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#but then they asked if I knew about our mother God????
garciaasfluffypen · 3 days
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the suit stays on (we're feral for you)
pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.5k warnings: SEXUAL CONTENT. MINORS DNI. (we’re operating under the assumption that y’all have fucked or at least seen each other in various states of undress prior to being in an established polycule), toy usage, fingering (reader recieving), female terms of endearment -- "our girl", mentions of mental abuse/belittling in previous relationships request from this ask a/n: i have no clue if this stayed on prompt or not but its here and its all i could think about while i was at work today
gods, you looked good in a suit. 
you adjusted the jacket that tara had helped you pick out for the upteenth time, smoothing invisible wrinkles off the dark maroon fabric as you made your way to the door of the bedroom. well, technically it had become your shared office, but you knew your favorite women barely looked into the closet in this room unless there was a gala they had to go to. it was the perfect hiding spot. you ran into their bedroom real fast, hearing emily humming to herself in the bathroom as you went over to the bag you had brought over to grab your black pumps. you rarely wore them, but you figured since rossi was paying for emily to treat you and jj to an anniversary celebration it was only fair that you pulled them out. 
while it wasn’t jj and emily’s anniversary (considering they had been together for years and married before you came along) it had been five months to the day that they had asked you to officially join them, to be more than just a friend and a confidant. to be their girlfriend. sure, it had scared you, but now it was second nature. you had fit into their relationship like a hand sliding into a glove. it was so easy for you to find your place with them. they made sure you felt comfortable from the beginning- separating work from pleasure, each taking you out on separate date nights at least once every other week and a trio date twice a week. making sure to remind you every day that you were loved and appreciated. to let you know it was okay to not mask your stims or feelings- they were always making sure you felt safe. none of your previous exes did that, always belittling you when you would stim in public or forget to take your medication. but with emily and jj? it was easy. 
loving them was easy.
your feet slid into the pumps with ease, welcoming the extra few inches they added to your height. with a smile, you went over to the front door to scan the checklist jj had put up for you, reading it over. keys, check. wallet, check. badge, not necessarily needed but you had it in your wallet just in case. meds, which were only a morning thing, not including your magnesium that you took at six pm each day. you didn’t need to take them unless you forgot them, but jj and emily had been good at making sure you had taken them whenever you were over. the adhd brain fog you got when you don’t take your meds was rough, you’d hate for it to show up in front of them. 
“baby are you--” jj stopped in her tracks as she looked you up and down, her jaw dropping slightly. 
“do i look okay? i don’t, i knew the suit was a bad idea, i’ll go--”
jj grabbed your hand, turning you to face her. “absolutely not. you look….” 
“beautiful.” emily joined you two by the front door, slipping an arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “the word she’s looking for is beautiful.” 
emily had put on a pair of slacks and a fancy blouse, one that she had most likely gotten from her mother at some point. you didn’t know much about ambassador prentiss, but you knew she almost always sent emily stuff that she barely wore. most of those clothing items hung in the guest room closet. jj wore a baby blue sleeveless top with black jeans, her hair falling down behind her in those beach waves that you loved and adored. you had no idea what they had planned for tonight, but all you knew was that they looked hot and you were in fact, very in love with your girlfriends. even if you couldn’t find the words to say it to them yet. 
“where’d you get the suit?” 
“uh, tara took me shopping the other day. when she heard about the date.” you swallowed nervously. “i hope thats okay.” 
jj stepped closer. “you should buy more suits. i can’t even put into words how hot you look right now.” 
you blushed. “are you sure i’m not overdressed?” you moved to take the jacket off. 
“absolutely not.” emily gave you a stern look. “the suit stays on.” 
“you’re not overdressed at all, lovey.” jj squeezed your hand. “you look amazing.”
“are you sure?”
“i promise.” she tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “we got reservations at fiola, that italian place you wanted to try. you’re perfectly dressed.” 
the glint in emily’s eyes pointed to other undertones, but you kept your mouth shut. better to not start anything in case you were reading the situation wrong. you let them lead you to the car, making sure you were buckled in before heading out. jj leaned forward to rest her hand at the crook of your elbow, keeping light conversation with you so you didn’t get lost in your thoughts. the two women knew that you didn’t do the best with plans you didn’t know everything about, so they made sure to keep you in the loop as much as they could. granted, they didn’t even know the restaurant they were going to until this morning, but they told you what they were doing as they were doing it. it was a nice change, especially since in the past you would have to deal with your exes just scooping you up and taking you places without asking for your input. 
you enjoyed the meal, despite feeling out of place. rossi had made sure to get you a secluded corner booth, far away from everyone so you could make the most of your night together. after dinner, emily and jj took you for a walk through the georgetown waterfront park while you awed at the sights. they knew you would love it, since you always found beauty in small things like this. it was rare that you let your guard down like this, but they knew you trusted them enough to do so. even if these nights were far and few between, seeing you be your true self was something they adored deeply. to end the night, the three of you got ice cream at a little local shop before heading back to the apartment. 
minutes within getting inside, you kicked your heels off and went to take your jacket off, only to be stopped by a set of hands. emily walked in front of you, silently telling you to let her take care of it. jj had momentarily disappeared, and you searched for her as emily took your jacket off with care. it was folded neatly on the back of the couch before she ran her hands lightly over your arms again, stopping to hold your hands. you searched her eyes, attempting to figure out what your women had planned for you.
“how are you feeling, y/n?” her voice was low and husky. “are you up for more? if you’re not, you can tell us.”
“can we do whatever it is with jj?” 
“of course, lovey. she should be in the bedroom, do you care to join us?”  
you silently nodded, letting emily guide you to the bedroom. as she opened the door, you saw your favorite candles lit on either side table, with jj leaning up against the wall as she waited. her eyes practically lit up as she saw you and emily walk in, stepping over to you. 
“if you’d rather just curl up in bed, say the word and we can do that, okay?” jj gave you a smile. 
“okay. but what are we…”
your voice trailed off as you started to notice that jj had changed into a satin robe, one that she only took out for special occasions. you remembered buying it with her years ago, when penelope had invited you to girls night as a way to introduce you to emily before she had gotten with jj. before you had been asked to join the BAU, even. your hand ghosted over the satin fabric, subconsciously finding the string and fidgeting with it. your head fell to jj’s shoulder, slowly shuffling closer to her. 
“we couldn’t help but wish we could have you all night,” jj started. “you’re just so hot and all we could think about was you. we're feral for you." jj paused, looking at you. "is this okay?”
you nod. “more than okay.” 
“you’re in control, tonight is about you. you want us to stop, you tell us.” 
a noise fell from your lips. “mm”
“i need words, y/n.” 
“yes.” 
within seconds, jj’s hands started exploring your body, waiting for you to initiate a kiss. you leaned in, your hands wrapping around jj’s midsection and pulling her close to you as possible. emily came up behind you, her hands moving around your waist and starting to kiss your neck. your head fell back, giving both women full access to you. slowly but surely you feel yourself being taken to the bed, emily sitting down behind you and letting you lean against her knees. jj slowly started to undress you, taking her time and practically worshiping your body. emily placed kisses down your back, her hands exploring your upper body. they were taking care of you, taking their time and letting you know how much you truly meant to them. your hands found their way to the tie on jj’s robe again, un-tying it and pushing the fabric off her shoulders. with a swift movement, jj moved you so you were on the bed, emily shuffling to give jj room to adjust everything before continuing. you grabbed at emily, pulling her close and giving her a kiss while starting to unbutton her blouse, being sure to be careful. even if she didn’t care about it, it felt expensive and not worth ruining. 
emily helped you push her blouse off her shoulders before laying down next to you, the red of her victoria’s secret bra a stark contrast from her porcelain skin. you found your way to her breasts, kneading one with one hand while you pestered kisses all over the other one. emily’s hand made it's way into your hair, the other gripping the side of your arm lightly. moans fell from emily as you switched breasts, repeating the same process. as you did so, your free hand went down to your center, which was hot with need as your girlfriends took care of you. she slowly pushed you back onto the bed, pushing the hair out of your face and trailing her hand down to your jaw, turning your face to look at her. emily shifted so she could turn your head and envelop you in a kiss. as you kissed, her hand went to replace the one hovering over your center, easily slipping two fingers in with a smirk on your face as you moaned out. your head fell into the crook of emily’s neck, biting and nipping at the skin in an attempt to leave a semblance of a mark. 
���emmy… emmy please.” 
emily’s free hand grabbed your hip, holding you in place as you tried to move your hips. she was teasing the hell out of you, knowing you all too well. you mewed out as emily’s fingers slowed, the high you were chasing fading away. a pout flew over your features as you clawed at emily’s shoulders, silently pleading with her to continue. you finally regained movement of your hips as emily’s hand loosened, letting you find that high again at your own pace. noises fell from your lips as fireworks exploded all around you, the skin of emily’s shoulder becoming victim to yet another set of bite marks as you worked through your high. 
a blush crept up on your cheeks as you remembered jj had been there the whole time, now noticing the baby blue strap now situated over her hips. jj placed a hand on emily’s back and stood next to her, looking over to you to ensure you wanted to continue. you nodded, pulling jj closer so you could grab the strap. jj lightly moved your head to the strap, holding her hand at the back of your head while emily positioned herself behind you, her hands going to knead your breasts as you sucked jj off. 
“do you need more, y/n?” you nodded. “words.”
“yes. more.” 
 “so beautiful,” she placed a kiss on your cheek, then your neck. “our girl.” 
“what does our girl need?” emily looked at you.
“more, please.” 
you clawed at jj who pushed you down on the bed, hovering over your entrance as you nodded again as a signal for her to continue. slowly she pushed the strap into you, her hands going to hold you in place as she bottomed out. a moan of pleasure left your lips as she sat there for a second, waiting for you to adjust before she started pumping in and out. your hand reached for emily and went straight to her center, finding her clit and starting to rub. 
“look at you, taking me so well. laying there and taking me like a good girl should.” jj pressed into your hips. “getting emmy off while i fuck you so good, huh?” 
your free hand gripped at the sheets. “oh, oh fu--”
“yeah? jayje is so good to you, huh?” you nodded. “tell me, use your words.”
“so good, jay, so-- fuck-!” 
emily came to a climax first, with you following closely behind. jj smirked as the two of you rode your climaxes out together, both of you moaning out in tandem. as your high faded away, leaving you breathless on the bed, jj’s hips starting to stutter as her own climax hit her. emily slowly pushed your hand away from her and watched you through hooded eyes as you whined at the sudden emptiness you felt below. jj fell on the bed next to you, pulling you as close to you as she could before emily joined the two of you. 
“was that okay, y/n?” 
you covered your eyes and let out a breathy laugh. “how are you so good at that?” 
“at what?” jj smirked. 
“oh shut up,” you playfully nudged her shoulder. “you know what i’m talking about.” 
“what can i say, the best of me comes out when i’m with you. the both of you.” 
you couldn’t help but blush. “really?”
“really. we wouldn’t have asked you to be ours if we didn’t both adore the hell out of you.” 
emily wrapped her arm around your midsection. “you mean the world to us, y/n. truly. we’d do anything for you.” 
it felt as if your heart grew three sizes in that moment. you snuggled further into emily and pulled jj close, inhaling the subtle scent of sea salt from her shampoo. you closed your eyes and let the two women draw patterns over your skin, relishing in the moment before ultimately one of them got up to get a washcloth. your eyes started to slowly shut, the warmth of your girlfriends bodies engulfing you in a hug. 
you could get used to this. 
and maybe… maybe you were almost ready to say those three words.  almost.
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bimbo-baggins17 · 1 day
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KINKTOBER REQUEST!
hear me out:
incest, boot worship, and rape (I forget the numbers oops) with Kurt Matheson.
the idea in my head was that you're his sister or daughter. because of his untreated issues and very sensitive mental state, you visit him often to check on him. you end up staying over one night, nd during that night, it became unsafe to go outside, so you're stuck with him until further notice.
he confides in you about how long it's been since he's had a woman around him, and you get weirded out and ask him to stop, which bums him out.
in the middle of the night, he comes onto you, babbling about how desperate he is and how pretty you are and how much he needs you. ofc, he's a vet and works out, so he's much stronger and can easily overpower you. you wake up out of your sleep screaming and crying, and he ends up raping you.
finally feeling some sort of control, he tells you to worship him - his body, his voice, his very being - and he starts with shoving you down onto your hands and knees, one booted foot heavy on your spine while you're forced to lick at his other boot, cleaning away the dirt and grime.
I KNOW I JUST WROTE THE WHOLE DAMN THING OUT, BUT IF ANYONE CAN WRITE THIS, IT'S YOU!
I’M POSTING THIS ONE EARLY BECAUSE I CANT KEEP IT TO MYSELF ANYMORE
I know I already told you in our messages how much I loved this but OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. YOUR BRAIN IS BEAUTIFUL BNUUY. Hands down my favorite request like EVER. I went with it being his daughter. Definitely more of a fic than a drabble. Oopsies.
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TW: DDDNE!!! Rape and incest!!! Don’t like, don’t read.
One of the only times Kurt would make an exception to answering the door is when he knew you were expected. Every other week, like clockwork, you’d come with some groceries and necessities for your mentally unstable father.
“Hurry. Come in, come in.” His voice is gruff as he quickly ushers you in out of the storm before locking the door once you’re barely past the threshold.
You take a moment to look around his dimly lit space, discarded food cans litter the floor. You sigh as you set the bags of groceries down before stooping to try tidy clean some of it up. Kurt turns to come over to you, his eyes drifting to your ass as you do.
“You know, if you kept your space clean, it would probably help you a bit mentally.” You say with your back still to him. Honestly it probably wouldn’t do much to his fragile mental state but you still tried.
“You worry too much.” He says dismissively coming up beside you.
With a sigh, you straighten up and look at him, “Maybe you don’t worry enough.”
He huffs out a laugh, “You sound just like your mother. Trust me. I worry plenty.”
You shake your head but drop it instead, not wanting to argue. It was draining with him and you were always walking on egg shells. You opt for putting away the items you brought. “I’ll get these put away and then I’ll head out. I can’t stay long this time, sorry dad.”
He exhales and rubs a hand over his stubble. “Can’t give your old man a couple more minutes?”
“Sorry, not tonight. But I’ll be back next week with your med refills.”
He waves a hand at that, “Don’t. Theyre useless anyways.”
You stop and look up at him. “Are you implying you aren’t taking them anymore?”
Kurt looks away, shaking his head. “They don’t work anyways.”
“They can’t work if you don’t take them consistently. We’ve been over this.”
“Yeah you really sound like your mother now.”
You give him a look, unamused by him. “I only say that because I care.”
The lights flicker and both of you look over to the window seeing the storm has gotten significantly worse in the short amount time you’ve been here.
Your dad looks back to you again, “I don’t think I’m comfortable with you out in the weather like this.”
And that’s how you get roped into staying the night at your dad’s. You knew he worried. God he worried about everything. What led to your parents’ divorce was that exact reason. His PTSD got worse and worse until he was unable to leave the house for fear of the end of the world.
Both of you sit on the floor with a lantern between the two of you, barely giving off enough light. The sound of the storm outside drowns out the scraping of utensils in the cans you were eating from.
“How’s school been? I feel so out of the loop anymore.” Kurt speaks up, trying to make conversation.
You shrug lazily, “Alright I guess. You’d be in the loop more if you had a cellphone like a normal person.”
He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll ignore that comment,” He mumbles. His eyes move slowly over you again. He’d be lying if he didn’t think you were beautiful, the way your curves filled out more over time, the way your breasts seemed to nearly double in size over the last year. His chewing halts for a second as he feels a familiar twitch in his pants, one he hadn’t felt in so long. “You got a boyfriend?” He questions after a moment.
You stop and look up at him, shaking your head, “No.”
Slowly he nods his head. “You should. You’re beautiful.”
You shift a little where you sit, uncomfortable with the compliment. Sure it was normal for a dad to compliment his daughter but not your dad. “Um. Thanks.”
“I mean it. You’re looking more and more like your mom did in her prime.”
You look up at him again, “Uh..yeah I guess so.”
“Filling out like her too. Getting her curves.” He continues on. He probably should stop but it’s been so long and yeah it’s probably wrong but he’s so starved for pussy, he’ll take whatever he can. It’d be a waste of a perfect opportunity if he didn’t try.
“Dad?” You question with your eyebrows furrow together tightly.
He sighs and hangs his head. “Sorry. It’s just,” Kurt sighs once more and shifts a little closer to you placing a calloused hand on your leg. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman and I-“
“Oh my god, dad. Gross! Stop it!” You shove his hand off of you and quickly put some distance back between you too.
Kurt’s hand clenches into a fist as he brings it back to his lap. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He tries to suppress the disappointment in his voice.
“I’m going to bed, I just..ugh.” You were unnerved to say the least. You get up off the floor, leaving the half eaten can of food on the ground.
“You-uh..you can take my cot.” He calls after you before he’s mentally beating himself up again. This was going to be a long night.
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Kurt tosses and turns for what feels like hours on the floor, his cock so painfully hard. He sits up a little to look at you on his cot. You looked so peaceful while sleeping, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with each breath. It was pure torture to have a woman so close but not being able to do anything about it. Any rational part of his brain was gone years ago so his conscience wasn’t telling him to stop as he got up off the floor, slowly making his way over to your sleeping form.
He reaches down and brushes some hair off your face, “So beautiful,” He murmurs, letting his hand move off your face, slowly tracing down your neck over the pulse point, then your collarbone before he’s allowing himself to squeeze your supple breast. He bites down on his lip to keep from making any noise noticing you weren’t wearing a bra to sleep. His cock throbs.
Kurt palms himself to try and cause any kind of relief this way as he continues to knead your breast, feeling the pebbled nipple poking his palm. He lets out a shuddered exhale. His eyes trail down further seeing the hem of your shirt bunched up a little. A peek wouldn’t hurt right? Not like you’d know. Slowly he inches the shirt up until he’s able to see at least one of your breasts. Leaning down slowly, he presses an open mouthed kiss to it.
You stir a little in your sleep but don’t wake up. He freezes for a second to make sure you stay asleep before he envelopes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.
“Fuck,” He murmurs, releasing it. Making a bolder choice, he lets his hand continue its decent to the waistband of your pants before he’s slipping it in, finding your cunt with his fingers. He draws in a shaky breath feeling how you were wet. “What’re you dreaming about babygirl?” He whispers into the dark.
Against anyone else’s better judgment, he eases your pants and panties down, revealing your core to him. He hesitates for a second looking at it, imagining how tight it would feel wrapped around his shaft.
“I’m so sorry baby. Just been so long..and..and it hurts. You know I love you. You’re my beautiful little girl. I know you’d forgive your dear old dad for this.” He rambles quietly before he’s easing onto the bed between your legs as he bends them. Quickly he fishes his leaking cock out, running it through your folds.
Time isn’t a luxury he has right now. As much as he’d love to savor this, he can’t so he pushes into you, keeping his eyes on your face to make sure you aren’t waking up. Slowly he starts to rock into you, biting back moans that threaten to spill out.
“Oh sweet girl..so good to me.” He pants out, rocking his hips into you faster as he chases his much needed release. The caution he had at first is quickly abandoned as his thrusts grow harsher.
You’re stirred from your slumber feeling something that you most definitely shouldn’t be. Hazily you try to make sense of what’s going on as you come to your senses. Quickly you put together that your father is on top of you fucking into you. “Wha-? S-stop! Stop!”
Kurt’s eyes fly open and land on your face seeing you’re now awake. “Shh..it’s okay baby. I know. I know. Just couldn’t help myself-“
You claw at him to try and get him off, shoving at him but he doesn’t budge. “Dad! Please stop!!” You cry.
“No. No. Just-..nghh..be good for your dad.” He grits out.
You continue to squirm and try to fight which only serves to irritate him. He can’t have that. The years of working out and military training served well and he’s able to easily over power you, pinning you down tightly against the cot. “I said, be good.” He continue to pound into your poor pussy, taking what he wants and not caring about your protests.
“Stop! Please!” You keep repeating the words through far tears that roll down your cheeks.
