#i hope this is what you were wanting anon!!!!

[pathologicalreid]

what goes bump in the night | s.r.

in which Spencer's struggling with violent nightmares after prison, and you find yourself on the receiving end of his tossing and turning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: reader gets whapped in the face. don't like don't read, please. blood, prison arc, black eye, a lot of guilt. therapy. word count: 1.89k a/n: (this wasn't a request but shout out to the anon who told me i had to repost this after i deleted it) this is some dark shit but i have to admit i do think about the possibility a lot. take care while reading my loves.

Several years in the BAU had inadvertently trained you to wake up at any slight movement or noise. While some might call it paranoia, you considered it to be a finely tuned skill.

Spencer didn’t sleep talk before prison, and even now, he only mumbled in his sleep when he was having a nightmare. Normally, he didn’t move, he just tossed his head around and begged for whoever he was seeing in his nightmare to just hold on. Tonight was different, he sounded like he was pleading for someone to leave him alone, and he was thrashing more than usual.

You knew there was a risk of waking him, but you reached out and gently shook his shoulder anyway. “Spence,” you whispered, not wanting to hurtle him out of his darkened dreamscape.

There was no response. No sign of him coming even close to waking up.

His thrashing became worse, and his mumbling became even less intelligible like something was covering his mouth in his dream. Reaching out from your side of the bed, you tried to grab his hand, hoping it would be something that he could use to ground himself. Gripping his hand, you said his name again, more forcefully this time.

The pain didn’t even register at first. The first thing you recognized was the sensation of having something stuck in your eye, a small twinge in the outer corner that sent your hands flying to the side of your face.

Oh.

With your uninjured eye, you looked up to see Spencer, awake. Breathing heavy, sure, but awake. Very slowly, his breathing slowed, but he had seemingly forgotten that he was sharing a bed with you until you felt liquid trickling from your nose and scrambled to the bathroom before you got blood all over the sheets.

His wide eyes followed your shadow through the bedroom, putting the convoluted puzzle pieces together as he came out from under his nightmare-induced fugue state only to find a different type of panic. You faintly heard him curse and rustle the sheets as you shut the bathroom door harder than you intended.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your right eye was tearing up as a result of the impact, and your nose was trickling blood down your face. Grabbing a wad of tissues from the box on the counter, you pressed them to your nose, blinking the tears from your eyes to the sound of your heart beating through your chest.

Spencer knocked on the bathroom door, followed by a larger thud that you assumed was him leaning his head against the door. “Can I come in?”

You tried not to sniff, hating the sensation of your nose being covered, you responded, “It’s your bathroom.” Your tone was far too blasé, and Spencer was going to see through it immediately.

“That’s not what I asked,” he told you, a slight tone of desperation ringing through. You knew what he wanted to know; he was asking if you were comfortable with him being in the same room as you – if you’d feel safe with him in the same room as you.

Leaning your head back, you took as deep of a breath as your body would physically allow you before you answered, “Yeah, you can come in.”

Before you had even finished speaking, Spencer had opened the door to the bathroom, letting the light stream into the bedroom, “Fuck,” he murmured when he saw you, “Hey, don’t lean your head back. You don’t want the blood to run down your throat.”

“Okay,” your voice quavered, watching him lift his hands like he wanted to guide your head down until he realized he didn’t know what to do with his hands – he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. Leaning over the sink, you let coagulated blood fall from your mouth, watching it go down the drain before you looked up at Spencer, who watched on in horror at the mess he had created. “Can you grab more tissues?” You asked him, giving him a job to busy his idle hands.

Instantly, Spencer grabbed a handful of tissues and held them out for you, within your range of motion. Still leaning over the sink, you took the new tissues and held them to your nose, haphazardly dropping the soiled tissue in the basin beneath you. “I don’t… What-“

Cutting him off, you spoke, “Do you still have those ice packs? The first aid ones from last year,” you made a new request, giving him a job to perform so that he wouldn’t apologize to you. He’d apologize until he was blue in the face, but you still wouldn’t know how to respond.

He nodded, crouching in front of one of the cabinets and filtering through a first aid kit, hoping to produce a disposable ice pack for you to place near your eye. With the timidness of a newborn foal, Spencer set the plastic on the counter next to you.

Your boyfriend watched as you carefully peeled the tissues from your face, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, only to quickly replace the tissue when you noticed a trickle of fresh blood making its way down your philtrum. “Aren’t you supposed to pinch it or something?”

“Yes, you can pinch the bridge of your nose to staunch the bleeding,” Spencer said, grabbing your discarded Kleenex and putting them in the garbage bin. He watched intently as you reached up your free hand to pinch your nose, “Does… does it hurt?”

Giving him a quick shake of the head, you met his eyes through the mirror, “I don’t think it’s broken,” you told him, avoiding answering most of his question.

He loosed a sigh of relief, “Thank god,” he murmured, keeping an eye on you as you wondered how terrified he must have been to invoke the name of a deity he didn’t believe in.

Once you were finally able to drop the last of the tissues in the sink, you were faced with an even worse reality. There was no way of escaping the black eye that you already had forming, the tender skin would be further marred with time. “I think it looks worse than it actually is,” you offered meekly, reaching to your side and grabbing the ice pack off of the counter. You popped the center of it before wrapping it in a towel that Spencer had set out for you.

Holding in a hiss as the towel touched your face, you allowed your eyes to wander across the rest of your body. Your shirt had drips of blood on it, but the larger issue was red encrusted all over your face. With the urgency of a sloth, Spencer took a different towel from the drawer and ran it under the tap, wringing it out before holding it up, “May I?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, thankful for your newly cleared airway as you extended your neck, giving him the access he needed to wipe the blood from your chin and neck. “Spence-“

“I’m so sorry,” he interjected, his movements faltering as he let his hand drop to your shoulder.

You shook your head, crinkling the icepack in your hand, you blinked rapidly, hoping to clear your vision. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” you told him, it was the truth. He had obviously been having a violent nightmare, and you grabbing him had likely triggered a fight or flight response.

Spencer sighed dejectedly, “I burst a blood vessel in your eye. I’m so…” his voice trailed off in the middle of his sentence, leaving you unsure whether he was going to apologize again or go off on a self-deprecating tirade. “I hit you,” he breathed, abruptly yanking his hands away from you, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.” Setting the washcloth on the counter, he put his hands up in surrender and stepped away from you.  

Leaning against the bathroom counter, you wished for an inkling – anything you could say to him that would prevent his auto-villainization. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that. Saying you hit me sounds so…”

“Wrong? That’s because it is,” he said harshly, and you could almost see the storm of self-loathing that was brewing in his mind.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your grip on the icepack before looking up at him, “but it makes it sound like it was intentional. You didn’t hit me, you… thwapped me.”

Spencer loosed a shaky sigh, “I’m not so sure that’s better.”

“Would you prefer bonked?” You proposed, looking at him and hoping for a small smile, but being disappointed when you were met with the same haunted expression. “It was an accident,” you insisted, reaching out your unoccupied hand and taking his hand in yours, “I am fine.”

He scoffed dismissively, “I should have had a better handle on myself.”

You frowned, “You were asleep, Spence. You couldn’t have had a better handle on yourself. It wasn’t on purpose, and you’re taking care of me now,” you told him softly.

“But you’re scared of it happening again,” he challenged you.

When he had come home, you knew he had been changed. Not necessarily for the better or for worse, but he was most certainly changed. You had heard everything in bits and pieces, what had happened in Millburn, what had happened with Cat, but nothing had prepared you for the harshness of your new reality. He was capable of harming others, but that didn’t mean you thought he’d hurt you again. “You’re disappointed in yourself, but you don’t believe you get to feel that way. You’re projecting onto me,” you told him, taking your hand back.

Spencer flinched back, “Don’t profile me.”

“You, Spencer Reid, would never knowingly lay a hand on me,” you insisted, you believed it. You believed it even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The two of you sat in an angst-filled silence before he stood up straight, gently starting to usher you into the bedroom. Handing you a t-shirt from your drawer to change into, you could see his internal struggle as he grabbed a pillow from the bed and made his way toward the door.

Despondently, your shoulders slumped forward, “Where are you going?” You asked softly, hating to watch him leave your shared bedroom over this.

“I’m sleeping on the couch. I’m gonna… I’ll try to set up a meeting with my therapist in the morning. I just…” his voice trailed off as he looked at you with wide, sad eyes, “You’re okay?”

Your heart ached at his voice as you nodded, opening your arms for him and letting out a sigh of relief when he returned to you for a hug. Reaching your free hand behind him, you rubbed his back comfortingly, “We’re going to make it through this, mark my words.”

He nodded in affirmation as he pulled away, “For my own peace of mind, I’ll sleep on the couch for a while.”

You accepted it, knowing that he needed to deal with this in his own way, he closed the door behind him, effectively leaving you alone. Laying back on the pillows with your icepack still clutched to your face, you sighed, wondering how long it had been since your boyfriend felt any semblance of peace of mind.

[gracieheartspedro]

Dagger In The Heart

pairing: ellie williams x afab! reader

post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.

word count: 6.1k words

warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.

description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.

author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;

“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”

He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.  

You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen. 

At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him. 

It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could. 

He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.

You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys. 

You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable. 

He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance. 

His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you. 

“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands. 

You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”

“Come meet the crew!”

Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom. 

The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend. 

His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept. 

His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you. 

When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room. 

She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty. 

You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”

You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen. 

“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”

You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”

“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”

Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister. 

Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”

-

Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated. 

But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink. 

He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit. 

You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often. 

“So, you and Matt met in science class?”

You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”

“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”

“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”

You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one. 

No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?

She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”

You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot. 

You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.

“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”

She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms. 

Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”

“Why not?”

She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you. 

“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”

Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!

“Your… boobs are tattooed?”

She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”

The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight. 

Sure.

But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?

“What if your family wasn’t around?”

Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg. 

“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months. 

You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”

She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”

“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”

Now you are just lying. 

Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away. 

-

You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table. 

Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship. 

You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang. 

“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him. 

“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”

You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”

“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”

Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”. 

God, he made you feel terrible about yourself. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.

Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you. 

“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”

-

Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”

He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief. 

When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs. 

“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase. 

You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie. 

You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.

“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”

The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you. 

She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry. 

“Let’s see what you fit into!”

She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry. 

She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you. 

“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“

“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”

“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”

You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much. 

She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply. 

“Loose.”

She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in. 

“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”

You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”

“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you. 

“Goodnight, girls!”

And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it. 

“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”

You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”

You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track. 

The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago. 

You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly. 

“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas. 

You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly. 

“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”

You swallow, “Jealous?”

“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”

You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?

“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”

“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”

She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances. 

“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”

Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head. 

“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”

You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.

Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just. 

The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.

“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it. 

She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”

You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you. 

“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”

“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Is he mean to you all the time?”

You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway. 

“Most of the time.”

“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”

You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?

So you shrug.

Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment. 

“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”

“Ellie, I d-”

“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”

You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first. 

“Show me now.”

You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes. 

“Are you sure about that?”

Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.

Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.

Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating. 

She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips. 

Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”

Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.

Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola. 

You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.

“Holy shit, Ellie.”

You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself. 

Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before. 

She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.

“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already. 

You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you. 

“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out. 

You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them. 

“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”

You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way. 

She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more. 

“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”

You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it. 

You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating. 

“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”

Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”

“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”

You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time. 

She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward. 

Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it. 

You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty. 

“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”

“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good. 

When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.

You think your heart is going to stop beating. 

Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.

“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted. 

Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”

She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones. 

You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut. 

“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”

You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”

She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”

You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you. 

You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action. 

“God, that cunt is so pretty.”

You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right. 

“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips. 

“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”

You halt your movements, “Ride him?”

“You’ve never ridden him before?”

Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories. 

She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure. 

“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”

The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious. 

“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.

“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips. 

You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets. 

“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.

“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. You hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.

“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”

You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”

Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and starts to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response. 

“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes, Ellie, fuck!” 

She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself. 

“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”

You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences. 

“Jesus Christ…”

“It feels so good…”

“I want this pussy forever…”

You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high. 

“That was per-”

“Babe!!”

Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.

You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps. 

You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room. 

He’s drunk. 

“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.

“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum. 

While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew. 

“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.

He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse. 

“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.  

You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat. 

“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room. 

You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”

Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”

You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”

When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda. 

Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality. 

“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder. 

Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”

She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”

“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”

-

taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)

@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna

[gothicgaycowboy]

𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.1k

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you make Aemond’s longtime librarian fantasy come to life.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 18+ no minors, fem dom, sub aemond, a cock ring, oral sex (m receiving), deep throating, role play (kinda), unprotected sex, creampie, no use of y/n, edging (m receiving), both reader and aemond are little losers, established relationship, pet names, embarrassing family dinner conversations, a cameo from aemond’s lesbian moms and aegon.

𝙖/𝙣: this was originally going to be the beginning of my kinktober but I didn’t even get a chance to write out any of my other ideas in time. also big thank you to this anon who inspired this fic. hope you enjoy 💋

Up until now you thought you and your boyfriend had no secrets between you, but as it turns out you were wrong.

It started a week ago, you and Aemond drove up the countryside for a weekend to visit his family for Alicent’s birthday. Everyone tried their best to make it up there for big celebrations.

After three years together you feel like a member of the family yourself, Alicent and Rhaenyra even refer to you as their second daughter. You feel more at home with them than you do with your own family — and more importantly you felt like they couldn’t shock you anymore. That lasted until dinner.

