#I know this room I’ve walked this floor | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itneverendshere · 1 day

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wait you guys watching milo one night, and rafes like “when is it gonna be out baby”

this was ridiculously cute to write oh my god!!!!! love their dynamic 😭😭😭😭 thank you for the request ❤️

so blessed to be looking at you- r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Milo's little hand gripped the sleeve of your hoodie, his fingers sticky with remnants of the peanut butter crackers he’d demolished not twenty minutes ago. You’d just finished washing the kid’s sippy cup when you heard the familiar thud of Rafe’s feet on the floor behind you.

You were at his house, tucked into the living room, the glow from the huge fireplace casting shadows over everything. Milo was sitting cross-legged on the rug, eyes locked on some cartoon with way too many bright colors. Every once in a while, he'd giggle at something on the screen, and it made your heart swell.

Rafe slid up behind you as you walked into the living room, wrapping his arms around your waist. His chin rested on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “You’re real good at that, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes, like always, but smiled anyway. “Yeah, well, someone has to be. My sister’s been running that graveyard shift all week. Milo’s practically my roommate at this point.”

He laughed softly, his chest vibrating against your back. He watched you twist the cap back onto the cup and set it down on the coffee table before turning you around in his arms. His eyes watched you closely, "You're so good with him," he said again.

You shrugged it off, though you warmed at the compliment. “I’ve had practice. Milo’s been around since I was seventeen, so I kinda had to figure it out.”

His hands lingered on your waist for a moment longer before he stepped away, glancing over at Milo, who was still oblivious to the conversation.

“Kid’s lucky he’s got you.”

You leaned back against the couch, watching Rafe watch Milo. It was something you’d noticed over the past few months — how he had softened around Milo, almost like he’d started to think of him as part of your little world. Whenever your sister needed help with him, Rafe was always down to hang out, no complaints.

If anything, he seemed to like it.

You’d only been dating for a year, but you’d already lost count of how many times he’d mentioned wanting kids. Not in a weird, pushy way, but just casually. Whenever you’d see a baby at the beach or out on the boat, he’d smile, and that sparkle would hit his eyes, and he’d say something like, “That’ll be us one day.”

You loved that he thought about it, thought about you like that, but you were always quick to keep him in check. You were still figuring out this whole relationship thing. Still, seeing him watching Milo like that, looking all soft and affectionate? Yeah, it did something to you.

“You good over there?” You asked, breaking him out of whatever trance he was in.

Rafe blinked and looked back at you, grinning in that way that made your stomach flip. “Yeah, just thinkin’.”

“About?” You raised an eyebrow.

He walked over, plopping down next to Milo on the floor, ruffling his messy curls. Milo laughed, swatting Rafe’s hand away, then promptly went back to his cartoon.

“When’s it gonna be our baby?” Rafe asked, so relaxed, you almost thought you misheard him.

“What?”

He shrugged like it was nothing. “I mean, you and me — we’ve talked about it before. You’re so good with Milo, and I like having him around. Feels right, y’know?”

Your heart did that stupid flip-flop thing again, and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop you from smiling like an idiot. You knew he was serious, even though he was trying to make it sound light.

“Rafe, we’ve been dating for a year,” You reminded him, “Let’s not go putting the cart before the horse.”

He tilted his head, giving you that lopsided grin that always made me weak. “A year’s a long time, baby. I know what I want.”

You sighed, but there was no hiding the fact that you loved hearing him say stuff like that. He was so sure, so steady. It was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place — how Rafe could be chaotic, reckless even, but when it came to you, he was all in.

You walked over to the couch, dropping onto the cushion and grabbing the remote to turn down the volume on the TV. Milo let out a little whine but didn’t protest too much since you left the screen on.

“You don’t even know what it’s like yet,” You teased. “Babies aren’t all cartoons and snacks, Rafe. They cry. A lot. Not to mention toddlers.”

Rafe shot you a look, his lips curving into a smirk. “You’re acting like I didn’t grow up with two little sisters running around screaming their heads off all day. I know what I’m getting into.”

You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Okay, but babysitting your sisters is different than being there 24/7. Especially when it’s your kid. There’s no off-switch.”

He just shrugged, “I don’t need one. I’ll figure it out with you.”

That comment alone hit harder than he probably even realized. With you. Like it was just a given that whatever future kids came into the picture, they were going to be both of yours. He didn’t treat the idea like some far-off possibility — for Rafe, it felt like he was already there, just waiting for you to catch up.

You leaned back against the couch, watching him with Milo. Your nephew had crawled into Rafe’s lap now, not really watching the TV anymore, just playing with one of his trucks while Rafe absentmindedly pushed his hair out of his eyes.

“Does it freak you out?” He asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Huh?” Your head snapped up, meeting his blue eyes.

“The baby thing,” he clarified, looking almost shy, which was weird for him. Rafe never did shy. “Like, when I bring it up. Does it freak you out?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to figure out how to answer that without sounding like you were completely against the idea — because you weren’t. You did think about it, just like Rafe did, but maybe with a little more hesitation. It wasn’t that you didn’t see a future with him. If anything, you were more sure of it now than you’d ever been. But the whole baby thing? It was a lot. A lot of responsibility, a lot of life changes. You weren’t were ready for it yet, especially at twenty-one.

“I wouldn’t say freaked out…” you started, choosing your words carefully. “It’s more like—I just want to make sure we’re ready, you know? We’ve got time.”

He traced patterns on Milo’s back, the little boy already dozing off in his lap. “I get that,” Rafe nodded, “I’m not trying to rush you. Just— sometimes I think about what it’ll be like. Like, really picture it. You, me, and a little one.”

You smiled, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks.

The way he was talking, so openly, like this was his ultimate dream? It made your heart swell.

He wasn’t just saying it to sound cute —Rafe wanted this. Wanted you to be a part of it. You could tell that much by the look in his eyes, the sincerity there.

“Yeah,” you said softly, finally letting yourself imagine it, too. “I think about it sometimes.”

He grinned at that, like you’d just given him all the confirmation he needed. But then he tilted his head, studying you like he was reading every single thought racing through your mind.

“Don’t even think about it,” You warned him, scootching yourself away.

Rafe practically beamed, scooting closer to you on the couch like he hadn’t just been told off. “What? I’m not thinking about anything.”

You gave him a look, narrowing your eyes. “Oh, please. I know that look, Cameron.”

His grin widened like he was proud of himself for whatever scheme he had cooking up in his head.

“Okay, maybe I’m thinking a little. Can’t help it when you’re over here making me all soft and sentimental.”

It was so typical of Rafe to be half-joking, half-serious, always pushing just enough to get you thinking but not enough to freak you out. He had this way of getting under your skin and making you picture things.

Milo stirred in his lap, his body shifting. You both glanced down at him, expecting him to be waking up from his half-snooze. Instead, Milo blinked his big eyes open, looking groggy but alert.

“Where’s da baby?” Milo mumbled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands, making the tiniest pout you’d ever seen.

You and Rafe exchanged confused looks. “What baby, buddy?” Rafe asked, ruffling his curls softly.

Milo sat up, his brows furrowed, like he was personally offended by the question.

“The baby! Dere was a baby! Where it go?” He looked around the room like it was hiding behind the couch or something.

Rafe glanced at you, utterly baffled, his mouth twitching like he was trying not to laugh. “Uh, Milo? I think you were dreaming, dude. No baby here.”

But Milo was having none of it. He looked at you now, all wide-eyed and serious. “No, dere was a baby! You had it, Auntie!”

You blinked, totally caught off guard, as Milo scrambled out of Rafe’s lap and stood up on the couch, looking around the room with this stubborn determination like he’d misplaced his toy truck. “Auntie had a baby! Where is it?”

Rafe’s lips twitched, clearly holding back a laugh. You raised your hands in surrender. “Milo, I swear, there’s no baby. Just you.”

Milo gave you a look that said he did not believe you. He crossed his little arms, glaring at the both of you like you were in on some kind of conspiracy.

“You’re hiding it.”

Rafe finally lost it and let out a snort, leaning back on the couch, looking at you with amusement written all over his face. “You’ve been holding out on me? You got a secret baby I don’t know about?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully in the ribs. “Don’t start.”

But Milo was still adamant, his little voice growing more insistent. “Auntie, I saw it! You were holdin’ da baby, and it had little feet! And it was cryin’! Where it go?”

You knelt down so you were eye level with him, “I think you were dreaming. You must’ve been sleeping really deep.”

Milo’s face scrunched up in thought, his head tilting to the side as he tried to process it. After a few moments, he let out a dramatic sigh, clearly disappointed. “Oh. I wanted to baby again.”

Rafe laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “This kid, man…”

You couldn’t help but smile at the whole thing, though there was something about the way Milo had said “Auntie had a baby” that sent a warm shiver down your spine. You caught Rafe’s eye, and he was already smirking, as if to say, See? Even Milo’s thinking about it.

Before you could answer, Milo yawned and plopped himself back down on the couch, clearly over his phantom baby drama, like it had never even happened.

Rafe leaned closer, whispering in your ear, “I mean, maybe Milo’s onto something.”

You gave him a playful shove, trying not to let the heat rise to your cheeks. “Shut up. He’s just dreaming, let’s get to bed.”

He chuckled under his breath as he got up from the couch, scooping a now sleepy Milo into his arms. Milo barely protested, his little head already resting against Rafe's shoulder, soft snores escaping his lips. You swore that kid slept like the dead. You grabbed his blanket from the armrest and followed them down the hallway.

