#I want to encourage anyone I would love making requests for to come over and give my blog a shot.

[motoroil-recs]

My whitelist has been updated! And likely will be edited more in the next few days. Feel free to give it a quick glance if you haven't already!

[emberwhite]

I spent the last 11 months working with my illustrator, Marta, to make the children's book of my dreams. We were able to get every detail just the way I wanted, and I'm very happy with the final result. She is the best person I have ever worked with, and I mean, just look at those colors!

I wanted to tell that story of anyone's who ever felt that they didn't belong anywhere. Whether you are a nerd, autistic, queer, trans, a furry, or some combination of the above, it makes for a sad and difficult life. This isn't just my story. This is our story.

I also want to say the month following the book's launch has been very stressful. I have never done this kind of book before, and I didn't know how to get the word out about it. I do have a small publishing business and a full-time job, so I figured let's put my some money into advertising this time. Indie writers will tell you great success stories they've had using Facebook ads, so I started a page and boosting my posts.

Within a first few days, I got a lot of likes and shares and even a few people who requested the book and left great reviews for me. There were also people memeing on how the boy turns into a delicious venison steak at the end of the book. It was all in good fun, though. It honestly made made laugh. Things were great, so I made more posts and increased spending.

But somehow, someway these new posts ended up on the wrong side of the platform. Soon, we saw claims of how the book was perpetuating mental illness, of how this book goes against all of basic biology and logic, and how the lgbtq agenda was corrupting our kids.

This brought out even more people to support the book, so I just let them at it and enjoyed my time reading comments after work. A few days later, then conversation moved from politics to encouraging bullying, accusing others of abusing children, and a competition to who could post the most cruel image. They were just comments, however, and after all, people were still supporting the book.

But then the trolls started organizing. Over night, I got hit with 3 one-star reviews on Amazon. My heart stopped. If your book ever falls below a certain rating, it can be removed, and blocked, and you can receive a strike on your publishing account. All that hard work was about to be deleted, and it was all my fault for posting it in the wrong place.

I panicked, pulled all my posts, and went into hiding, hoping things would die down. I reported the reviews and so did many others, but here's the thing you might have noticed across platforms like Google and Amazon. There are community guidelines that I referenced in my email, but unless people are doing something highly illegal, things are rarely ever taken down on these massive platforms. So those reviews are still there to this day. Once again, it's my fault, and I should have seen it coming.

Luckily, the harassment stopped, and the book is doing better now, at least in the US. The overall rating is still rickety in Europe, Canada, and Australia, so any reviews there help me out quite a lot. I'm currently looking for a new home to post about the book and talk about everything that went into it. I also love to talk about all things books if you ever want to chat. Maybe I'll post a selfie one day, too. Otherwise, the book is still on Amazon, and the full story and illustrations are on YouTube as well if you want to read it for free.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i’m visualizing a fic where reader goes off to fight with their dragon and comes back to jace being furious that she would endanger herself and feelings are revealed…. can you make that happen? xx🙈

Request: Being dragonseed and getting close to jace during the trainings. Maybe she claimed silverwing or vermithor? She goes to battle while he is not there and jace is STRESSED

Request: Jace sneaking out to check on the girl he secretly loves

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys took it upon himself to teach and train the dragonseeds, he didn’t think his loyalty to his betrothed would be challenged. Since the beginning of war, his bond with Baela became stronger and they got closer, but as he watched you atop Silverwing, hair in the wind and soaring over the water, he felt things he never felt before. 

Was it the blood of the dragon, although thin, that was calling to him? Or was it the sight of a woman on a large dragon? Jacaerys couldn’t tell. What he knew was that he never felt that way when Baela was riding Moondancer. 

‘’What do you mean, she went to the Riverlands?’’ he shouted at his mother, all manners forgotten.

Rhaenyra met his glare with a calm gaze. ‘’The Greens are marching up to Harrenhal. I sent her to meet their army before they reach the Riverlands.’’

‘’And what of Vhagar?’’ Jacaerys continued, his voice rising as he thought of the beast that had devoured his little brother and his dragon in a single bite. ‘’They know Daemon has taken Harrenhal. Undoubtedly, they brought their biggest dragon to fight him.’’

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully. ‘’It is a high possibility, but Silverwing is a large dragon, as you said yourself. Y/N will handle Vhagar if Aemond dares showing up.’’

‘’She is not ready to go to battle.’’ Jacaerys’s fists clenched at his sides, making up the worst scenarios in his mind. ‘’You sent her to her death!’’

‘’I needed to send a dragon. It was Silverwing or Vermithor.’’

‘’Why did you not send Vermithor?’’ 

‘’Because I didn’t want to reveal our biggest asset to the enemy,’’ Rhaenyra said, her brow furrowing as she noticed her son’s agitation. ‘’Why are you so agitated? The dragonseeds were your idea, Jace. We have to send them on the battlefield at some point.’’

The reasons the search for dragonseeds began was to get more dragons on their team, but also to not risk their own in battle by using those with blood 'thinner' than their own as fodder. It was selfish and evil, but losses are inevitable during a war. Better be a stranger than someone you love. 

But now, his plan had backfired.

‘’She’s not just a dragonseed!’’ Jacaerys snapped, his eyes blazing with anger and worry. ‘’She’s—’’ He stopped himself, realizing how much he had revealed in his fury and the implication of what he was about to say. 

Rhaenyra spoke his name softly, finally figuring the nature of her son’s worries, but he turned away, unable to look his mother in the eye. 

⁂

When night came, Jacaerys was unable to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. All he could think about was you fighting against Vhagar…and losing. 

If you didn’t return from the Riverlands, he would never forgive himself for encouraging you to claim Silverwing. 

Finally, Jacaerys could not take it anymore. He sprung out of his bed, changed into his riding clothes and slipped on a cloak. Quietly, he sneaked out of his quarters and started heading towards the hills where he knew Vermax liked to sleep. Rhaenyra would be furious in the morning when finding out he went to the Riverlands without her approval, but he needed to go to you. 

‘’Lyka (quiet), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys said as he mounted the dragon, not wishing to alert anyone of his nightly adventure. The poor thing was whining and confused why his rider was waking him, but obeyed his command. 

They set out into the night, flying towards the northwest. The wind was cold, biting through Jacaerys' cloak, and the darkness was absolute with no moon to guide their way. The only sound was the rhythmic beating of Vermax's wings, cutting through the icy air.

After what felt like hours of flying blindly in the night, Vermax began to screech, a high-pitched, urgent sound that pierced the silence.

‘’Sagon gīda (be calm), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys commanded, trying to calm his dragon. But Vermax continued screeching, his eyes darting around as if he had seen something human eyes couldn’t. ‘’What is it, Vermax?’’ 

Vermax's screeches grew louder, more insistent, and Jacaerys felt a surge of unease. He strained his eyes, peering into the inky blackness, but saw nothing. He knew that dragons had senses far keener than humans, capable of detecting things long before they were visible.

‘’What do you see?” he muttered, more to himself than to Vermax, as he tried to understand his dragon’s distress.

Vermax couldn't understand the common tongue, but his behavior made it clear that something was wrong. He twisted his head, sniffing the air, and let out another screech, this one more urgent and filled with warning.

Jacaerys suddenly realized what it could mean: Vermax had detected the scent of another dragon. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on the reins, scanning the dark skies for any sign of movement. The thought of encountering Vhagar in the pitch-black night sent a shiver down his spine. He tightened his grip on the handles, trying to steady both his dragon and himself.

Then, through the darkness, he saw a faint, silvery glimmer. Realization struck him hard. 

‘’Silverwing,’’ he breathed, understanding now what Vermax had sensed. 

Immediately, Jacaerys commanded Vermax to descend. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew that he had not reached the Riverlands yet. If Silverwing was down here, it could mean you were injured. Dragons were known to stay by their rider's side and guard them when they were vulnerable — or dying.

The prince's heart raced as they descended, his mind filled with worry. As soon as Vermax touched ground, he dismounted and scanned the area frantically, searching for you. 

Silverwing screeched loudly when Jacaerys got close, the sound stirring you from your sleep and snapping into alert. You reached for your dagger sheated at your hip, ready to stab whoever would try to get close.

‘’It’s me,’’ Jacaerys quickly said before you could touch him. 

‘’Prince Jacaerys?’’ you said with a frown. ‘’Has Her Grace sent you looking for me?’’

Jacaerys stayed silent. His mother did not care much for you — or any of the dragonseeds. 

The sight of blood on your hands sent his heart into a frenzy. ‘’Are you hurt? What has happened?’’ 

He kneeled beside you, and you let out a small hiss. ‘’I'm not on my deathbed, my Prince,’’ you reassured. ‘’I saw the Green's army marching to the Riverlands. They were definitely surprised to see a new dragon had been claimed by the Blacks. I engaged in battle, burning several of them, but their archers started shooting arrows at us. Silverwing dodged them the best she could, but I received one in my leg…’’ You glanced down where the arrow used to be, blood seeping through your clothes and down your leg. ‘’I know I should not have taken it out, but the pain was too much.’’ 

‘’It’s okay.’’ Jacaerys drew his sword to cut a piece of his cloak to make a bandage for your leg. ‘’All that matters is that you’re alive.’’ He began wrapping the piece of his cloak tightly around your wounded leg, but not so tight it would cause you more pain. ‘’I…I was worried about you.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at the prince. ‘’Me?’’

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze flickering between your face and your wounded leg. ‘’Don't do that again. Going alone in a battle. What is Vhagar had been there?’’

‘’Why? Because I’m a woman?’’ 

‘’No.’’ Jacaerys shook his head. ‘’No, that’s not— When I didn’t see you at training this morning, I thought you were in the village helping your parents with the sheeps. But Baela informed me that you had been sent to the Riverlands at first light to meet the Greens and all I could think about was Rook’s Rest. What Vhagar did to Luke, and Rhaenys… Gods, if you were the next to fall, I would not handle it.’’

You huffed, not believing him. ‘’Aren’t I just a paw in your mother’s war? I’m not stupid, my Prince. Dragonseeds don’t matter to Her Grace. She just want the power of our dragons.’’ 

‘’I care. I care about you. I care so much about you that I could not sleep without knowing if you were okay. I would not have taken flight in the middle of the night if I didn’t care about you.’’

His words hung in the dark night, the air filled with his confession. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you processed his sudden confession. This conversation felt like forbidden territory. You were a shepherd’s daughter and he was a highborn prince, betrothed to a princess.

‘’You…you shouldn’t say things like that,’’ you finally murmured, averting your eyes from the intensity of his gaze. You tried to hide the fact that his words made you feel things you shouldn’t.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, then slowly reached out to tilt your chin, his fingertips gently tracing over your skin. ‘’I should, because it’s how I feel.’’ He leaned closer. His fingers grazed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

‘’What of Baela?’’ you managed to ask, your heart beating wildly in your chest, torn between desire and loyalty.

He shook his head, his gaze locked with yours. ‘’I don’t feel strongly for Baela the way I do for you,’’ he confessed.

—

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[lovelettersfromluna]

Wasted Summers

Summary: Yet another cliche store of a friends with benefits arrangement blossoming into something that is so much more.

an: this went from something that I wanted to make a Drabble about, to remembering an awesome request that someone sent in, to mixing them both?? To the sweet nony that sent this, I hope this lives up to your expectations of me, and I thank you (and everyone else) for trusting me with something you’d like to see written out! I tweaked a few things, so I hope that’s okay. The ending is sooo rushed on this bc I really wanted to get something out to you all as quickly as possible so I apologize! As always, I love you all so so much. (P.S chapter two of vampire!Ellie is on the way!)

Warnings: MDNI!!, 18+, smut, angst, Ellie is a giant fucking player and had no intentions of settling down (or does she? 😏), Ellie is extremely emotionally unavailable, scissoring, lots of making out, lots of pet names, reader catches a cold, mentions of headaches, medicine, and just your general cold symptoms tbh, please lmk if I missed anything!

You had only made the mistake of asking Ellie what you were to her one time in your friendship.

You couldn’t really help yourself either. She just looked so fucking pretty that night, praising you so well, saying all the right things. Could anyone really blame you for taking it the wrong way? Assuming that she was trying to send signals to you in the same way that you’d tried to send to her?

“Fuck…that’s it…always so fucking good for me, my good fucking girl” she panted out above you as she drilled her sopping wet pussy down onto yours, your head absolutely spinning with the feeling she gave you, the way your heart overflowed with the delicious feeling of euphoria.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, eyebrows furrowed as your fingers dug into the skin of Ellie’s thighs, your own legs trembling as you felt your orgasm growing closer and closer.

Ellie was quick to grab your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you to form a pout as she tugged your face to look at her.

“No no no…look at me baby, keep your fucking eyes on me when you cum…that’s it…that’s a good girl” she groaned out through gritted teeth, always loving watching you struggle as you came undone at her doings.

“I’m…fuck Ellie…I’m…c-close” you stuttered out, back arching as your lips parted, glossy eyes staring up at the girl almost in awe as she drove you towards your third orgasm of the night, struggling to hang onto the very thin rope that was keeping you connected to this world.

She smirked down at you, giving you an encouraging nod as her tattooed hands gripped your thighs tightly, sure to leave marks in the morning.

“That’s my fuckin girl…come on baby…fuck…I’m…fuck!” She shouted out, her own back arching as her hips sputtered, her pussy gushing onto yours as she came hard with a strangled moan. The sound of her cumming alone was enough to make your own eyes flutter shut, hands flying down to your mattress as you gripped the sheets tightly, your knuckles aching as you screamed out Ellie’s name over and over again, tears threatening to spill out your eyes with the intensity of your orgasm.

“M-mm….fuck” you stuttered out, struggling to catch your breath as your naked chest rose and fell, trying to find a steady pace for yourself. Ellie gave a lazy chuckle as she stared down at you, her hand coming up to give your cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Did good for me princess..” she praised you, your heart swelling at her words.

Ellie’s words never failed to make your head spin.

She was quick to roll off of you, her back hitting your bed with a thud as she laid next to you, staring up at your ceiling as she tried to recollect herself.

And that’s what it usually was with you and Ellie. She’d come to your house, you guys would either play video games or watch a movie, she would get handsy and things would always end with her tugging you to your bedroom, either between your legs or on top of you. You loved every second of it, being with Ellie, feeling Ellie, it was all perfect all the time but…

You couldn’t help but want more.

Your heart felt empty every time she left, every time she jumped up from your bed, claiming that she either had to wake up early for work in the morning, or she had someone waiting for her in the city, leaving you alone in your apartment with nothing more than a quick squeeze on your hip, and the slamming of your door as she left. And maybe it was the fact that she didn’t immediately leave your bed that night that even prompted you to ask in the first place, a silent sign from the universe that this was your chance to understand where you stood with her.

“Ellie…” you called out her name softly, still staring at your ceiling before you turned on your side to look at her. She responded with a gentle hum, her arm bent and propped against the back of her head. Your heart is beating so fast now, staring at her pretty features, her profile was almost from that of a painting, or a sculpture. It made you wanna reach out and gently trace them, burning the feeling of her face into your memory.

You don’t realize you’re staring until she looks over at you, eyebrows furrowing for a minute before she gives a chuckle. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She questions, and you know she’s teasing you. You roll your eyes before giving her a soft, playful nudge.

A moment passes, and you’re simply staring at her, trying to find the words to say to her, how to properly ask her what you’ve been dying to ask her.

Her features soften, a soft pout on her lips as she turns to you more, her body facing yours entirely. “Hey…everything okay?” She asks gently, and her tone alone is making you want to pass out then and there, the care in her voice almost making you whine.

You take a deep inhale, before your mouth opens and you finally say it.

“What…what are we?” You mumble out, blinking a few times as you stare up at the girl, waiting for her to respond.

But it starts to feel like you’re waiting forever, because Ellie’s jaw goes slack as she stares at you with wide eyes, clearly shocked that you’d even think to ask her something like that. It puts your stomach in knots, and it makes you regret even asking in the first place, but before you can even retract fully, telling her some lame excuse about it being just a joke, or a dumb prank, she’s opening her mouth to respond.

“I…we’re friends…you know that, don’t you?” She asks carefully, eyeing you as if this should all be common knowledge to you, as if you’d always been on the same page to begin with.

You blink a few times at her, unable to respond to her or even agree with what she’s saying. You feel choked up, throat closing up as the inevitable tears threaten to spill past your cheeks, the girl of your dreams confirming that you two are in fact not on the same page.

“Don’t you?” She repeats, her voice growing worried as she stares down at you with her eyebrows furrowed, scared that she’s seeing things when she notices the way your eyes gloss over.