Aegon and Aemond had gotten into a tiff about something juvenile that you can’t even remember anymore. Words tossed back and forth at one another from across the table like a tennis match. Rhaenyra was about to interject when Aegon blurted out: “Did you ever tell your sweetheart about what you did with my rag mag?”

Now that caught your attention.

Aemond’s face became beet red. His eyes practically bulged out of his skull in fear. Aegon smiled cockily at his brother’s expression, poking a forkful of their mothers dinner into his mouth.

Alicent and Rhaenyra tried to object to this conversation as soon as the word ‘rag mag’ was tossed out, but were cut short by your boyfriend.

“You wouldn’t.” It was clear Aemond was attempting to sound intimidating when it was obvious to everyone else he was fearing for his life.

“Oh, but I really would.” You vaguely remember overhearing Rhaenyra warn Alicent to cover her ears. Aegon turned his full attention to you, his eyes locked with yours. “When your precious boyfriend was still shorter than me he snuck into my room, snooped through my collection, and ripped out the naughty librarian spread all for himself.”

For the first time since you had met him Aemond became shy. You didn’t quite understand why exactly. Your boyfriend was no saint when it came to sex. He was the one who suggested most of your perverted ventures thus far, so why had he never told you this story himself?

After the table was cleared and conversation changed Aemond popped outside to take a quick smoke break — the perfect opportunity for you to interrogate Aegon a little more. You slid beside him as he washed that night's dishes like the good little son he can be occasionally.

“What was all that about?”

He glanced up at you briefly from the task in front of him. “What was all what about?”

“You know…” you suddenly realised how humiliating it was to talk about sex related topics with your boyfriend's brother. “The magazine drama?”

A knowing smirk crossed the​ Targaryen’s lips. “Ah, you want to know why Aemond threw such a fit about his little secret being outed.” He placed a white salad bowl onto the drying rack before facing you. “Well there are a few theories I have about it — first and most simple of all: maybe he was just embarrassed to have his middle school perversions exposed to our parents. I’m not too convinced by that one though given the simple fact that you two have been fucking at practically every family event you have been invited to thus far.”

It was then your turn for your cheeks to heat up with embarrassment, the memory of being caught half naked by Rhaenyra in the shoe closet still haunts you.

“So that leads me to my second theory: he’s ashamed of you knowing about his librarian fetish.”

Your brows pinched together quizzically. “But that doesn’t make any sense, we’ve done way crazier things together than a little kinky roleplay.”

Aegon closed his eyes and let out a long exhale like he was about to be sick. “I can’t express to you how much I didn’t want to know that.” You smiled at him apologetically letting out a timid ‘sorry’.

The purple eyed boy rubbed at his temples before opening his eyes again. “Okay, I’m probably gonna throw up later and really regret asking you this but: have you ever been in charge? Ya know, taken on the reins while you two are…” He held his hand over his stomach dramatically. “Having sex?”

your gaze remained on the clean kitchen floor as you answered his question. “No…”

“Well there you go, now if you’ll excuse me I need to go drink this conversation from my memory.”

Since that night you have been on a mission: make Aemond’s fantasy come to life.

It started like all good missions did — with a bit of thorough research of course. Aemond is a stickler for details and you needed all of them if you were going to pull this off successfully. The magazine from all the detail you managed to pull out of poor Aegon was a Hustler and based on the years Aemond would have been in middle school you managed to comb through every edition of Hustler during that time until you found it: the librarian spread.

This took you to the next step in your plan: the outfit. There wasn’t really much to it, obviously most of it was pulled off the models body in favour of showing off what was underneath, but you focused on what remained. Petite framed glasses, a white button up (tossed aside on the desk she sat on but you figured she was probably wearing it at some point in time), black pencil skirt, stockings, garter belt, and most importantly no panties.

All of this planning and waiting had finally led up to today. You have a day off to get your shit in order and Aemond’s shift ends early. You are quite proud of yourself honestly. Who knew being a research nerd could come in handy in the bedroom?

Now it was just time to see if Aemond appreciates it as much as you do.

From your spot in the kitchen you hear your boyfriend's keys enter the lock to your apartment – your cue to bolt into the bedroom. Inside the bedroom your heart races, nerves suddenly getting the best of you. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thinks you’re trying to belittle him? What if he thinks you look stupid?

“Baby?” Aemond calls from inside the main hallway.

“In the bedroom!” Well there was no going back now. Fuck it. You press play on the playlist you curated and pose yourself sitting on top of Aemond’s desk, just like the picture.

The door creaks open, revealing the white haired man to you. For a second he doesn’t look up, good eye still locked onto his phone. “What’s with the mu–” His eye meets with yours and stops him in his tracks. The bag he is carrying falls off his shoulder. The way he blushed at the birthday dinner has nothing on the state of his face now.

A few long moments pass by and the two of you remain perfectly still. It makes the knot in your stomach worse. “Please say something.” You beg as Aemond remains gobsmacked.

“You– how did – wh – you look–” He babbles like a small child.

“Please make it intelligible.” you try to lighten the mood as your hands play with each other anxiously.

It seems to shake Aemond out of his idiotict trance. “You look like the librarian from my magazine.”

“I do.” You change your tone to sound calm and collected while feeling like you’re about to explode inside.

“Why?”

“I thought you might appreciate it if I initiated something for once.”

Aemond soaks in the vision before him giving you a swift up and down glance. The pit continues growing in you but you refuse to let it show. “Do you?” You ask, impersonating all those sexually confident people you’ve seen in movies.

“I do.” Thank fuck.

Aemond rips the jacket from off his shoulders, practically running across the bedroom to reach you. He pulls you up off the desk but before he has the chance to kiss you you put a stop to him. Both hands push his face away but remain holding it so he’s forced to look at you. “Not so fast there mister.”

His face is priceless, a perfect mixture of confusion and desperation. “From now on I’m in charge, alright? You are going to lay there like the good boy I know you can be, while the sweet little librarian takes good care of you, understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” His pupil dilates so wide you can hardly see the usual violet colour of his iris.

“Yes you understand who?”

A surprise smirk graces your boyfriend's beautiful face. “Yes, I understand…ma’am.”

“Good, now take off your clothes and get on the bed.” In a flash Aemond’s clothes came flying off you like you have never seen before. You knew this would get him worked up but you did not expect him to be this into it.

As the Targaryen’s boxers hit the floor and he hits the plush mattress you pull open a bag holding your secret weapon for the night. With the ‘weapon’ hiding behind your back you move up the bed straddling his muscular thigh, sitting your bare cunt directly on his skin. His already hard cock twitches with excitement. “Fuck me, are you not wearing any–?”

“No.” you say plainly, like you did this everyday. “Now I’ve got a little something special for you before I completely blow your mind.”

“I really don’t see this getting better than it is but if you say so,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I trust you.”

From behind you you reveal it: a black rubber cock ring. “I wanna see you squirm.”

Aemond’s silver-blonde locks splay out onto the pillows as he plops his head back onto the pillows. “You are trying to kill me, woman.” He groans.

“Oh you love it.” With that you wrap your manicured hand around his cock, stretching the black rubber around the base.Your boyfriend jumps slightly at the contact. “How’s it feel?”

“Wonderful, now can we get on with the main event, please?”

“Don’t forget baby, you’re not the one calling the shots tonight. Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you.”

“Always.” He smiles. You can’t help yourself against his charms, flopping onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips. He wastes no time reciprocating it, taking the kiss from zero to a hundred faster than you can snap your fingers. His tongue slithering its way into your mouth. Your moans vibrated against his lips. Aemond was definitely the best kisser out of all the guys you had been with.

You reach your right hand up pushing it between the two of you, separating your lips. Aemond is clearly about to protest as you cut him off. “Spit.” No bullshit, just straight to the point. Based on the focused expression on his face the dots are taking their sweet time to connect in his pretty little head. Then it clicks and Aemond looks like a kid in a candy shop. He leans over your palm, saliva dripping down into your hand.

As the spit sinks across your palm you reach down to rub the wetness around his throbbing cock, stroking him up and down painfully slowly. Your other hand makes its way to his heavy balls, massaging them delicately in between your fingers.

You always loved playing with Aemond’s cock, but you were never allowed to take your time with it. It’s the one thing you despise about your boyfriend constantly being the one in charge. This was your time to truly tease him like he had been teasing you since you got together.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” You eye him over the glasses perched on your nose.

“Fuck yes!” Aemond yelps with pure euphoria.

“You kiss your mothers with that mouth?” You continue your teasing, the sound of the shucking filling the bedroom.

“No but I really wanna kiss you again — ma’am.” You appreciate that even though he was struggling through it he still uses your proper title.

“Come here baby.” Like a man starved Aemond pushes himself up to meet your lips once more. Now was your chance. With Aemond distracted by the kiss you slowly pull away your hand from his sack to grab the remote for the cock ring off the dresser. Time to hope he enjoys this little extra surprise.

Bzzz…

Aemonds hips slam up into your fist in shock. “Jesus- fuck!”

“Now you know how I feel, huh?” You say recalling all the times that the blonde had used your vibrators on you.

The vibrations make his rod jump, shaking so fast your eyes can’t even comprehend its moving at all. God it’s hot. It had become far too normal for Aemond to watch you shake and your eyes roll back into your head with ecstasy but never you with him. It makes you feel powerful.

“F-feels so fucking good—” Aemond struggles to be coherent through the throws of pleasure.

Your hands pick up the pace, tightening your grip around him. His eyes are becoming more and more glassy as the moments pass by. Settling down till your stomach touches your knees, skirt (barely) coved ass poking out to the air. You kiss your way down his chest, leaving lipstick marks as you go until you reach the base of his vibrating cock.

Your mind swarms with ideas of how you can possibly torture him, but you decide against anymore prolonged suffering because of how desperately you need him in your mouth. You lick your way up to his leaking tip, keeping eye contact the entire time.

You run your hands over the sides of his hips as you suck the tip into your mouth. Preparing yourself with a deep breath through your nose, you dive down, deepthroating the rest of him into your throat. The tip of your nose touched the smooth base of his pubic bone. He always filled your holes so perfectly.

The sounds of your throat bobbing over him mixed with muted vibrations and Aemond’s moans make your cunt pulsate. You and Aemond are not new to dirty but something about this type of dirty got you going in a way you have never felt before.

“I’m gonna come—fuck! I’m gonna come down your perfect throat—” That is all you need to hear to pull yourself away from him (as much as you hate to).

Wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth you press the button on the remote of the cock ring, turning the vibrations off. Aemond whines like a scorned child. A sound you're not familiar with from him, but you could picture yourself getting used to.

“Did you really think that I was going to let you come that fast? I need to make you earn it first, baby.”

He looks up at you, begging. “How? Please just tell me how I’ll do anything, I just need to be inside you. I wanna be your good boy.” His voice cracks like he’s on the brink of tears.

“You have to address me properly.”

“Anything for you ma’am.”

“Now, beg.” You tug the base of his cock into your hands, jerking him off like you were in no rush.

“Please…?” His brows knit together like a kicked puppy.

You halt your movements and grip your boyfriend’s length, not enough to actually hurt him, just enough to make Aemond whine once more. “God do you even want me to fuck you? I said beg.” You say while pulling the almost sheer white top from your body, leaving the skirt and stockings in their place though.

“Please fuck ma’am? I promise I’ll be good for you, I need to be inside of you so bad. I love your cunt so much, I need it around me. I need to feel you come on me, please?”

“Aw, look at that, you are my good boy after all.” With that you are fully on top of him. Hands planted onto his firm chest while you lean forward to tug your skirt up, revealing the lack of underwear beneath them. With his eyes thoroughly distracted by your bare cunt you pull his aching tip inside of your soaking wet entrance.

You had sex not two days before now but somehow the stretch of Aemond inside was still a shock to your system. Maybe it’s because you had never had him like this, crying below you like just being inside you was already the greatest pleasure he could experience.

“Jesus—Christ!”

You take your time adjusting to him, gradually sinking lower towards his abdomen. Your clit grazes the black silicone, alerting you that you’ve reached the bottom. Pushing yourself all the way back up to his tip you slam down as you speak. “Did all that begging make your cock harder, Aem? Do you like begging for me?”

“So much…” The words are almost inaudible through his moans.

“You don’t come until I let you, understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

It only eggs you on more. The sound of wet skin smacking and whimpering fill your ears. No thoughts pass through either of your heads.

The rocking of your hips became more frantic, desperate. Your soft wet walls hugging your boyfriend like a vice. Aemond’s reach up into the pillows, gripping so hard they change from pink to white instantly.

Your mask begins to fall at the pleasure building in your core. Legs shaking at either side of Aemond’s hips. Just like that you pull the blonde up from his horizontal position, his grip falling from the pillows. Lips crashing together in a blur as sweat pools down both your backs. “I’m so fucking close, can I come, please?” His begging is muffled against your mouth.

“Soon, I promise. Rub my clit for me baby?” He obeyed immediately. His pointer and index finger caressing against your pulsing clit. “Fuck yes! so good Aem.” Your hands wander to his hair, like you are the master and he’s your little puppet.

You can’t hold back anymore, the sensation of his lips against yours mixed with Aemond’s precise movements against your bud send you hurdling towards your orgasm. “M’coming, come for me aem, do it for me baby—” Aemond follows fast behind you, crying out your name as he reaches his peak. His cock painting your insides with his cum.

You come back down to earth together, a jumble of words spilling from both of your lips: I love you, thank you, so good, kiss me.

