#growing my hair out has been an ordeal

[shermangiftbasket]

maintaining my reputation as a green little guy

[besnouted]

god grant me the strength to walk into great clips for a functional hair trim

[madelynraemunson]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

[roturo]

COOL WITH YOU - gojo satoru x f!reader - + 4.5k words

summary: You never though throwing chocolate milk would lead you to being enemies with the popular guy at school, which led you into even a crazier situation.

warnings: smut; unprotected sex, cock warming, dacryphilia, pussy slapping, mating press, finger sucking, oral (f!receiving), marking, degradation kink, slut shaming, edging, teasing, sexual tension, overstimulation. Enemies into idk into lovers. UniversityAU, popular student!gojo satoru, fluff.

TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK.

It was a really nice day, really.

Nothing out of the extraordinary, normal classes, normal notes, everything was going great! Nice weather, and even your hair was having a good day!, but lunch time had to come.

You were walking through the cafeteria looking for the table you and your friends usually sit at. Walking with your tray through other people, you were about to make it, until you stumbled and say stumbled for crashed into an almost 2 meter man, food flying everywhere, and if that wasn't enough, your choco milk made a mess on his white t-shirt.

WHY DOESN'T HE WEAR THE COMPLETE UNIFORM?

You felt all the possible stares into you, couldn't even see with who you crashed, way too embarrassed for it. Mumbling a lot of 'sorry, i'm going to pay it for you' 'I can wash it for you, i'm so sorry.' 'I'll buy you a new one.'  You finally looked up and saw who it was.

Gojo Satoru. The popular guy in school. Might not be the smartest, but he has good grades. Not much of a troublemaker (he is), has dated at-least half of the girls in this school, and someway he still has a line of girls waiting for his turn.

He was next his best-friend. Suguru Geto, smartest guy in your class, he's more peaceful, just watches from a distance, a cute smirk,  hasn't dated half of the girls in school, but still has a long line of girls waiting for a chance.

Your face flushed with embarrassment as she saw that the dark liquid from your spilled bottle had stained his pristine white shirt. Gojo's expression was anything but pleased, and he snapped at you, "Watch where you're going dumbass!"

You tried to apologize, but Gojo had clearly made up his mind about you. From that day on, Gojo wouldn't miss any chance to humiliate you just like you did that day in the cafeteria.

He wouldn't let go of that day, calling you all types of nicknames related to it. ¨Milkie¨ ¨Choco-latte¨ and much more. Mostly throwing your books you had in your arms walking through the halls, always putting milk on your desk when recess was done.

He would often challenge you with difficult questions in class, and you would slowly find yourself doing the same. Days went over and you were now annoyed at his behavior. Who does he think he is? He couldn't treat people like he wanted to!

¨Can you stop?¨ Utahime stopped eating, dramatically putting the fork down. ¨Stop what?¨

¨Stop looking at fucking Gojo Satoru! It’s been like two months and you’re still annoyed at him.¨ 

Oh god. He's looking back at your table, Utahime said it loud enough so half of the cafeteria could hear. Feeling your face growing hot you looked back at your friend, her face showing how unbothered she is by the annoyed side-eyes you guys were receiving.

¨It's like you got obsessed with him or something! All you do is talk about him, how angry you are about him, how he did this, how he did that, do you like HIM or what?¨

¨Of course NO! I don't like Gojo-...¨

A small cough interrupted the small discussion you were having, looking up for the person who annoyingly stopped you trying to justify why you don't like the Gojo Satoru, was in fact, the Gojo Satoru.

He was standing in all glory in front of your table with his best friend, Geto, which seemed kinda unbothered with this whole ordeal.

You looked like a little kid being caught trying to grab another candy from the bowl after he got his daily one... which made Gojo chuckle.

How cute.

¨I'm sorry ladies for interrupting your chat, but me, and my friend Geto Suguru, wanted to invite you to our upcoming party this weekend. Right Suguru?¨ He nudged Geto, with his annoying smirk, at what Geto just nodded.

You were about to deny the offer, saying you’re not one of his easy girls to smash with, but Utahime was faster than you and said yes to the invitation and lent her phone so they could send her the place and time.

Oh, well, fuck.

Utahime greeted you into her house with her radiant smile, her eyes shining with mischief. "I would’ve killed you if you didn’t come!" she exclaimed, pulling you into her room. "Tonight, you’re going to have a great fuck and forget that annoying asshole!" You rolled your eyes because of her assumption of you liking Gojo. 

Utahime couldn't resist the thrill of the invitation, saying it’s ¨an event you have to live at least once at uni.¨ You spent hours preparing yourselves. Mostly, Utahime carefully choosing the perfect outfit and a dash of confidence to match. 

You and Utahime arrived at the party, the room buzzed with laughter, music, and vibrant conversations. You’ve been spending the whole night thinking of a way to take revenge on Gojo, and show Utahime proof you don’t like him. You have tried plenty of ways; winning at sports games, not a surprise he’s better than you, but it still pisses you off how irritating he is. You also tried beating him at exams, which somehow you did beat him on them, but somehow he gets more acknowledgment about having a 9 than you having a 10?

Does he fuck the teacher too?

Fuck.

Fuck…

Fuck!

That’s what you need! To fuck Gojo Satoru.

…

Not in that way…

Well, yes. But not him fucking you. You fucking him.

His whole ego is based on how every girl likes him, so… what if you do what he does to the other girls?

Geto greeted the both of you with a smile, offering you something to drink, which you denied, contrary to Utahime. You were having a small chat with your friend and a friend of hers, she was really nice, short haired, not that tall but not that short, she's a friend of Satoru & Suguru apparently… a pretty smile adorning her face while talking with Utahime, her name was Shoko.

And Shoko is really fun, really, but you couldn’t stop from distracting yourself, eyes following the tall frame, going from girl to girl all around the house. It infuriated you how they could be so clueless of the man they’re talking with.

You decided you needed to distract yourself and stop focusing on what he’s doing. Entering the kitchen was really calm, two people chatting while drinking. Preparing yourself a drink, you felt a small push in your shoulder, and it’s like destiny made you to never stop thinking about him, since somehow he was always there.

¨Oops, didn’t see you there.¨ His stupid face, with his stupid smirk.

¨Can’t stop disturbing me for one minute in your entire life?!¨

¨Me? Disturb you? You’re the one who won't stop looking at the other like some obsessed stalker!¨

¨Well, it’s not my fault you keep fooling those girls thinking if they let you fuck them they will be with you at least more than a week before you get bored!¨

He laughed at you, which only made you even angrier. ¨Are you jealous or what?¨

¨I’m not jealous- … don’t. Don’t you dare look at me that way.¨

¨What way?¨

¨Like you want to fuck me.¨

The tension in the room grew stronger, his stupid eyes were having pleasure watching you being angry at him being with other girls. You’re really pretty too, he never took the time to realize that. Maybe it's your fault because of the grembling face you put when you’re around him.

Thank god Suguru came into the room giving you a way out of this situation, calling for Satoru and you.

¨Hey, we need both of you to help us with something back there, Utahime and Shoko are there also. Utahime is really nice, but uhh… she might gotten a little too much drunk…¨

"Do we have to bring her?¨ Gojo said, pointing back at you with his thumb, not even looking at you, just at Geto. ¨You know I hate her." 

¨Yes Satoru, it’s her friend who we are talking about.¨

"I'm standing right here, you know..." 

"I know." You were about to hit Satoru if it wasn’t that Geto didn’t grab the both of you by the wrist and started walking away.

After leaving a very drunk Utahime in Geto’s room, Shoko staying with her, the two other boys (Most like Geto) invited you to go for some midnight ice-cream around the corner, at which, you had nothing to do, so you accepted the offer, who wouldn’t want ice-cream for free?

The three of you got your ice-cream, you were with Satoru while Suguru was paying for them.

¨Your ice cream looks delicious, let me try.¨

¨We have the exact same ice cream, for god’s sake!¨ Satoru was faster than you and gave a big bite (with no teeth) to your ice-cream, you grumbled at his stubbornness.

¨Hey, no fair! You have more sprinkles than mine!¨ You looked up at his face, finding ice-cream all around his lips. Unconsciously your hand caressed his cheek and with your thumb, you wiped the ice-cream off his mouth. Your finger resting on his lower lip, he slightly opened his mouth giving enough space for your thumb to enter, which it did. His tongue swirled around it, savoring the ice-cream he stole from you. Your eyes never left his and vice versa. His cheeks were slightly pink, his eyes were now a darker shade of blue thanks to his dilated pupils.

His hands found a way to lock between your waist, making you get closer to him. Your thumb left his mouth and slowly got into his chest. He smiled at you. A genuine smile from him. Not an evil trace on it. His eyes squinted a little, which made you also smile. 

¨Can y’all believe the old man wanted me to pay for an extra ice-cream we didn’t buy? I stayed like 10 min more trying to explain him we only bought 3.¨

Your face turned pale, as fast as you could, you pushed yourself out of Gojo’s embrace, he awkwardly coughed fixing his hair.

¨Are you guys okay?¨ Suguru looked confused but then looked at you and your melted ice-cream.

¨Oh shit. It melted. Your eyes locked with Satoru for a moment and moved on to the melted ice-cream. Did that really happen?

A week passed and Gojo couldn’t get you off his mind. The moment replaying every day, the feeling of your hand on his cheek never leaving. He was going crazy. 

Ever since Utahime and Shoko got closer, that meant hanging out as a group. It somehow got better? Gojo stopped with the bitterness and the hate towards you, it turned more into teasing?, it’s like he’s been feeling cool with you?

 It even turned into the both of you teasing each-other light heartly, it was fun.

During a late-night study session at Shoko’s,  you and Gojo got into argument from some science topic, you could sense the others were annoyed at the unnecessary pause of studying, leading them into grabbing their phones to go through social media, going for water, or even just start making small drabbles of drawings, knowing they couldn’t do anything about the both of you arguing because of your stubbornness.

Until Utahime snapped, ¨Oh my god, can the both of you just fuck so the tension could leave?!¨ that left the both of you speechless and blankly looking at eachother, red invaded eachother’s face because of how things turned out and how others point of view of the type of relationship the two of you have.

...

... Your walk home was… awkward but nice?

¨Listen. It’s nearing midnight and you're a female walking the streets alone, at least let me walk you home? As much as you annoy me I’d rather you not get murdered¨ You take in his words slowly nodding in agreement as you cross your arms, ¨fine.. nice to hear that you don’t want me dead.¨

So that’s how the both of you ended walking together to your house. It was a weird bonding experience you didn’t think you needed.

¨Wow you can actually be a sweetheart this time, what happened to the boy who was arguing with me today is pluto is still considered a planet?¨

You say lightheartedly but turn to glare in his direction anyway, watching as he rubs the back of his neck with a chuckle.

¨Yeah that was pretty immature. to be fair we’re just as bad as each other ̈

You nodded in agreement it really is a game of back and forth trying to outdo each other. You felt a sudden wetness on your face sticking your hand out and watching as your palms filled with water capturing the rain droplets within, the rain poured without any mercy but thankfully you could see your house just a little down the street, with the nice moment you were having with Gojo you bravely grabbed his hand with a giggle making a bolt towards your house, to your surprise Gojo tightened his grip running beside you as the rain soaked you both.

Catching your breaths as you stood on your porch, sheltering yourselves from the rain, breathlessly laughing as you straightened yourself looking up at Gojo who was just as drenched.

¨Who saw that coming?¨ He smiles pulling lightly on your hand that still stayed secured in his, you were only inches away from each other but the cool breeze and crackling of the thunder held a mysterious mood that drew you into him.

In what should have been forbidden your lips touched, tasting the water that ran along your face seeping into your mouth as you reconnected with Gojo’s pretty lips, it didn’t last long as a large gust of wind interrupted causing you to shiver and unintentionally find comfort in Gojo, pressing against his chest. You could feel his hand rubbing gently against your upper back as he stared down calmly, you finally pulled away from him jiggling with your front door and popping it open with just a twist of your key, frowning your eyebrows slightly as you turn to look at the soaking wet boy again watching him turn towards the rain and stepping closer as if he was about to make a run for it.

¨You don’t have to leave.. it looks pretty hectic out there, i can dry your clothes and you can leave when it’s safer, if that’s what you want?¨ Gojo seemed conflicted a hint of hesitation could be seen but his expression was mostly unreadable, he took one last look out towards the street before turning on his heels, walking into your house with a smile, ¨That seems like a better idea.. thanks.¨

You really didn’t know what you were thinking letting Gojo into your house but it felt right, ¨Your... hoodie¨, you say holding your hand out towards him.¨I can put it in the dryer¨ Gojo paused for a moment looking down, his lips shaping into a straight line as his cheeks puffed out. ¨I’m not wearing an undershirt¨ You let out a light oh before making your way into the laundry room, ¨here! You can throw a towel over yourself if you feel uncomfortable!¨ You yell out to him, turning around to be greeted with Gojo’s bare chest, ¨It’s fine I don’t need a towel¨ He plainly says handing you his hoodie, you quickly nod taking it and heading over to the dryer.

¨What about my pants?¨ You hear him say as you open the lid. ¨What about them?¨ You question turning around to see his slightly wet jeans, ¨They’re not that wet but I can do them too.. got that towel?¨, Gojo let’s out a chuckle unzipping his jeans.

¨I’m not going to be naked, I do have underwear on after all, do you want me to wear a towel?¨ You went silent slowly extending your arm and making a gimme motion with your hand, ¨I don’t care it’s your decision¨, you say sounding a bit flustered, looking away nervously Gojo stripped himself of his jeans leaving him in his underwear. You throw his clothes into the dryer freezing suddenly before closing the lid, realising your own saturated clothes as you played with the hem of your shirt, “fuck it”, you whispered ripping your top from over your head, your pants following in hot pursuit letting them join in with Gojo’s clothes.

The dryer light blinked on watching as the session started not daring to turn around as you knew Gojo was still very much present, feeling a sense of embarrassment as you stood away from him semi nude, the only thing you didn’t know is that he was much closer than you thought feeling his hand smooth over your arm a slight tingling sensation could be felt as he pressed up against your bare back, ¨Aren’t you cold?¨, he said sliding his mouth near your ear, you slowly nodded feeling your words getting stuck in your throat, ¨I mean no, not really¨ You crackled out quickly correcting yourself, your whole body was heating up as the butterflies in your stomach did multiple backflips, ¨Well I am baby¨, you let out a rigid breath feeling your pussy contract within itself at the sudden nickname, you had no idea he could make you feel this way, ¨How are you gonna get warm?¨ You softly breathe out goosebumps arising from your skin as Gojo rubbed up and down your sides placing a few kisses against your neck, ¨I have an idea if you’d spread your legs a little?¨ You obeyed his words like a dog, running on your own horny adrenaline.

¨Are you okay with this?¨ You nodded, feelin his fingers come in contact with your pussy pushing your panties to the side as he swiped his pointer finger through your folds, he stopped clutching his hands roughly on your hips, his forehead laying on your shoulder blade.

¨How? You’re so wet, I barely even touches you.¨ Gojo said sensually pulling your hips towards him as he rubbed his hard against your ass, ¨I thought I’d have to do a little more but I think this is enough.. ready?¨

He kissed up your back adjusting himself a bit, ¨Ready?... for what?-¨, You struggled to say the last syllables as Gojo pushed the tip of his cock into you wrapping an arm around your waist and the other holding onto the dryer in front of you, pulling you upwards so he can angle your entrance just right so he can fully fit into you comfortably.

A gasp escaped you quickly holding onto the side of his thigh as he stayed still, the feeling of his long cock deep inside you made you wriggle pulling your heat away from him as he replants himself, the heat off Gojo’s chest and stomach burned into your back, ¨Now that’s warm¨, Gojo spoke, ¨And it’s tight too¨, He slightly giggled out resting his head on your shoulder.

¨Is it uncomfortable?¨ He quietly spoke in concernment Gojo’s worries fading as he finally feels you melting into him, ¨No it’s good¨ You say sheepishly feeling the slight shake of his arm as he continued to hold onto the dryer, another kiss being littered against your upper back upon hearing you.

It’s beyond weird getting this intimate with him but there always was some lingering sexual tension though. Nothing is really happening as you both stood in silence while Gojo kissed your body, leaving hickeys everywhere. Your body temperatures rising quickly but soon you started to feel Gojo’s movements, he awkwardly pumped himself into you stopping and starting his motions as he fought his urges, ¨Satoru?... If you’re going to fuck me just do it, this is nice and all but I know what we both want¨

You say trying to look at the boy who was still resting his head on your shoulder, you saw him perk up displaying a gummy like smile, ¨If that’s what you want who am I to deny you?¨

He jolted you forward banging you flat against the dryer giving you a sharp thrust as he grabbed a hold of your hair, bringing you back so he could kiss you, ¨You really want your enemy fucking you? Want everyone to know how of a cockslut you are? That Utahime was right? filthy.¨ 

You hum in pleasurable agreement a cheeky giggle escaping you as Gojo tilts your head to the side giving himself access to your neck, ¨Enemy? Do you really want to be calling yourself that when you started this? I think you’ve always wanted to do this, you love me¨ You say daringly, feeling incredibly unsatisfied as he pulled himself out of you spinning you around and finally coming face-to-face with him, Gojo’s hair now completely dry but nothing changed about his smirk.

¨You don’t need this” He unclips your bra way too easily wiggling it in front of your face like a trophy

“Don’t try putting this act on me, you’ve wanted my dick ever since you met me, those looks you don't give them to everyone.. probably why you love me so much ̈ You push him away playfully, covering your breasts and snatching your bra from him attempting to walk passed, Gojo re-attaches himself to you pulling you into a back hug as he kisses you roughly, biting your lower lip dragging slightly out making you whine.