And it prompts you to quickly clear your throat, practically sucking the tears back into your body as you give her a quick nod, all while scooting away from her a bit. Because suddenly, it feels like Ellie is entirely too close to you in your bed.

“Yeah…yeah I do” you try to chirp out, putting on your best attempt at trying to sound like you weren’t completely dying inside.

Of course she can see right through it, the girl staring down at you wearily as she tries to read you. You almost hope she’ll speak up about it, comfort you and tell you that whatever you had going on was okay, and it was normal to not have a label on things.

But she doesn’t.

She gives you a quick nod before she awkwardly clears her own throat, the tension in your room thick as she reaches behind her on the ground for her t shirt, quickly pulling it on over her head before she scrambles out of your bed to search for her clothes. One by one, she silently dresses herself in her underwear, and her jeans, and soon, she looks exactly like the way she looked when she first got to your house.

You aren’t sure if Ellie’s ever been so eager to leave you before.

You inhale deeply as you sit up, tugging the blankets over your chest, suddenly scared to be bare in front of the girl, as if she wasn’t sucking on your tits mere moments ago. You can’t even find it in yourself to ask why she’s in such a hurry, the embarrassment from your first question eating you up to almost nothing as it is.

Ellie’s the one that breaks the silence first.

“Right…so…I gotta meet Jesse in town…I’ll uh…” she trails off as she trips over her own feet, walking backwards to quickly open your room door. It looks almost like she can’t leave quick enough, so you simply nod and give her a wave, with a half smile.

“Yeah…bye Ellie” your tone is dismissive, way too dismissive and you know that. But at this point, you want Ellie out of your apartment just as much as it seems like she wants to leave. It’s too awkward, to much of a grey area has covered the both of you that you desperately want to escape now, even if you were the one that brought it onto yourself.

She’s taken aback by the way you rush her out, regardless of the fact that she’s being just as dodgy as you are, if not more. She tries her best to ignore the way her heart aches at the way you’re dismissing her, avoiding the way it makes her feel like you’re kicking her out. Instead, she swallows thickly and gives a quick nod before she stutters over her own words, a sorry attempt at a goodbye, and leaves.

When she does leave, you’re left with a heavy feeling settled onto you. It makes you feel like you’ve done something wrong, like you’ve ruined something by talking too much or opening your mouth. Things were fine between you and Ellie, a bit confusing, but if it wasn’t broken, why try to fix it?

That night, you could only lay in your bed that smelled too heavily of Ellie, and think of all the ways you could try to force not only her, but yourself to forget about the events that just took place, desperate to get back to the way things were.

Waking up with a sore throat and a runny nose a few weeks after the incident with Ellie seemed to be just your luck.

Perhaps all of the stress and overthinking that you endured during the time weakened your immune system, the lack of sleep that you were getting not helping much either. You couldn’t really help it, not entirely at least. You should have seen it coming though, all the signs were right there in front of you.

Things had been fine with you and Ellie after everything happened that night, everything going back to normal almost too easily. You were both very much on the same page of pretending as though none of it happened, and Ellie only confirmed that when she texted you the morning after asking if you were going to attend some plans that your friend group had included you in a few days prior.

While the relief you felt alleviated a lot of the stress the situation brought on, you couldn’t avoid the nagging feeling that came with the unknown. Your overthinking was in overdrive of course, constantly wondering what Ellie was thinking, what she was going to do with your friendship, it was all too overwhelming.

Things that night with Ellie were fine, great even. You two were sat together in the booth of the lounge that you had all met up in, her hands dancing along your thighs, toying with the hem of your dress as you laughed at something Dina said. To your surprise, she even leaned into you towards the end of the night, whispering in your ear, asking if you wanted to get out of there, which was a telltale sign that Ellie wanted to get you alone.

You should’ve known you were coming down with something when you gave her a shy smile and politely declined, making up some excuse about being tired. Tired was an understatement, you were exhausted, and the worst part was, you couldn’t put your finger on what the hell was going on with you. Ellie could sense it to, frowning at the way you quickly brushed her off and scooted out of the booth, making you the first one to go home that night.

You thought it was just a lack of sleep, your body begging you to just relax and take care of yourself for once. Making a big cup of tea and giving yourself a warm bath would do just the trick, surly. You felt hopeful when tucking yourself into bed and drifting off to sleep almost instantly.

However, the next morning was brutal. Your throat felt like you’d been swallowing nails, your nose stuffy, head filled with so much pressure it felt as though it would pop at any time. Instantly, you knew you were sick, and as inconvenient as it was, you were due for it. You hadn’t gotten sick in who knows how long, so it almost felt like your body was forcing you to focus on yourself rather than Ellie for once.

You always wondered how people function properly when they were sick, getting things done, being productive, because you were the complete opposite. Being sick meant shutting down for approximately seven to nine business days until all of your symptoms were at least a tiny bit alleviated. You wouldn’t talk to anyone, or even tell anyone that you were sick, all you wanted was to sulk in bed and feel sorry for yourself until you got even remotely better.

You didn’t even text Ellie.

And your absence is what sends her into somewhat of a frenzy of anxiety. She’s so used to hearing from you almost every day, if not through text messages or calls, then through other apps where you two can send stupid memes and videos to each other. The first few days she rights off as you simply being busy, even if the entire situation at your house has her on edge and she’s thinking the absolute worst. But a day or two turns into a week, and it’s the longest Ellie has ever gone without hearing from you.

So now shes worried.

Because what happened to you? Are you angry with her? Have you finally realized that Ellie isn’t enough for you? That this awkward little game that you and her are playing is far too good for you? Because it is. Ellie knows deep in her bones that it is, she knows that she’s playing a dangerous game with you, dangling someone as fantastic as you by a thread, keeping you both separated by the whole friends with benefits facade that she knows is a load of bullshit.

And why does she do it? The same reason why anyone does, of course.

Ellie is a coward.

She’s the biggest coward there ever was, terrified of commitment, scared that the second she makes you here’s entirely things will change, and she’ll be forced to lose the single best thing that’s ever happened to her.

That, and the fact that you and Ellie have been friends since you were kids.

You both happened to be the new kids at the school in town, and it’s what brought you two together. You found friends in one another, and you decided to tackle the cruel adolescent world of middle school together rather than on your own.

The friends with benefits thing didn’t start until college, when one drunk night together lead to you straddling Ellie in some gross frat bedroom, grinding down on her as you pushed your tongue down her throat. At that point, Ellie had experienced many different nights with many different girls, earning a bit of a reputation at your university as a player, which you were very aware of. But regardless of all the girls she’d fallen into bed with, no one ever made her feel the way you did, never even came close.

And Ellie knew she couldn’t let go of that.

It became her own personal addiction, the silent agreement of fucking her best friend becoming a very frequent occurrence. Sleepovers would turn into nights filled with kisses and bliss, study sessions would almost always end with Ellie hovering over you with her hand shoved between your legs, playing with your pussy as much as she wanted until you became a moaning mess for her.

You two never truly discussed what you were, not until that night at least.

Ellie always thanked her lucky stars over the fact that you simply went along with it, allowing her to play with your body whenever she wanted, and you with hers. It was like a blessing, her beautiful best friend that she’d been obsessed with since the first day of sixth grade, now letting her see her in a way that she knew many didn’t see you in.

She should’ve known it was too good to be true.

Because that look in your eyes that night made Ellie’s heart race, and while she’d dreamt of you asking her that more times than she could count, it suddenly became her biggest nightmare. She couldn’t leave your room fast enough, the look of want, need, love in your eyes, practically begging her to make you more than just her friend she occasionally fucked.

As much as she didn’t want them to, she knew things would change after that.

She saw it in the way you acted that night at the lounge, denying her of alone time with you, quickly scurrying out of the booth as if you couldn’t get further away from her. And now your absence was only further confirming Ellie’s worst nightmare. You were done with her, years of friendship flushed down the fucking toilet because she was too much of a fucking coward to…

To….

To tell you how in love with you she was.

For once, why couldn’t she suck up her pride and just admit that she was in love? Did love make her weak? Did it mean she had to leave behind a life she didn’t even enjoy that much? The girls were great, a fun way to pass the time, but none of them held a candle to you, and she knew that. She even tried hooking up with someone the night she left your apartment, and it made her feel fucking sick.

And now you were leaving, and she had no one to blame but herself.

In true Ellie fashion though, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

As much as she knew she didn’t deserve one, she wanted an explanation. You both had been friends for too fucking long for her to be thrown away like this, even if it was her fault.

So? A little over a week since that night at the lounge, Ellie is marching her way up to your apartment, and landing a hard knock on your familiar front door.

The noise makes you jolt out of your sleep, the sound of the harsh knocking echoing throughout your small apartment. It makes you whine, because after yet another miserable night with no sleep, you were finally able to knock yourself out with some cold medicine you had delivered to your house. The sleep was heavy and uncomfortable but it was the only way you were able to get even a little bit of shut eye. You hoped and prayed that whoever it was would get the memo that you wouldn’t come to the door, however another string of knocks made you groan loudly, your sore throat rattling as you did so.

Your bones ached as you tossed your blanket back and swung your legs over the bed. The cold wooden floor was unwelcoming to your feet, making you shiver as you pushed yourself off of the bed with weak arms, slowly trudging towards your door.

When you finally get to it, you try your best to clear your throat, knowing that it’s all in vain. Nothing was strong enough to bring back your voice from the raspy sound that it was now, all the coughing and sneezing making it so that you could barely get one syllable out let alone a full sentence.

“Yes?” You rasp out as you opened the door, pouting in annoyance as you rub your sleep filled eyes, arms wrapping around your body to stop the inevitable shiver that ran down your spine every second.

Ellie feels her heart break when she sees you. Your hair is messy, dark bags settled under your eyes, nose red, and skin lacking the usual radiance you always emitted. You didn’t even wear your usual cute matching pajama set, instead wearing a big t shirt that nearly swallowed you whole, and a pair of baggy sweatpants that were extremely faded.

You were sick.

And all the mean things she had planned to say to you suddenly disappear, now replaced with the urge to take care of you, and beg to understand why you didn’t call her when you started feeling this way.

“Baby…” she almost whines out, heart aching at the sight of you. You didn’t even realize who it was at first, your fever ridden brain having a hard time adjusting to the figure at the door. Her voice gives it away first.

“Ellie?” You croak out, and the sound is nearly enough to bring Ellie to tears.

Without another word, she’s gently pushing past you to get into your apartment, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes never lead your figure as she studies your face.

“Ellie…you shouldn’t be here, I’m really not-“ you try, because the last thing you want is to get Ellie sick, subjecting her to the hell that you’ve had to live through for the past week.

She quickly cuts you off, shaking her head as she grabs a hold of your wrist, tugging you to your room.

“When did you start feeling this way?” Her tone is stern, but soft, and it makes your heart melt.

A nasty cough rattles your chest, and you groan at the pain you feel in your tired lungs. You let her pull the sheets back and help you into bed, instantly sighing as the warmth wraps you up, making you feel a bit better.

You clear your throat before you respond. “The morning after the lounge…didn’t wanna bother anyone” you confess, now letting the girl tuck you into bed.

There’s a permanent frown on her face as she bring her palm to your head, which only deepens when she feels how warm you are. “You’re burning up…” she mumbles under her breath.

She looks around your room, only to see that your beside table is littered with tiny signs that you’d been trying to take care of yourself. There were cough drops, different bottles of medicine, a box of tissues and a small compress. She sighs as she grabs one of the bottles, reading the back before she speaks to you again.

“When’s the last time you took this?” She questions, another ugly cough rattling through your poor lungs, making you whine as you push your face into your pillow, feeling utterly fed up with the current condition of your body.

“Dunno…just been trying to sleep it off instead” your words make Ellie frown deeply, knowing how stubborn you’d always been with medicine, often times far too deep in felt pity to even bring yourself to take it.

“Well you’re going to take some now..come on, sit up” she urges you gently, her tattooed hand gently grabbing your arm and pulling you sit up. She shook out the correct dosage of medicine for you before she handed it to you with a bottle of water, her green eyes filled with worry and concern as she eyed you as you took it.

She felt her heart ache at the mere sight of you, a permanent pout on your lips, eyes drained of the familiar brightness she’d come to love oh so much. She could see how much it visibly pained you to even drink the water, your hand coming up to cup your throat as if to soothe the pain from the outside in.

“Hurts?” She questioned gently, her hand coming behind you to rub your back gently. You give her a slow nod, eyes closing as you lean into her and her touch, the feeling of her warm hands making the chill in your bones melt almost immediately.

She gives you a nod before she helps you lay back down. “Stay here…I know what’ll help, okay baby?” She reassures you. You’re too weak to even respond, a shaky sigh leaving your lips as you settle down against your pillow, the medicine already doing its work to give you a break from the intense cough your body had grown used to within the last few days.

Ellie is on her feet once she’s sure you’ve settled, walking out of your bedroom and into your kitchen where she grabs your little tea kettle, filling it up with water and putting the water to boil. She grabs your favorite mug while the water heats up, as well as some peppermint tea and some honey.

She finds herself deep in thought while she waits for the water to boil, a soft frown playing on her lips as her knuckle raps against your counter.

Ellie absolutely hates herself for not being more proactive with you. She should’ve known you were getting sick from the moment you weren’t responding to her text messages earlier in the week, it was a typical sign on your end that you weren’t feeling like yourself, something that you’d often do to not burden anyone with what you were feeling. But you were all alone, and it was Ellie’s job as your friend to take care of you when you needed her.

She sighs to herself as she finishes making up your tea, tapping the spoon on the edge of your mug before she brought it to her mouth, humming at the taste before she nodded to herself and brought it to your room.

The medicine must have knocked you out immediately, because your eyes are closed and your lips are parted in the slightest as soft snore escapes from your body. It makes Ellie groan to herself as she gently sits on your bed, hating the fact that she had to disturb your sleep.

“Baby?…come on pretty girl…wake up and drink a bit of this, then you can go back to bed” her soft voice reaches you in the depths of your fever ridden brain, and it makes you blink your eyes open to see if it’s another dream, or if she’s actually there.

Hazy eyes blink back at Ellie, a soft whine leaving your lips as you bring your hand up to rub your eyes, the nasty cough rattling through your chest as you promptly sit up for her, reaching out and taking the mug.

“You shouldn’t be here Ellie….what if I get you sick?” You croak out before bringing the mug to your lips, taking a sip of the warm drink, allowing it to soothe your aching throat.

Ellie watches you intently before she rolls her eyes playfully. “Jokes on you, getting sick would just mean you have to take care of me” she gives you a wink, and you groan softly, nudging her with your blanket clad foot before you take another sip and set the mug on your bedside table.

“Feels like my fever broke…I should be able to take care of myself now, El” you try, a soft sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against your pillow, tugging your blankets up to your chin.

Ellie watches you closely, you were clearly in need of sleep, exhaustion taking over your weak body the second your head hit the pillow. She simply hummed at your response before she pushed herself off the bed. You assumed this was here obeying, silently leaving because she assumed you were already fast asleep, however the girl was kicking off her shoes instead, leaving her only in her sweatpants and her t-shirt before she promptly crawled in next to you in your bed.

You whine softly, but still let her tug you closer. Her strong hands are like ice on your warm thigh, tugging it over her leg and pressing your body against hers. She’s so warm, and you can’t help but push your cold hands under her shirt, pressing against her warm stomach. She chuckles softly as it makes her shiver, keeping you close regardless.

“Might as well stay since I’m here now, yeah?” She hums out softly, earning only a weak hum from you in response.

Ellie isn’t sure if she’s ever seen anyone fall asleep so quickly, soft snores leaving your lips again as she holds you close, rubbing small shapes into your back as she simply lays there, holding you in your bed.

It makes her heart ache when she realizes this is the first time she’s back here with you since you asked her what you were to her that one night. It makes her wonder how much things would’ve changed up until now if she’d told you the truth, told you just how much she wanted you to be hers and only hers, dropping the stupid act of being single and being free for you would’ve been much smarter than what she did instead.

Seeing you sick, in bed and all alone made Ellie feel like she’d failed you, not only as someone who was madly in love with you, but as your friend. What kind of friend ignored the signs, forcing you to take care of yourself when you felt so poorly.

Watching you lay there, sleeping soundly as you so deserved in her arms made Ellie’s heart burst with a feeling she knew she’d had for you for such a long time, since she’d met you really. Taking care of you felt even better.

So that’s exactly what she was gonna do.

Ellie doesn’t leave your side the entire time she’s there with you.

Which is about three days. You were already coming to the end of your cold when she had found you, and while it felt worse than when you first got sick, the end was near.