As Rafe tucked Milo into the small guest bed, you couldn’t help but stand in the doorway and watch the scene. He was so gentle, pulling the covers up to Milo’s chin and brushing a stray curl from his forehead. After making sure Milo was comfortable, he quietly shut the door behind him, and the two of you headed toward his bedroom. Sliding into bed, you were aware of Rafe’s eyes on you the entire time. He lay down beside you, resting on his side, propped up on his elbow. His other hand traced light patterns along your arm. Rafe’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer leaving just the sound of your breaths syncing up in the quiet room. He rested his chin on top of your head, his thumb lazily tracing circles on your back, like he couldn’t stop touching you.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you asked, your voice muffled against his chest.

Rafe chuckled, his chest vibrating under you. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to memorize my face or something,” you teased, though you could feel his heart pounding steadily beneath your cheek.

He let out a soft sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he looked down at you, it almost made you blush.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured. “Sometimes I can’t believe this is my life now. That you’re here with me.”

Your heart stuttered at the sincerity in his voice. You looked up at him, suddenly feeling a little breathless. “Rafe…”

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice still quiet. “I’ve had a lot of crazy moments in my life, but this? Right here? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I still can’t wrap my head around it sometimes.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking him square in the eyes. “You know you didn’t give me much of a choice right?”

Rafe smirked, clearly amused. “Oh, didn’t I?”

You gave him a playful slap on the bicep. “Nope. You practically steamrolled your way into my life.”

He chuckled softly, his hand catching yours and pulling it against his chest, holding it there as his thumb rubbed soothing circles over your knuckles. “Yeah, well, look how that turned out. Can’t say I regret it.”

He was stupidly charming. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Rafe grinned wider, pulling you closer until your noses nearly brushed. “Exactly. So, no complaints from you.”

You huffed, feigning annoyance. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe I should’ve played a little harder to get. You barely gave me time to breathe.”

His lips twitched as he leaned in, brushing them against yours in the softest kiss.

“I just knew what I wanted.”

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merthosus · 2 days

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Bloody braiding

Summary: Fives comes in after a mission late at night. You were getting ready for bed but your hair wasn't braided yet, so you kindly ask him to do it.

This got into my mind right before sleeping hope you enjoy it!

"I am full of blood and you are asking me, if I could braid your hair?"

You were sitting on the floor at your room in the umbrella academy. Outside, it's slowly becoming fall and wet leaves are collecting on the windowsill. The walk to the bathroom was clearly too far for you, so you sat cross-legged in front of your large body mirror and embalmed your lips. It was already dark and you were getting ready for bed. Your skin had already been washed, your teeth brushed and you had changed into your best pajamas.

“You scared me, you tramp!” you say angrily as you pick up the balm again and screw it shut. As you look up at Five, your eyes widen a little when you see his bloodstained shirt. “Can you braid my hair?” you ask. Five puts his head to one side as he closes the door behind him. “I am full of blood and you are asking me, if I could braid your hair?” he asks you incredulously.

“Is that your blood?” you ask, pointing to his shirt. He just shakes his head and sits down on your bed. “Well then,” you say as you slide backwards between his legs.

Five sighs heavily as he looks down at you, still in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous,” he mutters under his breath, but his hands are already reaching for the hair tie that’s resting on your wrist.

You lean back slightly, enjoying the feeling of someone else taking over for a change. Five’s hands, though still smeared with dried blood, are surprisingly gentle as he starts dividing your hair into two sections. “You’re going to ruin my pajamas, you know,” you say softly, your eyes fluttering shut. The warmth of his presence feels oddly comforting, despite the unsettling state he’s in.

“I’ve been through worse,” he replies, his voice gruff but less sharp than usual. His fingers move deftly, and you realize he must have done this before. It strikes you, briefly, that Five’s life has been so much more complicated than any of yours.

“So… who’s blood is that?” you ask casually, not quite ready to face the full weight of the situation. It’s easier to talk while his hands are braiding your hair. There’s a lull in the air, as if the night itself is holding its breath.

“Do you really want to know?” he says, finishing the first braid with a quiet snap of the hair tie. You feel his fingers move to the next section of hair, his touch steady, unfazed by the topic. “Maybe not,” you admit, shivering slightly as the cool night air filters in through the window. Fives knee shivers a little bit as you let your head roll back on his thigh to look up at him.

Fives eyes do a little wider, as your head touched his inner thigh. "What?", you ask him confused ´, tilting your head a little bit. "N...nothing..", he shudders. You look deep into his eyes, trim to find an explanation for his odd behavior. "I know you had a bad day, can I help you in any way?", you ask him, laying your hand onto his thigh.

Five's gaze flickers as your hand rests gently on his thigh. He swallows hard, clearly not used to this kind of tenderness. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, soften for a brief moment before he quickly masks it behind his usual stoic demeanor.

"You don't need to worry about me," he mutters, his voice a little gruffer than before. "I've been through worse." His hands, which were so deft and confident when braiding your hair, now fidget slightly, unsure what to do.

You can sense that there's more going on than he’s letting on, but pressing him might push him away. Five is used to carrying his burdens alone, and you're not sure how much he’ll let you in. But you're here now, and you want to help.

“You’re always saying that,” you reply softly, your thumb unconsciously tracing a small circle on his thigh. “But you don’t have to deal with everything by yourself.”

Five glances down at your hand on his leg, as if contemplating whether to pull away or allow it. There’s a long pause, the room growing still as the air between you feels heavy with unspoken words. He closes his eyes briefly, as if waging some internal battle.

"Maybe not," he finally admits, his voice almost too quiet to hear. It’s the closest he’s ever come to admitting vulnerability. He looks away, his jaw tightening as if the admission alone was too much.

You nod, understanding the gravity of his words. You shift slightly so you’re sitting closer to him, the warmth of your presence offering him comfort, even if he won’t say it out loud.

"Let me help, just this once," you say gently. "You don’t have to say anything. Just let me be here."

Five doesn’t respond immediately, but his shoulders seem to relax, if only a little. His hand moves hesitantly, hovering over yours for a moment before resting on top of it. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes.

reveal. The vulnerability in his touch is a stark contrast to the bloodstained chaos he’s been through. It’s quiet, the room filled with the soft rustling of leaves outside and the steady beat of your heart against the tension in the air.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The weight of unspoken words lingers, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like a kind of peace—fragile and rare, but present nonetheless.

"You don't have to fix everything, you know," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. Your thumb continues its soft pattern on his thigh, grounding both of you in the simplicity of the moment.

Five lets out a small huff of laughter, but there's no humor in it—more like disbelief. "It's not that simple," he mutters, eyes still avoiding yours as if he's afraid to be seen.

"I know," you reply softly, leaning back slightly against him, feeling the warmth of his body behind you. "But you're not alone, Five. Not tonight."

His grip tightens briefly, and his fingers twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to pull away again. But instead, he stays still, his jaw clenched as if holding back something he can’t quite articulate.

The silence stretches once more before Five lets out a shaky breath. His eyes finally meet yours, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface—frustration, weariness, and something else, something softer.

Without saying a word, he leans forward, his forehead pressing gently against yours. The world around you seems to fade, the night drawing closer as you’re wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

Then, with a tenderness that surprises both of you, Five dips his head slightly, brushing his lips softly against yours. The kiss is slow, tentative, as if he’s testing the waters of something unfamiliar. You return the kiss just as gently, your hands moving to the back of his neck, fingers slipping through his hair as you pull him a little closer.

It’s not rushed or desperate, but rather a quiet understanding—a shared moment between two people who have seen too much of the world but have found solace, if only for tonight, in each other.

When he finally pulls back, his eyes stay on yours, softer now, but still guarded. He rests his forehead against yours again, his breath steady but slightly unsteady, as if letting go of this much was harder than he expected.

"Thank you," he whispers, so softly you almost don’t catch it. But the weight of those two words hangs in the air, and you know it’s more than just gratitude—it’s trust.

Hope you guys liked it!

#reader #smut #request #tua #five #five x reader #five hargreeves #aesthetic #five hargreaves x reader #number five

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tsumuus · 2 days

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₊✩‧₊˚ katsuki bakugou + prompt 2 ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ “i wanted her to look at me, but she couldn't pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair” ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚ original request ˚₊✩‧₊

The common room was unusually quiet, a stillness lingering after the group hangout had come to an end. Most of Class 3-A had already retired to their dorms, but you, Bakugou, and Midoriya remained. The glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting an amber hue over the room, intensifying the awkward tension that filled the air.

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys. Something about the silence felt... heavy. Your heart thudded uncomfortably in your chest, like there was something you should be saying but couldn’t find the courage to. Maybe it was the way Bakugou kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, or the way Midoriya sat there, more pensive than usual.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” you said, offering the boys a tired smile. “I want to get as much rest as I can before tomorrow.”

Izuku smiled back and nodded, while Katsuki only grunted in response. You felt the weight of his gaze as you turned and walked toward the dorms, but you didn’t dare look back.

Once you were gone, the silence in the room grew heavier.

Katsuki stared at the floor for a long time, fists clenching and unclenching as he wrestled with something in his mind. Finally, he broke the silence.

“I don’t get why you two aren’t dating yet,” he said, his voice gruff.

Izuku blinked, caught off guard. “Huh?”

“You and her,” Katsuki snapped, his irritation rising. “You’ve been joined at the hip since middle school. Inseparable. I figured you two had feelings for each other.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, and he frantically waved his hands in front of him. “Oh, no, no! We’re just friends, Kacchan. We’ve always been close, but it’s not like that. We’re like siblings, basically.”

Katsuki’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

Izuku tilted his head. “Get what?”

“You had all her undivided attention growing up,” Katsuki said, his voice barely a whisper at first, then louder as his frustration bubbled up. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He clenched his fists, the words pouring out before he could stop them. “I wanted her to look at me, but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair.”