You collapse into a puddle on your boyfriend’s sweat soaked chest. His fingers travel through your hair as you both catch your breath. As he tucks the lock behind your ears he finally speaks coherently. “So, are you gonna tell me how you managed to replicate the exact outfit from the original photo I used to wank off to or…?”

You smile, lifting your head to face him and his pink flushed cheeks. “A great magician never reveals their secrets.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

You're having a bad day so they do their own version of Magic Mike for you

ANON! This ask sent me into a fit of giggles. I am so happy to do this. I had a lot of fun putting together some quick writes. I know you've been waiting a while. I hope you have a good laugh out of this, and maybe even giggle and/or kick your feet with glee. I know I did!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings: swearing, suggestive themes, dancing, singing, striptease, lap dance, brief non-descriptive nudity

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Everything okay, love?" asks John from the bathroom.

"Just a headache," you reply. "Had a busy day."

"Busy? Or bad?"

He knows you too well.

"Bad," you sigh, propping yourself up on an elbow.

John is no longer in the bathroom. He stands inside the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with one hand.

Freshly showered. Towel hanging on his hips.

"What?" you ask, noticing the smirk on his face.

John lightly pushes off from the doorframe. In a sultry sway, John begins to approach you, both hands reaching as if to undo the towel.

"John?"

He doesn't drop the towel, just teases the undressing. Your face grows hot as he nears. John comes to a stop just in front of you, the towel still perched on his hips.

"Go on," he purrs with a heated stare.

You tug and the towel falls away.

"Plan to fuck away my headache?" you cough out, gaze darting upward, focusing on his face and not what’s behind the towel.

John grabs your forearm, helping you to a seated position. "Not yet." He places one knee beside you on the bed. John holds your chin with thumb and forefinger. "No touching until I say so."

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"I’ve had a bad day," you sigh. “I’m tired.”

Turning your head away from Simon, you glance out the window.

As you exhale, something soft and large lands on your head. You yank it away. It's Simon's shirt. As you turn to address him, something else comes flying in your direction.

With a yelp, you snag it out of the air before it hits you. Simon's jeans. Belt included.

"What—"

Simon stands ramrod straight with arms at his sides in nothing but his boxer briefs and socks.

Perplexed, you fail to form words as Simon starts to saunter over to you. It’s stilted. Odd. The man has no rhythm but clearly all the confidence in the world.

"Oh my God," you murmur, clutching Simon's clothes to your chest, sinking further into the couch.

He's trying. He really is. But all you can focus on is how intense Simon’s face is, and how stiffly he…dances?

"Are you okay?" you ask.

Simon blinks. Frowns. "Yes." He glances down at himself. "Do you not like this?"

Whatever foul mood you were in has vanished, replaced with soft amusement and disbelief.

“Just…cuddle with me on the couch.”

“Clothes off?”

“Clothes off,” you confirm.

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

When you glance up, Johnny has a devilish grin on his face.

"What?" you ask cautiously.

Johnny pushes off from the kitchen counter and reaches over his head, removing his shirt. Your mind promptly forgets its previous concern. All it cares about is Johnny's broad chest and muscled stomach.

"What are you doing?" you laugh as Johnny twists the shirt and grabs either end, placing it behind your neck.

"Helping," he coos.

Now in only grey sweatpants, Johnny pushes in. You lean back, a bit startled.

"Helping how?" you giggle.

Johnny rocks his hips, swaying them slightly in a semi-erotic rotation.

"You look ridiculous."

"Maybe,” he agrees. “But you're smiling."

You are. To the point that your cheeks ache.

"I could keep going," he teases, rolling his hips again.

You playfully push at his stomach and Johnny takes that moment to sink down into your lap. "Nope," you laugh. “Absolutely not."

Johnny does an exaggeratingly awful impression of a lap dance. It sends you into a fit of giggles, and he doesn't stop until you're wheezing.

"Better?" he teases.

The bad mood is gone.

"Much."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"My brain is static," you groan. Kyle grins and starts to hum. "What are you doing?"

He saunters over to you, the humming turning into singing.

"Is that Pony by Ginuwine?" you laugh, disbelieving.

“Girl, when I break you off,” he continues to sing, removing his shirt, spinning it over his head like a lasso. “I promise that you won't want to get off.”

"Oh my god," you mutter, covering your face, cheeks flaring hot.

You peek through your fingers only for Kyle to toss the shirt at you. It lands above your head.

“If you’re horny, let’s do it,” he sings, reaching for the front of his pants. “Ride it.”

Your mouth is open, staring at Kyle as more of his clothes disappear. He’s in nothing but boxer briefs. Placing his foot on the couch, his hips flex forward, giving you a clear view of what’s beneath the fabric.

"Stop," you giggle, covering your eyes with one hand. The other extends to cover his junk.

Kyle takes your wrist and draws your palm to his chiseled stomach. "How are you feeling now?"

The static is gone, replaced with a soft affection that warms your everywhere.

"I'm better,” you laugh.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

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@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[zevrra]

Hii, i saw u were looking for requests and I was wondering if u could do a jjk x reader (any character is fine) where they get body swapped by a curse and decide to get freaky

[BODY?¿SWAP]

tags: 18(+) only!!, suggestive content, semi-nsfw, some dirty talk, gojo x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, one-shot, anon request

creator notes: thank you so much for the request anon! i couldn’t decide which pov i liked the most so i wrote both of them kshsjs. hope you enjoy! ♡

It was all Gojo’s fault. You were cautious and always careful when on missions. Yet somehow, this one time he distracted you a little too much with his constant flirting and now you’re stuck in his body while he was stuck inside of yours. It was obviously strange. His long arms and legs. The muscles underlying his skin. And the most obvious, different genitalia.

And it was still all Gojo’s fault what you two were doing right now. He insisted he wanted to know what it was like, doing it, in your body. Said he wanted to know how good he made you feel and what he could do differently to make you feel even better. And seeing as how you two were body swapped for the moment, it was the perfect time for a little experiment.

“God,” Gojo groans. Using your body to fuck himself on his own dick.

You can barely keep your eyes open. Out of embarrassment of watching your body move so erotically but also the fact it felt…good. Really good. It was a completely different pleasure than you were used to. Pleasure that was white hot to the point it made even your soul tingle.

“No wonder you’re always a mess when I fuck you.” Gojo pridefully says.

Of course he was thinking so highly of himself. You both knew your sex life was fantastic and this little ‘experiment’ was just further proving his point. But now he’d never shut up about it. You could already see him bringing it up every chance he gets. How your stomach tightens with every thrust of his cock. He’ll speak of how your pussy was made specifically to take the shape of him. Any time he wants to tease you, to make your face flush, he’ll just speak of how many times you cum with him deep inside.

You whine, moving your hands to hide your, his, drastically red face. “Shut up, please.”

Gojo laughs wickedly. Even as he pants heavily with each roll of the hips that he controls. His, your, hands run up the front of his chest. Feeling every detail he can while he is stuck inside your body.

“Mhm, at least I know—fuck—that I fuck you good. Your body is damn sensitive.” He teases, making it a point to grind himself down. The motion causes you to groan.

“Well, I must make you feel real good too cause your body is just as hot.” You shoot back. A broken up moan tumbling from your lips.

He chuckles at your remark. Biting at his bottom lip as he clenches around the dick you currently have deep inside of him. “You’re right,” He smirks. You can tell from the sound of his voice he’s up to no good. “Just makes me wanna fuck ya some more.”

It was going to be a very long night.

It was your idea. Body swapped by some cursed technique, hours later, and you wanted to show the love of your life how good he was to you. How amazing he made you feel every time you two lay together. Suggesting a more physical example to show him in a way words could not describe.

“Nanami,” You hum softly. Standing tall inside of his body. Watching as you move his cock inside of your body. Slowly slipping every inch in and out. Making sure he felt the pleasure he gives you. “Can you feel it? This is what I feel every time we make love.” You whisper.

Nanami lies beneath you. His, well really your, legs are wrapped around the waist you currently inhabit. You can feel him tremble at the words you speak. Watching your own face twist in pleasure and concentration. Makes you smile as you know he’s feeling good. Nanami may not be able to confirm your thoughts for the moment but you know he’s getting a nice grasp of what you go through every time he fucks you.

Doesn’t stop you from teasing him a little.

“I usually feel it really deep right here,” You hum. Moving one of his large hands across your body’s abdomen. Pressing ever so slightly in an area on your lower tummy where you know it’s sensitive.

Nanami gasps at the sensation. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath him so hard that you’re afraid he might tear the fabric. His mouth falls open as he cries out in pleasure. “Fuck!” He gasps, sucking in whatever air he could through his teeth. You knew what he was feeling all too well. The countless times he had fucked you senseless into the mattress, leaving you just as speechless as he was now.

“F-fuck,” He whimpers again. Muttering something about slowing down but you can’t. Not yet. You needed him to keep feeling good. Needed him to reach his climax and see the stars you’re so use to seeing on the other end.

After all of this, you only hope he realizes how good of a man he truly is. “Mmm, I love you.” You say with a chuckle. Watching as Nanami struggles beneath you, making your body shudder in pleasure. Wondering how many times had he watched you from this exact position and thought how pretty you must’ve looked.

Now at least both of you got to see each other from the other point of view. Maybe body swapping wasn’t so bad after all.

[edges-of-night]

Hello, hope this message finds you well! I would like to request (if the idea interests you of course) the fellowship responding to the reader asking “would you still love me if I was a worm/toad?”

What an inspired idea, anon haha! This one was fun to think about; hopefully it’s just as much fun to read! Enjoy ♡

･ﾟ✧ Aragorn.

Even though you asked him out of nowhere, Aragorn considers your questions rather seriously. Sitting by a fire with you, it takes him a while to answer: “Why wouldn’t I?” It should’ve been obvious to you that a ranger – and one as kind and gentle-hearted as him! – would naturally see beauty in every creature, no matter its general reputation. To him, it’s not a question.

.

･ﾟ✧ Boromir.

Boromir would shoot you a confused smile when you asked him your question. “What? Why would you turn into a worm…?” You’d blush and explain it to him, which would make him laugh in relief. “Why worry about such nonsense?” – “What, me turning into a worm?” – “No, silly! Me not loving you!” he’d say and pull you close for a kiss ♡ (He’d probably still worry about the sudden question because he cares for you that much haha!)

.

･ﾟ✧ Frodo.

When you ask Frodo your question, it catches him off-guard. He’d look up from his book and ask you to repeat, even though he was already listening carefully. But the question has him double-checking! Your adorable explanation makes him laugh. He’d take your hands and say, “The things you think about! If you ever manage to turn yourself into a worm, you must turn me as well, so that we may live happy lives in our worm-house underground.”

.

･ﾟ✧ Gandalf.

Gandalf smokes his pipe when you ask him your question and smacks his lips as he contemplates the scenario. “A curious proposition…” For a moment, the furrow of his bushy eyebrows makes it look like he was about to scold you for your nonsense, but then he’d shoot you a playful smirk and assure you that yes, if you were to turn into a worm, he would still love you all the same.

.

･ﾟ✧ Gimli.

You ask Gimli your question at a late-night banquet, making him pause and laugh. “I do not know if a worm would want to live in stone though! Wouldn’t you leave for grassier, muddier grounds? What would a worm want with a Dwarf?” Just like that, he has turned your question around! The ensuing nonsense conversation makes it certain: The two of you are inseparable ♡

.

･ﾟ✧ Legolas.

Legolas is a very playful Elf and enjoys the games and riddles you two tend to play, so your question would not come entirely out of the blue for him. He would tilt his head and pout, pretending to consider it gravely. “A worm? A creature so foul and tiny and all too disagreeable?” – his face splits into a grin – “Why yes, of course!” Additionally, he’d incorporate “little worm” into his endless list of pet names for you.

.

･ﾟ✧ Merry.

Your question to Merry would probably come up during one of your philosophical conversations. But instead of stopping Merry dead in his tracks, he’d simply answer, “Yes, next question.” To him, it genuinely is not up for debate if changing your appearance would impact his feelings for you. When you dig deeper, he’d probably say something like, “I’d have to get used to it, but that’s it” and grin at you.

.

･ﾟ✧ Pippin.

Let’s be honest: The question would probably come from Pippin in the first place. Maybe he had watched a worm or a toad travelling through a meadow nearby, or even overheard other Hobbits asking their partner about the dreaded scenario. He keeps wondering if he’d still be lovable as a worm but leaves no doubt should that fate befall you: This Hobbit loves you to the moon and back!

.

･ﾟ✧ Sam.

No contest: Sam Gamgee wins this one by a mile. When you ask him, no matter how unsurely, he’d cross his arms with a thoughtful sigh and start his answer by explaining how important worms are in the circle of nature to keep the ground and gardens alive. “And that’s just that, y’know? I don’t have to find ‘em beautiful, but I’d simply be lost without them. And if it was you, oh, y’know, there’d be no question about it. I’d tinker with a bit of wood to make you an indoor garden, so you have some dirt to crawl in even when we’re inside the house. Something I can carry around. And somethin’ to eat. Unless you don’t want to. I’d bring you the good dirt from Farmer Maggot, and some apples, too. Your favourite flowers must be there too, so that’s – hm? What’re smilin’ at me like that for? You asked the question…”

[robinsfilm]

TOUNGE TIED

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ reader ;

SYNOPSIS: hidden away in a library, you bask in seeing that pink hue on jason's cheeks ;

ANON ASKED: " Reader teasing Jason over his blushing. You can decide whether they're in an established or pre-established relationship. " ;

WORD COUNT: 0.9k ;

NOTES: took a while to get this request done, not because the writing took some time, it was just because this is my first ever time getting actual requests, so i am all over the place with this. in this work reader and jason aren't in a relationship yet. thank you anon for the request <3

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

A SUBTLE TINGLING OF THE BELL SHIMMERED IN THE AIR. The old smell of book pages spreads through the small library. Its rusty brick outside, snuggled between two towering buildings, had caught Jason's eye during patrol a few days ago.