Your heart would flutter every time Ellie would wake you up for your medicine, or gently tug you out of bed for a warm bath, she’d even managed to run down to your favorite cafe for a bowl of soup in record breaking time to make sure you were getting something good to eat. She did everything in her power to nurse you back to health, never once agreeing with your many pleas to leave you there alone before you got her sick.

When you finally stopped asking her to leave you, you were left with the plaguing thoughts that you tried getting rid of, the ones filled with Ellie denying your question, denying you of the answer you wanted so badly when you asked her what you were to her. It made no sense to you, someone that used your body at their disposal, caring so much for your health and your wellbeing, you truly couldn’t outweigh the reasons as to why Ellie was suddenly here, when she wasn’t before.

It didn’t take long for your fever to break completely, and for the cough to subside to something that happened only once in a while rather than every minute or so. It was finally starting to look up for you.

Which meant Ellie had to leave soon.

You were sat up in your bed while Ellie was in your kitchen, washing up some of the dishes from when you and her had eaten together, a permanent frown on your lips as you toyed with the blanket draped over your legs.

Ellie returned, a soft smile on her face as she watched the way you were sat up, looking far more alert than a few days prior.

“You’re looking so much better, baby…that’s good to see” she hummed out as she moved to crawl into bed with you, taking her usual spot. She leaned in, wanting to press a kiss to your neck, she lets out a soft huff when you try to pull away.

“Hm? What’s the matter? I already told you I don’t care if I get sick…” you can hear the smirk in her voice as she leans in again, this time aiming for the corner of your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore.

You pressed your hand to her chest, finally looking into her eyes. She can tell by the look on your face that this is much more than you fussing over her getting sick.

“I can’t…what is this Ellie? I appreciate you taking care of me and helping me get better but…” your words trail off, a soft pout on your lips as you struggle with the words you want to say before you let out a gentle sigh, eyes dropping from Ellie’s, looking down at your lap instead.

“This feels too intimate…the kissing…the way touch me…” you explain, your voice falling to nothing but a small, hoarse sound.

“I want to respect what you said about us…but you’re making it really hard when you treat me like I’m your girlfriend” you sigh out, hating that you even had to explain any of this to Ellie in the first place.

She’s frowning at this point, eyebrows furrowed as she eyes you carefully. It feels like you’re practically twisting the knife that had been lodged into her heart from the moment you asked her what you were to her. She ignorantly wished you two could just ignore it all, let it blow over while she pretended she could have you in the way she wanted, all while hurting you at the same time.

“I think we just…shouldn’t do these things anymore…the kissing, the fucking….” Your words are shaky, and Ellie can hear that you’re at the brink of tears without even seeing your face.

And she knows this is it, she’s lost her chance.

You finally look up at her, your eyes red and filled with tears threatening to spill out onto your soft cheeks.

“I’m sorry…I appreciate you coming here and helping me but I can’t-“ your words are cut off by Ellie’s lips on yours. Both of her hands are cupping your face as she gives you a kiss so filled with passion, it’s nearly enough to make you whine. But as good as her lips feel, you’re quick to push her off.

“Ellie no! I told you, you’ll get sick” you complain, your hands wrapped around both of her wrists as you pull them away from your face.

A moment passes as she simply stares into your eyes, a pleading looking written on her face as if she’s silently begging you to hear her, to understand what she wants to convey all without saying a single word in the process.

But you don’t.

“I’m not like you, Ellie…I get attached, and I want more with you…more than you want with me and it just won’t-“ it’s the second time she’s cutting you off for the night, this time she speaks.

“And I love that!” she blurts out finally, her voice cracking with the amount of emotions that filled her up, from simply staring into your eyes.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you eye the girl closely, shaking your head as you try to understand. “But you said….” Your words trail off, because even recalling the words she’d said to you that night hurts.

Ellie sighs softly before she shakes her head. “I know what I said…and I’m an idiot for it” she groans out, knowing deep down this would always have been the outcome of her actions, whether she wanted it or not.

She reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before her hand dropped down to cup your cheek gently.

“I’ve wanted you…since the moment I laid eyes on you” she breaths out. You can practically hear the relief it brings her, just from admitting it to you. Ellie feels as though the weight of the world is lifted off of her shoulders when the words fall from the tip of her tongue.

You simply stare at her, eyes wide and eager to hear more, practically begging her to go on.

Her pink tongue darts from her behind her lips, thumb stroking your cheek gently before she continued to speak. “I felt like when we started doing this…it would be my ticket to finally telling you how much I love you…clearly I’m too much of a coward for that” she chuckles out, only half joking as the bitter words fall into the air of your room.

The moment of silence that falls between the two of you feels like an eternity, it feels too long since you’ve said something and it makes Ellie feel sick. She didn’t know what she was hoping for when she told you, it whatever was happening was far from it.

And so, she begins to panic.

“I’m sorry I ever said those things to you. I just didn’t know what to say when you asked and I panicked and it just-“ it’s your turn to cut her off, leaning in and pressing your lips to hers to shut her up. It makes Ellie melt as soon as you do, a soft whine leaving her lips as one of her hands falls down to your waist, wanting you as close as possible.

Your lips work against hers for a moment before you finally pull apart, a soft smile on your lips as you stare into her eyes.

“So you love me, hm?” You tease her, and it makes Ellie whine as she falls back to lay against your pillow, tugging you down with her by your waist as she pulls you to straddle her lower body.

“That’s all you gathered? Here I am confessing my undying love and apologizing at the same time and all you get is one thing” she smirks as she stares up at you, her hands caressing your bare thighs.

“You’re lucky I’m used to your idiotic tendencies…I don’t think anyone would deal with this behavior” you hear her again with a fake pout, which earns a fake groan from her end before she gives your thighs a firm squeeze.

“Good thing it’s you then, hm?” She mumbles out softly, making you giggle before you bend down to attach your lips to hers, wanting nothing more than to enjoy the girl now that feelings had been confessed.

After a moment of your lips against hers, you hear Ellie groan, which makes you frown as you pull away. “Everything okay baby?” You ask softly, only to see that Ellie is pouting childish up at you.

“My throat kinda hurts…”

[luveline]

how about spencer x badass reader and they are wearing couple or similar clothes intentionally or unintentionally?? I think that would be cutee

tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks, sounding like a kid in a candy store, a crisp twenty in his back pocket. 

Emily follows his line of sight and feels her cheeks apple unbidden, a delighted smile on her painted lips. "Oh, my god." 

"Yeah, Garcia?" Derek asks, phone to his ear, Penelope first on his speed dial. "You need to come and see this. Like, right now. Don't worry, baby, just come and see it for yourself." 

"I don't even know what to say." Emily stares at you. 

You usually dress in line with the other women in this profession: pants that aren't too tight so you can run in if needed, a simple blouse, and a blazer if you're feeling formal. 

Today, you've opted for something softer. It was a slow change, one day you were wearing a cashmere sweater, thin and fitted to your form. Another day, you chose to layer your shirt with a cardigan of a similar colour. 

Right now? You're all Spencer. Your slacks remain unchanged but your blouse has been swapped for a shirt with a stiff starched collar and layered under what can only be described as a grandpa sweater. It's not quite ugly, but it's almost identical to Spencer's. 

What's more, you've swapped your boots for converse. 

Spencer holds the door for you. He's chosen to wear a tie at least, clinging to that last strand of professional business attire. He has two coffees, one in each hand, while you carry a box. He's all elbows as he talks to you, and you, ever his fan, follow every word with a fond smile. 

"Hey, are you guys sharing a wardrobe now?" Derek asks, absolutely unwilling to hold back.

Emily piles on, "It's cute! You're totally an old married couple, you look like my grandparents." 

"What happened to your boots, lovergirl?" Derek asks, nodding at your cons, arms crossed over the back of his chair casually. "Don't get me wrong, I'm loving the sneakers." 

"You guys totally match," Emily coos. "You could be on a Christmas card." 

You smile —you smile, Emily might just call the news— and walk past them to your desk. Hotch has moved you away from Spencer knowing you'll encourage his endless chattering, which places you on a different island of desks next to Anderson and Agent Camille. 

Spencer put his coffee down on his desk, taking off his messenger bag. "Nice going, guys. She brought you donuts. You know, to apologise for calling you both antagonistic losers yesterday," he says, smiling at the mutual horror that crops up on their faces. "The fancy kind, too. She knew your favourite flavours without asking." 

From her desk, Emily can see you've opened the box and offered them to your desk mates, your expression unperturbed. "Just don't touch the chocolate sprinkle ones, they're for Spencer," you say.

No matter what they say, how sorry they sound, you give out the donuts to anyone who'll take one until they're all gone. When Garcia arrives, she finds you sitting in your desk chair with your head leaning against Spencer's stomach, taking alternate bites of the same sprinkle-covered donut like it isn't the most domestic, coupley thing you could be doing. 

Unlike Emily and Derek, Penelope genuinely thinks you look cute. "You guys are like Brangelina," she breathes, eyes wide, her smile infectious. 

Spencer fails to hide a grin, his hand on your shoulder. You're better at controlling your emotion, sliding a small parcelled package across the desk toward her.

"Thank you, Pen," you say. "I like the shoes. They're comfy. And the sweater was a gift." Spencer nods enthusiastically. 

That explains why you'd taken such an offence. Anything to do with Spencer raises your hackles. If you felt someone was making fun of his present to you, you'd defend him with your last dying breath, or, in this instance, punish your coworkers in his honour. 

"I'm sorry," Derek apologises again, "I was kidding! What do you want me to do, you want me to wear a sweater vest too? I can do that." 

You reach back to touch Spencer's side, levelling Derek with an impartial look. Not mad, not sad. Totally indifferent. "That could be a good start." 

Spencer hums. "I think so. You wanna borrow one of mine?"

The barest hint of a smile plays on your lips. "That's generous, Spence. You're a philanthropist."

"I am." He strokes the slope of your sweater-clad shoulder proudly. "You know me, I love sharing my wardrobe." 

[cutielando]

i worry | lando norris

synopsis: in which you’re both worried about him

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

Ever since he could remember, Lando has always been a vocal advocate of how important mental health was to him, always encouraging people to get the help they need and not feel at all embarrassed about needing it and asking in the first place.

It was one of the many things that you loved about him, how passionate he was about making sure his words would encourage people all around to get better.

But that also meant that he sometimes forgot to take care of himself. The last couple of races before the 2024 summer break were very tough on Lando, both physically and mentally, but they especially took a toll on his mental health.

You had seen it ever since Silverstone, after McLaren had clearly fucked his strategy and jeopardized yet another chance at a win, he was heartbroken. Hungary was especially hard for you to watch, especially because you were in the garage when everything went down.

For days after, you couldn’t get the radios out of your head, the way the team had spoken to Lando, basically emotionally blackmailed him into giving up his position to Oscar. Lando’s broken expression when he finally made his way back from the trophy ceremony; his eyes searching for you in the crowd of personnel he couldn’t bear to see at that moment.

It was a very hard pill to swallow, especially in the days following the race, once everything had really settled down into his mind, once he had time to talk it through with the team as well. He never should have been put in that position, and the team knew they fucked up, but that still didn’t help how your boyfriend was feeling.

Let down by the people in whose hands he puts his life in every race weekend, by the people he trusts with his life and who have helped him make all of his dreams come true. He was let down by the people he considered a second family. And he didn’t know how to feel about that.

With the summer break, you figured that he would finally disconnect from everything, find himself again and recharge his batteries for the remainder of the season. 

But then came the videos from Grill the Grid.

You always watched the videos, finding comfort and laughing wholeheartedly at the competitiveness all the drivers displayed in such meaningless little games, it was heartwarming for everybody watching.

However, this time, that wasn’t the case.

From the very beginning of the first video, you had noticed something was off with Lando, in every single segment that he was in. He was quiet, he didn’t have the energy he always showed when doing the challenges. He seemed like it was the last place where he wanted to be, he was doing something he would rather not even hear about. At least, that’s what his demeanor showed.

Seeing the way Lando was through the entire video, it only added to your worries. 

You had just touched down in Greece with a couple of your friends, and you were laying on the soft bed of your hotel room while Lando was taking a shower. He hadn’t heard what you were watching, he probably would have stopped you from even clicking on the video. He didn’t want you to see him like that, he didn’t want to make you worry even more than you already were.

Pausing the video and putting your phone on the bed next to you, you sat there, chewing your bottom lip while thinking things over in your head. Should you ask him about it? Should you just ignore it? 

No, you had to check up on him. You knew him better than anyone, and you knew he tended to bury his feelings deep down and just shut everyone out whenever he was feeling down. And sadly, you feared that was happening right before your eyes, and you hadn’t noticed until then.

You hadn’t been waiting on the bed for long before the bathroom door opened and Lando walked out, a towel hanging low on his hips and water dripping from his freshly-washed curls. 

“Hey” he said, glancing your way briefly before he made his way to your shared walk-in closet to find some underwear and clothes to sleep in.

You smiled at him, your eyes following his every move. You went back to chewing your lip, your mind overwhelmed with dozens of thoughts attacking you at high speeds. You were itching to just blurt it out, make him sit down and talk to you about whatever it was that was bothering him.

But you knew you couldn’t do that. He would never open up if it felt like you were pressuring him into doing so. You were aware of that, but you also knew that he desperately needed to talk to someone, and you preferred that someone be you.

“Hey babe?” you called out, waiting for a hum in reply before you continued. “Do you think we could have a little talk?” you called out, your eyes stuck on your fingers while you waited for a response.

There was silence for a couple of minutes before Lando emerged back into the bedroom, now freshly dressed in a pair of boxers and a white T-shirt. His eyebrows were furrowed, worry settling into the pit of his stomach.

“Is something wrong?” he asked worriedly, taking a seat next to you on the bed and resting his hand on your knee.

You sat up and crossed your legs, shuffling closer to him and taking his hand in yours.

Looking up at him and admiring his beautiful eyes, you noticed the turmoil going around behind his irises, making you smile sadly at the poor boy in front of you.

“You know they posted the first Grill the Grid video today, right?” he nodded, still looking at you eagerly. “Well, I was watching it, because you know I like the little challenges they make you all do. And I couldn’t help but notice a few things about it” you carefully worded your ideas, trying not to seem like you were attacking him in any way.

“What do you mean? What things?” he asked, the worry in his stomach growing stronger and stronger.

You sighed, looking down at your joined hands on your lap. 

“Baby, are you okay?” you asked, looking back up at him with worried eyes.

His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, his heart suddenly beating out of his chest. He was okay, right? He had to be okay, he didn’t have time to be anything but okay.

“I’m fine, why are you asking? Babe, what’s going on?” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’m worried about you, Lando. The person I saw in that video is not you, baby. You didn’t smile once during the video and I know how much you love filming Grill the Grid. It looked like you didn’t even want to be there, baby” you explained, shuffling closer to him until your knees were touching.

Lando had since looked away from you, his gaze stuck on the fuzzy carpet at the foot of the bed. 

He knew you were bound to notice he wasn't himself. As much as he had tried to hide it and pretend like nothing was wrong, he knew he couldn’t hide from you for much longer.

Truth is, he was tired. Tired of always pretending everything was okay, tired lt making it seem like he was positive and trusting in his team, a team which had let him down in the last weeks more than anybody else in his entire life.

He couldn’t pretend anymore, he didn’t want to pretend that he was okay when everything inside of him was screaming for help.

“Yeah, I’m worried about me too. I was hoping I’d get better before you noticed” he mumbled, chuckling sadly as he took your hand in his and started playing with your bracelets.

Your eyes widened, worry sinking even deeper into the pit of your stomach. You had so desperately wanted him to tell you what he was feeling, that everything you had thought you had seen was in your head, but he did the exact opposite. He had confirmed every painful suspicion you had had, and you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel about it.

“Talk to me, baby. What’s going on?” you urged him, resting your head on his shoulder.

He sighed, biting his lip. He really thought he would have had more time to prepare for the conversation, but he might as well just tell you everything now. It would make it easier on him.

Looking up at you, he turned around so he was facing you, making you sit up straight and look at him worriedly.

“Truth to be told, I haven’t been doing all that well these past couple of weeks, and it’s got nothing to do with you or our relationship” he said, putting some of your concerns to rest. “Ever since Miami, everything’s been feeling half-done, or thrown away in a way. Max took me out in Russia, the team fucked up my strategy at Silverstone, they made me give up my win in Hungary, they fucked everything up in Belgium. I just don’t understand why they’re behaving like this” he confessed, making your heart break a little.