“Don’t be stubborn, the laundry room is nice but why don’t you show me the bedroom?” You lean into him with a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you had every intention in bringing him to your bed, ¨Where do you think I’m taking you?¨

Nothing was stopping you, both fully naked in bed as Gojo’s face found refuge in between your legs licking up and down your slit and sucking on your sensitive clit, making infinity signs between them, holding your thighs apart to stop you from caging him in with each spasm of your body, “I’m gonna-“, you moaned out Gojo humming at your words removing his mouth from your heat and licking his two fingers as he dives them straight into your soaking pussy pumping in and out, “You’re gonna what?” He smirks, making a gesture of using his free hand to put on his ear to sign like he didn’t listen to you. Watching as you gasp at the sudden intrusion his smirk grew larger. ¨Oh! There! Satoru please I-¨

He stopped, smiling proudly and taking in your watery eyes, his smile soon turning into a sarcastic pout, ¨Aw, that’s cute¨ He laughed, pushing you flat against the bed as you leaned up to try and hit him, him being faster slapping your pussy.

¨Oh stop it! you’ll get what you want later slut, look what you’ve done to me¨ He looks down at his hard and angry cock begging for attention, rolling his fingers around his shaft as he covers his member in your juices.

¨Open your legs wider” Gojo hovers above you angling himself at your cunt, finally slipping back into your wet cunt, wasting no time in hammering into you giving you no chance in preparing for his speed, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck as he mercilessly rocks you back and forth but as Gojo lifted each of your legs up putting you into a mating press, which made the thrusters even go deeper inside you, turning you into a beautiful moaning mess.¨Ah! Look at you, you’re beautiful¨

Gojo groans out closing his eyes and throwing his head back in an attempt not to bust, picking up the pace as he fucks you raw diving his face into your neck as he concentrates feeling his heavy panting on your neck.

¨Don’t stop this time¨ You barely get out feeling your body getting to it’s highest point again, your back arching immediately as Gojo’s fingers had sneakily approached your clit rubbing your clit at lightning speed. You couldn’t breathe your legs spasming out and clenching around Gojo so hard he could barely move, your moans turning into a pleasurable scream as you reached your orgasm falling limp as you continued to pulsate around Gojo’s cock. 

He isn’t done yet. Taking in sharp breaths as he chases after his own high, you whine slightly from sensitivity but you weren’t going to stop him, thrusting a few more times till he pulls out in quickly, pumping himself in his hand as he aims his load on your stomach, moaning sweetly as he shoots his cum all over your lower half swiping his thumb over his head picking up some of the white substance and shoving it into your slightly agape mouth, ¨How does it taste sweetheart?¨ You start sucking his thumb without any hesitation making a loud popping sound as you pull his hand away.¨Delicious¨, you smile. 

With a satisfied chuckle Gojo collapsed onto your bed watching as he reached for anything to help clean yourself up with, ¨I don’t regret doing that you know…¨ He quickly says as he wiped up his mess, ¨I would’ve preferred if you cum somewhere a little less messy¨ You raised an eyebrow, ¨I meant having sex with you.. I’d do it again¨ You smiled, feeling the excitement run through you with just the thought of having sex with Gojo again ¨I’d like that too¨ He went a little quiet intensely watching you, getting closer to you, his lips crashed yours. This time it wasn’t rushed at all, he was moving his lips slowly, capturing every moment of it. Taking a small moment to breathe, he started kissing you again, then giving small pecks all around your face which made you giggle. He finally stopped with getting himself around your arms, cuddling you. 

He called out your name at which you just answered with a small sound out of tiredness. 

¨I think I love you.¨

[fruitsoxs]

can we get some jealousy blurbs for astarion and/or gale?

Of course!! I love a good jealousy blurb

pairings; astarion x reader , gale x reader warnings; none notes; I was pumped up about this request i did it within a day lol. also rolan mention because i love him

Astarion

When you’ve got a little tadpole in your head that could very well be the end of you, little things like jealousy should be the least of your worries. Yet, here Astarion stands with one arm crossed over the other, pouting at the scene in front of him. He watches as his partner frets over another man who seems to keep showing up on their journey. Of course he should’ve known Rolan would be here at this stupid magic store that Gale so desperately wanted to visit. Astarion had heard you talk about how the tiefling was planning on becoming an apprentice for Lorrokoan. Pity that the grand wizard had turned out to be such a massive asshole. Yes it’s horrible he was mistreating Rolan (Astarion could always sympathize with any poor soul who suffers at their master’s hands). However, that doesn’t warrant you leaning in so closely to the man to look at his bruises. It doesn’t mean you can smile so fondly at him-

It takes you laughing at something Rolan said while the man stares at you softly before Astarion has had enough. The vampire clears his throat rather loudly, grabbing everyone’s attention. Once you are looking at him he opens his mouth to say “Shouldn’t we get going? We’ve been in this dreaded place too long.” Your smile drops as you tilt their head, giving Astarion a confused look. Astarion simply looks away. He knows it’s petty, but he doesn’t care. Getting the hint, you nod. “I guess it’s time we get out of your hair Rolan.” you express.

Rolan's smile falters, but he nods in understanding. “I do have a lot of work to do now. Of course, if you should ever need my assistance, just call for me. I’ll lend my magic in any way that I can.” the magic user tells you. Astarion huffs and starts to walk away. He knows full well Rolan’s help would be useful, especially with the coming battle you must fight. Once again though, he doesn’t care. There’s something about this situation that has made him feel uncomfortable, and he’s quite mad about it. 

When you finally exit the massive building, Astarion’s anger subsides. He feels himself grow a little ashamed by his outburst. He wraps his arms around his chest and stops. You stop with him, locking onto his gaze with a sense of curiosity. The others have kept going, opting to give the two of you a little privacy.  

“Were you jealous? Of Rolan?” You ask seemingly humored by the entire ordeal. Astarion wants to deny it. After all, he’s never been one to care much about what you do- and who you do it with. Despite being in a romantic relationship with you, he doesn’t own you. He loves you, and he knows you love him. You’ve proved it time and time again. That should be enough. For some reason though, this situation has deeply upset him. “And what if I am?” he asks defensively, sending a glare that looks more like a pout. 

“I’ve never known you to be the jealous type.” You joke, smiling. When you notice the seriousness in Astarion’s eyes, your grin drops. “You’re serious?” you ask, inching closer. The vampire doesn’t need to say anything, his expression explains it all. You simply reach out and put your hand on his arm. You do it slowly, giving Astarion a chance to pull away if he wants. “Star…” you whisper, eyes meeting his. “You are the most important person in my life. Never forget I love you. So much.” 

He knows this, but hearing you say it makes his negative emotions melt away. “And besides, you don’t need to be jealous of Rolan. Yes, I worry about him- but we’ve saved him so many times it’s hard not to.” you sigh, shaking your head like a worried parent. A small smile makes its way onto Astarion’s lips. “Bad luck does seem to follow him.”

Gale

Gale has had a rough few months. After being ripped from his home, given a tadpole in his head, and forced to adventure with a bunch of …colorful people, he’s been craving one good thing. He didn’t expect that one good thing to be the fearless leader of his adventure party, you. Along the journey, you showed the man you had a great heart. Your habit of saving others, and doing the right thing made Gale swoon. He hadn’t expected to meet such an amazing person during such a trying time. Somewhere along the way, the wizard had fallen for you and your kind hearted nature. The only problem? Sometimes you were a bit too kind.

Gale’s smile fades as he watches a man strut his way over to you, confidence in every step. After finally making your way to Baldur’s Gate, your party had decided stopping at one of the taverns to grab a drink wasn’t such a bad idea. The circumstances may be dire, but taking a little time to relax is important. That’s how you ended up here, with a bunch of people following your tail. Gale had severely underestimated how many drunkards would have the guts to hit on someone like you. Now, his mind is swimming with that funny little green monster known as jealousy. 

“So, do you come here often?” The stranger asks you, leaning against the bar between you and Gale. Gale wishes just this once you would get angry, and react in a way unbecoming of you. Of course you don’t. You simply smile at the man and shake your head. “No. Not really.” you answer, aura radiating with kindness. “Well then, allow me to fund your next drink.” The man’s speech is slurred, clearly egged on by the alcohol in his system. 

Gale watches the scene on the other side of the man, his eyebrows lifted in a way that makes him look like a kicked dog. When you don’t deny the drink, Gale feels his chest grow tighter. The thing that made him fall for you, is the thing he hates most right now. He hates that feeling. After all, it’s his fault he has yet to confess his feelings. He finds himself turning away, glancing at his drink with uncertainty. What should he do? 

“Hey…maybe after this we could go out back-”

Gale snaps his head back over to the man. “No.” he says out loud cutting the man off. Suddenly fueled by anger, he stands up, walks over to you, takes your hand and begins to pull you away. You stumble along behind him, but don’t pull form his grasp. He leads you away from the confused man at the bar, and outside into the cold air. Once he stops, he turns to look at you. You don’t seem angry, just a little confused. 

“Is everything okay Gale?” you ask. You seem a little concerned, and it makes his heart twist.

“I- No. Everything is not okay. I just...I’m..” he groans, unable to fully express what he’s trying to say. He doesn’t want to confess like this. He wants it to be romantic, not awkward and uncomfortable. “I do not like watching people take advantage of your kindness.” He decides to say.

You smile at him, and squeeze his hand. The hand he forgot is holding yours. “Thank you Gale.” you mumble. You then lean forward, and before he knows it you’re pressing your lips against his cheek. “That’s very kind of you.”

His cheeks heat up, a dumb smile stretching across his lips. “Anything for you.”

[seeingivy]

never grow up 

satoru gojo x f!reader 

tsumiki’s first date doesn’t go so well.

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: megumi + tsumiki kiddos, mentions of heartbreak, reader says she wants to murder a child at one point, reader and gojo are soulmates, written for my girlies who are still waiting for love (I am the target audience)

an: my other gojo fic is personally victimizing me. like physically giving me pain in my soul its making me very mad. anyways here is a consolation prize (very old draft) while I try to revive that dumpster fire and not rip my hair out in the process. apologies to the gojo girlies im sorry :((( 

- 

You press down the ends of Tsumiki’s hair, setting her hair against the hairband that she had picked out. You feel her reach up, squeezing your hands as you give her hair one last spray lean down to press a kiss to the top of her head. 

She turns around, pressing herself against your legs as Satoru and Megumi walk in, leaning against the doorframe. They’re both irritated - not big fans of the whole ordeal. 

Tsumiki’s going on a date. 

Satoru was very adamant about it at first. Tsumiki can’t go on a date. She’s only thirteen and she has no business looking at boys, let alone going out with one. 

But she was just so excited, her tiny little eyes looking up into yours as she pleaded with you to convince him. So you did - his favorite dessert, a few kisses, and batting your pretty eyelashes until he gave in. And he always does. 

Megumi wasn’t one to exactly stop it per say, but he had made his opinions clear. He’s not a nice guy. Dates are stupid. Love isn’t real. You chalk it up to the fact that he’s a morbid nine year old. 

The three of you clump by the door as you watch her walk out the door, shooting you one last toothy smile before locking her fingers with the boy, Hiro she said his name was, and skipping down the walkway to where his parents were waiting. 

Megumi trails off immediately, running up to his room as you and Satoru watch the car drive away. He reaches over, locking his fingers with yours, as he cranes his neck out the doorway to watch the car disappear down the street. 

“She’s too young to go on a date, Y/N. What if he’s an idiot?”

You wrap your arms around him, squeezing his arms as he deflates against you. 

“They’re thirteen, Toru. I bet they’re just going to awkwardly hold hands during the movie and freak out about it. It’ll be fine.” 

“And what if something else happens and she comes home crying, love?” 

“She’s growing up. Stuff like that will happen. We just have to be here to catch her, that’s all.” 

 - 

You and Satoru are standing outside the movie theater, the rain pouring against the shade, as you wait for Tsumiki to leave the theater. She had texted you - two hours earlier than she was supposed to, much to Satoru’s dismay - and had said that she wanted to come home. 

And when she comes out, you know you made the wrong choice by letting her go. Because there she is, crying puddles like Satoru said she would. Her eyes are swollen, her cheeks tinted pink, and the look on her face is just about to make you cry. She looks heartbroken.

She holds her hand out to Satoru, the two of them walking off to the car as you trail behind the time. 

You feel horrible. You pushed her too hard, too early - letting your own past get caught up in what you were doing with Tsumiki. You remember it vividly. Pining in your room, saying no to dates because you knew your parents would never let you go. Getting stuck wondering about what could have been, how much love you lost out on just because someone stopped you. 

You didn’t want to do that to Tsumiki. Let her lose out on feeling special, having someone hand her flowers, and making her smile just because she was only thirteen. 

This is somehow worse. She’s only thirteen and she knows. The soul crushing feeling of someone not returning your feelings, thinking you’re weird, having love to hold onto that no one wants to return.  

The three of you return home, not having uttered a single word the entire ride home. Megumi was still over at Yuji’s, having ran over to his house across the street the second the two of you went to pick up Tsumiki. 

“Want me to go get him, Toru?” 

“Not yet, love. We have to talk to Miki first.” 

You press your hands against your sides, awkwardly ambling into the kitchen where she was sitting at the table. She had unwrapped the plate you had made her - that she was supposed to eat when she told you about how great her date was. Instead she looks deflated, pushing her fork across the sides as she picks out the smallest bites of food. 

You sit next to her and watch Satoru zip around the kitchen, placing items in front of you. Three spoons, strawberries, and the industrial tub of chocolate ice cream that Satoru bought against your protests. 

He leans forward, taking the plate in front of Tsumiki onto the side and pushing the ice cream in front of her. He hands the two of you spoons, taking the third, and opens the lid. 

“Alright Miki. Let’s talk, yeah?” 

“No.” 

She lowers her head, digging her spoon into the ice cream as you and Satoru stand at her sides. He leans over, slinging his arm around her shoulder as he gestures to you to do the same. You both lean your heads against hers, the three of you still digging into the ice cream. 

You’re not sure when she started, but when you look over, Tsumiki’s crying, her hold on both of your hands so tight you can feel the blood stopping. The three of you wordlessly eat the ice cream, until Satoru breaks the silence - nearly an hour later. 

“Want to talk about it now?’ 

“I just got sad. When we got there, he asked me if one of my friends liked anyone because he liked her. Not me.” 

You can feel the bitterness sticking in your throat - a heavy mix of guilt and anger. You never really understood child violence, but you think you’re starting to get it. Because why would he take her all the way there just to say that? Hold her hand on the pavement just to ask about her friend? You’re going to throttle him. 

“I just wanted someone to like me like you guys like each other.” 

You and Satoru look at each other over the top of her head, your heart squeezing in your chest at her words. 

“Someone will, Tsumiki. I promise, okay?” 

She crushes her hand in yours, nodding as she leans closer into you. You can see the gears in Satoru’s head moving as he looks over, shaking his head at you. 

“Can I tell you something, Tsumiki?’ 

She looks up at him, the two of you looking into his bright, blue eyes. 

“No one liked Y/N when she was younger.” 

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. He can’t be serious. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. She went months, years on end waiting for someone to like her back, you know?” 

“Thank you for the reminder, Satoru.” 

He ruffles the top of your hair as Tsumiki laughs, shaking his head at the two of you. 

“What I mean is, Y/N and I had to wait for each other. We didn’t get it right on the first try or even the third, fourth, or fifth try. Y/N dated guys who were mean to her, I dated girls who didn’t even really like me, and we both were really, really sad about it.” 

Now you get it. 

“I waited for Y/N. She didn’t just come around super easy, okay? You’ll have to wait for your Y/N too.” 

“Waiting for Satoru made it all the sweeter when I got to him, you know?” 

She looks up, a questioning look in her eyes as she angles her neck upwards. 

“The thing you’re waiting for is worth it. And you don’t have to worry about it not coming, because it will. And when it comes, you won’t even remember that you had ever waited, that you ever felt this way.” 

You and Satoru both watch her wipe her tears with the back of her hand, nodding as she gives the two of you one last hug and pads off to her room. You and Satoru stay in the kitchen, your hands locked together as you eat the tub of ice cream Satoru left out. 

You lean over, pressing your forehead against his shoulder as you groan. He places his free hand in your hair, soothing through the tangles at the ends of your hair. 

“What are you groaning, love?” 

“I should have just listened to you. She’s all sad now because I let her go.” 

“That’s not your fault. It was right to let her go now because it was bound to happen one day.” 

“I know that, Toru. I just…I don’t want her to grow up. I don’t think I really realized it before but people can hurt her. The bad way. And we can’t really protect her from that.” 

He lets go of the spoon, circling his hands around your face as he lifts your head up. He’s looking down at you, stupid blue eyes glimmering, as he gives you a soft smile. 

“She’s growing up. Stuff like that will happen. And she won’t be alone, because we’ll be there to catch her.” 

“Don’t quote me back to me dumbass. I hate you.” 

He laughs in response, leaning down to press soft kisses to your face - your forehead, cheeks, the tip of your nose. You shrug him off, pressing yourself against his shoulder again, his hand rubbing small circles into your side. 

“Thanks for waiting for me, Toru.” you whisper, leaning closer to him. 

“You’re so dramatic.” 

He leans down, pressing kisses all over your face till you’re smiling so big you have to push him off. He always does this - tickles, kisses, squishes you to death until you smile at him again. He stops, pulling you close again as you both swing your legs against the chair. 

“Thanks for waiting for me too, love.” 

 - 

You and Satoru drag Tsumiki and Megumi to the bookstore the next day, much to Megumi’s dismay. You tell Tsumiki that she can pick anything she wants out and that the two of you will buy it for her. 

She joins the two of you at the front, holding a laminated purple calendar in her hands. You crouch down, turning it over in your hands, as she looks at you. It’s a fifteen year calendar - which you didn’t even know they made. 

“You picked…a calendar?” 

“I want to count down the days. Till I find my you.” 

She skips off, entering the line as you and Satoru follow, your hands locked together. He squeezes your hands three times, giving you a soft smile, as you return his three squeezes. 

