if you spent another evening with Scott you’d be done for. Feelings for him ached inside your chest, but you had to snuff them out before they grew any more intense and left you heartbroken in the wake. Being heartbroken for someone who didn’t care much for you beyond sleeping together sounded like a nightmare. You wanted to get ahead of it; no hard feelings. 

He paused, standing up right as he put on his second shoe and furrowed his brows. “Do what?” he said, confused. 

You winced. “This,” you said, pointing between the two of you. “Us.” 

“Why?” Scott lingered by the door, crossing his arms over his chest. He wasn’t a man of many words, curt and to the point you had learned. 

You sighed, casting your gaze onto your lap. You felt small and a little embarrassed that you couldn’t separate sex from feelings. Scott seemed to do it so easily, but they were too intertwined for you. “What we have is good,” you started. “But I think I need something more…real, I guess.” 

“This isn’t real enough for you?” he asked with a raise of his brows. 

“You don’t want a relationship, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, quickly. 

“But I do.” 

Scott was quiet for a moment, his face swarming with emotions you couldn’t pinpoint before they vanished and fell back into his usual, stoic expression. “With me?” 

You smiled sadly, shaking your head even though it felt wrong, even though you were lying, a little. You knew the idea of you and Scott in a real relationship was purely fictional, completely intangible. You were probably the last person on Earth he’d want to date if he ever found himself able to look past his work. But you were soft-hearted and couldn’t help but think about it, even if it was ridiculous. 

“If we keep this up, maybe,” you tried to joke but it fell flat. “But no, I just meant in general. I don’t think I’m really cut out for this.” 

He pursed his lips, looking for a moment like he wanted to say something but decided against it and, instead, nodded slowly. “If that’s what you want.” Scott turned and grabbed the door handle, hesitating before he opened it. You tried to say goodbye, but he slipped out quickly, leaving the words lost in the quietness of your motel room. 

You sighed, falling back against your pillow and bringing your hands up to your face in frustration. You knew you had done the right thing, and it would have hurt even worse if you waited, but it still sucked. You weren’t cut out for casual. 

“Why are you so mopey?” Kate asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside you at the little dinner. You volunteered to grab everyone dinner while they worked on the truck before tomorrow’s storms. Kate followed you, picking up on the sulky attitude you had been trying to hide all day. 

You sighed, tapping the countertop and avoiding her eyes. “It’s nothin’,” you said, trying to add a hint of cheeriness to your tone but it fell flat. 

“If I tell you something, you promise not to get mad at me?” Confused, you glanced over at her. Kate was too sweet for anyone to be mad at her, you were sure of that. Besides, if anyone got mad at Kate, you were sure Tyler would wreak havoc. “Last night, I left my room to grab my phone charger from the truck and I kind of saw…” she looked over her shoulder at the diner’s company before lowering her voice into a whisper. “Scott leaving your room. That’s not why you’re mopey, is it?” 

Your groan answered her. “No one was supposed to find out.” 

She frowned. “I won’t tell, promise.” 

“It doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.” You shouldn’t have been sad; you were the one who called it off, but it left a little crater in your chest, a stupid feeling. Scott wasn’t someone you brought home to your parents or who would buy you flowers out of the blue. He was a one-night stand kind of guy; he made snarky comments and called you and your team hillbillies. You should have felt good about your decision, but you just couldn’t. 

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” you said. 

“Why? Did he do something stupid? Because I’ll kick his ass.” 

You smiled at her offer, tempted to take her up on it for your own sake, but it was unreasonable. “I called it off.” 

“Oh,” she said, patting you gently on the shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t know why I’m upset about it.” You wished you could just cross it out of your head, said and done, and wipe your hands clean of it. He was just a guy, but he was stuck on you. “We were just sleeping together; that was it. But…but I’m pathetic.” 

Kate shook her head. “You’re not pathetic; don’t talk like that. Do you…like him?” She nearly winced when she said it, like it was a painful idea even for her to swallow. Scott wasn’t some supervillain, but he was a sore spot for her best friend, Javi. The two had started Storm Par together until their butting heads finally cracked. Javi left Storm Par and joined the Wranglers along with Kate, and Scott had to pivot to fill the gap Javi left. 

“I was starting too, that’s why I called it off.” 

Kate hummed in understanding just as the waitress placed your bags of food on the counter. She helped you gather the takeout with a smile and said, “Well, we’ll just have to find you someone new. Tyler wanted to take everyone out to this bar he and team always stop at during the season. Between all of us, we’ll find you someone even better than Mr. Storm Par.” 

That didn’t sound so bad. 

Oh, but it was. You’re not sure what happened, but it seemed like every decent, single person was taken or nowhere near Arkansas. Instead, the bar was filled with couples, oddballs, and creeps. You sipped on your drink and sank down in the booth, feeling defeated. 

Kate joined you with a huff. “Sorry this turned out to be a total failure,” she said. “I don’t know what happened to all of the hot, decent, single people.” From across the booth, Tyler made a noise as he swallowed his beer and put his hands out in an ‘excuse me?’ manner. Kate smiled and shook her head. “For her,” she said, pointing to you. 

Tyler nodded in understanding. “Ah, I didn’t know you were looking.” 

You cleared your throat. “It’s, uh, a new endeavor.” Because you’d been so preoccupied with sleeping with Scott for the last couple of months, you hadn’t even thought about seeking someone else out, a real relationship. To your friends, you were simply content in your singleness, but that wasn’t the truth whatsoever. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna find anyone here,” Boone said, scanning the bar. The front door opened and in poured more people. His face twisted. “Unless you wanna shack up with one of Storm Par,” he laughed and his friends around the table echoed it, aside from Kate and yourself. Instead, your eyes widened as you turned your head to follow Boone’s gaze. Into the bar walked Storm Par, still dressed in their uniforms and looking out of place. Your staring caught Scott’s eye. He held your gaze for a moment, same stoic expression until he blinked and turned his attention onto the bar as they approached it. 

On the other side of Kate, Javi hummed. “Hey, maybe they’re loosening up a bit. I don’t remember the last time Scott willing walked into a bar,” he said. 

You laughed fakely along with your friends while Kate comfortingly squeezed your hand under the table. 

You sat and drank with the Wranglers for a while, sneaking subtle glances at Scott every now and then, only to find his attention glued to the shelves of liquor behind the bar or one of his teammates. It wasn’t until the smell of smoke and the taste of beer became a little overwhelming did you slide out of the booth and excused yourself to grab some air outside. 

The nighttime air filled your lungs the second you stepped outside. You leaned against the brick exterior of the bar, gazing out into the quiet street. People passed in and out of the bar, some laughing alongside their friends, others grumbling under their whiskey-tainted breath. You hardly paid them mind, until you felt someone’s eyes on you. For a moment, a slight worry plagued you, until you turned your head and found a familiar face approaching you. 

“Hey,” you greeted Scott with a tight-lipped smile. 

He looked a little uncomfortable, his hair disheveled and uniform wrinkled from the rowdy company of the bar. He let out a breath before he said, “Hi," and joined you against the building. He left a wide gap like you were a little more than strangers but less than anything else. 

“I’m surprised to see you guys here.” 

Scott sighed, somewhere between disgruntled and mocking amusement. “Wasn’t my idea. It’s ruining my reputation as a stick in the mud.” 

You laughed despite yourself, and he met your gaze. “Oh, somebody’s got jokes now?” 

He half smiled, fixing his gaze out on the street. “I’m full of surprises.” A quiet moment passed between you two. In the fresh spring air, there was still a tension that tugged on you. It felt odd, being so close to him without either hurling jabs back and forth in the company of your teammates or kissing him while your hands roamed.

Scott cleared his throat. “You’re sure about, uh, you know, ending this?” The way he asked sounded casual like you weren’t sharing something intimate. 

You nodded until you realized he wasn’t looking at you. “Yeah,” you answered. 

He peeled himself off of the brick wall and turned toward you. A rock settled in your gut; that was why he came outside, to make sure you didn’t have a change of heart. You didn’t know why, exactly, that irritated you. Maybe a stupidly hopeful part of you thought maybe he had changed his mind and was looking for something less casual and more real. But he wasn’t. 

Then he just left, heading back inside and leaving you to blow air from your cheeks. 

The storm had blown in with a vengeance. The town was supposed to be a pit stop on your team’s and other storm chasers' way toward bigger storms developing further east, but it became the hub of a sneaky but violent front. You stumbled out of the truck and into the powerful winds that nearly knocked you up against the door you struggled to shut. 

The Wranglers looked for cover, helping some unprepared stragglers along into the nearby buildings. You made a move to follow them, but you hesitated when you saw one of Storm Par’s trucks parked alongside a sidewalk a little way down the road. One of the newest members rushed in your direction, towards the shelter, but the other person beside the truck didn’t. Scott stood there with his phone at his ear, struggling against the wind to be heard. 

You sucked in a breath before turning around, bee-lining for the building you saw the rest of the Wrangler rush into. But once you reached the doors, pulling them open for a group of people to run inside, you felt the storm grow stronger, the rain running sideways in the wind that was determined to blow over everything in its path. You weren’t sure what exactly compelled you to spare another look over your shoulder at Scott’s truck, but there was a tug on your gut that you couldn’t ignore. And when you did, your heart dropped violently. 

Scott was on the ground, pressed between the sidewalk and a mess of debris. Though it was difficult to see clearly through the rain, you were close enough to notice him struggle as the tornado loomed closer. 

It was out of instinct that you abandoned the safety of the shelter and hurried across the road. Storm chasing had created a bad habit of putting others first in dangerous weather, a need to be helpful in the wake of a disaster. 

You dodged flying debris as you crossed the distance and arrived to find Scott trying to shove a large metal ladder that must’ve come flying off the top of someone’s van. He looked a little dazed, rain in his eyes and hands cut up from where he probably tried to block the blow that came in too quickly. 

You quickly grabbed a rung and started to pull before he groaned in pain. “Shit!” he hissed, blinking away the water from his eyes to clear up his vision enough to notice you. “W-What are you doing?” he yelled above the howl of the wind. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you said quickly, pulling harder despite your slippery hands. The ladder was heavy, and the conditions only made it ten times harder to get it to budge, but between the two of you, you managed to shove it off of Scott. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain as he placed a hand on his ribs where the ladder had been pressed against. “Come on, we’ve gotta go!” You pulled him up by the arm, ignoring his groans of protest. 

The second he was standing upright, he stared at you with wide eyes and chest heaving. Your attention fell onto the sky and storm. Not thinking about much other than getting the hell out of the storm’s way, you grabbed Scott by the hand and pulled him toward the building. You moved quickly, despite whatever injuries he possessed, and were almost there when something hurled through the air. Before you could react, duck out of the way, or even attempt to avoid it, the object sliced across your forehead. 