“Don’t cry baby. You’re helping out your dad.” It’s his attempt to console you. As if reminding you it was your father who was fucking you would somehow make it better.
Your protests soon die off, continuing to cry and sniffle under him.
“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He coos before he’s cumming into you. He leans down to press a wet kiss to your chest. “Now tell daddy thank you.”
Quickly you shake your head. The worst was over, so you assumed. You’d leave after he got off of you. “What? No. You’re sick. Sicker than I thought.” You sniffle.
Kurt leans back, a scowl on his face. “Ungrateful brat.” He spits the words out.
Your eyes widen. You’d upset him, that much was clear. You shake your head again, taking back what you said for the sake of not having him rape you again. “No. No wait. I’m sorry..I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”
“Oh yeah? You’re sorry, hm?”
You nod your head. “Yeah. Yes, yes I’m sorry dad.” It made you sick to call him that now.
“Show me then. Worship me.”
You look up at him with wide eyes. “W-what?”
“I said, worship me. Make your dad happy.”
You don’t even know where to begin, how to lie that well. Kurt is unhappy with how long you take. Slipping out of you, he quickly yanks you up and shoves you onto your stomach on the floor before you can process what’s happening, his one booted foot shoved directly into the center of your back while the other one rested by your head on the floor.
“Lick it.” He instructs.
“What? Lick what?”
He huffs in frustration, “My boot. Lick it. Show your dad how much you love him.”
You start to protest despite your compromised position, but Kurt presses his boot more firmly into your back. “Lick. It.”
You shakily raise your head and stick your tongue out, giving a little kitten lick to the toe of it.
“More.” He encourages, adding more pressure. “Clean it with your damn tongue.”
You sniffle but oblige him, knowing you weren’t getting out of this without doing so. You run your tongue along the toe of his boot, moving to the front of it, dipping down to the sole of it.
“There we go. Much better.” He praises, “Now tell me you love me.”
You suck in a shaky breath, “I-love you dad.”
He hums happily, “Good. Now my voice.”
“I..love your voice.” You sniffle.
He releases a little of the pressure on your back, “My body.”
You fight the urge to recoil at the words he wants you to speak, “I-…I love your body.” You want to puke.
“Mm. There we go. You made your dad so happy, little girl.” He praises softly, “That wasn’t so bad, yeah?”
You shake your head for the sake of appeasing him, “N-no..it wasn’t.”
“Good,” He takes his boot off of your back but then places it down infront of your face. “Now lick this one.”
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vasattope · 1 year
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~
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iksydk · 2 months
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jesus was a psychotic (has beliefs outside of what is accepted by power structures due to an openness that runs both ways) political dissident and is also my husband but also me but also i’m only a vessel for what was a vessel herself (st.catherine lol) and he’s waiting for me to come back and that’s why i feel such intense loneliness around people. next question. *skips giddily*
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opheliac · 10 months
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i just want to stop feeling suicidal so constantly and i want to stop having my paranoia spirals and i want to have peaceful sleeps without night terrors and i want to feel safe in my body and in my own space and i want to eat and i want to not be so overwhelmed by my psychosis and i want to be over everything that kennedy did to me but i also really wish i could contact him again so i could deck him in the fucking face and then i call c and ask her what the fuck why the fuck did she do that and beg beg beg my family to leave the church that is so clearly harming them and dooming them to tragedies.... and so on...
#why did i write about that pregnancy why did i use my abuse for an assignment why did i delve into these memories such a mistake#whenever i remember it happened im like oh my god i could have had a 9 year old maybe i did want to be a mother#maybe i am suffering now bc i was supposed to be doomed to the same narrative like most women in my community#like maybe it was a fluke that i got here bc i don't fit in i hate myself so much i feel like everyone hates me and wants me dead and gone#if i knew any of their numbers still i would ask for ativan again i cannot fucking sleep my anxiety is never ending#i cannot tolerate the weight of the emotions i want to be numb i want to be high i want to be dissociated again#i broke out of my constant dissociation and now im here and i can feel my feet on the ground and i am living pov and it hurts so bad#i want to be in the arms of my best friend i want to be on her floor stroking the fuzzy carpet while we eat penne together#ever since she came back into my life i am so happy i have that anchor again but oh my god it makes me realize how distant i am from everyo#and how little i trust#i also miss my other best friend that i never get to see but i want to hug them tightly and we never have enough time w each other but ever#moment is so vivid and strong and they make me feel so alive and aware of the world we are in and its such a blessing that they decided to#talk to me the day they did and the friendship that came after like idk#i dont have many close friends but oh god the few i have i love th#them so much and they make life worth living but ugh yeah im fighting voices and spirals and theres a lot happening inside#ill be fine i have a lot of feelings my life is nonstop chaotic bc i have 5 bpd/bipolar women in my family and all emotionally absent men a#and our narratives weave together so close so tightly i cannot separate myself but i want to but can i? do i want to?#ezra.txt
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
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I'm in a roll....
The 141 in grey sweatpants. 🥵
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You're in a roll? Me too. A brioche roll. Or maybe a Hawaiian roll. Or rolled inside one of Price's many cigars. Kidding (not really). I knew what you meant.
And grey sweatpants...yes please! I am salivating over here. Literally drooling. And it's only grey sweatpants. No shirts. No shoes. Just sweatpants and muscle. (my god I need to go touch grass).
These are...spicy. How could they not be? It's our favorite men in nothing but grey sweatpants.
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Task Force 141 x Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, suggestive themes, swearing, invitations for sex, dirty thoughts, sexual situations, married life, fade to black
Word Count: 2k
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“It’s bedtime. Bath. Pajamas. Teeth.”
“But Dad! Lucy and I—”
“Bed.” You grin into your glass as John ushers the children out of the living room. “Come on you two. I want to kiss your mother.”
“Ew. Gross!” the kids screech in unison.
The trio disappears down the hallway. You hear water running and the laughter of your children. John eventually emerges thirty minutes later. He runs his hand over the top of his head, sighing heavily.
When he enters the living room and notices you, he grins mischievously. His body is on full display. Broad chest with a lovely dusting of dark hair that trails downward to disappear beneath the band of his grey sweatpants. John is all thick muscle. A wall of strength. You’ve always loved that about him. How he seems to take up so much space or the way he crushes you with his body when he goes in for a snuggle.
John plops down on the sofa beside you. The moment his ass hits the cushion, John grabs for you. You giggle, playfully pushing at your husband as his weight tips you back, pinning you to the sofa.
“The kids,” you protest with a whisper.
“They’re sleeping,” he replies just as softly, keeping you pressed beneath him.
John goes in for a kiss. It is sweet. Slow. Deep. Completely indulgent. There is so much of him. And his scent is everywhere. It fills your lungs. Makes you weak.
Your lips part and John slips his tongue inside. You start to soften, to lean into his kisses. Each is salt-laced passion. A tease for later. He might have you pinned against the couch, and his tongue down your throat, but John will move this behind a locked door.
As John goes in for another kiss, the sound of a door unlatching comes from the hall. John freezes and you go still beneath him.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters.
Pushing up to a more seated position, John addresses the offender with a raised voice. “You best be in bed.”
There’s a gentle squeak, and then a door closing.
John sinks back down, resting his forehead against yours. He sighs heavily, and you give him a quick kiss. He returns it, and then snakes an arm under your back. He hauls you up and into his lap. You straddle him, hands pressed against his firm chest.
Through the sweatpants, you can feel his hardness pressing against your thigh. John’s hands roam downward to cup your buttocks, squeezing.
“Ready to take this elsewhere?” he asks, grinding his hips upward.
You have to stifle a moan.
“Please, John.”
With a light slap to your ass, he lifts you off his lap and onto your feet. The ground is solid. Steady. But then John’s hands return, and then you’re away, being guided down the hall to your bedroom.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
You snuggle into the couch and crack open your paperback book.
Everything is in order. You have a glass of wine, a bowl of snacks, the tableside lamp on, and a cozy blanket. It’s late, but it’s officially the weekend. There will be plenty of time to relax.
“Reading out here?”
You glance up, and find Kyle in the entrance of the hallway, leaning against the wall. He’s shirtless. Without shoes. Just him, his freshly showered skin, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Kyle absently scratches at his chiseled stomach, head slightly tilted as he waits for your answer.
You can’t help but focus in on every line of muscle.
“Babe,” he prompts, laughing.
“Sorry?” you reply, blinking.
Kyle laughs again, the sound sweet. He strides forward, coming to a stop beside the sofa. He taps the side of his mouth. “Got some drool.”
“Oh, fuck off,” you giggle, checking with a quick wipe with the back of your hand.
Kyle’s smile is infectious. You can’t help but match it.
“Can I join you?” he asks, already lifting the blanket.
“You’re not going out with the boys?”
Kyle shakes his head. With one hand he lifts the blanket, and with the other he grabs your legs and lifts. He slides in, and drapes your legs over his lap before returning the blanket to drape over your body. Keeping one hand under the blanket, Kyle rests his hand on your inner thigh. It stirs heat in your core.
“Tomorrow,” he yawns. “Simon has a sick kid.”
“Bummer.”
Kyle shrugs, draping his over arm over the back of the couch. His hand on your thigh is a brand, and it’s only made worse when he starts massaging.
“Is it a spicy one?” asks Kyle, nodding toward your book.
Yes.
“Maybe,” you say slowly.
Kyle smirks, and then the book is out of your hand.
“Kyle!” You reach for it, but he twists, blocking your forward momentum.
He examines the pages in front of him. Heat rushes into your cheeks. As he reads, his eyes widen.
Kyle’s mouth drops open.
“What?” you prompt. You try to snag the book but he blocks you.
He glances at you. “Are you aware of where he’s putting that gun?”
“It’s fictional.”
“When you ask me to recreate things—”
“Kyle—”
“—is this what you’re talking about?” His gaze goes from you to the book and then to you again. “I’m down for a lot of things, love, but I’m not sure I’m down for that.”
Pushing off from the couch, you snatch the book out of Kyle’s hands. He surrenders it easily, a smile on his perfect face. The blanket is a crumbled mess beside him, but that’s not what you’re focused on.
The grey sweatpants have shifted, exposing more of the deep v of his pelvis. But it’s not just that. Kyle is hard. That is very clear.
He leans against the back of the couch, throwing both arms out to rest over the top. Flexing his hips, Kyle puts himself on display.
“I’ve got something else I can put inside you.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
A delighted shriek comes from the kitchen.
Johnny emerges, completely unbothered even with the two children in his arms. He has the oldest child, who just turned five, sideways and tucked under one arm. The boy has a wicked smile of his face even as he wiggles, trying to free himself from his father’s grasp. It’s fruitless.
The other child, a boy of three, keeps shrieking with delight even as Johnny lifts him into the air by his ankle. He is upside down, arms flailing, his brown hair hanging below him.
Johnny doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t even break a sweat. He carries the two of them like it’s nothing.
He’s almost completely naked except for a pair of grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips. They show off the deep v of his pelvis, and the dusting of dark hair that spreads over his chest and descends downward. You’ve touched that chest so many times. You know it as well as you know yourself.
Johnny’s gaze is on the television, watching the football match. The kids still shriek and playfully claw at him. But he remains unbothered.
Sitting there on the sofa, you consider that a third kid might not be so bad. You’d give him a small army if he asked.
Johnny glances away from the television, and when his gaze lands on you, it is entirely knowing. Heat curls in your belly, and his smile widens.
“Found these gremlins digging in the pantry,” he says, indicating the kids by hoisting the three-year old higher into the air and squeezing the other tighter against him.
Both kids giggle manically.
“After brushing their teeth.” Johnny tuts. “What’s to be done?”
Both children continue to giggle, not answering their father.
“Sounds like it’s time for bed,” you muse.
The children groan.
“But I’m not tired,” moans the five-year old.
“Too bad,” laughs Johnny. “Come on.”
He doesn’t put them down. He carries them like that all the way to their bedroom. Even from your spot on the sofa, you can hear their manic giggling. After a while, it quiets down, and Johnny emerges from the hall.
Instead of sitting down on the couch next to you, he grabs the remote and shuts off the television.
“Not interested in the game?” you ask.
“Nope. Want something else.”
His sultry smile tells you enough.
Slowly, he approaches, coming to a stop in front of you. He offers his hand, and you take it. With little effort, Johnny brings you to your feet, and hauls you close. Your free hand immediately rises, pressing against his chiseled stomach.
“What is it that you want?” you murmur, already knowing the answer.
His hardness presses against your belly, his voice going low and gravelly as he speaks. “I’d like to spend some time between those gorgeous thighs.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever I very well please.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
This is agony. A terrible joke.
Simon is right there. Sweaty. Shirtless. In nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants.
He’s completely in the zone. Heavy metal blares through the stereo’s speakers, drowning out the sound of his gloved fists striking the punching bag. Morning light pours in from the open window, giving Simon an ethereal glow.
You watch from the doorway, chewing on your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to pounce on him. Simon is all muscle, and not in a gym rat way. He is thick everywhere. You want to lick the sweat from his skin, to drop to your knees before him, and tug those grey sweatpants down.
You know what you’d find. And it sounds delicious.
But he is in the zone. And you won’t disturb him.
Pushing down the naughty thoughts, you start to turn away, to return to the kitchen and find something to eat for breakfast.
The music abruptly cuts off.
“See something you like, love?”
Simon’s raspy voice draws you back to the room. With one hand on the doorframe, you meet his gaze, and promptly melt into the floor. He has a cocky grin on his face, and his shoulders heave slightly from exhaustion.
You lick your lips. “Always,” you reply, fingers digging into the wood.
Simon’s gaze scans you. You feel exposed, like he can see through your clothes. It’s knowing. Amused.
“What is it?” you prompt, staring just as hard as he is.
Simon removes one glove and then the other. He tosses them to the side, never taking his eyes off you.
“Come here,” he says.
You don’t move.
Simon arches a single eyebrow. Instead of repeating himself, he gestures with one finger, indicating that he wants you to come to him.
Heat rushes from your cheeks down to your toes. Slowly, you peel yourself away from the door, heading for him. Simon’s natural swagger is alluring, and those sweatpants sit so low.
Just one tug. That’s all it would take. And you’d be able to take him in your mouth.
As you approach, Simon reaches out, grabbing your waist, tugging you close to him. You instinctually hook your finger in the waistband of his grey sweatpants.
Simon smirks.
You inhale deeply, savoring the manly musk of him.
“Hungry?” he asks.
“Not for breakfast,” you sigh.
“For something else then?”
You nod.
Simon leans in but doesn’t kiss you. He holds back slightly, lips curved into a hint of a smile. “Want to hear what I have in mind?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
Simon presses his thumb on your bottom lip. “I can fill that mouth.” His thumb drops away from your lips, and trails over your chin before brushing over your stomach. “And belly.”
His gaze stays on you. “What do you think of that, love?”
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
Text
Lost.
Cregan Stark x Pregnant!reader
Summary: the reader accompanies her brother and Cregan to the Wall to discuss an alliance. But the news of Luke's death causes turmoil among them.
Warnings: Blood, cursing, grief, death, miscarriage, Cregan fucking crying
A/n: based on this ask!
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She had to practically beg him.
"No. No, and you need to drop it," he said as he began to lace up his boots.
She whined and pulled herself from the bed, her hair a mess and still only in her shift, "Cregan."
Cregan let out a soft growl, "You dragons just don't see reason, do you?"
She smiled and neared him. Her hands rested over his, keeping him from lacing his boots. "I want time with my brother again. Is that so terrible?"
"It's a two week trip to the Wall."
"That's at least a month with him." She gripped his hands tighter, "Please, Cregan."
He sighed, "The prince will have plenty of time with you before and after. I won't have my wife and unborn child far from the maesters." He let out a forced laugh, "Or near the men of the Wall, for another matter."
"There are maesters there, Cregan. And we all know I am safest with you."
He stared at their connected hands for a while, a million thoughts ringing loudly in his head, but all unvoiced. 
"We still have a few months until the birth," she continued to reason. "And you know I grow cold at night when you're gone."
Cregan smiled up at her. He pulled his hand from hers to rest over her small swollen stomach. 
As much as he wanted to lock her away from the threats of the world, he knew doing so would hurt her more than letting her go.
He chewed at his lip. "If I let you," he began, "You will take no chances. On anything."
"None," She agreed. "Nothing at all." Her hand joined his on her stomach. "I'll stay by your side. I promise."
"Alright." 
"Ready to go?" Jace smiled as his sister neared. 
She grinned back as she took his arm, "I've been ready since I heard you were arriving, brother."
He chuckled lightly as the two began to walk to the stable, "Must I say, you practically glow like the sun nowadays."
She huffed, "Do not lie."
"I don't," he said. "There is more color to you."
"That is only the cold nipping at me and coloring my cheeks."
He laughed again, "Maybe so. But either way, You are a natural, my dear sister. A healthy boy is on the way, I know it."
"A boy?" She asked with raised brows. "Oh no, Cregan and I think it's a girl."
He hummed in thought, "No. It's not. I know these things."
She laughed and playfully hit his arm, "You know nothing of this!"
He grinned and shrugged, "All the same. You'd raise a wonderful boy-"
"-Or girl."
"-or girl. Either way, I shall be a very proud uncle."
"Oh, you must wed Baela soon brother, please."
"So eager?" He asked with a smile.
"Our children would be such wonderful friends." Her eyes lit up and she squeezed his arm, "Or such a beautiful betrothal! Think of it!"
Jace look away in thought, "Perhaps so. I hadn't considered that."
"Only," she began again. "I shall pray your boy does not inherit your unruly curls!" 
"Ah, you're the one having a boy first. I said so."
"Oh. So, you wish to have a girl, brother?"
He bit his lip, "If the gods wish it, then yes."
"You'd be wonderful to a daughter, Jace."
His brows furrowed, "Let us focus on the baby at hand, please. And get you to the stables before Cregan has my head."
Cregan helped her into the lift at the bottom of the wall, pulling her to him to make room for Jace. 
"I sent a letter to mother before we left," Jace began. "About the child. Luke, Joffrey, and I will choose a dragon egg and send it to you upon my return home."
Her eyes lit up, "Thank you. That was… That was very thoughtful."
Jace looked up to Cregan, who looked at Jace as if he was going to explode any second. 
A dragon? In Winterfell? Around his child? 
But he said nothing. 
"Do have Luke pick it." She finally said. "He has the best taste in such things."
Jace laughed lightly, "I will. But I will not tell him you said so. I can't have him getting prideful."
A silence fell over them as the lift brought them further and further up the wall.
"So, what is this that falls from the sky and shivers my bones?" Jace asked.
"This is only a late summer snow, my prince." Cregan finally spoke, "In winter, it will cover all you see."
"It's quite beautiful, Jace." She smiled, "If you have a warm cloak, that is."
Cregan and Jace walked together along the ice halls of the Wall, the Lady Stark behind, making her rounds around the men at work, thanking them, and chatting as she moved. 
"Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince." Cregan began, "But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between north and south. In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to king's landing. I need my men here." 
He looked behind him to his wife, who was in an intense conversation meters back, a hand resting on her stomach as she nodded along with the man that spoke.
"While your men guard against wildings and weather, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne." 
The two began to walk up to the outlook, Jace continued, "If my mother is to defend her claim to hold the realm united, she needs an army. War is coming to the whole of the realm, my lord." He looked out over the wall. "We cannot wage it without the support of the North."
Silence filled the air, save for the sound of the wind blowing loudly. 
"Do you think my ancestors built a 700-foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?"
"What does it keep out."
"Death."
A man approached the two, "My lord, a raven's arrived. Urgent news from Dragonstone."
Y/n's head perked up, and she immediately excused herself from her conversation to go to her husband.
Cregan unraveled the note, his eyes flitting across the paper hurriedly, and a furrowing in his brows formed.
She moved to Jace and his arm wrapped around her side, pulling her to him. "Cregan," she said. "Is everything alright?"
He looked up at the two Velaryons.
Then held the paper out to Jace.
Cregan then reached out and took his wife from the man, having a new sense of needing her near him.