It was extremely disappointing for you to see how let down Lando felt by his team, a team that he considered to be his second family. He had dedicated his entire Formula 1 career to make sure McLaren would become great again, and now that it was finally happening, he and Oscar were taking the brunt of it, and he wasn’t okay with that.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry you feel this way. I know how tough things can be, and I wish you'd told me sooner. I hate knowing how much you were hurting and I wasn’t there to comfort you” you said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing him into a side hug.

“I didn’t realize how much it was bothering me until the summer break began, you know. I finally had some free time to think about everything, and I don’t like the conclusions I’ve drawn” he said, his voice muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“And what are those, baby?” you urged him on, knowing he needed to get everything off his chest before he truly felt relieved.

He sighed, changing his position so he was now laying down on the bed with his head in your lap, your fingers almost immediately latching onto his curls.

“I’ve given them my entire career, I’ve stuck with them for such a long time and I signed an extension for even more years, and yet they seem to forget about all of that. Even when everyone was telling me to look elsewhere, when I got offers from Red Bull, I never even thought about leaving the team. I just sometimes wish they would show me the gratitude and respect I think I deserve after sticking with them for so long” he explained, shutting his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of your hands playing with his hair.

You bit your lower lip, nodding softly as you stared off into the distance. 

“I understand how you feel, and I wish there was more that I could do to help you. But I think you just need to disconnect from everything during this break, like not even think about racing at all for the entire month. You need a break, spend some time with me and your family, enjoy just living your life for a little and then you get back with a fresh mind” you suggested, your other hand cupping his cheek.

He hummed, but eventually nodded.

“You’re right. I just want to spend some time alone with you, I haven’t been able to just enjoy having you with me these past couple of weeks and I need to make it up to you” he said, opening his eyes and giving you a little smile.

You smiled back at him, leaning down and pressing your lips against his.

And even though you knew you and Lando still had a long way to go until he would finally feel content, you were determined to get through this.

Together.

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[plasticferal]

hey queen! can you pls do an angst story with chris. where they get into an argument and chris said things he never meant. then he apologizes to her afterwards. ( basically angst to fluff)

damsel in distress | chris sturniolo.

i added my own twist to this ask. it's my favourite prompt so thank you! 18+ protective!ex-boyfriend chris x fem!reader. fighting, touches on themes of unwanted attention, mentions of alcohol, explicit language. reader discretion is advised. p.s inspired by the unreleased olivia rodrigo song 'prison for life'.

the house is filled with familiar faces and strangers. a small gathering turned into a full blown house party from the moment the word got out. where the sturniolo triplets are, a flock follows. you sigh, pushing and shoving your way through the unwanted crowd.

all you want is to make it into the kitchen, miraculously being the only place no one wants to linger. the last person you need to see right now is your ex lover. chris is standing ahead of you, leaning on the kitchen counter, alone in the room. you shut the doors behind you, needing to escape. even if it means with him.

“if you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked." he speaks smug, before taking a sip from his red solo cup.

“i'm not in the mood,” you dismiss. you open the fridge, eyes scanning the shelves but nothing calling your name.

you know you're not actually looking for anything, you just don't want to look at him. the entire night has you shaking with anger. from the mess in your home, the lack of care everyone is taking, the noise complaint you know you'll be getting later, and worst of all, that one guy who won't leave you alone.

you've never seen him before tonight, you don't even know his name, but all he's done is make you uncomfortable. try to dance with you, try to give you drinks. he brushes your waist every time he walks past.

all of your friends have been encouraging you to go for it, to get over chris. and honestly, you consider it for a moment. just to finally move on, but you can't bring yourself to. at least not with some random creep.

the break up is still raw. he tells everyone it was 'mutual' but it was a part on your request. he'd never throw you under the bus like that. he knows why you made your decision, he's never questioned it.

chris feels like it's unrequited love. although, you haven't lost any love for him, no matter how much you try to push him away. he has every right to despise you, but he doesn't.

every time you close a chapter with him, you find yourself in a sequel. it's like you're re-reading different stories, but the ending stays the same. your heart wants him, your brain wants to hate him.

"what's wrong?" he asks, sensing you're genuine in your frustration.

"nothing." you refuse to let him know what's happing in your world, let alone your mind. you don't need to let in him anymore, even though you want to let it out. he's the one person who could just sit and listen to you for hours on end.

"alright, just askin" his words trail off into a hush. he switches the tone, not wanting the conversation to stop.

“your friends are nice” he speaks in a sickeningly sweet tone, because if anyone knows how to kick you while you're down, it's him.

"you would think that" you scoff, implying that you've seen them throw themselves at him all night. him pouring them drinks, smiling and frothing over the attention he's receiving.

"the fuck is that supposed to mean?" his temperamental side seeps out, and you grow only more irritated.

"chris, can you get out please?" you huff, hands crossing over your chest. an unintentional way to seperate yourself from him, a metaphorical wall being put up.

"such a party pooper. you really gotta let loose, relax a bit." his words come out a lot more nasty that you hope he meant them, and it makes your face hot.

you give him the benefit of the doubt and think he's speaking with resilience, at the fact you keep shutting him down.

"i wonder why we ever broke up." you reply sarcastically, a fake smile on your face. he rolls his eyes, finishing off his drink and letting out an audible "ah," like a child finishing a juice box.

"i haven't seen you all night, y/n" his voice softens, and it becomes clear he's speaking for the sake of talking to you. he always wants to talk to you.

looking at the counter quickly to place his cup down, he looks back at you, tilting his head to the side slightly. he's not being horrible to you, he never has been. he's still in your life whether you like it or not, despite your hostility.

"sorry. i'm just tired." you lie. he knows it.

"your poker face isn't very good. i learnt that the hard way," he bounces his eyebrows, biting the tip of his tongue, eyes a bit wider as he stares at the ground and you can tell he's having a flashback.

you chuckle at the reference. the one time he caught you faking an orgasm didn't end very well, and he's been able to catch you out ever since. he's never been afraid to pull you up on your own fibs.

"sorry, again." you hug your body tighter, avoiding his eyes. he pushes himself off the counter with a stretch like hum and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"stop apologizing, you sound like matt," he rolls his eyes lightheartedly, and you let out a small laugh. that's always his intention, to make you smile.

"c'mon princess, let's get you a drink. seems like you need it." he nods toward to the door, rubbing your shoulder enthusiastically.

you let him try to fix your mood, because god knows you do actually need to stop stressing. you can't control what happens, just how you react. that's what chris always used to say when you were together.

feeling safe in his embrace, he security guard style moves you through the party. he hollers "excuse me!" and "coming through!" and everyone just listens, parting like the red sea. he's not the biggest guy in the room, but he sure is the most assertive. especially with you under his arm.

when you finally get to the drinks table, he makes you a vodka lemonade, saving the rest of the can for himself to finish off. it's not the most thrilling drink, but enough to keep you settled. ease the tension a bit. plus, it tastes good. no harm, no foul. as chris is mixing the liquids into cups, you feel an unwanted hand snake up around your hip.

"there you are. are you hiding from me?" your stomach drops at the voice of the mystery man towering over you, and you look ahead to watch chris's eyes snap up instantly.

chris lowers the cups, holding his eyes on the man behind you. you watch as he kinks his neck and his jaw tenses, taking a step closer. you shake your head at chris, holding a hand up subtly to tell him not to come any closer.

turning around, you stare up at the man. his breath reeks of liquor, and his shirt is drenched is sweat. it makes you sour your face and tense your entire body.

"i don't know what you want from me, but it's not gonna happen. i think you should leave." you speak sternly, trying not to let your voice shake with pure nerves. not even liquid confidence could help you right now.

"the party's just getting started," the man smiles, stumbling toward you in what you think is an attempt at a hug, but you begin pushing his body away from yours with a shove.

"dude, she doesn't want you. walk away." you hear chris's direct voice over your shoulder.

the last thing you want is negative attention on chris in a room full of people who would spread the news like wildfire. you never want that for him.

"it's okay, i got this." you dismiss chris in the nicest possible way, but you're being serious.

"come on, we'll have fun," the man hiccups through his words, mumbling them and tripping over toward you again.

"get the fuck away from her." chris's breath hits the back of your neck as he moves even closer to you.

"christopher, i'm serious. stop." you speak through grit teeth, so people can't read your lips, as he lingers next to you.

you try to be as inconspicuous as you can in your rejection to his advances, but he won't give up. the man appears more annoyed, and he grabs your wrist with a tight grip.

"let go of me." you grab the mans hand, trying to pry his grip without making it obvious.

you’re shaking at the thought of attention drawing. not for you, but for chris. eyes are already on you, being his ex. it's not what he ever wanted for you either. if he could make it all disappear, he would. it becomes more difficult when chris notices, and this time, has no intention of backing down.

"i'm not gonna repeat myself, back the fuck up." chris walks around your body, face to face with the guy who has a hold on you now.

"please, chris." you beg, voice quivering.

you know his temper can change in the blink of an eye. him and matt both have that in common.

"she doesn't need your help, pretty boy." the man splatters his words, a malicious smile on his face as he leans toward chris, almost nose to nose.

chris smiles criminally, flashing his teeth.

"you're right," chris puts his hands up in defence, a downward smile on his face as he chuckles darkly, taking a big step backward.

there's a feeling of relief, and intense fear as he actually does start to back away. but you know chris. unfortunately, it's unavoidable.

you try to catch his eyes, and speak through a begging stare without using words. he looks at you with sadness, and you mime the words, 'please don't'.

the moment the man tugs your wrist as if to leave with him, making you wince with the grip he holds. you regret your counteraction instantly, because chris reacts viscerally.

he flares his nostrils and squeezes his nails into his palm, balling up his hands by his hip. his knuckles are turning white.

before you can get pulled away, chris lunges forward with a tight fist, throwing a strong, perfectly aligned punch to the mans cheekbone. it throws the man to the ground in the blink of an eye, relieving the pressure on your skin. you stumble backwards, out of the line of fire.

chris steps heavily forward, shoving a foot into his ribcage before straddling his legs, completely overpowering him. the man projects forward to swing and hit chris's mouth. chris doesn't even flinch, like it was painless. you watch chris raise his arm up again to pummel down onto the now defenceless stranger.

the surrounding crowd gasps and yells, clearing the space that chris has created with his actions. iphone cameras flash, making you feel sick. the whispering and gossip you can already hear pounding in your head is overwhelming.

you feel so futile. chris is too in his own world to even realise the repercussions. you're not saying the guy didn't deserve it, you have no care in the world for him. you care about the aftermath.

in a fantasy world, a daydream, a fairytale even, this is attractive. a knight in shining armour, fighting for his lady. a world where there are no consequences, or social media, or fear. a reality chris has suddenly forgotten about.

he looks natural doing it, too. the veins in his arms so prominent, his tight mouth and huffed breaths as he gives it everything he's got.

you're frozen in shock, watching chris pelt another punch into the man, and you want to pull him off, you know you need to, but all your body can do is watch. watch the two men roughhousing and exchanging blows, chris taking every hit with pride.

you're numb to the feeling, screaming in your head.

appearing out of thin air, nick and matt are in your line of vision, hiding the chaos ahead of you. his brothers move into action before anyone else needs to.

they've obviously been summoned, but there's a part of you that believes they could just sense it. like they telepathically knew chris was getting himself into trouble by the lack of surprise they express.

nick grabs chris by the collar of his shirt, pulling him off. matt grabs his wrists, to stop him from using his fists. the fight comes undone, finally, but chris is disoriented. he spits onto the man as he's being escorted into the kitchen by his brothers.

your eyes burn with tears that refuse to fall, and matt sweeps your hand up, guiding you with them in a hurried manner. matt is trying to snap you back to reality, but it's just white noise.

chris hits his palm aggressively with frustration against the door frame of the kitchen as you all walk through, and you take a deep breath to compose yourself. your eyes are still welling as you choke back a sniffle, and you're not sure if it's shock, hurt, or anger anymore.

you're in a trance as you walk over to the freezer. your body is in autopilot, moving without you even knowing. you grab a frozen bag of vegetables out of the tray.

"so fucking stupid," you say nastily under your breath, slamming the door shut.

walking over to chris who's sat up on the ledge of the sink. you throw the packet at his chest, and he grabs it, questioning you for a second before matt walks over and shows him to place it on his bruised and red raw knuckles.

the room is filled with tension.

matt is biting his nails, you're leaning against the closed door, and nick finds himself squatting on the floor.

"what the actual fuck was that?" nick is too stunned to even yell, he just speaks aloud.

"i asked you not to, chris. i could have handled it myself." you shake your head, vision blurry as you stare vacantly ahead. you want to lash out at him, but for some reason you can't.

"yeah, it really looked like you had it under control." he crushes the frozen packet harshly against his hand.

"we'll leave you two alone." matt cuts through awkwardly, shooting nick a warning glare.

matt knows it's not his place to go off at chris right now. he'll do that later.

"but-" nick begins, and matt snaps toward the door. you hear nick sigh, knowing he would love nothing more than to stay and listen to you tear into chris. alas, they both leave promptly, matt flashing you a sympathetic smile on the way out.

you can hear from the other side of the door, both nick and matt are hustling trying to kick everyone out. it’s a weight lifted off your shoulders. the literal mess being left behind is the least of your worries now.

you're alone with chris in the kitchen again, the second time not being anymore pleasant than the first. you blame yourself fully for dropping your guard, even if for a second.

“i begged you not to, chris.” you repeat with a stern tone, laced with betrayal and genuine hurt.

he’s silent for a moment, staring at you from across the room with no emotion on his face. you know he feels terrible, he doesn’t have to show it. or tell you.

“did you think i was just gonna stand and watch?” he rebuttals.

“i would have preferred that, honestly.” you don’t understand how he can’t grasp the intensity of the situation.

"did you want him? go back out there then." he's bitter, pointing at the door. you roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief.

"chris," you start. he keeps talking.

“because i’m sure he’s still laying on the floor. go ahead. he might have a hard time talking now, though.” chris shrugs, speaking in a provoking manner.

“you’ll be lucky if he doesn’t press charges." you apprise.

“he should feel lucky i didn’t do worse.” he takes another step toward you, presumptuous in the way he carries himself.

"you've done a lot of stupid shit, chris. but that," you raise your hand as you speak, laughing in shock.

"that was unbelievable." you pinch the bridge of your nose, taking yet another deep breath.

"you know what's unbelievable is how you haven't even thanked me once" he ignores your words and bites back with irritation, face growing more twisted with upset.

"thank you?" you repeat, jaw dropping. you step toward him this time. you feel dejected trying to get him to understand.

"thank you for what? for causing a scene? for putting yourself in danger?" you step forward again, feeling like you could drive your heels into the ground beneath you.

"you're acting insane" he brings his hands to his head, tugging at his own hair with despair. his words sting, despite the back and forth arguing.

"you're the one that lashed out on that guy with no consideration for anyone else around you. that's insane" you speak with physical gestures unconsciously.

you're trying to reason with him, but with the state he's in, it's like trying to put a brain in a statue. you examine him, trying to search for his eyes but his body won't keep still, twisting and moving around.

"fuck, okay, i get it! i get it, y/n. you're not happy with me. you never fucking are apparently," his words trail off and he waves you away, turning his back to you. he sounds desperate for it to end.

you want to scream at him at the top of your lungs, and quite frankly, you could. your face burns and steam is about to shoot out of your ears.

"you don't need to protect me anymore, chris."

"i saved your ass out there." he speaks with his hand, four fingers direct to your chest. his words are like salt being rubbed into an open wound.

"saved me? that's a fucking stretch. your brothers saved your ass, because you don't think before you fucking act!"

"this is about YOU, y/n! what i did for you!" he slaps the back of right hand into the palm of his left.

"i'm not some damsel in distress that you need to sweep up and put in a tower, chris"

"yeah well at least in a tower you can't attract trouble." he speaks as if it's your fault, and of all the things he's just spit out, that's by far the worst. the most menacing and cut to the bone tone he's used.

"that was low, even for you." you huff, emotions at an all time high.

your breathing feels tight, but instead of reacting, you force yourself to seperate your emotions from the reality of the situation. you're both feeling very intensely, and expressing it the same way.

in hindsight, you could have redirected some of your emotions, but you also wish chris would take back some things he's said. there's no excuses.

chris re-collects himself and turns toward you again. he shrugs his shoulders, like he has nothing left to say. no fight left.

the closer chris is standing the more prominent his face is, and more specifically, his busted open lip.

you gasp in a mix of being upset, and shock. it feels like a piece of your heart is breaking off, seeing his delicate, pale skin so sore.