Pain bloomed across your skin, stopping you in your tracks. You brought your hand up to your forehead. For a moment, you thought it was just rain that coated your skin, but when you pulled your hand back, it was red-coated. 

Scott tugged on your hand, his face twisted in a mix of emotions you were too dazed to read. He pulled you the rest of the way to the building. The world was a blur, a mix of colors that blood seeped into, staining your vision and making panic stretch uncomfortably inside your chest. People were gathered near the back wall, far from the windows. Scott pulled you down, his hand pressed firmly against your forehead. 

Glass exploded as the windows shattered. Everyone gasped and pressed themselves impossibly close to the back wall. The pain in your head battled your increasing panic, making it hard to breathe. 

Scott noticed, using his free hand to grip your shoulder. “It’s all right,” he said, voice unsteady. “You’re all right.” But you did feel like it. The world grew blurrier by the minute. You felt your eyes flutter against your will. The cut across your head must’ve been deep. Little black dots spotted your vision, despite your attempt to fight it. Your head dropped, falling into Scott. He kept his hand pressed against your cut and used his other to wrap around you, his own breath panicked as you fell unconscious. 

The lights were too bright when you woke up, groggy and disoriented. With a disgruntled hum, you lulled your head side to side as your eyes fluttered open. 

“Oh, thank goodness,” a voice filled your ears, light and relived. You blinked and Kate stood hovering over you with a small smile on her lips. 

“You gave us a heart attack,” Tyler said. 

“Sorry,” you managed to say, despite the dryness in your throat. “Everyone okay?” 

Kate nodded, patting the top of your hand. “The team’s all right; you were the only one who took a hit.” You wanted to ask about Scott, but Kate must’ve read your mind because she added, “Storm Par was all right too.” 

“Yeah, I think you short-circuited Mr. Robot. I’ve never seen Scott so bend out of shape after you passed out,” Tyler said, making your gut twist oddly. “He said you saved his ass.” 

You tried to sit up, but pain rippled throughout your head, causing you to wince and sink back down. Kate shot Tyler a look as if to say ‘stop talking’ and he listened. “You got a couple of stitches and a concussion. But the doctor said you should be back to feeling like yourself in a week or so.” 

With a sigh, you replied, “Great.” 

A soft knock sounded from the door. Tyler opened it and looked surprised as it swung open to reveal Scott. He looked surprised himself like he wasn’t sure he should be there. Nevertheless, he cleared his throat and offered Tyler a look that was different than his usual scowl. 

“What’d you want?” Tyler asked, but Kate quickly rushed to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him to stand down. 

“Ty, we should go find the doctor.” She turned her head back to you for confirmation that you were okay with Scott visiting, and you nodded. 

Tyler looked confused. “What-” Kate started to drag him out of the room, side-stepping Scott before she gently nudged him inside. She and Tyler disappeared into the hall, leaving you with Scott. He pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. 

“Hi,” you greeted, offering him a small smile. 

He returned it and moved to your bedside. “Hi,” he said. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’ve been hit in the head,” you answered honestly. There was a light throbbing behind your eyes, dulled by the medication the doctor must’ve given you while you were out. “But it’s not too bad. How are you?” 

“Besides a couple bruises, not in too bad of shape.” Scott pressed his lips together in a thin line, hesitating for a moment. “Mostly just been worried…about you.” 

A warmness filled your chest, and you were too groggy to fight it off. He was worried about you, which you should have brushed off; you had passed out on him, so it wasn’t a crazy idea. But it felt big. 

“I’m okay.” You didn’t know what else you were supposed to say. 

He placed the bouquet of flowers on the little table beside the bed. “These are for you.” 

“They’re pretty. Thank you.” 

For a moment, there was a still tension that pulled between you, like it was waiting for someone to make a tug. You felt your better judgment slip, replaced by the urge to say something you’d probably regret, but Scott beat you to it. 

“Uh, I-I know this is bad timing but if I don’t say something now, I probably won’t,” he started, much to your surprise and confusion. “I know you said you wanted to call this thing,” he pointed between the two of you. “Off. But I don’t.” 

You sighed, “But-” 

“I know,” he cut you off. “You want something real. A relationship. And I don’t. Or…I thought I didn’t. But the more I’ve been thinking about it, I like being with you. I don’t want to…not be with you. I want to be with you more, actually, not just us sleeping together. If you still want something real, then so do I.” 

You blinked, stunned by his sudden confession. The heat spread from your chest, up your neck, and to your face. “Really?” 

“Really,” he said, his lips quirking upwards in a smile that made the fluorescent lights look dim. “If I hadn’t screwed it up too much already.” 

With a quick shake of your head, you returned his grin, and his body shifted in relief. “I like being with you too.” 

“When you’re feeling better, let me take you on a real date, somewhere a hell of a lot nicer than those motels.” His hand ghosted over yours and you quickly intertwined your fingers with his before you pulled him down to your level. 

“You are full of surprises, huh?” you joked, your cheeks hurting from smiling. 

He shrugged. “I told ‘ya.” 

[asilentsongbird]

Original post

"You have been charged with evading arrest. Do you accept the charges against you?"

You really don't know what to say. Especially since it's Neuvillette asking you.

You had been quietly, secretly dating for a few months. Neither of you were ready to talk with others about your relationship, and Neuvillette was always worried someone might use your relationship to their own advantage.

You shrug at your boyfriend, unsure of what to do. He lets out a sigh, as though this whole thing is an inconvenience. It sort of is.

He knows as well as you do that the charges won't stick. Because out of all the places you were last night, you were in the perfect place for an airtight alibi.

You were in Neuvillette's arms.

"I suppose?" you manage, feeling quite put on the spot.

It can't be helped, really. Though you had been to the Opera House before, you had never been there as a defendant. Most of the time you came here to pick Neuvillette up when he worked too late.

"Then we shall proceed."

Your shoulders slump slightly. Well, at least you'll get to see the Fortress of Meropide.

"Though typically at this time we would go over the charges and discuss evidence, I will have to intervene on this trial. The defendant could not have evaded arrest," Neuvillette said calmly, arms crossed over his chest.

To anyone else, he looks like the picture of ease. It's kind of nice being so close to Neuvillette right now, it allows only you to see the tips of his ears turn pink.

"Oh? And how can you say that?" Furina demands, looking quite upset that she isn't going to get a show.

Somehow, Neuvillette manages to stay composed as he answers, "Because she was with me last night."

Oh, poor Neuvillette looks ready to die from embarrassment. He was never going to live this down.

"I KNEW IT!"

You cover your face with your hands out of embarrassment, though it was a bit funny to see Furina leaning over the balcony of her chair, looking beyond happy that Neuvillette finally said something.

"Yes, well, if that is all, then I will dismiss this case," Neuvillette said, clearly embarrassed.

"IT MOST CERTAINLY IS NOT ALL!"

From the excited look on Furina's face, and the exasperated one on Neuvillette's, you had a feeling that this really was far from over.

Oh well, at least you don't have to keep anything a secret anymore.

[buttercuparry]

News of massacres, of IOF aggression in Gaza never stops hitting you. Recently the IOF attack on al-Mawasi camp martyred 40 Gazans and the horror upon horror of it is that the occupation forces are using weapons that vapourize human bodies. This cruelty is not new and it has become a daily occurrence for almost a year now. Every camp, every humanitarian zone has been bombed and attacked repeatedly – from Jabalia to al-Mawasi, nowhere is safe and still Gazans are trying their best to survive however they can. So in light of this, I want to bring attention to Kareman’s campaign who nearly ESCAPED DEATH today when al-Mawasi camp was attacked.

Kareman ( @karemandohan1999 ) has been trying to fundraise for almost TWO MONTHS!! All she wants to do is protect her son, Hamoud, who is only 14 months old and she is still shaking from thinking about how close she came to losing her family in this genocide. I don't have much to say myself but I will let you hear from her directly:

Dear Friends, I'm sharing here an update as we have reached 300 terrible days since the onset of this nightmare. 

The goal has always been clear: my family and their safety come first and foremost, followed by essential supplies, drinking water, medicine, and other necessities that any household must have. The challenges are many. 

For months, we have been planning to evacuate to a safer place, that's why we wanted to make a fundraiser to help this purpose. That dream was shattered when the Rafah crossing was closed three months ago. Since then, we have adjusted our priorities.

When you see your family's difficult situation, you will spend everything you have on their comfort, no matter the cost. The focus now is on basic necessities such as food, and drinking water, and expensive medicine so we can manage the widespread diseases and epidemics. The situation in Gaza has gone from bad to worse. The prices are rising and the increasing frequency of new displacements. 

Nowhere is safe. It can be difficult to express the full picture of our suffering - words are inadequate. We miss our normal lives. We miss who we used to be...

Kareman is very scared and has been traumatized. She has been displaced so many times all to escape the IOF aggression and yet today she was almost at death's door. So please help her. She has told me that her family has not managed to even buy a tent and that they have been using sleeping covers to construct a makeshift shelter. They are also living very close to a garbage dumping site that is a breeding ground for epidemics. All in all, Kareman  wants to move immediately to a safer location but currently has no money to spare for anything except for a small amount of food and water.  

SO PLEASE BOOST and DONATE!! This is an emergency – Hamoud is getting sick from both the sand blowing in past their flimsy shelter and from the smell of the garbage and today after escaping death, the whole family is feeling very unsure and scared. Do whatever you can. Anything helps..

Currently at $7,836 / $50,000 USD.

Post shared by 90-ghost.

[moonstruckme]

i was wondering if we could have some roomate!james where him and reader have a disagreement over something and reader feels like james don’t want her there anymore but he comforts her??

Thanks for requesting!

cw: reader feels financially insecure

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“James.” You run your fingers worriedly over the small tears in the doorframe. Look to your roommate in the kitchen. “This is getting out of hand.” 

“What is?” 

“Juniper’s been scratching on the doorframe again.” 

James tsks. “Junie-girl,” he coos, little reprimand to be found in his tone as he looks down at the orange cat currently winding through his ankles, “what are you trying to do to us, huh?” 

You’re not quite so amused. Since James had agreed to look after his friend Lily’s cat while she’s traveling, Juniper has knocked down and broken two of your glasses, scratched up a corner of the couch, and pissed on the carpet in James’ room. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with the smell of that last one yourself, but you doubt your landlord will be pleased if James can’t get it out by the end of your lease. 

“She’s got to stop,” you say, oddly unsure if you’re trying to reason with James or the cat. “It’s getting really noticeable.” 

“I’m not sure what else to do.” James shrugs. His pan sizzles as he turns over the chicken he’s cooking. “I’ve already moved her favorite scratching post over by the door and sprayed it with the catnip Lily gave me.” 

You cross your arms and sit down on the couch, chewing the inside of your lip. “I’m worried about the security deposit,” you admit. 