One squeeze for each word. I love you. 

- 

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

[sweetbonniebel]

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Seven

Daemon x reader, Rhaenyra x reader (platonic), Qoren Martell x reader

Synopsis: Rhaenyra's wedding takes place, y/n and her husband return to the capital.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

113 AC Sunspear

"Mother can I see Vermithor?" Derran asked as you held him in your arms.

"Perhaps on the morrow, I feel quite tired now." You answered kissing the top of his curly black hair.

"Because of baby?" He asked delicately patting your swollen belly.

"Yes my sweet boy... Where did you loose Aegon?" You asked, knowing that whenever Darren was Aegon was around.

"Eggie in lessons. Didn't interrupt." Your son mumbled playing with your silver hair.

"You did good, my love."

"What a sight to see." Qoren said entering your shared chambers. "Hello my love." He said and kneeled in front of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and to your son's forehead.

"Good morrow, Qoren." You answered.

"A letter arrived from the capitol." Your husband said and passed you the parchment, he took Darren into his arms and pressed kisses on his chubby cheeks. You read the letter carefully.

"Shall we prepare for travel?" You asked.

Rhaenyra's and Laenor's wedding has arrived.

"I would assume so."

"I love you." You murmured and pressed a kiss to your husbands lips.

"As I you. How is our little one doing?" He answered, caressing your cheek.

"Good, I would assume. I am tired without a reason." You answered rubbing your pregnant belly.

"She will be strong then, since she's taking yours."

"I would like a girl, it seems you do as well." You mused noticing that your husband oft referred to the babe as she.

"Could we name her after my grandmother? I think the name Arianne would suit her."

"And if it's a boy?" You questioned tangling your fingers in his curly, thick black hair.

"What do you think we should name our son?"

"I like Nymor, after Nymeria the warrior Queen."

"A fine name, princess." He looked fondly at your growing belly. Caressing the swell through your pale orange dress.

You were excited to go back to King's Landing, you missed your family terribly. After all it has been three years, six moons after your wedding you conceived and then bore a son, Derran. He was born strong, with violet eyes and black hair. Two years later you fell pregnant again.

You along with your son and Aegon would depart on dragon back. Nothing compared to the feeling of flying with your steed. Vermithor was not overly fond of the hot temperature of Dorne so he was excited to come back to the Crowlands.

Sunfyre was able to lift Aegon, and per his request he flew on his own, next to your mount. Vermithor took off, his wings threw shade at the city below. Derran was strapped to the saddle with leather belts while Nymor was tied to your chest.

The flight took a few hours, the bronze fury flew on his own remembering the path. Sunfyre flew circles the elder dragon. Vermithor screeched in dismay at the energetic young dragon. The bronze fury landed on the hills near the dragon pit, the dragon walked towards the gates to the caves he once called home. 

...

The streets were clean and decorated with Targaryen sigils, the wedding of the crown heir was a huge ordeal and rightfully so. You smiled as you saw the familiar red bricks of the place you grew up in.

Rhaenyra along with the rest of your family awaited your arrival in the courtyard. You stepped out of the carriage, the stench of the city invaded your nostrils.

"y/n!" Rhaenyra smiled and ran up to you, she engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. You smiled and hugged her back, you heard the little footsteps of Haelaena and Aemond. They hugged your skirts smiling and laughing as you caressed their silver locks.

"Sister it has been far too long." Viserys smiled, you approached your brother and smiled sadly at his condition. You placed a kiss on his cheek and bowed your head at Alicent. Ever since you started taking an interest in her children she could not stand you. Even though you have done nothing wrong she knew how much her children loved you.

"There is someone I would like you to meet, brother." You mused and walked into the carriage picking Derran into your arms. "Brother this is my son Derran."

"Adorable babe." Viserys mused picking up Derran into his arms. "He looks like our father. The same brows, nose and eyes."

"I will take your word for it, then." You answered, servants approached taking your belongings to the chambers that once belonged to you.

"Mother!" Derran whined in his uncles grasp.

"This is your uncle Viserys, Derran." You answered, Rhaenyra fawned over her cousin and took him into her arms, he giggled in delight.

Soon enough your child was taken away from you, and you were left with Daemon.

"Brother" You said, the man smiled and kissed your cheek pressing his forehead against yours.

"Sister" He answered, his violet eyes stopped at your pregnant belly. His large hand rested upon the top he smiled gently as he felt the babe kick. "What will you name it?"

"Nymor if it's a boy and Arianne if it's a girl." You answered in common tongue.

"Dornish names." He responded taking you by your arm, the two of you walked to the gardens.

"They will be princelings of house Martell, it is only fitting." You mused and leaned on Daemon's shoulder.

"Do you love him?" Your brother suddenly asked. You took a deep breath and glanced at his violet eyes.

"I do." You whispered, you could see the evident anger in his orbs. The happy atmosphere soon soured, not wishing to spend another moment like that, you departed for your chambers.

...

You awoke feeling the babe press itself onto your spine, you sighed leaning towards your sleeping husband. A small smile graced your lips, you pressed a kiss to his dark curly hair.

"Is it the babe?" Qoren mumbled still half asleep, you smiled caressing his naked back.

"Don't worry it is nothing." You mused and left your shared bed to the chamber pot. "Your child however presses itself against my spine and bladder."

Qoren laughed.

"Our child are they not?"

"Of course but only one of us has to carry it for nine months and then push it out of my body."

"That is true and I am eternally thankful for your sacrifice." Your husband mused kneeling in front of you and pressed his ear against your belly. "Hello little dragon." He said and pressed a kiss.

"Could we stay here longer? As much as I and Aegon enjoy Sunspear I do miss my home" You asked your husband.

"As you wish dear wife." He answered "With having a flying beast there come some perks." You laughed at his jest a comfortable silence falling between the two of you. Your body leaned into his as you laid comfortably on the bed.

"I love you." Qoren muttered into your silver hair, you looked up at him kissing the bridge of his nose.

"As I you."

...

Your maids tied the red and silver dress as the others combed through your long silver locks.

"How do you feel your highness?" One of your maids a young girl of only four and ten asked.

"It is bearable, Annora. Though I cannot wait once it's out of me." You mussed caressing the swell of your belly.

"It is good the pregnancy is at its end." Annora smiled and tied the knots of your sleeves. "I pray to the gods everyday for a safe delivery."

"Thank you my dear." You thanked the red haired girl. "Come now I intend to visit my niece."

...

You watched as the maids helped Rhaenyra put on her dress, when they moved towards her silver locks you interrupted.

"Please leave us." The maids bowed and left the two princesses alone. "I always did your hair, I will do so as long as we're together." You caressed Rhaenyra's cheek and begun to brush her hair. 

"Thank you, y/n" The princess of Dragonstone mused caressing your palm. "I missed you so much."

You answered back and braided her hair in comfortable silence, embedding rubies and obsidian into the hairstyle. A Valyrian song leaving your lips.

Ser Steffon and Ser Criston escorted the two of you to the great hall where the celebration for Rhaenyra's wedding took place. Ser Harrold announced the two princesses.  

You smiled as you noticed your husband already seated at the high table you took your place next to him as Rhaenyra sat next to her father. The guests begun arriving, ser Harrold announcing their presences. You chuckled quietly as lord Lannister embarassed himself in front of Rhaenyra and Viserys

"Lord Corlys of house Velaryon, lord of the tides and master of Driftmark and his lady wife Princess Rhaenys Targaryen and their son and heir Ser Laenor Velaryon the future king consort!" Ser Harrold announced the powerful house. All of them dressed in gold and teal, a true Valyrian house. You smiled as you saw them enter, the crowd applauded their arrival. They bowed before the high table. Rhaenyra abandoned her seat and met with Laenor half way.

"My bethroded." She smiled, Laenor kissed the palm of her hand and the court once again applauded. The Velaryon's took their place on Viserys's left side of the table. But the peaceful moment has been interrupted by Daemon making his appearance soon after the Velaryon's.

He strode proudly through the great hall, the crowd whispered at this sight. He smirked as he approached the high table, an extra chair placed on the tail end of the table.

"Be welcome, as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only it's beginning we honour the crown's oldest and fiercest ally, House Velaryon. Reaching back to the days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons with House Targaryen and House-" Viserys stopped his speech mid word, he intensely gazed at the entrance to the great hall. The crowds eyes soon followed.

Queen Alicent dressed in Hightower green has arrived. The courtiers stood up to honour her grace. You exchanged a look with your husband, the green beacon of Hightower you thought.

"Congratulations stepdaughter. What blessing this is for you." She spoke the new way that she addressed Rhaenyra did not go unnoticed.

"Please be seated." Viserys asked once Alicent took her seat. "With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dragons in Westeros." Viserys finished his speech the court applauded and banged their hands on the table cheering for his grace. "And after tonights small affair... Seven days of tournament and feasting. And at the end of it all, a royal wedding between my daughter, my heir, your future Queen and Ser Laenor Velaryon the heir to Driftmark." You clapped and smiled as Viserys confirmed Rhaenyra as heir.

The first dance was started by Rhaenyra and Laenor the two of them moved gracefully to the sound of music. An old Valyrian dance, to display the two houses origins. You watched with your husbands the two smiled and talked. Soon the rest of the courtiers decided to dance as is the custom in such celebrations. Alicent moved from the table to where house Hightower was sitting.

"Shall we dance, my dear?" Qoren proposed and you agreed taking his hand. From the corner of your eye you saw ser Gerald talk with Daemon. The tragic incident that befallen Rhea Royce was no accident. Laena skipped towards the dance floor and Daemon followed after her. The two seemed engaged in conversation, as your feet ached you walked to the table.

"Cousin I am so glad to see you in King's Landing." You said to Rhaenys.

"As am I. I believe congratulations are in order." She said and her husband Lord Corlys agreed.

"Thank you, it is rather tedious to be with child." You muttered and Rhaenys chuckled.

"It is, isn't it? I remember when I was pregnant with Laenor. I could not sleep for the death of me." Rhaenys told her memories.

Your pleasant conversation has been interrupted by various screams. You stood from your seat searching for Rhaenyra. She was carried by Ser Harwin breakbones. The crowd stilled and Ser Criston rose from the floor, his hands and armour bloody.

...

"The love of the seven is holy and eternal. The source of life and love. We stand here tonight in thanks and praise to join two souls as one." The septon spoke "Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows."

"I am yours and you are mine." Laenor spoke through tears "Whatever may come."

"I am yours and you are mine. Whatever may come." Rhaenyra held back her tears. You watched with sadness in your own your husband caressing your back in comfort.

"Here in the presence of gods and men, I proclaim Laenor of House Velaryon, Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, to be man and wife. One flesh, on heart, one soul now and forever." The high septon said the vows. Viserys fell to the ground, the crown of King Jaehaerys rolling on the stone floor.

...

"AHH!" You screeched crushing the bedpost with your hand as another contraction paralysed your body. Sweat drenched your cotton tunic, you could feel the anger and pain of your dragon. His roars shook the Red Keep.

"Princess-" One of the midwives approached your curled form.

"Don't touch me!" You seethed, baring your teeth. The servants watched as you suffered on your own.

"My wife! Where is my wife!?" Qoren burst into the room to see you scream and cry with pain. He stared in disbelief at the midwives who did nothing. "Why are you not helping the princess?!"

"S-She refuses our help." One of the maids whispered.

"Leave then!" He screamed and rushed to your side kneeling next to you. "My love, I'm here."

"Qoren..?" You asked absentmindedly "I can't-" You breathed, your face contorting in pain.

"Yes you can! You already did this once, our boy. He cannot be without you! I cannot be without you." Qoren cried as he helped you stand.

"Get it- Get it out of me." You pleaded leaning on your husband.

"No child should grow up without parents, remember?" He pleaded "Please, my love."

You stared up at his worried face, placing your palm against his cheek. You squatted taking your husbands hand the other leaned on the bed.

"Urghh!" You groaned and pushed, pushed and groaned. Qoren kneeled between you, his hands under your tunic helping you.

"The head..!" He whispered hopefully.

You placed your hand in between your legs to feel the babe make its way into the world. With a final push, it slid out of your body into your husbands arms. A loud cry pierced the silence that befallen the chamber.

"A boy" Your husband breathed in relief handing you the newborn, tears streamed down your cheeks. This time from happiness.

"Nymor, my son. Oh my sweet boy." You cried cradling the crying infant. One of the midwives walked in, helping you with the newborn. Swaddling him in cloth and cutting the cord.

"He's beautiful." Qoren mused pressing a kiss to your sweaty brow. The midwife placed him in your arms and you latched him to your breast. Wisps of blonde hair and eyes a light brown bordering on red.

...

The Grimm beginning of the union between Princess Rhaenyra and Lord Laenor became a subject of superstition. A bad omen for the future Queen and her royal Consort. But a fortnight after Princess y/n delivered a healthy son, lifting the sour mood.- From the dragon bringer by the feather and quill of Grand Maester Roland.

[babyjakes]

darling dangers.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinktober 2022

prompt | vibrator

pairings | mean!dark!best friend!ransom drysdale and soft!dark!best friend!jake jensen x innocent!reader

warnings | non/dub-con (reader is reluctant and resistant.) ran and jake are absolutely taking advantage of reader. ran is an asshole, jake is a little better. heavy humiliation, babying, dumbification, mocking and degradation. crying kink. ransom holds reader down. pussy slapping. forced fingering and use of vibrator. heavy clit focus. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. jake is doing most of the work, ransom's just there to be mean lol.

word count | 2,312

an | um oh my godddddd, ,,, this idea has been swirling around in my brain for so long and finally, finally i get to bring it to fruition >:-)) welcome to kinktober, whores <333 also sorry if this one feels awkward or rusty? i've been writing whump for the past month so getting back into the filth felt a little clumsy :-((

As soon as you see the small black box sitting out in the open on the counter between your two best friends, both of their faces drawn in expectant expressions as they stand just waiting for you to walk in on the perfect scene they've orchestrated- you know you're in deep, deep trouble.

Ransom's crossing his arms, a small smirk forming on his face when he sees how wide your eyes have gone. Jake's giving off more disappointment than amusement, which honestly hits deeper than the twisted pleasure his counterpart's apparently finding in the whole ordeal. Gulping as you take a step forward into the kitchen, your voice betrays you by trembling as you dare to speak up. "R-Ran? Jakey? What's going on?"

"You know, it's funny, princess. We've been wondering the same thing," Ransom jests as he places a steady hand on the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he pauses to glance at the blonde standing beside him. "Right, J? We never would've imagined our precious little angel- our sweet, innocent y/n- turning out to be such a whore."

Tears prickle in your eyes at the remark; bottom lip puffing out slightly in a pathetic frown, you shake your head in defense. "N-no, don't say that. S'not true."

"Aww, look at her, Jake. Think she's gonna cry already. Go on then, sweetheart. Know you can't help it, you've always been such a sensitive little thing."

Brow stiffening in anger, you glare at the brown-haired boy. "Stop it," you whisper through your hurt and confusion. Why are they doing this to you? They're your best friends, your Ran and Jakey. What would ever drive them to humiliate you like this? You would've never seen it coming. "Wh-why were you going through my mail, anyway? You have no right."

"Well, it helped that we were expecting the package," Jake finally breaks his silence, letting out a small sigh as he crosses his own arms. "An email popped up about your order status while I was helping you fix your phone last week. Couldn't believe it, our sweet y/n, ordering from a site like that. But it looks like there was no mistake here." Turning slightly, he reaches out to pick up the little box with a single hand. Eyeing the picture on the lid, his disappointment only seems to grow as he looks back at you, "Buggy, d'you even know what these are made for? You have no business buyin' something like this; you're much too little, y/n."

Cheeks burning at your friend's patronizing words, your eyes narrow further. "Of course I know what they're made for, Jake. I... I'm not stupid, I'm a big girl. I can order whatever the hell I want," you shot back.

At that, Ransom chuckles as Jake can only manage to shake his head in further disappointment. "A big girl, huh? We'll see about that, babycakes."

Everything happens so fast, you're barely able to process it. Before you know it, the pair have whisked you away to your bedroom, Ransom laughing cruelly as he carries you over his shoulder. In the blink of an eye, they have you surrounded on the plush duvet of your queen-sized bed, the brunette coming up behind you to trap you in his arms. As he leans back against the pile of pillows at the head of the bed, he brings you with him, pressing your back up against his broad chest as you squirm in haste. Jake approaches the two of you on his knees, the box with your new toy still clasped in his hand. Writhing a bit as Ransom tightens his grip on you, you finally find your voice. "What the fuck-? Let go of me, let me go! What are you doing? This is-"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Jake tells you sadly as your other friend eventually gets a good enough hold on you to overpower your resistance. "This is for your own good, y/n. You need'ta learn not to mess around with these things. It's not safe for a little girl like you."

"Learn? What do you mean?" you cry as Ransom's large hands come up to pry your knees apart, using his own strong legs to hold you open. As soon as you feel the cool air of the apartment hitting the thin layer of fabric covering your delicate mound, you freeze. Peering down with wide eyes, you see that your little tennis skirt has flipped up in the most unfortunate of ways, leaving your lacy pink panties on full display for everyone in the room's viewing pleasure. Heart pounding heavily in your chest, you clear your throat.

"R-Ran, Jakey... please..."

"We're not gonna hurt you, baby. Just gonna show you how dangerous these things can be, that's all. You're safe," Jake hums as he lays down on his tummy before you, scooting up between your widespread legs to come almost face-to-face with your now quivering core.

"Pink lace," Ransom snorts from behind you as his hands rest greedily on your inner thighs. "She really is a little slut, isn't she, J?"

Tears pool in your eyes as your cheeks burn in embarrassment. "P-please, please don't look," you beg, your tears earning a sympathetic frown from the blonde beneath you as he reaches out to run a tender hand over the lace of your panties.