"your lip, chris." you exhale, stepping toward him.

he flinches when your hand raises to touch his face, and you know now that you've acknowledged it, it's hurting him. neither of you paid any attention to it amongst the turmoil.

"come here." you sigh, pulling his arm, bringing him over to where the paper towels are, in the corner of the sink.

tearing a white square into your hands, you rinse it under cold water lightly before squeezing the saturation out, leaving a damp cloth in your hand.

turning into chris's body, he looks down at you. he's still at last, and looks like he has no thoughts behind his now seemingly innocent eyes.

you cup his cheek gently, to turn his face downward. you bring the towel up to his lip, wiping his stained chin and mouth. he lets you, and doesn't even wince. he visibly gives into your touch. he's content.

"i need you to promise me you'll never do something like that again." you pull back, folding over a clean side and then wiping his lip softly, trying not to cause him pain.

"i can't promise that." he speaks in a whisper, as if he doesn't want you to hear his word.

with his lip no longer being red, you toss the damp and crumbling paper into sink, making it a problem for another time.

"why?" you look into his eyes, wiping your hands on your shirt.

his blue eyes are big but blameless, pupils dilated. holding his stare as your arm lowers.

"because if anyone lays a hand on you again, i'm going to prison for life." the piece of your heart that broke off earlier reattaches at his words alone.

chris's much shorter hair is spikey around his ears, and wet at the ends, turning dark brown from his sweat. you caress his messy curls, tucking it over the curves of his ears and taming the wispy strands. you hold his head in your hands, tiling him up and your mouths are inches apart.

"how hard did he hit your head?" you ask against his lips. he chuckles, genuinely.

he's an idiot, undeniably. but the gut wrenching, lawless love he has for you makes him that way. his low, smooth laughter, makes your heart skip a beat.

"i mean it, y/n."

"but i know, i know it was stupid." he admits.

"yeah, it was." you agree, shaking his head around slightly.

he grabs your hands with his own, engulfing them and holding them in his palms. he squeezes your hands, bringing them to his lips and kissing your knuckles.

"i'm sorry." he speaks on your skin.

"like really fucking sorry." he strains his head back with remorse, making his adam's apple more prominent, and he swallows hard. like he's swallowing his guilt.

"i said some nasty things. i wish i could take them back, y/n. i really do."

"i know, chris."

"no, you don't. i'll apologise to you everyday for the rest of my life if i have to. i've been horrible tonight."

"chris, enough," you hush him, the calmness in your tone making him understand you hear him. loud and clear. you need some time to forgive, but you absorb his words.

"i don't know how you didn't smack me in the mouth." he jokes, and you giggle through your breath.

"there's still time," you joke back. and he knows it by your tone.

"i could never bring myself to do that. as much as you deserve it." your banter eases the pressure, and you feel chris squeeze your hands in his again.

you rub your thumbs over his knuckles, looking at the little purple marks forming. he notices your face drop with stress, and he slips his hands away, moving to your hips instead.

"hey, i'm fine. i don't care what happens to me, i just need you to be okay."

"i am okay," you reply. he drops his face with a look that expresses he doesn’t believe you. you give a light eyeroll, and small smile.

"i mean it, i swear.” you raise your pinkie finger to him, to keep your promise. knowing it’s the only way he’ll actually believe you.

chris smiles, weak with his bruised lip, and wraps up your pinkie with his own, wriggling your hands around.

"i'm always gonna want to protect you." he pulls you toward his body. he's so warm, and radiates a magnetic energy that makes you want to collapse into his arms.

you know you don't need him to, but deep down, you would like his protection. his unconditional love. selflessness.

"i'll be sure to send you love letters in jail" you grin up at him, and laughs from the chest.

his voice is like a scratched record, fatigue taking over his body. you swallow hard, all of your senses coming back. he feels so real standing in front of you all of a sudden, like it's not just a dream you're about to wake up from.

"stay the night." you speak mindlessly.

chris brushes your hair from your face, cupping the back of your neck lightly to pull your forehead to his lips, kissing just above your eyebrows gently. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, pulling you tight to his chest in an embrace.

"i'll stay forever if you ask me to."

this is the feeling he fights for. requited love.

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

[sdv-roseglass-farm]

NSFW Elliott headcannons

'Hi, um could I request Elliott nsfw headcanons with a female reader? Please and thank you!' - Anonymous

Hello! Thank you for the request, sorry it took me so long :) I hope you enjoy them! I wrote for both him alone, gender neutral, female and male readers :)

Word count: 1386

Masturbation headcannons:

He is 100% a virgin before meeting you, but he definitely isn't completely lost about sex or what he enjoys

He may be one of the older bachelors but he has rather poor social skills so he has not gotten far with anyone

With getting stressed about writing, he enjoys edging himself to encourage himself to get a certain amount write before cumming

With edging himself so much, especially in a writing block, he often ends up in tears out of desperation

With living alone on the beach he doesn't have to worry about people hearing him so he is very noisy, especially with dirty talk

He enjoys reading sexual romance novels and not letting himself touch himself until he finishes the book

Sex toys are all kept under his bed in a box, where he has different things including different types of vibrators and dildos.

He uses the vibrators and dildos as different ways to edge and tease himself

He loves watching porn where the participants are overstimulated and covered in cum

Watching someone using a fuck machine and become super messy is one of his favourite types of videos to get off to

With gen!reader:

Dirty talk is his specialty to the point that half the time he doesn't even realise it - and terms of endearment fall out his mouth with so much ease you would think he has forgotten your name

He sounds rather proper due to his large vocabulary from spending all of his time reading since he was young, but watching him fall apart due to it is the best thing

He is always willing to experiment, but doesn't like much physical pain, finding it too distracting.

He prefers to use soft material to be tied or to tie you up with rather than handcuffs or rough rope

He loves being able to hear the person he is with, being able to hear the become more of a mess due to him

Cockwarming when he is writing is something he loves, though he loses track of what he is meant to be writing so easily as the sight and feel of you on him makes his mind blank

He prefers watching you go down on him mostly, just because the sight of drool, his cum and your tears all over your face can cause him to cum without being touched

You cockwarming him with your mouth under his desk makes him feel as though he is permanently on the brink of orgasm

He does sometimes lose control with grabbing your hair and face-fucking you, but he is never rough with it and is always careful to not hurt you too badly

No matter the gender of his partner or their genitals, he will keep a hair tie on his wrist in preparation if he does end up having oral sex that day, as he prides himself on his hair and likes to keep it out of the way when being so intimate

While he is down for a lot of things, he does become very flustered for your first few times and doesn't fully open up to experimenting until after becoming more comfortable

You are his number one priority and will all be checking in with you throughout no matter what you do to make sure that you are okay and enjoying yourself

He will make sure you have deep discussions before trying anything new and your plans, such as if you want him to come inside you he will talk about protection for stds (and pregnancies for people with a uterus)

he firmly believes that you can tell a lot from someone's eyes and prefers positions where you can see one another

If he is writing erotica, even just to practice his writing skills, he will experiment with you to make sure the things are possible such as the positions or the look someone gets

With fem!reader:

He enjoys eating you out, watching his mouth cause you so much pleasure but with his unconscious habit of dirty talk he accidentally breaks away from your cunt a lot

Sitting on his face and being in control is the best way to make sure this doesn't happen, and he sure won't be complaining as he loves the sight of you on top of him

He loves making you wet and watching your wetness drip from your cunt

Filling you up with his cum and watching it leak from your pussy is honestly heaven to him, and he will use his fingers to spread it around and over your clit to cause you cum again and push more of his cum out

He uses it as an excuse to fill you up again, loving the feeling of your walls milking his cock

While he will use lube with you, he prefers using your own wetness and his cum to make you messy

The best position in his mind is against his desk or on the kitchen counter, where he can watch your face as you come undone and watch your tits bounce with every movement

Overstimulation is definitely expected with him as your partner, as he will love continuously going and watching your cunt become red from the amount of attention it is receiving and from the impact of his thrusts

With his love for watching you become wet and messy, he will sometimes nick some of your underwear and become instantly turned on at any dampness on them, especially if there is any slickness in them

He will keep your underwear for a couple of days, getting off on the smell of them before returning them to your laundry

He is fully on board if you ever want to peg him, with having used dildos on himself and has offered to let you watch him ride one

With male!reader:

He enjoys giving you a blowjob, watching you lose yourself to pleasure from his mouth alone is a massive turn on

You fucking his face is definitely a turn on for him, with your cock being shoved down his throat at a pace he doesn't control causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head

He has offered to let you watch him ride one of his dildos before, and is more than willing to take either role when it comes to anal sex

He uses an excess amount of lube, loving how messy it makes you and uses your precum to help make you messier

He will make you cum multiple times, preferring you to come on him or on your body rather than on the desk or bed

He will use his fingers to push any of your cum that has spilt out of him back inside of him

He is more than willing to lick up any cum off of you, whether you scoop some up with your fingers or if it is off your stomach

He will use a desk or bed to help make sure you can both face one another still during anal sex

He is more than willing to ride you or let you ride him, with it definitely causing him to talk a lot more

He will consistently overstimulate you and milk your cock - loving the mixture of pleasure and pain and the look in your eyes with how blank your mind goes from the amount of times he made you cum

Aftercare:

He will clean you off and make sure you are okay

He will make sure you are comfortable, wrapping you up in his duvet cover while fetching you both some water and something to eat

After making sure you have eaten and drank something he will help you to the bathroom to pee and to also make sure you are fully cleaned up

He will then help you back and pull you to his chest, and have a discussion about what you enjoyed, didn't enjoy etc.

Your enjoyment is his number one priority and he is the king at communication

If you need something he will run off to grab it for you, making sure that you are not hurt physically or emotionally

He will hold you to his chest for however long you want, while making sure you know his own feelings on what happened

[zae-heeyyy]

Erudition

Summary: Arthur teaches you how to read. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,790 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: I spent an unnecessary amount of time perfecting this one. Tried my hand at sketching/tracing/cut and pasting pieces of Arthur's original journal to make this one (don't look at it too close lol). Hope you enjoy!

Edit: If you didn’t know, it was common for adults to be illiterate in 1899 due to the lack of widespread public education.

erudition: the quality of having or showing great knowledge or learning; scholarship.

Poor Hosea had tried everything in an effort to teach you how to read: encouraging you with kind words first, then employing tough love tactics when your stubbornness hindered your progress. On one particular day, you had enough of each other. In a rare moment of weakness, he slammed his hand on the table when you refused to try.

"Wanna be an illiterate ninny your whole life, do ya?" A scowl etched deep lines on his face, and you stormed off, not saying a word. A cough riddled him, and he bowed his head in part frustration and part regret for letting himself lose his temper with you. He only wanted the best for you, even if you didn't want it for yourself.

A particular contemplative cowboy had been watching a short distance away, a pattern Hosea had noticed lately. Still coughing, he waved him over.

"Ah, Arthur. I know you're smarter than you look. Maybe you can reach that girl. I've done all I can, I fear." He pressed the book into Arthur's hand in more of a silent demand than a request. Arthur nodded in understanding, sighing, wondering how he'd been demoted from gang enforcer to teacher.

Cursing under your breath, you prayed that Arthur would just walk away, not because you didn't like him, but because you liked him too much. You and the other women got a kick out of watching him do chores around camp, his shirt nowhere to be found. He was damn gorgeous and didn't have a clue. Nobody else had a clue, either, that you wanted him. You wanted him in many ways and cared about what he thought of you.

The hope that he'd refuse Hosea's request or come another time fell short when his figure towered over you, shading you from the high noon sun. You kept your head bowed, refusing to meet his gaze until he tapped the book's hardback cover, bidding for your attention. Your eyes met his sheepishly. Reading him did not come easy either, especially in your interactions. Something about the way he carried himself around you left you feeling unsettled. There was a perpetual tension that he seemed to shed in the company of anyone but you. You didn't quite get it, though, because he always remained gentlemanly despite it all.

"C'mon." A sculpted, outstretched arm reached down to you, and you took it reluctantly, letting him lift you up from your spot. Following close behind, you let him lead you to the outskirts of camp near a boulder and a broken wagon. The cacophony of camp faded away as you joined him on the ground, your backs against the rock. You sat expectantly, concentrating on your fidgeting hands and fighting off the urge to cry.

"You just gotta focus," he said, opening the book to where you last left off and putting it back in your hands. Shaking your head, you tried to blink away hot tears building up behind your eyes.

"Don't want you to think less of me, Arthur. Don't wanna do it." Keeping your voice steady and suppressing the lump in your throat proved increasingly futile.

"Hush and focus." His tone only made the mystery of him hazier. How could he so easily switch between evil debt collector, out for blood, to nothing short of a gentle giant, so comforting and protective? The thought only made your vision cloud up more.

Blinking rapidly, you took a deep breath to calm yourself before reading the words on the page aloud. You could only get through the first sentence before your voice betrayed you, shaking unevenly, accompanied by a saline drop rolling down your face and onto the page.

"Hey..." Arthur clutched your chin and turned it to face him, forcing your eyes to heed his. "You gotta stick at things. I know it's hard, but that ain't no reason to cry about it." A rough thumb wiped away your tears. He scooted closer to you, wrapped one arm around your shoulders, and held the book with the other hand. "Just relax. It's just me and you out here. I ain't gonna think less of you or let anybody else, for that matter. Forget about all that." You held one side of the book with your left hand, and he had the other with his right, " Here, start again, slow now."

Goosebumps prickled your skin as a wave of calm washed over you. Arthur stayed patient while you composed yourself and read through twice, the second time outshining the first. He nudged you with his elbow, flashing a toothy grin. "See? Not so bad," he remarked. With another breath, not as shaky as your other ones, you closed the book and returned it to him, feeling more accomplished than you had in a while.

Now that your attention wasn't being spent so much, the pounding in your ears grew louder, the source of the sound leading to none other than the relentless beating of your heart. The musk of tobacco and leather infiltrated your nose, making you suddenly aware of how close you were to him. He removed this arm from your shoulders, the missing weight of it making you feel unexpectedly empty. Before he could scoot away some more, you turned to kiss his cheek.

"Thank you, Arthur, for helping me. I know I'm not easy to work with." He smiled shyly and dipped his head, avoiding eye contact. A silence fell between you, and you spoke again, dismissing yourself. "I should probably get back to it." You gathered your skirts to stand, and he wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could walk away. Even though crimson had crept up in his ears and neck, he kept his face impassive as always.

"When Ms. Grimshaw can spare you, come find me, and we'll keep at it."

So you did. You'd meet in the clearing behind the rock on the rare moments of shared free time, continuing the routine, and you were getting better every day. Then, Arthur brought you a mystery book that he'd found or stolen, and it was nothing like a Penny Dreadful, too complex and challenging for you to decode. You felt like you'd taken one step forward and two steps back.

And just like you'd done with Hosea a few days ago, you tried to storm away from Arthur. You didn't get far before his hands were on your hips, dragging you down into his lap. Faces inches apart, his hot breath warmed your face as he spoke, eyes stern.

"You can't just throw a tantrum whenever life gets hard, woman." Huffing in defiance, you opened your mouth to argue, but you closed it promptly, keenly aware of the change in his demeanor. Your eyes were on his, but his were on your lips. He licked his own, face set with resolve. Letting his forehead press against yours, he kissed you. Without a thought, you kissed him back, melting into his arms. Gaze intense, he tore away from you, talking low and firm. "You're gonna sit your pretty self down and do this, alright?"

Your hand went absentmindedly to your lips, drawing them in as you tasted him. Who knew a kiss was all you needed? With a gentle shove, he settled you back on the ground beside him, retrieved the book, and opened it once more.

When you finished, you looked at Arthur, and he was staring back at you with a cocky grin. It was the first time you'd read with no mistakes. You threw yourself back into his arms, climbing into his lap, a knee on either side of him. Holding you firm by the waist, Arthur didn't hesitate to kiss you again this time, letting desire he didn't even know he had guide him to you. He could have you like that for hours, and he did, only easing his grip on you when you heard pans banging, alerting you to dinner.

Arthur had discovered the key to motivating you, and since then, you discovered a newfound love for reading. You eagerly awaited your lessons, knowing the handsome outlaw's lips would be there for you when you finished.

Arthur was happy to help, but it wasn't just about the makeout sessions for him. Of course, he could die a happy man with you on top of him, but he loved how your eyes lit up when you made progress. He loved seeing you feel confident. He loved making you happy.

Though he wouldn't dare complain, he couldn't help the nagging feeling that Hosea had knowingly arranged this? Arthur tried to go unnoticed in his subtle observations of you, attempting to conceal the fact that he was sweet on you and had been for a while.