“Oh, don’t be.” James waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “My last apartment was way worse than this when I moved out, and they didn’t charge me for anything.” 

His unconcern nettles you. Of course, why would James be upset about a security deposit? He likes to pretend at independence, but you know his parents will always give him funds if he’s in a bind. He doesn’t worry about money the way you do. 

 “Yes, but that was a different landlord, wasn’t it.” There’s a bit of bite to your tone, and you try to soften it. “Maybe someone else could take her for the rest of Lily's trip?” 

James turns, eyebrows lifting as though he’s surprised you’d even ask. “She couldn’t get anyone else to take her in the first place. Mary’s visiting her family, Marl’s allergic, and Sirius would have a cow.” You’re not very inclined to find the last one a spectacular excuse, but you keep your mouth shut. “I agreed to take her,” he says, somewhat firmly, “and I don’t want to go back on that.” 

Heat prickles over your skin. “I just—listen, I can paint over the small things,” you say. “I’m going to try to cover up as many damages as I can, but when your friends come over and break the handle off the microwave” —true story— “or you let their cats tear up the apartment, I don’t know what to do.” 

“I told you I’m going to fix the microwave,” he says without turning around. 

“When, James? That was months ago, and—” 

“And if my friends coming over is a problem for you, it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of opportunities to mention it when we first moved in.” Now James is growing agitated too, his posture stiffening over the stove. “I don’t get where this is coming from. I told you before we moved in that I’d want to have friends here often. When I asked if Junie could stay here, you said it was fine!” 

“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” You feel ridiculous, nearly shouting at him in your mostly lovely apartment. James really isn’t a bad roommate overall; you know you could do far worse. But the small things have begun to add up, and you really cannot afford not to lose your deposit. “I like your friends, and I like Junie, but this is—it’s too much.” 

“You shouldn’t have lived with me if you couldn’t deal with it.” 

James flicks off the stove, turning around to speak to you directly, and you see the moment he sees the glossy sheen in your eyes. His expression pinches. 

“Sweetheart—” 

“No. Do not feel bad for me right now,” you hiss, blinking furiously. “Just because I’m not good at arguing doesn’t mean I’m not still mad.” 

Your anger is rapidly fading, though, as his words reverberate around in your head. You shouldn’t have lived with me. Does he really think that? There are certainly things upon which you don’t see eye-to-eye, but you love living with James. You love spending time with him, sharing things with him, just being around him. The idea that he doesn’t feel the same about you starts spiderweb cracks going through your heart. 

“I’m not good at arguing either,” he says with a hefty sigh. The tension seems to go out of his shoulders with it, and he starts toward you with heavy steps, plopping down on the couch. “Can we just talk, please?” 

You sniffle, working hard to suppress your tears. “Do you think it’d be better if we didn’t live together?” you ask. 

James' eyes widen behind his glasses. His brows hook up in the middle. “No. Why would you say that?” 

You shake your head, not quite looking at him. “I honestly do like your friends. I don’t mind them coming over or helping you do favors for them, and I get that—that sometimes things happen.” You take a shallow breath. Ignore the way James’ hand twitches in his lap. “But you’re right that I didn’t consider all of this when we moved in together. I’m okay with trying to get past it, but if you want me to move out—” 

“Oh my god, no.” James leans forward, trying to catch your gaze. You don’t let him, because just then a small droplet of water squishes out of the corner of your eye and begins a slow trudge down your cheek. “Sweetheart, I don’t want that. I like living with you.” 

Juniper hops up onto the couch, plodding onto your lap and rubbing her side against your stomach affectionately. A wet laugh bubbles out of you, more tears cresting your cheeks as you scratch awkwardly between her ears. 

James makes a sound so soft you think you’ll dream about it. “Can I hug you?” 

You lean toward him in answer. He meets you halfway, needling his arms under yours and folding you into him. You press your face, hot with embarrassment and upset, into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and James’ hand rubs your back in big, sweeping circles, before it stops moving at all, pressing flush to your spine, easing you closer. Junie hops off your lap. Evidently, she considers your comfort taken care of.

“I don’t want you to pity me,” you mumble. When you blink, your lashes leave wetness like the strokes of a paintbrush on his skin. “If you want me to move out, it’s okay.” 

“I don't,” he promises, squeezing you until it almost hurts. “I was being rash. I was only being defensive because you were angry. About very reasonable stuff, if I’m honest. I can pay for your half of the security deposit if we lose it.” 

You shake your head, shifting your body to hug him harder. James meets you a hundred percent. “You don’t need to do that.” 

“I do, it’s fine. It’s my mess. Just don’t talk any more about moving out, okay?” 

You mumble your agreement into his neck. It tickles, and James squeaks, but he doesn’t let you go.

[lymtw]

hello hello! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with writing this, but if so are you open to writing a toji x reader fic involving period sex? thank you!!! and p.s. i love your writing 😫❤️

A/N: Thank you for reading my works ☺️🫶🏼 I am totally comfortable writing this! I should really put up a post with my do's and don't's. I'll get to that as soon as I find the motivation 😃👍 Anyways, thank you for sending in this request 💙

| cw: period sex |

You don't like making a scene out of that time of the month when it comes to spending time with Toji. You don't like mentioning it to him, so whenever he wants to start removing clothes with you during that time, you always make up some excuse. You say you're not in the mood or that you're too tired or that you can help him out, but that's all, and thank god he never pushes it. He would rather take what you offer him or suck it up and bear the horniness in silence, than make you uncomfortable.

Toji knows the basics of basics of menstruation. He knows that you bleed out of your vagina for a few days, and that often times, it's an uncomfortable and painful time for your body. He knows that the fluctuations of your hormones brings on mood swings, and that you have to buy certain products to prevent you from getting blood everywhere.

"Ma," he calls, as soon as he walks through the door of your apartment. He's holding a bag of food in each of his hands. Food that you were craving and requested for him to pick up once he finished his job. Your door was unlocked so he knows you're not out, but you didn't answer him. He put the food down on the dining room table and went on to look for you. He didn't have to look too hard, because you were in your bedroom, the first room he checked.

"Doll?" He calls, again. "I brought the food you asked for. Don't you wanna eat?" He watches you from the doorway. You look down, very much so, and he knows there's something wrong because you answered him with the smallest shake of your head. He hates seeing you all curled up and seemingly lifeless like this. Your body is drowned by one of his hoodies and you're wearing your baggiest sweatpants. Though it looks comfortable, it's way too hot for you to be so covered up. He makes his way over to your bed and sits beside you. "What's up, mama? Why aren't you hungry, anymore?" He gently squeezes your hip a couple times, hoping maybe it'll make you turn to face him, but you don't. You stay curled up.

"My stomach hurts," you say, unsure of whether he heard you or not. All you know is that if he asked you to repeat yourself, you wouldn't out of frustration. You would just shake your head and go back to hurting in silence.

"Did you eat something bad?" He pauses, a small smile curling onto his lips as something else comes to mind. "Baby... have you eaten anything at all, today?" He knows sometimes you forget to eat because you get so distracted by everything else you have going on, and that pit in your stomach often makes you nauseous.

"No, it's not that. I'm on my period." You internally cringe at the use of the word. Despite the power behind being able to put up with this every single month, you can't help but feel fragile and weak at the thought of letting Toji in on it.

"Oh, doll... You should've told me this before. I would've showed up with much fuller hands." He lays on his side, and wraps his body around yours. His leg goes over yours and his hand goes beneath your hoodie and presses against your stomach. "So, your guts are mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He says, into your back.

"Yeah, a bit," you say, thinking of the stomach clutching cramps you've had for the past couple hours.

"Damn, that's terrible. What about you, huh? Are you mad that I didn't put a baby in you?" He asks, a smile on his lips forming through the unserious question.

You can't deny that, occasionally, you've wondered what your DNA would look like mixed with Toji's in the form of a child. You always envision the cutest little boy with Toji's intense, green eyes and your beautiful hair, and Toji's sharp nose, and your pretty skin tone. You think of how much you would love him, and how you would take on that role of being a devoted and loving mother. You think of how attached you would become to the little munchkin, enough to assume that you would be the one crying on his first day of school, not your child.

"Of course not. I'm not ready to be a mom," you respond, lowly.

Toji would be lying if he said he didn't see himself having kids with you. He often imagines how you would look holding a baby girl that shares a mixture of his and your features. Part of him hopes that your graceful beauty shines, prominently, through those tiny features, but he also knows that it wouldn't be the end of the world if the child ended up looking more like him. To see you holding a mini him would heal something that runs deep in his soul. Regardless of whether your child looks like him or you or it's the perfect blend of both of you, he knows that he'll be begging to cradle them again and again, even if they are the reason he'll be losing sleep. He'll lunge towards them when they stumble and fall, he'll soothe them when they can't sleep, and he'll bear with the messiness and the unstable emotions.

"Good, 'cause..." he sighs and coils even tighter around you. You're starting to feel hot with all those heavy layers on and the additional source of heat that clings to you from behind. "I need to keep you to myself for a much longer while. I can't imagine sharing you with someone else." He smiles when you laugh quietly at the small poke offered to your stomach. "At least, not right now, 'kay?"

"Yeah, okay," you respond, genuinely glad that he feels the way he does. You don't feel ready to take that enormous step either.

"I know that means your periods will keep coming every month, but I can help you in any way you ask me to. You just have to let me know, mama." His voice conveys sincerity and concern. He's serious about you, but he can't stand being shut out like this on things that pertain to your wellbeing.

You wiggle out of his hold and flip over to face him. You smile at him as best you can, despite the storm you feel in your stomach.

"You look small, doll." He chuckles at the way you bring a sleeved hand towards his face. The sleeves of his hoodie are enormous and puffy around your arms.

"Yeah... your sweater was the only thing that was helping, earlier. I felt like the cramps were gonna kill me so I curled up in this because it smells like you."

His smile is so soft. He loves hearing that he was your best source of comfort while you were in pain. "Well, i'm here, now, so you can take that off and curl up with the real thing."

"Mm..." you drop your hand to his chest. "This is keeping me warm and it fits huge on me, so i'm comfortable."

"Come on. I'm warmer and I fit so much bigger on you than this." He grabs the material of his sweater and extends it away from your waist, before letting it go and watching it melt back into a bulky pile on you. "Yeah, this is nothing compared to me, doll. When i'm on top of you, you completely disappear."

You sigh, as if he isn't tempting you at all, but you can already picture the warmth of his body heat and it sounds absolutely divine. "Fine, fine," you grumble, sitting up to pull off the enormous blanket you had been wearing for the past three hours and tossing it towards the end of your bed.

"So, that's why you didn't wanna take it off?" He's no better than the strangers who ogle your body when he takes you out for a date night. Your chest is holding his attention like a puppy with its favorite toy.