When Jace read the note and his hand covered his mouth, she became worried, "Jace?"
He didn't answer, but Cregan's grip on her tightened and one hand rested protectively over her swollen belly.
"Jace. Please."
"It's alright," Cregan whispered into her ear, "We're alright." He looked up to Jace, a silent plea to keep calm in front of her.
Jace's jaw clenched, but he forced himself to smile with gritted teeth, "Just a slight hiccup, dear sister."
He gripped the note with an iron grip, not caring of the tears or crinkles it could bring.
He shook his head and began to storm off.
"Jace…" "-It's fine!" He shouted. "Everything is just fine."
He stormed off before she could get it out of him.
She turned around in Cregan's grip, "My love. Please tell me what has happened."
He shook his head and brushed a piece of hair from her face, "No. You needn't worry about these things. It's bad for the babe."
"Cregan-"
“Please do not ask me to bring you torment, my girl,” Cregan said with a tilt of his head.
“Cregan, you torment me by keeping me in the shadows.”
“Trust me when I say, I am not.”
She pulled herself from his hands, “No. You do. Now, tell me.”
Cregan’s jaw tightened and his voice became stronger, “I won’t.”
“Speak the words, Cregan.”
He stared back.
“Say it.”
Silence.
Her voice grew desperate, “Say it.”
He simply stared, a slight tilt to his head.
“If you love me as your wife, you’ll not keep this from me.”
He immediately took a step and his voice lowered, “Do not use such words-“
She growled, “then fucking say it.”
He took steps to her, their faces not far, “You won’t hear it from me.”
“Then I will find it elsewhere," she sneered in his face.
She stormed off, Cregan left to stare over the wall.
He wanted to chase after her. Stop her and correct it all. But he just couldn’t.
This news changed everything.
She opened the door, finding Jace in the midst of a fit of rage, throwing his cup against the wall.
“Jace?”
He looked up at her, forcing himself to calm. She moved to him and held her arms out.
And he collapsed against her, weeping into her neck.
“Jace. Jace, it’s alright.” She cooed lightly to him.
“He’s gone. He’s gone and I wasn’t there.”
Gone? Who? 
Her mind began to race and her heart dropped.
Surely not Daemon. Jace wouldn’t weep as if his world crumbled.
Gods, Jace hadn’t wept at all since the day Ser Harwin died.
“Jace. Look at me.”
She pulled his face to look at him, “What happened?”
“I promise you, I’ll kill them all. I will.”
“Calm yourself, dear brother.”
“CALM MYSELF?” He roared and pulled back from her. “Our brother is dead and you tell me to calm myself?”
Hot tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffled lightly. 
A hand shot to her stomach.
“Luke?”
Jace brows immediately relaxed, “gods, you didn’t… Stark didn’t…”
“Luke is dead?” She whispered as a shaky hand covered her mouth.
“I didn’t mean to… please, come here.”
The two siblings embraced, Jace holding her tightly against him and brushing through her hair as she began to wail against him.
Her hands clutched at his cloak and it quickly became wet with her tears.
Cregan threw the door open and his entire body stiffened at the sight.
She turned her head against Jace’s chest. She spoke through broken hiccups, “Luke…”
Cregan’s eyes softened as he saw her puffy eyes, “I know.”
Jace tightened his hold, “Aemond hunted him down on his dragon.”
Cregan watched her eyes completely glaze over and her breath quickened.
She let out a low groan.
“Sister? Sister, please.”
She pulled away and a hand quickly moved to her stomach, her brows furrowed.
“Cregan…”
“Fuck…” Cregan immediately moved to her and pulled her into his arms. “My love, please steady yourself.”
A few more tears slipped from her eyes, “It hurts, Cregan.”
No.
No. No. No.
He gripped her biceps in an iron grip, “No. No, you’re alright.”
She shook her head, “No. I’m not.” She gritted her teeth and her eyes closed. “I’m not. Please.”
“My girl.” He cooed, “Let us sit you down.”
She gasped at a sudden feeling.
“Sister…” Jace took a step towards her.
“Please," She begged and held a hand out, stopping him. “I…”
A low and pained groan and her knees buckled.
Cregan caught her with ease, holding her up. “My prince. Bring me that chair.”
Jace moved immediately, pulling a wooden chair across the floor with a loud scrape.
Cregan lowered her into the chair, cringing at the whimper that left his wife’s mouth.
“Perhaps a maester…?” Jace asked.
“No-“
“-Yes,” Cregan nodded. “Yes. Please.”
“Cregan,” she cried. “I can’t. I can’t lose her-“
“-if we do not fetch the maester, then she will be.” Cregan’s eyes were set, as if challenging her to fight him on it.
“Fine. Fine, please.”
Jace quickly left in practically a sprint.
“It’s not your fault, you know.”
She turned to the Stark, “What?”
He looked like he was ready to cry. His bottom lip quivered, “if you do lose her.”
Her eyes saddened and her hand moved to his face, “I can’t.”
“You will, my love.” He forced a deep breath to hold back the tears and let out a breath, “She is gone now, I’m sure of it.”
If she wasn’t in pain enough, that multiplied it.
Four hours later, Jace and Cregan sat in the opposite end on the room, watching the maester work endlessly.
But they were silent. Their eyes were both fixed on the blood that stained everything.
She had fallen asleep long ago, from the pain or loss of blood, they weren’t sure.
But it gave their ears a break from her piercing cries that rang through the entirety of the Wall.
When the maester moved to the two men, they stood.
“My lord, my prince,” he began. “The Lady has lost much blood.”
“Will she live?” Cregan immediately asked.
“I…” he bit his lip. “She will, my lord, but…”
“That is all I need. You may go.”
“Lord Stark-“
“GO!” He growled.
The maester bowed his head and quickly left, pulling the door behind him.
Silence filled the room. Both men still stared at the poor woman who slept away the pain.
Jace had left not long after, wandering the halls of Castle Black in thought, so it was only Cregan in the room when she woke.
She let out a low groan, and he held her hand in his. "Lovely, how are you feeling?"
Her eyes studied him before a light sob racked through her.
He lightly kissed her knuckles, knowing that was the only comfort he could bring to her at the moment.
"I told you it wasn't your fault."
"But I…" She hiccuped and wiped her face with her free hand, "I pushed for you to tell me. I… I forced you to let me accompany you here."
"You did not do any of that," he reprimanded. "None of it."
Her eyes held a hollowed look to them, "I lost the future of Winterfell."
Her brows furrowed and his hand smoothed the hair from her forehead.
"A boy," she sniffled. "Would've been."
He felt a punch to his gut.
He'd seen battle before, but nothing caused him as much pain as this moment. 
He looked down at their intertwined hands, "It does not mean that all is lost, my girl."
"Then why does it feel like it?"
His eyes watered, and his nose scrunched in frustration. He wanted to curse as his bottom lip trembled for the second time today, "I don't know."
A single tear ran down the Wolf's face.
"But I promise you," He sniffled. Another tear down his face as he let out a soft breath, "You have not lost me."
"I couldn't give you an heir."
"And I do not know how to comfort you through it."
She pushed herself up and he shook his head, "No, you need to rest."
But she managed to sit herself up against the headrest.
Her hand brushed his cheek and he couldn't stop the tears that began to rush down his face.
"Oh, Cregan," she cooed.
His hand brought her other one up to his lips again, kissing her knuckles fervently this time, as if she would disappear if he didn't.
"Hey. Stop," she tilted her head. "Cregan. Stop."
His eyes looked to her through a blurry haze.
"It's not your fault either, you know." She finally said.
He forced a laugh and shook his head. "I fear I'd go mad without you, my girl."
"As I with you."
The two managed to catch their breath in the silence that followed, a promise that things would get better if they only let it.
He leaned forward to her, gently connecting their lips. 
She let out a whine, accepting his kiss eagerly. 
His hand moved to the back of her head, pulling her to him. He hardly cared about the salty taste of the tears on their lips.
He pulled away first.
"I'll promise our graybeards to the queen," Cregan stated as he sat back down.
She huffed, "Don't pity me and feel as if you must defend-"
His grip tightened on her hand, "I will have the head of that boy on a fucking spike." Cregan growled.
"He did not lose our child, I did!" She said with a raised voice.
His jaw clenched as his eyes bore into hers, "Aemond Targaryen lost the war the second he chased your brother with Vhagar. The graybeards will march when the time is right. In exchange for Aemond's head by the time the war is done."
"Cregan-"
"-He is why our son is dead. And the North will remember that."
She looked down to her stomach, rubbing a hand over what used to be there only hours before.
Cregan Stark's gaze became more rigid than the ice around them. 
"Winter is coming for the Greens."
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A/n: Okay, hey, now that you're depressed from this fic, let's talk. I'm making a Cregan Stark tag list! Let me know if you want on it!
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rhaenyratargcryen · 2 months
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you're my shotgun lover and i want it all | tyler owens (twisters)
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summary: Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells. author's note: i...wrote this...in one.......single......afternoon. my fingers hurt anyway he's so hot i have had a crush on glen powell since 2018 (set it up supremacy) but this movie reawakened something in me. i should probably watch top gun now
pairing: tyler owens x f!reader word count: 9,123 (...oopsie) warnings/tags: pWp (with, y'all!), alternate universe: canon divergence, friends to lovers, friends with benefits
also cross-posted to ao3 okay love you bye xoxo your comments and reblogs are appreciated but not required i will love you all the same i hope u like !!!! <3
all characters are 18+ these are 18+ activities minors pls do not interact my eye is twitching as i write this 
It has been one hell of a week.
The tornadic activity has been off the charts – more storms built up under ideal conditions for weather hell-bent on destruction in a multiple-day stretch than you can remember ever tracking before. Your team had obviously been up for the chase, but now that the storms have passed, and the sun shines on the cleanup efforts, you can’t help but wish you’d chosen a different life path. You love what you do, but God, were you tired. Blisters have formed on the palms of your hands despite the gloves you’d donned. You could practically feel the knots forming in your neck. You shovel one more load of leaf litter before heaving the blade into the ground and leaning against it. Across from you, a backhoe is demolishing and excavating the remains of a house.
You close your eyes and try to just let the sun warm your face, thinking about how fast it can all just be gone. Mother Nature’s a beautiful force, but she can be cruel.
“Hey, don’t be slowin’ down on me,” Tyler jokes, clapping a hand between your shoulder blades. You hadn’t heard him approach, and his voice has startled you, pulling you from your thoughts. “We’re ‘bout halfway done with our part, I think.”
“No,” you reply, swiping the back of your arm across your forehead, trying in vain to clear your bangs from your eyes, but they won’t budge. Tyler reaches up and, almost as if he isn’t even thinking about it, takes the unruly pieces of hair between his thumb and forefinger and tucks it behind your ear, underneath the temple of your sunglasses, to make sure it stays this time. The action is so intimate it sends a flush crawling up your neck. You chance a look around to make sure no one else has seen. “Not slowin’ down, I promise. Just thinking about how lucky we are to be alive. How sad it is that all these people just lost everything.”
You’ve known Tyler since the two of you were in college together, fast friends who’d stuck together through a lot that could've put a strain on any other relationship, although you hadn’t studied meteorology – you’d been in school to be a librarian. 
One night, he’d asked you to stay up and help him with a lab he’d missed for one of his classes, and he loves to say he knew it then – that you were hooked – but you were too far along in your degree to do anything about it now. Switching from an arts degree to one in STEM? You’d have had to start over from scratch. 
Tyler had formed his team while you were in grad school and he was working as a cowboy for the rodeo back home, and you’d dropped out without a second thought when he asked you to be a founding member, to travel the country with him every tornado season. Said he wouldn’t – couldn’t – think about doing it without you. You’ve been riding with him ever since.
The two of you share everything, always have, and sometimes you wonder if it might be too much for the professional relationship you’re supposed to have.
“That’s what we’re here for,” Tyler grins, the hand still glued to your back rubbing gently, sending goosebumps across your skin under your shirt. “To help ‘em feel like their luck is turnin’.”
Always the optimist, Tyler Owens. He clears his throat, the hand on your back pulling away, and steps slightly closer to you.
“One of the folks over there gave these to me,” he says, gesturing to a group of people gathering in front of a house that looks like something had tried to suck it into the ground from dead center. “I saved their cat from their screened-in porch, poor thing had been yowling all night apparently. Know these’re your favorite, so, here you go. I think you earned it.”
You take the tin from him and open it, your mouth instantly watering at the sight of the small, round butter cookies inside. “God,” you groan, picking one up and taking a bite, savoring it over your tongue. You can feel Tyler watching you carefully. “Thank you. You get me.”
“Do we get cookies, Tyler?”
Lily’s voice sounds from your left, and you glance over at her. The shit-eating look on her face tells you she did see Tyler fix your hair for you. Your stomach somersaults.
“If you’re good,” Tyler says, smirking, “after the sun sets, we can head back to the motel, find some shitty bar, and drinks’ll be on me, okay? How’s that sound?”
Lily whoops, turning to Dani, who’d since appeared beside her, and the two snicker and fist bump. 
“You need any help over here?”
You look back at Tyler, cupping one hand above your eyes to shield them from the sunlight. Despite your glasses, it shines bright from directly behind him, and you can hardly stand to look at him. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” you murmur in reply, bending down to toss some siding that had been blown off one of the houses on this street into the wheelbarrow you’ve been using. “You should go see what Boone’s up to – I don’t think anyone has seen him in a minute.”
No doubt Boone was hiding somewhere with one of the breakfast burritos Lily and Dani have been rolling since early that morning, seeing how long he can get away with not doing his part. He’s a good guy, but the manual labor side of the job isn’t really his thing.
“Eh, he’s better off wherever he is,” Tyler laughs, and a small smile takes over your face, too. “Hey, you sure you’re okay? You don’t need a break? You can take a minute to yourself, no one’ll judge. I know how this can all get to you a little more than it gets to everyone else.”
You know him well enough to know he’s not calling you weak-stomached, that he’s genuinely concerned for how you feel, but he’s right. It does all get to you. Settling in to help survivors of these natural disasters is just something that comes with the chasing – there isn’t one without the other for you and the rest of the crew. You nod, glancing back up at him. 
“I’m okay, Tyler. Go off and be the face of the operation – you don’t have to worry about me.”
Tyler’s eyes narrow, his gaze shifting between your eyes, trying to find evidence you’re withholding the truth from him, but he seems to find nothing. With a minute tip of his head, he turns to resume working through a long-term plan for rebuilding the town with the mayor and some other members of the local government. 
This is something else you know he loves to do – shmooze with higher-ups, show off his people skills. Not only are they higher-ups, they’re small-town folk. His kind of people. He knows how to get through to them, how to get them to trust him. You love that about Tyler. He’s never condescending – he always has a genuine desire to help. He’s been through this hundreds of times, and these people may only have been through it this one time. You look around at them, at the people of all ages picking up the pieces that remain of their community, then cross your fingers and send a thought out to anyone listening:
Please let it be the only time.
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After a few more hours of genuinely back-breaking work, you hear Tyler’s sharp whistle and know it’s time, meandering over to his truck where it’s been parked for almost eighteen hours. Using your teeth, you pull your gloves from your hands and hiss. They’ve been rubbed raw, the skin blistering where each finger meets the palm. You try to ignore the throbbing sensation, leaning against the passenger side door and closing your eyes. The rest of the crew sidle up to you, taking long drags from water bottles and cigarettes and trying to make peace with how you’re leaving this place tonight.
“Does anyone else want to break off to shower first?”
It seems Dani’s the only one, and they shrug, putting their hand out, palm up, to Dexter, who hands them the keys to the RV.
“Meet y’all there,” they say, stifling a yawn, and you know it’ll be a bit before you see them. The rest of you will have to pile into Tyler’s truck, and before you can object, the other three crawl into the back seat and leave you on the front bench with Tyler. You let yourself in and close the door behind you, buckling and watching as Tyler shakes someone’s hand and hustles to meet the rest of you. His Texans cap hits the bench before he does, between the two of you, and he turns his keys in the ignition, buckling his own seatbelt.
“Where we headin’?”
“There’s a place with a mechanical bull nearby. I vote there.”
“How nearby is ‘nearby,’ Boone?”
“Uh,” he pulls his phone from his pocket, does a quick Google to double-check. “Forty-five minutes?”
Dexter leans over and grips Boone’s phone, reading the screen. “In the opposite direction of the motel, Boone.”
Everyone groans, objecting, and you press your hand against your temple to alleviate the pressure there. The noise, God, the noise.
“Could we go somewhere closer to the motel, maybe?”
“It’s got a mechanical bull,” Boone stresses, and everyone rolls their eyes.
“Boone, you know damn well we’re not making it back to the motel if we go that far away.”
He groans, and you pull your own phone out, checking Maps to see what’s around the motel.
“This one’s three minutes from where we’re stayin’,” you say, showing Tyler your screen, and he nods, shifting into reverse, backing out, and starting down the one lane of the street that’s been cleared of debris. 
“Hey Boone,” you toss over your shoulder as Tyler shifts into second gear. “By the way. Long time no see.”
Lily snorts, smacking you on the shoulder to let you know she thought that was a good one. Boone shakes his head. 
“Hey, just because you didn’t see me all day doesn’t mean I wasn’t out there, too. How do I know you were workin’, weren’t sitting on your ass in the shade somewhere, hm?”
You hold your raw, red palms out for him to inspect and that shuts Boone up quick. Tyler whistles as he gets an eyeful of your skin.
“God damn, girl,” Lily murmurs. “That looks like it hurts. I think I might have Aquaphor in my bag back at the motel if you want some.”
“I’ll be alright,” you reply, knocking your elbow against her knee behind you in thanks. “Appreciate you.”
The rest of the drive is taken mostly in silence, everyone in the backseat trying to rest their eyes, but you stay up, your eyes on the road, so Tyler isn’t the only one making the thirty-ish minute drive back to where you’re staying, where you checked in only after it’d been decided which towns had been hit the worst, so you could reach all of them easily by truck.
“What’s goin’ on in your head? Hm?”
You turn to look at Tyler and he glances at you from out of the corner of his eye, then at your lap, at the fingernails you’ve picked down to the quick. “Real quiet over there.”
“Nothing,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t let Boone get to you,” Tyler says, tapping his right fist on your thigh once, twice, then letting it rest there. You brush your knuckles against his and he opens the fist immediately, taking your hand in his but not squeezing, careful not to put pressure on the blisters on your palms.
“It’s not that,” you start, then realize your mistake, your admission. “I really – I think I’m just tired. It’s been a long week.”
You’re acutely aware of your hand in Tyler’s. It’s not like you’ve ever been shy around him – your cheeks flush at the thought – but this is…different. Sweet. More.
“Yeah, that it has,” he sighs, adjusting his left hand on the steering wheel so he can drive a little more comfortably, but his right hand stays in yours. 
You settle back into silence, Tyler seemingly having dropped the subject, and your eyes return to the road, but you feel him looking over at you, checking on you, every once in a while. You try your hardest not to meet his gaze. 
Soon enough, Tyler is putting the truck in park, then shutting the thing off. The noise – or lack thereof, you guess – wakes Dexter in the back, then Lily, who snorts when she sees your hand in Tyler’s. You pull away and unbuckle your seatbelt, watching as Tyler, with a hurt look on his face, wipes his hand on his jeans and swings himself down and out of the truck.
“C’mon, Boone,” he shouts, slapping a hand on the door that Boone has his head resting against, and the man sits up straight, wiping sleep from his eyes. “The sun hasn’t even gone down yet. Drinks on me, pal!”
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The motel really is that close to the bar, so you all decide you’ll leave the truck parked there and walk home at the end of the night. The unspoken verdict is that you will all be getting shitfaced tonight.
The lingering smell of cigarettes in the air seems to rejuvenate everyone and Lily pumps a fist when she spots the old-fashioned jukebox across the room, then claps a hand over her mouth when she realizes there’s a TouchTunes sitting right next to it.
“Oh, I am so forcing you fuckers to listen to Chappell Roan all night,” she says gleefully, and you laugh along with her, looping your arm in hers and letting her pull you across the room while the boys settle in at the bar.
“So what was that all about?”