"We're gonna be doin' a whole lot more than lookin', sweet thing," he admits as his fingers press against your dampness. "And would you look at that, someone's already gettin' wet." Squeezing out a few more tears as the man prods at your thinly-covered heat, you can only whimper in response.

"Doesn't surprise me. Bet she likes us being all rough, holding her down and spreading her open. You like that, sweetheart?" Ransom teases as he brings a hand up to cup one of your breasts over the flimsy yellow tank top you're wearing. "Never wears a bra around us, either. She's just asking to be played with." At the feeling of his cool hand slipping under your top to search for your beaded nipple, you cry out, straining against his wicked hold- but it's no use. Compared to Jake and Ransom, you're nothing in terms of size or strength. And now that they've got you where they want you, you're completely at their mercy. And you're not sure how much you can trust their promise of safety, not after all they've just done to you.

The meaner of the two laughs darkly as he finds one of the little knots of flesh, pinching and rolling it between his fingers as you cry softly to yourself. "Responsive little thing, isn't she?" he marvels as Jake takes to dealing with your panties; for a moment, he pushes them aside, but then after a few seconds of rethinking, he instead just decides to simply take the thin strip of fabric in his hands, pulling harshly until the band snaps apart completely.

"There we go," he murmurs as his eyes settle down on your dripping folds. "Such a pretty little pussy you've got, sunshine. It's a shame you didn't decide to share sooner."

Looking down over your shoulder to take his own peek, Ransom groans at the sight of your untouched petals. "Fuck, y/n. You've been keeping that all to yourself? Bet no one's ever done anything like this to you before. This your first time, princess?" Your words only continue to fail you as you lower your head in shame, your response giving the two boys all the answers they need. "Well too bad it has to be wasted on a punishment. Dumb little girl thought she could order a big girl toy- these things aren't made for you, baby. You're gonna realize that very quickly."

Pulling his hands away to fiddle with the box, Jake takes his time removing the little blue bullet from its packaging. The friends were smart enough to make sure to charge it before their little ambush, meaning they now have the benefit of its full battery life to spend on teaching you your little lesson. "Here it is," Jake hums, clicking it on carefully to the lowest speed. "Now sweetheart, I'm gonna give you one chance to get yourself outta this," he bargains.

That catches your attention. Raising your weary gaze to meet the blonde's soft set of eyes, you nod reluctantly. "I want you to show me and Ran exactly what you were gonna do with this thing. Want you to use it just like how you were planning when you bought it. And if you're honest with me- with us, and show us everything it was gonna do for you, we'll let you go."

Blinking, you take a moment to think. It's a good offer, you will admit, and he even seems genuine about keeping his end of the deal if you follow through with it. But there's a part of you that just can't bear the thought of demonstrating the crude acts you were intending on performing with the toy, at least not to your two best friends in the entire world. He left it unsaid, but it was implied: Jake wants you to make yourself cum for them. And you just can't do it, you know you can't. So you decide to do the only other thing you can think of: play stupid and pray they buy it.

Swallowing thickly, you nod. Shifting a little, Ransom releases one of your hands, still holding your breast hostage beneath his fingers, almost as an impending threat. Watching you carefully, Jake hands you the buzzing bullet, the strength of the toy's vibrations causing your hand to tingle ticklishly as you suck in a deep breath.

"Go ahead, cutie. Show us," Jake encourages.

Trying to keep your hand from shaking, you brace yourself as you bring the object down between your legs, searching a little to find your glistening hole. Squeezing your eyes shut, you push in, letting the low rumble of the vibrator settle into your core.

"Alright, that's enough," Ransom snaps, causing you to jump as Jake rips the toy from your heat and grasp. "Stupid fucking baby, that was a big mistake. Are you really too dumb to know where it goes? Or do you just want us to punish you?"

Shaking his head in disappointment, Jake sighs heavily. "Good girls don't lie, y/n," he states harshly as Ransom resecures both of your arms down against your back before reaching between your legs to land a few forceful slaps against your bare pussy.

You sob at the sting, gasping as his hand comes up to pull back the hood of your clit. "Give it to her, she was asking for it," he nods to Jake.

Turning up the toy a few clicks, the blonde focuses in his gaze on your little bundle of nerves as he gently collects some of your wetness on the twitching head of the tool before easing it up against your button, earning a strained gasp from you as your whole world's set on fire. The burning is unlike anything you've ever experienced, heat blooming in your core as you burst into more tears at the sensation. Shaking his head knowingly, Jake's voice is full of disappointment as he chastises you, "I gave you a chance, y/n, but you either lied to me, or you're just way dumber than I ever imagined."

"Look at all those tears," Ransom all but moans as he twists and pulls at your nipple, grinding subtly into your back as he holds you down for Jake's torment. "Keep it right on the head, pal- don't cut her any slack. What's the matter, sweetheart- huh? That too much for you? I thought you were a big girl who could handle big girl toys. Of course you're not," he laughs darkly, only egged on by the feeling of you writhing against him, "you're just a stupid little baby who needs to be taught a lesson."

"Think she's learning pretty quick," Jake comments as he practically drools at the sight of your wetness leaking out onto the bed beneath you. Using his free hand, he gently eases a finger into you, curling up gently to rub at your soft, spongey ceiling as your eyes roll back in horrific pain and pleasure.

"Please, please..." you're reduced to mere sobs as you feel the pressure of your orgasm building up more and more in your tummy. "Please, n-no-... wait-... stop-..."

"There it is. C'mon, baby. Cum for us, it's okay," Jake coos as he twirls the head of the bullet over your swollen clit. "That's it, there you go," he sighs with a small smile as you're forced over the edge, your back arching painfully as you squirt out onto his waiting hands.

"Fuck," Ransom curses from behind you, his cock bulging needily at the sight of you being forced to cum. "She's a fucking squirter, would'ya look at that. Better than anything I was dreaming of," he groans as your little toes twitch from the overstimulation, your sobs growing louder as you come down from your high.

"P-please, please, no more!" you hiccup, the continued vibrations against your now engorged button enough to bring you to your knees.

"You think she's learned her lesson, Ran?" Jake asks doubtfully, already knowing what the answer will be as he stretches you open to add a second finger before turning up the bullet another few notches.

"No, I don't think we're anywhere near finished," the brunette responds cruelly as he slaps his hand down a few times against your throbbing heat before pulling back on your lips again to spread you out once more. "She needs at least one more, maybe two. Gotta really show her how dangerous that little thing can be."

[baby-trapped-boywife]

I keep fantasizing about, now that I’m finally comfortably passing, starting to forget my weekly T shots. I hook up with my fwb, this older guy who lives alone in a rundown trailer park a little outside my city. Neither of us think about using protection bc we haven’t had an issue yet. Until I get knocked up. I never wanted to be a father and now I’m carrying the bastard of some fucking divorced drunk. And, yet, it feels oddly right.

We talk options and I make my choice, which is surprisingly our choice. My baby daddy says he wants us to parent our baby together. It’s unexpected, but we decide to make it official and move in together. There’s not an expectation of a relationship, we’ll just be roommates and parents to the child growing inside me. I didn’t think my life would go like this. Truth be told, I’m struggling in the early months of pregnancy. I feel dysphoric and resent having to delay my transition.

He treats me like a queen, though, and I leave my full time warehouse job to work part time as a receptionist at his brother’s garage. Me and my baby daddy start spending a lot more time together because of this and because of living together. I start to think I might be lucky.

As I get further along, I find it hard to find clothes that fit my growing curves. I’ve gotten fatter and my chest has gotten more sensitive. My hips are definitely wider. I decide to try dressing slightly more femininely, it will make the whole ordeal easier. Doctors and nurses are frequently asking me if I’m excited to be a mommy and most people I talk to at work think I’m a tomboy who smoked a few too packs before letting herself get knocked up by a greasy old drunk who hasn’t even given her a ring.

‘I must be stupid if I’m carrying this man’s three babies without a band on my finger,’ I think the week we find out I’m carrying triplets. It’s a blessing, especially considering I wasn’t even supposed to be fertile. Or, so I’d heard. Maybe it was the missed shots. I’d been Icarus flying too close to the sun, only instead I fall to my knees in front of my new fiancé that night with a big garish heart-shaped shimmery ring on my finger.

With me spending every possible moment with my fiancé in his bedroom, I move out of my room in our trailer and start converting it to a nursery. My hair is a cute bob and I’m really enjoying giving into playing my new role as trailer whore. It’s not really me, just a sorta drag performance I’ve decided to lean into for the duration of my pregnancy. My fiancé finds it hot: me in a pair of flip flops, Daisy Dukes, and a tank top with no binder or bra as I answer the rarely ringing shop phone. I sit on his lap when we host over his friends and don’t object to the idea of being his bride.

I end up in a chic boho-style flowy dress that shows off my swollen tits and baby bump. As my husband takes me as his wife for the first time, I feel something shift inside me. I wasn’t playing some caricature anymore. I was officially the wife of trailer trash and that made me trailer trash too. If this was my life now, then I was going to have fun with it.

I keep growing out my hair, dye it blonde like my husband says he wants, and stop wearing any undergarments. I’m kinda a feminist that way, by freeing the nipple. These days milk is often leaking through my tiny tops. I still get spray tans bc my salon lady says it’s okay and hubby likes when I look sun-kissed orange. Before I know it, I’ve got a tramp stamp and hubby’s name tattooed on my crotch. Both were done by one of hubby’s friends in our living room. I’ll get more once I finally give birth.

Weirdly, the sex gets better as I lean more into looking like my husband’s dream girl. I find that I want to be whatever he wants me to be. Knowing that I’m his forever and free from ever making a decision again. I love what he’s done to me, how he controls me in every way. My old life is completely erased. Getting knocked up was the best thing a misguided girl like me could have done.

I basically had the best life ever. My man was obsessed with me and always giving me gifts of cute clothes and jewelry, watching me paint my fingers and toes at work when it was quiet, contorted to reach around my massive baby bump. I always giggle when I notice him watching me from across the shop, my hubby’s such a horndog and I’m the luckiest bitch in the world.

[foliosriot]

The Rotten And Ugly

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

summary: you break up with noah without thinking about the consequences for either of you.

warnings: language. description of a panic attack. self-worth issues. mental health problems.

a/n: anyways this got angstier than i’d originally anticipated so uh enjoy the pain i’m about to serve you on a damaged and thrifted zoopals plate

masterlist

You hate how much he’s gotten under your skin over the years. The way he’s taken a variety of sharp objects and ruthlessly carved his name into your bones. In the intricacies of your veins there are markings that are nearly identical to his tattoos. You swear your hips and waist are permanently speckled with dark smudges, a repeating pattern that looks suspiciously like his fingerprints.

You’re still picking out pieces of him from yourself.

And yet, you were the one to end it. You were the one that told Noah you “can’t do this anymore”, whatever the hell that means. He asked as much, but you didn’t seem capable in giving him a straight answer. So you left the house battling against your instincts to run back to him.

But you were able to fight against them as you let yourself out the front door, leaving behind someone that has been a rock in your life for as long as you can remember. You left Noah standing in the living room, alone and confused. You fucking abandoned your self-proclaimed soulmate.

That was nearly a month ago.

After you left the boys’ house that day, you somehow convinced yourself that you were no longer hopelessly in love with Noah. You gaslit your own brain into believing your relationship — both platonic and romantic — was built on the fact that you were never good enough, that Noah took pity on you from the get-go.

It seemed to work. At first, that is. Because, before you altered your brain, you allowed yourself to wallow in your guilt and anxieties. For three consecutive days you bawled into your pillows, grimacing and crying even harder when the smell of Noah’s cologne met your nostrils. You were throwing yourself quite the pity party, and it was torturous.

But you were the one who was convinced that you never deserved Noah in the first place. You ended it, not him.

When those three days were up and gone, you managed to pull yourself together long enough to allow your best friend, Violet, to take you out for a girls’ night. It was something you needed — it was something that could distract you from your own head.

And the fact that it had worked was surprising. Maybe it worked too well.

At one of the handful of bars Violet had dragged you to you met Ryan. He was tall, lithe build and long limbs. His blackened hair was shorter on the sides, allowing the top to grow longer, thus falling into the beautiful hazel of his eyes. He had snow white skin but his flesh was divided up by swathes of colored ink that had nearly glowed under the neon lights. He’d donned an old Bullet For My Valentine t-shirt and black cargo pants.

Something about him had felt familiar to you. But you weren’t allowed anymore pondering over that inclination as Ryan had dragged you onto the dance floor.

It wouldn’t occur to you until a week later when you and Ryan were on your first official date. If it weren’t for the gauged ears, the round, rimless glasses, or the chunky gold rings, you would have thought he was somebody else. It was almost uncanny.

God, but you could have sworn…

You were wrong, however.

Ryan seemed to really like you, though. He had an eye for finer details and was a real sweetheart. He was obviously taking things slow with you, especially after you had accidentally dumped the story of what happened with Noah onto him over one too many shots of tequila. His genuine concern and sympathy over the entire ordeal had you fawning over him tenfold.

You and Ryan went on more dates since that night. Around him you were pushing down your self pity and replacing it with something you could have mistaken for happiness; you felt content around Ryan.

Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever.

It was nearing dusk when your apartment’s doorbell chimed. The sound startled you for a moment, but you relaxed as you headed for the door.

But there was Ryan, that smile of his you had anticipated on his face. You swallow down the chunk of disappointment.

“Hey,” you greeted him. You stepped aside to let him inside before gently clicking the door shut. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, sorry! I was gonna text you that I was coming over, but I thought I’d make it a surprise,” Ryan replies with a shrug.

You force a smile, hoping it came off, at least, partially genuine. “Oh, okay. Well, do you wanna watch a movie or something, then?” you asked.

“Sure.”

The two of you walk in to the living room in search of something to watch, be it a movie or a random episode of a TV show. You sit fairly close to each other on the small couch, a minimal amount of space between both your legs.

As you continue your hunt for your entertainment for the night, your anxiety begins to gradually rise. Your heart is thumping wildly and the palms of your hands are growing clammy and there’s a dull throbbing pain behind your left eye. Why is this happening? What the fuck is going on?

You don’t realize when you begin drawing in breaths in quicker succession, until your chest is seizing and you’re hyperventilating. The sound of Ryan’s concerned voice is muted from inside your skull, making you feel as if you were underwater. Tears are spilling down your face but you can’t find the strength to wipe them away.

Then you feel the vibrations of Ryan frantically speaking to you floating around your brain, and you’re not quite sure what he asked, but you manage to choke out one word.

Noah.

Everything became darker and blurrier after that. Time didn’t existence nor did anything around you. Your head was swimming and you couldn’t figure out where you were — if you were at home, if you were at work, with Noah.

Noah.

You think you hear the front door opening and slamming shut all of a sudden. But you aren’t quite sure anymore. This is the most violent panic attack you’ve ever had.

You jolt when there’s an unexpected hand carefully grasping yours. It must be Ryan.

His skin is frigid compared to the heat radiating from you. He begins gently running his thumb over your knuckles, a gesture that feels vaguely familiar.

The thing that finally brings you back to the present is the soft voice in your ear. At least you think it’s soft and gentle. Everything still sounds warbled, but there’s a distinct difference to this voice. You latch onto it and begin pulling yourself towards it in hopes of relinquishing the hold this panic attack has on you.

Darkness begins slinking away to reveal your living room. Your vision is blurry when you come to, but you blink away the tears that cling to your eyelashes, the action almost painful. You take a few moments to carefully and slowly gulp down several lungfuls of air before you turn to the body beside you.

But you aren’t met with the worried glaze in Ryan’s hazel eyes. Instead you see Noah next to you, his head angled down in your direction as he quietly sings.

Oh.

That’s how you were able to get through your panic attack. The only thing that has ever had that kind of power is Noah singing and holding your hand. He did it to let you know he was there the entire time, to provide something to keep you grounded to reality.

“Noah…”

Your voice comes out as a broken whisper. Noah immediately stops singing. His head shoots up. There is a frantic glint in his dark eyes as he searches your face for a moment before locking his gaze with yours.

“Baby, what happened?” he asks, one of his hands moving to your face. His palm is cool against your cheek, and you nearly shudder at the sensation of his calloused thumb gently stroking your cheekbone.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” you counter. You’re trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your heart when he called you baby. But it is much too difficult, especially when he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. Like you were worth looking at and cherishing. Your stomach churns mildly.

A muscle feathers under his skin when Noah clenches his jaw. He continues staring at you, save for the single glance he shoots up and to the left.

You hesitantly look over your shoulder, and there, standing just behind the couch with his hands clenching the cushions, is Ryan. The look on his face is tight but unreadable. You feel Noah’s hand lightly glide down until it rests against the side of your neck. Ryan’s eyes track the movement.

“What happened?” You ask Ryan the same question, hoping he gives you an answer. You’re trying to ignore the placement of Noah’s hand, but it is proving to be nowhere near easy.

It takes Ryan a few prolonged seconds to say anything. But when he does finally speak, he says, “We were trying to find a movie to watch, but then you tensed and started shaking. I tried talking to you and to get you to stop crying and hyperventilating. You weren’t responding and I was getting really fucking worried.”

Ryan pauses. He visibly swallows, then shifts his hazel gaze from the hand against your throat to your face. A flinch ripples through your body at the emotionless light in his eyes.

“You managed to say one word,” he continues. His tone is devoid of feeling, almost like he was trying not to show any emotion at all. “Noah. And I automatically knew who you were talking about. So, because I was desperate as shit, I got your phone unlocked and found his contact you kept for some reason. I called him and, well, here he is.”

Ryan looks down at the floor beneath him. Your heart is speeding up once more, and Noah seems to have noticed because he presses his index finger into the pulse point beneath the hinge of your jaw. The pressure is ginger at best, but it somehow manages to keep you from going in to hysterics once more.

You look back at Noah to see him already watching you closely. Your breath hitches slightly when you notice the familiar loving shine in his irises. God, you have missed him so much.