"Told you I was comfortable," you say, fixing the twisted strap of your bra before laying back down.

"Did you not want me to see you like this?" He asks, feeling the bare skin of your waist beneath his palm.

"I just feel really gross, Toji. I showered twice and I still feel like I stink, my skin isn't clear, and my body hurts. I never want you to see me this way, but I can't stay away from you every time I go through this."

He sees this as the perfect moment for him to become your heat radiating weighted blanket, and he seizes the opportunity, splaying over you like a net before contracting his limbs around you. He really is bigger than that hoodie with the way he makes your entire body vanish beneath his.

"This..." you laugh, the sound coming out a little choppy due to the newly added weight. "...is much better," you say, your voice a little strained.

"Listen," he says. What he wants to say to you is really important, and he needs you to absorb the information as clearly as possible, so he thinks it's best if his lips are right beneath your ear, just so you don't miss a word he says. "You smell reallyyy good, but you shouldn't be scrubbing your skin raw with too many showers. Also, I didn't even notice the little pimples on your skin 'til you pointed them out. Not that it matters to me, but your skin will clear up in a couple days." He grins at the little giggles that leave you and the slight shake of your shoulders that accompany the sound. "And about the pain... just tell me what you need and I'll get it for you. Anything but a heating pad, because I like whaling on you like this." He pulls away and takes note of the beaming smile on your face. "You heard all of that, right?" He asks, making sure you're not just letting his words go over your head.

"Mhm." You hum, in response. Your hands cup his jaw and pull him closer to you. You pause when he's mere centimeters away from you and just look up at him, adoration clear in your eyes. His gaze flits between your eyes and your lips. You've always been so enticing and appealing to him, regardless of the nonsensical remarks you make about yourself. Toji has every intention of proving that he'll love you the same all the time. This time of the month is no exception.

With a lick to his bottom lip, he takes the leap and kisses you first. You smile as his lips move slowly and gently in tandem with yours. You feel a lot better with Toji around. It feels like he actually melted away your cramps with his presence. You can enjoy him because the pain in your stomach isn't as intense anymore.

He can feel the change in pace of your affection. You're kissing him faster, your hands are balling up the back of his shirt, and your breathing is getting heavier. He decides to take it step further and slides his hands beneath the cups of your bra.

"Does that hurt?" He asks, knowing that it's possible that your breasts feel tender.

"Not at all. Please, keep going. You can even squeeze a little harder," you say, a small laugh following.

"Alright, baby. You wanna take your bra off so I can get in there real good?"

You're a little nervous about where this is headed. You can feel the neediness growing between your thighs, and him touching your breasts like that is only fueling the flame. You don't know if he's innocently trying to soothe the tenderness that vanished a day before the waterfall of blood began or if he's just trying to cop a feel. All you know is that it feels good and that it's a risky decision to take your bra off even if you've already decided to remove it.

"Yeah, I'll take it off," you say, using your elbows to assist you in sitting up. He sits back on his knees as you reach behind you, towards the clasps of your bra. You take a little longer when you notice how he's staring at your chest in anticipation, practically hypnotized as he waits for you to free your tits. You swear you saw his tongue peek out to lick his bottom lip. Those naturally bright eyes of his are dark, the color almost entirely swallowed whole by his enlarged pupils. You have to try not to laugh at how strong his focus is as the cups slide down your chest and the strap ride down your arm.

"Fuuuck, look at you." He's practically drooling as he reaches his hand out to touch. He instantly feels the warmth and softness of your right breast engulf his hand. "You've got a really pretty body, doll. You know I love taking care of it," he purrs, crawling back onto you. You're pushed back onto the bed. Your head falls into the pillows, and you're instantly surrounded by Toji. He leans down, his lips brushing over your jaw while his hands busy themselves with your breasts. "You can't scare me off with a little bit of blood, pretty girl. You can't scare me off at all," he murmurs, letting his lips roam towards your neck. He rolls your buds between his fingers, smirking at the way you shudder at the more intense stimulation. "That feel good?" He asks, hearing the low hums coming from you.

"Mhm... it does." Your cunt throbs with need as he continues tweaking your nipples, brushing them with his thumbs, rolling them with index fingers before pressing them a little. He sucking on that sensitive spot on your neck, really putting in the work to make you want him, badly. "T-Toji..." you whimper.

"Yeah, I know, sweet girl. Just wanna help you feel better." A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest at the feeling of you squeezing your thighs around his waist, chasing friction for your needy cunt. "Need some help with that? Want me to rub your little clit?"

You're too distracted by the pleasure you derive from grinding against his lower abdomen to notice his hand leaving one of your breasts and trailing down your stomach. Just as his fingers go beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, you snap out of your daze.

"No, wait- That's dirty," you say, scooting backwards.

"What are you talking about?" He asks, rhetorically. "It's a part of you. I don't care if any part of me gets covered in your blood."

You look away from him, flustered by his admission. You've never allowed him to touch you down there while you're on your period. This might have been the first time you've directly told him about it, too, so before then, he was just left to assume.

"I'm not a pea brained little boy, and you're not gross for this, baby. Just let me help you feel better."

You contemplate it for a few seconds. You've never done it like this before. The mess would be extreme. You'll be overthinking the things that run through his mind the entire time. Would you even be capable of getting into the mindset necessary to enjoy it when you're so worried about what Toji's thinking?

"Please, mama. Let me make you feel good." He runs a hand over your shin, hoping to soothe your nerves about this.

Your thoughts were starting to loop from how much you were overthinking it. A whole lot of 'what is Toji going to think?' and 'what if he can't go through with it after seeing all of it?' swirling around in your head. The thoughts were going nowhere but down, so you eventually just let yourself go. "Okay," you respond. "Can I just have a minute before we..." you raise your brows, allowing the gesture to finish your sentence.

"Yeah, of course. Take your time." He retracts his hand, allowing you to rise off the bed and make your way to the bathroom.

You're nervous. You don't know what would compel Toji to want to do something like this. You'll accept that it's for your benefit, but what does he gain from this apart from getting a blood covered dick? You know he won't put on a condom. He practically whines every time you tell him to either put a condom on or pull out. Neither of those options are viable for him, so he sweet talks you until you let him go in raw and cum inside you. He always thanks you for staying on birth control. His appreciation is genuine, too. It's not just some douchey speech where he says 'thank you for taking pills so I don't have to stress about cumming inside you'. It's a real, hug and kiss, 'I love you' deserving, appreciation.

You walk out of the bathroom after removing your menstrual product, wearing just the panties you had on and your darkest colored towel wrapped around your hips. That pair of underwear is not your prettiest pair, so you're fine with ruining them so that you don't ruin your carpet on your walk back to the bed.

"Everything alright?" Toji asks, eyes glued on you the second the bathroom door opened.

"Yeah. All good," you assure, sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt as anxious as you did the first time you and Toji had sex together. It was visible in the way you kept your eyes on your folded hands and how you toyed with your thumbs.

"Don't be nervous, baby. It's just like every other time." He smiles at you as you continue to stare at your lap. "You wanna put the towel down?"

"Oh, yeah." The second the towel is unwrapped from your lower body, you feel your anxiety double, knowing that the stain on your underwear is visible. He can see you crossing your legs to try and hide the stain. It's cute, but futile, since he'll see it much more clearly in a few seconds. You're unnecessarily straightening the corners, as if the towel isn't going to be moving around once things get going.

"Good. Now, lay down for me," Toji instructs, the words making your heart drop. "Need you to get all comfortable."

You hesitantly crawl onto the towel and lay on your stomach, concealing the stain on the front of your underwear.

"Flip over, doll. Wanna look at that pretty face." He can tell you're doing everything you can to hide what he expected and already saw. You flip onto your back and cross your legs. "Come on, pretty girl. Don't be embarrassed. It's just me."

You sigh and uncross your legs. Seconds go by and your cheeks are scorching, embarrassment coursing through you so fluidly, not knowing that the sight makes Toji feral. The color, the fact that you're free bleeding and the stain is growing as time goes by, the shame it brings you from not being able to stop it. It's all going straight to his dick. It was already straining in his boxers, but now it's throbbing.

"Good girl," he praises, running his hands up and down your thighs. You feel hot under his gaze. He's not making his attention to your stained underwear subtle at all. You just want to put a pillow over your head and let him do what he has planned.

"You're so cute," he says, reaching a hand towards the loud color between your thighs. He feels the warm wetness beneath his thumb as he tests the waters and rubs your clit through the scarlet tainted garment. He watches you squirm at the touch, your stomach rising and falling erratically at the stimulation. "So warm, baby." He can see the color adhering to the edges of his thumb as he continues to stroke your throbbing clit.

"Toji..." you gasp.

"Yeah, baby. I know."

The smallest pinch between your brows appears as the stimulation continues. It's slow enough to keep you comfortable, but you want more, so you attempt to trap his hand between your thighs so that you can get off on it.

"Open, doll. Keep your pretty legs open for me." He grins at the shuddered breath you release as you release his hand.

"P-Please, Toji. Please, more," you whimper, feeling yourself get closer and closer to your peak.

He's notices how the blood reached higher up the front of your underwear. Right over where he's rubbing your clit, the material is soggy beneath his fingers.

"I'm gonna make you cum all you want, but not like this," he says, abruptly stopping the movement of his fingers. He bows forward and kisses from your slightly heaving mid-center to your lower abdomen. The irony smell of your blood is heavier as he nears the elastic of your panties.

"Let's get these off," he murmurs, hooking his fingers into the garment. Your heart is racing all over again at the thought of him seeing the whole thing, uncensored. The uncontrollable drip of your blood, the messy aftermath of it being smeared and played with by his fingers over the thin barrier of your underwear. It's not presentable, compared to what he got from you every moment before this one. Far from it, but he proceeds with his fearless curiosity, dragging your panties down your hips and thighs, above your knees and swiftly down the rest of the way. He puts them down beside you on the towel before carrying on with you.

In no way would he ever try to embarrass you over something like this, especially since he knows you're more emotionally sensitive right now and even the smallest amount of teasing might hit a little harder than intended. He looks at the overload of red smeared all over your cunt, on the folds, lathered over and through your slit, and streaked over your inner thighs. All he can think about is how cursed you must feel every once in a while to have to go through this every month. He's not stupid enough to think alike to those men who say they would bear the pain a lot better than women and that it's nothing compared to being kicked in the balls. He would take the pain for you in a heartbeat, but since science hasn't progressed so far to make that option a reality, he'll do what he can to help you in other ways.

You watch, intently, as Toji observes what he's seen plenty of times before. You feel different from every one of those times, despite him telling you that this time will be no different. You feel like your heart is about to lurch from your chest because all he's doing is looking. You know it's unappealing. You would give yourself to him entirely clean in this moment if you could.