“What was what all about?” You play dumb, shrugging when Lily gives you a hard look and unhooks her arm from yours.
“Girl, seriously,” Lily scoffs, bumping your hip with hers and slipping a twenty dollar bill into the TouchTunes. Evidently she wasn’t joking when she meant you’d be listening to Chappell Roan all night. “I saw that thing earlier, the hair thing, don’t think I didn’t. And y’all holding hands in the truck. What’s going on there?”
You shake your head but she grabs your wrist. “I’m serious, Lil. Nothing’s going on. We’re friends – good friends. He noticed I was having a hard time today, and wanted to make sure I was alright. That’s all.”
You can tell she doesn’t fully believe you, and when she opens her mouth to object, you cut her off.
“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?”
Lily watches you, trying to read the small line between your eyebrows, but eventually she nods and lets go of you, letting you turn away from her. You push through the door to the women’s restroom, your nose wrinkling at the smell, but you ignore it. Standing in front of the sink, you watch yourself, hands shaking. This isn’t you. You’re better than this at shoving these feelings for Tyler down, way down – or, rather, you had been, up until this week broke you, apparently. Turning the knob for the cold water to the left, you let it run over your sore hands, hissing at the feeling. Carefully, you cup your palms and watch them fill, then splash the water onto your face, soothing the flush. There. That should help.
There’s a cold bottle of Coors in front of the seat next to Dexter when you arrive back to the group, “Red Wine Supernova” playing from the speakers. You almost snort at all the old men – regulars, no doubt – groaning out their distaste for whoever chose the music all across the room.
“Thanks,” you toss over your shoulder at Tyler, sitting on the other side of Dexter and Boone. He nods and nurses his own. You frown and settle onto the stool, leaning an elbow on the bartop so you can turn and face your friends. The cold beer against the palms of your hands feels so nice.
What’s wrong with him? He won’t make eye contact with you, and you notice his jaw clicking as he grits his teeth. What’s got his panties in a twist?
As the night unfolds, you find yourself laughing more and more, loosening up, letting the stress of the last week fade into memory. Someone has produced a deck of cards from God knows where and Dani – who did join the group eventually – is showing off card tricks you didn’t even know they knew. You feel a warmth spreading through your body, and you can’t stop thinking about how much you love all of these people. Your friends. Your family. Empty bottles are swiftly replaced with full, cold ones without notice, and everyone is languid, relaxed, unburdened by the work that you’re all doing.
You take a pull from your drink, using the cover of the bottle to risk a glance to Tyler three seats down from you to find that he’s already watching you, and the look in his eye tells you exactly what he’s thinking. That somersault-y feeling is lower than your stomach now. You’re only three beers deep, but the air in your head reminds you that you’ve barely eaten all day, so you’re a little more affected by the alcohol than you’d usually be. Impolitely, you reach across Dexter next to you to grab a handful of peanuts from the basket to his left.
Glancing back up at Tyler, you meet his heady gaze again, and he smirks around the lip of the bottle against his mouth. He knows he’s got you right where he wants you. You swallow nervously around another sip of beer.
Every once in a while, the two of you will get a little too drunk, stay until last call, sneak back to your motel room, and fuck. Nobody knows – at least you don’t think they do – and you never talk about it when you’re sober. Tyler will generally stay until you fall asleep, but he’s always gone when you get up the next day. Only once has he woken up in bed with you the next morning, and you’ve never made that mistake again. There isn’t a name for what you feel for him, you don’t think, and you can’t tell what he thinks of the arrangement. Clearly he likes it, or he wouldn’t be making eyes at you from across three people’s laps as you pull these peanuts from their shells.
“Alright, y’all,” Lily says, slapping a hand on the bar, startling you out of your thoughts. You watch her, popping a nut into your mouth. “Think I’m gonna head out. I suggest you all do, too, fuckers, it’s late.”
Everyone starts to protest, but one glance at the clock tells you you’ve all stayed much longer than you thought – it’s a quarter past midnight, and you’ve got to be up with the daylight. You balk, but if you want to talk to Tyler tonight, you know you’ve got to shoulder your exhaustion and stick it out a little longer.
“I think I might stay for a bit,” you murmur, watching everyone stand and gather their things. You glance over at Tyler, who you can see clearly now that everyone’s out of their seats, and he’s watching you, too. The look on his face reads plain, now – he wants you.
“I’ll stay with her,” he says, eyes on yours. The green in them has disappeared almost completely, you notice, his pupils blown wide. “Walk her back. Y’all head back if you want.”
“I might stay, too –” Boone’s voice cuts off, coughing as Lily elbows him in the stomach, maybe a little too hard. “What the fuck was that for?”
“You’re going to bed, too, Boone,” Dani interrupts, a hand on his shoulder, guiding him towards the door. They poke him once when he starts to protest. “C’mon, now.”
Everyone shuffles out the front, Dexter calling good night, and all of the sudden, it’s just you and Tyler. You don’t know why, but your palms begin to sweat at the thought of being alone with him again. He stands, palming his drink, and slides onto the seat next to you, his body angled towards yours.
He’s never made you nervous like this. You don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you.
“So,” Tyler starts, grinning at you. “You come here often?”
You snort, emboldened by the booze, and he chuckles in response. “Idiot.”
“God, but I do love making you laugh.”
You blush under his scrutinous gaze, and take a quick swig of the dregs of your drink, unsure what to say to that. He mirrors you, taking a sip of his own while his eyes bore into yours. Accusatory.
“You don’t do it much anymore, you know that?”
“Do what?”
“Laugh.”
You press your fingertips to your mouth and Tyler’s eyes follow your hand. “I guess I just haven’t had much to laugh about lately,” you start, sighing deeply. “Tornado season’s been hard this year, and you know how much that – it gets to me. As much as I love what we do. You know. Remember that family a couple weeks back whose daughter was stuck under her bunk bed when it pressed on her too long, lost her leg below the knee? That got to me, Tyler. It did.”
“It gets to me, too,” he murmurs, knocking his knee against yours. “I guess I’m just better at hiding how bad it affects me. You can talk to me about it, though. You can talk to any of us.”
“I know I can,” you breathe, trying to keep your hands from shaking. “I know. Sometimes I don’t know what to say, though, you know, what is there to say? It’s not fair to complain about how sad it makes me to watch these people lose everything.”
“You’re allowed to feel sad. And to feel frustrated. It’s not fair, you’re right, but we’re doing good work, yeah? Fighting the good fight. Figuring out what makes these things tick, how to warn people when they’re in the path, get them outta the way and safe. Maybe they lose their house, their car, but they won’t lose themselves, or each other. That’s what matters most. Just remember that.”
You look up at him, set your elbow on the bartop, and prop your chin on your open palm. Your hands don’t hurt so bad anymore, you notice. “Thanks, Tyler.”
“Anytime,” he smiles, but you shake your head. 
“Seriously. You always know what to say.”
A look crosses his face then, too quick for you to read, and he sets his drink down, flagging the bartender over to close out the team’s tab. You frown, wondering if you’d, ironically, said the wrong thing.
“What’s up?”
Tyler looks back to you, and this time, the look in his eyes is unmistakable. It burns. “Taking you home, sweetheart.”
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The walk back to your motel is done in silence. Tyler’s hand swings next to yours, and you feel it searching for yours more than once, but you don’t take it. You climb the stairs together, slowly, and he walks you to your door. His room is one more floor up.
You can tell he thinks you won’t invite him in, that you’ve changed your mind – or maybe that you never made it up. He hadn’t, after all, told you plainly that that was why he’d stayed with you at the bar. You unlock the room with your key card and step inside, opening the door only far enough for you to fit through it. You turn back to look at him, his face awash in the street lights shining into the hallway. You flip the lightswitch on next to you, illuminating the room behind you, too.
“Well,” he murmurs, making to head back down the stairs. “Good night.”
“Tyler?”
His head turns back to look at you, watching as you hold out one hand and he takes it, letting you pull him closer to you. You press yourself into him, push your whole face against his chest, your hip keeping the door from closing on the two of you. You inhale deeply, the smell of him overtaking your senses. His cologne, yes, but underneath that, the smell of dirt, earth. Home.
You feel his arms wrap around your back and you turn your head to the side, press your ear to his heartbeat. Your hands come up to scratch down his back and you feel it when he shudders.
“Stay?”
You hear his breath hitch in his chest, then the deep rumble of his voice as he says, “Alright, baby.”
With a short inhale, your eyes flutter, nearly closing at the term of endearment. You step back, pulling him with you, and as you close the door behind you, he pushes one hand up into your hair and pulls your head toward his.
“I, uh,” you whisper against his lips when they get close enough to yours, “I think I might shower first, if that’s okay with you?”
“Alright,” he murmurs, unlacing his hand from the strands of your hair before toeing his boots off and carefully setting them under the chair next to the front door. “You want company?”
You swallow. You’ve never done anything like that before. It’s always been quick. When you do this with him, you hardly ever have time for a chat before he’s got your shirt over your head and his mouth on your skin.
“Sure,” you reply. You feel him watch as you turn around and pull your shirt off, reaching back to unclasp your bra. The modesty feels redundant, but you can’t help it.
“Not gettin’ shy on me now, are you? S’not like I haven’t seen you naked before,” he chuckles, and you throw a look at him over your shoulder just as he’s pulling his own shirt over his head. He left his hat at the bar, you think. You’ll have to go back in for it when you pick up the truck.
“Tyler,” you scold, and he laughs at you, steps across the room to wrap an arm around your torso and press a kiss to where your neck meets your shoulder. The place he knows makes you melt. You sigh and push back against him, the feeling of his hard chest against your bare back a welcome one. This feels more like what you know, what you’re used to.
“Shower,” you remind him, and he nods, his forehead pressed into that spot now, and he pushes his fingers underneath the waistband of your jeans, running them along the bit of skin there around to the front, where the fabric splits at the button. He pops it undone, then uses his thumb and forefinger to grip the zipper and slowly – so slowly – pulls that down. He can’t help himself, you know that, and so you hold your breath and wait for him to push his hand into your panties. Ever a predictable man, he does just that, and you gasp at the feeling of his warm hand against you.
“Are you sure?” Tyler’s breath against your neck makes you shiver, and you press your ear to the side of his chin. He runs his fingers along the seam of you, finding first your clit, your legs twitching at the sudden rush of pleasure when he brushes his hand against it, then pushing down to find you wet and wanting. You cry out softly. “You don’t sound sure. You don’t feel sure.”
You hum, your neck stretching back until your head is pressed to his chest, and he pulls his hand back up to start working small circles on your clit, your wetness on his fingers allowing for smooth movement, with just enough friction to have you panting for more. 
“Sounds more to me like you kinda want me to fuck you with my fingers.”
“Tyler,” you whimper, telling him with just his name that you are getting close. He smiles against the side of your neck, pulling his hand away and shoving your jeans and underwear down just enough that his hand has room to smack your clit lightly. You squeal, right leg kicking out at the feeling, and he continues moving his hand in circles to soothe the hurt.
Your breath is coming out of you in short huffs, and before you can come, Tyler takes his hand off of you and wraps it around your stomach to join the other. You pant and whine, rubbing your thighs together to chase the feeling he’d had you practically pressed up against, now ebbing with the loss of his fingers.
“You said you wanted to shower,” he whispers in your ear, pulling your panties back up, and you scowl, pushing away from him. He laughs and holds his hands up in defense as you pick your t-shirt up off your bed and crack it at him like a whip. “Let’s shower, baby.”
“I might kick you out right now, Owens,” you snark, but the small smile on your face gives you away, and Tyler unbuttons his own jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor at the end of the bed. Your jeans join his, and you’re both left in your underwear.
“You wouldn’t,” he replies, pulling his briefs off slowly, biting his bottom lip as you watch him. “You like this cock too much.”
You can’t help laughing at him, but the sight of him bare in front of you does have you biting your lip. You step forward to cup his growing length in your hand. Before you can move it, Tyler puts a hand on your wrist.
“How’s your hand?” He makes to pull it away, presumably to turn it over and appraise your blisters, but you shake your head.
“S’fine,” you whisper, tightening your grip. You tug once, twice, and press a kiss to his bare chest, then tip your head back to search out his lips. He leans down to oblige you, his lips parting against your mouth as you twist your fist. You love these moments you share with him, when you’re both bare, physically, emotionally, away from the real world, and you can pretend this is an everyday thing. When you’re not trying to tell yourself you feel nothing for him. Like this is just how it is between you.
Tyler groans when you pull your hand away from him and you click your tongue, press that same hand against his bicep.
“Doesn’t feel so good, now does it?”
Before you even know what’s happening, Tyler is picking you up, one arm underneath your back and the other around the backs of your knees. You look up at his face and laugh. “Put me down, Owens!”
He grins and carries you the few paces into the bathroom, placing you on your feet in front of the tub. Tyler leans down and pushes his thumbs underneath the waistband of your panties, waiting for you to put your hands on his shoulders and step out of them.
He lets you pull away from him to turn the hot water on, adjusting the cold side until the temperature is perfect, before pulling you against his chest once again. This time, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your backside, and you hum appraisingly. You reach behind you to fist him again, but he shakes his head – you feel his chin brush against the top of your head – and he groans out, “Mm-mm.”
“What?”
“We’re gonna shower, baby, c’mon.”
You glance back towards him and watch as he flicks the overhead light on. “So we don’t slip and die,” he says, and you laugh, pushing the shower curtain to the side. Holding Tyler’s hand, you step over the lip of the tub and under the steady stream of warm water, inhaling deeply when it hits the sore muscles in your shoulders and back. Tyler groans at the feeling, too, when he steps in behind you.
“Here, switch with me,” he murmurs, guiding you by your waist until you’re the one underneath the water. You let it fall onto the top of your head, over your face and down the back of your hair, for a moment, eyes closed, relishing the feeling. Tyler reaches both hands up and brushes the water out of your eyes, runs his hand over the top of your head. 
“Shampoo?”
You open one eye, the other shut against the water, and nod. You gaze up at him, heart squeezing at the way he’s watching you. His smile widens and he takes the tiny bottle in his hand – it looks even more comically small now – and dumps the product into his other palm, setting the bottle down onto the edge of the tub and rubbing his hands together.
“Turn around.”
You do as he asks, inhaling sharply through your nose when you feel his hands run through the hair at the crown of your head. Your stomach aches with longing as you register how unnaturally intimate this is. His fingers feel so good against your scalp, which is slightly sunburnt, you’re now realizing. He massages the shampoo further into your hair, running his fingers down the back of your neck and across the tops of your shoulders. When he’s satisfied with his shampoo job, he steers you by your arms to face him again, then carefully helps you tilt your head back and rinses it all from your hair.
You watch him pick up the other small bottle from the shelf, warm water still running down the back of your head. 
“I’ll do my conditioner,” you murmur, taking the bottle gently from his hands. “It’s a – it’s a science.”
“I am very good at science, if you can recall.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “It’s something I’ve gotten perfectly right. It’ll take just a sec.”
So you work the conditioner through the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze as he watches your hands first coat your hair in the product, then rinse it out. He reaches forward to run his own fingers across it, as gently as he can.
“Hm,” he makes the noise in the back of his throat, pulling his hand away. “Soft.”
You can hardly look at him, the twisting feeling in your stomach shifting to something warmer, something further from apprehension, something that feels a lot like want. “You?”
Tyler shakes his head. “I’m good. Here,” he says, rubbing his hands across the plane of your upper back. “You’re tense. You worked hard today. Let me help.”
You weren’t going to protest, but before you can, Tyler guides you forward and out of the direct spray of the shower, then presses his thumbs into your muscle. You groan, your head falling forward onto his chest at the feeling, and he chuckles at you, continuing with his hands. “Feel good?”
“So good,” you whimper, and you feel his cock twitch against your stomach.
“You fucking dog,” you joke, and Tyler laughs against you, pushing your hair off the back of your neck and pressing his thumbs in there, too.
“Hey, what can I say? I like making my girl feel good.”
You freeze. His girl? His girl. He hasn’t noticed your reaction, and he keeps pressing his fingers into your sore muscles, pulling one hand away briefly to push the showerhead down and away from the two of you. You glance up, already missing its warmth, but you find that the steam rising around you is doing a good enough job at that.
“Here, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and guiding you to press your hands against the tiled wall to your left, running his hands down your back.
“What are you –”
Before you can finish the thought, you feel Tyler’s fingers parting the seam of your cunt from – from behind, and you groan at the feeling of his middle finger slipping inside of you.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his knees hitting the floor behind you. You toss a glance at him over your shoulder and your own knees nearly buckle at the way he’s looking up at you – with hunger, and with reverence, and with something else entirely unrecognizable. He looks wild. He looks in love.
One of Tyler’s hands clamps down around your hips and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh as his finger starts to shift in and out of you. You shiver and push your face into the cool tile, groaning softly when he finds that rough bit of flesh inside of you, the one that makes you come undone if he works it long enough.
“Yeah?” Tyler sounds fucked out already, his voice breathy against your skin, and you can picture the look on his face, the concentrated expression he gets when he’s trying to make you come. You try to focus on the feeling of the shower’s spray where it hits the edge of your foot rather than how good his finger feels inside you because if you think too closely about how good it feels, you’ll get lightheaded. And nobody wants that.
“Yeah,” you reply weakly, and for a few minutes it’s just like that, the only sound in the bathroom the shower, your panting moans, and the noise your pussy makes as he pulls his finger in and out.
“Sound so good for me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh again, and you whine, trying to protest when he slips his finger from you. He laughs deep in his chest and lightly smacks the swell of your ass.
“Don’t complain when I’m doin’ somethin’ nice for you,” he jok, and you can feel then that he’s shifting himself around. You want to look over your shoulder, want to see for yourself what he’s doing, but freeze when you feel his palms cupping your ass, his nose pressing against the inside of your thighs.
Your mouth forms the word oh, but no sound comes out until you feel his mouth press against your cunt, tongue pushing inside of you, and then you cry out, chest heaving, when he presses a sloppy, wet kiss to your clit. You pull your face from where it’s still resting against the tile and look down at Tyler to find he’s already looking right up at you. His grip on your ass tightens when you make eye contact with him, and he spreads you open wider for him, eyes narrowing as his tongue flicks again, and again, and again.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he moans against you, the vibrations causing your legs to twitch. You already thought you were going to burst, the steam from the shower, the way he’d washed your hair, the fact that he was in your room at all – it all made you feel slightly insane. To add insult to injury, he’s just pushed two fingers inside of you and immediately found the spot that takes you out, and you start to shake a little.
“Tyler,” you whine, pushing one hand down to grip his hair. He groans when you tighten your hold on it, fucking into you a little faster. “Tyler, fuck, gonna come.”
“So come, baby,” comes his reply, and you do, you come so hard that the toes on your right foot curl until you’re on tiptoe and Tyler has to reach up and grip your waist to steady you. You feel it crest, and peak, then subside, but he keeps working you through it, his mouth moving against you still, and a second, smaller – though still good – orgasm wracks your body right after the first.
You breathe through it, push your foot down so you’re standing flat on the surface of the tub again, and wait for Tyler to pull his fingers out of you. 
“Baby,” Tyler groans, squeezing your hips, his fingernails biting slightly into your skin. “You gotta let go’a me, if you want me to get up.”
His voice, fuck, his voice, you think, releasing your grip on his hair and turning to watch him rise from his knees, the tile cold against your back. You surge forward to kiss him square on the mouth and he catches you, smiles against you when you part your lips to taste yourself on his tongue.
“Was that good?”
“Yeah,” you breathe, pressing one, two, three more quick kisses to his mouth, before he reaches behind you to turn off the water. “So fucking good.”
Neither of you bother with a towel, instead opting to stumble toward the queen bed in the middle of the room and climb right underneath the covers.
“Hi,” you whisper when you’re settled in, the duvet pulled up under your chin. Your eyes rove over his face, then glance over to the alarm clock behind him. 1:56 in the morning. “You still wanna fuck?”
Tyler snorts, reaching over to poke you in the side, gripping the skin there until you start to laugh. “You still wanna fuck?”