Noah has one knee bent and resting on the couch, with the other dangling over the edge. Over the course of the attack you had crumpled into a ball — a familiar aspect of these things for you — and Noah had managed to peel away your arms from where they had wrapped around your legs like a vise. He had entered your personal bubble in hopes of helping you. One hand of his hands still held yours with a secure grip.

You felt an overwhelming need to wrap Noah up in a thankful, loving hug. But you still felt Ryan’s presence.

Mulling over your decision in your head kept the room silent. It took longer than you would have wanted, but you knew it was a necessary one to make in the first place.

“Ryan.” You shift just enough to face Ryan more directly. He lifts his head as you force your arm to move. You slowly reach for one of his hands, gathering the strength to talk. “Thank you for being here. It means so much to me.”

Ryan doesn’t say anything initially. First, he rakes his gaze over to Noah, a glare overcoming him.

“I didn’t do anything, Y/N,” he bites out. “All I did was call the ex.”

You feel Noah tense, but he doesn’t speak.

“I’m gonna leave now,” Ryan says, finally stepping away from the couch. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.”

As Ryan heads for the door, you call out, “I’ll call you.”

With his hand already on the doorknob, Ryan stops to look at you. His gaze softens as you make eye contact.

“No. Don’t worry about it,” he tells you. His words are quiet and tinged with a tense of sadness. He gives you a small smile. “This was really nice. I’ll see you around.”

Then Ryan is gone.

And you’re alone with Noah.

Silence sits over you like a weighted blanket. Sitting in the dead quiet with Noah has always been relaxing and comfortable, because there would be times you would lay your head down on his chest and listen to his steady heartbeat. At times like those neither of you had any responsibilities or stresses. You simply existed together in your own little world.

But there is an underlying tension this time around. You’re still angled towards the front door and you can feel Noah watching you. His pinky brushes your collarbone, and it takes all of your remaining strength to suppress a shiver.

Then Noah’s hand slips from your neck, and you can’t help but miss the sudden vacancy.

“Y/N. Can we talk about this?”

Noah’s voice is quiet. His soft tone is tainted with something akin to anger, but you can’t be sure. Maybe it’s sadness or confusion. Either way, you turn your head towards him.

Strands of his dark hair are dangling in front of his face. There’s an unidentifiable glint in his eyes that has your heart stuttering. You suddenly have a desire to reach forward and touch the tattoos on his hands and neck, everything else covered in black clothing. And you think you’re successful at resisting that feeling, when you’ve slowly counted to ten in your head. But you can never rein yourself in very well when it comes to Noah.

You turn to fully face him. He watches your every move with a confused air about him. His body stills completely when you finally stretch your arm out, your fingertips brushing the red apple at his throat. You swear he shivers slightly when your fingernails graze his inked skin.

Noah lets you touch his tattoos without a word or twitch of a muscle. With every movement you make he watches you like a hawk, like he’s going to tear you limb from limb at any moment. You have done this countless times over the years, but something about this time feels different.

This goes on for only a few short minutes. Until Noah grasps your wrists and gently pushes your arms away from him. He keeps his hold on you.

“Y/N.”

Your throat constricts slightly in apparent preparation to cry once more. But you swallow thickly as you manage to meet his eye.

“Noah.”

He tightens his jaw. He lowers his eyebrows slightly as he considers you and your slightly patronizing reply of his name.

“We’re gonna talk about this,” he tells you. “Right now. Whether you like it or not. We need to talk.”

And he’s right, you know he is. Though you don’t know how this is going to go.

You shakily take a deep breath anyways. You nod once, gesturing as best as you can despite your momentary shackles for Noah to speak.

“Why? Why did you break up with me?” Oh god, you’re hoping he didn’t feel your pulse spike at his question. “I mean, you gave me a reason, but we both know it was kinda bullshit. You didn’t tell me the truth. So can you tell me the truth now?”

Fuck. You can’t do this.

I’m sorry, Noah. But I can’t do this anymore.

There’s a pulsing behind your eye. Your head is pounding and your cheeks are tear-stained. And you would be an even bigger liar if you restated what you said that night. ‘Cause by the fucking gods above, you were all in from the beginning. You knew you were in love with Noah a long time before you actually started dating. You have been by his side through the worst years of his life, and he has been there for yours.

You have missed him more than anything this past month. Even while hanging out with Ryan something felt off. Your brain was too hung up on Noah to even fathom forgetting him or replacing him.

So what’s the point of hiding anything else from Noah, since he has seen and witnessed every dark and ugly and rotten thing you hold inside? He saw all the bad and evil that reside deep, deep down and still chose to stay.

But you have been broken for a long time, even considering how much Noah has helped you. There is something damaged beyond repair within. You’re not sure if it’s worth keeping anyone around anymore in order to try and fix it. It seems pointless, really.

Noah is still watching you. His hands are firm around your wrists as he waits for your answer.

“I’ve never been good enough for you,” you finally say, and it feels like a weight is lifted from your chest. “You how damaged I am. You have seen all of the shit that keeps me up at night and you’ve experienced firsthand how violent my panic attacks are. Why the fuck did you stay? You’re Noah fucking Sebastian. Lead singer of a successful metal-core band, who could have anyone he wants. And you chose me? I guess I just don’t see why.

“I’m not worth the hassle or worry. Everyone wastes their time with me. I’m not getting better — I can’t get better! So I removed the variable that was the issue. I removed the problem so you wouldn’t have to. I willingly took the swan dive, ‘cause sooner or later I was gonna self-destruct. I’m a fucking time-bomb, and you know it.”

Throughout your explanation Noah stared at you. He had made no attempts to interject or talk down on your feelings. He listened intently, and your heart aches.

But you can’t take the staring any longer. You wrench your hands away from Noah and stand from the couch. You wobble on your feet for a moment before you regain your balance, shuffling to the other side of the living room.

You turn to look at Noah to see him slumped against the back couch cushions. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are still tracking you. Both feet are planted on the carpet.

“Would you stop looking at me like that?” you demand. “Like—Like I’m being irrational. Or, like—“

“Like I actually care about you?”

You fall silent at Noah’s interruption. His face is nearly expressionless, but you detect the minuscule frown on his lips.

“I’m not gonna stop caring about you, Y/N,” Noah continues, his voice low. You think he may be angry. “It’s not something I’m interested in doing. Because, yeah, I’ve seen all of the fucked up shit inside of you, but you’ve also seen it from me. You chose to stay too, right? So why would I want someone who doesn’t harbor a little bit of pain or agony? That makes you human, and that makes you you. ‘Cause believe me when I say that I am in love with you. Baggage and everything. But I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Tears had begun falling from your eyes again. Your lips trembled slightly at Noah’s declaration. Your body was shaking.

You watch as Noah gets to his feet. You can’t help but fold your arms around your torso as he slowly approaches you. The blood pumping through your veins and roaring in your ears is deafening.

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you.”

Noah pauses a few paces away at your words. He meets your eye for just a moment before you’re locking your gaze onto the floor.

“Okay. Then don’t promise. I don’t care if you hurt me, ‘cause I’m gonna stay either way.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“What if…” You sniffle as you tighten your hold on yourself. “What if I don’t want you to stay?”

“That’s not happening.”

“Noah, I—“

Noah takes the steps forward to reach you. “The only reason you don’t want me to stay is so you can convince yourself everything was your fault,” he told you. His voice is still low in pitch and peppered with a certain hardness. “I’m not gonna let that happen. None of this is your fault.”

Your instincts are screaming at you to fall into Noah. Every inch of your body is berating you to let this all go and let Noah back in. You both need each other, you know that. So why is this so goddamn hard?

His words hang in the air like a heavy fog. Your vision is blurry from tears. Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest. This has to end.

“Get out.”

Noah recoils a fraction at your unexpected statement. “What?”

“I said get out. I made my decision, and you need to respect that.”

“I’m not leaving.”

More tears cascade down your face. Every single one feels like acid eating away at your skin as you raise your head to look Noah in the eye.

“I’m not going to ask you again, Noah.”

Noah doesn’t protest. But you can see the tears in his eyes as he eventually backs away and goes for the front door. You’re shaking uncontrollably as you watch him open the door, chance a glance back at you, then leave. He gently shuts it behind him.

A void opens up in your chest. It yawns wide, a blackened abyss growing bigger and bigger inside of you, threatening to consume your soul.

God, what the fuck have you done? You are so in love with him, and you just let him leave like that. You can’t even begin to believe that you’re this fucking stupid.

But Noah left because he loves you. And that makes the tears fall harder and faster.

You can’t imagine a life where he isn’t there. Frankly, you don’t want to imagine such a life. In every past, present and future you have ever conjured up in your head, Noah has always been there. And you just ruined any chance of fulfilling a better future for both of you.

This can’t happen.

You’re not going to let this happen.

Without thinking you dash for the door and fling it open. At the other end of the fairly short hallway, near the elevator, is Noah. His head is hung and he’s holding his phone. You can’t see his face clearly, but there’s a foreign rigidness to his body that you wish you never have to see again.

“Noah!”

And at first Noah doesn’t react. Then he’s twisting his neck to look your way. The sight of you has him straightening his posture and sliding his phone back in to his pocket. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, a certain anxiety about him that hurts your heart.

Then you let out a loud sob, and Noah is racing for you without hesitation. He gathers you in his arms before your body crumples to the floor. You latch your fingers onto the fabric of his shirt as you cry against his shoulder. One of his arms is fastened around your abdomen while the other is along your shoulders, that hand slipping through your locks of hair and carelessly gripping at the roots.

“I’m sorry,” you sob against his body. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. God, I’m so stupid. I am so sorry—“

Noah cuts you off. “No, Y/N, do not apologize,” he tells you, his own voice thick with tears. “You’re not stupid, either. You were trying to do the right thing for you, and that’s okay. Never apologize for that. Okay?”

You manage to nod once. Then he’s carrying you back into your apartment in the direction of your room. He carefully sets you down on your bed and immediately joins you. There’s blankets around you and Noah is holding you tightly.

You bury your face in his neck with your arms coiled around his shoulders. His arms hold you against him, his head resting beside yours on the pillows.

The pillows were beginning to lose the smell of Noah’s cologne. You were worried they would have trapped the scent of Ryan instead over the past couple weeks, but all you feel is Noah. Every sense is overwhelmed by him and his presence. The feeling of his body against yours feels like coming home once and for all.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (11) - A BG3 G/t fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1 | Previous chapter| Next chapter | Series master list

Summary: Astarion devises a plan to find Ria, while Ria herself ventures into the depths of the Goblin Camp to track down Minthara.

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: Dehumanisation, LOTS OF FEARPLAY, swearing/course language, threats of violence, violence, blood, gore. Ria is treated awfully, bearing in mind Minthara is under the influence of the Absolute here.

Word count: 5.1k

All Astarion could do was watch helplessly as the tiny borrower disappeared into the hole in the wall to the Goblin Camp, his fingers only managing to brush through her auburn hair moments before she vanished into the wall. His face tightened as he gritted his teeth in frustration, and stretched back up to his full height. A flicker of guilt bloomed in his chest as he processed the situation. Ria had run away from him because of what he had just put her through, and there was no doubt that the whole ordeal had resurfaced some unpleasant memories for her from when they had first met. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling guilty, but the feeling refused to leave him.

His tongue swirled around in his jaw, feeling what remained of her taste in his mouth, along with the taste of his own blood from where she had stabbed him repeatedly. He couldn’t deny it, but she had tasted delicious on his tongue, and he immediately felt a pang in his stomach reminding him of his insatiable hunger. It would’ve been so easy for him to swallow her right then and there, and a large part of him had been incredibly tempted to do just that, but he had resisted. While he would never admit it out loud, a small part of him was beginning to grow rather fond of the borrower.

Gods, the tadpole must’ve eaten a hole in my brain for me to be feeling like this about a borrower of all creatures.

He could only hope that Ria would be smart enough to stick to the shadows and hide, or at least hide long enough until he found her. He hated to think what Lae’zel would do to him if she found out that her tiny apprentice had been killed in the Goblin Camp because he had brought her there. Not to mention Ria was completely unarmed, her only weapon stubbornly lodged inside his mouth. Running his tongue along his teeth, he soon felt the small handle of Ria’s dagger near the back of his throat. The weapon was stuck in the flesh of his gums, giving him a piercing pain in his jaw. Grunting in frustration, he attempted to manoeuvre the blade with his tongue, but the blade refused to budge. If only he could look in a mirror, he would probably have better luck removing it, although that was certainly not an option with his affliction.

“A-ha! There you are!”

Astarion turned on his heel to see the familiar face of the wizard, his eyes scanning the vampire spawn up and down as he tried to make sense of what he had just walked in on.

“Care to explain what you’re doing Astarion?” Gale asked, his brows furrowing.

“Nothing that concerns you Gale,” Astarion retorted, swallowing the gathering pool of saliva down his throat, along with the last remaining taste of the borrower in his mouth.  

Gale arched one eyebrow at Astarion, clearly not completely convinced.

“I saw you were acting rather strange around the goblins,” Gale remarked. “I didn’t see the whole event that transpired, but what happened exactly?”

A flicker of panic stirred in his chest as the wizard probed him for questions. It was fine, Gale had no idea that Ria was even here, or that she had become all too familiar with his mouth against her will. But even still, he knew the wizard was the sharpest out of everyone in his little group. He had to make sure that Gale wouldn’t detect anything suspicious.

“Oh, the goblins?” Astarion chuckled. “They insisted that I try some of their wretched beer. Of course I obliged them, I didn’t want to seem rude. It was positively foul, mind you. I would not recommend it.”

“Note taken,” Gale replied. “I suppose you can tell Karlach that later, she seemed ecstatic to try some.” The wizard paused, his gaze flicking over Astarion’s mouth for a moment. “Do you have something stuck in your teeth?”

Astarion’s eyes widened. “N-no, of course not! Why would there be?” He cleared his throat. “It’s not like I eat solid food.”

Gale pursued his lips, his brows knitting together as he eyed up the vampire spawn.

“Alright then,” Gale said after what felt like years. “We’re going to head inside the Goblin Camp now. Wyll and Karlach are already waiting inside.”

“Right,” Astarion replied, an idea hatching in his brain. “Why don’t you three go ahead, I’ll catch up in my own time. I might investigate to see if the goblins have any loot worth taking.”

Gale wetted his lips, mulling over Astarion’s suggestion.

“Hmm…okay. Are you sure you want to do that? It’s probably best if we stick together.”

“Trust me, Gale, I can meld into the shadows a lot better without having to worry about the three of you,” Astarion said. “I’ll catch up with you later. Besides, we’d be able to cover more ground if we split up.”

If I can leave the group, then I can find Ria by myself, and they won’t have to know a thing, he thought to himself, hoping that Gale would agree to his idea.

“I suppose that is a fair point,” Gale answered. “Just make sure to let us know if you happen to come across the druid. We need to get him out if we want to have any hope of resolving the conflict in the grove.”

“Absolutely,” Astarion replied with a sly smile. Good. Gale had bought it. Now he had a chance of finding Ria, hopefully before Minthara did.

***

Darkness soon smothered Ria’s body as she scrambled through the small opening in the wall, she could still hear Astarion’s voice shouting her name from the outside but she did not pay him any mind. Despite his attempt at drying her, her body was still damp and cold from his saliva, which made her shiver as she ran through the entrance. Forcing back more tears, she darted through the dark as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. She could see that she was inside the walls of the main building of the Goblin Camp, stone surrounding every inch and corner with no visible end in sight. At this point, she didn’t really care where she ended up, all that mattered was that she got as far away from Astarion as much as possible. She continued to race forward, her breathing ragged and heavy, until she saw a glowing orb of light up ahead.

A way out.

Clambering with every ounce of energy left in her body, she forced herself onwards until she reached the end of the tunnel. She tentatively poked her head out of the opening and held her breath. She was in the interior of the Goblin Camp, the stone walls seemed to stretch on forever as she gazed upwards and shuddered at the gruesome décor. Bones were strung high across the walls and pillars, illuminated dimly by flickering candlelight. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her nostrils and she had to force herself not to gag or make any noise in fear of outing herself. The walls were cold and clammy to the touch, and mingled in with the scent of burning flesh, she could detect traces of old blood present on the stone. Rumbling footsteps of the goblins vibrated through her skeleton and she stiffened as large feet walked right across from her. Fortunately, they didn’t see her as they stomped on, completely oblivious to the tiny borrower infiltrating their camp.

“Praise the Absolute!” The goblins chanted, throwing their fists in the air as they marched further into the building.

What in the hells is the Absolute?

Ria had heard this word uttered a few times by some of the goblins, but she still had no idea what it meant. Was it a cult or following of some kind? She had no idea, but whatever it was, it certainly couldn’t be any good.

I need to find Minthara.

Her original goal resurfaced in her brain, reminding her of the task at hand and her whole reason for coming to this awful place to begin with. She needed to find Minthara and fast, before she was spotted by any of the goblins there. She quietly snuck outside of the hole in the wall and moved down the interior of the building, clinging to the walls and doing her best to meld into the shadows. She managed to pass by multiple goblin guards completely unseen, not one of them so much as glancing down in her direction. Thanks to her diminutive size, being dunked in alcohol, and, much to her distaste, Astarion’s saliva, the goblins acted as if she didn’t exist and allowed her to slip into the frays of the camp.

Gingerly, she sniffed her skin and almost recoiled as the pungent smell of alcohol filled her nostrils, not to mention the metallic scent of blood mixed in which almost made her nauseous. As much as she hated to admit it, perhaps being swirled around inside Astarion’s mouth hadn’t been all for waste as she smelled nothing like her usual self.

As much as I hate this, at least this means that the goblins won’t notice me, she thought bitterly to herself, longing for nothing more than a nice warm soak to scrub away the scent of blood and beer out of her skin, and the remaining traces of Astarion’s saliva.