"I wanna bury my face in there so badly. You know that?" He's so hard at the sight. His dick is twitching at the thought of using his tongue to clean you up. "I'll make it up to you in a couple days," he says, working his constricting boxers off. "Gonna feast on you. Hold these pretty thighs back when you try to crush my skull."

You don't think you've ever felt so withheld by him. Here he is, about to fuck you during one of the few days you refrain from letting him touch you this way, while talking about how badly he wants to devour you. You wouldn't call it unfair of him to tease you with this promise, he just has no other choice. Normally, his mouth is the first thing he gives you when things are getting hot and heavy, but for now, he can only use that mouth to kiss you and verbalize his desire.

"Don't look so nervous, doll," he says, his voice honeyed and his touch gentle on your skin, like he's shooing away all those negative thoughts that threaten your ability to enjoy this. "This is me taking care of you."

Toji did a good job of making you forget that this wasn't just normal sex. You were fed assurance, visually, audibly, and tactically. The second he thrusted into you and felt your incredibly warm and wet walls cling around him, his gaze darted up to meet your eyes. He looked back down for a split second when his hips pulled back, just to see the way you coated his shaft.

He understands that this is intense for you, that you're presenting yourself in a vulnerable state to him, but he's determined to make you understand that he will always try for you. It comes down to him knowing your wants and needs, and when they aren't so transparent, he counts on you to trustfully tell him about the things he can't openly assume.

He's overly generous with your pleasure, going on and on for you, chasing your orgasms with no intention of stopping until you tell him you've had enough. "Come on..." he groans, a deep chuckle following when he sees the way your arms are thrown over your face. "Come on, doll. Give me some attention." He's saying this because he's about to cum, again. He wants to look at you as he spews another load into you. He wants to see the expression on your face when you feel his cum overfill you, again. You lift your arms above your head and expose the way your chest heaves even more to him, but more importantly, the weary and glassy eyes he loves so much.

"Yeah, fuck... Just give me those eyes for a while, gorgeous." He's panting and his hips are stuttering as he stares you down, his lust-filled gaze giving you the illusion of being pressed into the mattress. One hand splays over your waist while the other focuses on nudging at your clit.

The added stimulation makes you jolt beneath his touch. It's heavenly and you want more, and you're right there. "F-Fuck... Fuck, please... Please!" you beg, feeling like you're melting beneath his touch. Your nails dig into the pillow beneath your head in an attempt to stay still for him.

"I know, mama. I know. I got you," he coos through choppy breaths, rubbing your clit fast enough to have you squirming against him. He watches dazedly as fresh crimson decorates his fingertips, anew. The pace of his hips becomes sporadic with his own peak nearing. He's about to bust again with the way your gummy, lubricated walls snuggly wrap around him.

With just a couple more thrusts and the ongoing stimulation offered to your clit, you gush all over him again, a mixture of your cum and blood rushing out of you and onto him before dripping onto the towel beneath you. "Oh my- T-Toji, oh fuck!" Your back arches off the bed, your head thrown back into the pillow as you cry out in pure ecstasy.

Toji is pulling you into his quickened thrusts, putting your tired, pretty body to work so that he can finish, too. He's following after you just a minute later, a deep, growl-like groan leaving him as more of his thick cum is shot into your ruined cunt. His chest rises and falls, long, heavy breaths exhaled through his parted lips. his neck glistens with sweat and dampened strands of hair stick to his forehead.

"How are your guts?" He asks, his words still somewhat breathy as he works to recompose himself after pulling out of you.

"Good," you respond, echoing back that tiredness. "Out of place, but good. That... that did it. No more pain." You think that if you shut your eyes for longer than ten seconds, you'll doze off. As if Toji would let you wake up feeling dirtier than you did before you let him get his hands on you.

"Hey," he calls, tapping your outer thigh. You hum in disapproval of having to open your eyes again. "Doll, we have to get you cleaned up." He taps you again.

"Five minutes," you whine, shutting your eyes tightly before pulling the pillow out from beneath your head and throwing it over your face.

"None of the whining, mama. It's for the best and you know it." He doesn't go on because you don't respond, presumably dozed off. He pulls the pillow off your face and becomes the target of your pointed gaze when light floods your vision again. "I'm not gonna stop bugging you until you get up." He's fighting the urge to tease you about wanting a kiss for that alluring pout on your lips. "Don't you wanna take a nice and cool shower with me?"

"I'm stuck," you groan, exaggeratedly dropping your arm after your feigned weak attempt to move more than a couple inches. "Can't... move."

"Your level of drama outshines the best actors, doll. I see right through it."

You can't even hold back a giggle at that. You clutch your chest and continue on with the theatrics. "Ouch. My stomach doesn't hurt anymore, but there's suddenly a really sharp pain in my chest. So, this is what taken back love feels like, huh?"

Toji snickers at the sound of your pathetic words as he crosses the ends of the towel over your lower body. Once the towel is wrapped securely, his arm goes beneath your knees, and the other settles on your lower back. With one swift motion, he lifts you off the bed and starts for the bathroom. He knew you had no intention of moving on your own, so he took the initiative. "Now you're a poet? You would never make it through heartbreak poetry." He looks down at you with a sly grin. "You would be making it all up, because you know how much I love your dramatic self."

You laugh. "Yeah... i'll never be a heartbreak poet." You don't sound like you're at a loss at all. You said it with a smile on your face. You've never been more happy to have lost a path like that.

"That's too bad, isn't it?"

[pomefioredove]

If the flirtatious lines event is still happening, I do have a little request, and this is absolutely not forced!

Could you do “You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?” With Leona x reader? Here’s a little twist, though; The reader is the one saying that to Leona! I absolutely adore the idea of Leona being super shy when in love, seeing normally tough characters be out-of-character when they have a crush is ADORABLE to me! Plus, I don’t see enough of reader being the teasing one in Leona x reader fics.

Thank you for listening, have a lovely day/night!

ooh this makes SO much sense though, I see your vision!!

summary: "you’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?" type of post: short fic characters: leona additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, probably really ooc idk

It's not the first time you've run into him, and it won't be the last.

It was annoying at first; your clumsiness, and that perpetual look of confusion and awe in your eyes...

You didn't belong here.

That was the first thing Leona thought about you.

Your good nature, the way you stupidly stumbled into trouble time and time again, even that look on your face; you'd make an easy meal for any predator.

And, as luck would have it, that would be him.

Though he certainly doesn't feel like the top of the food chain now.

"Talk to them," Ruggie pesters, hovering around his boss like a fly. Leona is tempted to swat him away.

"No,"

He puts a hand on his hip. "I don't see what the big deal is. You deal with being a prince your whole life, but you get choked up at the Prefect?"

Annoying. Leona is tempted to make a rude gesture, but his social etiquette gets the best of him.

"I am not choked up, but you're going to be unless you get lost," he says in a tone far too quiet.

He's lucky that Leona is in a merciful mood today.

"Suit yourself," Ruggie shrugs, sticking his hands in his pockets and heading towards the exit.

Good. Leona didn't come here to talk about the Prefect, anyway.

Of all the stupid things...

He lies back in his original position, trying to drown out the sound of your voice and get some sleep. You're here with a group, doing some potionology thing, he figures. Great.

One of your friends makes you laugh, and he feels a strange sense of jealousy.

"I'll get the poppy," you sound rather pleased with yourself.

Though, as hard as he tries, he can't seem to dislike you.

A rustle, and then another beam of sunlight hits the secluded little spot, illuminating the both of you.

"Oh!" you say, eyes wide. "Sorry, Leona. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Always so polite. He wonders if that's just for show, or if you're being genuine.

"Mhm," he hums. He can't find it within himself to tell you off. It's like he's forgotten how to speak.

And he can't look at you.

"It's not over here..." you say under your breath. You're not even doing anything and he finds you endearing. "Well... sorry again."

Ruggie's words are still fresh in his mind- the pest- and he sighs.

"Wait," Leona says, standing. "You're looking for poppy? I know where it is."

You seem to hesitate. Not a good sign. "...I don't want to trouble you..."

"It would be more rude to turn down such a generous offer," he rebuffs. That's more like it.

And, so, you follow him. It feels nice, stringing you along for once.

Leona says nothing. With anyone else, he would've made at least one comment by now- no, with anyone else, he wouldn't have offered his help in the first place.

He brings you to another part of the botanical gardens, and shows you a row of potted poppies. Crewel had the second years move them yesterday.

"Ah, here they are. Thank you!" you smile. It's almost... cute. Ugh.

He says nothing.

You collect your material, and begin the walk back with him. He can feel your eyes on him, and he can tell there's something you want to ask.

"...You don't say much,"

Great. Leona huffs. Why does he feel so hot, all of a sudden? "I just have nothing to say,"

Even he sounds unsure of what he's claiming. You raise an eyebrow, a small smile gracing your lips.

"You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?"

And you're driving me mad, he thinks, but all he can do is grunt in response.

He feels nervous. Always so nervous around you.

Leona would never admit what those words did to him, but he didn't need to. He could feel the embarrassment on his face.

You stop at the mouth of the gardens. Your friends are waiting outside.

"Thanks again," you smile. It's genuine. He can't keep eye contact with you.

"...Sure,"

"Just, ah..." you say, looking between him and your puny first year friends as they call you over. "Let me know what I can do to repay the favor, okay?"

So naive. You're practically serving yourself on a silver platter. Like he originally thought, an easy meal for any predator.

...But, for once, that predator isn't him.

And he's actually going to have to work for this.

[lanadelnegan]

Tattoo - part 2 (final)

Teacher!Negan x F!Reader

Summary: After your art teacher gives you a tattoo that will always remind you of him, he wants a matching one. But he wants you to give it to him.. while you "give it to him."

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap, p in v, blowjob, teacher-student relationship, giving Negan a tattoo while you ride him, (if teacher-student relationships and/or age-gaps are not your thing, please do not read.)

Part one here

Finally posting this after a century! Sorry it took so long. xx

“Are you insane?!” I stood with the tattoo gun in my hand, mouth dropped open as I watched him get comfortable on the leather couch. He sat shirtless with his legs spread perfectly apart.

“Probably.” He grinned, flashing his pretty teeth and deeply ingrained dimples that I've become obsessed with over the years.

“Seriously.. Negan.. I’ve never tattooed someone before, obviously, and-“

His head fell to the side as if he didn't want to hear my excuses. “You’ve taken my art class four times. More than any other student at that damn school. Did you learn anything, or were you too busy fantasizing about the teacher?" He smirked.

"... I didn't learn how to give someone a tattoo."

"No different than drawing, baby."

"I can barely do that." I shrugged. "Why did you even pass me?"

Negan let out a chuckle, leaning his head back against the couch for a moment. "I think we both know the answer to that." We both fell silent as I looked unsure about what he was asking me to do.