He contemplated asking you if you'd like to visit the little, small haven he had found. Every time the thought crossed his mind, a warm feeling spread through his body; his cheeks felt hot and his hands shaky.

Weird, but now that doesn't matter.

What matters is that somehow you both were in the doorway of the said library.

Your eyes darted around the room laid in front of you, curiosity obvious in your gaze. The library had truly had a homey, cozy feeling to it. Your hand grazed Jason's as you pointed out a decoration on the wall next to the two of you, though Jason's mind was preoccupied by the small touch of your hand on his.

Was it silly, he thought, that even a single graze had him tripping over his words?

The same warmth spreads through him now as it did then when he thought of ways to bring you here; what do I say to them? Should I label this as a date? Or is that too soon?

He remembers mentioning the small library when you piped up and suggested both of you visited the place.

“C’mon, Jaybeans! It’ll be fun. You and me.” You and me.

You took the words out of his mouth, literally. Answer, goddamn it!

“Yes!” he says, a bit too loud. You tilt your head, a smirk appearing on your face.

Oh, he wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face. With a kiss, preferably. You'd have a field day teasing him for that as well. He can’t really seem to mind; a kiss from you seems worth it.

He's forced to snap out of his daydream when he hears your melodic voice ring out in his ears.

“Earth to Jason,” you quip, not before raising a brow, “what's got you all quiet? You seem nervous.”

Goddamn you and how well you know him and his tells.

“Nothing,” he stammers as he answers, “now, let's go in.”

The warmth of the library makes both of you feel the unforgiving cold of the Gotham weather. The freezing hands hidden in pockets slowly peeking out, faces hiding under scarves poking out.

More accurately, his face pokes out from the scarf wrapped around him. Your scarf, he should add on that.

He almost stopped dead in his tracks when you turned to him and wrapped the fluffy, crocheted by hand scarf around him.

You scolded him about dressing appropriately for the weather. He should have been listening; god knows he hangs onto every word you say, but at that moment every sound was lost on him.

The saccharine-intoxicating smell of the fabric engulfed him wholly.

You eyed him a moment then, eyes squinting as if taking every detail of him, before you muttered just for him to hear.

“It looks good on you.”

Jason feels his cheeks grow hot—too hot, his palms grow sweaty. God, when did it get so hot?

The last thing he remembers seeing is your face breaking into a proud smile.

He hopes you won't ask for the scarf back, he thinks as he gathers both of your coats to set on the rack.

The book shelves fill the entire library so much that there's barely any space for the two of you. You don't seem to mind, he notes, as you drag him down the shelves, bodies close.

He runs his hand through his hair nervously, black and white steaks getting caught between his fingers. He has styled it. Did you notice, he thinks? Does he want you to notice?

Yes, he concludes, he does.

“Hm,” you hum, “I’ve been planning on reading Emma since you mentioned it.” You remembered that? He thinks as you look through the books to find your desired one.

‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.’

He remembers that single quote; it rings over in his mind repeatedly.

Get it together, Jason, he scolds himself.

“It has ‘the I-am-going-to-scoop-my-heart-out-with-a-spoon level romance of Pride & Prejudice’” he muses.

“It better not be like Mansfield Park,” you puff. “Jane, I'm not mad; I’m just disappointed.”

His laugh slipped out, low and warm. You take in the sight in front of you: his laugh; his smile, his eyes smiling alongside with it; the scrunching of his nose.

It’s truly a heavenly sight.

Oh, only if you could tell him.

“You should laugh more,” you simply say. It’ll do for now; it’ll do until he gives you the okay, the okay to tell him all of it.

You'll bask in his blushes and stutters as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“What?”

“You should laugh more,” you contemplate for a second, “and blush more.”

“You—” he huffs, “just get the book.” He tries to turn his head away from you, though the red on the tip of his ears is telling you all you need to know.

You'll wait; he'll wait as well.

Because all of this is worth the wait.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: FLASHBACK TIME !!!!!

prev

authors note: guys ive lowkey been picturing things as i would direct them in a film or music video so 😭 if my writing angle feels off then thats why. but i hoped u enjoyed anyway !! if u still arent on the tag list, feel free to let me know thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <33

you stepped out of the sleek black car, your heels clicking against the pavement as you’re greeted by a wall of flashing lights and the low hum of the press. the red carpet at the love, simon premiere was buzzing with excitement, packed with celebrities and industry professionals.

this wasn’t your first time walking a carpet, but it was different tonight—there was something in the air, an energy you couldn’t quite place, but it felt like just another event to get through.

you paused in front of the photographers, striking a few effortless poses. to everyone else, you looked like you were in your element—smiling, waving, and giving the cameras exactly what they wanted.

but inside, you were already thinking about when you could leave. you were there because the director was an old colleague from your recent work on tempest, your breakout role. it was your agent’s idea to make an appearance, to be seen and keep your name in the buzz, but you hadn’t really planned to stay long. just the premiere, maybe the afterparty, and then home.

as you moved down the carpet, a journalist caught your attention. “y/n, over here! a quick word?”

you nodded, stepping toward the microphone with a gracious smile. the flashing bulbs intensified as you answered questions about your latest projects, your outfit for the night, and how excited you were to see the film.

“you’ve been busy with tempest—how’s that going?” one interviewer asked.

you offered a polite smile. “it’s been great. we’re still filming season two, so it’s been pretty nonstop, but i’m thrilled to be here tonight to support this movie. i’ve heard such good things about love, simon.”

you kept your responses short but engaging, giving just enough without going too deep. after a few more quick exchanges, you excused yourself, nodding to your team as you made your way inside.

the grand theater lobby was filled with more celebrities and industry insiders, everyone dressed to the nines and mingling, but you were already scanning the room for a drink. maybe a glass of champagne woule make the night pass quicker.

your mind was preoccupied, already drifting toward the idea of heading inside early, when you felt yourself bump into someone. you glanced up, ready to offer a quick apology, but the words froze in your throat the second your eyes locked with his.

he was tall—taller than you expected—with broad shoulders, and his hair was just slightly tousled like he’d been running his hands through it all night. he’s startled at first, like he wasn’t paying attention either, but the moment his gaze met yours, there’s a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. maybe recognition. maybe awe.

his lips parted slightly, as if he’s about to say something, but he didn’t. instead, he just stared, clearly a little stunned. for a second, you felt like the noise of the room faded into the background, like it was just the two of you standing there.

“sorry about that,” you said first, stepping aside to give him room, your voice casual despite the strange pull you felt from his gaze.

he blinked, shaking his head quickly. “no, no, it’s my fault. wasn’t paying attention.” he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly flustered, and then finally added, “i’m drew, by the way. starkey— drew starkey.”

there was something familiar about the name, but it didn’f immediately click. “nice to meet you, drew,” you replied with a small smile. you glanced past him, ready to move on, but he didn’t make it easy. he was still looking at you, like he was trying to memorize your face, like he’d just seen something—someone—he didn’t want to forget.

“you’re—” he began, but then cut himself off, a little embarrassed. “i mean, i know who you are.”

you raised an eyebrow, curious now. “oh yeah?”

he nodded quickly. “yeah, you’re amazing on tempest. my sisters are obsessed with the show, but i started watching it, too, and— yeah, you’re great.”

his words tumbled out fast and you couldn’t help but be a little charmed by how genuine he sounded. he wasn’t smooth like some of the other people you’d met that night—he wasn’t trying to impress you with industry talk or big names. he was just . . . honest.

“well, thank you,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm a little. “that means a lot.”

there was a brief pause, and you could see him struggling for what to say next. the thing was, it wasn’t awkward—it was kind of endearing. finally, he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again. “sorry, i didn’t mean to fangirl or anything.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “don’t worry, you’re fine.”

he was still standing there, not moving away, and for some reason, you didn’t feel like walking off either. maybe it was the way he was looking at you, like he couldn’t believe he was even talking to you. it’s a look you’d seen before, but it felt different coming from him. there’s no agenda behind it. just . . . admiration.

“so,” you started, trying to keep the conversation going, “what brings you to the premiere?”

he blinked, like he’d forgotten why he was even there. “oh, uh, i’m actually in the movie.”

and that was when it clicked. drew starkey. you heard the name before, seen it in casting lists, but seeing him in person, you hadn’t put it together until now.

“right,” you said, nodding slowly. “that’s why you looked familiar.”

he chuckled softly, but there was still that slight blush on his cheeks. “yeah, that’s me.”

the conversation flowed a little easier after that. you asked him about the movie, and he asked you more about tempest, genuinely interested in your work, not just going through the motions like so many others do at those events. he was funny, too, in a shy, unassuming way that caught you off guard.

as the crowd around you thickened, his eyes never left yours, like he was completely captivated. you weren’t sure how long you stood there talking, but it was long enough for you to forget about slipping out early.

and then, before you knew it, the lights were dimming, signaling that the movie was about to start. he glanced toward the theater doors, then back at you, almost hesitant.

“well, i guess we should head in,” he said, sounding a little disappointed that your conversation was being cut short.

“yeah,” you agreed, though part of you didn’t want the night to end either. as you both moved toward the entrance, something pulled at you to say more, to affirm the spark that had ignited between you. you abruptly stopped in your tracks. he turned to face you, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“i’ll catch you at the afterparty?” you told him, your voice light and teasing. you watched his face break into a genuine smile, the kind that made his entire demeanor shift from nervous to gleeful.

with that, you turned and headed toward the theater doors, the buzz of chatter and laughter enveloping you. you could feel drew’s gaze lingering on you as you walked away.

you knew you weren’t on the cast so it would have been unexpected if you showed up. but you knew that he’d be there.

as you navigated through the crowd, you couldn’t help but glance back one last time, and in that instant, you caught drew watching you, his expression soft and hopeful. a faint smile tugged at your lips, and finally, you disappeared into the crowds of guests entering the theater, but the memory of his gaze stayed with you.

the afterparty was a vibrant swirl of lights and laughter, complete opposite to the behavior of the premiere just hours ago. you stood with leila, theo, and gia, the four of you navigating the home.

after a few minutes, you spotted him across the room, laughter dancing in his eyes as he talked to a small group. you excused yourself from your own conversation, weaving through the crowd until you found yourself standing beside him.

and soon, time seemed to slip away as you both dived into deeper conversations about your lives, your careers, and the dreams you’d harbored since childhood. drew opened up about his recent experiences filming, and you found yourself sharing the struggles and triumphs of your own journey in the film industry. every moment spent together felt natural, as if you’d known each other for much longer than just a few hours.

by the end of the night, the party winder down and guests began to trickle out. you exchanged numbers, both of you eager to see each other again. and you did. time and time again.

you paced around your apartment as you gestured animatedly. throwing your hands in the air, your eyes widened with passion, as if you were trying to grasp an idea that was just out of reach. drew leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching you intently with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“i just wanna have some time to go out there and have some fun,” you were telling him, “be there in the moment, explore la. not with any paparazzi there to demand photos of me or take them when i have my guard down. just me and the city.”

as you spoke, your gaze shifted toward the window, where the sun peeked through the window across your living room. you imagined yourself outside, feeling the sun on your skin, surrounded by the pulse of los angeles.

spinning around quickly, your face lit up like you’d just had a revelation. “like starstruck!”

“starstruck?” drew echoed as he squinted his eyes, trying to grasp your idea.

“yeah, you know that one movie on disney? christopher and jessica are running around los angeles in that one scene—” you continued.

“—before they get their car caught in that mud and christopher ditches her at the beach,” he interjected with furrowed brows, knowing full well how the scene played out.

you stopped abruptly, narrowing your eyes at him. you tilted your head, “you wouldn’t ditch me, would you, star?”

drew shook his head, “no way.”

satisfied with his answer, your expression brightened again, and you nodded vigorously. “good. then come on.”

you grabbed your keys from the table and practically dragged him out of your apartment. the door clicked shut behind you, and you led the way down the corridor.

as you made your way into the parking garage, your laughter rung out, echoing off the concrete walls. when you reached your car, you slid in and grabbed your sunglasses from its compartment to slide them on.

drew chuckled as he put his seatbelt on, shaking his head in disbelief. “you really have a plan for everything, don’t you?”

“only when it comes to having fun,” you replied, your grin widening as you pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head to shield his face. “don’t worry, they’ll never see us coming,” you assured him, your laughter infectious as you started the engine and pulled out of the parking garage.

and over the course of a year, you and drew became inseparable. what started as stolen moments during movie premieres and secret hangouts morphed into a deep, unshakeable friendship.

laughter echoed in your shared memories—late-night talks sprawled on the floor of your apartment, spontaneous adventures through the streets of los angeles, and lazy mornings spent in bed, wrapped up in each other's warmth.

as the seasons shifted, so did the nature of your connection. the boundaries blurred, and your heart raced at the thought of what could be. but you both chose to keep it light, enjoying each moment without the weight of labels.

then one evening, everything changed. it was a night like any other. the winter air was crisp as you and drew strolled through the twinkling streets of los angeles. you were coming back from a cozy evening out, the laughter still lingering between you as you recounted the highlights of the night.

as you walked, the sound of distant pops drawed your attention. you paused mid-sentence, eyes widening as bursts of color lit up the night sky. fireworks!

the brilliant reds, blues, whites, and purples filled the air. a smile spread across your face as you turned to him, the shared excitement pulling you closer together.