As she ventured further into the inner dwellings of the camp, she realised that she had utterly no idea where Minthara was, or what she even looked like. As the realisation dawned on her, more thunderous footsteps shook the ground violently and she quickly pressed her back against a wall and held her breath.

Gods, this was not a good idea…why did I ever think this was a good idea?

“Our ladyship Minthara wishes to speak with you,” One of the goblins that walked past Ria grumbled, pointing at a different goblin with a brown hood over his head. “She said somethin’ about your scouting party not returnin’ yet.”

The goblin with the hood visibly stiffened, fear flickering across his eyes. “O-oh, right, thanks for that. I will go see her ladyship immediately.”

This was her chance. If she followed the hooded goblin, she would find Minthara. Once the coast was clear, she lunged forward to the hooded goblin and grasped onto his leather boots. As she clung on for dear life, she forced herself not to gasp as the goblin began to move, completely oblivious to the tiny hitchhiker on his shoes. The movement was staggering and her vision quickly became a blurred mess as the goblin stepped forward. Everything moved at such a frightening rate and it caused her stomach to lurch with each thundering footfall that the goblin took, sending rattling vibrations throughout her entire body as his foot collided with the stone floor. She hoped that the goblin didn’t have to walk far to reach Minthara, she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take without emptying the contents of her stomach.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait too long for the goblin to reach his destination. He finally stopped moving, his feet now at a standstill, which allowed Ria to catch her breath and force herself not to hurl. Her vision was blurry due to moving around on the goblin’s boot, and she couldn’t quite make out where she was as everything was spinning around her. While she couldn’t see very well currently, she could hear some loud voices coming from above.

“Your scouting party has not returned, and half of the intruders escaped your guards!” A raspy, feminine voice punctured through Ria’s eardrums as she clung to the goblin’s boot.

Is that Minthara?

“Sorry, Mistress,” the goblin replied. “We mucked up.”

Ria’s head had finally stopped spinning, and she quickly jumped off the goblin’s boot and dashed behind one of the many war drums that were scattered around the room. Chest heaving, she anxiously glanced upwards and saw a female drow looming over the hooded goblin, her face cold and full of rage.

That’s Minthara.

“Until their sanctuary is found, I will take something precious from you every hour that passes,” Minthara continued, her gaze as cold as ice as she glared at the goblin before her. “A trinket…a tongue…a limb.” Minthara said the final word with such an intensity it sent chills up Ria’s spine, and she was quickly starting to regret her decision for coming here by herself.

No, I’m here now, I must go through with this, she thought to herself, shaking away her clouded thoughts of doubt and returned her attention back to the goblin and the drow. She decided it was best to remain hidden for the time being, or at least until Minthara had cooled off.

“I ain’t no use without me limbs,” the goblin quickly retorted, his frame shrinking back as the drow leered over him threateningly. “The lads’ll make the prisoners squeal soon enough; I swear!”

“Silence now, creature. Or I will silence you forever.” Minthara’s words were scathing, and the goblin flinched back in fear as she glowered at him fiercely.

“Be gone, unless you want me to start removing those limbs of yours,” the drow hissed.

“Y-yes, of course your ladyship.” The goblin frantically hurried out of room, his footsteps sending off small tremors throughout the ground as he scrambled away.

Minthara heaved a rather exasperated sigh, massaging her fingers across her temple.

“If only I had been given drow warriors not pathetic goblin trash,” Minthara muttered under her breath, her lips pressing into a thin line as she sat down on a nearby chair and hunched over a stone table.

A moment of silence passed, Minthara seemingly absorbed in the parchment of paper that was on top of the table, and Ria steadied her breathing as she tried to think of what to do next. How in the hells was she meant to approach the drow? And if she did, just what exactly was she going to say? How would Minthara even react to her? Minthara certainly didn’t strike her as a kind person, and she hated to think how she would react to finding a borrower sneaking through the camp. A sinking feeling of dread began to fester in the pit of her stomach as she realised just how stupid she was for coming here alone. In the heat of the moment, she had abandoned all logic, only thinking about how far away she wanted to get away from Astarion. But in doing so, she had placed herself in an incredibly dangerous situation. Now she wasn’t sure how she was going to proceed. At least her scent was disguised for the time being, so perhaps there was a way she could leave the room undetected.

Gods, why did I leave Astarion?! He was my only protection!

She chewed on her bottom lip in frustration and scanned the room intently. There had to be some small crack in the wall that she could slip into, or some kind of hole she could hide in for the time being until she could think of a better solution. In her current spot behind the war drum, she was too exposed, it wouldn’t take much for a goblin or the drow to glance down and find her there. She had to get out of there quickly, before Minthara finished whatever she was drawing up on the stone table and looked in her direction. In the corner of her eye, Ria suddenly spotted a small crack in the wall, big enough that she would be able to fit into it without a problem. The only thing was, it meant that she would have to pass under Minthara’s table to reach it.

Ria inhaled a rather shaky breath as beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. She could do this. Passing by larger folk was something all borrowers were good at to survive, but she knew if she messed this up, it could mean dire consequences for her. She had to be perfectly quiet if she wanted to get out of the Goblin Camp alive. Without a second more of hesitation, she sprinted towards the stone table and quickly dashed underneath it. Minthara didn’t move a muscle, completely unaware of the tiny borrower that was currently right under her nose. Swallowing back the fear forming in her throat, she sneaked around Minthara’s metallic boots, being extremely careful not to accidentally bump into them. Her exit out of the camp was rapidly getting closer with each tiny footstep that she took, still being extremely careful, and her blood pounded harshly in her eardrums.

That’s it…just keep on going.

The scraping sound of metal against stone filled her eardrums, snapping her neck to look over her shoulder to see what the noise was, and a scream nearly jumped out of her throat as she saw Minthara’s boot swing towards her. Everything happened so quickly, she didn’t even have time to react as Minthara’s boot collided into her tiny frame, sending her spiralling out from underneath the stone table and into the open.

“What in the name of the Absolute?” Minthara’s voice thundered from above, her footsteps sending off tiny earthquakes through the floor.

Ria winced in pain, every inch of her body screaming in agony, the very wind had been knocked right out of her lungs as she gasped for oxygen. She attempted to climb to her feet, but her body refused to move. Instead, she was met with searing pain that flared over her body like fire. Rapidly blinking, she turned her gaze upwards, and saw the glaring face of the drow staring down at her.

“Ah, it seems I have found an intruder.” The air shook with the intensity of Minthara’s voice, and all the colour quickly drained from Ria’s face.

Shit!

Despite the burning pain throughout her little body, Ria forced herself to her feet and made a feeble attempt to run the opposite way.

“Hahaha. You are not getting away from me that quickly, vermin.”

Ria flinched as Minthara’s boot suddenly collided with the ground in front of her, sending a rattling impact throughout the floor that almost sent her flying off her feet. Hastily she scrambled to her feet once more and began to turn to run the other way, but large fingers enclosed around her body and hoisted her up into the air.

Frantically, Ria reached for her dagger, knowing that was the last resort at defending herself. A sinking feeling settled in her gut when she couldn’t feel the blade in its sheath.

My dagger…I left it in Astarion’s mouth. I’m so fucking stupid!

“Do my eyes deceive me or am I staring at a borrower?” Minthara mused, her fingers tightening their grip on Ria’s squirming body as she wrestled in the drow’s hand. “I haven’t seen your kind for quite some time. I thought you had all been killed like the insects you are.”

“Let go of me!” Ria yelled, her stomach churning with fear, but she held her gaze firmly on the giant drow. “I-I’m not here to cause any trouble.”

The drow stared at the borrower quizzically, her red eyes narrowing. “I find it extremely unusual for a borrower to willingly walk into a Goblin Camp, do you have a death wish little creature?” She paused, her gaze scrutinising Ria like some kind of specimen in a lab. “I know there’s more than what you’re telling me.”

Ria exhaled deeply, attempting to calm her nerves. She was here now; she might as well do what she came here for.

“I’ve heard that you know some things about borrowers being traded for their blood,” Ria said firmly. “Apparently you were involved in it. I want to know why it’s happened, and if it’s still happening now.” She swallowed audibly, staring into the drow’s red gaze. “Please tell me all that you know.”

The drow’s red eyes widened before she threw back her head and laughed rather menacingly.

“Oh, this is just divine. A borrower who is not aware of the properties of their own blood? I couldn’t think of anything funnier than that.”

A wicked grin spread across the drow’s face, sending a deathly chill down Ria’s spine.

“Please! You must tell me!” Ria pleaded, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest as she locked her gaze with the drow. “I…I really have no idea. I need to know.”

“Is that so?” Minthara smiled, arching one brow. “And what, exactly, do you plan to do if I provide you this information?”

Ria’s mouth parted open, but no words fell from her lips. Just what was she going to do when she found out? It would answer a lot of questions she had, but, if borrowers were being traded for their blood, what exactly could she do about it? Was she hoping to save the borrowers that had been traded for their blood? By herself, it was impossible. But perhaps with her new friends, maybe they would help her. Either way, even if she couldn’t do anything about it, she had to know that she wasn’t the last borrower. There had to be more of her kind out there, she refused to believe otherwise. And, if she found more borrowers, perhaps she could join their colony and finally live with her own kind.

“Going awfully quiet now, aren’t you?” Minthara’s gravelly voice rumbled through the air, her gaze hardening. “No matter, you’re lucky I find it so pitiful that you are so incredibly ignorant.” Her grip on the borrower tightened, almost crushing Ria in her slender fingers and she cried out in pain.  

“I used to catch the odd borrower and trade them to a drow who was a daughter of the fallen House Oblodra,” Minthara said. “She now resides in Moonrise Towers. I haven’t come across a borrower in years, until you came along.”

A deep cackle resonated in Minthara’s throat as she watched Ria continue to thrash in her grip. “And I believe she will be most pleased to find such a fine specimen like this. Your blood will fetch a lot of gold for me.”

Ria’s face paled, her tiny hands growing cold and clammy. The drow was going to sell her off for her blood, and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop her. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do as her heart threatened to burst out of her ribcage. The only thing she could do was stall Minthara – keep her talking in hopes that maybe, just maybe, Astarion or Gale and the others happened to show up, but it was unlikely. Astarion being the one to save her seemed very slim considering his disdain towards her. But she had to do something in the meantime, whether someone came to her rescue or not, at least until she could think of a better option. And there were plenty of questions she needed to ask the drow.

“Why is borrower blood so sought after?” Ria questioned genuinely.

Minthara’s eyes widened and she stifled another cackle. “Oh, this is hilarious. You truly are an ignorant little worm.” The drow leaned over her stone table and roughly tossed Ria onto the hard surface, sending her tumbling across the stone.

“Borrower blood is rife with magic, thanks to your fickle Fey ancestry,” Minthara said, looming over Ria’s tiny frame upon the stone table. “Vampires seem to be intoxicated as soon as they get a taste of it. They easily become addicted, as if it’s like a drug to them. They also happen to pay a lot of gold to have it in large amounts, which is why blood merchants will pay a high price to obtain borrowers to sell to their vampire clients.”

“W-what?” Ria croaked, her face falling upon hearing the words fall from the drow’s mouth, her brain attempting to process what she was saying. “You…you can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I am joking?” Minthara growled, causing Ria to flinch from the intensity in her loud voice. “I know many jokes, little rat, but I can assure you I am deadly serious. Is this too much for your miniscule brain to handle?”

The entire room began to spin as Ria’s body rapidly grew numb. No, this couldn’t be true. The drow’s words echoed in her brain, rattling her very core, refusing to let her be told anything else. Her tiny body trembled as a crushing sadness washed over her, sending her buckling to her knees as her body could no longer support her own weight. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but no sound could be mustered from her lips. She remained almost frozen on the stone table, her mind racing as she pieced everything together.

Is…is that why I haven’t seen another borrower for ten years? Is that why Mum and Dad never returned home all those years ago? Were they all taken to be sold off to blood merchants?

“I see this information has been quite the revelation for you, to say the least,” Minthara’s rumbling voice jolted Ria to her senses. “As amusing as it is watching you fall apart, it is time for you to be put in a cage.”

Ria stiffened. “A what?”

A rusty, metal bird cage was placed on top of the table right across from where Ria was kneeling. Minthara opened the door to the cage as a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“When I caught borrowers more frequently, this is how I contained them.” The drow lunged forward with outstretched fingers and squeezed Ria into her fist. “Fortunately for you, I never got rid of it.”

“No!” Ria shrieked as Minthara tossed her into the cage as if she were nothing.

The door locked shut and Ria felt her stomach sink to the floor. Scrambling to her feet, she rushed to the bars of the cage and rattled them with every ounce of strength she had left.

“Let me out!” she cried at the top of her lungs. “Please, you’re making a very big mistake!”

Minthara cackled, her laugh sending vibrations through the air that shook her bones to her very core.

“Oh, I think I’m doing quite the opposite.” Minthara held the cage up to her face, consuming all of Ria’s vision as she sneered at the borrower. “Araj will be most pleased when I give you to her.”

A cold sweat trickled down Ria’s neck as tears pricked her eyelids. She was completely helpless and there was nothing she could do to stop Minthara. Oh, how stupid she had been to come here alone.

Why did I have to be so foolish…

Tears welled up, blurring her vision as a mixture of emotions coursed through her body. Fear, sadness, resentment, but most prominently out of all the emotions that swirled inside her brain, anger began to burn as brightly as the sun.

This isn’t fair! THIS ISN’T FAIR!

Her entire body went rigid as a surge of heat flooded her senses. It almost felt as if electricity was beginning to fly from her fingertips as she allowed the emotion to take a hold of her. Suddenly, a blue light began to emit from Ria’s chest and quickly spread to the rest of her body. Her body felt charged, as if she was going to burst at any moment.

“What are you doing?” Minthara snapped, bewilderment spread across her face as she stared at the borrower inside the cage.

“I’m not letting you take me!” Ria shouted fiercely, sparks literally flying as a bolt of electricity shot straight out of her fingertips and directly onto Minthara’s astonished face.

Minthara yelled in surprise as the bolt of electricity hit her directly in the face and she dropped Ria’s cage in shock. She was now falling, everything a hazy blur, until the cage slammed into the hard floor below. The impact from the floor sent the cage door flying open, and as soon as Ria had gathered her senses, she leaped out without a moment’s hesitation. Rather breathlessly she scurried away from the towering drow, her body screaming in pain, and made a mad dash towards the large bridge that was laid out across the room.

“You insolent little pest!” Minthara’s voice bellowed like thunder from above, her large footfalls sending convulsions through the stony ground.

Ria had no idea how she had summoned the bolt of electricity, but it had provided her with an opportunity to escape, and if she didn’t act quickly, she would be in the drow’s clutches once more. She sprinted as fast as her small legs could carry her, adrenaline blazing through her body as she forced herself to keep moving forward. But her movements were no match for the drow. Minthara’s hand swooped down from above and crushed Ria in her vice-like grip once more.

“I should break you for such abhorrent behaviour,” Minthara snarled, her white hair frazzled and sticking out in places from where Ria had hit her with electricity. “You are lucky that you are more valuable to me alive.”

Out of desperation, Ria attempted to summon the electricity once more, but she was met with nothing. The feeling had vanished just as soon as it had taken a hold of her.

“N-no!” she cried out, tears running down her face as she squirmed in Minthara’s fist.

“Cease your whining,” Minthara hissed, reaching down to grab the cage from the floor. “Your kind are so utterly pathetic.”

Ria screamed as loud as she could, tears streaming down her face, but it made no difference. She was going to be traded off to some blood merchant and then most likely be consumed by some vampire.

“Silence!” Minthara snarled, her red stare furious. “Or I will-”

Minthara didn’t even get to finish her sentence as an arrow shot straight through her chest, causing her to stagger backwards from the sudden impact.

The drow’s eyes went wide with fear as she stared at the arrow now protruding out of her armour. Crimson began to leak out of the wound and she coughed out a splatter of blood.

“W-what-” Minthara wheezed as her fingers loosened their grip on the borrower, allowing her to drop to the ground.

No words managed to form on Ria’s lips as her body was now falling through the air, everything passing by in slow motion as she made her gruelling descent towards the hard floor. Just before everything went black, she saw a very familiar pale elf drive a dagger through Minthara’s chest.

She let the darkness take hold of her as everything faded away. Taglist: @rose7420 @empressxmachina @taters169 @smolgloves @smolkuriboh27 @alexcutecolly (if anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please feel free to dm me!)

[spoilmesweetieforficssake]

The Good, The Bad And The Very Ugly

So from what I've gathered, you all seem rather fond of a pregnancy fic and I was honestly astounded at the response to my attempts. I was even more surprised that there were a few comments asking for a follow up?!

Well, how could I not when you asked so nicely? This follows on this pregnancy fic rather than the single mom one (though there is a part 2 coming for that too!) and is one of 3 further one shots I have planned. So...all that is to day I hope you enjoy!

~*~

When you pad through to the kitchen with the intention of putting the kettle on, you don’t expect to find Melissa grasping the work surface, her breathing ragged and uneven.  You immediately cross the space between you, laying one hand on her back and the other on top of the hand closest to you which has a white knuckle grip on the worktop. 

“’Lissa, what’s wrong?  What can I do?”

She just shakes her head, tears in her eyes, her breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. 

You recognise the symptoms you realise; she’s having a panic attack.  Prising her hands from the work surface, you hold them in your own, turning her to face you.  Speaking slowly and as calmly as you can you ignore the tremble in Melissa’s hands and instead focus on getting her to breathe.  It doesn’t happen immediately, but slowly, she responds to your quiet counting.  You tug her close, leaning her head on your shoulder as you slowly stroke one hand up and down her back.

Her breathing begins to settle, but you know from her intermittent sniffles that her tears have not.  The hand that still grasps your own finally loosens its death grip and you feel her shift so she can place her hand on your ever growing bump.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

She lets out a deep breath, finally pulling back to look at you.  “I can’t help you,” she whispers.