“Yeah,” you reply, grinning, when you catch your breath. “Wanna?”
He’s quiet for a second, watching the duvet rise and fall with each breath you take, before he peels it off of you, using his elbow to push himself up until he’s leaning over you. There’s a rosy flush on your chest, your breasts heaving and it’s all he can do not to lean down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, the one closest to him. Instead, he runs the back of his other hand across your chest, catching against the hard peak, and watches your breath stick to the inside of your throat. You feel yourself subconsciously leaning toward him as his face comes toward you. You want him to kiss you, but instead, he angles his mouth to kiss the skin below your chin.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against your neck, pressing his open mouth to you there, and you gasp at the feeling – of his mouth against you, and of his praise. It all feels so nice. He just made you come in the shower, and now he’s going to make you come in this bed, hopefully more than once. 
You wrap your hands around his back and pull him toward you, watch as he settles in between your thighs. You can feel his thick cock, heavy, insistent, where it presses against you, and you want to take him into your hands, but he has other plans. 
With one hand pressed into the pillow on either side of your head, Tyler uses his knees to knock your legs out further, sitting back against his heels when he’s satisfied. He wraps his big hands around your thighs and pulls you closer, smiling down at you. “You’re so beautiful.”
You blush when he repeats himself, suddenly feeling very bare. He’s just as naked as you are, but you can’t help but feel like he’s seen your whole hand, meanwhile you hardly have any idea what cards he might hold. In the dim light from the lamp beside your head, you notice that you can see the green of his irises again. It seems like the shower sobered the two of you up very quickly.
His gaze locked on yours, Tyler takes himself into his hand, groaning at the pressure of his grip after neglecting his own want for so long, but he suddenly curses, pausing just as he’s about to press inside of you.
“What?”
“I don’t have a condom,” he breathes, sitting back again. He runs one hand through his hair, visibly weighing the options.
“It’s okay, Tyler,” you murmur, leaning up onto your elbows. “It’s okay. I have an IUD, and I got screened after the last time I was with someone. I’m good. I’m good if you’re good.”
Tyler heaves a heavy sigh, running his hands up your thighs. “You’re sure? I’m clean, too, cross my heart. But only if you’re sure.”
You nod. “My head is clear. I think I shook off my drunk an orgasm or two ago.”
A grin crosses his face, and you roll your eyes at him before he even opens his mouth. Two? he mouths, then whistles lowly. You smack his stomach, and he grabs your wrist in his hand, lightning quick, pressing a kiss to the pulse point there. Your jaw falls slack, and you go all soft and pliant, letting him pin your hands above your head. His body comes down over yours, and his mouth presses to your cheek, then your forehead, and when your eyes flutter shut, the ghost of a kiss crosses them, too.
“I’m gonna fuck you so good,” he murmurs, and normally if a man were to say that to you, you would immediately regret letting him into your bed. But for some reason, when Tyler says it, it sends that familiar warmth spiraling down into your gut. You know he means it.
Slowly – too slowly – he guides himself back to your entrance, shifting his hips so they’re resting comfortably against yours, and he presses himself inside of you. You hiss; the girth of him, although a welcome stretch, is also a bit of an uncomfortable one. He leans down to kiss you, working you through it with a thumb pressing circles into your clit, sliding himself in bit by bit until he’s fully seated. 
A groan pushes out of him when you clench around him, testing the waters.
“Careful,” he murmurs, easing his hips back. “I’d like it if this lasted longer than ten seconds, please.”
You laugh against the side of his head, pull your hands down from where he’d left them above you and wrap yourself around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. Tyler grips your thighs and starts to work himself in and out of you, carefully, gently, but you squeeze his waist with your knees. Encouraging him. Asking him to pick it up. You can handle it.
His hips start to pull back and snap against yours quicker and quicker, Tyler panting in your ear, lifting up onto his palms and pushing himself off of you. He sits up onto his knees and tilts your hips up for a different angle, one that sets sparks dancing in front of your eyes. You groan, head tossed back, and dig your nails into his thighs as his pace picks up.
“Fuck, yeah, that it, baby? I can feel you – fuck, feel you squeezin’ me.”
You hardly have a voice with the rate he’s slipping in and out of you, barely enough to squeak out, “Fuck,” before your cunt has him in a vice grip, working through another orgasm.
“Ohhh, that’s it, huh, that’s it.” His mouth is going a mile a minute, neither of you really paying much attention to anything he’s actually saying. You’re both focused on his own mounting orgasm – you don’t feel like your body is capable of much more than that – and you weakly clamp down around him once more. His eyes squeeze shut, his hips stutter, and he grits out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck,” before he slots against you and you feel him filling you. You run a hand down his back, soothing him as he comes, biting your lip at the feeling, foreign but enjoyable.
Tyler groans and glances down to where his cock is softening inside of you. He eases his hips back, cupping your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead as he does. “Shit, I’m sorry, are you okay?”
You nod meagerly, pressing the back of your hand against your warm cheek. He watches you and, assured that you’re not going to pass out on him or anything, stands and hobbles into the bathroom. The sink turns on out of sight, and you close your eyes, listening to the water run. Tyler returns with a warm, wet towel and wipes the inside of your thighs, swiping gently across your cunt, before folding the towel and letting it fall to the floor at your bedside.
You feel loose, calm. Safe. You hardly notice him turn the light off, but you do feel the bed dip beside you as he rejoins you under the covers and pulls you into his arms. You melt against his sturdy chest, his heartbeat under your face a comfort, the rhythmic tick tick tick of it lulling you to sleep. But there’s still one thing you have to know before you can relax completely.
His breathing has started to even out, but he hasn’t snored yet, so you know he’ll still hear you when you ask, “Are you gonna leave?”
He grunts an acknowledgement of your question, nuzzling down into the top of your head.
“Do you want me to stay?”
You know your answer, but you still bite your lip, considering the question. You hadn’t thought before that maybe he left after every night you spent together because he thought you didn’t want to wake up with him. “Yes.”
“Okay,” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then I’ll stay.”
If he’s at all worried about what will happen when you wake up tomorrow, he doesn’t show it, but anxiety courses through you at the thought of anyone finding out. Does he want the others to know? Because that’s what it feels like.
“Stop thinking about it,” he whispers, like he can hear your thoughts racing. “It’ll be fine. Just go to sleep.”
Easy for him to say. He’s out like a light. And you’re left alone with your thoughts until you fall into fitful, dissatisfying sleep sometime around when the world outside starts to turn blue.
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A pounding on your door wakes you from deep sleep – the deepest you’d gotten all night, at least – and you try to sit up but find there’s a heavy weight on your chest blocking you. You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing down at the sleeping body next to you. It takes a second for it to register: Tyler’s here. 
Tyler’s here. Sidled up against you, arm thrown over your stomach like this is where he belongs. He didn’t leave. He stayed, like he said he would. His face looks so peaceful – so beautiful – you almost hate to wake him.
“Come on, sleepyhead! Time to get a move on!”
Almost. You scramble to push Tyler off of you, ignoring his noises of protest, jumping out from under the covers and grabbing various articles of clothing off the floor to pull over your naked form. You plop back down on the bed, this time on his side, right next to where he’s starting to wake.
“Dude, get up, they’re gonna know you’re not in your room. They’re gonna know you’re in here.”
“So what,” he grumbles, rolling over as you push him and settling deeper into the bed. “Let ‘em.”
You sit up straight, one hand on his arm. “You mean that?”
He hums and turns his neck to glance at you over his shoulder. “Yeah, ‘course I do. You’re my girl.”
Your face flushes a deep pink and Tyler grins, reaching over to wrap an arm around you and drag you back down into the bed, pinning you under him and peppering an assault of open-mouthed kisses all over your face. You grin, thinking that you could get used to this – just not right now.
“Seriously, Tyler,” you laugh, pushing a hand against the side of his face. He squeezes your hip. “We have to get up. We gotta get back out there.”
Tyler sighs, loosening his grip on your body and kneeling over you. “Yeah, you’re right. Alright, alright.”
He stands and takes the top sheet with him, wrapped around his waist, and heads to the bathroom. To brush his teeth, you hope. God.
“You know,” he says, head popping back out into the room, mouth full of toothpaste. “Yesterday. I wanted them to see us holding hands.”
You watch as he smiles at you and disappears back into the bathroom, then fall back onto the bed, hands pressed over your eyes. 
Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are dressed, teeth brushed, hair taken care of, day packs slung over your shoulder, and you’re pulling the door closed behind you when you hear a whistle that pulls your attention to the parking lot.
“Damn, Owens!”
The voice makes you jump, and you groan. You thought you were going to get away with the sneaking around, but the rest of your team is watching from next to the RV as the two of you descend the stairs together.
Lily and Dani turn to Boone with smug looks on both their faces, and he rolls his eyes and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. They hold their hands out for him to slap two twenty dollar bills down into.
“What’s that?” You ask when you get close enough to them.
“We had a bet that you and Owens would come out of that room together. Well, that one or his. Didn’t matter which.”
“A bet I just lost,” Boone groans, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I thought for sure…”
The rest of the crew snickers, including Tyler, who won’t look at you. You poke a finger into his chest.
“Did you know about this?”
“No, I swear,” he says, hands up, and you don’t know why, but you believe him. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t drunkenly confess to Lily weeks ago that sometimes we, you know…”
You scoff, almost mad, but then Boone shouts and the scoff turns into a snicker because, hey, you love him, but you can’t help but relish in his defeat.
“So they knew?! That’s cheating!”
He storms off while the rest of you laugh, Dani clutching their side and following him around the side of the building to try to make amends, trailing off, “If it makes you feel any better…”
Lily looks over at you, then at Tyler, a grin swallowing her face. “So, are you guys, like, together now? Or something?”
You look up at Tyler, who’s smiling softly at you, clearly deferring to you to answer that question. You feel a surge of affection for him swell in your chest. Clearing your throat, you turn to Lily.
“Or something.”
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divinesolas · 6 months
Text
Sneaking around
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r.q: Hii I was wondering if you could do a Jacerys x twin!reader. Where they have been betrothed since they were young, and as the grow up they start slightly falling for each other. And one night she sneaks into his room and they explore themselves 👀can it be smut aswell. 💕🙏
w.c: 3.2k
c.w: porn with plot, misunderstandings, oral (f), p in v, very inaccurate first time, loss of virginity, jacaerys is an idiot, not proofread, supportive daemon, happy ending, avoids use of y/n, talks of baela/jacaerys
part two
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You and jacaerys were inseparable ever since you were born. You two did practically everything together. You ate together, you sat and watched him train while he would sit with you and watch you stich. It was hard to separate the two of you. Your mother even told you when you were very young you would cry if you even lost sight of him and they had to bring him to you to comfort you. 
You had thought nothing of it, not until you had reached the age of three and ten when your mother announced you were to marry him. You could not even process this news as seemingly right after came the news of lady laena’s death and funeral then very soon after the marriage between your mother and daemon. 
When you could finally have a moment to breathe back at dragonstone you tried to turn to jacaerys but he seems to be avoiding you at all costs. More interested in spending his day with baela and lucerys. You couldn't even get along with him let alone speak a word to him without him dodging you and mumbling something about being busy before walking away and most of the time he would be spotted talking with baela and it broke you. 
You began spending more time with Rhaena and Joffrey instead. Joffrey was far too young to even understand why you were upset but rhaena did and did her best to try and cheer you up.
It was hard to move past it but It got easier as the years went on and he still refused to even glance at you. 
“Do you think she will call off the betrothal if I ask her too?” you were now eight and one after your recent name day and dread filled you as you realized you were getting closer and closer to marrying jacaerys. You two still did not talk, you had given up trying to speak to him a long time ago. 
Daemon who was casualing sitting next to you takes a sip out of his goblet, “why ever would you ask her to?” 
You do not lift your head to look at him with his curious stare and continued to stare at the game board in front of you, picking up one of the pieces before answering,
“He does not like me, it would be better for both of us if he married someone else,” you place the piece down before answering him, “like baela.”
He laughs, he laughs so hard he has to clutch his stomach, “it is not funny.”
He wipes a tear from his face as he manages to calm down. “You're right it is hilarious.”
You scoff and cross your arms, “i knew i shouldn't have brought it up-”
“No no, please continue why do you think he likes baela?” He seemingly picks up a random piece from the board and moves it before leaning back on his chair and looking at you expectantly. “Why should I not? When we had been betrothed the first thing he did was decide he wanted nothing to do with me since. Even on our shared name day he says nothing to me except simply wishing me well. He spends every waking moment with her, and when he is not with her he is with my brothers and simply acts like i do not exist he does not even extend me a good morning or a good night for gods sake!” one of your hands slam down on the table in front of you, the board pieces moving but not falling over and you only grow more and more annoyed at the amused look on his face. 
“You are in love with him.” “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You do not deny it.” you angrily move another piece of yours on the board and lean back on your chair as he does.
“It doesn't matter he does not like me. I shall bring it up to mother anyway since you are of no help.” 
He chuckles to himself as a servant enters the room to inform him rhaenyra requests his presence. He shakes his head as he stands moving one of his pieces before turning back to you. “Give it time Issa dōna.”
It is the last thing he says before he is led out the room. You glance down at the board and throw your head back with a sigh.
He had won.
“She plans to ask your mother to cancel the betrothal.”
Jacaerys freezes his head whipping around to look at daemon who was standing closely behind him. 
“Whatever do you mean?”
Daemon laughs, “you sister. She plans to have your betrothal called off.” 
“Why?” 
“Gods you really are foolish boy.”
Jacaerys always believed you to be his better half. While he was more temperamental and hot headed you always seemed to be so rational and so kind. When he heard of your betrothal the first thing he felt was excitement, but it soon turned into fear as he began to worry he would not be a well suited husband to you. He began to spend more time with baela and his mother who taught him how to be a kind and honorable young man and in turn he had begun to ignore you out of fear of ruining your relationship. He had never thought you would turn around and ask for the engagement to be dissolved. 
“You should act quick, she seems rather determined to be rid of you.”
Daemon could barely finish his sentence as he watches jacaerys march out of the room and a smile falls on his face. 
– 
You almost jump out of your seat as the doors of the room you resided in busted open. You moved to a balcony and had been reading. You clutch your book to your chest as you lock eyes with a seemingly out of breath jacaerys who lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing you.
“Jacaerys?”
“Sister, good day.”
You have no clue what to say. This is the first to who knows how long he had come up and approached you himself. All you could do is nod your head as you went back to reading your book.
“Could I sit with you?”
You hum and he takes that as a que to take a seat right next to you. You attempt to focus on the words in the book in front of you but you feel his stare burning into the side of your face you can't help but to feel flustered and the words are nothing but a blur. 
“Would you not rather be hanging out with others?”
After a few moments of silence you cut through it like a knife without looking up at him you continue to feel him stare at you. 
“Who ever could you mean?”
You scoff, aggressively turning the page despite the fact you had not read a single word on the previous one. 
“Oh I don't know, baela perhaps.”
“Baela? I believe she's busy today. But what does she have to do with-” “Oh so you are finally spending time with me because your precious baela is busy?”
“Where is this coming from?”
You stand and take the book under your arm as he stands up as well looking at you alarmed, “y/n..”
Gods, you missed him. You missed the way he said your name.
“I must go i have a meeting with mother i must attend to,”
He looks alarmed and grabs your arm before you can rush past him, “you must not speak with her.”
He grabs your other arm and pulls you close to him so you are forced to lock eyes with him as you feel your breath leave you. He has a desperate look about him, a wash of guilt and sadness over his eyes. 
“I do not deserve it such as i do not deserve you but i must beg for your forgiveness for my transgressions. I have been a bad brother and in part a bad partner but I must beg you to give me another chance. I know I shall never deserve you and I should not have stayed away from you for so long but I was worried you would begin to resent me so I sought out to become a man you would grow to l- grow to enjoy spending your life with. I am sorry. I shall work everyday to earn back your favor and to earn back your trust but I must beg you to not dissolve what has been written in stone between us.”
A tear must have found its way out of your eye as he brings one of his hands to wipe it away, his eyes never straying from yours. “Jace..”
He smiles and leans his forehead against your and takes a deep breath. “I beg of you. Allow me to fall and grovel at your feet for your forgiveness.”
“You're not just going to ask me for it?”
“I do not deserve such an easy fate. You must do me the honor of earning it.”
You laugh and your smile grows as he also begins to smile.
– 
A switch from never seeing jacaerys to practically seeing him all waking hours of your day was a dramatic change. When you awoke he would be waiting for you by the door to walk you to breakfast where he would sit next to you and he would request you come and watch him practice with lucerys and you would try and not laugh as he practically threw the younger boy around like a rag. 
The more and more time you spent with jacaerys the more brave he would become. When the two of you would walk he would place his hand on your back and slide it down almost low enough to be scandalous oh he would pull you into a empty corridor of the keep before dinner and just run his hands up and down your sides as he nudges his head into your neck, seeming content with simply just touching you as such. 
Despite the fact he seemed content, you grew more restless. You wanted him. No, you needed him at this point. Finally having him in your grasp after many years you could barely keep control of yourself when you were around him, wanting nothing more than to jump in his lap and let him have you.
One night you're restless in your bed, turning side to side unable to ignore the ache that resided between your legs and groan as you run your hands along your face. 
You decided to fuck it and just go visit him. Throwing on a cloak and don't even bother to tie it, keeping a firm grip on his with one hand as you walk out of your room and as quietly as you can begin to make your way down the hall down the very familiar path to jacaerys room. 
You begin to rethink your choice as you stare down his door, your bare feet cold on the harsh flooring of the keep. You could see light peeking out from under his door telling you he was still up despite the later hour and against your better judgment you raise your hand and lightly knock on his door. 
You hear a chair scrap and feet paddling towards the door until the door opens and you're met with his shocked face.
“y/n? What are you doing here?” He quickly peeks his head out and looks around the hallway before grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room.
“I just wanted to see you.”
“In the middle of the night?!? Where you could have been seen, what would mother think?” 
“I'm sorry..”
You hang your head and jacaerys sighs and rubs his hand over his face, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get angry. I am just worried about your reputation.” 
He walks over to you and places his hands on your shoulders and you look up at him. You finally notice something, he’s shirtless. You should have noticed that sooner, of course he would be shirtless. You know most men sleep shirtless. Why would he be any different? 
He takes notice of your gaze and flushes, you take notice of the red beginning to shine on his ears and on his cheeks. 
“I am so sorry allow me to go cover myself-”
You grab his cheeks and he freezes. In your rush for him not to leave your side you forget about your cloak and it falls to the ground.
You gasp and move closer to him as a chill washes over you.
“y/n…”
His hands grip your waist and pull you right up against him and he drops his head into your neck and leaves a kiss there.
“Tell me to stop at once.” he continues to kiss your neck over and over as he runs his hands up and down your sides and you shudder.
“I demand you ask me to stop.”
His lips trail their way up your jaw and his hands rest against your cheek, “why must i?” “For your honor you must push me away for I fear I desire you far too much, it is improper.” 
“Jace.”
He groans and stops himself from kissing your lips, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing heavily.
“You must push me away.”
You decide to be bold and push your lips against his and he grips your face with his hands, kissing you frivolously.
Your hands find their way onto his chest and slide down under the band of his pants and he groans, his lips sliding off of yours, a trail of saliva falls between you as his head falls into your neck.
“Please, my love please.” he whines as his hips thrust against your hands. You had snuck away and read many a book about what a man and woman do in bed, especially after reconciling with jacaerys, and you wrap your hands around his dick and take your rub to rub around to the tip of it. He groans into your ear and suckles your neck. You use the seemingly constant flowing precum to pump up and down, taking pleasure in the way he whines and moans in your ear.
“You are too kind to me.” he slurs in your ear as you smile and work faster, “i only wish to please you, would you rather me get on my knees?”
You squeal as he rips your hands off him and lifts you up and carries you over the bed, “as thrilling as that view would be, I would much rather be pleasing you my love.”
He lays you down on the bed and gets on his knees pulling you closer to the edge, once he gets closer he lays his head against your thigh and admires you. “You did not come wearing anything under your gown?”