Izuku’s mouth fell open, shock written all over his face. He didn’t know what to say, the confession hanging in the air between them. Katsuki kept going, almost like he couldn’t stop himself.

“And now you’re telling me you don’t even like her?” he asked, incredulous. His voice cracked slightly, and he hated how vulnerable he sounded, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out.

Izuku stared at Katsuki for a long moment, processing everything. He knew. He had always known about your feelings for Katsuki, ever since you’d confided in him back in middle school. He’d kept it a secret, though, respecting your wishes. But now, seeing Katsuki like this, he couldn’t just stay quiet.

“Kacchan,” Izuku started slowly, choosing his words carefully, “I think you should talk to Y/N about this, not me.”

Katsuki blinked, his confusion deepening. “Huh?”

Izuku stood up, giving Katsuki a gentle, knowing smile. “Trust me, Kacchan, she feels the same way.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened. “Same way about what?!”

But Izuku was already heading toward the dorms, leaving Katsuki behind to stew in his thoughts.

The silence that followed was deafening. Katsuki’s mind raced as he tried to piece everything together. Could it be true? Could you really feel the same way he did?

A month had now passed and you all had graduated, and UA's once-bustling dorms were now quiet, most of the students already packed up and gone, ready to take on the next chapter of their lives. Bakugou Katsuki stood by his car, having finished loading his belongings. He hadn’t stopped thinking about that night- about the conversation with Midoriya. About you.

He had replayed Izuku’s words over and over in his mind: “Trust me, she feels the same way.”

But what did that mean? Could it be true? After years of feeling like a shadow in your life, of competing for your attention with Deku, the thought that you could have possibly felt the same way about him all this time was too much for him to fully process.

As he carried the last box from his dorm, Bakugou passed by your room, the door wide open. He glanced inside and saw you still packing, surrounded by half-filled boxes and scattered belongings. Typical. You always took your time with things like this.

Clearing his throat, he stepped into the doorway. “You’re takin’ your damn time, huh? Everyone else is done.”

You looked up, surprised to see him but greeting him with a soft smile. "Katsuki. Shouldn’t you know by now how much of a procrastinator I am?”

He chuckled, a low sound that felt strange to him even now. “Yeah, I know.” It got quiet after that. Bakugou stood there, awkward in the silence, shifting the box in his arms. He wasn’t used to this- this tension between you two. For once, you didn’t seem to be looking at him through the lens of just another friend. He couldn’t explain it, but the air between you felt charged, and Bakugou hated how it made his heart race.

You hated the silence, too. Desperate to fill the void, you opened your mouth to say something, but Bakugou beat you to it.

“Remember that night? After the hangout?” He started, voice rough, avoiding your eyes. “When you left, I talked to Deku.”

You blinked, nodding slightly as if encouraging him to continue.

“He told me I should talk to you. That you… felt the same way.” He hesitated, his pride making the next part difficult. “But I don’t get what the hell he was talkin’ about. What did he mean?”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “Was that all he said? It sounds incomplete.”

Bakugou groaned, frustrated. You were always doing this- making him dig deeper. But he had already started this conversation, and now there was no turning back.

“You know, yn, our entire lives, you were always closer to damn Deku,” Bakugou gritted out, the words coming fast and hard. “The one thing I ever wanted was for your attention to be on me, not that damn nerd. But it never seemed to go my way. You could never take your damn eyes off him.”

You swallowed hard, shocked at how raw his words were. Bakugou wasn’t one to open up, let alone admit something like this.

“I guess I just never understood why,” he continued, the frustration growing evident in his tone. “I did everything in my power to make it go my way. For you to notice me, even acknowledge me. But it never seemed to go that way, huh?”

The silence that followed his outburst felt suffocating. Bakugou hated it, hated how vulnerable he felt after saying so much. But before he could backtrack or cover it up, he forced himself to continue.

“But I’m glad we got closer these last few years,” he muttered, softer now, his eyes fixed on a random spot on the floor. “It’s all younger me could’ve asked for. I don’t say this much, and you probably won’t hear it from me again, so listen up. I’m glad we were friends.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and you could hardly breathe. Bakugou… was glad? He wasn’t angry, wasn’t frustrated with how things turned out? After all these years?

You didn’t know what to say, so you fell back on humor, hoping to lighten the mood. “You said ‘were friends.’ I’m not gonna let you get rid of me that easily, Bakugou. We’ll see each other. I’ll make sure of it.”

Bakugou chuckled, but the weight of the moment still lingered. You hated it. You hated feeling like there was something left unsaid, something too big to ignore any longer.

So, before you could lose your nerve, you spoke up, your voice softer than usual. “You know, Bakugou… while you’re here, I should admit something.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious now. “What?”

“The reason I pushed you away all those years ago… it’s because I had a huge, fat crush on you.” You laughed, though the sound was nervous, unsure. “Being a dumb middle schooler, I thought that if I focused on Izuku, it’d help me get rid of those feelings. But all I ended up doing was accidentally blocking you out. I’m sorry for that.”

Bakugou stared at you, processing your words slowly, before his eyes narrowed. “Had?”

“Hm?”

“You said ‘had.’ You ‘had a crush on me.’” His tone was tense now, eyes locked onto you, searching.

“Yeah,” you replied, nervously laughing again. “I guess I never told you. I had the fattest crush on you.”

“What about now?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“What about now, yn?” Bakugou dropped the box in his arms and took a step closer, his body language suddenly more intense, more focused. He was agitated now, his frustration bubbling to the surface again. “yn, I just poured my heart out to you. Flat-out told you how I felt, how much I wanted your attention- how much clearer do you want me to be? I love you, yn. Is there any- any sliver of you that still has feelings for me?”

Your breath caught in your throat, heart racing as you processed his words. But all you could do was nod.

He didn’t hesitate. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded again, barely able to manage a breath as Bakugou closed the space between you. When his lips met yours, it was fierce, raw, but there was something so undeniably gentle about it. Every emotion, every unresolved feeling, every year of longing was poured into that kiss. The tension of the past years melted into something warm and real between you.

And as you stood there in the quiet of your half-packed dorm room, the weight of the unspoken finally lifted, replaced by the comfort of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you both had been waiting for this moment all along.

a/n lowkwy half assed the ending sorry but i really do love this quote😭

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razrbladekiss · 2 days

Text

TOLERATE IT | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: an argument with joel doesn’t end the way that you think it will.

PAIRING: joel miller x afab!reader. (established relationship)

WARNINGS: very short piece. angsty argument so if u do nawt want to read, then skip <3. i’m in the middle of an argument with my bf and instead of feeding into it, i have immortalized it into my writing 😊 sorry joel for being my proverbial punching bag ! maybe ill make a part two if we ever make up LOL.

Fat tears spill over the swollen apples of your cheeks faster than you can wipe them away with the already much-too-wet sleeve of your sweatshirt, and the room starts to spin.

Your face is damp with salty—bittersweet—upset, and a splitting migraine is beginning to fester away at the inside of your fucking brain.

“You can’t keep doing this.” Joel stands with both hands on his hips while you’re sat cross-legged on the couch, a cushion sat plump in your lap. “Can’t keep cryin’ whenever we have an argument—“

“But you’ve upset me, Joel!” Almost incoherently, you blabber. “You can’t expect me to be cool with the fact that you were flirting with some—some skank last night!”

He drags his left hand over his face. Joel exerts an exasperated sigh. He doesn’t know how many more hours he can argue with you about this, before he says something that he’s going to regret.

“I know. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it—but why the fuck are you still crying?!” Joel barks. “It’s been hours, baby! Can’t we move past this—“

“No! We can’t!” Scraping your hand across your eyes—all tears immediately drying up—you stand to attention. You smack the pillow onto the couch in complete and utter fucking fury. “It’s been four years of us, Joel. Four fucking years that I thought we were happy—but apparnelty you’re not! Are you bored of me, or something?!”

“No!” Defensively, he exclaims. He’s just as annoyed as you, now. Though he has no place to be. “I don’t know what came over me—“

“Four years. Forty-Eight months I’ve spent being by your side—completely faithful—and you think it’s okay to just fuck around on me?!”

“I’m not fuckin’ around on you!” Mood—and tone—matching, he counters. “I love you. But I was hammered last night—“

I was hammered. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t know what came over me.

BULLSHIT. You’ve heard it all before and, frankly, you’re sick of it. The excuses, the lies…Dating a prolific man-whore isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, actually.

“You need to get your act together.” With a shaking hand, you point at him. Your finger is trembling against his flannel. “If you want this to work, then you’ll stop lying to me—“

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Lying.” Through gritted teeth, he says.

Joel has confessed his wrongdoings, but it’s not enough. To you, he owes you more than just an explanation.

“I don’t believe you.” Devoid of any emotion—any feeling—you state. “You told me that you were going to Tommy’s last night to watch the Cowboys game. But Tommy came here at six o’clock asking for you, and said that they weren’t even fucking set to play! You’re a fucking liar, Joel!”

He backs away with both hands up, completely defeated. You’re tenacious, when you want to be. Sanctimonious. He knows he’ll never win an argument, so he walks away to leave you alone with time to cool off.

But to you—to most people—that’s him giving up.

Joel takes the keys to his truck from the fruit bowl beside the front door, grabs his jacket and unlocks the front door.

He turns to you without even so much as a smile. “Call me when you’re ready to have an adult fucking conversation.”

Joel slams shut the door and you begin to fume all over again. To your left is a picture of the two of you last summer—when you were happy and carefree in Mykonos—and you know that it won’t do anything to help the issue, but you grab it. With a firm hand, you launch it at the door.

Fragments of glass shatter against the door, the floor and fly across the room in every which direction perfectly depicting the current state of your heart after Joel started to break it.