“I’ll start it. Would that make you feel better?” He asked. I nodded, knowing there’s no way I could do this by myself.

“Hand me that pen over there?” He nodded towards his desk. I grabbed a purple outline pen to give him and he took the cap off with his teeth before easily drawing the most perfect baseball bat I've ever seen on his chest right about his left nipple. He tossed the pen aside and started the tattoo gun, bringing it close to his chest.

“Stop.” I blurted. “You don’t have to do this.”

Negan scrunched his brows at me. “I don’t do anything I don’t wanna do, sweetheart.” He said before carving a small line over the purple outline on his skin, not flinching an ounce. He stopped after making a small mark on his skin, then handed me the tattoo gun while patting his lap for me to sit.

He can’t seriously want me to sit in his lap while I permanently mark his body.

“Take your clothes off first, baby. Give me something to look at while we do this.”

I sat the tattoo gun to the side before slowly undressing for him until I was completely bare and cold, shivering in front of him.

“Mm, so fucking beautiful.” He praised, seeing my perky nipples on display for him. I noticed the straining bulge in his pants before I even sat down. I straddled him carefully and settled into his lap while facing him, cautiously holding the tattoo gun in my hand.

“You got this, darlin’.” He encouraged me, probably because I looked like I could faint any second. Sitting in my hot teacher's lap and tattooing his chest wasn’t something I thought I'd ever do.

“What if-“ I started but he cut me off.

“I don’t care.” He said in almost a whisper. “You could draw little hearts and fuckin' butterflies all over me, and I wouldn’t care as long as you’re hovering that sweet pussy over me. The tat? Is the last thing on my mind right now, doll.”

With that, I brought it to his skin and began making a line before I could talk to myself out of it. I felt Negan’s eyes burning into me, and his face was close enough to mine for me to smell the mint and tobacco on his mouth. Negan let out a breath that resembled a moan when the needle tore through his flesh.

"Does it hurt?" I asked, continuing my surprisingly impressive line.

"No." His voice was hoarse and raspy. "Feels fucking good."

I felt the bulge in his pants grow bigger underneath me and wanted to grind against him but couldn't move without possibly messing up. Negan watched me intensely before I felt his hand drift down to my center. I shivered when he ran a finger through my wet slit and saw him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"Negan. I need to be still. I'm not messing this up."

"Then be still, darlin'. Don't mind me." I heard the zipper of his pants and glanced at him, giving him a silent warning that whatever he was about to do wasn't a good idea.

Negan grabbed my wrist gently and I pulled my hand away from his chest as he lifted my hips slightly and guided me over his length. I sat down completely, taking him so deep that it hurt.

"Negan.." I moaned, and he moaned with me, keeping us still and not moving while his cock was all the way inside me.

"Finish what you started, baby." He said, gesturing to the tattoo gun still in my hand. Hesitantly I started again, going slower this time. I felt his cock twitch inside me when the needle hit his skin, and almost whimpered at how full he made me feel, pressing tightly into my walls.

"You never answered my question, doll."

"Hm?" I asked, focusing on the tattoo and trying to ignore the throbbing sensation in my cunt.

"Did you learn anything in my class?"

I smiled for a moment, thinking of a clever answer. "Of course. I learned that.. I wanted you. Safe to say I did more fantasizing than listening to you yap about art, although listening to your deep voice did help with the fantasies." I giggled.

"Yeah?" He asked, tightening his grip on my hips as he fought the urge to thrust his hips upwards. "What exactly did you fantasize about, doll?"

"So much. But.. my favorite was thinking of you bending me over your desk. Or sucking your cock underneath your desk while others were around and had no idea."

"Fuuck." Negan breathed out heavily as he rested his head back against the couch. "Keep going, baby. I want to hear more."

"I would always stare at the front of your pants."

"I noticed." He chuckled.

"And I'd imagine what it looked like. How big you were."

"Yeah? What do you think? Was it what you imagined?"

"Bigger." I said truthfully, getting close to being finished with the tattoo.

"Sweetheart, I need you to hurry the fuck up and finish. My dick is gonna fucking explode if I don't move soon."

"Already done." I pulled the gun back and smiled, admiring my work and being pleasantly surprised. "Take a look."

Negan ripped the gun out of my hand and tossed it on the floor. "Later. Bounce on my fuckin' dick, now." He said desperately as he adjusted himself lower on the couch.

I happily obeyed him, placing my hands on his shoulders, being careful not to touch his reddening pecs. It felt so good to finally move up and down on his cock, so I dropped my head back and rode him fast and hard while my tits bounced in his face.

Negan leaned forward and took my nipple into his mouth, slurping around it and groaning as I fucked him. I screamed out, knowing we were the only ones there and I could be as loud as I wanted.

"Fuuuck, baby." He said breathlessly, leaning back again and looking up at me. "You look so fuckin' pretty with my dick inside you." His thumb dug into my hips, brushing against my fresh tattoo that now matched his own.

"Negan! I'm gonna cum!" I cried out, letting my orgasm rip through me while my legs shook and collapsed until I sank all the way down on him again, not able to hold myself up.

"Goddamn! Look at the mess you made all over me." He said proudly and I looked down between us, seeing the pool of wetness where our bodies were connected.

"Sorry.." I said, blushing.

He hummed, looking up at you. "I don't believe you. Why don't you get on your knees and clean up your mess? Show daddy how sorry you are?"

He kissed me before I climbed off his lap and onto my knees in the floor, settling between his spread legs. His cock stood tall between his legs and I finally got a chance to admire it. Wrapping my hand around it, I stroked him slowly, studying every vein in his impressive length. I imagined the sight of this for so long, and I wanted to enjoy it.

Pushing his hard cock away, I dipped my head between his crotch and sucked one of his large balls into my mouth, moaning around it. Negan's leg twitched at the sudden sensitivity as he gently wrapped his hand in my hair.

"Shit, baby. Been awhile since someone's had my balls in their mouth. Forgot how - oh, fuck - how good it feels."

I gave the other one some attention before finally licking up his shaft until I reached the tip, wrapping my mouth firmly around his thick head. He tasted like a mix of my pussy and his precum and it was the most heavenly thing I had ever experienced. I savored it as I took him as far as I could in the back of my throat, gagging slightly before pulling back. I continued this for awhile, taking turns sucking and stroking him until my mouth was dripping with spit and his dick was soaked.

"Ohhh fuck, baby, you ready for my cum?" He said quickly, guiding my head back to his cock. He let out a loud, strained groan as I felt him empty himself down my throat. I moaned around him, not pulling away until every drop was swallowed.

Negan leaned down, wrapping his hand around my throat and pulling me towards him for a kiss. I slipped my tongue in his mouth, letting him taste us and his eyes fluttered shut.

"I should have failed you." He signed when he finally broke away from the kiss.

"What? Why?"

"Art won't be the same without you. I dunno if I want to teach anymore now that you're graduating."

"Don't be silly. You've always loved art."

Negan chuckled, pulling me into his lap again. "No.. I've always loved you."

Tag list: (let me know if you wanted to be added to my future negan fic tag list)

@loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[willowsnook]

Right Place, Right Time (pt. 1) Lando Norris

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

new series featuring lando x american reader who works for Monster. This will be a slow burn!!!!!!! patience

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

When performance review time came around at work you were disappointed to hear that there weren't going to be any raises this time around. As a top performer on the marketing team you were disappointed but it had been a tough year. As a consolation prize, your manager had put your name in the hat to win a trip to the Dutch Grand Prix which you thought was kind of random but your company was a McLaren sponsor and it was all expenses paid so whatever. You kind of followed F1 so when you got the email that you had won you were excited. Even more excited that it was not going to be 90 degrees outside like it currently was in Texas.

You landed in Zandvoort on Thursday night and were up bright and early on Friday to get the whole tour and all. You had never been to a race so it was pretty cool and you liked getting to walk around the paddock looking at all the other teams stuff. You snapped a million of selfies to send back to your sister who you knew was foaming at the mouth in jealousy.

You didn't really care about watching the practices so around 3 you headed back to McLaren to find your stuff and go. As you were turning the corner in a hallway you ran right smack into someone else causing you to drop your phone.

"Omg I'm so sorry," you said reaching down to pick it up. When you stood up you were face to face with Lando Norris, one of the McLaren drivers. He looked sad, like really sad. Like the kind of sad you would be if someone stole your dog.

"Are you good dude?" You asked unsure. He gave you a weak smile mumbling something out, his voice cracking.

"Hey hey it's okay," you soothed putting your hand on his arm. "it's only practice ya know." You tried to joke and he met your eyes with his own watery ones.

"It's okay," he said. "Just a bad day, are you looking for someone or something?" You nodded.

"Yeah I need my bag but honestly I'm kind of lost in here," you said.

"It's probably in hospitality, I can walk you there?" He offered and you smiled.

"That would be great," you said following him the way he came from. You walked in silence and you were trying to rack your brain on anything you knew about this guy. You remembered seeing some shit on twitter about him before summer break and a lot of not nice things.

"So what brings you to Zandvoort?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"I work for Monster Energy, and I won a raffle," you said and he let out a laugh.

"You must be a big F1 fan then?" He asked and you shook your head.

"Not really, I watch the races but I just wanted a vacation."

Someone was walking out of hospitality as you were walking in and stopped to talk to Lando.

"We need to talk about today," they said sternly. "Find me later."

You felt Lando deflate next to you but he nodded and guided you in the room. No one else was in there and you quickly grabbed your bag.

"Well there you ar-"

"Why do you like racing?" You interrupted him and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Uhh.. I don't know," he said and you waited. "I've always been in love with cars and the feeling I get. It's like everything else fades away and it's just me."

"Do you still feel that way?" You asked and he nodded.

"For the most part, the pressure and the things said online get loud though," he said quietly.

"Can I be honest with you?" You asked and he nodded.

"I'll never know what it's like to be in your position," you started. "But these people online don't know you. Yes they know the you that your PR team puts out and what you post but they don't know your character. They don't know who you are inside and they probably never will. But you have people here that do know you. People that do care about you and want you to succeed. Drown out the noise with them because those are the people that matter."

He stared at you not saying anything and you started to get the itch of feeling awkward and then to make it worse he quickly looked away and swiped at his eyes.

"Oh my god I made you cry," you panicked. "I'm so sorry I overstepped I don't know you."

He let out a little laugh looking back at you with red rimmed eyes.

"It's a good thing," he said. "It's hard for me to remember sometimes and it's nice to be seen as a human by someone."

You smiled before holding up your bag.

"Well I got this, so I'm going to go but good luck tomorrow," you said.

"Thank you," he replied. "You never told me your name?"

"Y/n," you said holding out your hand and he shook it. "See ya around."