You cover your face with embarrassment, “do you think me desperate?” 
He shakes his head as he moves closer, “no, i am much worse.”
He licks a long strip up your core and grips your hips down with his hands as he eats as if he had never eaten anything before.
Your hands grip his long curly hair and you can barely contain your moans as you try to push him even closer to you.
“How are you so good at this?”
He hums against you sending chills down your spine, “I imagined this more than I would like to admit.” His words are muffled as he continues to assault on your clit but you can understand him clearly and moan even louder. He does not care, if anything he seems to encourage you by not faltering even for a second, if you could have any coherent thoughts you would wonder how he could breathe.
Your grip grows tighter in his hair and your hips fight against his hands as you grow closer and you feel him smile against you. “Come for me, I wish to taste it.”
And you do and he takes his time licking up each and every single drop before kissing his way up and climbs on top of you and smiles at you. His hands fondle your breasts on top of your nightgown, “could you take it off me?” 
Once the two of you are sat up he bunches up the bottom of your gown, “lift your hips for me.” he easily slides the gown up and off of you. His eyes glow as they rack over your body, “you are the most beautiful women in the whole world. I shall never deserve you.” 
He kisses you before standing up and sliding his bottoms off, you do not get any time to admire his form before he is already climbing over you once more and kissing you again.
“Please jace do not tease me.”
“I should prep you more-”
“I dont care”
“It will hurt-”
“All I want is you, please.” He looks worried but gives in as you feel his dick slap against you and you moan as you grip his shoulders.
“Please tell me if it hurts too much.”
It does hurt. It hurts like hell. A part of you almost tells him to stop pushing into you but you power through until you feel him bottom out. You two sit there for a while, the only sounds being your gasping breaths and his strained groans as he seems to be holding himself back. 
Once the pain seems to subside you test with a move of your hips causing him to moan out. “Do not do that.” “You can move.”
“Are you sure?”
“Please do.”
He is slow at first, so slow you can feel every vein up against your walls and you tighten around him and he hisses. As he continues to move your moans seemingly motivate him to begin to move faster and faster until he is rutting into you like he cannot control himself any longer. 
You sloppily leave kisses on his neck as your hands grip his back, you are so overwhelmed, all the feelings you hold towards your twin rushing towards you at full force.
“I love you.”
He stops, out of breath he grips your face with his hands, “what?”
Tears flood your face as you stare at him, you thought he never looked so beautiful. “I love you.”
He leans down and kisses away your tears as he begins to move once again, “I love you so much so so so much my sweet.”
In your rush of emotions you came yet he continues to kiss all over your face and your neck until as he did earlier his head slumps into your neck. “Where do you want me to-”
“In me please I beg of you. I need to feel it.”
And so he does. The two of you stay like that for a while, completely out of breath and covered in sweat. One of his hands comes to your cheek once more and caresses it as he lays a gentle kiss on your lips.
“I love you so much.”
“And i love you.”
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pigfacedbitch · 1 year
Text
Let's Break Up (I)
summary : you try to do the break up prank on your boyfriend.
word count : 0.5k
type : headcanons
pairing/s : Jason Grace / Percy Jackson / Nico Di Angelo x Reader
warning/s : none
here is my masterlist! Part II is composed of Leo, Frank, and Will.
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Jason Grace
"Let's break up."
Jason is formally trained to remain calm and level-headed in the most drastic of situations ever since he was young.
So if you're expecting him to look surprised or upset, he won't.
Don't be fooled though, he may look like he's listening as you explain but deep inside this electric boy is panicking! 😂
"Okay, Jason. What in Jupiter's name have you done to make (Y/N) upset? Think! THINK!"
It might take a while for Jason to respond because he is torn between asking you what he can do to fix it, what he did wrong, or just be desperate and beg you to stay with him.
So he does what any Roman would do in his place. Accept his fate.
He fixes his composure and coughs a little to avoid his voice from cracking.
"If that's what you think is best, I understand-"
"It's just a prank, love."
"Thank the gods."
You never knew your boyfriend could sigh that hard.
Jason laughs in relief and hugs you tightly, like he wasn't thinking of crying his heart out and eating ice cream alone in the Zeus cabin later.
He'll never tell you that though.
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Percy Jackson
"I want to break up."
"Nope."
Percy just can't see the two of you breaking up. No matter how much he tries, he knows it's literally imposible.
He already has a list of plans; when he will propose, where to get married, where you'll spend the rest of your lives together, how many children you two will have, and their names. Even the number of pets allowed in your future home.
But you don't give up easily.
"What do you mean, no? Isn't that my decision?"
"OUR decision, (Y/N). And I say no."
"But-"
"No buts, baby. If you're tired of this relationship then rest. We'll try again in the morning."
You just pout in defeat, taking a bite of the blue chocolate chips cookies his mother made for him before he left for Camp Half-Blood.
He smirks like the handsome devil he is, pulling you into his arms and lays his head on your shoulder.
"There's no getting rid of me, (Y/N). You're stuck with me forever."
He doesn't notice the small smile on your face, preferring not to have it any other way.
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Nico Di Angelo
"I was thinking of breaking up."
He would shadow travel even before you could say another word.
Just YEETS HIMSELF OUT😌
Good luck trying to find him because he would be nowhere to be found. You already asked everyone yet nobody knows where he is.
Hours passed, no sign of him. You got truly worried that you can't even fall asleep.
You were just laying on your bed, staring into nothing when you hear a knock on your window.
It's Jules-Albert, holding a bag of McDonalds with your favorite foods and drink. It also has a note.
"Just think about what you said with a full stomach. You do stupid shit when you're hungry."
You don't know if you should be offended or laugh.
Still in your pajamas, you run to the Hades cabin and knock on his door. No one answers.
You do feel a pair of arms around your waist and cold nose nuzzling your neck.
You turn your head to kiss Nico's cheek as he leans more into you. He then whispers in your ear-
"I love you, tesoro mio. Don't scare me like that again."
Gods, you didn't have the heart to tell him it was a prank.
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cutielando · 7 months
Text
summer love | t.n.
synopsis: in which you spend your summer with your boyfriend in his home country
my masterlist
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“Amore” Theo called to you as you were resting on the sofa in the common room, a couple of days away from the end of the school year.
“Yes, amore?” you mumbled, not moving your face from where it was buried in the comfy jumper Theo was wearing.
Despite it being summer, the dungeons were void of any warmth, the burning fireplace doing little as to heating up the spacious common room.
“What are your plans for the summer?” his voice was like a melody to your ears, being able to calm you down and soothe you in any situation needed.
“Don’t really have anything planned. Why?”
“I was thinking the other day, would you want to come spend the holidays with me in Italy?" his voice was soft, but it still made you tense up.
You knew about Theo's tumultuous relationship with his father and you knew how much his mother's death had affected him. You didn't think he would want to take you to his home, given that most of his happy memories and moments were spent anywhere but there.
"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother or anything, especially not to your father" you explained, hesitant about his request.
He nodded, sitting up to hold you better so he can also see your face.
"Amore, don't worry about my father. He's never around the house that much, you probably won't even see him at all" he explained, curling strands of your hair through his fingers.
You hummed, staring at the crackling fire while deep in thought. Spending the entire summer with Theo sounded like a complete dream, and you knew your parents would be more than happy to let you spend your summer with your boyfriend.
Theo had met your parents very early into the relationship. Due to the fact that your families were part of the same circle in the wizarding world, you all knew of each other. But the first time Theo met them as your official boyfriend, he immediately won them over.
Your father was particularly thrilled to have Theo in the family. He almost always stole him away from you when he would visit for the holidays, talking to him about God knows what.
Absentmindedly, you found yourself lifting your head from Theo's chest, gazing into his eyes.
"If I do decide to come, what would we do?" you asked, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen in his eyes.
A smile threatened to break out on his face, but he managed to keep it hidden for now, apprehensive that you would change your mind and refuse his offer.
"Well, we would stay at our vacation house right by the beach, we would travel to the most beautiful and history-rich places in the country, spend quality time together undisturbed, have amazing and constant uninterrupted sex..." you hit his chest at his last remark, making him chuckle and quickly kiss your forehead.
You giggled, nuzzling your face deeper into his warm neck.
As you laid there wrapped up in his arms, you couldn’t think of anything better than spending the whole summer with the person you loved the most.
“I’ll spend the summer with you” you spoke softly, kissing his collarbone.
Theo smiled to himself, squeezing you closer to his chest and burying his face into your hair.
A long summer awaited you both. A summer spent basking in love and happiness, away from the troubled realities of your lives.
♡♡♡♡♡
You knew that spending the break with Theo was going to be the time of your life, but you never thought it would be this perfect.
At the beginning of the summer, you had traveled all throughout the beautiful country that is Italy, visiting the most beautiful villages and cities, full of history and beauties to discover.
At first, you were a little reserved, not wanting to go overboard and make Theo regret that he brought you along. Only after he reassured you that he loved seeing you excited about traveling with him did you completely let loose and enjoy everything that Italy had to offer.
Of course, Theo being Theo, you would never leave a place without him buying you a couple of souvenirs. You almost ran out of place to carry them in your bag, but then he came to the rescue and purchased you an Extendable Bag, mainly to make sure he could continue showering you with gifts.
"I feel bad" you had told Theo after you were done visiting Florence and he had surprised you with yet 4 new gifts.
"Why?" Theo asked, genuinely confused.
"You're buying me so much stuff and you won't let me return the favor. I don't want you to feel like I'm using you or that you have to buy everything for me" you explained, fiddling with your fingers.
Theo couldn't believe his ears. How could he ever think that you, his innocent, soft and perfect little girlfriend, would ever think about using him for money? That thought was just simply not possible.
"Amore, I could never think that. I love buying things for you, your happiness and excitement make me happy. Your presence here with me is the best gift I could ask for" he sealed that promise with a kiss, and you didn't have any choice but to listen to him.
Once you had checked every single place you had wanted to visit off the list, it was finally time to retreat to his beautiful vacation house, where you would spend the remaining couple of weeks of summer break before school started up again.
If you thought his house was impressive, this one was straight out of a fairytale.
A gorgeous abode welcomes you both with a grand and gleaming door, poised to impress.
Within, a spacious living room bathes in natural light from floor-to-ceiling windows. Furnishings are arranged for cozy chats around a crackling fireplace. The kitchen gleams with polished counters, stainless steel appliances, and a meal-prep island. A formal dining room, with a dazzling chandelier, awaits culinary creations. Upstairs, bedrooms boast plush bedding and ample storage. Each room showcases a distinct decor. The master suite indulges with a spacious bath, including a soothing soak tub, separate shower, and dual vanities.
From the balcony, the fresh smell of the sea lingered in the air, the sand glowing under the hot Italian sun.
"I can't believe this is all ours" you whispered at Theo once you had taken everything in.
He smiled, walking over and enveloping you in his arms. "We have the whole place to ourselves. The maids have been instructed not to bother us, you have clothes here that I specifically picked for you, swimsuits so we can go swimming every day, dresses of every sort. I want you to feel at home here"
"Theo, my home is wherever you are" you cupped his face in your hands, leaning up and sealing your lips in a kiss.
Theo felt like he could cry in that moment. He had never felt a love like this since his mother had passed. He never believed someone could love him, someone as damaged as he was. But you did.
You saw past all of his anger issues, past the facade he tried to hold up and past all the walls he had built around himself for protection. You saw him for who he was, a boy who needed love, who needed someone to show him that he mattered, that he was important, that he deserved to be loved.
And you had vowed to be that person for the rest of your days, to make sure he would never go another day feeling unworthy.
♡♡♡♡♡
"Do you want to go swimming for a little while?" Theo asked, after you had spent the better half of the day in his bed, just enjoying each other's presence.
"Yes" you squealed, kissing his cheek before rushing to the closet in order to pick a swimsuit.
Theo chuckled and got out of bed himself, kissing your head on his way to the bathroom.
Once the both of you were ready, you started the small walk towards the beach, setting down your towels near the water.
As you discarded Theo's shirt that you had stolen, your boyfriend eyed you up and down and whistled, making you blush heavily.
"Stop embarrassing me" you mumbled, but Theo knew you secretly loved it when he complimented your body.
"I'm just admiring what's mine" he said, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands immediately tangling themselves in his curly hair. His hands slowly traveled down to your ass, giving it a light squeeze.
"Let's go" you took his hand and led him towards the water, enjoying the hot sea enveloping your bodies.
You spent more than an hour just splashing around in the water, enjoying the warm weather.
After you decided to get out, you both laid together on your towel, enjoying the sunset together. You were laying with your head on his chest, his fingers drawing shapes on your back.
"Thank you for bringing me here" you spoke up softly, not wanting to disturb the tranquil atmosphere.
"You don't have to thank me, I wanted nothing more than to spend my summer with you. Thank you for agreeing to come with me" he kissed your forehead, making you nuzzle even closer to his chest.
"I love you, you know that, right?" you spoke after a moment of silence, temporarily lifting your head from his chest to look at him.
He nodded. "I love you too, so much" he leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss.
Best summer of your life.
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lecsainz · 7 months
Note
OMGGGG!!!! 🩷🩵 Love your work! Can you do a Percy X (halfblood of your choice) reader and maybe affection headcannons? Like how he stares at you 24/7 and maybe him falling asleep on our shoulder and all that!!!!
BEAUTIFUL GIRL
parings: percy jackson x fem!reader
an: two weeks without a new episode, I can't take it anymore 😭😭😭
summary: the one where you and percy met at yancy academy, and what your relationship would be like.
( my last work for riodanverse || go to my main masterlist )
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You met Percy at Yancy Academy, and well, you quickly became friends – best friends, to be precise, since your room was conveniently next to his.
When Grover arrived at the school, he became more than worried about finding two demigod kids together.
As you excelled in your studies – you LOVED studying – you decided to help Percy out. However, Percy always seemed too distracted, often catching him staring at you.
Percy looks at the notebook where you were scribbling math problems and realizes he hasn't paid attention to anything you were explaining for the past twenty minutes.
"So, um, how do you solve this math problem again?" He asks.
You point the pen at him with a stern expression. "Percy, we've been through this like ten times!"
Percy gazes at you with a mischievous smile on his lips because, by the gods, he finds you incredibly beautiful with the braid you decided to wear today.
"Sorry, got distracted. You look really nice today." Percy says, shrugging.
"Focus, Percy! We need to get through this." You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are flushed, and Percy still finds it adorable.
You throw the pen cap at Percy, lightly hitting him on the head when you realize he wasn't paying attention again.
"Ow! What was that for?" He puts his hand where the cap hit him and pretends to be in pain.
"For not paying attention! Now, let's get back to work." You stick out your tongue.
Laughing, Percy tries to throw the pen cap back at you, but you quickly dodge, and poor Grover ends up being the target.
You two became an inseparable duo, like shadows to each other, and constantly causing Grover massive headaches.
Percy would talk about you to his mom.
Percy hesitated for a moment before dialing the number. As his mother picked up on the other end, he launched into a torrent of words about you.
"Hey, Mom, you won't believe what happened today. So, there's this new girl, Y/N, and she's amazing. Seriously, she's the smartest person I know, and she's always helping me out with my studies. And she's got this incredible sense of humor. We're like a team, Mom, inseparable. I don't know how I'd get through the day without her."
Sally listened with a gentle smile on her face, recognizing the familiar signs of her son being captivated. She knew Percy well enough to notice the subtle shifts in his tone and enthusiasm.
"Percy, it sounds like you really enjoy spending time with this Y/N," Sally said, her voice warm and knowing.
"Yeah, Mom, it's like... I don't know. She's just different, you know? Everything feels better when she's around. I can't explain it."
Sally chuckled softly, recognizing the telltale signs of young love. "Percy, sweetheart, sounds like you might be developing feelings for this girl."
Percy stammered for a moment, realizing that his mother had caught on. "I, uh, Mom, we're just friends. Really good friends."
Sally's laughter echoed through the phone. "Alright, Percy. But remember, love has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”
When you first heard about blue food, you didn't believe Percy's words, leading to a heated argument. It all ended when Percy pulled out a pack of blue cookies from his backpack. To your surprise, they turned out to be the best cookies you'd ever tasted.
During one of your study sessions, Percy calling you a beautiful girl, and the nickname sticking because you blushed every time he called you that.
Percy only realized he liked you when they arrived at the camp and you wanted to help Percy defeat the Minotaur, but he wouldn't allow it because he had already lost his mother and couldn't bear to lose his girl.
He told Grover not to let you follow him and instructed him to take you safely to camp.
The air in the forest was thick with tension as Percy and you faced off against the looming figure of the Minotaur. Determination burned in your veins as you gripped your weapon tightly, ready to fight alongside Percy.
But before you could make a move, Percy's voice cut through the silence, firm and commanding. "Grover, take Y/N back to camp. Keep her safe," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Your heart sank as you realized what he was saying. "Percy, I can help. We can fight this thing together," you protested, your voice trembling with emotion.
"I need you to stay safe, Y/N," Percy said, his tone unusually severe. "Grover will take you to camp. I can't lose you."
Tears welled up in your eyes, the raw emotion of the situation hitting you like a tidal wave. "I can't just stand by and do nothing while you face that monster alone."
Percy shook his head, a mixture of frustration and fear in his gaze. "Y/N. I can't risk losing you. Not after what happened to my mom."
A heavy silence settled between you two, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Percy cupped your face gently, his eyes searching yours. "I need you to trust me, okay? Grover will take care of you."
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you nodded reluctantly. "Just promise me you'll be safe, Percy."
He gave you a solemn look before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "I promise. Now go with Grover. I'll find you after this is over."
Grover approached, his expression mirroring the somber mood. "We should go, Y/N."
After that, you swore to yourself that the next time you saw Percy, you would tell him you liked him. That seemed like the smartest thing to do.
As Percy stirred awake, his eyes met yours, and a small smile played on his lips. "Hey, beautiful girl," he greeted, a newfound warmth in his tone.
You blushed at the endearing nickname he had given you, but concern soon took over. "I thought I was going to lose you," you admitted, holding a small cup of ambrosia-infused nectar.
His expression softened, his hand reaching for yours. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
Relief washed over you, and you laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder. "Good. Because there's something I need to tell you."
Percy raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?"
He looked at you with curiosity, encouraging you to continue. With a deep breath, you confessed, "I... I really like you."
Percy's eyes lit up, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You do?" he asked, as if surprised by the revelation.
You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, Percy, I really do."
"Well, beautiful girl, I think you're stuck with me now," he declared, a playful glint in his eyes. As you leaned in closer, he gently pulled you to lie beside him on the bed. When you rested your head against his chest, Percy winced in pain.
"Careful," he joked, "I just survived a Minotaur. Your head might be more dangerous than that."
You chuckled softly, and Percy couldn't help but smile despite the discomfort. "You know," he mused, "your laughter is my favorite sound in the whole world."
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sixosix · 10 months
Text
and his voice is a familiar sound | scaramouche
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forced proximity + childhood friends reuniting, humor, kissing and tension. suggestive implications and suggestive humor, a bit of scara’s mommy issues, wc 5k
ft. a down bad jealous bf scaramouche, bffs heizou and kazuha, and aether bc aether always has to be there
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“If I ask you to come with us for a vacation, would you say yes?”
Your bedroom was already too cramped for one person, with what you could afford with your money after quitting your part-time job. It made it incredibly difficult for all parties involved when you invited someone over, especially when that person had no concept of personal space. You barely looked up from the pages of your book, humming halfheartedly to whatever Heizou is saying. You heard vacation and instantly decided to not waste your time.
Heizou must have sensed these thoughts, too, because he forces himself into your field of view by nearly climbing over your lap. “Hey, look at me. Would you say yes?”
“Heizou!” you hissed, pushing him off before Heizou could wrinkle the pages of the book that’s definitely overdue for borrowing time. You started to think about taking another part-time job if your friends kept inviting themselves over and invading your personal space.
Heizou looked at you, his face doing a complicated combination of a frown and a smug grin. “Come on. You never join us on trips…”
“For good reason,” you said, gesturing to the lapful of Heizou you are currently getting bombarded with.