“this is so cute,” you said, leaning into drew’s side to admire the display. you were momentarily lost in the beauty, the chaos of colors exploding above you like confetti.

but then you spotted something in the midst of the fireworks—words began to form in the night sky, each letter crafted from the brilliant light.

‘will you be my girlfriend?’ the phrase appeared among the colors, messy yet somehow legible.

you read it, confusion washing over you at first. someone was asking someone else through fireworks? but as you turned to drew, you noticed his gaze, expectant and hopeful. the realization quickly sunk in.

your mouth gaped open in shock, your heart pounding as you processed what was happening. you looked back up at the sky, needing to confirm that this moment was real, that the words were genuinely meant for you.

but you turned back to drew, and without thinking, you nodded. before you knee it, you were jumping into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, and holding him tightly. he caught you effortlessly, and you could feel his warmth seep into you as he hugged you back, pulling you close.

you could feel the happiness reflected there, and for the first time, it felt official—no more questions, no more uncertainty. you were exactly where you wanted to be.

and just two years later, you and drew found yourselves on the set of hellraiser, a project neither of you anticipated becoming a part of when you first met. it’s actually funny how it all unfolded.

initially, you weren’t even considering taking the role. after all, you were still knee-deep in filming tempest. the thought of juggling both projects seemed overwhelming, and you were ready to prioritize your current work over anything new.

when drew secured his role in some film, he kept the details to himself, not wanting to distract you from your current commitments. he didn’t mention the movie by name, and you didn’t press him for details; you respected his space and didn’t want to add to your own frustration about whether to accept the new opportunity.

“you should really consider it,” he urged, his voice filled with genuine belief in your talent. “this could be a great chance for you, babe, and imagine how much fun you could have! you’re almost done finishing tempest this month. after that, you’ll have plenty of time for your new project.”

you weighed his words, feeling torn. you loved the idea of the role, but the reality of juggling two major projects felt daunting.

yet, after a long talk about chasing new opportunities and taking risks, you found yourself swayed by his excitement and your own desire for growth. finally, you decided to go for it, officially signing on for the project.

what you didn’t realize, until the casting announcements were made, was that you and drew would be filming in the same movie. when you heard the news, you actually went insane. you felt like the universe was rewarding you for taking that leap of faith. the two of you would not only be working together but doing so on a film that promised to be both challenging and thrilling.

as filming began, the reality of being on set with drew hit you both like a wave. the two of you were navigating the intricate dance of being both co-stars and romantic partners, which brought its own set of challenges.

you found joy in the little things—the shared lunches, the whispered jokes during scenes, and the late-night talks about the original film. every day, you felt grateful to have him by your side, knowing that while the world outside the set may have been chaotic, your little bubble was filled with warmth, support, and your boyfriend. not everyone was able to be in your position.

but it wasn’t the same anymore. at least a year later. you were in another city, staying in yet another hotel room, the kind where the silence hung heavy in the air, almost suffocating. the glow of the city lights outside filtered through the curtains, casting a soft haze over everything.

you rested your back against the cool surface of the wall as you stared out into the city through the window. it was strange—the city was vibrant, loud, yet all you felt was isolation. your reflection stared back at you, tired eyes searching for something, anything, to hold on to.

you let yourself imagine drew standing beside you, his arm slipping around your waist, the warmth of his presence easing the ache that had settled deep inside.

but it was just a fantasy. he wasn’t there. not really. not the way you needed him to be.

he was somewhere else, in another city, on another set. networking. working. living his own life. you both were—careers that had taken off in opposite directions, always moving, always busy, always apart. your schedules were like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit together anymore, no matter how hard you tried to force them.

sometimes he would surprise you, show up in whatever city you were in, standing at your door with that smile that used to make your heart race. but even then, it wasn’t enough. when he was there, it felt like you were lying next to a stranger, like everything you shared before felt like a distant memory.

your mind wandered as you stared out the window, trying to remember what it used to be like. the way you used to laugh together, the way he used to look at you like you were the only person in the world. but those moments felt so far away now, like they belonged to another lifetime. your careers were taking off, yes, but your relationship was falling apart.

you tried everything to get him to spend more time with you. it wasn’t just the long phone calls or the quiet hopes you'd whisper when he promised he’d visit, but you actually took action.

you started reaching out to his manager, a move that felt so cold, so far removed from the days when it was just you and him figuring things out together. now, it was emails and calls, hoping to align your schedules like some kind of business transaction.

you’d ask if there was a window, any gap at all, where you could see each other, trying to make sense of his packed days and your own commitments. it felt impersonal, like you were just another appointment penciled into his calendar, waiting to be confirmed.

there were weeks when you’d sit down with your team, trying to move things around, freeing up your time in the hope that his manager would find a slot that worked. you bent over backward, squeezing your own projects tighter so maybe, just maybe, you’d have a few days together. but it always ended the same.

another ‘maybe next time’ or a polite suggestion from his side to ‘keep him updated’—as if he wasn’t even aware of how much you were trying to hold everything together.

what shattered you was seeing him with his costars. scrolling through social media and seeing him hanging out with them after long days on set. grabbing dinner with them, laughing with them, being the drew you used to know—but never like that with you anymore.

he made time for them, he’d pay them visits, go out for drinks, be himself. but not with you. why not with you?

you couldn’t understand it. and that was the worst part. you weren’t jealous of his work or his friends, but it hurt seeing him give them what you so desperately wanted. time. effort. attention. those small moments of connection.

you tried bringing other people into the mix, hoping it would be less pressure for him. leila and theo became your go-to when you were feeling desperate. you’d invite them out, framing it like a casual group hang, knowing that maybe if drew wasn’t faced with just you, he’d be more likely to show up.

you thought maybe he'd feel less cornered, less pressured. and so you'd reach out, asking leila to join you and casually suggesting that maybe drew could come along too. a movie, dinner, anything. you tried to make it seem easy, no big deal.

but he never gave a direct answer. it was always a dance—drew would respond with something vague, something about being busy, or how he’d love to but he wasn’t sure, and he’d get back to you. he’d redirect the conversation, shifting topics before you even realized what had happened. it wasn’t malicious, but it left you feeling hollow, like he wasn’t even aware of how long he’d been doing it, how much he’d been dodging your efforts to pull him closer.

and you couldn’t help but feel bad, feel like you were trying so hard for someone who wasn’t even putting in half as much as you were. it wasn’t like he didn’t care—he was just so wrapped up in his own world, his work, that he didn’t see how hard you were fighting to keep your relationship alive.

you were trying to reach him, but it felt like he was always just out of reach, just beyond the point where you could hold on.

it wasn’t anger you felt toward him, but this deep, aching sadness. because no matter what you tried, it felt like you were the only one trying at all—did he even like you anymore?

and then suddenly, it snapped.

like a taut string pulled too tight for too long, it finally gave way. all the moments you fought so hard for, the endless nights spent hoping, came crashing down in an instant. his words weren’t loud or angry; they were quiet, almost too calm. it was like the end had been sitting between you both for months, waiting to be spoken into existence.

“what?”

your voice was small, a cracked whisper filled with disbelief. you’d heard him—of course, you’d heard him—but it felt so unreal. your heart ached, like it was physically breaking apart, but your mind couldn’t fully process it. it felt like you were standing outside of yourself, watching this unfold, wondering if this was really happening.

“why?” you managed, your voice barely holding together as your eyes searched his face for something, anything that would make sense of this. you saw his regret, the sadness behind his eyes, but there was no answer that would make this hurt any less. his lips parted like he wanted to explain, but there were no words to fix this.

he reached for you, like he thought he could make it better somehow, but you took a step back, your hand instinctively wiping away the tear you didn’t even realize had fallen.

all the effort, all the time you had spent trying to make things work, fighting for what you thought was love—it felt like it had all been wasted. your chest tightened as you stared at him, the silence between you thick and unbearable.

“get away from me,” you whispered, your voice stronger now, though your heart was shattering inside. you waved him off, refusing to let him touch you, refusing to let him see you break any more than you already had.

he hesitated, his hands dropping to his sides as the distance between you widened, both physically and emotionally. it wasn’t just the breakup that hurt—it was everything. all the time you’d given, all the compromises, all the moments you’d spent wishing for more.

you turned around, not wanting him to see the fresh tears that blurred your vision, not wanting him to see how deeply this cut. it wasn’t just about losing him; it was about losing the version of yourself that had believed, that had hoped for something different. something better.

“good luck on everything, drew.”

the words left your mouth before you could stop them, bitter and sharp. it felt like a punch to your own chest, but you had to say it. you had to remind yourself that maybe his career was the priority now, not you. and you needed to remind him of that, too.

even as your throat tightened, and your body threatened to break down entirely, you forced yourself to keep walking.

you didn’t look back. not when the tears started falling faster, not when your hands shook as you unlocked your car door, not even when you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back like a weight you didn’t want to carry anymore.

the sobs finally broke free once you were inside, gripping the steering wheel so hard your knuckles turned white. he didn’t chase after you, didn’t say another word. he just watched you leave, and that somehow hurt more than anything else.

as you drove away, tears streaming down your face, the weight of it all finally settled in. you didn’t want to hear his excuses, didn’t want to hear whatever reason he thought justified this. you just wanted to go home, to get away from the pain that now felt too familiar, and to leave behind the pieces of your heart that had shattered at his feet.

and just like that, the year of silence between you began.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @icaqttt @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @cl4uus @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi @matthewswifeeee @uwuemlwlrld @l4venderia @chenslucy @darkreymbow @congratsloserr @skyslowalking @ivy-34 @behindviolettwrites @allthoughtsmindfull @lovelylupin04 @ecstqzy @dasguccier

[rootedinrevisions]

Unplanned Journeys: Part 2

SUMMARY: The journey through pregnancy unfolds as you and Jake navigate each milestone together. From the nerves at your first doctor’s appointment to the tender moment when Jake notices your baby bump for the first time, everything feels more real with each step. At the anatomy scan, you find out the gender, sparking sweet discussions about names and the future. As you work together to set up the nursery, Jake’s suggestion to move in makes your growing family feel even more complete. Finally, the big day arrives, and after an exhausting labor, you hold your baby in your arms—marking the beginning of the next chapter of your life.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to the Anon who sent the request for this in! I hope you enjoy it! Also, there will be AT LEAST one more part to this coming. I haven't decided yet how long I want to make this story quite yet.

WARNINGS: Angst. Unplanned pregnancy.

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891 

If you would like to be added to my Tag List please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added!

The sterile scent of the clinic filled the air as you sat in the waiting room, nervously tapping your foot against the tiled floor. The crinkle of a magazine in your lap was the only thing distracting you from the tight knot in your stomach.

It was a familiar setting—nothing new about doctor's offices, after all. I mean you'd been to the doctor's before. But today felt different. Monumental.

Jake sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles. Every so often, his gaze would flicker over to you, checking in silently. His calm presence should have grounded you, but the nerves were relentless, pulsing under your skin. This wasn’t just any appointment. This was the first time you’d be seeing your baby.

“Breathe,” Jake murmured softly, his voice low so only you could hear. “You’re squeezing the life out of that magazine.”

You glanced down, realizing your knuckles were white as you gripped the edges of the glossy pages.

You let out a shaky breath and loosened your hold, giving him a small smile. “I didn’t even notice.”

“I did,” he said with a teasing grin, but his eyes were soft. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to feel that same confidence radiating from him, but the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. What if something was wrong? What if—

The sound of your name being called jolted you out of your thoughts. You stood up, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, and Jake rose with you, his hand slipping into yours. His grip was firm, reassuring, as you followed the nurse down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

The exam room was small but cozy, with pale blue walls and an exam bed in the center. The ultrasound machine sat next to it, and just seeing the equipment sent another wave of nerves washing over you. This was really happening.

The nurse smiled kindly, gesturing for you to take a seat on the exam table. “We'll have you go ahead and undress from the waist down. You can lie back and make yourself comfortable. The doctor will be in shortly.”

As you lay back, the flimsy paper sheet thing they had given you covered your midsection down to your thighs. Your stomach twisted with anticipation. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts, but Jake was there. He took your hand, his thumb tracing small patterns on the back of your hand.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he repeated, his voice steady and calm. “Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. You wanted to believe him—to trust that everything would be fine—but the uncertainty still clung to you.

Moments later, the doctor entered, a friendly smile on her face as she introduced herself. She explained what would happen at this appointment in a calm, soothing tone, but you barely registered the words. Your mind was too busy spinning with possibilities. Would there be a heartbeat? Would everything look normal?

The doctor dimmed the lights and began preparing the ultrasound machine. Your breath hitched as she spread the cool gel across your abdomen, and you instinctively squeezed Jake’s hand a little tighter. His other hand moved to brush a stray hair from your forehead, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You ready?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out. You’re not in this alone.”

His words gave you just the slightest bit of comfort, enough to make you nod as Dr. Bennett pressed the probe gently against your belly. The room went silent for a moment, the sound of the machine whirring softly in the background as the image on the screen flickered to life.

And then you heard it.

A soft, rhythmic thump. Steady and strong.

You blinked, your breath catching in your throat. There it was. The heartbeat. Your baby’s heartbeat.