Your eyes are streaming again, hearing his truck peel away from the sidewalk and to god-knows fucking where.

But there’s no use in crying over him anymore. You just need to tolerate it. Tolerate this. Because Joel knows it’ll take more than an “I’m sorry” to really make it up to you.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x afab reader #tlou #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlou x afab reader

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kckt88 · 3 days

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A Heartbeat Between Us X.

Summary:

Aemond has one more surprise for Y.N. as the two of them look to the future.

Warning(s): Drama, Fluff, Alcohol, Swearing, Kissing, Smut, Dom/Sub, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V, P in A,

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 6130

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Aemond and Y.N. were nestled comfortably under the covers, their bodies close, savouring the warmth and quiet after their second round of sex.

Aemond’s arm was wrapped protectively around her, and Y.N. rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing soft circles on his skin. Just as they began to drift into a peaceful silence, there was a knock at the door.

Aemond sighed, kissing the top of her head before reluctantly slipping out of bed. “That’ll be Aegon with Jack,” he muttered, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the floor and pulling them on.

Y.N. watched him with a soft smile as he padded to the door.

Aemond swung it open to find Aegon standing there, pushing Jack’s pram with one hand and holding Y.N.’s suitcase in the other.

“Why didn’t you just come in?” Aemond asked, stepping aside to let him in. “The door was unlocked.”

Aegon walked in with a shrug. “Well, I didn’t know if you and Y.N. were getting busy in the bedroom or wherever the mood took you and I didn’t think it was appropriate for Jack to be witness to such depraved shenanigans.”

Aemond scoffed, rolling his eye. “This, coming from the guy who once had a threesome with a married couple?”

Aegon shot him a look of mock offense. “In my defence, I didn’t know it was a threesome at first.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Still stayed, though, didn’t you?”

Aegon grinned unapologetically. “Hell yeah. The wife was hot. But the husband, he was—"

“That’s enough,” Aemond cut him off sharply, though a hint of amusement tugged at his lips as he reached down to lift Jack from his pram.

Jack gurgled happily, kicking his tiny legs as Aemond cradled him close.

Y.N. appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, dressed in one of Aemond’s t-shirts and a pair of his shorts, looking effortlessly beautiful.

She glanced at the suitcase Aegon had brought in and asked, “Is that my suitcase?”

Aegon nodded, smirking. “Yep. Took the liberty of packing up all your stuff, so you don’t have to go back.”

Y.N. looked slightly surprised. “You packed everything?”

Aegon shrugged again. “Yeah, everything that belonged to you and Jack. The place was bare minimum anyway.”

Y.N. smiled gratefully, brushing off the idea of sorting through her suitcase for the time being.

She stepped over to Aemond and pressed a kiss to Jack’s head, her voice soft. “It’s getting late. Probably a good idea to put him to bed.”

Aemond nodded in agreement, bouncing Jack gently in his arms. “I’ll take care of it.”

As Aemond headed to the nursery, Aegon looked around the penthouse, plopping down on the couch with an exaggerated sigh.

“Hey, can I crash here tonight? I’ll head home in the morning.”

Aemond, now halfway to the nursery, called back, “Sure, you can stay in the spare room.”

Aegon, never missing an opportunity to be his usual self, added, “By the way, if you two are going to get it on at some point tonight, I don’t mind hearing Y.N, but Aemond—needs to keep his voice down? I don’t want to hear his groaning. Makes for one very awkward wank-”

Y.N. burst into laughter. “You’re so gross, Aegon,” she said, shaking her head.

Aegon grinned, completely unfazed. “Yeah, I know. I’ve learned to live with it.”

The smell of food drifted through the penthouse, stirring Aegon from his sleep. Groggily, he pushed himself out of bed, rubbing a hand over his face before following the delicious aroma to the kitchen.

As he stepped in, he saw Y.N. at the stove, expertly cooking breakfast, and Aemond sitting at the table, cradling Jack in his arms.

Aemond looked up with a smirk. “Good morning, Uncle Eggy.”

Aegon rolled his eyes, plopping down into a chair. “I haven’t been called that in years.”

“Yeah, I know,” Aemond replied, still smirking as he adjusted Jack in his arms, making the baby giggle.

Aegon’s gaze shifted to the stove, his mouth practically watering. “What you cooking, Y.N.?”

Without turning, Y.N. answered, “Bacon, eggs, sausages, hashbrowns, beans, and cheeky bit of fried bread-”

Aegon’s eyes widened in delight. “Oh, please say there’s some for me.”

Y.N. shrugged playfully. “There might be,” she teased as she plated the breakfast and brought it to the table.

Aegon wasted no time, practically inhaling his food, while Aemond deftly managed to eat one-handed, using his fork with one hand and holding Jack with the other.

Y.N. noticed Aemond’s multitasking and offered, “I can take him, you know.”

Aemond shook his head. “No, you finish your breakfast first. I’ve got him.”

Y.N. smiled at the sight of Aemond holding their son so comfortably while Aegon barely came up for air between bites.

“Slow down, Aegon, you’ll give yourself indigestion.”

Aegon groaned, pushing the last bit of sausage into his mouth. “It’s been ages since I had a proper cooked breakfast.”

Aemond smirked as he took another bite. “Maybe if you got up before dinner time, you could cook one for yourself.”

Aegon scoffed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Me? Cook? Next joke-”

As they finished breakfast, Aemond passed Jack to Y.N., who happily took him into her arms, cooing softly.

Aemond stood and began clearing the table, tossing a glance at Aegon. “Come on, you can help with the washing up.”

Aegon groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Ugh, really?”

But Aemond shot him a look, and with a heavy sigh, Aegon reluctantly got up to help.

As he half-heartedly rinsed a dish, Aemond grabbed a towel and whipped it at Aegon’s side, earning a yelp.

“Ow! Alright, alright, I’m helping!” Aegon laughed, rubbing his side before going back to work.

After Aegon had left the penthouse, Y.N. turned to Aemond, her curiosity piqued. "Are you going into work today?"

Aemond shook his head, his gaze soft as he looked at her. "No, I’ve got the day off. I wanted to spend it with you and Jack." He paused, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "But, I do have a surprise for you."

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise? What is it?"

Aemond chuckled. "If I tell you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?"

She pouted, crossing her arms. "That’s not fair."

He leaned in, kissing her gently. "I’m sure you’ll survive. Now go get dressed, and I’ll get Jack ready."

With a teasing roll of her eyes, Y.N. pressed a quick kiss to his lips before heading to the bedroom. Deciding on something comfy but still presentable, she settled on a pair of jeans and a soft sweater.

When she returned, she found Aemond waiting by the door, Jack securely strapped into his car seat, his little feet kicking in excitement.

Aemond grinned at her. "Ready? Let’s get going."

Y.N. followed him out to the car, watching as Aemond made sure Jack was secure before getting in himself.

They drove out of the city, the familiar high-rises and busy streets giving way to rolling hills and tranquil greenery.

After about twenty minutes, they pulled up to a beautiful, small manor nestled among trees and gardens—not as grand as Targaryen Manor, but stunning in its own right.

Y.N. got out of the car, looking around in awe. "What are we doing here?"

Aemond came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "This," he whispered, "is our new home."

Y.N. gasped, turning in his arms to look at him. "What? Really?"

He nodded, his gaze full of warmth. "Do you like it?"

"It’s beautiful," she breathed, her eyes wide as she took in the surroundings. "But-what about the penthouse?"

Aemond sighed softly, his hand gently caressing her back. "As much as I like living there, it’s not exactly ideal for a family. And after everything with Alys, I want a fresh start. For all of us."

With Jack in his arms, Aemond guided her to the front door, unlocking it and stepping inside. Y.N. gasped again as she entered, the interior even more breathtaking than the outside—old-fashioned yet elegant, with tasteful decor and large, sunlit rooms.

Every detail seemed carefully chosen, full of charm and warmth.

"What do you think?" Aemond asked, watching her intently.

"It’s amazing," Y.N. said, her voice soft with wonder as she moved through the house. She admired the spacious rooms, imagining how perfect they’d be for their growing family.

Aemond led her to the back garden, showing her the lush greenery and wide-open space.

"Just imagine," Aemond said, his voice full of hope. "We could have a little slide and a swing set for Jack when he gets older. He could have all this room to play."

Y.N. smiled, picturing their son running through the grass, and felt a warm surge of happiness.

Aemond wasn’t done yet, though. He took her hand, leading her to a building situated behind the garage. Unlocking the door, he stepped aside, letting her see the large, open space inside.

"I thought this could be your restoration workshop," he said, his voice tinged with excitement. "It’s plenty big enough, and it can be a step towards opening your own business."

Y.N. felt tears spring to her eyes, her heart overflowing with emotion. She hadn’t expected something like this.

The gesture was so thoughtful, so perfect. She covered her face as the tears flowed, overwhelmed by how much Aemond had considered her dreams.

Aemond’s face turned to panic. "I—I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?"

She shook her head, reaching out to wrap her arms around him as Jack gurgled between them. "No, no-I’m crying because it’s so wonderful."

Aemond smiled in relief, his own eye softening as he pulled her close. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I really am."

As they stood in the spacious workshop, Y.N. looked up at Aemond, her heart still racing from the surprise. "How long have you been planning this?"

Aemond smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "A few weeks. I was going to surprise you, but then-everything with Alys happened, and I thought I’d lost you."

Y.N. took his hand, squeezing it gently. "Let’s put all that behind us and look to the future. We’ve come through it, and now we have so much to look forward to."

Aemond nodded, his expression softening. "You're right." He paused for a moment, then asked, "So, when do you want to move in?"