"Can't con a conman, Arthur," his surrogate father once told him. Maybe that wasn't just about robbing. The gunslinger wanted you so bad after all this time, needed you, and hoped you needed him just as much. He'd made himself free today, waiting patiently for you to finish your chores, keeping himself occupied with minor tasks. Just as you finished, you watched him disappear behind the grass and head to your spot.

You joined him; the book rested in his lap while he smoked a cigarette. You took the cigarette from him, having a drag yourself and giggling at your own mischief. He snatched it back from you, pretending to be annoyed but smiling nonetheless. Taking one more puff, he snuffed it in the grass. Before he could make another move, you took the book from his lap, replacing it with yourself. Your hands went to the nape of his neck, drawing his lips into yours. He kissed you back, entertaining you momentarily, but withdrew with his hands still resting on your backside.

"Read first, then I'll take care of ya', sweetheart." His eyes were half-lidded, and his voice lowered a few octaves, both weighed down with desire. You huffed and unmounted the cowboy, opening the book and reading, anything to feel his touch again. As you finished the last paragraph, your attention shifted to his hand kneading circles into your thigh. Breath thickening, his other hand fell to the hem of your dress, making it ride up as his hand traveled slowly up your leg.

The reading grew choppier now, your attention too consumed by his touch. You stopped reading altogether when his hand snaked over your thigh, and three of his fingers pressed against a warm, damp spot in the center of your bloomers. Flushing, a faint gasp escaped you.

"Gonna need to get these off, darlin'," he huffed into your ear. Wasting no time, you tossed the book aside and lifted your hips to slide the garment down around your ankles. Desire almost overpowered him; he wanted to devour you, to have his fingers and face buried between you, but he had a job to do, and he always finished the job.

Stopping, he moved his hand from your heat to your thigh and reached across you to grab the discarded book. Clearing his throat, he thumped the book, "Another page." Incredulous, you blinked a few times, gawking at him.

"Arthur, how do you expect me to focus when—"

He cut you off with a curt whistle and a stony glance, "Shut it, woman, and read." His grip tightened on your thigh. Those pools of blue and stern tone sent another jolt through you; god, if only he knew what he did to you. Like you were hypnotized, you opened the book, still very aware of your aching womanhood. He kissed your neck, his chest vibrating with amusement.

"Good girl," he murmured in your ear.

You were wrapped around his finger figuratively, and you craved to be literally, too. As you began to read aloud again, his hand smoothed over your thigh and landed right where you wanted it. He glided a finger up and down that sacred site, stopping on your clit and rubbing tiny circles there. Involuntarily, you arched up into his hand, and his name fell off your lips in a moan, your focus tearing away from the printed words at your hands. Then he stopped, taking away that sweet attention you loved so much.

"Shhh...Keep going;" his voice was low and deep, and he kissed down your neck to your shoulder. He moved his hand back when you started again; it was the most fluent you'd ever read. You don't know how you managed. As soon as you finished the last word on the page, you tossed the book and grabbed Arthur by the hairs on the back of his head, tugging him towards you and tasting him. He groaned and let a finger slip inside of you.

You gasped at the invasion, raising your hips off the ground and tilting into him. Pressing his lips to your ear, he kissed it and whispered mischievously, "You tryin' to get us caught?" You could feel him smile against your ear, and you pulled him to you once more, letting his mouth muffle your sounds of ecstasy.

He loved the way you felt, so velvety, slick, and tight. He teased you, pumping you with just one finger, then lightly circling your clit just to stop and caress you all over. You knew, and he knew, that he could bring you to that peak at any moment, but he didn't want it to be over just yet. He'd dreamed what you felt like for so long, how you'd respond to him, and now that it was reality, he wanted to savor every minute.

You were rocking your hips now, trying to feel any semblance of friction, trying desperately to reach the climax that Arthur kept you right on the edge of.

Then he sank two more large digits inside, making you press your head on his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut. He waited for you to adjust, kissing your ear and talking you through the girthy new additions. His thumb back on your clit caused a shiver to run down you as you relaxed.

"There you go," he mumbled in your ear, and you knew it wouldn't be long then. His thumb never left, keeping a constant speed and pattern as he worked you. Your stomach burned as that sweet, sweet tension built inside of you. Arthur buried his face in your neck, focusing on bringing you bliss. "That's it, sweet girl. Give it to me."

He groaned along with you as your embrace on his fingers tightened, and your body shuddered. He kept his hand there as you came down, relishing in the way your insides squeezed and released him over and over again. His head spun when he removed his fingers from you; you were so wet, all for him. He'd been so focused on you that the bulge in his pants went unnoticed until now.

Meanwhile, you had replaced your bloomers and smoothed out your skirt, trying to reset after the fireworks behind your eyes had exploded. You giggled, seeing Arthur give attention to his own building arousal. You beamed at him, all cheeky and coy.

"I think I hear Ms. Grimashaw looking for me," you teased, standing and dusting your skirt. His face fell bewildered, and you couldn't look at him in fear that your innocent act would falter. "Gonna have to bed me properly if you want more, Mr. Morgan."

With that, you winked at him and walked away, leaving Arthur with just his hand and imagination to satisfy him. You'd decided to join Hosea at a table, taking a piece of discarded newspaper and reading it yourself. He watched, a proud smile growing on his face. It only took Arthur five minutes to calm himself, reappearing from the treeline with eagle eyes that focused only on you.

Crazed, he approached you, placing a heavy hand on the small of your back before removing it hastily, remembering he was out in the open now. Hosea's eyes shifted between you discerningly. He coughed and gestured to the paper in your hand. "Well, Arthur, it seems you're a better teacher than me, after all." Neither of you caught the hint of amusement in his voice. You patted Hosea's shoulder and stood.

"Thanks, old man. I love reading now. In fact, me and Arthur are gonna go to town right now for some more Penny Dreadfuls. We'll bring you another paper, too."

Arthur perked up at this new suggestion and followed after you, practically tripping over himself as you headed towards his hitched horse. Hosea returned to his newspaper, kicking his feet up and chuckling to himself knowingly. His hunch had been right about you two, after all.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader on her period

Summary: Feyd doesn’t like anyone keeping him from his wife’s side, especially when she’s in pain. 

*Based on an anon ask. Whoever that was, I hope this makes it to you :)*

Notes/Warnings: the subject is reader’s period; period pain; naive Feyd; threatening and aggressive Feyd; soft Feyd; Feyd hates everyone but his wife; allusion to period sex but no actual smut, mention of pregnancy. 

Words: 1150

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

“Get out of my way!” he snaps from the other side of the bedroom door, and you swell with guilt as you imagine your handmaid shivering like an unprotected baby critter. Which, in Giedi Prime, is exactly what she is. 

She’s your critter that, at your request three weeks ago, Feyd agreed to have accompany you from your home planet following the wedding. You wanted something familiar and comfortable within reach and told him her presence would support you in adapting to your new life as his wife.

At the time, you took his compliance as a promising sign. He didn’t particularly care for the people of Caladan, but he cared for you enough to set aside his distaste for an additional outsider in his palace. But that distaste never fails to return tenfold whenever the Caladanian traditions and practices that your handmaid refuses to let go of get in Feyd’s way. 

“Move!” you hear in that menacing tone. 

You want to rush to her defense before things get out of hand, but you can’t so much as shift on the bed without your body aching. 

“M-My Lord,” Nadya stutters. “It’s not proper to see my Lady in her condition.”

A groan rips from your throat from more than just the pain in your abdomen. You’ve tried to explain to her that the Harkonnens do not abide by the same parameters of modesty that your people do, but she’s not nearly as open-minded when it comes to accepting a different lifestyle. However, she needs to shut her mouth and let him pass. There are much worse things than your husband witnessing you in the throes of monthly bleeding. 

Feyd practically growls, and then you hear the scrape of a metal knife unsheathing and a light feminine gasp. 

“I have not killed you solely because she requested it of me,” he says. “But if you refuse to let me see my wife, then I have no reason to continue my generosity and you will be offered to my harpies for their nighttime meal.”

Fuck. You know he’ll do it. Your husband is an ‘ask for forgiveness, not permission’ kind of man, and the fact that his harpies have been eyeing your handmaid for a while only encourages his mind’s reasoning. 

Reaching toward your nightstand, your fingers wrap around the handle of the little service bell you were given and give it a shake. A moment later, the door opens a crack. 

“My Lady,” your handmaid says in response to your call. She attempts to slip her body through a narrow opening between the door and its frame to prevent your husband’s entry, but Feyd shoves her aside at the first opportunity and rushes inside the room. 

His brow furrows at the sight of your body curled into a ball. “My love…” he mutters, racing to your side and kneeling by the bed. He takes your hand and weaves your fingers together, his worried gaze raking over your form. “What happened? What is this?”

“My Lady, I tried to stop–”

“Quiet!” Feyd snaps, shooting your handmaid a glare. “I’ll still gut you!”

Your fingers squeeze his to draw his attention back to you. “Go, Nadya. It’s ok,” you tell her. “My husband can take care of me.”

Feyd lips curl upward slightly, but his anxiety over your current state blocks a full-fledged smile from forming. His other hand raises to cup your cheek and you hum under his soft touch. 

In the corner of your eye, you can see Nadya hesitate. The frown on her face is prominent enough to be detected without your gaze directly upon her. But her agitation must cease. She has to learn and conform if she values her life. There is only so much you can do to protect her, and if Feyd reaches the breaking point of his willingness to allow opposition within his own marriage—especially due to someone who is neither you nor him—it’s unlikely you’ll be able to sneak her onto a ship and transport her back to Caladan before she is executed. 

You’ll have another discussion with her—the fourth, you think—once your body decides to end its self-punishment; assuming she survives that long. For the moment, at least, she has accepted your instruction and left you alone with your husband. 

“You’re hurting,” Feyd says once Nadya is gone. “How do I stop it?”

“It’ll stop in a couple of days.”

“Days?” he echoes, offended at the information. “I want it to stop now!” 

You sigh, placing your hand atop the one holding your cheek. “That would be nice, but that's not how it works,” you tell him. A pang of pain stabs your stomach and you moan.  

“How what works?” he rushes out.

“My monthly–” 

You pause at the curious expression on his face, and you realize he has no idea what you're talking about. You thought it was obvious what was wrong with you. You thought he understood. But then you remember he has lived a life with no mother, no sisters, no female relatives. There was no one to explain to him the unfair complexities of being a woman. And the Baron certainly wouldn’t have bothered. The way that man-beast mentally operates teaches that women are good for producing heirs, and in that respect, all Feyd would have needed to learn is how to stick his hard cock between a woman’s legs. To your appreciation, he does that quite well, but still, it’s surprising as much as unsurprising that your husband is so naive. 

Before you can expand your answer, Feyd says, “I’m not letting this happen ever again.”

You chuckle. “It’s monthly, my love, and I’m afraid it only doesn’t happen if I’m pregnant.” 

“Then I’ll make you pregnant,” he responds with an air of great determination. “And I’ll keep you that way.”

You’re instantly obsessed with the thought; perhaps too much considering you’ve known the man for two months and have been married to him for significantly less, but you do love him. And being filled with his baby creates an image that swirls a fire in your belly to combat some of the deep ache. 

You grin but it lasts only a second before your teeth are forced to clench, eyelids pinching shut at another wave of agony.

“I hate this,” Feyd says, brushing your hair back from your face.

Once you ride out the wave, your eyes open to meet his. “You know,” you start, your breath heavy. “I’ve heard rumors from other women back home about something that helps with the pain.” Feyd’s features eagerly come to life. “It’s a bit messy, though.”

“Whatever it is, my love, I’ll do it.”

“Ok,” you say, a lazy smile curving your lips. “Take off your clothes.”

Feyd’s eyes widen at the request. And then he smirks.

[forgeofthenine]

What if Zevlor/Rolan/Dammon's partner is a virgin and when they are at the tiefling party said partner reveals that they would be their first?

This request has been combined with the following request from @mairalynn416 'How would the tieflings react to Tav being a virgin? (totally don't have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable)'

I had a great time writing these headcanons and I love having a bit of smut thrown into my requests queue, I hope you guys both enjoy!

NSFW under the cut, slight mention of overstimulation in Dammons part

Tiefling bachelors with a virgin partner

Dammon

Literally one of the sweetest men in existence

He can tell as you're both stripping each other that something's bothering you

Pauses the kisses trailing down your neck to ask what's wrong

Dammon can't help but chuckle a bit when you admit he's your first, you just look so adorable

Reassures you that you don't have to do anything you don't want to

When you give him the go ahead he's back to stripping you bare, hands roaming over every inch of you body

The type to lay you back against your bedroll and give you head until you have tears in your eyes

Dammon definitely says it's just because he wants you fully prepared for what's to come

Doesn't even take off his pants when he goes down on you, he's too invested

When you do get his pants off it's no surprise what you see is a bit intimidating

Dammons cock is large and ridged, precum beading at the top as it hangs between his thighs

When he's easing into you he's just so sweet, little praises of how good you're taking him and a deep purring in his chest

Takes things slow and will stop if he thinks he's hurting you

Once your hips press together he's more than happy to press a firm kiss to your lips, waiting for you to get used to the feeling

Dammon is one of the best men to have as your first

Zevlor

Just getting Zevlor into your bed is an incredible experience

Having him take your virginity too? Mind-blowing

He has plenty of experience, and as soon as you tell him all of it gets put to good use

Zevlor takes everything slow, kissing you sweetly and having you sit on his lap

Moving you to grind against his thigh as he pulls off both your shirts between kisses

I can see him stripping you both down to your underwear before having you keep grinding on him

And, like the rest of his body, his thighs definitely have some very convenient infernal ridges

The way you look cumming as you grind on him is almost enough for Zevlor to reach his own end

He holds off though, and positions you both properly for the rest of his plan

After a small check in to know you want this, he'll help you ease down onto his cock

While he prefers missionary, having you ride him is a way for you to control the pace yourself

He's even bigger than Dammon is, long and thick enough to stretch you to the limit as you ease down on him

The whole time Zevlor is holding your hips to keep you steady, murmuring praises and encouragement

So careful as you finally take all of him, he can't even look because he knows the such a sight will be too much for him

So sweet when he helps you start lifting your hips again

When you're with Zevlor you're in very good hands

Rolan

This might be a controversial take but I can definitely see him as still being a virgin at the time of the tiefling party

The two of you are tipsy and after weeks of heated looks and innuendo laced comments the two of you have escaped to your tent

After a heavy make out session, one that ends with hickeys covering your neck, you admit that you've never been with anyone before

Rolan is instantly flustered and turned on

It's an instinctive thing, so is the way he stumbles over his words as he admits the same

He's so blushy and adorable

The two of you take things slow, mapping out each others bodies as you undress, kissing over collarbones and down stomachs

Eventually, Rolans fingers find where you need him most, a murmured spell from his lips covering them in lube before he presses one into you

And dear Gods do his fingers feel good

They're so long and dexterous, easily curling to press those sensitive spots inside you

There's no prettier sight to him than how you look cumming as he fingers you

When the two of you can't handle the build up any longer Rolan will have you on your hands and knees as he eases in

He's a bit embarrassed for you to see his face as he groans at the feeling of you pressing in around him

Luckily while Rolan is long, his girth isn't as intense as the others, and the ridges rubbing against you feel all too good as you take him

He barely waits before making small ruts of his hips into you, so needy for the feeling of you squeezing around him

Honestly, Rolan is a top tier tiefling to have as your first and only

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Kinktober day 8 | Tate Langdon x Reader

Day 8: mommy kink

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+, grinding, praising, slight degrading, overstimulation,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’I like when you do that.’’ 

‘’Do what?’’ 

‘’Fix my hair when it gets in my face. Run your hand down my back when I’m laying down. Make sure I ate today,’’ he explained as you rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held hands on the way home, sensing his anxiety after a long day. You had a knack for knowing exactly what he needed. ‘’Take care of me.’’ 

‘’I just love you. People take care of the ones they love,’’ you said simply. 

Tate looked down at the sidewalk, his old converses suddenly very interesting to look at. ‘’I’ve never had anyone taking care of me before,’’ he admitted, feeling a lump of sadness settling in his stomach. 

His words made your heart ache. It was rare Tate would bring up his home life, preferring to escape it than bother you with his problems, but you knew Constance never really took good care of Tate — or any of her children. She was a terrible and neglectful mother, blaming the end of her acting career on him when her failure came from herself. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it when you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you squeezed his hand and walked the rest of the way to your house in silence. 