“There we go,” the doctor said with a smile, her eyes focused on the screen. “Everything looks good so far. Strong heartbeat.”

You stared at the monitor, unable to tear your eyes away from the little flicker of life that appeared on the screen. Your baby. It was so small, just a tiny blip, but it was there. Real. Alive.

Jake’s hand tightened around yours, and when you looked over at him, you saw the same awe mirrored in his expression. His eyes were fixed on the screen, his usual confident, laid-back demeanor replaced by something softer—something you had never seen before.

His lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something, but no words came out. He was just as overwhelmed as you were.

Tears pricked at your eyes, the emotion of it all finally hitting you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been holding in until this moment—until you saw the heartbeat, heard that steady rhythm, and knew that everything was okay.

Jake finally spoke, his voice quiet but filled with awe. “That’s… that’s our baby.”

You nodded, too choked up to speak, the tears spilling over. Jake’s hand moved from yours to gently brush them away, his touch tender and reassuring.

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

You nodded again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear or doubt. It was because you finally believed it. Everything was going to be okay.

The doctor smiled warmly, snapping a few images for you to take home before wiping the gel off your stomach. “You’re measuring right on track. I’ll see you again in four weeks, but everything looks great.”

As she left the room, Jake turned to you, his eyes still wide with disbelief but now filled with a quiet kind of joy. “That was… I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“I know,” you whispered, your heart still racing from the rush of emotions. “I can’t believe it either.”

He reached out, gently placing a hand on your stomach, where the gel had just been wiped away. His touch was soft, reverent, as if he was afraid to press too hard. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

You covered his hand with yours, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. “Yeah,” you said, your voice full of wonder. “We really are.”

Jake smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart ache with affection. And for the first time since finding out, you felt the panic slip away. You were scared, yes—but with Jake by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came next.

Together.

* * * * *

You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped loosely around your body as you brushed your hair, your reflection catching your eye more than usual. Something had changed. It was subtle—barely noticeable unless you really looked—but it was there. The soft curve of your belly, just below the towel line, had begun to take shape.

You placed your hand on it, fingers tracing the gentle swell. It felt strange, unfamiliar, and yet… there was something deeply comforting about it. A quiet reminder of the life growing inside you, inching its way into the world.

Jake was in the other room, probably scrolling through his phone or flipping channels, oblivious to the tiny moment of realization you were having. The baby bump hadn’t fully registered with you yet either, but standing here, in the soft morning light filtering through the bathroom window of his place, you couldn’t deny it. Your body was changing. The bump was there.

Part of you wanted to hide it for a little longer, to savor this secret for yourself. But a bigger part—one that was filled with excitement and curiosity—wanted to share it with Jake. To see the look on his face when he realized just how real this was becoming.

After drying off and slipping into one of Jake’s old t-shirts, you wandered into his bedroom where he was sprawled on the bed, head propped on one hand as he absentmindedly flicked through a football game.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile tugging at your lips as you watched him. He didn’t even notice you at first, too engrossed in the game. But eventually, he must have sensed your gaze, because he turned his head, his eyes finding yours instantly.

“Hey,” he said, grinning lazily. “What’s up?”

You hesitated for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip before you took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bed. “I… I want to show you something.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

Your heart fluttered with nerves, but you moved to stand in front of him, the oversized t-shirt hanging loosely on your frame. You took another breath, then lifted the hem of the shirt just enough to reveal the small, gentle swell of your belly.

Jake’s reaction was immediate. His eyes widened, his breath catching as he stared at the bump, the soft curve that hadn’t been there before. For a moment, he didn’t say anything—he just looked, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. Not just any smile—one of those rare, breathtaking smiles that lit up his whole face, eyes crinkling at the corners, as if he’d just discovered something truly magical.

“Is that…?” he started, his voice soft with awe, before trailing off. He reached out, his hand hovering near your belly like he was asking permission.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat.

His hand made contact, fingers splayed gently over the bump, as if he was afraid to press too hard. He rubbed his thumb lightly against your skin, tracing the small curve with a mixture of wonder and joy. It was like he couldn’t get enough of the moment—couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that this was real.

“That’s… that’s our baby.”

You smiled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked down at him, his expression so full of love it made your heart ache. “Yeah,” you whispered back. “I'm starting to show.”

Jake shook his head slightly, still in awe, his hand moving slowly over the bump like he was trying to memorize the feel of it. “I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your stomach. “I mean… I know we’ve been talking about it, but seeing this—it’s real, isn’t it?”

You nodded, feeling the same mix of disbelief and excitement swirling inside you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It’s real.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes shining with emotion. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Even more beautiful than before.”

A warm flush spread across your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, Jake stood up, pulling you gently into his arms. His hands settled on your waist, his thumbs brushing the bump as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t believe I missed this,” he said with a small laugh, his lips still close to your skin. “How long have you noticed?”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest as you let out a quiet laugh. “Not long,” you admitted. “I only really noticed today.”

Jake pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you. “Well, I’m glad you showed me,” he said, his smile still lighting up his face. “I don’t want to miss any of this. Not a single second.”

You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand, your thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. “You won’t,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “We’re in this together, remember?”

He nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips—soft and sweet, filled with all the emotions neither of you could quite put into words.

As the kiss ended, Jake’s hands found their way back to your belly, his fingers brushing over the bump again. He looked down, his face full of wonder as if he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“This is crazy,” he murmured with a small chuckle, shaking his head. “But it’s also… amazing.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. “Yeah,” you said softly. “It really is.”

Jake wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you close, and for the first time, the two of you just stood there, holding each other, feeling the tiny life growing between you. It was a quiet, beautiful moment—a shared realization that everything was changing, but in the best way possible.

* * * * *

The soft hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small exam room as you lay back on the table, Jake seated beside you, his hand tightly holding yours. The lights were dim, and the air was thick with a mix of nerves and anticipation. You weren’t sure if it was the faint chill of the gel the technician had spread across your belly or the fact that in just a few minutes, everything would feel a little more real.

Jake squeezed your hand, his thumb rubbing small circles into your palm, silently telling you that he was right there with you, just as anxious and excited as you were. You turned your head to look at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile on his face, though his eyes were glued to the monitor in front of you.

“Alright, let’s take a look,” the technician said, her voice calm and friendly as she moved the ultrasound wand over your belly. The screen flickered with shapes and shadows, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filling the room, a rhythmic thud that made your own heart skip a beat.

Jake’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as both of you stared at the screen, trying to make sense of the images. The technician moved the wand slowly, explaining the different parts—the baby’s head, arms, legs. But the moment you’d both been waiting for was still ahead.

“Are you ready to find out?” the technician asked, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

You nodded, biting your lip, a nervous excitement bubbling up inside you. Jake leaned closer, his eyes wide with anticipation.

The technician smiled, and with a small movement of the wand, she pointed at the screen. “Congratulations,” she said softly. “You’re having a baby boy.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, sinking in. A boy. You felt Jake’s hand tense, then relax as a slow grin spread across his face. He glanced at you, his eyes shining with pure, unfiltered joy.

“A boy,” he murmured, the words barely audible, as if he was saying them more to himself than to you.

You smiled back at him, your heart full. “Yeah,” you whispered. “A boy.”

Jake let out a small laugh, his free hand moving to rest on your belly, his thumb brushing over the slight bump. “A little man,” he said, his voice filled with wonder. “I can’t believe it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the relief and excitement finally washing over you. Everything felt a little more real now, a little more tangible. You had a son—a baby boy who was going to turn your entire world upside down in the best possible way.

After a few more minutes of watching the baby wiggle on the screen, the technician handed you some printed images from the scan, and soon you and Jake were heading out of the clinic, stepping into the cool air of the parking lot.

The ride home was quiet at first, the two of you still processing the news. Jake’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove, the soft buzz of the radio playing in the background. You glanced over at him, noticing how he was still grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

“You’re really excited, huh?” you teased, though the warmth in your voice gave away just how much you loved seeing him this happy.

Jake glanced at you, his smile widening. “Hell yeah, I’m excited. We’re having a boy. That’s… that’s huge.”

You nodded, feeling the same excitement bubbling up again. “I know. It’s crazy.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, but you could feel Jake thinking, his mind already racing ahead. And then, almost predictably, he asked the question you’d been waiting for.

“So,” he started, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity, “have you thought about any names?”

You let out a small laugh, turning to look at him. “Of course I’ve thought about names,” you said. “I’ve been scrolling through Pinterest boards for weeks now. I’ve got a whole list.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear ‘em.”

You pulled your phone out, scrolling through your saved baby names. “Okay, well… I’ve always liked the name ‘Caleb.’ It’s kind of classic but not too common, you know?”

Jake nodded thoughtfully. “Caleb’s nice. What else you got?”

“Uh, let’s see… there’s ‘Wyatt,’ ‘Eli,’ and ‘Noah,’” you said, rattling off a few more names you’d saved.

Jake seemed to consider them for a moment, but then he let out a soft chuckle. “Those are good,” he said, his tone warm. “But, uh, I was kind of thinking about something more… I don’t know, meaningful? Maybe a family name.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious now. “A family name?”

Jake nodded, glancing at you again. “Yeah, like… well, my granddad’s name was ‘Jameson.’ I always thought that was a strong name. And my dad’s middle name was ‘Robert.’”

“Jameson Robert,” you repeated, testing it out. “That’s pretty solid.”

Jake smiled, clearly pleased. “Right? It sounds like a name you could grow into. A name with some weight behind it.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how serious he sounded. It was clear Jake had already been thinking about this—probably long before today. “I like it,” you said. “But we don’t have to decide right now. We’ve still got time to figure it out.”

Jake nodded, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of carrying on some of the family names. But I’m open to anything.”

You smiled, leaning back in your seat as you watched the landscape pass by outside the window. “We’ll figure it out together,” you said softly. “Besides, we’ve still got a few months to pick the perfect name.”

Jake chuckled, glancing at you with that easy, warm smile of his. “Yeah,” he said. “But I’m calling it now—he’s gonna be a little Jameson.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “We’ll see about that.”

The rest of the drive home was filled with easy conversation, tossing baby names back and forth and laughing about which ones definitely didn’t make the cut. You felt lighter than you had in weeks, the excitement of the day settling into something quieter, something deeper.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the two of you hadn’t landed on a final name, but it didn’t matter. You still had time. What mattered was that you were in this together—building a family, one moment at a time.

* * * * *

You stood in the small bedroom of your apartment, surveying the space that had felt cozy just a few months ago but now seemed increasingly cramped with the realization that a baby was on the way. Jake was pacing the floor, tossing around ideas for rearranging the furniture, while you tried to mentally picture how everything could fit.

“What if we move the dresser to the other side?” Jake suggested, pointing toward the corner where a floor lamp barely fit. “Then we could push the bed over, and maybe…” He paused, considering the layout again. “I don’t know, it just feels tight in here.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah, it’s going to be a challenge. I wasn’t exactly planning on having a baby when I moved in here.”

Jake leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, and looked at you with a thoughtful expression. “You know,” he said slowly, “I was thinking… maybe you could just move into my place.”

You blinked, surprised by the suggestion. “Your place? But we’ve only been together a few months, and now with everything that’s happened…” Your voice trailed off as you considered the implications.

He straightened up, stepping closer. “I mean it. My place has two bedrooms. We can easily turn one into a nursery, and I want you and the baby close to me. We could be a family.”

The warmth in his voice sent a flutter through your chest. You searched his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. “Are you sure? This is a big step. We haven’t even been together a year yet.”

Jake nodded firmly, the look in his eyes unwavering. “I know it’s fast, but I want to do this together. I want you both with me. I don’t want to miss a moment once he gets here.”

Your heart swelled at his words, a mix of excitement and anxiety flooding you. “It’s just… a lot to think about.”

He reached out, pulling you into a warm embrace. “I get it, but we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this. We can make it work.”

As you melted into his arms, you felt the weight of your worries begin to lift. The idea of moving in with Jake was both daunting and exhilarating, but deep down, you knew he was right. It would be good for all of you.

Pulling back slightly, you looked into his eyes, your smile growing. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Jake’s face broke into a wide grin, and he lifted you off the ground in excitement. “Really? You mean it?”

You nodded, laughing as he set you back down. “Yeah, I mean it. I’m just as scared as I am excited, but I want this. I want us to be a family, and I want us to be together.”

Jake’s smile softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Then it’s settled. Let’s make it happen.”

You felt a rush of happiness as you both embraced again, knowing that despite the challenges ahead, you had each other. You could build a home together, and soon enough, you’d be welcoming your little one into the world.

* * * * *

The day had stretched into what felt like an eternity, filled with anticipation, exhaustion, and a whirlwind of emotions. You lay in the hospital bed, beads of sweat on your forehead, clutching Jake’s hand tightly. He was your anchor, whispering words of encouragement and squeezing your fingers every time a contraction rolled through you.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” he said softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. His voice was a calming presence amid the chaos, and every time you met his gaze, you felt a surge of strength.

Hours passed, and the pain became almost unbearable, but you pressed on, motivated by the thought of finally holding your baby in your arms. You could feel the excitement in the room as the medical staff prepared for the final moments. Jake stayed right by your side, never leaving you, his eyes filled with concern and love.

Finally, with one last push, the cries of your baby filled the room, piercing through the haze of pain and exhaustion. Your heart raced as you heard that precious sound, a mixture of relief and joy flooding through you. The nurses gently placed the tiny bundle on your chest, and you looked down, tears brimming in your eyes.