Y.N. smiled, feeling excited at the thought. "Whenever you’re ready."

He glanced around the house, thinking for a moment. "I want to get some people in to give the place a good clean. It's been stood empty for a while. How about in two weeks?"

"Two weeks sounds perfect," Y.N. agreed, already imagining making this place their home.

Aemond grinned, relieved that everything was falling into place. "Now that’s sorted, I can tell Aegon the good news."

Y.N. tilted her head, curious. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon wants the penthouse," Aemond explained with a chuckle. "As much as he enjoys living with Daeron, he wants his own space. So, I told him if this move worked out, he could live there."

Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. "He’s going to be overjoyed."

Aemond smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, until he sees how much rent I’m going to charge him."

She playfully swatted his arm. "You wouldn’t!"

"Why not?" Aemond raised an eyebrow. "I own the penthouse outright. I’m not going to sell it, so renting it to Aegon makes sense."

"But it’s Aegon," Y.N. teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "He doesn’t even have a job."

Aemond chuckled. "Actually, he does. He owns The Dragon’s Den."

Y.N.’s mouth dropped open. "Of course, Aegon would own a club. Now it makes sense when you said you knew the owner."

"Yeah, he hasn’t always owned it-" Aemond explained. "-it’s a more recent purchase, but if anyone can make it work, it’s Aegon. He’s always been good at organizing parties."

Y.N. laughed, shaking her head. "That is so Aegon."

Aemond smiled softly, pulling her closer. "Yeah, it’s perfect for him”.

The last game night at the penthouse was filled with warmth and laughter as Y.N., Aemond, Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around the table.

Daeron dealt the cards while Aegon leaned back in his chair, stretching.

“How many moving boxes do you even need?” Aegon asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y.N. smirked, playfully nudging Aemond. “Oh, those are just for Aemond’s hair products.”

Aemond frowned, trying to suppress a smile. “Hey, I don’t use that many.”

Aegon laughed loudly. “Sod off! I remember when you were living at the manor, and you had a special cupboard for all your hair stuff.”

Aemond scoffed, crossing his arms. “It wasn’t a special cupboard.”

Helaena giggled, chiming in, “Yes, it was. It had a lock on it and everything. No one was allowed to touch it.”

Daeron leaned forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, do you remember when Aegon picked the lock and poured your scented hair oil out? Replaced it with vodka?”

Aemond’s lips pressed into a thin line as he muttered, “It wasn’t funny. People thought I had a drinking problem for about a week because I smelled like a brewery.”

Aegon grinned proudly. “It was rather funny.”

“For you, maybe,” Aemond shot back, rolling his eye.

Y.N. laughed softly, squeezing Aemond’s hand. “How come you didn’t notice when you were putting it on your hair?”

Aemond sighed, his pride slightly wounded. “Turns out it was scented vodka.”

Y.N. burst out laughing. Aegon pointed triumphantly at her. “See! Told you it was funny.”

Before they could continue, the sound of Jack crying echoed from the other room. Y.N. stood up and pointed at the group. “No looking at my cards, you damn cheaters.”

Aegon scoffed as she left. “The nerve to call us cheaters when she’s the one who always wins at poker. Always wins, my arse.”

Helaena shrugged, grinning. “No, it’s just because you suck, Aegon.”

Y.N. reappeared at the door, a question on her lips. “Aemond, where’s Jack’s stuffed dragon teddy?”

Aemond thought for a moment. “In the box labelled Jack’s room. Is he okay?”

Y.N. nodded. “He’s just a bit unsettled. I think he needs his snuggies with his teddy.” She disappeared again to tend to Jack.

Just then, a knock came at the door, and Aegon cheered, “Food’s here, finally! I’m starving.”

Aemond and Helaena helped dish up the Chinese takeout while Y.N. returned to the room a few moments later.

Aemond handed her a plate. “Jack okay?”

Y.N. smiled as she sat down. “Yeah. He’s asleep now.”

As she started to eat, Aegon made a move toward her plate, reaching for a piece of prawn toast. Y.N. held up her fork threateningly. “Touch my food, feel my fork.”

Aegon groaned, dramatically leaning back in his chair. “Not this again. Don’t be tight—share!”

Y.N. grinned, teasing him. “I’ll swap you one of my prawn toasts for one of your spring rolls.”

Aegon scowled. “They’re my favourites!”

“And prawn toast is my favourite,” Y.N. replied, biting into one.

With a defeated sigh, Aegon pushed a spring roll her way. “Fine. Take one, just hand over the toast, woman.”

Y.N. handed him the prawn toast, smirking in victory.

As they settled into their meal, Helaena asked, “Do you have everything sorted at your new place?”

Aemond nodded. “Yes, I was there yesterday overseeing a furniture delivery.”

Helaena smiled. “So, you’re not taking any of the furniture from here?”

“No,” Aemond said, shaking his head. “It doesn’t fit with the older style of the manor. We want to preserve the traditional feel, so we’re just taking our personal possessions.”

“I love that you’re keeping the traditional style,” Helaena said, clearly excited. “None of that modern trend.”

“I’m not really into the modern look either,” Y.N. agreed. “I think it takes away a place’s character.”

As they finished their meal, Y.N. and Helaena got up to clear the plates and load the dishwasher.

Y.N. glanced over her shoulder at Aemond, who was laughing with his brothers. The sound of his deep laughter filled the room, a rare and heartwarming sound.

Helaena, standing beside her, smiled softly. “This is the happiest I’ve ever seen Aemond.”

“Really?” Y.N. asked, her heart swelling with affection.

Helaena nodded. “It’s nice to see him smile like this.” Turning to Y.N., she added, “Thank you for loving him the way he deserves.”

Y.N.’s eyes glistened as she smiled back at Helaena, feeling a warmth in her chest. "He deserves the world."

After Helaena, Daeron, and Aegon had left, a calm settled over the penthouse. Y.N. stretched and smiled, feeling content after the evening spent with Aemond’s siblings. “I think I’m going to have a bath,” she said,

Aemond, already seated on the sofa with a glass of whiskey, nodded, his gaze soft and appreciative as he watched her. “Enjoy,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

Upstairs, Y.N. entered the bathroom, the faint scent of roses already wafting through the air as she poured a generous amount of rose-scented bubble bath into the filling tub.

The soothing fragrance wrapped around her as steam rose from the water. She pinned her hair up, undressed, and slipped into the tub, sighing in pure bliss as the warmth enveloped her.

The soft bubbles floated around her, and the tension of the day melted away with each passing second.

After washing herself, a mischievous thought entered her mind. A small smirk played on her lips as she called out, “Aemond?”

A few moments later, the bathroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped in, a curious expression on his face. “You called?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

Y.N. looked up at him through her lashes, her smile playful. “I did. I was hoping you could give me a kiss.”

Aemond chuckled, his lips curving into a smile. He set down his glass and walked over to her, kneeling next to the tub. His eye softened as he leaned closer, as he reached out, brushing a few stray bubbles off her shoulder, and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

The warmth of the bath, mixed with the heat of his kiss, made her heart race. Y.N. smiled against his lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, "Thank you."

Aemond lingered close, his gaze flicking between her eyes and lips, his voice low and teasing. "That all you wanted?"

Y.N. smiled up at Aemond, her eyes glimmering with mischief as she leaned a little closer, her lips just inches from his.

“No,” she whispered, her voice soft yet laced with desire. “That’s not all I wanted.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Oh?" His voice was low, the playful challenge clear. "And what else do you want?"

Instead of answering with words, Y.N. leaned forward, her hand sliding up to cup the back of his neck.

She pulled him closer and kissed him deeply, passionately. The warmth of her lips sent a jolt of heat through him as he responded instantly, his hand moving to gently cradle her face as he kissed her back with equal fervour.

“Y.N” exclaimed Aemond his singular eye dilated.

“I want you to fuck me in this bath-”.

Aemond smiled, of course had absolutely no problem with that.

Standing up, he quickly pulled off his clothes, his cock already half hard.

He took a step towards the bath, but Y.N stopped him with a hand on his pale thigh.

Looking up at Aemond’s face, she licked her lips and moved her hand from his thigh to wrap around his cock.

Stroking it, she licked around the head with her tongue, teasing and tasting his slit.

Aemond drew in his breath at her touch. Y.N opened her mouth and engulfed the head, sucking it into her wet heat.

Aemond hissed with each stroke of her hand, she pulled inch after inch of his cock into her mouth.

Her tongue brushed the underside of his shaft as she leisurely fucked his cock with her mouth.

Her hand slid smoothly along his wet length with firm, deliberate strokes –

“N-No m-more” muttered Aemond, quickly stepping free.

Y.N looked at him silently, with her wet lips barely parted.

Her large eyes locked with his and Aemond faltered slightly. It was truly amazing how she could bring him to his knees without even saying a word.

“You want me to fuck you hard?” asked Aemond as he pulled off his eyepatch, the sapphire nestled in his socket glittering.

“Yes” whispered Y.N as she slowly licked her lips and swallowed.

Aemond closed his eye for a brief moment and took a deep breath before he slid into the warm water.

Slowly he moved towards her until his body hovered over hers.

“Promise me you'll use the safe word if it gets too much” murmured Aemond.

Y.N trembled from the intensity of his tone.

“I don't need a safe word. I said want you to fuck me hard, and I meant it-”

“Promise me that you'll tell me if it's too much” said Aemond.

Y.N squeezed her thighs together, trying desperately to stimulate her clitoris. She was certain she'd never been this turned on before.

“Yes. Aemond” replied Y.N.

Aemond’s smile was cold.

“Good” said Aemond as his hand closed around her throat, and with his thumb he pushed her chin up to meet his commanding kiss.