You frown, not following.  “You can’t help me?  Help with that?”

“This,” she says, looking down at your stomach.  “I feel like I pressured you into this and now you feel awful all the time and I can’t do anything to help.”

Smiling softly, you shake your head.  “Mel, I wouldn’t have let you put a baby in me if I didn’t want this.  And you didn’t put pressure on me.  We had a discussion, lots of them actually, and we agreed that this was what we both wanted.”

She sniffles, her eyes red rimmed with tears.  “But…”

“But what?” you prompt.

“But you’re miserable,” she grumbles.

You smile.  “No, I’m not.”

She takes a few shuddering, hiccupping breaths.  “It’s just hard, to see you going through all of this…the morning sickness that’s not just in the morning, being tired all the time because you don’t sleep so good, the aches that never go away and I just…”

“Exactly,” you breathe.  “You’re right there with me.  Mel, you’re literally there holding my hair and rubbing my back.  If I didn’t have you I’d be miserable.”"

“But I’m useless!” she whines.  “There’s nothing I can do to make you feel better and…what if something happens?  It all went so wrong for me before.”

Fresh tears gather in her eyes and you gather her close in a gentle embrace.  “A lot of things happened before,” you say softly.  “For both of us, but it brought us here, and I for one can’t regret what went before if it brought me to you.”

You cover the hand that still rests on your bump, moving it slightly to ensure she can feel the movement beneath.  Yes, it went wrong for her before, you know this.  It’s the reason you’re carrying the precious cargo that is the product of how wrong it went for her before.  It’s also part of the reason she’s so terrified something might happen.  You’re carrying a piece of her.  She’d gone through the ordeal of having her eggs frozen meaning that they’re a finite resource.  The IVF wasn’t easy, but it worked, and all the checks so far have been promising.  Everything is going well. 

“Feel that?” you ask.  “That’s your daughter, and she’s growing every single day.  Yes, she’s using my body as an amusement park and it’s not cute, but she’s strong, Melissa.  She needs you to be just as strong.  I need you to be strong.”

She takes a few deep breaths before looking up at you.  “I can do this.”

“Yes, you can,” you smile sweetly, leaning in to kiss her.  “I want this.  I want you.  I want this with you.  Never doubt that,” you whisper against her lips.  “If I had doubts about any of this, we wouldn’t be here.”

You lean your foreheads together.  “But that little life you can feel under your hand?  She’s here because I love you and I want this life with you and I know it’s scary and something might go wrong, but it also might not.”  You pause, taking a deep breath before you continue.  “But whatever happens, I’ll be here, because I will always want you.”

Your words come to a sudden stop as you make a run for the bathroom, leaving Melissa standing in her kitchen, tears in her eyes, still struggling to take in your words.  She’s never had quite such a heartfelt declaration in her life.  She’s still reeling as she moves on autopilot, fetching a glass of water and a pack of your mints before following you to the bathroom.

She sits next to you on the bathroom floor, despite the fact she knows she’ll probably need you to help her up afterwards.  In a few weeks time you’re going to need Janine or someone suitably young and agile to haul you both up off the floor.

“See, where would I be without you,” you smile.  “Sat on the bathroom floor and miserable.”

“I love you,” she says quietly.  “And I’m sorry about before.”

You shift until you can lean your head on her shoulder.  “Never apologise for that,” you tell her, lacing your fingers with hers.  “You’re allowed to be scared.  Hell, so am I.  But we’re in this together.  I put up with the vomiting and feeling gross and disgusting and you put up with me, the good and the bad and the very ugly.  It’s teamwork.”

[strawb3rrysweetheart]

Hi again, I'm the one who requested the Lucifer Morningstar x oblivious! reader! Loved it! (Which is why I am here to request another!

Once again a Lucifer fic. (He has my heart)

Lucifer x reader who is ethereal looking(also who has unique features) So to describe her, she was an albino when she was human and she just so happened to keep most of her albinism even in her afterlife. She is quite pale with white hair and red eyes. (And for gojo reference, white eyelashes and eyebrows) She has pinkish speckles on her face and body which looks like freckles. (It is lol) Tailbone length hair, her nose and ear have a natural pink hue to them. Also she's short :/. I just wanna see how he would react when he meets her and how his crush develops. Please and thanks❤❤❤

AHHH HI!! WELCOME BACK! OKAY OKAY!

CW: reader is a POC because albinism is most common in africian areas :3, brings up readers human life at first to explain why she acts the way she does, reader used to be a christian. reader loves horror movies

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺

When I was born, I had albinism. It caused issues with my family. My dad was convinced my mom had cheated on him, but to his suprise, the paternity test proves, that I was in fact, his daughter. Even if we didn't look alike. My pale skin in contrast to his darker skin. Growing up I got called a lot of names. I mean all because of my condition. Other kids on the playground would call me freak, old hag, freak of nature, and well anything they could think of. The heavily christian kids thought I was a spawn of satan because I had red eyes. It was so strange because I went to church! Just like them! And I envied the people without my condition so hard. I prayed everyday I'd wake up normal. I just couldn't handle this existence I had been cursed to. They all see me like a freak. For what? Being born? The genes in my blood? Why, its not my fault I existed, yet because I exist, now I was a target of constant bullying. Once the bullying went way to far.. They decided I was too much of a freak to just leave alone. They started hitting me. I'd come home with bruises everyday. My parents decided to home school me, to save from the bullying. But I never forgot.

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Now that I'm dead, Life is different. To my joy, people in hell all looked off, different. I mean you could tell I had, had albinism in my past life, but I fit in more. It wasn't used against me. Yet one thing still bugged

me. Why was I even here? I never sinned, well besides envy. But that shouldn't count! God gave me a condition that ruined my life. And yet somehow he thinks its fair to punish me for his own cruel action. It doesn't feel right. Fuck god. If he

n's gonna curse me to an existence like this, then I'll find a wa\y out. So.. I started searching, for anyone.. anything, that could get me into heaven. I stumble on an ad for this hotel.. It had said it was a chance for redeemtion! And it was free, which was good because I hadn't had a job here in hell.. Eventually I make it there, and knock on the door. A pale looking blonde lady opens the door. "Hi!! I'm Charlie!!! Are you here to live in the hotel??" She basically squeals, she seems very excited. "Uh.. yeah" You say awkwardly. She lets you in, and you meet all the hotel residents. There's a tall-ish dude with multiple limbs.. I think his name was angel? A snake, A deer, A cat, this short girl, vaggie? I think? Charlie, and a shorter dude named lucifer. Whatever.. 'friends' aren't my concern.. My concern is getting to heaven to prove my point to god. You follow Charlie to your new room, and put your stuff down. As soon as you put your stuff down, you politely ask Charlie for some space. She agrees, exiting the room. God I hope that this whole.. ordeal isn't as interactive as its been so far. You start unpacking and then you walk out of the hotel room, waving to lucifer. Look if I was going to make god understand my problem, might as well befriend his worst enemy, right? Lucifer waves back, and to my dismay, he walks over. "Hiya!! So you're like new here.. Right?" He asks, he seems nervous. Why is he nervous? He's litterally satan. "Uh, yeah" You reply, matching his nervous energy unintentionally. "So.. why do you wanna get redeemed?" Lucifer asks, not holding your gaze for very long. He seems figety. "Uh.. just think I was an okay person, a bit envious, but fine" You shrug, not wanting to give away your entire life story to the literal devil, who could betray you at any point. "Oh! Well yeah, thats not.. bad, thats good! I-I mean not good that you're envious- but its not the worst? Its okay.." Lucifer feels the need to backtrack on everything. Why is he so nervous? Whatever..

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺

It had been a few months now. Everyone is nice enough. Its more interactive then I would've perfered, but whatever, they're nice and we're kind of close now. Lucifer has been acting even more strangely to me. He fidgets, backtracks, and stutters like usual. But he also blushes, gets me gifts, and well just gives me the most attention..

"Uh.. (Name)??" Lucifers voice breaks me out of my thoughts. "Oh! Sorry, Uh, whats up luci?" I ask. Me and lucifer are the closest. Hes the one I truly consider a friend. His cheeks tinge red at something, persumably the nickname. "Just asking you if you wanna have a movie night at my place.. but not like in a weird way! Just a friend way.. unless you hate movies.. or me.. uh it can be your place. or mine" He backtracks as usual. I giggle. "I'd love to. Horror movies pleaseee" I say, horror movies are my favorite. Lucifer nods a bit too quickly, and pulls on his collar. "Of course! You can cuddle on me if you get scared!! Unless thats weird.. Was that weird" He laughs. God he's so awkward.. I (love) like him. "Nah, you're chill luci. Nothing you do is weird" I smile. Hoping to give him comfort. He smiles, his blush redder then normal. Before he grabs my hands. I out of habit attempt to jerk away, but stop myself. "I-Its a date!! Date... uh.. date but not like in the romantic way... hah. I'm holding your hands too long aren't I?" He asks, his palms are sweaty but I don't mind. Mine are too. Symptoms of anxiety I guess. "A date, I'll get popcorn. And no, you're fine" I snort at him, his awkward smile, the glances away from me, the way his cheeks redden at me not pulling away. "No! Uh.. no, I can get popcorn, I'm the king after all, they like, kinda have to give me good popcorn.." He says, trying to seem confident, yet failing. He can be prideful around everyone.. I don't know why he's extra awkward with me...

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I put on my favorite horror movie. I snort at lucifer in his duck onesie. Sitting on his couch. Many pillows and blankets around me, with the bowl of popcorn on my lap. "What?? You don't like my onesie?" Lucifer asks, mock offended. He sits down next to me and eats some popcorn. "Oh you look gorgeous.." I giggle.

As the movie plays, Lucifer jumps at every jumpscare. Its incredibly funny to watch the big bad king get scared of a few jumpscares.. He ended up burying his head into my arm. "You scared luci?" I tease him. "No!.. no.. yes.. sorry I lied" He mumbles, not enjoying being seen as the weak one. He shoves popcorn into his mouth to avoid further conversation. "Lucifer, I'm not gonna make fun of you.. Do you wanna watch a different movie?" I ask. Lucifers eyes light up. He nods and takes the remote. Changing it to a romance movie. I smile as the king himself uncurls himself from my arm, watching the movie with intrest. I personally think the movie is incredibly boring, but he's having fun, and thats enough for me. I watch the movie with him, holding his hand and squeezing it. Lucifer blushes, eyes widening. Hes such a dork.. I eat popcorn as lucifer rambles about how sweet the love story is. "If only we fell in love like that.. UH!! I MEAN.. uh HAH! What a good joke right!!" He laughs, forcibly. My eyes widen, blush teases at my cheeks. "Uhm.. lucifer? Do you wanna tell me anything?" I ask. Still squeezing his hand. "Uhm.! Do I have to?" He squeaks out. I nod. "Well I'd say so" I chuckle. He sighs playfully. "Finee... Uhm. I have a massive crush on you and I love you and I really wanna hold you and maybe uhm... kiss.. you!" He says quickly. I snort, giggling. "I like you too luci" I say softly. My fingers caress his hand. He smiles like a school girl. "REALLY?? Uh-.. I mean, of course you do, I'm like, the hottest" He grins, trying to seem cocky. "Oh yeah, the hottest" I smile, and kiss his forehead. He blushes deeply and nods. Letting out unintelligable noises. Maybe I finally have found love. Maybe its all worth it. Maybe I do desserve love.

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[quietwingsinthesky]

Thoschei kiss without a motive :O

(hands to u my first writing of the morning) have some weird little guys

He’s getting used to breathing again.

Funny thing about coming back from the dead in a body that resists it, that would rather burn than focus on the beating of its own hearts: it was hard to remember he needed air. Hunger came much easier.

This body is alive now. A little radiation can be good for you, under the right circumstances. Even better with a taste of fate derailed and a glimpse of the Doctor’s wide-eyed shock, as if he was the only one who got to break the rules of time.

Hunger lingers. Hunger transforms. He’s growing restless inside the TARDIS’s walls. Not a prisoner — the Doctor has never been able to keep what he loves in a cage, always sets it free and doesn’t dare hope it loves him enough to return. Not free — where would he go? And besides, the Doctor can barely fly the TARDIS on his own. What if he went and crashed into a moon and forgot to regenerate because the whole ordeal was so humiliating? The Master can’t leave him.

The Doctor can’t look at him, most days. Others, he can’t look away. He’s bad for conversation whether he’s guilty or enraptured.

So the Master takes up sneaking into his room while he’s asleep. The Doctor would at least lock his door if he didn’t want it to happen, not that any lock would keep the Master out for long. The Doctor sleeps in awkward bursts, a familiar pattern that he’s never grown out of and the Master has always had to deal with. At least he manages to get into his own bed these days before passing out.

The Master perches over him. He watches the Doctor breathe and matches him. He doesn’t make a sound.

He’s bold enough to touch when the Doctor is deeply unconscious. He slides a hand over the Doctor’s chest and feels one heart, then the other, so slow and peaceful. Not like the humans he plays around with their jabbering single heartbeats, too fast and too loud.

He raises his hand to the Doctor’s throat. He likes this body’s neck. His hand fits so well around it. It would have been a shame to let the Doctor regenerate into someone that the Master’s hands might not belong on. His lazy pulse beats below the Master’s fingers, and his breaths echo from the Master’s own lips.

Up again, to his mouth, to feel the air pass back and forth.

He doesn’t think. He takes.

The Doctor’s mouth is slack and warm.

And then, his hand is in the Master’s hair before he can react, keeping him still and close.

When he’s allowed to pull back, the Doctor is watching him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t panic, as comfortable as before. The Master wonders how many times the Doctor’s been playing at sleep to lure him in.

“I thought you came in here to kill me, the first time,” the Doctor says calmly. “I prefer this.”

[sarielsnowings]

Awoooo ✨🌙

Spooky season is for SELF INDULGENT ART ONLY.

The paragraph that follows goes into my own body image issues around body hair and transitioning so if you don’t feel like reading some personal thoughts you can skip it! ^^ I just felt like sharing a bit of the thought process behind this piece.

I’ve been getting more hairy ever since starting testosterone (to be expected, of course) and I’ve had encountered feelings about it. On one hand it’s exciting to see the changes but on the other, having always been a fairly hairy person (and presenting feminine throughout my teens) I had a lot of self hate and insecurity around my body hair. It’s dark and strong and grows everywhere, but getting rid of it was an immense ordeal since I’d have to shave very often (and took forever to do so) and more long lasting methods like waxing or any other form of pulling hair out would usually just cause injuries. I felt ugly and unlovable because of something my body was just naturally programmed to do in order to keep me safe and protected. I’m glad I could change my mind, slowly dismantling all the fucked up expectations and beauty standards my surroundings (family, friends, society) had implemented so deep in my brain. For me, realising I was non binary was a huge help, as I didn’t feel like I had to conform to the idea of “womanhood” anymore, but most people don’t have the luxury of that first encouraging push! If you’re a woman, or if you’re anyone who’s ever felt pressured to have a particular relationship with your body hair (and your image in general), you should still be able to live your life as comfortably as possible within your body. You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of the way you look. It should be YOUR decision whether you’d like to shave or not, for aesthetic reasons or comfort or health or otherwise! YOUR choice. Anyway… a few years have gone by, I’m glad I have a much healthier and kinder relationship with my body in that sense. Then I started testosterone treatment (which has made me incredibly happy so far) and I noticed more hair growing, and some of these thought came back to haunt me. The insecurity and fear… but I’m not 13 anymore. I’ve lived through the anxiety and the stress and the insecurity and now I can face this with new, slightly wiser eyes. And it’s alright. It’s ok! I look how I look, it’s cute! It’s affirming. I love seeing the changes, I love discovering the pattern in which my faint beard grows, just like a musketeer’s, I love my happy trail spiralling down into my bellybutton. And if I ever want to change things up, I can always shave, on occasion, but I’m glad I no longer feel like I HAVE TO. This new stage of hair growth made me think of werewolves and their transformation, and you know what? Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m not a ghoul, a vampire or a skeleton this Halloween. Maybe I’m a fluffy wolf howling at the moon. A wild creature baring fangs, eyes shining in the underbrush. A soft, tail-wagging friend happy to receive head-pats... It’s all good. I’m alright.

[generalllimaginesss]

Loom

Trevor Zegras imagine based on Zach Bryan’s song Loom…solely my interpretation of the song.

As always there will probably be mistakes, but I hope you enjoy!

Heads up: Jordan is Y/N’s bf

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year. Also, I am alive, just going through a different stage of life and trying to find my passion for writing again.

How do I make you fall in love with me?

And how would I let you know I care?

And how would I say that the man your laying with is not the man that should be laying there?

How would a boy like me put it?

A man with some sense probably wouldn’t,

But I don’t give a damn, I am not a smart man

I’m gonna say some words I shouldn’t.

Some would say that Trevor Zegras’ best friend was Jack Hughes, Jamie Drysdale, Cole Caufield, or some random hockey player. That person would be partially correct, Trevor loved all of his friends deeply. However Y/N Y/L held a spot in his heart for best friend. Their families had been close friends since before the two were ever even a thought. They had watched each other grow up and turn into the young adults that they were today.

Where Trevor was outgoing and charismatic, Y/N was laid back and reserved. They balanced each other out in the most perfect way. Trevor’s flirty personality was something that the girl had grown used to, she didn’t take him seriously when he commented on her body, or made advances. That was Trevor, and there was no changing that.

Things started to change, however, when Y/N started dating somebody in college. Trevor had been drafted by the Ducks, so the two really only saw the each other on random FaceTime calls or holidays when they both happened to be home. Y/N lived clear across the country, but she loved watching her best friend show out in Anaheim.

“What are you doing?” Trevor’s voice echoed from Y/N’s phone throughout her apartment. Trevor had just gotten home from a game, his hair still wet from the shower he took, but his FaceTime with Y/N was a priority.