*

A few days later, you were watching a movie in your bed when your phone buzzed with a message from Tate. He hadn’t been able to come over today because Constance had invited her new boyfriend for dinner and wanted everyone to be there. 

From Tate: Can I come over? I’m already outside… 

Pushing your blanket off your body, you paused your movie and went downstairs, opening the door instead of texting him back. 

You found him sitting on your porch with his hands covering his face, looking like he had been there for a few minutes. His eyes were a bit red, matching his sore-bitten lips. It was a stark contrast to the green of his sweater.

‘’I had an argument with my mom and her new toy,’’ Tate explained once he was in the comfort of your bedroom. He rubbed at his face, attempting to erase the traces of his emotions. 

You nodded, sitting on the bed beside him. ‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ 

He shook his head, not wishing to repeat what had been said. ‘’Can you just hold me? Please.’’

Without a word, you opened your arms, and Tate nestled into your embrace, giving him the love and comfort Constance failed to give her son. 

‘’Whatever has been said at that dinner, just know that your mother is wrong,’’ you spoke softly after a moment, your head resting on top of his as he held you tight. ‘’You’re loved and wanted and you didn't ruin her life, okay? Not you or Addie.’’ 

He sniffled and nodded against your chest. ‘’I love you too.’’ 

After a moment, his hold loosened, slowly calming down…and undoubtedly noticing the absence of a bra through your shirt. Lucky boy. You fought a smile, having not considered your attire when you went downstairs to get the door. 

‘’Do you feel comfortable like this?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.

Tate smiled smugly against your shirt, nodding. ‘’Very. They’re so soft and comfortable. I wish I could fall asleep like that at night.’’  

‘’Do you want me to take my shirt off?’’ you whispered, taking him by surprise. 

He nodded again, detaching himself from you so you could take off your shirt and fell back against your pillows in a more comfortable position. 

When you first suggested it, you didn’t think it would take a sexual turn, but Tate’s mouth began kissing at your breasts while his hands were massaging and kneading, fingers digging into soft flesh. God, he loved your tits. 

You would be lying if you said this wasn’t pleasurable. Tate was gentle and loving with his touches and kisses, savoring the moment. Your hand naturally found its way to his hair, running through his blond strands and encouraging him to keep going. 

Then, you began feeling something press against your thigh. 

‘’Not my fault. I can’t control what my dick does.’’

You bit back a laugh. ‘’Do you want me to take care of it?’’ Your hand wandered between your bodies to rub his hardening cock over his pants. 

Tate whimpered and pushed into your touch. ‘’Please.’’ 

He lifted his head from your chest, his eyes still red but no longer teary, and you motioned to take your spot and lay against your pillows.

‘’Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,’’ you promised, leaning down to give him a sweet kiss. ‘’I’m gonna make you feel so good, Tate. So good you’re gonna forget about tonight.’’

That’s exactly what he needed.

With your help, Tate discarded his pants and boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. It must not have felt good straining against his stiff jeans. 

‘’Does that feel good, baby?’’ you asked, slowly running one finger over his sensitive length, teasing him.

He nodded, a shaky breath slipping from his lips. ‘’Y-yes.’’

You did it again, this time ending your stroke by brushing your thumb over the head. 

Tate whimpered, his hips jerking upwards and causing his sweater to ride up his stomach, flashing a trail of light blond hair. You leaned down to kiss it. 

‘’Such a good boy,’’ you praised, continuing to jerk him with your delicate hand. 

You could jerk him off until he spilled, but you decided to have some fun and try something else. Withdrawing your hand, Tate started sitting up. 

‘’Where are you going?’’ he asked, sounding alarmed. 

‘’I’m not going anywhere,’’ you reassured, caressing his thigh. ‘’Don’t worry.’’ 

Nodding, he settled back and watched you move, licking his lips as you removed your pajama bottoms and underwear. His deep brown eyes gave your body a look over, loving everything he was seeing. The natural fall of your breasts and the reddish-mauve mark his mouth left behind, the tiny mole right below your navel that no one but him had noticed, the scar on your calf from when you shaved and accidentally cut yourself. 

‘’You’re so pretty, Mommy. Can I have a kiss?’’ 

It was so nicely asked, you couldn’t deny him. 

You swung a leg over to straddle him, your hands rubbing his hips as his thick cock rested against his stomach, hard and leaking at the tip. The sight almost made the arousal between your legs drip. Your eyes met Tate's as you rose up on your knees, but instead of sinking down on his cock, you lowered yourself on the length and grinded your slick folds along it.

He moaned from the slightest bit of friction, feeling your pussy sliding languidly along his cock.

 A smirk drew across your lips, moving torturously slow. 

Tate whimpered your name, his voice laced with frustration and desire. 

‘’What is it, baby? Is this not what you wanted?’’ you asked coyly, the sound of your arousal mixing with his pre-cum filling the room. 

You saw his eyes dart down to where your genitals were touching, rubbing together. ‘’Mommy, plea-please,’’ he whined, his cock twitching and about to burst. 

You knew what he wanted, but you weren’t going to give it to him — yet. 

‘’Are you close, baby?’’ 

He closed his eyes and gripped the sheets as his stomach spasmed. ‘’I’m gonna cum, I wanna cum.’’ 

‘’Don’t hold back, baby, you can cum.’’

Ropes and ropes of white cum then spilled onto Tate's smooth stomach, his climax hitting, but you didn’t stop like he thought you would. No. You decided to push his limits and tease him until he couldn’t take it, watching his hips lifting off the bed as his orgasm came again and again, ropes of cum shooting out of his cock and adding to the mess. You were surprised he could still cum like that. 

‘’Can't cum anymore. So sensitive,’’ he said with tear-stained cheeks, whimpering through his orgasm and a little after it was done.

‘’You want me to stop?’’

‘’Please.’’ 

You caressed his cheek, wiping some of the tears. ‘’But I haven’t put it in yet...’’

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @Idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt

[sweetbans29]

Feud - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin navigate a long-standing basketball feud (based on THIS, THIS, and THIS request)

Warnings: mentions of injury, slight angst, happy ending

Word Count: 4.4k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I am saying this now, I do not think I will be doing a part 2 for this. Not anywhere in the near future at least.

If someone were to tell you by your senior year of high school you would have a rivalry going on between you and some girl from Iowa, you would call them crazy.

You grew up in Southern California - attending Mater Dei High School and playing ball year-round. You were looked at as one of the most promising college recruits alongside girls like Paige Bueckers and Caitlin Clark. As exciting as it is to be named alongside these girls - it also came with its challenges.

The media caught wind that you were talking to Iowa. Talking initially all about how Iowa was going to be a powerhouse of a team having both you and Caitlin. When you announced that you committed to South Carolina - that is when they immediately pitted the two of you against each other.

It was all funny to you since you had never met the girl. You were encouraged to not look into what the media was saying but there were times that just wasn't possible. You saw how they compared the two of you - never showing the full truth. Even in the facts, they would only take bits and pieces of it and try to show the world how one was better than the other.

When you got to college - it only got worse. You remember your first game against Iowa. It had been all the media could talk about - seeing you go up against Clark for the first time. You saw headlines that went from saying how you didn't want to live in Caitlin's shadow or how you couldn't keep up with Caitlin's growth. Other headlines talked about how she hated you so much that she made you choose a different state to go to school. All of it was a load of bull in your opinion.

At your first game against the Hawkeyes, you were more nervous about all the talk surrounding you and Caitlin than the game itself. You couldn't get the last headline out of your head - 'Caitlin Clark to run circles around SC's freshman'.

"Hey, don't let any of what they are saying get to you," one of your teammates Aliyah says breaking you from the trance you were in.

"Ya, no. I'm good," you say coming back to reality. Aliyah just nods, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

The team goes and plays an incredible game. You were up at the half and were ready to take the second half which is exactly what you did. It was probably your best game yet and you couldn't be more proud.

At the end of the game, someone comes into your locker room and asks you to step outside. You follow before heading to the pressor to find Caitlin standing in an empty hall.

You are surprised and nervous all of a sudden but make your way over to the girl.

"Hi," you say not really sure what to say.

"Hi," she says back. As if just as nervous as you, she awkwardly extends her hand, "I'm Caitlin." You shake her hand and introduce yourself. She continues.

"I wanted to meet you in person in a controlled environment," she says with a little laugh eluding to hiding your first meeting from the media.

"Ya, they have been sort of insane," you say with a laugh of your own. "You had a really solid game today - I can see why so many people love you." You look at the girl standing before you and see her begin to fidget.

"Me?" She says on the verge of shock. " You dominated that court today - I was having a hard time keeping up with you. If anyone had a solid game it was you." She says.

"Well, thank you CC." You say with a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"Of course..." She says.

"I am really glad you came here," you begin. "If I'm honest - the media has been a lot recently and I know you are nothing like they are making you out to be. I don't know how you have felt about it but I truly appreciate this gesture. We don't need to be the best of friends, but we don't need to be strangers."

"I like that, although I will never stop trying to beat you on the floor." She says.

"Oh, I expect nothing less. Now knowing you are a sweetheart, I have no problem keeping up this 'feud' the media is creating - it's what the people want." You say playful giving her a little push.

"Oh that won't be hard considering the second we step onto the court my only goal is to bury you into the ground," Caitlin says with a smile. "I am sure we can keep this up and give them what they want with ease. Just know, it is all love off the court."

The two of you exchanged numbers and went on your way. Over the course of the next few years, both of your paths crossed several times. At games, award events, and random camps. Every time the two of you were in the same building the media would eat it up - always posting photos of the two of you giving each other death stares (which never really happened, they just timed it perfectly to make it seem like that or take snippets completely out of context). Since you first met her, the media hasn't taken such a big toll on you. It also helped that she would text you whenever something overly threatening or mean came out. It had you falling for the girl every time - deciding to push the feelings aside, thinking it was just her being sweet.

It was your junior year when things heated up in the media even more than they had in the past. Going into March Madness, all they could talk about was you against Caitlin so much that it brought back all the drama that started when you were going into college. Through it all Caitlin had reached out and reminded you none of it was real. It was very sweet of her.

Your two teams were facing off in the final four and you could not be more prepared.

The game was a close one the entire time - neither team had more of a 5-point lead at any time. It all came down to the final quarter.

Tied going into it - both teams fought to go to the championship game. Two minutes into the quarter things took a turn for the worst.

You were guarding Caitlin - staying vigilant on defense, ensuring she didn't get a good shot. When she went up on a jumper you hit her arm while trying to block the ball drawing the foul. You cursed at yourself for allowing her to go to the free-point line.

She makes the first one with ease and sets back to the line for a second. Everyone anticipates it going in but the second she releases, you can see how her eyes shift as she begins to make her wait for the ball. You cut in front of her, jumping up going for the rebound as she does the same. You get your hand on the ball trying to hold onto it as you make your way down to the ground.

What you weren't expecting was to be shifted so much that when you came down you landed directly on your knee, causing you to let out a murderous scream. Your hands immediately let go of the ball and make their way to the center of the pain - your knee.

The stadium silences immediately - leaving only your cries as you curl up into a ball.

Caitlin - being the closest one to you is hunched over you with her hands on your shoulder while your teammates run to get medical.

"You're okay, you're okay." She keeps muttering as she really doesn't know what to do to comfort you. She knows she is the one who knocked you off balance in the air but never imagined this to happen.

"They are coming," she says trying to restore hope in you.

The medical team comes up and instantly knows they need to get you out of there immediately. They call for a stretcher which comes within seconds of them asking for it. Your eyes are glued shut as you bite the top of your jersey to avoid letting out any more screams.

The pain has blocked out anything and everything happening around you. You can't even remember how it happened, all you know is the centralized pain.

Caitlin watches as they remove you from the floor. She has never been this distressed when it has come to someone leaving the floor due to injury - not even girls from her own team. Cait makes the mistake of looking up at one of the monitors as they replay what happened and tears begin to form on the brim of her eyes as she clearly sees she is the cause of your injury. The media is going to have a field day with this but even more so - all she could think about was how she could ever begin apologizing to you.

Kate makes her way over to the shaking girl and pulls her into a hug.

"That wasn't your fault," she says in her ear. "Don't carry this."

Kate had been the only person on the team who knew the friendship that had been growing into more than Caitlin knew how to put into words. Kate could also see, Cait was very much at fault for what happened but knows how much Caitlin keeps in her head and shouldn't shoulder this right now.

Once you are taken through the tunnel - everyone does the best they can to regroup from the traumatic scene that had just taken place.

Your team was trying to regroup as they had to make adjustments on the court after losing their star player, also just trying to remain composed after seeing and hearing you go down. Kate was trying to get Caitlin to calm down and get her head back in the game. The crowd at this point remained silent until play resumed.

Your team lost to Iowa by 4 and no one could blame them. It was a hard loss but everyone was more concerned what the outcome of your injury would be over the ending of March Madness.

Once you were taken back, they decided it would be best to take you to the ER to get checked out. Shortly after arriving, they determined it was a transverse patella fracture which meant your patella broke into two and it would require surgery to fix if you ever wanted to play again. It was a no-brainer.

The next few days were a whirlwind for you - they kept you in the hospital as they prepped for the surgery and you started recovery after.

Your team came to visit and took turns rotating so you wouldn't be alone. Your manager thought it would be best to stay off of social media which you didn't argue with one bit. The last thing you needed was someone saying how your career was over. You went so far as to get a secondary phone and phone number just to communicate with the team and your family.

Once you were let go from the hospital to recover at home, you finally got your phone back and it was filled with messages. You scanned through them stopping at the one that caught your attention the most.

Phone in hand, you stared at the dozens of missed calls and messages from Caitlin. You clicked into her messages and began to read about how sorry she was and how she wanted you to let her know when you were home. You fought with yourself to listen to all of the voicemails she had left and settled on listening to the last.

You click on it and bring your phone up to your ear.

"Hi," she sounds completely defeated. "I know I have left you countless voicemails but I just really want to see how you are doing. This was never meant to happen - I...I don't know what was supposed to happen but it was not this." You hear the shakey breath that she takes before continuing. "I don't want to keep bugging you if you don't want to talk to me. If I were you, I wouldn't even be listening to this and would have just deleted it but I know you are better than I am and just pray that this gets to you. That this gets to you before any of the media gets to you or spins the story into something it's not. Not that you owe me anything, but I ask that you don't listen to any of it. Don't do that to yourself because none of it is true. It is all lies that they have spun to their own narrative." She is crying now but does the best she can to cover it up. "This was never supposed to happen, I am so sorry." She struggles out and hangs up.

You imagined the first handful of messages were similar to this one and decided not to listen to them. It wasn't out of anger or resentment but you knew that in order for you to move on you couldn't hang on that moment.

The next few months consisted of recovery. You were determined to come back for your senior year and were going to come back stronger and more prepared than you have ever been. When the season started - you were back to training but weren't jumping back into games until the third week into the season.

Your manager did a really good job of keeping you out of the media - per your request leading up to the season. The first time you were brought back into the light was during your team's first game of the season. You were on the bench - coaching and encouraging your team. It wasn't the first time the media had seen you but the first time they got to talk to you. There were preseason training videos that were released that showed you back in practice but always highlighted other players on your team.

During this first game though, you were going to be mic'd up for a midgame interview.

"We are so excited to have you on the air as your team kicks off the season, can you give us insight on how recovery went for you?"

They were really just jumping in. You let out a little laugh and proceeded to answer the question.

"I am excited to be back - recovery was not easy and challenged me in more ways than I expected it would but I can honestly say it has grown me in more ways than playing would have." You say as your eyes are glued to the game happening in front of you. "That a way Tessa! Get back get back!" You yell to your team.

"We got word that you will be back on the court in a few weeks, are you excited to be playing for your senior year?" Was asked next.

"Of course. I have been itching to get back on the court - YES PAOPAO! AND ONE! - sorry, yes I am ready to get back out there and help my team on the court. We have a single mission and are ready to conquer." You say.

"Does that one mission have anything to do with Caitlin Clark?" One of the anchors asks, curiosity getting the best of them.

You take a second to compose your answer.

"I wish nothing but the best for the girl. She has really elevated the game and visibility of women's sports in general. If our paths cross again, which I can see happening - there are no ill intentions." You say and then give your exit, going back to the game.

Caitlin was watching and couldn't stop replaying the video. You never responded to any of her messages - even the ones that came further along in your recovery. You had cut her off knowing it was what you needed. She couldn't blame you but really wanted to pick up where the two of you left off - during your time of not talking she realized how much she wanted you in her life. You were one of the only people she met with the same mentality as she had and could share in the craziness that the media spat out. You brought out the best in her without even being in the building.

Cait watched you for what felt like the hundredth time and really hoped that your paths would cross this season.