After stealing Y.N’s kiss and breath from her body, Aemond let her go and moved to the opposite end of the oversized bath. The water slipped and sloshed over the edges.

Aemond lay against the bath's edge, hooking his arms around it lazily. His gaze was hooded.

“Now. Suck my cock”.

Swallowing, Y.N headed over to him, bracing herself against the bath's sides. She saw his impressive erection through the water, magnified to a daunting size.

But Aemond didn't raise his hips.

“Now” ordered Aemond, his tone gave little room for argument.

Y.N took a deep breath and slid under the water, gripping his erection a little harder than she would ordinarily have dared.

Aemond didn't move.

Y.N put her lips to his head then quickly pulled his cock into her mouth, forming a tight seal so water didn’t enter.

Stroking his shaft firmly, she moved up and down, swallowing his head and as much of his length as she could, sucking hard.

Y.N’s hearing was somewhat clouded by the surrounding water.

So she didn't hear Aemond’s sharp intake of breath, and she couldn't see how he tilted his head back, eye closed against the glorious streaks of pleasure coursing through his body.

Aemond couldn't remember the last time he was this hard.

Y.N’s head broke clear of the water, she gasped for breath and pushed her streaming-wet hair back over her head.

Aemond looked at her with the same cool expression he'd had since he kissed her.

“Again” ordered Aemond sternly.

Chest heaving, Y.N stared at him. His eye: normally cool and blue, now burned with an intensity she’d never seen before.

She slid beneath the water again, making her way to his almost-pulsing erection.

After her third descent, eyes closed against the water, Y.N felt an elegant hand descend on her head – and lock her head in place. Her mouth full of Aemond.

Drawing her fingers around his balls, she couldn't resist the temptation to pinch them – and was rewarded with his fingers clutching her head in instinctive response.

Y.N sucked Aemond’s cock until she felt her cheeks bulge and her lungs burn. She felt light-headed. Yet still he kept her head underwater. Her heart pounded from exhilaration and fear.

How long would he force her?

But Aemond’s grip on her head suddenly loosened and she surged up, water heaving out of the bath, drawing great amounts of air into her starved body.

Disoriented and dizzy, her body swayed dangerously as Aemond pressed her to lay back against the cool edge of the bath and hooked his arms around her thighs, lifting her lower half out of the water, his mouth descending on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into her core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could. Still gasping, Y.N clutched at his head with one hand, her other hand scrabbled for purchase slippery edge of the bath tub.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips.

He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Y.N ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Aemond growled, deep in his throat; the vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Y.N gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak–

But Aemond pushed her off him.

Starved of her release, Y.N shrieked in vexation – then her breath left her body as he shoved her against the edge of the bath.

Breathing hard, Aemond pushed her hair away from her face – then he held her face in his hands and kissed her, drawing her breath from her once more as she tasted the salt-sweetness of her body on his lips and tongue.

Aemond pulled away, just far enough to capture her stare.

“You had enough?” rasped Aemond.

“Not even close. Do your worst. I can take it” challenged Y.N.

A spark briefly ignited Aemond’s gaze, and before she could speak again, his hand pressed against her throat, cutting off her air once more.

“You really want it?” asked Aemond. He let her nod; once, twice.

Aemond removed his hand, and Y.N gasped for breath again, howling in need as he suddenly slid two long fingers into her cunt and speared them in and out of her at a brutal pace.

His palm bumped against her clit with each hard thrust. In the space of a second, Y.N’s peak came reappeared.

Gods, she needed it, she needed it so bad.

Aemond’s lips were at her ear, whispered harshly. “I can feel your body, love. Your cunny’s clutching my fingers. You're desperate for it, aren't you?”

“Y-Yes” gasped Y.N, closing her eyes and focussing on the swirling sensation building in her pelvis.

“Is that a fact?” Aemond taunted with his beautiful mouth, his tongue licking at her earlobe Y.N didn't think it was possible, but he sped his fingers up, and she knew she would gush all over his hand, in the bath, down her legs – and she didn't care, it felt so fucking good.

“Aemond!” gasped Y.N, writhing against him, yet he pulled his fingers out of her body and moved away.

“FUCK!” screamed Y.N in frustration.

The corner of Aemond’s mouth tilted, looking her slowly up and down as he began to stroke himself.

“You don't come until I say you can. If I say you can”

Frustrated almost beyond sanity, Y.N closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Enough?” asked Aemond smirking.

Y.N raised her head and glared at him defiantly.

“Not even close”

Aemond acknowledged her response with a circling motion of his index finger.

Y.N obeyed and spun around, staring at the wall of the bathroom. She couldn't see but she heard Aemond move behind her.

Her heart began to pound with anticipation.

“Good” replied Aemond, as he smacked her luscious buttocks with his open hand.

The sting of his hand on her flesh took Y.N by surprise, and she gasped before yelping. Heat bloomed over her assaulted backside.

Ignoring her, Aemond delivered spank after spank to her bottom, never landing on the same place twice.

“Say the safe word” snarled Aemond, still not letting up.

“NO” cried Y.N, trying to stimulate her neglected clitoris between the top of her thighs.

She would not give in. She would not back down. She asked for her fiancé to do his worst and fuck her hard and she meant every fucking word.

Instantly, his lips were at her ear again.

“Liking it are you” taunted Aemond.

“Please fuck me” whispered Y.N against the bath.

“Oh, like this?” asked Aemond, and a second later his hard length filled her cunny in one smooth stroke.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Y.N.

He began to move in and out of her in a series of deep measured thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond, as he began to fuck her faster.

Y.N bit her lip hard. She didn't want to let him know how close she was to release.

“Bet you're wondering when I'm going to let you come.” said Aemond.

Y.N moaned in the affirmative, and he slowed down. She heard the slick sound of their flesh connecting over the sloshing water in the bath.

“Not like this, that's for sure” said Aemond as he withdrew.

Y.N whined desperately.

“But since you've been a very good girl, I'll tell you, if you like?”

“Y-Yes. P-Please” moaned Y.N, her legs shaking.

Aemond laid a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades.

“You, my dear, are going to come with my cock shoved right inside your gorgeous arse”

Before Y.N could react, Aemond spat generously in his hand and spread it over his finger and around the entry to her arse. She felt his finger on her little rosette, and it felt so naughty, it was good.

“Yes, or no?” asked Aemond

Y.N didn't even have to think twice.

“Yes, Aemond” moaned Y.N as Aemond slowly inserted his finger into her body.

He worked in silence for a while, easing his finger in and out of her arse until she could take it easily.

Pulling out, he added a second finger and brushed both around her hole.

“Yes, or no?” Aemond asked again...

“Aemond. I want you take my arse and fuck it until I scream out your name. I need to come, please. Do not deprive me any longer” begged Y.N.

Aemond let out a breath of air, but no words. Silently, he breached her arse once more.

Y.N screamed, and Aemond panicked. He started to back his fingers out, but she begged “No, no, oh god it feels so fucking good I can barely stand it”.

Aemond continued to work his way into her tight space. When his fingers were fully inside her, he put his lips to her ear again.

“I'm going to take your arse” whispered Aemond, pumping his fingers slowly in and out.

“Yes” gasped Y.N as she pushed against Aemond’s slender talented finger’s.

“I'm going to breach your arse with my cock and fill you all the way up. It's going to feel so good, love, I can't wait to feel you come”

Y.N’s teeth were gritted, and she grunted low in her throat each time his fingers surged in.

“Yes” moaned Y.N loudly. Aemond slapped her buttock, and she wailed again.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir” moaned Y.N. She was pushing back against his hand, so he spread his fingers inside her, accommodating her to his size.

At last, she was ready for him.

Aemond reached over to the small cabinet next to the bath, praying the contents hadn’t been packed already and he let out a joyful cheer when his fingers closed around the bottle of lubricant.

Aemond bent her over, so her hands gripped the edge of the bath with her legs open for him. Lubricating his cock, he almost salivated at the sight she made. Y.N’s cunny was plump and glossy.

So very tempting, but he was after another prize tonight.

Aemond pressed the head of his cock to the entrance of her arse, and Y.N moaned in need, he pushed through her entrance and past her sphincter muscle, swearing loudly as it gripped him unbelievably tight.

“Oh gods. Oh yes” moaned Y.N, flinging her head back. Aemond eased himself slowly and smoothly into her tight anal passage, trying not to pass out from the sheer fucking bliss of it.

Eventually, Y.N took his entire cock.

“Come with me Aemond. I want to come when you come”

Aemond withdrew a little and surged inside again. Over and over, he did this withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her now-widened entrance.

He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his fiancée was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, plunging his cock into her arse over and over, thrilling to hear Y.N’s moans of need. Bracing her arms, she pushed against him so he could shove his cock in.

Harder and faster.

Aemond felt his balls draw in; his peak was approaching. He snaked a hand around Y.N’s body and played with her clitoris, rubbing it with his fingers.

“Oh gods” moaned Y.N as her whole body shook.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond, his thrusts starting to jerk.

He was close. So close.

Y.N screamed as her desperately-needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body clenched around Aemond’s cock.

Aemond’s own peak nearly took him off his feet. The sensation took over his body as he spilled rope after rope of his seed, he had no recollection of what he did or said for the good minute it took for his peak to crest, then subside.

He had never come so hard in his life.

Breathing hard, Aemond gently pulled out and enveloped Y.N’s shaking limbs into a tight hug.

“I-I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Not at all” replied Y.N quietly as she slowly descended down into the cool bath water.

Aemond stood in the street, the keys dangling from his hand as he stared at Aegon. "Alright, here you go," he said, handing them over.

Aegon accepted them with a gleeful grin, twirling them around his finger.