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

You skipped out on the qualifying sessions on Saturday to hang out and relax in Zandvoort but you were really excited for Sunday. You got the the paddock really early and made a beeline for hospitality to get a much needed coffee. As you were waiting for it to finish pouring you heard someone speak next to you.

"I love those pants, where did you get them from?"

You turned around to see a girl maybe a couple years younger than you with long brown hair wearing a creme top and jeans. You looked down at your own dark jeans that fitted you perfectly if you do say so yourself.

"Thank you!" You said smiling. "They are from Abercrombie's curve line."

"Ahh nice," she said moving to start her own coffee.

"Yeah I spend too much money there," you said.

"I never really got into it," she said.

"I wasn't as a kid because they hated fat people back then but thank god for change," I joked and she let out a loud laugh.

"I'm Lily," she said and you introduced yourself back. "Visiting from the US?"

"Yeah, I won a work raffle so here I am," you said and she nodded.

"Are you watching from the garage?" She asked and you shook your head.

"I'm supposed to but I really want to be in the stands so I think I'm going to sneak in."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"You wouldn't want to watch from down here?" She asked confused.

"No all the real action is out there with all the other fans," you told her. "Have you never sat there?"

She shook her head.

"Well if you're interested in joining me just let me know!" You offered before waving goodbye.

You spent the next hour wandering the paddock soaking in the atmosphere. About 30 minutes before the race starts you see Lily coming up to you with a burly guy.

"I think I am going to join you," she said. "But he has to come too so that nothing happens."

"Awesome," you say and she smiles. You two start walking towards the stands talking the whole way but are intercepted by a McLaren driver.

"Where are you going?" He asks Lily, looking confused.

"We are watching from the stands," she said pulling him in for a hug. He kisses her but looks worried.

"But why?"

"Because it's the full experience Osc," she said and he looked towards the bodyguard who shrugged. "This is y/n by the way, she works for Monster."

A look of realization washes over his face and he reaches out to shake your hand.

"You talked to Lando yesterday?" He asked and you nodded.

"Briefly yeah," you replied quizzingly.

"Hmm," he said and Lily looked at you confused. "Well I have to go but be safe and I'll see you after."

He left the two of you to get back to walking.

"So you met Lando?" She asked.

"Yeah I ran into him and gave him a little pep talk." This made her laugh.

"A pep talk? Do you know him?" She asked looking at you with amusement.

"No, he was just giving off really sad energy," you said truthfully and she sighed.

"Yeah he's going through a hard time."

You nodded. The bodyguard led you two to a row that had clearly been predetermined and motioned for you to file in.

"Isn't this exciting?" You asked taking it all in. The stands were electric.

"It is pretty cool," she said, here nerves easing.

You both were disappointed to see Lando lose his place at the start but amazed after lap 18. The middle was kind of boring except for when Oscar would come around so you and Lily spent the time getting to know each other. You told her about your life in Texas and she told you about life as a WAG. She gave you her number and made you promise to text her especially for the Austin GP. At the end of the race you both screamed like crazy when Lando crossed the link and made your way down to the podium area. It was very cool getting to see it in person.

You walked back to the garage with Lily and said your goodbyes as she went to find Oscar. As you were getting ready to head out you saw Lando across the garage and you gave him a big thumbs up. He laughed and smiled returning the sign.

Your flight was early the next morning so you headed back to your hotel to get ready to go back to real life.

[shirefantasies]

LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)

Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)

Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol

Aragorn

✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.

✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.

✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.

✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.

✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.

✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.

Legolas

✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”

✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!

✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.

✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.

✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!

✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.

Boromir

✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.

✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.

✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.

✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.

✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”

✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!

Gimli

✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."

✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!

✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.

✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!

✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!

✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"

Frodo

✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.

✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.

✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.

✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!

✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.

✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.

Sam

✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.

✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.

✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.

✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.

✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.

✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”

Merry

✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”

✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!

✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…

✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!

✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.

✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.

Pippin

✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!

✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.

✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."

✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.

✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!

✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.

Faramir

✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."

✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.

✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.

✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.

✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.

✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.

Eomer

✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.

✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.

✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.

✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.

✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!

✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.

Eowyn

✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.

✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.

✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.

✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.

✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.

✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.

Haldir

✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.

✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.

✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.

✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.

✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.

✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.

Galadriel

✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.

✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.

✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.

✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!

✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.

✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.

Arwen

✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.

✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"

✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."

✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.

✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.

✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.

Elrond

✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.

✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.

✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!

✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.

✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.

✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.

Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

[babygorewhore]

Sit down. Evan Peters smut.

Your older boyfriend has been growing out his facial hair for a while. And he asks something of you. Something you’ve resisted before. What happens next? Requested by anonymous! I’m finally posting this! Next I’m gonna take the next few days to work on my requests!

WARNINGS! Oral! Fem receiving. Face riding.

Evan hadn’t shaved in almost a month, his beard growing more and more as the days went on. You were always attracted to him. But now? He looked so manly. Shedding his appearance as a boy. Which he was far from, but the beard…mmm. It looked so good on him.

You both sat on the bed, he was reading through a magazine as the tv was long forgotten. You were on your phone scrolling through tik tok, still bugging him to get one.

“Sorry, babe. I’m afraid that’s where our age difference comes in.” He grinned at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, old man.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, gently brushing against his scruff.

“Do you like it? The beard, I mean?” Evan questioned. You paused, sensing his insecurity.

“Of course, I like it, baby. It looks good.” You cooed at him. He leaned down and kissed you, softly at first before he found your lips and grazed his teeth against your lower lip.

“Oh yeah?” He asked you.

Evan gently leaned on you, his weight pressing against your body as he continued kissing you. You felt his beard against your chin, but the scratch comforted you.

“I fucking love kissing you.” He breathed. His hand raising to gently squeeze your breast. You sucked in a breath.

Evan sucked on your lower lip as he kneaded your chest. Your core pooled at his attention as he brushed his tongue against your teeth.

You met his kiss, his tongue diving in your mouth and tasted you throughly. “Can you do something for me?” He asked against your mouth.

“Anything.” You answered, your hand against the back of his head.

“Can you…please sit on my face?” He asked. You froze, mid kiss.

He had asked you before and you refused. You couldn’t possibly. You felt way too heavy for him. You would probably crush his neck.

“Evan…” you started and he pressed a finger against your lips.

“Baby, you’re not going to crush me. I promise. You’re not too heavy. I know you’re insecure. But trust me. I can handle it. Please, I’m dying to taste you. I’ve been wanting this all day.” He trailed his lips down your neck, finding your pulse point.

His hands found your hips as his fingers tightened along them, as he guided you to sit up. You hesitated as he laid down, his eyes darkened impossibly. Evan helped you straddle his chest, pulling your oversized t shirt above your belly. “It’s okay, baby girl. Please? Please come here. I want to taste how sweet you are.”

You swallowed, still unsure. Evan gripped your thighs.

You were thicker than him, something you were always afraid that he wouldn’t find attractive. You hated that, you felt so uncomfortable whenever he held you on his lap, or picked you up. But he never let you speak badly about yourself, always reassuring you that he thought you were beautiful. Sexy, even.

“Sweetheart.” Evan reached forward, cupping your chin, making you look at him. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re not hurting me. You’re not too heavy. It feels so good, do you want me to beg?”

Your eyes widened. “What?” Evan smirked at you before he toyed with the band of your underwear.

“Please, baby. Please, fuck my face. It’ll make you feel so good, I promise. I need it.” He whispered to you, slowly lifting you higher on his chest. Your hands fell to his shoulders, as you hovered above him, your underwear pulled to your separated knees.

Evan leaned up, you felt his beard brush against your pussy. You almost pulled away. But Evan’s hands went to your ass. “Fucking sit.” He breathed, before bringing you down on his mouth.

You immediately felt his tongue driving up, circling your clit as your thighs straddled his face. Your hips buckled, but your cheeks warmed as he slurped and sucked your sensitive bud. He moaned deep within his throat as he head moved up and down. His tongue dipped inside you, tasting you deep as his beard lightly scratched your inner thighs.

“Evan-“ you squeaked as your hands splayed on his chest, as he desperately thrusted his tongue against your clit.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He groaned, his hands finding your hips as he rolled them. You tossed insecurities aside and started humping his face.

Your slick coated his chin as you moved against his face, your pleasure growing inside your stomach. Evan quickened his pace as you reached forward to grip the headboard. Your head pressed against it as your pelvis buckled as he flicked his tongue against your folds.

“I’m gonna-“ you stuttered.

“Please do.” Evan begged. You moved your hips up and down, Evan whimpered at the pressure and you shuddered as your release came.

You chased your orgasm as your movements became sloppy and Evan held your lower back so tight you thought he would break you. You moved to get off but he still held you in place.

“I’m not done.” He whined, continuing lapping at your pussy as he licked your leftover climax.

“I can’t-Evan please. I need a break.” You said to him and he finally stopped.

You climbed off, back on the bed beside him and you glanced at his crotch. But you saw the wet patch staining his sweatpants. “Did you-“

“Yeah.” He said, a slightly blush creeping his cheeks. “It was so hot, I couldn’t contain myself.”

You nodded and he snuggled closer to your side, trailing his fingers against your arms.” You did really good, baby. I really liked it.” He confessed.

“You promise?” You looked at him through your lashes.

“Yes,” he reached forward and kissed you. Savoring your lips with the aftermath of your taste.

Taglist. @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @icannot3 @randodummy @howtobesasha @evanptrss

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Bloodhound

Also on AO3

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

Summary: Before meeting the ghoul, you worked as a courier. After striking a mutually beneficial deal with him, you become a bounty hunter, but it’s clear that your dynamic is much more complicated than that.

WC: 2.5k words

Warnings: MINORS DNI THIS FIC IS 18+, pet play (implied), porn with little plot, dom/sub dynamics, mentions of violence, both praise and degradation, light dehumanization, the ghoul calls you ‘mutt’, unprotected p in v (DO NOT), radiated creampie (dw they use radaway after the fic is over lmao), oral (m receiving), aaaand thats all i can think of but lmk if i missed anything!

A/N: Shoutout to @finniestoncrane who posted an amazing fic w/ the same kink that made me feel brave enough to post this dirty lil fic i could not get out of my head these past weeks :D

——————

A loud, high pitched whistle made you pause mid-sentence. You recognized it as a sign that time was almost up, and you better get some answers before he lost his patience altogether.

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment before looking back at the small shop’s vendor. 

“You said you heard he was going north?” You asked.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes, heard him mention something about one of those mini-marts. You know the kind. There’s two on the way to Shady Sands that might be worth checking.”

You swallowed hard, but hid your discomfort. “And he was gone yesterday morning? Alone?”

“Yeah, as far as I know he arrived alone, too.”

“You weren’t curious enough to ask?”