Both of your teams went the whole season without playing the other. This only built the tension for the NCAA tournament. You had jumped seamlessly back in with your team and contributed to their undefeated season. Caitlin and the Hawkeyes fought hard coming back for redemption. As the tournament heightened and both of your teams kept winning - the media kept circulating articles about the faceoff everyone has been waiting a year to see, Caitlin and you on the court again.

Right before the Final Four - videos of your injury circulated again and pitted Caitlin as the villain in this completely made-up narrative. When hearing them - it took everything in you to not reach out to her. Everyone was telling you not to talk to anyone about Caitlin. Your manager also strongly advised you to not make any contact considering everything was under a microscope.

You did really well until you saw that Iowa was playing UConn in the final four. You had been friends with Paige for years now and knew they were ready to take on Iowa but something in your heart was rooting for Caitlin.

The morning of the Iowa v. UConn game you did it. You pulled out your phone and sent a quick message. It was a simple text but carried more weight than just the words present - it was the first contact you had initiated since before your injury.

Caitlin was still in her apartment when she got the message. She was straightening her hair with cameras on her for a documentary coming out on ESPN. She puts her straightener down and picks up her phone, trying not to show the message's effect on her knowing she was being recorded. Looking at the phone for longer than needed her eyes were glued to it.

[Other half: You got this.]

She doesn't know how to respond but she wants to. As she is thinking through how, her phone rings. It's Kate. She answers and quickly makes her way out of her apartment knowing she is picking up Kate before heading to the stadium.

Caitlin didn't mention the text she had gotten - not that she could mention anything with the camera crew still present but her mind was going crazy.

The Hawkeyes went in and took UConn by two points, sending them back to the championship and facing off SC in the championship. The face-off every sports fan has been waiting for.

The celebration was grand but Caitlin's mind kept wandering back to how she was going to respond to you.

When she was finally able to make it back to the locker room, she sat and responded to you.

[CC: Can we meet up after we play?]

Caitlin sent it and sort of regretted asking but she wanted to talk to you face to face. You responded faster than she had expected.

[Other Half: Yes]

The championship game comes faster than everyone anticipated. Both teams preparing for one final game. Up to this point - you alongside a Kamilla had committed to the draft. From Iowa - Caitlin had made her statement saying she was going to the draft. Both of you know this last game is a significant one. It would be the last of your college career.

The game is a crazy one - buckets exchanged with the leads fluctuating between your team and hers. At final buzzard it was your team that came out on top.

The celebration was epic as you saw Caitlin and her team make their way to their locker. Pictures were taken and confetti was thrown. When things begin to die down you see Caitlin emerge from the tunnel looking for something. You have an idea that she is looking for you and are proven right when she spots you, nervously making your way to you.

When she approaches you - the two of you nod to one another saying little good jobs. The amount of cameras surrounding you is insane as they get the content of you two together.

You want to put this college feud behind you as you both head into the W so in one swift movement, you remove your jersey. Caitlin takes the hint and does the same leaving you both in your undershirts.

You pass your jersey to her and she does the same with you. You both hold them up and let the media get all the photos they want of the two of you. Once you are done, you pull her in for a hug.

"Meet me in the coach's room," you whisper in her ear. She nods and the two of you part.

You finish the celebration and interviews and head back to grab your stuff. Before heading out, you make your way to meet Caitlin.

When you get there you see a girl sitting in a chair, looking down at her hands as she picks at her nails. She doesn't hear you enter but looks up when you close the door. She immediately stands and makes her way to you not really knowing what to say.

You look at her and pull her into a hug. You never said it but you missed her more than anything.

"I am so sorry," she says, her words muffled as they are spoken into your neck.

"Stop apologizing." You tell the girl in your arms.

"It was all my fault - I was mad and didn't realize my strength when I went up. You were out because of me and I will never forgive myself for that," she says not wanting to let you go.

"Caitlin lighted up on yourself." You say and pull away to look her in the eyes. "If I am honest, I blamed you at first. I was upset and frustrated and blamed you. But as time went on, I realized I only had myself to blame. You were playing the game - I would have done the same exact thing. As I was recovering - I started to be thankful for what had happened because it forced me to grow up. No one likes to be injured but I wouldn't be who I am today if I didn't have that time."

Caitlin nods along to everything you say. You bring your fingers to wipe away the tears that fall.

"If anything I should be the one apologizing," you say and Caitlin shakes her head from side to side.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I do, I cut you out and I shouldn't have. I am sorry." You say. "Friends?" You ask sticking your hand out in a joking manner.

She takes your hand and shakes it. "Friends." She confirms.

The next week is a whirlwind as the two of you part ways to get ready for the draft. You two talk at least once a day trying to figure out what the next chapter of your lives could possibly look like.

When the night finally comes, it is more than you can imagine. Seeing so many congregate to highlight the sport and get ready for another great season while welcoming the new rookies is something you will never forget.

Caitlin is picked first - heading to the Indiana Fever. You could not be more excited for her. You were mentally prepared to head to the Phoenix Mercury or the New York Liberty.

It comes as a complete shock when you are picked by the Indiana Fever as well. You head up to the stage and go through your initial interview.

As you make your way back - you barely get to the hall before you see someone running up to you. Before you know it, Caitlin is in your arms. Her body is flush against yours as her arms wrap around you, squeezing you with everything she has. You lift her off the ground and squeeze her right back.

You could care less about who is watching - the only thing running through your mind is that you are about to spend the next four years with the girl in your arms.

When you place her on the ground she doesn't let you go but rather buries her face into your neck. You smile and let her hug you for as long as she wants.

It's in this moment that things begin to stir inside you. Your heart swells and you feel whole. Your hand comes up to hold the girl's head. There is no way the two of you are just friends and this moment solidifies that for you.

Weeks pass after the draft and you are getting situated in Indiana. You and Caitlin decided to find an apartment together.

The night of the draft the two of you found your way back to each other after going your separate ways to celebrate. That is when Caitlin admitted to having feelings for you dating back to your sophomore year of college. You sat there in complete awe of the girl and admitted that you had just recently realized your feelings for her but could probably date it to your recovery. From then on the two of you decided to take it slow - knowing how the media has been towards the two of you up to this point.

That sort of flew out the window when she asked you to find an apartment together when you both moved to Indy. And you were sure as hell glad she did.

After four years of the media pitting the two of you against each other, you were finally able to change the narrative. You were no longer rivals but now the new power team ready to take on the W.

AN: Tried to get a little of everything in here, I hope you enjoyed it! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[hazbinwhoree]

Come Inside

Part 2/2

A/N: The heavily requested part two.

“Well you fucking did it,” (Name) announced, storming into the living room where Adam was watching TV. “Did what,” he asked, mouth full of the ribs he was eating. (Name) threw something at him.

“Hey!” he yelped, the small object bouncing off his shoulder. He picked it up and the world stopped for a moment. It was a pregnancy test. And it was positive.

“Are you fucking with me?” Adam asked after a moment. “Does that look like I am fucking with you?” She had a point. (Name) was watching him anxiously. Adam looked back at her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know. How do you feel?” “Like I made good on a promise,” Adam smirked. (Name) threw a pillow at his head. “This is serious!” “I am serious!” Adam protested. “I said I’d put a baby in you and I did. You had no fuckin’ objections when we were doing it.”

(Name) groaned, flopping onto the couch next to him. “You’re telling me that you are ready to be a dad?” Adam placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You say that like it’s an insane notion. I knew the risks, I knew this was a possibility. I wouldn’t have taken the chance if I wasn’t ready for it.”

(Name) teared up.

“Oh, shit, do you not want this?”

(Name) shook her head. “No, it’s just the hormones and the fact you actually want to have a baby with me.”

Adam laughed, pulling her into his lap. “Of course I want to have a baby with you. I wouldn’t have a baby with anyone else. Well, Eve, but I never raised Cain and Abel. In fact I was a completely absent dad–” “Babe.” Adam laughed, thinking about it. “I don’t know if that’s funny,” (Name) said.

Adam cleared his throat. “Point is, you make me want to be a father so long as you’re the mother.”

“You’re not gonna leave me and the baby like you left Cain and Abel?”

“Babe, Eve had Cain and Abel like right before she cheated on me. I wasn’t fuckin’ sticking around. Those kids are a mess too–” he laughed. “One killed the other!”

(Name) rolled her eyes, punching his shoulder. “The things you find funny are so fucked.” “Yeah but you love me,” Adam cooed, licking her cheek. (Name) squealed. “I hate when you do that! Just kiss me like a normal person, asshole!” Adam cackled.

The first trimester, it still hadn’t become a permanent thought in Adam’s head that he was going to be a father.

The second trimester, it became much more real and they started considering baby names and preparing a nursery.

The third trimster, was really bad for (Name). She was constantly exhausted, sore, hungry but sick to her stomach. The baby really did a number on her. By the time nine months rolls around, (Name) is more than ready to get this child out of her.

“GET IT OUT OF ME!” She screamed after pushing once. “Push again!” the midwife encouraged. (Name) screamed as she did.

Adam watched on in horror. He wasn’t there to witness Cain and Abel’s births, so he had no idea how brutal and scary childbirth was. He stroked back hair off her sweaty forehead, letting her squeeze the life out of his other hand.

Every time she screamed, Adam lost his shit a little bit.

“And push!” With one final push and a pained yell, (Name) delivered their baby.

It was a baby girl.

Adam had been reconsidering his eligibility for fatherhood. But when the nurse cleaned their baby off and placed her on (Name)’s chest, Adam was determined not to ruin a good thing. He may not be looking forward to the responsibilities of a father, but he would take them on for her sake.

In the following weeks, he really tries to help with the baby equally, but he’s pretty bad at it. He’d offered to take a few night shifts but would sleep straight through the baby’s crying, leaving (Name) to go soothe her. But he learned how to prepare a bottle of milk, and he learned how to change dirty diapers.

To his surprise, he actually didn’t find it all that difficult to bond with his child. (Name) even caught him baby talking once, which he fervently denies.

Months go by, and their daughter surprises them with her very first word… “Fuck!”

(Name) is appalled, Adam thinks it’s hilarious. She berates Adam for setting a bad example for the baby, when she shocks them with her second word. “Bitch.” Clear as day. Adam picks their daughter up and praises her. (Name) hits Adam’s arm.

Adam does his best to be a good husband and father, and while he’s not great at it, he is a present father and a loving husband.

[weird-is-life]

Hiiii, I saw your post that you reopen your request. Can I please request Aaron Hotchner x reader where he found out that your seeing a guy in another department after he rejected you. It depends on you if you want a happy ending or not. Thank you so much, I hope you'll see this.

Ty for the request🥰! I changed it up a little to a accidental rejection🤭hope that's okay. Warnings: use of y/n, accidental rejection, swear words, jealous Aaron, happy ending(1.2k)

Aaron just randomly passes your office and notices you're not alone. There's a man leaning over your table, blatantly flirting with you, it's so obvious, that Aaron doesn't even need to hear it to know it's flirting. And seeing your shy smile at that makes it even worse.

He overhears a word 'date' and Aaron's face goes white. Some weird feeling raises in his chest, one, that he hasn't felt in a long, long time.

He can't look at it any longer, so he spins around on his heels and storms into his office. His usual frown deepened like 10 times.

Aaron is aggressively writing reports, slapping papers down onto the table and swearing at the 'stupid pens', that keep spilling under the pressure of his intense writing, the whole afternoon.

The team, of course, notices his sour mood, but they choose to simply let Aaron cool down, not wanting to be the ones under his deadly gaze.

It's almost evening, most of the people already left home, that somebody comes to check up on him. It's Penelope.

She nervously knocks on his door, " you can come in, Garcia." Aaron murmurs, not even looking up, from his paperwork.

"Thank you, sir," she steps awkwardly inside and stays quiet, trying to come up with the right words.

Aaron sighs and looks up at her, when he realises, she won't say anything if he doesn't encourage her, "what do you need, Penelope?"

She smiles at him sheepishly," sir, I just wanted to ask if-if you're okay?"

Aaron should have known, that that's why she's there.

But to answer her question? No, he doesn't really feel okay.  There's jealousy boiling in his chest. He likes you, like a lot and-and he'd thought, that the feelings were mutual. That you liked him too and if he'd asked you on a date, you'd say yes.

Aaron's been trying to gather the courage to ask you out for weeks now. And seeing you with another guy just makes him wanna either punch something or dissappear somewhere for a long, long time.

Maybe he should have seen it coming, you've avoided him this whole week and Aaron didn't want to press you for an answer why. So maybe the guy is the why.

Aaron sighs for a second time and mutters," I'm fine."

Penelope raises her eyebrows, she obviously doesn't believe him," are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You should head home, it's late," Aaron says and dives back into the paperwork, even if his mind is still on you. It has been the whole day.

"I will, sir, but you should go home soon, too," then she adds softly," and even if you are really fine....-I just want you to know, I'm here, always."

Aaron doesn't say anything in response, so Penelope wishes him a goodnight and turns to leave.

Something suddenly comes over Aaron and he stops Penelope as she nears the doorway," Penelope?"

"Yes, sir?"

Aaron hesitates, overthinking it," you're friends with y/n, right?"

Penelope's smile grows into a cheeky one, "best of friends, she's the best. I love her, why do you ask?"

Aaron runs his hand across his face," I just happened to pass by her office earlier and saw a guy there," Aaron hopes he won't regret asking her this in the future, " is-is she seeing him?"

Penelope, weirdly, glares at him, " and what if she is? Why do you care? You rejected her, sir, she's free to date anyone she wants to."

Aaron frowns so hard from the confusion, that his face might permanently get stuck that way from now on. What the hell is Penelope talking about? When did he reject you? Why would he even do that? That's impossible. He rakes his mind for an answer.

"What? Penelope, I didn't-" Aaron suddenly stops himself, remembering what she's talking about. He did it.

He did reject you. He's such a fucking idiot, he can't believe it. Last week, you and Aaron were just talking in the Bau's cafeteria. And out of nowhere, you asked him, all shy and nervous, if he wanted to grab lunch together. To Aaron's horror, he replied 'I don't have lunches, I don't have time for them' and he can remember your little, sad 'okay', and how you just quickly excused yourself and left.

He didn't fucking realise, you were asking him out. He was too distracted by your shy, pretty smile and also the current case they were working on, that he didn't catch on.

"Shit," Aaron curses, " I messed up, I gotta go." Aaron basically runs out of his office towards your, hoping you're still there. Penelope, on the other hand, stands there, smiling happily to herself.

To Aaron's luck, you are still there, packing your bag. Aaron knocks on your door to let you know he's there and let's himself in.

"Hi...-," you turn around with a smile, but it drops immediately after you see Aaron," Oh, h-hello, sir."

Aaron is a little hurt, that you are back to calling him 'sir' and not Aaron," hi, c-could we talk? Do you have a minute?"

You look uncertainly at him, but seeing him so desperate to talk, you nod a yes.

"Thank you," he says out of breath," first of all, I just want to say that I'm the biggest fucking idiot there is. I completely didn't realise that you were asking me out on a lunch, like a date. I was too distracted, but I'm not making excuses. I fucked up and I know that."

Aaron takes a big breath before he continues," I've been meaning to ask you out on a date myself for weeks now. And you did it before me and I completely missed it. I'm really sorry, y/n. I'm such an idiot. I wish I could go back in time and slap myself for it. Because I like you y/n, like a lot," Aaron confesses," but I know, I'm too late and that you're already seeing somebody else. I just....I just wanted you to know, how I feel."

You stand there with your eyes wide and your mouth a tiny bit open in shock. You thought, you were just imagining Aaron's feeling after he rejected you, but turns out you weren't. They are just as real as yours are.

You break a small smile," ask me."

Aaron looks baffled at you, "w-what?"

"You said, you've been meaning to ask me on a date. So....ask me."

"What? But what about the guy?"

"There's no guy, if you mean the guy from earlier, I rejected his invitation to a date. I'm not interested in him," the only guy you're interested in is Aaron," ask me?"

Aaron, finally, feels like he can breath normally after hearing your words and he even smiles at you, " y/n, would you like to go on a date with me? Only if you want to of course."

You bashfully look at him," I'd love to Aaron, but only if you make some time to have lunch with me."

Your cheeky smile is everything Aaron needs to know, that he's forgiven.

"I'll always make time for you, " Aaron reassures you, even if you both know that with the work he has, he can't promise that, but he does it anyway.

"Then it's settled," you smile at him happily and stand on your tiptoes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Call me later, yes?" and with that you're gone, before Aaron even has the time to recover from your soft lips on his cheek.