“I’m cleaning up. Jordan is on his way and I don’t want the apartment to look like a wreck,” she explained as she wiped the kitchen counters.

“Why the hell is he still in the picture? I thought we had a conversation about his douchey tendencies,” Trevor questioned as he began to play his Xbox.

“I don’t know, he’s just what I envisioned as my future. We’ve got similar beliefs, he loves my family, he’s kinda hot….there’s just something about him that I can’t let go of,” Y/N rambled on as she lit a candle. She walked back over to her phone, only her forehead showing on the camera, and watched as Trevor bit his lip in concentration.

He was acting like the whole ordeal was strictly a worried best friend, but in reality it ate him alive that his best friend was being treated like she was replaceable. In Trevor’s eyes she was far from replaceable. There would never be anybody that could take that place in his life, and he prayed to God that he could show her how she deserved to be treated.

“He’s a fucking prick, Y/N. I mean he went golfing with his buddies when your grandmother died. Who was left picking up the pieces? Me,” Trevor rolled his eyes just thinking about that instance where he realized how shitty of a boyfriend Jordan was.

“In his defense, we had only been dating for a few weeks. Like, that’s a lot of emotion for the beginning of a relationship, so I get it. It would have been awkward,” Y/N defended him, resulting in Trevor tossing his remote to the side and looking at Y/N.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. I’m almost positive that he’s only with you because you’re hot and gave him sex the first date,” Trevor couldn’t stop it from rolling off his tongue. As soon as the words left his mouth he wanted to grab them back and destroy them. He knew Y/N confided in him about intimate things in her life, and for him to be throwing them in her face broke and unspoken rule.

“Fuck you, Trevor,” Y/N’s voice rose slightly as a tear threatened to spill out of her eye.

“I didn’t mean it, Y/N,” he tried to apologize, but Y/N was having none of it.

“Yes you did, dumbass,” she responded as she ended the call.

Trevor didn’t know how to go about these emotions with his best friend, but all he knew was that he had to do something about it. He couldn’t take it out on her or anybody that had interest in her.

And I had a dream I was falling

And maybe that’s a fucked up metaphor

Maybe it just means, when I meet you in my dreams

Nothing stops me from going through the floor

Almost a week had passed from the time that Trevor had a word vomit and the present day. There had been a few messages between the two since then, but not the regular communication that the two were used to. Trevor had finished a workout and could not get her off of his mind. No matter what, all he could see was her face of hurt from his poor word choice.

As soon as he got home, he crashed on the couch. His muscles and mind were exhausted from a long day’s work.

He didn’t know if it was because she was weighing on his mind so heavily, or if it was because he was so tired, but he dreamt of a life where him and Y/N were totally in love.

“I’m gonna marry you one day, Y/L/N,” he held her in his arms and kissed her temple. She tasted sweet, like the vanilla body wash that she always used. He swore he could smell strawberries in her hair, a few pieces lingering on his face as he pulled away and looked at her.

“And what makes you so sure of that, Z?” She playfully bantered back. Her cheeks were rosy, but it could have been from the summer sun that they had been in all day.

“Because nobody will ever love you the way I do,” he whispered as he closed in on her light pink lips.

Before the kiss had finished, Trevor jolted awake. The sound of Jamie closing the door interrupting his slumber. He had been out cold for a good 3 hours, sweat drenching the curls that covered the nape of his neck.

“You good, Z?” Jaime asked from across the living room.

“No, man. I don’t think I am,” he groaned as he got up, patting Jaime on the shoulder and heading to his room. He climbed into his bed while scrolling through his phone, hoping to see his best friend’s name pop up on something. He reread their last texts going over plans for their summer break coming up. They weren’t the normal talks of exciting things, but discussing who was and wasn’t going to be there. The only thing that could make matters worse was the fact that Jordan would be there for a wedding that they were all invited to.

Trevor plugged his phone in on his nightstand and tried to go back to sleep as best as he could, but the thought of his girl made the task feel impossible. He settled for staring at the ceiling fan until it lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

And I know all the bad things about you

But I still think you’re the purest of our kind

I remember being younger with an awful pining hunger

For a good that a boy could never find

And the fear of a man still left behind

Trevor always thought he couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment that he fell in love with his best friend, but the plane ride back to Bedford gave him plenty of time to rethink that. All of the memories of growing up with the girl seemed to pass as a blur, but he could remember one night that the two were playing truth or dare with a group of friends. The two of were probably 15, at most, going through that awkward stage of freshman year and trying to figure out who they were were.

“Y/N, truth or dare?” Trevor displayed a devilish grin as she rolled her eyes and groaned.

She gave it a considerable thought. Trevor knew some pretty embarrassing things about her. He knew that she carried her childhood blanket everywhere she went until she was twelve. He knew that she was the one that stole her grandfather’s dentures and tried to put them in the dog’s mouth. He knew every single guy that she claimed to have a crush on, so she definitely knew what she wouldn’t pick.

“Dare, but please go easy on me, jerk,” she practically begged her best friend. Nothing could prepare her for what he decided, however.

“Kiss me,” he smiled as the whole group of friends giggled and pushed Y/N towards him.

Trevor thought back to how it was a simple peck on the lips, but he distinctly remembered the nerves in his stomach and the race of his heart after it happened.

Y/N had immediately wiped it off and ran to wash her mouth under the sink, leaving the group in fits of laughter. Everybody except Trevor, of course. He kept his appearance of the clown of the group, continuing on with the game like he didn’t just steal his best friend’s first kiss.

The sound of the captain of the plane interrupted his thoughts, announcing the plane’s landing in LaGuardia. Trevor took one AirPod out as everybody began to get their carry on bags and joined in the jostling in the aisle.

After picking up his checked bag, he began to look for his brother’s car outside of the airport. Immediately, he spotted his little brother, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing Y/N standing beside him, sporting a wide smile with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

He gave his brother a hug and then turned to Y/N, rolling his eyes as he forced her into a hug. She gave up her tough persona and buried her head into his shoulder, squeezing back.

“I thought you were still pissed at me, to be honest,” he let go of her and ruffled her hair.

“I was for a while, but I had to keep the surprise so I just kept it up,” she admitted and stuck her tongue out at him. Griffin let his older brother drive and Y/N sit in the passenger seat.

Maybe, just maybe, Trevor might have a chance with his best friend. He pined for that feeling he had at 15.

So I guess I’ll just love you from the window

While you’re dancing with the charmers in the room

And I’ll sneak out that door like I have a time before

And just let that lost love loom

And just let that list love loom

Summer was going amazing, that is until Jordan showed up the day before Y/N’s cousin’s wedding. Trevor knew this was inevitable, but the disappointment was there nonetheless. Hearing his best friend laugh with him, watching them sneak kisses when they thought no one was looking, the whole thing made Trevor sick to his stomach. One, because it was actually disgusting to watch the douche kiss his girl, but two, because that should have been Trevor. Trevor swore that she laughed more genuine with just himself though. He smiled at the thought.

The next day came quickly. The Zegras family had gotten dressed and drove to the Y/L/N’s house to help with anything they could. Y/N’s mom was grabbing last minute details that she had been responsible for, so Julie began to help.

Trevor was making small talk with Griffin when he glanced up the stairs and saw Y/N coming down. His breath hitched for a second, but he let out a slightly audible groan when he saw Jordan walking down behind her. Griffin shot a confused look at his brother, but shook it off.

The families loaded up into a few vehicles and made their way to the venue. The ceremony was beautiful and the reception was so much fun. At least at first.

The DJ had been playing upbeat songs that everybody was dancing to, but as the night progressed the first slow song began. Trevor left the dance floor to go outside and sit at one of the tables that was set up. He could still see everything that was happening through a window, hearing the slow song continue. He thought he would be ok, but when he saw Jordan and Y/N swaying to the music he felt a surge of jealousy rise up. He wanted to march in there, tell Jordan to go to hell, and steal Y/N. He watched Y/N, her dress swaying with the movement of her body. The lights gave her a sort of glow. Trevor longed to be the one holding her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

“I know I have no say in the matter, but I do wish that something would have come from the two of you’s relationship,” Y/N’s dad startled Trevor, eliciting a chuckle at the reaction.

Trevor gave off a sigh and turned to the man that was practically his second dad.

“I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but me too,” Trevor rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back at Jordan and Y/N. The slow dance was coming to an end, but Trevor really wanted to get this off his chest, even if it was just with Y/N’s dad.

“I love her a lot, Trevor. She’s my only girl,” Her dad laughed and slug an arm around Trevor’s shoulders, “But she has been so oblivious to your feelings,” the man gave Trevor a squeeze.

“Have I really been that obvious?” Trevor’s cheeks were burning, especially when Shut Up and Dance With Me by WALK THE MOON started playing and he watched as Y/N was looking around the room, desperately trying to find her best friend. This had been their song since 8th grade homecoming, and there was no way she was going to let it play without dancing with Trevor.

“Extremely,” Y/N’s dad chuckled, “My opinion counts for nothing, but I think you should tell her.”

Trevor smiled at the idea, but he didn’t even know where to begin with that. Was it really worth ruining their friendship? A 22 year long friendship?

“I think, for now at least, things are better left unsaid,” Trevor responded.

“If that’s what you think, then that’s what you think,” The older man laughed as he watched his daughter stomp towards them.

The conversation was interrupted as Y/N stepped in between the two men.

“There’s no way in hell that you’re getting off without dancing with me to this song,” She grabbed Trevor by the hands and pulled him onto the dance floor. The two danced hard, sweat beading on their foreheads as the song played.

Trevor’s personality was shining through his dance moves, and Y/N was letting him have his moment. Neither one of them were thinking of Jordan until the song ended and her boyfriend tapped Trevor on the shoulder.

“I’d like to steal my girlfriend back,” he slurred slightly, totally oblivious of Trevor’s feelings toward him. Y/N squealed as Jordan took her to a corner of the venue, placing kisses on her cheeks and lips. Trevor had made his way toward Griffin, but not before seeing Jordan whispering in Y/N’s ear, something that made Y/N blush and giggle.

Trevor couldn’t watch it anymore. He found Griffin, let his parents know that they were leaving, and made their way back home.

His mind was in a cycle of asking himself if he should tell his best friend his feelings, to reasoning why that would be the worst idea, to genuinely being curious if something would come of it. Maybe this feeling is better left hanging between the two.

How do I make you fall in love with me?

Is it lost in the emptiness of apathy?

Should I fight for it like war, should I nail it down to boards

Or do I live in a love I’m dying for?

“I should have listened to you,” Y/N admitted to Trevor, snuggled to his side on the couch as some random movie played in the background. The thunderstorm outside provided the perfect ambience for a cozy movie day with Trevor.

Y/N had found text messages that Jordan had sent to girls while the two had been together. Messages that revealed that she was not the only girl occupying his mind and bed.

“I’m not going to say I told you so, but I do recall a conversation that went a little like me explaining how he was a douche,” Trevor mindlessly twirled her hair around his finger.

“I know you’re so satisfied with being able to say that,” Y/N rolled her eyes. She should have listened to Trevor. She was never going to admit that, but it was true. There were many red flags that she put blinders to, and in the end it bit her in the butt. It really hurt, but Y/N knew in a small place in her heart that Jordan wasn’t the one. He was fun, but he didn’t have everything that Y/N was looking for. The relationship was on the downhill stretch, so his cheating just sped things up a bit.

“I’m not satisfied. I wish he didn’t put you through this,” Trevor corrected his friend. He didn’t want to rub it in her face, but he wanted her to know that he cared. He cared before the relationship, he cared while they were dating, and he’s going to care when she can’t remember his name anymore.

“Is it terrible that him cheating gave me an excuse to break up with him? I wanted him to do something to end it. Like yeah, we had sex every now and then, but it just feels like after the wedding things started to fizzle out,” Y/N admitted as she picked her fingernails, a habit that she picked up at an early age to deal with conversations and feelings that were hard.

“If that’s how you feel, then no, it’s not terrible. You feel what you feel. You can’t help that,” Trevor reassured her.

“I just wish somebody would love me for me. I wish that somebody could match my energy, or maybe just not cheat? I don’t know, I feel like that’s not asking much,” She chuckled and wiggled around to get more comfortable.

Trevor grinned at his friend. “Y/N Y/L/N, why don’t you just ask me on a date,” he half joked, but a small part of him was serious. It didn’t matter, though, because Y/N let out a laugh at him, and her laughter was the most important thing right now.

“In your dreams, Z,” She flashed him a smile and focused her attention back on the tv in front of them.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, not expecting her to hear it.

“What?” Her head snapped at him as his eyes grew wide.

Was now his chance to finally admit his feelings? Should he give her a chance to get over her relationship she just got out of? He didn’t have much time to decide, so he let his mouth take over.

“Look, you’re dad already knows,” Trevor sighed as he began to admit his feelings.

“Already knows what, exactly?” The confusion was written all over Y/N’s face.

“I think I just need to wait to tell you this,” Trevor tried to drop the conversation, but Y/N wasn’t budging.

“No, you made the comment, so you have to explain it. I’m fine. I don’t need you to tip-toe around me,” Y/N explained as she gave the boy her full attention.

“Ok, well I’m going to lay these feelings out there, but please don’t freak out. I’m always going to be your best friend no matter what,” With those words, both of their hearts began to speed up.

“Just say it, Z,” Her patience was wearing thin with the boy.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since I stole your first kiss. The thought of another guy being with you makes me sick. Like physically makes me feel like I want to vomit. You say you want somebody to match your energy, but I’m the exact opposite of you and we’ve been inseparable since birth. You have this idea of what you want, and it sucks because never once did you consider me in that. Like is this hopeless? Could anything possibly come from this?” Trevor lost control of what he was saying. Every feeling that crossed his brain regarding his best friend was spoken. In a way it was relieving, but the fear of being rejected quickly took place.

“Z…” Y/N was speechless. Never in a million years did she expect her best friend since birth to admit he loved her. She truly didn’t know what to say.

“Well say something. I just told you I loved you, so I’m gonna need a little more elaboration than just ‘Z’,” Trevor was desperate for her to say something.

“You just laid it out there huh,” Y/N snickered.

“Right there on the floor, yep,” Trevor raised his eyebrows and bit the inside of his cheek. For the first time in his life, he wanted to crawl in a deep dark hole and die there. Die a recluse that didn’t admit to loving his best friend.

“Wow,” Y/N took a deep breath in. Things had never been awkward between the two in their whole life, but this was painfully awkward. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t love Trevor, she did. And truth be told, she had a slight crush on him growing up. However, she got over it. That wasn’t to say that she couldn’t open up to the idea of a relationship with Trevor, but it would have to take time to unfold.

“I’m leaving,” Trevor began to put his shoes on and stuffed his keys in his pocket when Y/N grabbed his arm.

“Just hold on. I know you’re feeling embarrassed telling me this, but think about me hearing it. That was the last thing I expected you to say today. I’m just shocked, that’s it,” She became aware of her hand wrapped around his forearm, pulling him back on the couch.

"I wish I never told you,” He ran his fingers through his hair, strands going in many different directions. He situated himself next to you once more, his leg bouncing at a rapid rate once he stilled.

“Trevor, I mean this with the utmost respect….shut the hell up.”

If your words didn’t catch his attention, then your side eye most definitely did.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” He sighed, resting his head on the back of the couch. He steadied his breathing, waiting for your voice to pierce through the silence in the room.

“I love you, too.”

Trevor’s interest piqued, rotating his body so that he is completely facing you. He could tell you had more to say, so he let you.

“I’ve loved you for 22 years. I mean, not that I can remember much when we were younger, but I know you’ve always been my very best friend. I’ve gone through phases where I thought you were cute, I used to think any girl that you hung out with was a threat to our friendship. I remember our first middle school dance…I told your date your favorite color was neon green so she’d wear that awful dress,” You chuckled as you recalled that night. It definitely ended with his date telling her mom that Trevor was cheating on her with you. You were 12.

“You didn’t, Y/L…”

The corners of his mouth were curving upward as the memory played in his head.

“Oh, I did. I remember the first time I met Jack and Cole…you were jealous that me and Jack had hit it off so you told him about me throwing up the first time I had to give a presentation in speech. I was so mad at you, but you guys lost the game that night because you missed a goal. I promised myself that night that I would take the responsibility of being louder than your thoughts. You beat yourself up so bad for days after that, but all I could think about was that you saw a sunflower growing in a random field and decided to pull over and pick it for me that day. You are the most selfless person I know. You are the hardest on yourself, and you use your humor to deflect that. I know that you worry everyday if you’re truly good enough to be playing at the level you’re at,” You brought your thumb up to wipe away a tear that was puddling in the corner of his eye.

Trevor knew everything you were saying was true. He was jealous when you met Jack because he knew that Jack was capable of getting all of the girls. And he could have all of them, just not you. He also remembered that car ride home from practice when he was driving home from practice and there was a single sunflower in the middle of nowhere. That was your favorite flower. Maybe it was a sign?

“Trevor Zegras, I can’t promise that I can be in a relationship right away. But what I can promise is that I can learn to be a different role for you. Don’t you ever have regrets. I love you, you idiot,” You ruffled his hair and pulled his cheek to your lips.

Cheekily, at the last second he turned his head and smashed his lips on yours. You both smiled into the kiss, but when you pulled away you thumped his ear as hard as you could.

He winced, but flashed a cheeky grin, “That was for 15-year-old me…”

“I hate you,” the two of you laughed.

As the rain kept pouring and the candles scattered around the room flickered, you both were consumed in your own thoughts. Would this complicate things? Probably. But relationships were difficult anyway. Might as well figure it out together.

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*I would also like to say that I’m stuck between going ahead and posting the second part of Reasons to Stay and making it a tiny series or just writing a long ass piece. I have no creativity for anything else though. I also wrote the majority of this before Jaimie was traded and just didn’t want to go back and change that.*