“You’re so mean,” Heizou laughed, thankfully getting off your lap. He refused to let go of you, however, immediately wrapping an arm over your shoulder and pressing up against your side. This must be one of his techniques to make the people he was questioning feel restricted. It was working. “How will you get yourself to settle for a nice, young man with that attitude? What are you even reading?”
“I grabbed whatever book had a pleasing cover so I can tune your nonsense out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.
“What?” Heizou clapped the book shut and turned to you with the eyes of a reprimanding mother. “I swear I’m being serious. Can’t you consider it for even a minute? You’re breaking my heart. Plus, Kazuha’s the one who’s inviting us out.”
Hmm. What a compelling argument. Heizou knew that no one could ever say no to Kazuha. You wouldn’t really care if your absence would break Heizou’s heart, but Kazuha’s disappointed eyes were enough to put a god to their knees.
You zeroed in on Heizou’s wording. “Who’s ‘us’?”
Heizou started listing each with a raise of a finger. “Just Kazuha and Aether—and a friend we met recently. Kazuha invited him.”
You frowned. You didn’t know Aether visited again. “How the hell did Aether get invited?” Then, upon careful reflection: “And who’s the new friend?”
“If he was around, why not, right?” Heizou laughed, carefully setting the overdue book aside from your view. “The new friend’s Scaramouche. Have you met him before?”
What a strange name. Kazuha always managed to befriend people from all over, like a child bringing home turtles and a new species of bugs. You made a note to look him up. “Never heard of him.”
He hummed. “Said he came from Sumeru but he looked pretty Inazuman to me. Funny guy. He’s like a disgruntled baby brother.”
“And you only met him, what, recently? Why is he invited to our group already?” you asked, like the territorial person you are. How come it seemed like you were the last to know about this guy?
Aether was alright. Aether came back every few months to check up on everyone and got roped into all kinds of things with your friends, so you knew him well enough already. You liked his long braid. Heizou and Kazuha had been your friends for as long as you could remember being a college student.
Heizou grinned, patting your head. “Scaramouche’s nice, I promise. You wouldn’t even notice he’s there.”
At your dubious stare, Heizou amended, “C’mon, do you think I’m the type to befriend an asshole?”
Yes, but Heizou wasn’t the type to befriend a major asshole whose opinions he vehemently disagreed with, and he thought belonged better in jail, so you had to think about it for a bit. At the very least, this new guy didn’t seem like a criminal.
Your friends loved traveling, with Kazuha mostly being the culprit, but you liked staying inside most of the time. They never forced you to go with them, so why was Heizou being suspiciously persistent today?
“I think he’s your type,” Heizou finally said, caving in.
“You’re trying to hook me up with him?”
“Not exactly… but you two would seem cute.” He went silent for a thoughtful moment. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed if you slept together.”
You made a face.
Heizou laughed brightly. “Alright, alright. You can go back to being the good poster student you are if you promise to think about it. Seriously. Kazuha’s moving to Liyue soon—he’s probably inviting us out because of that.”
“I’ll think about it,” you said, reaching around for your book.
You would. What Heizou said about Kazuha made you remember that there are only a few weeks left until this is all over—then, after that, you all might go your separate ways. That thought floated around your mind for a little while as Heizou made himself comfortable on your bed, sighing before he dozed off.
You sighed, shuffling to give him space. “If this is your way of trying to make me get laid, try to at least be subtle and not weird me out before I even meet the guy.”
You stalked Kazuha’s Insta to search up this Scaramouche guy and nearly dropped your phone.
scaramouche11206. It was empty, entirely useless for your research. Scaramouche’s profile was a public account, had zero posts, and had four people he was following. It was Kazuha, Aether, Heizou, and a Vahumana Darshan update page.
You checked the tagged posts, and your jaw dropped to the ground.
Scaramouche was Kunikuzushi.
Heizou was taking a group selfie in the image, his tongue stuck out and winking while the camera showed two other men. On the left was Kazuha, with his ever-polite smile, then on the other, with the all-black getup was what the tags said was scaramouche11206.
It was a little difficult to tell why you were enamoured with the masked face with a short hime cut for a moment, but the piercing stare to the camera couldn’t be mistaken. It was a minute of staring before it clicked. This was your Kunikuzushi.
You dialed Heizou before you could even think about it.
“What…? It’s five a.m.” He sounded like he just woke up, “What’s up?”
You swiped back to the image of Scaramouche, as if staring at it any longer would imprint each pixel to your brain and bring him to life before you. “Hey, where’s Kazuha? Tell him I’m going.”
YEARS AGO.
Summer. The cicadas rang in your ears. They chirped about as you and Kunikuzushi trudged further into the forest. Sunlight peeked through the leaves, splashing Kunikuzushi’s beautiful face in a delicate glow.
Komorebi. Shadows scattered on the ground. Kunikuzushi lifted his head and turned to you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
His voice was quiet, but even with the wind and the singing cicadas, you could hear him loud and clear. You could pick out his voice from a crowd. Your heart would know where to find him.
“I like looking at you,” you said. “I like you.”
He accepted the answer and continued walking. You beamed. Usually, Kunikuzushi would scoff and bat your words away, hiding his flustered face. But he didn’t.
Longing. Kunikuzushi turned back to you, stopping in his steps. You nearly bumped onto his back. “Do you like me enough to marry me?”
Was this a marriage proposal? You tried to think of you and Kunikuzushi, walking down aisles and reciting vows, and almost laughed. But then you tried to think of anyone else. You tried to think of a life without Kunikuzushi.
You thought of Kunikuzushi with anyone else and nearly threw up in his face. “You’re the only one for me.”
“Even if I hurt you?”
You frowned. “You would never hurt me, Kuni.”
Kunikuzushi’s expression crumpled. He could never hide anything from you; he was too expressive, eyes round and lip trembling. Your heart sunk to your stomach. You reached for his hands and forced him to look at you. “Kuni, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
He looked at the ground. “I said I didn’t want to live with her anymore. I didn’t really think Mom would make Aunt Nahida take me.”
The cicadas faded. The world fell into a hush. Your grip on his hands grew weak. “What?”
Kunikuzushi didn’t have a good relationship with his mother; you knew that. They were complicated. They always fought and he grew up to loathe her. You knew that. But you didn’t think…
You breathed in deeply. It was not Kunikuzushi’s fault. It was not Ei’s—and definitely not Nahida’s fault. It was just the way things go sometimes.
You forced a laugh, hoping to ease the troubled expression on his face. “Were you proposing because you’re moving away?”
Kunikuzushi blushed. “Shut up.”
Your face softened. He was always so cute when his face was as red as the red by his eyes.
Kunikuzushi inhaled sharply, taking your hands and looking at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “If I were going to ask you out, I would do it better than anyone who would try to marry you. So don’t entertain them.”
The trip’s plan was basically swimming when you could, staying at a hotel, driving out of the hotel to eat somewhere cheaper, and it would be stretched out for a few days. All in all, it didn’t sound too bad. With the type of people you were going out with, you were expecting a lot more drinking (Kazuha) and near-death-related activities (Aether). Although Heizou said it was Kazuha’s trip, he was apparently mistaken.
“It was originally for Scaramouche and his family, but his mother had last-minute changes and couldn’t go,” Kazuha explained as he helped you fit your luggage in the trunk of Aether’s car. “Scaramouche said it would be a waste and told me to invite my friends.”
“Woo-hoo, Scaramouche’s mom!” Heizou cheered.
“When we met her, it seemed like you hated her,” Kazuha mused as Heizou climbed inside the car. You were in the passenger seat while the two were shoved in the back. It seemed that even if you moved to a bigger apartment, you’d end up suffocated by Inazuman men either way.
“Hard not to after hearing Scara’s contempt for her. I’m an empath or something.” 
Aether adjusted the side mirrors. “Are we forgetting anything?”
“Where’s the Scaramouche guy?” you asked.
Heizou cast you a sly smile. “He’s already at the hotel, probably buying us other rooms.”
At least another thing about him hadn’t changed: he’s still disgustingly rich. You did some digging about the hotel, and it was the kind of place you could only dream of even looking at. You suddenly felt severely underdressed for a five-star hotel, with only sweatpants, a duffle bag, and a dream.
“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Kazuha said, and weirdly enough, you caught him looking at you curiously from the sideview mirror.
“No?” Heizou crossed his arms behind his head. “I doubt Scaramouche’s the type to willingly share a room with anyone.”
Aether scoffed, laughing under his breath. “Definitely not with us.”
You looked outside to hide a smile. It seemed that your Kunikuzushi hadn’t really changed drastically. This made you feel better about meeting him again.
“What made you change your mind?” Heizou asked.
You sighed and fell into step along with him as Kazuha and Aether went on ahead. There are families crowding the lobby, draped in gold that matched the fabric of the chandeliers overhead. Their jewelry was brighter than your future. Even the floor smelled expensive.
“Scaramouche did,” you mumbled.
Heizou’s brows lifted to his hairline. “Oh?”
“I mean—I don’t know, I’m not sure yet.” You were absolutely sure, but it’d be embarrassing if he didn’t recognize you at all, and Heizou would think you were just lying. It had been years.
Heizou tilted his head. “Well, whatever it is, I’m rooting for you. And if he fucks up, I know how to pack a punch.”
You didn’t doubt it. Heizou definitely knew how to pack a punch.
The hotel was so fancy and so meant for only rich kids that you and Heizou stood out like sore thumbs by looking around. Some woman your age walked past, her chin high and her steps light. You and Heizou looked at each other, then tried to mimic the same grace as you pair sashayed towards the desk.
“What are you idiots doing?” Aether asked as you reached them.
“Fitting in, unlike you,” Heizou said.
A new voice cut in. “Took you losers long enough.”
Scaramouche turned around after speaking to the clerk, his mouth in a thin line and his stare piercing. He also stood out next to the men in polo with his fingerless gloves and gold rings. He looked like he belonged better on an Inazuman fashion magazine cover than on a hotel vacation with a bunch of losers.
Heizou beamed. “Scara!”
“Hey,” Scaramouche said, then his eyes landed on you.
It was hard to tell if there was any reaction on his face because Heizou went up to him to ruffle his hair, stealing away his attention.
“Thanks for inviting us out. I didn’t know you were the type to want to snuggle with his friends.” Heizou waggled his eyebrows as Scaramouche pushed him away with a hand to Heizou’s face.
Scaramouche wrinkled his nose. “I am not sharing a room with any of you three. You snore, Kazuha snores louder, and I would wake up to Aether’s leg on my stomach the next morning.”
“That was one time,” Aether muttered, blushing.
“How many rooms are reserved?” Kazuha asked.
Scaramouche sighed, craning his neck. He had a really nice side profile. “Still two. The other one with a king and the other with two queens. I was supposed to have the first, but you didn’t tell me you were inviting someone else. This shithole’s booked full now.”
Your gaze fluttered away as they all turned to you. You bit your lip, frowning. Did Scaramouche not recognize you? He was acting like he didn’t. He was treating you like he would any stranger. That upset you, but for the entire car ride, you were also preparing for it. It probably would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t mentally prepared yourself.
Heizou grinned, slinging an arm over Scaramouche’s shoulder. “I suppose you have no choice but to share a bed with us.”
“No.” Scaramouche picked up his luggage and started rolling away. “Heizou, Kazuha, Aether, you share the king.”
The three men turned to you instead, surprise visible in their expressions. It was exactly because Scaramouche decided to share a room with you, whom he never acknowledged since you arrived.
You wanted to protest. If Scaramouche didn’t recognize you and opted for a choice that didn’t involve sharing a room with anyone, you’d rather sleep on the floor in Kazuha and the others’ room. But Scaramouche was already stepping inside the elevator and was holding the door for you.
You held your gaze to the floor the entire time as Scaramouche pointed at a room and told the three they would sleep there. Scaramouche flashed the card against the door of your room, then stepped inside.
“This one’s ours,” Scaramouche said. You couldn’t detect any hint of emotion.
The room was bigger than the two rooms at your apartment. It had two beds, as Scaramouche said, and a TV across. The room was cold as fuck. You shuddered, and Scaramouche remained unbothered with his layers of clothes that probably cost more than you.
As Scaramouche set his luggage on the bed closest to the window, you gathered the courage to not make this trip any more awkward.
You breathed in deeply. “I’m Y/N—”
“I haven’t forgotten.” He arched an eyebrow as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at you. “Have you forgotten about me?”
“No, no, of course not,” you said. “I could never forget you, Kunikuzushi.”
You stiffened, thinking it was a mistake and there must’ve been a reason he was called by another name, but you took a look at him and got distracted. His face relaxed when you said his name.
I could never forget you. It was sickeningly true. You can never forget about Kunikuzushi. He was your first love. He was so cute with his wide eyes; and he was very clingy, too, which made him all the more endearing.
But looking at the present Kunikuzushi, with his intense stare and permanently bored expression, he was hot, and you started to think that maybe your type was just Kunikuzushi.
Horror settled in your stomach as Scaramouche flashed a wicked grin.
“Then you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me, would you?”
“He said what?” Heizou cackled, hitting the wall as he threw his head back, laughing.
Scaramouche meant it as sleeping in the same room, but he could have— no, should have worded it better. Scaramouche laid down on his bed right after and went on his phone as if he didn’t say anything at all. You blurted some half-baked excuse and left the room to cry about it in your friends’ room.
When Scaramouche said their room was assigned a king bed, you didn’t expect it to fit five people—and Scaramouche said he wanted it for himself? The bed was incredibly big, almost in a lonely way. You have never seen an Alaskan king bed before, but now, sitting on the edge of it, felt as if you could fit your entire apartment on it.
Kazuha was in between Heizou and Aether, their backs resting on the headboard. They were about to sleep, too, but as soon as you burst in, they settled into position and listened intently. Except Aether, kind of; he was texting his sister, who was demanding a room tour.
“I never thought he would be this bold. I mean, demanding to share a room the moment he laid his eyes on you? Wow,” Heizou said, looking terribly criminal with his expression.
“It is surprising,” Kazuha mused. “I’ve witnessed how women flock to his feet and how he bat them all off like he never saw them.”
An unpleasant feeling washed over, which was weird because why would you be upset? Of course they’d flock to him—with a face like that. He had the looks and the personality that would garner him a lot of masochistic fans if he were a character in a drama.
“Does that happen a lot?” The way you spat it out spelled exactly how upset you are.
“No need to get so jealous, now. After that display, I’m positive that he wants as much as you want him,” Heizou laughed, falling forward and resting his elbows on the mattress. He moved his chin to his palm. He looked like he was going to ask if you wanted to paint nails and curl hairs the next second.
Your face felt hot. What was this conversation? You’d much prefer painting nails than talking about this. “I don’t want him!”
Heizou arched an eyebrow. “No?”
Even Kazuha looked doubtful, which was enough of a blow.
“I’m just confused,” you insisted. “You know what happens when you’re in a room alone with an objectively attractive guy? You get confused.”
“I get it,” Aether said, setting his phone aside to share his insight. “This is your sexual awakening.”
“What? No!”
“It definitely is,” Heizou agreed. “Why else are you crying about this to us?”
There was a sense of impending doom at realizing that Heizou was brewing some horrible, horrible thoughts in that head of his. “To stop feeding into my madness!”
Heizou clicked his tongue. “How do you think he feels? His childhood best friend came back to his life looking like that—I’m surprised he hasn't eaten you right up yet.”
You didn’t know what was more horrifying: Heizou implying he thought you were hot, or him implying that he thought Scaramouche thought you were hot.
Your face must’ve looked like a constipated mix between flustered and horrified; Kazuha chimed in to tell Heizou, “You should be more careful with your words. I’ve never met anyone as possessive as Scaramouche.”
“It’s already a miracle he even remembers me. He wouldn’t get jealous. I doubt he actually wants me that way,” you sighed.
“Oh, but you want him that way?” Heizou asked.
You wanted to slap that expression off Heizou’s face. “Of course I do. He was so cute when we were little—I already liked him then. I didn’t think he’d grow up to be so…”
“Sexual awakening,” Aether said again.
“Ow,” Aether whined when you hit him square on the head.
Reluctantly, you returned to your room. Heizou, Kazuha, and Aether told you to get your shit together and face this not-sexual-awakening like a man. Kazuha didn’t say it, but you could feel that he was also thinking it. And if he ever said it out loud, you’d tell him to go fuck off to Liyue already.
Scaramouche was awake. The door clicked shut, and you faintly felt like those heroines locking themselves up in a room to hook up with someone who they didn’t think was the murderer on the front page right now.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
You tried not to let your surprise show, but Scaramouche was staring so intently that you would’ve failed miserably either way. “The other room.”
The longer you looked at him, the more you realized that Kunikuzushi felt like a fever dream. Being only a few feet away from the guy you used to be so fond of, now grown and had an air of haughtiness that would’ve been a turn-off had it been anyone else— it was doing things to you.
“Are you scared of me?”
You laughed and nearly choked on it when registering that Scaramouche was still looking. It wasn’t something like embarrassment. It was more like laughing unabashedly and then sensing that your hallway crush walked past. Maybe it was a bit of embarrassment.
“No. No, I’m not scared.” You moved to sit on your bed, eyes trained on the wall. “You didn’t tell me you were back.”
“You changed your number. You moved out.”
“Oh.” You did do that. Your apartment was very far from your home.
“And I figured you forgot about me or wanted to forget about me because of what I did to you.”
“Oh.” You wanted to say that he didn’t affect you that much. Life goes on; you meet new people and lose them every day, and all that. But Scaramouche was affecting you that much, especially when he’s only a few feet away from you, looking like he wanted you to pounce him.
Scaramouche grinned lopsidedly. “But I guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
What the hell does that mean? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he figure it out? Were you that obvious with your thoughts about pouncing?
Scaramouche stood up from his bed, moving towards yours slowly. “Are you seeing anyone right now?”
You tried to avoid getting too close by leaning back, but he kept drawing his face closer, bending towards you. You’re one last tilt away from him pinning you down on the bed.
“No,” you blurted before you could even think about it. It was a little difficult to think about anyone else when you were a breath away from kissing. “Why?”
Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, electric indigo. “Do you still have a crush on me?”
“You’re asking too many questions.”
“We’re catching up. This is how it works, doesn’t it?”
No, it was definitely not how this worked. Your neck was starting to ache with this awkward angle, and he hadn’t even answered your question.
“Do you?” he repeated, hovering above you.
You gave up on the painful angle and laid flat on the bed, frowning up at him. You crossed your arms to achieve the stance of someone who will not back down easily. “How are you so sure I even had a crush on you?”
“You’re telling me I’m wrong?”
What was this? Some fucked up game of 21 questions, but Scaramouche was too high and mighty to follow the rules? You didn’t know what to say to that. You wisely decided to stay silent, glaring up at him.
You probably didn’t look intimidating at all. Scaramouche smiled, much less sharper. Almost fond as his eyes flicked down to somewhere below your nose. “Am I still the only one for you?”
Okay. You would back down easily if he kept looking at you like that.
“You didn’t hurt me, Kuni.” You sighed. “You never could.”
Scaramouche straightened, his face carefully blank. It was much harder to read him like this. You sat up, wanting to ask if it was the wrong thing to say. You couldn’t get the words out because he lunged for a kiss.
You might have gasped. You might have made some embarrassing noise while a laugh rumbled from the back of Scaramouche’s throat. But that was all thrown out the window the moment your eyes fluttered shut and you lost yourself in the sensation of his warm mouth on yours.
He pushed closer, and you were pulled back on the mattress, his arms on either side of your head. Your eyes flew open when Scaramouche nipped at your lip. As if suddenly remembering where and who you were, you forced his chest back and gaped.
“What?” He looked irritated you interrupted him.
“At least say it back!”
“You didn’t even say it,” Scaramouche said, one eyebrow raised.
“I like you, Kunikuzushi.”
Scaramouche turned red and then looked humbled that you saw it. “I still like you, too.”
You looked at him up and down. You asked, but you didn’t want to hear the answer. “And you didn’t have anyone while you were in Sumeru?”