"Don't forget," Aemond warned, narrowing his eye at his brother, "I still own this place, and I won't have you trash it."

Aegon raised his hands in mock innocence. "Would I ever?"

Aemond crossed his arms. "No wild parties, no orgies, no drugs, and absolutely no ritual animal slaughters of any kind—wow god I’m giving him ideas”

Aegon chuckled, shaking his head. "First of all, ritual animal slaughters? What the actual hell, Aemond? And are you sure about the orgies? Because—"

"Absolutely no orgies!" Aemond cut him off, exasperated. "I still have PTSD from walking in on you and those three girls back when we lived at home."

Aegon’s eyes twinkled as he remembered. "Oh, that was something else. And I did invite you to join, as I recall. You’re the one who declined."

"You’re damn right I did," Aemond muttered, shuddering. "I didn’t even know any of those girls, and I definitely didn’t want to see your bare arse."

At that moment, Y.N. appeared next to Aemond, catching the tail end of the conversation. "What’s this about Aegon’s bare arse?" she asked, amused, her eyebrows raised.

Aegon huffed dramatically. "He said I can’t have orgies," he replied, pouting like a child being denied a treat.

Y.N. shot Aemond a sympathetic look. "Well, that's understandable," she said. "But, wait—how do you even manage to have an orgy?"

Aegon grinned devilishly. "Oh, it can be exhausting," he said with a wink, "but I am very generous. Everyone gets a turn, and I’m not selfish either. In fact, why don’t—"

Aemond groaned, cutting him off. "That's enough of your depravity."

"You're such a spoil sport," Aegon muttered under his breath, though the smile never left his face.

Y.N. chuckled as she looked at Aemond. "Jack’s all strapped into the car, and everything’s ready."

Aemond gave the penthouse one last lingering look, his gaze softening for just a moment. Y.N. noticed and asked gently, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Aemond replied, nodding. "Just-saying goodbye to this place."

Y.N. smiled, understanding, and got into the car. Aemond turned to Aegon one last time, his face serious. "Remember what I said, Aegon, or I’ll kick your arse."

Aegon grinned, clearly not taking the threat too seriously. "I’ll be good," he promised, waving them off as they headed down to the car.

Aegon stood watching Aemond climb into the driver’s seat. He waved at Y.N., who waved back, and he watched as they drove away, followed closely by the moving van.

As the car disappeared from view, Aegon turned back to the penthouse, keys in hand, and grinned. "Well, guess it’s time to break this place in."

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader

101 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 1 day

Text

Capturing the Spark

Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.

Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.

Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.

Summer:Nothing good.

She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.

Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?

Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.

Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.

Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.

Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.

Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.

Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?

Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?

Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.

Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.

Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.

Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.

Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.

Summer:Where is he right now?

Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.

Summer:Wow!

Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.

Summer:….

Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.

Summer:You’ve done that too!?

Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.

Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.

Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.

And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.

Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……

xxxxxx

Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?

Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?

Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-

��VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶

Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.

Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.

Jaune:A eulogy?

Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.

#rwby #rwbabies #summer schnee #weiss schnee #jaune arc #rwby whiteknight #rwby twin snowflakes

54 notes · View notes

angegiarratanawriter · 2 days

Text

Unplanned

Warnings: Smut, Intersex Character, Pregnancy

Word Count: 8292

Summary: A hook up after a night at the club has unexpected consequences

After a long shoot week at the Smosh office, some of the cast decides that you all deserve a night out. So, after wrapping on your final sketch on Friday, everyone heads out to Courtney’s favorite club in hopes of being able to let loose for the night. After all, you’ve all worked hard this week and could do with blowing off some steam.

As you walk into the club with Angela and Amanda by your side, you clench your jaw in anticipation. You’ve always liked going out with your friends, but a dive bar with karaoke is much more your scene than the loud music and flashing lights. The feeling of the bass pounding through your chest is already making your heart beat faster, and you readjust the collar of your crop top to give yourself some more room to breathe.

“Bar first?” Angela asks, looking at you and Amanda.

“Sure,” you reply.

“I could use a drink,” Amanda agrees.

You follow Angela up to the bar, where she opens a tab and orders all of you drinks. It’s a little bit surprising that she knows what you want before you do, but she’s always been attentive, and you have been going out together more since you moved in with her. When the bartender comes back with your martini, you take a sip and revel in the shiver that rolls down your spine at the taste.

“Good?” Angela asks, taking a sip of her rum and coke.

“One of the better ones I’ve had,” you say before taking another sip. “It’s a little strong, though.”

“Strong’s good,” Amanda nearly yells, having to raise her voice over the music.

“True.”

Before the conversation can take a turn in a different direction, you are being joined by a couple more of your castmates. Courtney and Shayne show up together, with Arasha and Chanse right behind them. They’re quick to get their own drinks, and then Amanda is ordering a round of shots to really get the party started. You take yours immediately, wanting to get to the other side of the nausea that hits after drinking tequila.

For now, everyone seems to content to stay at the bar, and that’s fine by you. You like dancing, but it’s always better when you’re already a little bit tipsy. When Courtney orders another round of shots, you realize that you’ll probably be there sooner rather than later, not that you really mind either way. This time it’s vodka, and it goes down a little bit smoother than the tequila did.

“Hey,” you hear an unfamiliar voice say from beside you.

You look up to find a girl with short dark hair and brown eyes looking at you with a coy smile on her face. If you’re honest, the smirk reminds you a little bit of Angela. That’s the only reason that you decide to actually talk to this girl. Usually you’d shoot people down when you’re out with your friends, but you’ve got a buzz going, and you realize that this is probably going to be one of those nights where all you think about is your feelings for your roommate.

“Hey,” you say, giving the girl a smile in return.

“I’m Ava. Can I buy you a drink?”

Before you have the chance to answer, you feel a strong arm come to wrap around your waist. You almost jump out of your skin at the contact, having not been expecting it. After taking a deep breath to regain your composure, you look up to find that it’s Angela who’s come to stand next to you. She’s glaring at the girl standing across from you, but as soon as she realizes she has your attention, she gives you hers.

“Hey, some of us are gonna go hit the dance floor,” Angela says. “You coming?”

“Uh, I-” You cut yourself off when you feel Angela’s hand squeeze at your waist, a clear indicator that you coming is not a debate. “Sure, yeah.”

With a sheepish smile in apology to the girl who had offered to buy you a drink, you follow your roommate out onto the dance floor. Chanse and Courtney are already there, and you can see Amanda and Arasha on their way back from what you guess is the bathroom. The only one missing is Shayne, but you find him closing out his tab when you glance back at the bar.

The song changes as you reach your friends, and you’re thrust into a throng of bodies dedicated to moving to the beat. You’re able to catch up quickly, moving your hips and throwing your arms in the air, just letting the bass settle deep inside your chest to guide you. The next hour is spent getting lost to the music and just enjoying being in the moment, something that you really haven’t gotten to do in a while. Maybe clubs are more fun than you thought.

As another, more sensual song starts blaring through the speakers, you feel a strong pair of hands grip your waist. A flash of short brown hair catches your eye, and you’re really hoping that the girl from the bar has come back to take another shot, because if it isn’t her, then that would mean that it’s Angela, and you don’t know if you could handle that.

Content to live in the fantasy for as long as you can, you press your hips back and start moving with the music again. The contact is intense, setting your whole body on fire and burning you from the inside out. The buzz that had been running through your veins for most of the night is starting to fizzle out, getting replaced by something else. Fuck, you’re gonna go home with this girl.

That though is only solidified when you grind back again and feel something hard pressing into your ass. You choke back a moan, your eyes closing and your head falling back against your dance partner’s shoulder. This ends up leaving you neck exposed, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel soft lips pressed against a patch of skin just below your ear. A moan does tumble out of your mouth this time, and you hear a soft chuckle that decidedly doesn’t come from bar girl.

“You’re so hot like this,” Angela murmurs in your ear, nipping it lightly. “Such a beautiful mess, and I haven’t even really started yet.”

“Oh, yeah?” you challenge, gasping when she pulls your hips back into hers. “What does ‘started’ look like?”

“Us finding a really dark corner in this place and you getting on your knees for me.”

“As much as I would love that, we really shouldn’t do this here.”

“You don’t have a choice, baby. You think I’m getting in a cab when I’m this hard?”

“Fuck, okay. Together or separate?”

“Together,” Angela answers, biting down roughly on your neck. “Everybody else is distracted, so we don’t have to worry about being seen.”

You nod and start to pull away, but Angela’s hands stay steady on your waist, not letting you move. The action is hot, you’ve always loved a display of strength, but it’s also confusing. Didn’t she just say she wanted to find somewhere more private? When you feel a hand trail in between your bodies and the shift of something hard against your ass, you realize exactly why she had kept you in place.

“What, don’t want anyone to see how turned on you are for me?” you tease.

“Trust me, baby, it has nothing to do with that,” Angela says, leaning closer to your ear. “I couldn’t care less if people saw just how desperate I am for you right now. I just don’t want to get caught before we have the chance to get going.”

“You make a good point. Let’s go.”

As you grab Angela’s hand, you pull her towards the back of the club and down the hallway that houses the bathrooms. You go past them, hoping that there’s some sort of storage closet or something that’s unlocked so that you’re not out in the open. After trying a couple of door knobs, you finally manage to find a room that’s open. You drag Angela inside and lock up behind you before turning on the light to find yourself in what seems to be an office.

“This is as good a place as any,” Angela says, walking behind the desk and leaning back against it. “Over here. On your knees.”

Never one to disobey, you quickly round the desk before moving to kneel for your roommate. Could she technically still be called your roommate after this? You have no idea, and don’t care to find out right now. Instead, you set your sights on the belt that is holding up her jeans and unbuckle it, pulling through the loops. As you toss it to the side, you look up to see her staring down at you with dark eyes.