There he was—your son. His little face, scrunched up and wailing, filled you with a warmth you had never known. You glanced up at Jake, who was beaming, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the sight of his son for the first time.

Jake leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You did it,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s perfect.”

You smiled through your tears, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and pride. “Look at him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s ours.”

Jake nodded, his eyes glistening as he gazed at the two of you. “We’re a family now.”

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The pain of labor faded into the background, replaced by an all-consuming love for this tiny human that you had created together. You felt Jake’s hand wrap around yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as he leaned in to share the joy of this incredible moment.

As you cradled your son against your chest, the world around you fell silent. It was just you, Jake, and your beautiful baby boy, the three of you beginning this new chapter together.

[yuri-is-online]

I'm taking a break from making Yutu asks and giving you a jade ask:

Most mer people expect humans to be either helpless or just a little ok when it comes to dealing with bodies of water.

Basing Yuu off of my experiences today, Yuu would not be most people. I come from a province that is full of rivers and waterfalls. When you first step in the water you'd let out squeaks and screams because the water is VERY cold. Cold enough that people stick full watermelons in and when they later crack them, they've turned into sorbet.

Today I went to a water resort that's based in a canyon. I was wearing high heeled sandals and started wading against the stream (yeah I know, pretty dangerous) I fell into the water twice but i still consider it a win since the first time I was dragged in when I was pushing a bench swing and the second time was when i tried sitting on an unstable swing (both were within 2 hours and both times my head stayed above water) my pants still tore from the water pressure

When jade first finds a waterfall on a hike with Yuu, he feels content with setting up a cute picnic. Yuu on the other hand asks jade to hold onto the food, as they eat to swim first. Jade is confused. What swim? WHERE?! Yuu then, fully clothed, walks into the water. Jade wants to scream. Sure they're at the bottom of the waterfall but that's still a lot of water pressure, some merfolk have drowned trying to swim against the stream. Yet Yuu just stands there, in the water, completely unaffected (adjusting to the temperature). Then they JUMP into the fucking water and start swimming to the other side of the stream. Jade loses his mind and starts yelling for them, he even puts his head into the ice cold water and screams hoping they'd hear him. When Yuu surfaces on the other side they look at him in confusion

"what's wrong, jade?"

"WHAT'S WRONG??? PREFECT WHAT ARE YOU DOING? DONT YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THIS IS?"

"what??? I'll just swim back and forth a few times! It's been a while since I've done this"

"AND WHAT IF THE CURRENT CARRIES YOU SOMEWHERE ELSE? WHAT WILL YOU DO?"

"....I'll stop??? With my legs??? I'll just stand????"

Jade is stunned

Legs. Yes legs. Humans had legs. Merfolk don't. That's why they can resist the current.

That day jade returns looking a little gaunt, which is something that worried Azul for what discoveries his friend had made

-Grim OB Anon

You know Grim OB anon you bring up a really good point with this concept: the way humans interact with water is probably a relatively foreign concept to the Octatrio. We know from Book 3 that NRC has a swimming pool they use for classes, but swimming isn't the only way humans interact with water. The three of them have never seen a water park, and it sounds like a concept that they would brush off as being silly. Why wouldn't humans just swim if they want to have fun? There's all sorts of things you can do to have fun under water, just ask they'll show you.

Jade has a calm facade, and the only time he really is comfortable breaking it is when he's excited. We've only ever seen him upset a handful of times, it's a very intense emotion on him. If this was any other human he would find it funny, but it's you so he doesn't find it funny at all. He's terrified and you are-

Fine. You are confident and radiant surrounded by water and standing up against something that is genuinely dangerous. He still asks you to come to shore, hiding his fear under a faux pout. You scared him, prefect, after he went so far out of his way to do something nice for you. Really the least you can do is just stay with him and let him take comfort in your presence.

[violettwrites]

in the arms of the broken — daryl dixon

a/n: to the dear nonnie that requested this 🫶🏻 thank u sm i absolutely adored writing this (i rly should be sleeping but i can’t so here i am) i hope you enjoy !!

if you enjoyed reading this, please support me by giving me a like, reblog, and/or comment ! don’t forget to follow me either if you want to read more of my stuff !

request: anon said — “i also like the dialogue prompt ‘i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this’ that tugs at the heart strings”

summary: reader cannot cope with the way the world has become, during a particularly hard night for themselves, daryl dixon is the one to comfort them.

warnings: angst/sadness ,,, thats it rly

word count: 1,241

recourses: divider by @adornedwithlight

➵ tp!daryl masterlist

➵ regular masterlist

here is my ask box !

the night was quiet except for the crackle of the fire, but it felt wrong—like the world had gone still, holding its breath. you sat by the flames, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly into the flickering light. the heat touched your skin, but it didn’t reach you, didn’t chase away the cold that had settled deep inside.

daryl watched you from a distance, leaning against a tree with his arms crossed over his chest. he’d been keeping an eye on you for days, noticing the way you’d been pulling away from everyone, isolating yourself. you’d always been strong, always held it together for the sake of the group, but something was different now. something had changed, and it scared him. you were like a shadow of yourself, your spirit drained, your eyes distant.

rick approached him, eyes flicking over to you before meeting daryl’s. “how’s she holdin’ up?”

daryl didn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he watched the way you sat so still, your body hunched like the weight of everything had finally become too much to carry. he shook his head, his voice quiet and rough. “i don’t know… i’ve never seen her like this.”

rick nodded, his expression grim. “she’s been through a lot. more than most of us. maybe she just needs some time.”

rick can recall the first time they found you, smack bang in the middle of atlanta, all alone. you were covered in blood and guts, and if he hadn’t actually heard how you begged for help when he saw you, your voice barely audible, he honestly would have thought you were just another walker.

“time ain’t gonna fix what’s broken,” daryl muttered under his breath, the frustration simmering beneath his skin. time wasn’t enough when you were drowning, when you couldn’t see a way out of the darkness. and he hated that he didn’t know how to pull you out.

rick gave him a look, one that said everything he didn’t need to say out loud. “you’re the one she’ll listen to, daryl. talk to her.”

daryl stood there a moment longer, watching the way you curled into yourself, like you were trying to disappear. every instinct in him told him to go to you, but he hesitated, unsure if his words would even matter. still, he couldn’t just leave you like this.

he finally pushed off the tree and walked over, his boots crunching softly against the dirt. he lowered himself to the ground beside you, sitting close enough that you could feel his presence, but not so close that he’d crowd you.

for a while, neither of you said anything. the fire crackled between you, the only sound breaking the silence of the night. daryl wasn’t sure how to start, wasn’t good with words even on the best of days. but he knew you, and he knew the way you got when things started to spiral out of control in your head.

“you don’t gotta shut us out, y’know,” he finally said, his voice gruff but soft. “we’re all here for ya.”

you didn’t respond at first, your eyes still fixed on the flames like they held some kind of answer you were searching for. after a long moment, you sighed, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m tired, daryl.”

those words hit him like a punch to the gut. he’d seen people break before, seen the way this world could wear someone down until there was nothing left. but hearing you say it, seeing you like this—it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

“i know,” he said quietly. “we all are. but we’re still fightin’. you’re still fightin’.”

you shook your head, your voice trembling as you spoke. “i don’t know if i can anymore. every day feels like it’s getting harder. like… like i’m losing pieces of myself.”

daryl’s chest tightened. he’d always admired your strength, the way you kept going no matter how hard things got. but now, hearing you say you were falling apart—it made him realize just how much he hadn’t noticed.

“you ain’t losin’ yourself,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “you’re still here. we’re still here.”

you swallowed hard, tears brimming in your eyes. “i feel like i’m drowning. like no matter what i do, it’s never enough. i can’t save everyone, daryl.”

that was it, wasn’t it? the burden you carried, the weight of trying to protect everyone, to hold the group together when everything was falling apart. it was breaking you.

daryl shifted closer, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm, hesitant at first, but firm once it was there. “you don’t gotta save everyone. that ain’t on you.”

your voice cracked as you spoke, the tears spilling over now. “but if i don’t… who will?”

daryl’s heart clenched at the raw pain in your voice. he wished he had the right words, wished he could take that weight off your shoulders. but he knew he couldn’t fix everything. what he could do, though, was remind you that you weren’t alone.

“you don’t have to,” he said, his thumb gently brushing your arm in a way that was more comforting than he realized. “we’re all in this together. you ain’t gotta carry the world by yourself.”

you turned to look at him, and the vulnerability in your eyes nearly broke him. he wasn’t used to seeing you like this, so lost and fragile. he hated it. he hated that you felt like you had to carry the world alone, that you felt like you were drowning.

“i don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “everything feels so heavy.”

daryl swallowed hard, his own heart aching at how much pain you were in. he didn’t know how to take that pain away, but he could be there for you. he could be the one thing you could hold on to when everything else felt like it was slipping away.

“you ain’t alone,” he said, his voice low but steady. “you got me. no matter what, you got me.”

you looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe just a little easier. his words were simple, but they grounded you. daryl had always been your anchor, and in this moment, you needed him more than ever.

without thinking, you leaned into him, your forehead resting against his shoulder as the tears came harder, your body shaking with the force of them. daryl didn’t hesitate. he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back.

“let it out,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s okay. i got ya.”

and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall apart. you let the tears come, let the pain you’d been holding in for so long spill out. daryl didn’t say anything more, didn’t need to. he just held you, his presence steady and unwavering, letting you know without words that you didn’t have to carry this burden alone.

the fire crackled softly beside you, but the world felt a little less cold with daryl holding you. you weren’t okay. you weren’t sure when—or if—you’d ever be okay again. but for now, in his arms, you felt like you didn’t have to be.

and maybe that was enough.

[kit-williams]

Once this is all over

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis

Ferrus removes the metal from his arms.

This is Yan Ferrus and the reader is the one he put in the forever box.

This is also to make up for the noncon fic I had recently wrote with something nicer

The scarring on his arms and hands were going away as it was a long time coming... the Great Crusade was over and he could finally remove the metal from his hands. She had been in recovery for some time as long cyro takes some time to have the body return to normal. But their reunion was what he had hoped for... to feel her hands slowly glide over his arms. Gently touching where there was still a seam in his arms but just one where the metal once was but that did not matter.

What mattered was the sensation of her fingertips gliding along the pale skin. In time it would match the same tan as the rest of him but he could feel the minute way her fingers pulled on the skin of his arms. His face gave no impression of the arousal he was in as his cock was pressed into his thigh throbbing angrily as she babbled but his superhuman mind was focused on her hands touching his naked arms.

Tiny fingers gently press against the veins in his wrist as she is not as talkative as she once was... he knows he is partially to blame as he was selfish and took her but he also knows she is still recovering... but he wants to feel her body now and watch her writhe with pleasure as his hands move over her flushed form just as he did the last time he held her.

Her hands touch his palms again as she once more chirps about the lines in his hand... but he isn't paying attention as he feels his cock jump each time she moves her fingers over his palm, feeling the way she cups his hand. She looks confused for a moment as his ring finger just touches her lips... he doesn't know why he touched but his face heats up and he pants hard as he watches her wrap her mouth around his finger. The way her cheeks hollow and how her tongue moves against the skin.

He bites the inside of his cheek as he needs just a bit more but he's so close. He can spy her eyes looking down at the bulge against his thigh and when again her tiny hands just put pressure against the bulge he cums. He won't apologize... he breathes heavy as he comes down from the high... he wont apologize for anything as his hands cup her face delicately as he can feel her warmth through his hands no metal between them.

"When you recover..."

"Yes Ferrus I'll gladly join you in bed though... I can still join you now."

Hardly a beat passes between them, "I'll have you moved in right away."

[serickswrites]

I’m a huge fan of your writing. I was hoping you could tackle a trope that I always come back to.

Whumper tells whumpee they’re free to go but the catch is whumper just drugged whumpee and they have limited time to try and drag themselves to the open door. Whumpee tries their best and nearly makes it but their time runs out and whumper shuts and locks the door.

Hello, Anon! Thank you so much for the compliment!

I can 100% write this for you. I absolutely love this trope. I hope this is to your liking.

(I'm also trying out my new tag in everything list lol)

Warnings: captivity, restraints, torture, non con drugging, failed escape, cruel whumper

Whumpee was hazy. They had bee hazy the last couple of hours after Whumper had strapped them down to a table in the center of the room. They had struggled against the restraints, but Whumper had quickly injected them with something.

And then it didn't matter.

They knew they should be afraid. They knew they should try and get away. They knew that Whumper would start torturing them soon. But they were so hazy. And the room was spinning.

"Oh, would you look at that, I think this finally worked," Whumper said with a twisted smile. "I should have tried this with the others."

"Please," Whumpee whispered. They didn't want to be tortured. They had to get away. But no matter how much they wanted to, they couldn't muster the energy to fight Whumper.

"Tell you what, Whumpee. I'll let you go. If you can make it to the door, you are free to leave."

Whumpee's heart beat quickened. They were free? They could leave? Surely this was a trap. "Please," they tried again.

"Let me just unstrap you and open the door," Whumper said, their smile growing, "and you can be on your way."

Whumpee couldn't believe it. They were about to be free. They were going to be free to go. They were going to be getting out of here. They weren't going to be tortured.

The door swung open and Whumper stepped back. "After you," they gestured towards the door.

Whumpee had to muster the energy to get off the table. And then it was only twenty steps to freedom. They could do this. Whumpee listed sideways as they tried to sit up.

This wasn't good.

They couldn't let themself fail. They could be free. Freedom was right there. They were right there. They tried again, tumbling off the table with a loud thump.