“Not the kind to ask raiders more questions than I need to.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. He had no reason to be helping raiders, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t have other reasons to lie. 

He cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. He’d been eyeing the clunky, collar-like tracking device around your neck, unsure of what it meant or who exactly was tracking you. Clearly, he didn’t intend to find out.

“Alright, I’ve told you enough. You better get out of here before anyone else starts asking questions.”

You nodded once, knowing better than to push your luck. You took three caps out of a hidden pouch on your belt and tossed them at him. 

“Thanks,” you said, turning on your heel and making your way back out of the narrow alleyway.

The ghoul was leaning against the wall just out of view, the brim of his hat pulled low. You caught the edge of his grin as you approached, and he pushed off the wall to fall into step next to you.

“Well?” He asked, keeping his voice low and casual.

You relayed the information you’d acquired about the target — a bounty he’d picked up a few days earlier, at another settlement. A raider had wreaked havoc there and killed two in the process, so the families were looking for some justice.

Easy enough to take care of, the ghoul had figured, and all for a decent price. So he’d immediately put you on his trail, as he always did. Much easier for smoothies to be asking questions and actually get some answers — Not everyone tolerated his kind.

You had a few opinions on what to do next, but you kept them to yourself, knowing he wouldn’t want them unless he’d specifically asked. He hummed, the gears in his mind already turning. 

You peered at him sideways, wondering what his strategy would be. He didn’t often let you in on them unless it was necessary, but based on what you’d experienced so far, you at least trusted his cleverness.

“Good girl, that’s real useful,” he said finally, seemingly satisfied with what he was coming up with.

He flicked your chin up with his knuckle in what could almost be called affection, but not quite. You carefully hid the secret pleasure you felt at his praise, averting your gaze. Somehow, even at his meanest, he always managed to make it sound so good — at least in the same way a bruise felt good.

Formerly, in your life as a courier, you’d been severely underestimated many times. Traveling alone, especially, had its disadvantages, but it wasn’t brute strength that had so far kept you alive. You were cunning too, in your own way. 

Always keenly observant of your surroundings, picking up clues that most would miss. You were generally pretty reserved anyway, preferring to stay quiet and listen. It was easy for you to blend in with your surroundings, seemingly harmless, and people often let their guard down around you. Big mistake on their part.

The ghoul had taken notice of you, though. It had been months ago, at some repurposed saloon further up north, where there was a lot of foot traffic. It was really easy to get jobs there, or exchange information, so you often passed through. As it happened, so did he, and he’d kept an eye out after you initially caught his attention.

Once he’d learned just how useful you’d actually be to him, well… he just couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. He had a certain way with words, exuding charm, knowing very well how to get what he wanted. Despite most people’s apprehension of ghouls, you didn’t really mind them as long as they weren’t feral and trying to bite your face off. 

Clearly, he wasn’t that type. So, you’d made an agreement of sorts with him, splitting the profits sixty-forty for every bounty fulfilled. Easy money, you figured, and some company to boot. More safety in numbers, after all, especially with someone as skilled as him. 

But from the get go, he always made it abundantly clear that he was the one calling the shots. There had been no room for argument on that, though strangely enough, you had felt a certain sense of freedom by submitting to it.

The tracking device he’d clasped around your neck soon after was just a little extra precaution, he had said. You had relatively free rein, but still he didn’t let you stray too far. And if you did, then his lasso would work as a makeshift leash to drag you back. 

Later on, when you’d developed a system of communication without words – especially for greater distances – you realized it’d felt more like training, in a way. Bending you to his will, sometimes with more charm, others with what he called discipline. And soon enough, after nights of growing closeness and a simmering tension, rewards also came into play. 

In the end, it all worked out, and before you knew it, the two of you were running like a well oiled machine. The hunter and his bloodhound. 

You started the trek north, taking advantage of the daylight. You kept your eyes peeled for any distinct tracks or other clues. When you saw an old, rundown shack in the near distance, you glanced back at him and then trotted off as soon as he nodded. 

Once you’d cleared it, you returned to where he was and continued on your way. Three more times, you checked abandoned buildings, but there was nothing of note in any of them. 

The first mini-mart you arrived at turned out to be more useful. The ghoul helped you interrogate a couple of raiders you’d found holing up there. They weren’t very forthcoming at first, but you left the jostling to him, given that it was his specialty. 

Soon enough, he managed to knock a couple of answers out of them, and then you were on your way again. You settled in an abandoned, half-collapsed house for the evening, a fire burning before the sun even finished setting. 

He sat on the other side of it, silently sharpening his machete, lost in thought. You looked off into the middle distance, unbothered by the quiet. It was a welcome reprieve after a long day, when all you wanted to do was unwind.

But that wasn’t to say it was always easy, even if you were on the brink of exhaustion. Sometimes you just needed a little extra help to get you there.

The ghoul noticed the tense set of your shoulders and your restless shifting. He heard the soft sighs you weren’t even aware you were letting out, short and almost impatient. But what could you possibly be waiting for?

His eyes lingered pensively on the tracking device, like a mark of his ownership, before trailing lower, towards your chest. He licked his lips, a few ideas coming to mind. 

“Say… how would you like a little treat for doin’ such a good job today?” He drawled, a roguish grin on his face as one of his hands came to rest heavily on his belt buckle.

Your attention was drawn there, but you quickly looked back up at his face. Instead of giving in to the impulse to nod eagerly, you bit your lip and decided to test the waters just a little bit.

“A treat, hmm?” you said, slightly tilting your head to one side, a sly smile tugging at your lips.

He nodded, adjusting his position lazily, hips bucking. “Oh yes, I’m feelin’ quite generous today, and you’ve earned it.”

This time you couldn’t hide the effect his words had on you, and he chuckled. Truth be told, you’d had this in mind all day, a craving that would not go away until you had him. It was why you’d gone the extra mile, knowing it wouldn’t escape his notice. He’d gotten real good at reading your moods, after all.

“Come sit pretty for me over here, why don’t’cha?” He said and tapped his foot on the ground, spurs jingling softly. 

You made your way over to him and knelt at his feet. He bent forward, looming over you, and grasped your chin with a gloved hand. 

“Well, ain’t you just the most obedient little thing? I’ve got you well trained, don’t I?” he said, his eyes roaming over your face. “Go on now, get your treat.”

He let go of your face and leaned back, adjusting his hips to bring them closer to you. Your fingers shook only slightly as you deftly undid his belt, then bent your head to undo the zipper with your teeth. There was a low sound of approval in his throat as you tugged his pants down, along with his underwear.

Your mouth watered at the sight of his hardening cock, the head of it lazily resting against his lower abdomen. You were about to curl your fingers around the shaft, but he shook his head.

“No hands,” he said, clicking his tongue. “You don’t need to use your hands anymore.”

You nodded, sticking out your tongue as your head dipped once more. You licked a long, languid stripe up the length of it, making it twitch in response. He sighed a rough good girl as his legs widened to adjust his position, a gloved hand resting on your head. 

Your lips wrapped around the tip, teasing it with little flicks of your tongue. He grunted, his hips jutting upwards. Your mouth was warm and wet and inviting as his cock slid inside it with ease. His head tipped back in ecstasy for a moment before he looked back down to watch you take it deeper into your throat. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I must’ve been real lucky to find such a good lil cocksucker like you.”

You moaned around him, shifting your knees as you felt yourself growing wetter. Your head bobbed up and down at an almost hypnotic pace, hands straining at your sides to keep yourself from using them.

When you reached the base, his cock fully sheathed in your throat, he kept your head down for a moment. You fought the urge to gag, breathing slowly through your nose. 

Then he let you come up for air, the lower half of your face a slobbery mess as you panted. Your eyes were glazed over with desire as you looked up at him, and his cock twitched. 

“Such a pretty mutt, aren’t’cha? I bet you’re all soaked and ready for me,” he rasped, holding your gaze as your tongue lavished his balls with some attention. 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth, feeling himself start to near the edge. But he didn’t want to get there quite yet, and he didn’t want it to be in your mouth this time.

Still, he allowed himself a moment longer, his hand pushing your head to press your face against his cock, hips rocking slightly. Your tongue was still out, trying to catch whatever skin it could, and he let out a deep groan.

“Alright, don’t get too excited now. Turn around and let me take a look.”

You did as told, hastily pulling your pants and underwear down to your knees and presenting yourself for him. You watched him tug his gloves off over your shoulder, appraising you with hungry eyes, and then he knelt behind you.

“My, oh my…” he said as some of your arousal dripped onto the ground. “Just as I thought… Let’s see if she’s ready for me.”

You felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, slowly pushing inside. Eagerly, you pushed your hips back to take more of him, but he stopped you by grabbing your hips.

“Easy, easy,” he chuckled. “You want me to fuck you that bad, huh?”

You nodded, whimpering a little as he thrusted shallowly, stretching you further to accommodate him.  

“Please,” you breathed, your voice broken by desperation, and he pushed your head to the ground.

“It’s cute when you whine like a bitch in heat,” he cooed, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. “Now stay there and take it like the good girl I know y’are.”

Once he was able to fully slide in and out of you with little pushback, his thrusts gradually got faster. You moaned with each rough snap of his hips, deliriously chanting fuck, fuck, fuck under your breath.

He felt impossibly deep at that angle, practically driving you into the ground. One of his hands cracked down on your ass, making you flinch from surprise, your cunt squeezing him hard.

He growled at that, fucking you harder while tugging your hips backwards to meet his thrusts. He was repeatedly hitting a sensitive spot that had your vision going white, eclipsing everything else.

“God damn, this pussy’s so good to me,” he groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You enjoyin’ your treat? Huh?”

“Yes,” you gasped, legs kicking slightly at the intensity, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “I-I’m gonna… Can I cum? Please?”

He was pleased that you’d still thought to ask, but he was too keen on pleasing you at that moment to deny you. “Go on, I’ve got you. Come all over my cock.”

The orgasm rocked throughout your body, every one of your muscles taut as you unraveled. His name spilling from your lips as a whimper, something to cling onto. The way your cunt greedily, and oh so sweetly, squeezed his cock then had him right behind you. 

A rough, feral sound escaped him as his hips snapped against you one last time, spilling hotly inside of you. Your walls continued to flutter in the aftermath, milking out his own pleasure. 

After, he pulled out to get a look at the mess he’d made of you. Hummed with self satisfaction as he saw his spend trickling out of you, like another mark of his ownership.

Your head swam as if you were drunk, but still you smiled at him over your shoulder beatifically. Mischief danced in your eyes, but he’d already known it had been your plan to end up there all along.

“Always so eager to please.” He returned the grin slyly. “Maybe I ought to give you treats more often, if you keep it up.”

Perhaps it hadn’t been his intention, but you took those words as a challenge all the same. 

--------