“Of course not,” Scaramouche scoffed. “You think anyone there was worth my time? You think I’d settle for less than you?” He scowled. “How about you? Nevermind, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know. I’d do it better than any of them.”
You laughed, tugging him close with your arms around his neck. If anyone were to come in, they would assume the worst. Then again, maybe Scaramouche had plans to indulge in the worst.
wake up! let’s eat breakfast at the restaurant we saw yesterday!
ask scaramouche. so he can pay for us
Despite the freedom and space of lying on separate queen beds, you and Scaramouche were huddled and pressed close. And despite books in your bag, you were occupied with huddling and pressing close against Scaramouche. You were lying on his chest while he had an arm resting on your stomach.
As soon as Heizou’s texts appeared on the top banner of your screen, you looked up, and Scaramouche looked like he was going to murder someone.
“It’s a joke, probably,” you said. “They don’t see you as a wallet.”
“It’s not a joke,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t really care about that. You and Heizou close?”
“He’s the one who introduced me to Kazuha and the others.” You sat up from the comfortable position and stretched.
“So you’re close.”
“Oh, very much so.” Then you laughed at Scaramouche’s thunderous expression. “Idiot. Why are you jealous? He’s not the one I’m sharing a room with and was making out with last night.”
Scaramouche’s gaze cut down to your neck. He looked extremely pleased.
You and Scaramouche took the elevator down, holding hands throughout. You felt a little giddy. What must this look like to everyone else? They’d all assume you were out with your boyfriend. As you reached your friends, Aether had just started the car. Kazuha slipped into the passenger seat, and Heizou waved at the both of you.
Then Heizou gasped. Aether turned to you and gasped as well.
“What happened to you? You look like you were mauled by a tiger,” Aether asked, scandalized.
“If the tiger had a short hime cut and a thick wallet, maybe,” Heizou mused. You flipped him off and climbed inside the car. Heizou laughed and sat beside you.
Aether frowned. “What kind of tiger would that be?”
You groaned, burying your face in your palms and wishing that lightning would strike you down. You needed coffee. Or a beer. Maybe if you bat your eyelashes and kissed him on the lips, Scaramouche would buy you bottles of wine.
As if summoned by your thoughts, a figure forced himself in between you and Heizou. Scaramouche worked fast. He glared at Heizou and tugged you away from him.
Heizou’s eyes went wide. “What’d I do?”
“Know your place, Shikanoin,” Scaramouche said. You just wanted to at least not be half-sitting on his lap, but he was proving a point and didn’t let you budge.
Kazuha smiled. “I warned you, Heizou.”
“Damn,” Heizou said. He looked exhausted. He was the one who suggested you and Scaramouche hook up in the first place—did he not expect his intuition to be right this time? “Didn’t take you for the clingy type. Two more days of this?”
“This is not some fling,” Scaramouche hissed. “You think I don’t take this seriously?”
You smiled as your heart fluttered. Scaramouche could be so unintentionally sweet sometimes, not that you’d tell it to his face, because he would grumble and hide his face. You rather liked his face. It was pretty, and you knew that if you tugged his hood down, you’d see a bruise on his neck as well.
“Didn’t take him for a romantic as well,” Kazuha said, thoroughly entertained.
“Wait, are you actually a thing now?” Aether made a face. “What the hell happened in that room?”
Scaramouche smirked. “You sure you wanna know?”
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a/n it was already so hard for me to not turn it into a heizou fic dude. That entire first part was so unnecessary i was just hopelessly infatuated. BUT ANYWAY!!1 thank you so much for reading i hope u liked it <3 if u do, leave a comment or a reblog so i can see your thoughts :DD
also, another note: on the day i wrote this fic the insta acc of scara didnt exist. so if it does by the time youve read this fic, its pure coincidence and i have nothing to do w it. or maybe i did, because i came up w the name HAHA
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the20thangel · 2 months
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The Labor of Our Fruits
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Summary: Tumblr Request!: A Targaryen reader. She and Benji didn't get off on the right foot because it was an arranged marriage, but Benji loves her but is scared to show it. The reader is pregnant, and because Benji has been ignoring her when she goes into labor, she begs Benji to not let her die, and he feels terrible thinking she would think something like that. But ending happily with their little baby boy.
tags: childbirth, angst, fluff
Word count: 2005
(this is an x reader fanfic but just with a name)
Daella grimaced, feeling immense pressure as the maester pressed down on her stomach. She wished her mother’s healers were here instead of this maester, but she was far from home, far from her mother and brothers and step-sisters, far from the comforts of Dragonstone and the sounds of dragons roosting around the island. She realistically knew all she needed to do was ask to get what she wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Since their marriage night, she hardly spoke to her husband, Lord Benjicot Blackwood. How can she just go up and ask him to tell him to send for the healers from Dragonstone? 
Her marriage… was strange; that was the only way she could describe it. To ensure House Blackwood kept their alliance with her mother, Daella was brought to Raventree Hall to marry its new lord. He was not cruel, her lord husband, but distant. She did not know if having a distant husband was better or worse. In some cases better, because he never forced himself on her or commanded her to do things that might have made her uncomfortable. She greatly appreciated him for doing that; he was already better than her uncle Aegon.
On the other hand, having a distant husband was worse. She was lonely, growing a babe of a man she hardly knew, proudly doing her duty for her mother and husband but drowning in her isolation. She laughed at the gods' cruel joke. Was she turning out to be like her ancestor Daella, daughter of Good Queen Alysanne, who bore her grandmother Aemma only to die without holding her babe? 
Daella groaned quietly as the maester finished evaluating her. She sat up as the doors of the bed chamber opened, revealing her husband, Benjicot. Walking into the chamber, he saw the maester packing his bag. Benjicot quickly walked to his wife, pausing before her, unsure if he should hold her hand. Ultimately, he stood by her, watching her fidget with her dress. 
“How are they?” he asked the maester. 
“Both mother and child are progressing wonderfully, my lord; we should expect the babe to come any minute now.” stated the maester, bowing to the lord and princess as he walked out of the room. 
Daella swallowed; she did not know what to do now, such was most the case with her. She mainly floated around the castle, careful not to be in anybody’s way. Knowing that made her seem weird, she heard the whispers as the people spoke about the odd Targaryen girl their lord was forced to marry. 
Benjicot stared at his beautiful wife, wishing he could know her thoughts. His marriage was a quiet one. Both hardly spoke to each other, only short sentences here and there. His aunt urged him to make more effort to express his love to Daella, but he just didn’t know how. He was not good at romance, feeling more comfortable in battles. He also never wanted to be the husband who would force his wife to do actions she may not like. So he tried to give her space, allowing her to grow accustomed to her new home. 
Swallowing away his nervousness, he decided to try to make a small conversation. 
“How are you feeling?” asked Benjicot, seeing how Daella jumped in surprise, looking at him with her soft purple eyes. Oh, how he could get lost staring at them all day. 
“Tired… my lord,” whispered Daella, smiling at him, not wanting to seem rude at his genuine worry.
Benji smiled back, “Would you like to rest before supper, or could I have the servants bring supper to the chambers?” 
“I think I will rest a little and then meet you there,” Daella said, looking at his nervous smile. 
Benjicot nodded. Feeling awkward, he turned to leave, but before thinking about it, he turned back to Daella. 
“Should you want or need anything these last few days, all you need to do is ask, and I will try my best to provide it to you,” Benji promised as he reached to caress her cheek, only stopping mere inches away. Again, feeling unsure if she would accept his touch, He chose to walk away and leave the room. 
Daella, with great sadness, watched her husband leave her alone again in the chamber. Once the door closed, she let a small tear flow freely down her cheek. 
“I wish to go home,” whispered Daella, closing her eyes as she stroked her belly. Only allowing a smile to softly stretch on her face as she felt her babe kick her. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following day, Benji woke up earlier than previous ones. He had to ride out for a few days and needed to check in with the village. As he turned, he could not help but smile at the sight before him. He loved seeing his wife sleeping, seeing her in the most relaxing state. She always wore a smile on her face as her hands lay on top of her stomach. She was a beauty, and he wished he could show more of his feelings towards her. He wants to build his relationship with her but always becomes too nervous to act anything out.  Leaning down to provide a small kiss on her forehead. He made a vow that once he returned, he would start to show more effort in his marriage so that when their babe entered this world, they would have parents who were openly affectionate with each other. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Daella grew restless. Benji had been gone for a few days and was not due to return for another two days. She was trying her best to take over the castle duties, but she kept having cramps. Her babe was not due yet, so Daella started worrying. Was there something she was doing wrong? Was she harming her baby? She groaned from another cramp as a passing servant, recognizing the signs of labor, gasped and ran to the princess.
“My princess, how long have you been feeling these pains?” questioned the servant girl as she led the princess back to the chambers.
Daella exhaled, feeling the cramp alleviate for a second, “Since last night… I think..” groaning from another wave of cramps. 
“Princess, you are in labor, we need…. Someone fetch the maester. The princess is in labor!” shouted the servant girl to the nearest guard, who frantically nodded, running to do his bidding. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The castle was in chaos; the pained screams of Daella echoed in the halls as servants entered and left the princess’s chambers. Daella was lying in bed, watching the maester and midwives converse quietly. Her babe was taking too long to leave her body. She knew what the maester wanted to do… he wanted to cut the babe free from her body. She shook in fright; she did not want to die in the labor bed. She did not want to follow the path of her namesake and her grandmother, Aemma.  She wanted to live, not ready to enter the realm of Balerion. 
“We need to wait for Lord Benjicot to decide…” whispered the midwife, trying to stall the maester from doing anything drastic. 
“If we wait too long, there might not be anyone left to save.” argued the maester, looking back at the bleeding princess. 
Daella closed her eyes as she wept; she wanted her mother, she wanted Benji, and she prayed to the gods to have mercy on her and her baby. 
As if the gods were listening, the doors opened with a bang, and people gasped. A muddy Benjicot ran into the room, scanning for Daella, and saw her breathing heavily on their bed. 
“My lord, the birthing room is no place…” began the maester as Benjicot ignored him, running to take his wife’s hand in his. 
“Daella..” whispered Benji, moving some white hair away from her face.
Daella smiled painfully at her husband. She needed to be a dragon, and she would fight for her life. 
“Benji, please, please don’t let him do it to me…” pleaded Daella as she let tears stream down her face. 
Benjicot looked at his wife in confusion. What was causing her so much stress?
Turning to the maester and midwives, he asked them what was happening to his wife. The maester walked up to the lord as he explained that the babe was taking too long to leave the princess's stomach. Proposing that the best option to save the future heir of House Blackwood was to cut the babe out of the princess's body.
 Daella, sobbing, reached for Benji's hand as she pleaded, “Please don't let them cut me. I do not wish to die yet.”
Benjicot, heartbroken at seeing her in such a state, leaned down to kiss her forehead and whisper comforting words to her. 
“Shh, my love, I would never do such a thing to you…” 
“My lord, if we don’t, we risk losing the ba-” 
“Remove this man out of my sight before I turn and run my sword across his stomach,” growled Benjicot, shooting daggers at the gaping maester being led out by the guards. 
Benji turned to the midwives and pleaded, “Please, is there any way to save them both?” 
The midwives nodded, “It’s the princess’s first, babe. She has grown tired of using all her energy to push out. We can help her by pushing on her stomach as she pushes herself. It will be painful, but it is the best chance to save both mother and child.” 
Benjicot nodded, letting himself be led to sit behind her, pressing his hand on her stomach as Daella continued to sob. 
“When we ask the princess the push, we will need you, my lord, to push your hands downward with all your might. Even if she screams in agony, you push down. We cannot risk the babe getting stuck.” commanded the head midwife, waiting for him to agree. 
Once the young lord agreed, the midwives all went to their positions. Looking at him, they started to command the princess to start pushing. Benji, in turn, also pressed his hands on her stomach, feeling her body warp. Daella screamed in agony, feeling like her body was ripping in half. She wanted them to stop but knew that if she wanted to live, she needed to continue to push. Praying to the goddesses Meleys and Shrykos, she pleaded for them to hear her, asking for a safe, open road for her babe’s birth. 
Benjicot continued to press down as he kissed Daella's crown, feeling proud of her courage and bravery during this upsetting situation. She was indeed a dragon princess, not letting herself falter. He decided to express his thoughts as he continued to help her push. 
“That’s it, my love, you are doing wonderful; you are almost there, Daella, don’t give up… I know you can,” he whispered to her ear, his heart breaking at every scream she let out. 
Daella, even though tired, felt empowered by her husband’s words, inhaling she gave one last push. She will live, she will not die in this bed, and she will get to see her child grow up. 
With one last scream and push, the baby boy left his mother’s body, wailing to the world. Daella started crying at seeing her son. He was beautiful, with his father’s black hair and pale skin like hers. He was placed on her chest as she wrapped her arms around his tiny body. Benji, too, started crying at seeing his son, something that showed a promise of the love he was willing to show to his wife. 
As the young heir nuzzled his mother’s chest, he briefly opened his eyes, showcasing a beautiful purple color—the very ones Benjicot adored on his wife. Feeling overwhelmed, he rocked the baby and mother into his arms. 
“You did wonderful, Daella. You were amazing,” he praised his princess, kissing her cheek and continuing to rock them. 
Daella smiled as she leaned into her husband’s embrace, feeling she was finally home. 
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spencereidluver · 10 months
Text
D is for Diana
august 25, 2008
summary: You overhear Spencer calling his mother and telling her about you and how he's finally found someone like him and who can understand him.
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
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It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him. 
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.” 
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
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With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work? 
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season. 
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it. 
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
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next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist
view the masterlist in a calendar version! 
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a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definitelymy favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
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Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!
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taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
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roadkillremi · 1 year
Text
Catch Me.
Billy Loomis X F!Reader X Stu Macher
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MasterList
Warnings : MINORS DNI,( the following is all consented ) degrading, tying up, chasing around with a knife, chasing through woods, language, exposing the readers chest, a small grinding moment
Summary : Billy and Stu love to play their little games on Reader. This time it's a game of cat and mouse in the woods. But what happens when she makes it past the woods?
Billy reflected his sick games onto you all the time. He would pick out clothes for you to wear. They would be the most feminine and dainty things. This time it was a white night gown that went to your ankles. Billy smiled at you, "So pretty.". You looked up at him, "Billy I wanna go to bed.". He looked at you, "and leave me alone?". You darted your eyes around the room.
"No- I'm just tired." You whined. Billy shook his head, "You should have thought of that earlier. Before you called me all needy and shit.". You looked down ashamed of yourself, Billy grabbed your chin.
"It's okay, baby. Let's play a game, hm?". You looked up at him, "Billy I'm bad at games." You whispered.
"Shh, not at this one. Now let's play one of your favorites when we were kids.". Your eyes widen and you shook your head.
"Yes. Let's play cat and mouse in the woods." He grabbed your wrist taking you outside. You breathed heavily, you were sure it was another psychotic break from his mother leaving. He walked to the border of the woods.
"You run. I count to 15.".
"What about Stu?-" you whispered. Billy looked into the woods, "You know what happens when I catch you. So Run.".
"Billy. I'm scared." You said softly. He looked over at you, "Do you know what to say when you're uncomfortable?". You nodded, "What is it? What's the word?". You swallowed, "Parrot." Billy nodded, "Now run." He demanded. You took off wincing at the pain of your bare feet hitting the sticks. You glanced behind you, nothing yet. You stumbled down a hill tripping onto your knees. You hissed in pain, you heard Billy's boots against the leaves. You stood up quickly trying to find a hiding spot. You darted around finding two big rocks to hide between. You hated to admit it, but you loved running from Billy. He knew it and that's why he did this to you. You heard a low whistle and foot step. You looked down at the ground trying to steady your breath. Billy squatted by one opening of the rocks.
"Found you."
You crawled out the other end and ran off. You knew if you ran far enough you'd make it to Stus house. And you'd win.
His heavy steps were close behind you. The cold air stung your lungs. You pumped your arms faster as you saw Stus house in the distance. You felt relief in you and tried to run faster in the field of overgrown grass. Billy's footsteps grew faster and louder, you stumbled upon the porch. You banged on the door, "Stu! Stu! Open up!". Stu opened the door and you ran in and slammed the door shut. Stu looked at you a bit surprised.
"What's wrong?" He asked. He held you close to his lanky body.
"Someone's chasing me!" You panted, a knock on the door echoed. You shook your head, "Don't answer it, Stu.". Yes I backed up from him as Stu opened the door with a soft chuckle. Billy walked in and looked at you.
"This is the farthest she's made it..." Stu said with a wide smile. Billy nodded, "It is. She usually trips so God damn much.". You backed up into the couch causing you to fall. Billy and Stu walked into the living room looking down at you. Billy squatted, "What now, Bunny?".
"I-I won!" You fussed. Billy smiled and gently grabbed your chin.
"So naive. So dumb. So Pretty. That's why you're our final girl." He said grinning. Stu sat you up right, "Look at your dress it's all dirty.". You looked at Billy, "He made me wear it.". Stu put his finger on his chin, "Better take it off so I can wash it.". You shook your head, "No.". Billy stared at you, he leaned into your ear.
"Are you still wanting to play?"
You nodded, he backed away before standing up.
"Stu take her upstairs." He demanded. Stu grabbed at your hips, you pushed him away getting up. Stu took out his pocket hunting knife flicking the blade up. Billy gave Stu a small nod, you ran up the stairs. Stu laughed running after you, "Come on! Don't be scared, baby!". You ran around the hallways before locking yourself in a bathroom. Stu banged on the door, "Let me in!". You stayed silent, "I know you're in there.". The doorknob jiggled aggressively before it went silent. You stayed there waiting for a sign of him. You slowly creaked the door open looking down the hall. You stepped out silently walking, Billy pushed you against the wall.
"Get off!" You fussed. Billy smiled, "Got her.". Stu huffed, "I wanted to catch her.". Billy glared at him, "Then handle the brat.". He threw you towards him, Stu grabbed your wrists and pulled you into his room.
"You're okay with this?" Stu asked softly. You nodded, "Yes, Stu.". He smiled pushing you onto the bed, Billy walked in holding rope.
"Let's see if she wants to be a rope bunny for us.". Billy grabbed your ankles. You kicked at him trying to fight it off. He smacked your leg leaving a red sting. He tied your ankles together tightly. You kept fighting against Stu as he tried to grab your wrists. He put his knife up to your neck, you stopped fighting him. You stared up at him instead, Stu smiled and grabbed your wrists tying them together.
"What now?" You ask softly. Billy tilted his head to the side, "We hurt you." He smiled. Your eyes widen, he chuckled "Don't worry.". He grabbed Stus knife dragging it down your nightgown.
"It won't last long.".
Stu stood above you staring down at you. He grabbed your face smooshing your cheeks.
"Don't worry, sweetie. Its the stuff you like.". He let go of your face and back away with a wide smile. Billy pushed your ankles up revealing your underwear to the two men.
"Seems like she's enjoying it." He smiled. He put his knee onto your clothed cunt. He pushed it down watching you whine beneath him.
"Poor little whore. So needy for us." Billy whispered. Stu watched intensely, "Should've thought twice before calling us. Telling us how much you wanted us." Stu cooed. You groaned causing Billy to apply more pressure. You moaned softly grinding against his knee. He smacked your thigh causing you to yelp.
"fucking whore." Billy muttered. Stu hiked up your night gown more revealing your chest.
"No bra either." He tsked looking back at Billy. You grunted, "Asshats" you Whispered. Both the boys looked up at you, "Let her go" Billy Whispered. Stu backed up obeying Billy. Billy got up and left the room, Stu followed. You stared at the door and yelled their names.
No answer. You yelled again and again until your voice grew tired. After what ft like hours Billy walked in.
"Done being a little bitch?"
You nodded, he cut the top letting you free. He gently picked you up out of the bed carrying your tired body out of the room. Stu was in the hall waiting for you, "Is she okay?" He whispered. Billy shrugged carrying you downstairs laying you on the couch. Stu kneeled down to your level.
"Did we go too rough?"
You shook your head, "No, just tired.". Stu nodded before sitting on the couch snuggling you. Billy sat on the other end, his hand placed firmly on your thigh.
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