"Careful," Whumper said, "wouldn't want to hurt yourself on the way to freedom."

Whumpee was too hazy to notice any pain. They were too hazy to do much. They tried to raise themself up on shaking arms, but couldn't. The room was spinning far too much.

But they couldn't not try. They could crawl out. They would do anything to get away. And so they pushed themself to the limit, cursing Whumper silently for drugging them so heavily.

It wasn't impossible. They could do this. Slowly, but surely they would make their way to the door. It was painfully slow. But they were escaping.

"Did I mention you have a total of ten minutes to escape? And you've used nine of those minutes?" Whumper said as they flicked a piece of lint off their shoulder. "I would hurry if I were you."

Whumpee's heart froze. Ten minutes. Ten minutes! And they only had one minute to make it across the room. They had to hurry.

But no matter how much Whumpee hurried, they couldn't make their body cooperate fast enough. No matter how much they willed their arms and legs to move, the drugs made their movements sluggish and disjointed.

"Please," Whumpee begged as they were arms' distance from the door. They were so close.

Whumper cackled as they slammed the door shut. "I gave you the chance. It's not my fault you didn't take it seriously."

Whumpee sobbed as they stared at the closed door. Though the drugs dulled everything in their body, it didn't dull their emotions. Didn't dull their terror. Didn't dull their profound sadness.

"And now the real fun can begin," Whumper said as they grabbed Whumpee by the ankle and dragged them back to the table. "You're going to regret not hurrying, Whumpee. I guarantee it."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal

[nqueso-emergency]

Just came across another bestie post about the bachelor party and I just kinda wanna vent a little if that’s okay. If not, feel free not to post this lol

So. Bachelor party. First and foremost, let’s talk about how it never should have happened anyway because Chimney didn't want it and told Buck as much. For all that it’s a tired trope at this point to accuse Buck of making stuff about himself, he kind of did here. He wanted to throw Chim a party, and that mattered more to him than what Chim actually wanted.

Next, costumes. Nobody except Buck and Eddie wore a costume. Ravi and Karen, much like Tommy, wore normal ass clothes, Chimney didn't dress up either, and Hen wore something that could be called a costume, but definitely wasn't 80s. So why is Tommy consistently singled out as not wearing one, especially when he actually had a pretty good reason for it, being on standby and all?

“Buddie canon confirmed because they coordinated couples' costumes!!!!” They didn't coordinate shit, they both came as the same character.

Karaoke scene. Just. Shut. Up. Already!

Which leads us to something nobody ever seems to tal about, the fact that Buck and Eddie trashed a pretty fancy-looking hotel room that most likely had Chim’s name on it. I sure hope they were the ones paying for the damage they caused, and not Chim and Maddie!

Also, the fact that bestie boos keep calling There Goes The Groom “the bachelor party episode” instead of “the motherfucking Madney wedding” says everything about them and why they watch the show (or don't, apparently.)

Sorry about the rant, but this particular thing pisses me off whenever I see it.

Please rant away, anon! You are so fucking right!

[giggly-squiggily]

Hiiii! I hope you're doing well. This is my first time requesting so I'm a lil scared. I request Lee Megumi and Ler Itadori. Megumi was looking a little down and our precious pink head wanted to cheer him up.

*dances after reading this prompt cause it's utterly perfect* YES! Good gracious how I love some Lee!Megumi! He's my favorite JJK character! :D I've gotcha covered, anon! Some Ler!Yuji coming your way!

CW: Swearing

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @gladdygirl18 @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @rachi-roo @mystwrites @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada @sp1racle @happy-trenchcoated-impala @r-ine_lovesu

Yuji walked right past his room, only to stop- backtrack, and stare at him. Eyes wide and brows quirked, he took in the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his lips, the redness lining his wet lashes. “‘Gumi?”

No response. The other boy merely looked at him. It was enough for Yuji to come in fully, shut the door behind him and crawl into bed. “What’s going on, Gumi? Talk to me.”

“...” Megumi looked like he wanted to, but the words weren’t coming. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, averting his gaze before finally settling on: “I’m just not okay right now.”

Yuji’s brow furrowed even more, then he quickly gathered up Megumi in his arms, pressing Megumi’s face into his chest and squeezing him gently. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay now.”

Muffled sounds came, but Yuji just petted his head. “Shhhh. I got you. I got you.”

“Yuji- too tight!” Megumi gasped out. The pink haired boy yelped and released him some, giving him the room to lean back and breath. “Gah! Ugh..I thought I was gonna die!”

“Pfft- like I’d ever let that happen!” Yuji snickered. “At least you’d die smelling something nice, right?”

Megumi stared at him. Yuji blinked, then he reached out and sniffed down his shirt. “Oo! Yeah- no. Definitely need to shower.”

Megumi made a small noise, biting his twitching lips. Yuji saw an opportunity and ran with it.

“Oh, so you agree?” Yuji pretended to grow upset, the hands around Megumi curling into claws. “You think I stink like the bathroom after Tempura Tuesday. You think I smell god awful like that one perfume Nobara bought, don’t ya?”

“Y-Yuji!” Megumi shivered when those claws began to move, twitching along the backs of his ribs as he squirmed. “K-Knock it off! I d-didn’t say an-ny of thahaht!”

“You were thinking about it!” Yuji pointed out, unable to keep his facade as he watched Megumi start to giggle. “I could see it in your eyes! You can’t tell me any lies!”

“Gaha! Geahahhahaha, Yuhuhuhuji! Cohohome on, dohohohon’t!” Megumi reached up to shove him away, but his push had no strength. Whether it was from his earlier misery or Yuji’s otherworldly muscle, he didn’t know. What he did know however was Yuji had him trapped. “Gehehhehet ohohohoff!”

“No way! This is the first time I’ve seen you smile all day!” Yuji rolled them over so he was on top, putting his weight to use as he danced his fingers up and down the brunette’s sides. “I’m not stopping until I’m sure that smile of yours stays on!”

“Ahh! Aheahhahahahhaa shihhihihi-” Megumi thrashed more at the pressure Yuji was putting on him- the fact he was properly stuck worsened the ticklish feeling. He flailed his hands about trying to grab anything on the other boy- his hair, his hoodie- even a tickle spot. Alas, his efforts were for none. “Yuhuhuhuhuji yohohohou soohohohn of a bihihihihihitch!”

“Ooo, Gumi said a bad word! Gumi said a bad word!” The pink haired teen cackled in delight. He dragged his fingers up to Megumi’s armpits, all but squealing in glee when the other boy slammed his arms down with a shout. “Bad spot? I thought mine were terrible! Hehehehe!”

“YUHUHUJI!” Megumi barked out a laugh, grabbing at his shoulders and digging his fingers in. It did nothing to stop him, but Yuji did take the hint with a wince. His hands moved back down to his waist, a bad spot but not nearly as ticklish. “Aheahhahahaha, shihihihihit! Yohoohhoohu gohohohohoohd?”

“Yeah, nothing too bad. Nobara bit me once when I tickled her.” Yuji snickered at the giggly snorts and wheezes Megumi let out. “I think I still have the teeth marks! She’s like a cat when you get her. You however- you’re more like a dog!”

“Oohohohoh woohohohohow! Hohohow orihihihginal-AH FUHUUHUHUHUCK!” Megumi practically shrieked when his hips were squeezed, another spot proven to be rather deadly. Yuji gleamed like the morning sun. “NOHOHOHOO DOHOHOHOOHOHN’T!”

“Awww, does it tickle, Gumi? Huh? Does it?” Yuji cooed at him, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together as he carried on digging his thumbs in. “Is the sad whittle Gum-Gum finally starting to feel better-”

Given past experiences tickling his friends, you’d think Yuji would have learned by now how things usually end.

A press into a particular sensitive bundle of nerves. A lurch. Seconds later- Yuji was seeing stars, Megumi’s face colliding into his own. He flopped over and off the shadow teen with a low groan, rubbing at his face. “Oww..”

“Ugh, damn..” Megumi groaned as he did the same, eyes wet with new tears from the pain. “Sorry. How’s your head?”

“No complaints.” Yuji responded automatically. He froze, as did Megumi.

Then…

“Pfft- gehahahhahahahaha!” Megumi cackled, wincing some with one hand still on his forehead. “Gohoohohd, that was stuhuhuhpid!”

Yuji was laughing just as hard, his headache residing as he watched Megumi choke on his mirth. “It’s your fault for showing me that movie! Seriously though- are you okay? I know I have a thick skull.”

“Heh, yeah- I’ll live.” Megumi adjusted in bed, turning onto his side so he could face him. “Erm…sorry, about your head. And erm…thanks.”

“Oh?” Yuji asked, grinning at Megumi’s blush.

“Shut up. I’m trying to have feelings. Gross.” The brunette scrunched up his nose before looking at him again. “Seriously. Today was…I don’t know. I just woke up depressed and stayed that way. I didn’t know it at the time, but I really needed a friend. So…thanks.”

Yuji’s teasing grin faded into a look of genuine awe. He started to smile too, if not a little wobbly. “Heh…yeah, well that's what friends are for. If you’re sad, I want to fix it.” He reached out, lightly shoving Megumi’s shoulder. “Though I’m still kinda mad you think I smell!”

“You’re the one comparing yourself to a toilet.” Megumi reminded, leaning in and taking a small sniff. “Now that you say it though…I can smell it now.”

“Oh you son of a- Get over here!” Yuji threw himself onto a grinning Megumi, going for his hips once more. Just as he got it going, the door flew open.

“What the hell is going on-” Nobara yelled out, pausing seeing the antics before her. “Oh, it’s tickle Megumi time?”

“No! No, it’s nohohohot! Noba-RAHHH!” Megumi shrieked as she threw herself into the fray, joining in with a sinister giggle. Soon the room was filled with laughter once more- a mix of all three of them.

Just outside the door, Gojo watched on with a soft expression. Nodding, he turned and left, the sound of his students lightening his steps.

Thanks for reading!

[neptunescore]

Charlos - divorce

For the driver lauring and random word

Prompt word: Divorce | Pairing: Charlos

Carlos knew he was crying, could feel the slow wetness against his cheeks, the uncontrollable shake in his fingers as his body refused to cooperate with him.

The phone in his hand slipped slightly — the call had long ended, yet the device had remained in its position next to his ear. A slow stream of acknowledgement coursed through him —

It was done. It was over. There was nothing more after this.

He didn’t know what to do now, should he go and make the breakfast smoothie he normally had at this time? Go cut up half the strawberries he normally did, pour half the amount of milk he usually did? Should he go look at the unfinished nursery they had so meticulously been planning? Figure out what to do with the newly bought pastel blue crib, the baby monitor so recently installed?

Should he ignore the missing half of his heart? Force himself to breathe the same amount with half his arteries gone?

He didn’t know.

How had it even come to this? They were doing so good. They were planning to adopt a baby, for god’s sake! Carlos had only bid Charles goodbye a mere week ago, kissing his husband softly on the lips as the other man boarded his flight to go attend another one of those nonsensical Ferrari meetings. They had shared a happy smile— had said the usual ‘I love you’s’ to each other. Charles had said it, he’d clearly told Carlos he loved him. His lover had looked straight into his eyes and told him he couldn’t wait to be back, to finally go and look at the adoption centres that they both had so joyfully made lists of.

Yet, here Carlos stood — his whole world crashing down in front of him, legs trembling as he tried his best to remain upright; tried his best to ignore the absence of the slimmer, paler body that he’d grown so accustomed to having next to him.

The Williams driver sat down, body creaking and groaning as it settled against the hardwood floor beneath him.

How could Charles do this to him. How could he do this.

Sure, the leaked photos of them together were sudden and undeniable — their fingers intertwined as they stood next to each other in the vegetable aisle of their local grocery shop, smiles on both their faces, noses an inch apart and eyes crinkled with love — but Carlos had thought that this was finally it. They’d finally come out; he’d finally be able to hold his husband’s hand in public, finally be able to kiss his cariño openly after a particularly good race, wrap his arms around the other during race weekends without having to worry about anything.

A cold laugh left him.

Oh, how he’d thought. How he’d believed.

What a fool he was, calling Charles excitedly in hopes of sharing his joy with his husband. What a fool.

He’d been met with nothing but silence, an extended ring as his call went to voicemail; Carlos had thought nothing of it, pressing the dial button a total of two more times before coming to the conclusion that Charles must be busy — and it was probably time for him to sleep anyway, Charles would probably call him later and then they could finally celebrate.

What a fool.

The only thing he’d received from Charles was a four line text. Ferrari wanted them to act like it was just another old teammate photoshoot. The tifosi wouldn’t accept this relationship. Ferrari couldn’t accept this relationship. Ferrari would drop him if he were to remain with Carlos.

The dark haired man had laughed, he’d laughed and laughed, laughed when he realised Charles had blocked his number, laughed when Charles’ lawyers had called him, laughed when he’d been told that the divorce papers would be mailed to him, laughed as he choked and sobbed and left bloodied marks against the kitchen counter he’d gripped.

Carlos’ head thunked against the rustic floor.

God. Let this be a nightmare, god. Give me mercy, god.

WHAT ABT A HI? A HELLO? A HOW R U DOING? DO I LOOK LIKE A COMMON WHORE ANON??😔 Nah lmfao I hope this matched ur expectations💗, I did get a little bit carried away with it though😭 (in my defense I WAS listening to 'traitor' by Olivia while writing this😤)

Divider by @cafekitsune

Rules and detailes☆°•~