Swallowing hard, you run your hand over Angela’s length, earning a sigh. You smile as you trail up higher, unbuttoning her jeans and then pulling down the zipper. The sight of her cock straining against her boxers has your eyes widening, and you pause for a minute, wanting to commit all of this to memory. Once you’re sure the image will have a hard time leaving your brain, you pull down her jeans and underwear and start to reach up.

“Wait,” Angela says, grabbing your wrist before you can touch her. “Are you sober enough to consent to this?”

“Yes.”

“And do you consent to this in general?”

“A thousand fucking percent,” you reply.

Angela searches your face for any signs of apprehension or uncertainty, and when she doesn’t find any, she releases your wrist. You smile up at her before moving your attention downwards, reaching out to wrap your fingers around her cock and stroking gently. She lets out a soft sigh, and you decide that your goal tonight is going to be to break her. You want to hear her moan your name.

Wanting to make that a reality as soon as possible, you lean in and lick a line all the way from the base of Angela’s cock all the way up, swirling your tongue around the tip. A hand comes to rest in your hair, encouraging you to keep going, so you do. You dip down and start to take her in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow rhythm. With every bob, you take more of her until your nose is pressing against her stomach. You pause there for a second, looking up.

“Fuck,” Angela grunts. “So good for me. Can I chase it, baby?”

You do your best to nod, and Angela gets the message, because she immediately starts to rut her hips. The feeling of her cock hitting the back of your throat has you dripping, and you briefly consider shoving a hand down your pants just to get some relief before you feel the grip on your hair tighten. She’s close, and you want to focus on getting her there.

As you feel Angela start to tug at your hair, you hollow out your cheeks to create suction while using your tongue to trace the vein on the underside of her cock. You watch as her abs contract, the lines becoming more and more defined the closer to the edge she gets. It’s a beautiful sight to watch, but it doesn’t compare to her throwing her head back and biting down on a moan as she comes.

“Fuck,” Angela says as she comes down. “You-fuck.”

“That good, huh?” you tease as you tuck her cock back into her boxers.

“Better than. Come on, let’s get home so I can return the favor.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“If you think I’m not eating you out after that performance, you are sorely mistaken.”

Deciding not to argue against something you actually want, you stand up and wipe some of the stray spit from the corner of your mouth. Angela tracks the action with a dark gaze, but ends up shaking her head before moving to rezip and button her pants. You grab her belt and hand it to her, and she pulls it through the loops before buckling it in the front.

“Do I look presentable?” Angela asks.

“You’re fine,” you answer, running your fingers through your hair to smooth it out. “Am I good?”

“Yep. Ready to go?”

“For sure.”

Getting out of the office unseen is the easy part. The hard part is making it past your friends without them asking a million questions. Courtney had noticed your absence, but you’re able to play it off by saying that you’d been hugging the toilet in the bathroom for the last twenty minutes, with Angela there to comfort you. Your disheveled appearance helps sell that story, and soon enough you’re both on your way home in a cab.

The drive to your apartment building feels like it takes forever, and the elevator ride up to your floor is even worse. By the time you make it through your front door, you’re practically vibrating with impatience. Luckily for you, Angela is too, because as soon as you both have your shoes off, she lifts you up by the backs of your thighs and carries you down the hallway.

You find yourself being thrown onto her bed, and with in seconds, she’s crawling on top of you and pressing your lips together. Even with everything you’ve done tonight, you have actually kissed, so it takes you a little bit by surprise. It doesn’t take you long to recover, though, and soon you’re pushing back against her lips with equal fervor.

After a few minutes of exploring each other’s mouths, Angela moves down your jawline and then to your neck, kissing and sucking at the same spot she had at the club. Your hips jump at the feeling, and you feel her smirk against your skin before moving down to leave what is definitely going to be a mark on your collarbone. As she starts to move down to your chest, she tugs at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?”

“Fuck yes,” you say, eagerly sitting up.

Angela smirks as she rips the shirt over your head, but the sight of your bare chest wipes it right off of her face. Apparently she hadn’t been ready for you not wearing a bra. She looks up at you with hunger in her eyes, and when you nod, she immediately leans down and takes a nipple in her mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

You arch your back so that Angela can get more of your breast in her mouth, and you moan as you feel her suck hard. A hand comes up to cup your other tit, massaging it gently, and your hips buck into her again. You manage to find some friction this time in the form of Angela’s leg between your thighs, so you start grinding into it, chasing some of the relief that you desperately need.

As Angela switches to lavish your other nipple with affections, you bring your hand up to pinch at the one she just left. This has a wave of heat washing down your spine, and you grind down harder now that the end goal is within reach. Before you can get there, though, strong hands push your hips down into the bed, elimination the friction that had been building you up.

“Baby,” you whine, reaching down to grab her hips and try to pull her flush against you.

“You’re not coming on my thigh,” Angela says as she starts to kiss down your body. “I have somewhere else in mind for that.”

With a wink, Angela undoes the button of your jeans with her teeth and then pulls the zipper down the same way. She makes quick work of pulling them off of your body, and you think she’s about to take your panties off too, but she stops short. When she looks up at you, you realize that she won’t go any farther without your consent.

“I know you said yes at the club, but I need to hear you say it now,” Angela says.

“Yes,” you reply, trying and failing to keep the whine out of your voice.

Consent now established, or re-established, Angela wraps her fingers in the hem of your panties and pulls them down slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as you feel them stick to you, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. In fact, you’re pretty sure you hear her let out a little hum of appreciation.

The first trace of Angela’s tongue against your slit has you crying out her name. You’re embarrassingly close already, but that only seems to spur her on as she draws circles around your clit before briefly moving down to your dripping entrance. She repeats the pattern over and over again, drawing moan after moan from your lips as you feel your core start to tighten.

“Ange, I’m-”

A burst of white hot pleasure explodes from your center, and you feel your entire body start to shake as your orgasm engulfs you. Angela works you down from it expertly, slowing her movements down before completely coming to a stop when you go slack against the bed. You feel start to trail kisses back up your body, and you open your eyes as you feel her breath fanning against your lips.

Embarrassingly, a full body shiver runs through you at the sight of Angela’s face. Her chin is covered in your wetness, and her perfect lips are a darker shade of pink than you’ve ever seen them. Before she has the chance to tease you about your reaction, you lean up and kiss her, moaning at the taste of yourself on her tongue.

“God, you’re so hot,” you murmur. “Fuck, do you have condoms?”

“What?” Angela says, pulling away in surprise.

“Condoms. Do you have them?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to-”

“I don’t, just like you didn’t when you said you wanted to go down on me,” you say, cutting her off. “Unless you don’t want to?”

“I do,” Angela says quickly. “I really fucking do.”

“Then get naked, grab a condom, and come fuck me.”

Angela nearly falls off the bed as she scrambles to get up, but she manages to get her feet under her. She stands up and pulls her collared shirt over her head before undoing the clasp of her bra and letting it fall from her arms. You take a minute to admire the view, but quickly get distracted when Angela pulls off her pants and underwear. She goes into the side table and grabs a condom, ripping the packaging off and rolling it on before climbing back on top of you.

“Are you sure about this?” Angela asks softly, positioning herself between your legs.

“Yes.”

“Because we don’t have to do this. We can leave it here for tonight and talk in the morning, or-”

“Angela, just shut up and fuck me already.”

The desperation in your voice seems to get Angela to understand that you want this, and she lines herself up at your entrance before pushing in. You do your best not to tense up, taking deep breaths to keep your muscles relaxed as she presses more into you. As soon as your hips connect, you feel your walls clench around her cock.

“Fuck, this isn’t gonna last long,” Angela mumbles. “Feels so good.”

Before you have the chance to tell her that you don’t care how long she lasts, she rolls her hips into you. The friction is delicious, and you find your head falling back against the pillows as you let out a loud moan that seems like it bounces off every single wall in your apartment. God, your neighbors are gonna hate you.

As Angela starts to build a rhythm with her thrusts, she shifts her hips slightly on every stroke. You wonder what she’s doing, but then you feel the tip of her cock rub against your g-spot, and you suddenly can’t think anymore. She smirks at the little choking sound that escapes your lips, and then she’s picking up speed and pounding you into the mattress.

It doesn’t take long for Angela to have you worked up and on the brink of orgasm, but you hold it, not wanting to let go yet. You dig your fingertips into her sides to give yourself something to hold onto, and suddenly her hips are stuttering into you. Low grunts are falling from her lips on every thrust now, and her eyes are glazed over as she chases her high.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Angela moans. “I need-I need you to come. I can’t-”

“I’m there,” you whine.

Your walls convulse around Angela’s cock as you come, and your legs try to clamp shut, only to be held open by the girl in between them. A sharp moan escapes your lips, and you hear her say your name again, which only adds to the pleasure that is coursing through your veins. It takes a long time for you to come down, only really coming back to yourself when you feel soft kisses being peppered across your cheek.

“You okay?” Angela asks, resting her head in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should probably get cleaned up and head to bed.”

When you nod in agreement, Angela carefully pulls out of you before peeling the condom off and tying it closed. She gets up and offers you a hand that you take gratefully, before you both head out of her room and down the hallway to the bathroom. After a quick clean up, she leaves you to use the bathroom. As you pee, you realize that you never heard her door shut, and take that as an invitation to rejoin her. That night, you fall asleep feeling safe and sound in her arms.

—

An alarm blaring yanks you out of your sleep, and you groan, rolling over to bury your face in the pillow. This is the third time this week that you’ve woken up feeling like shit, and it’s only Wednesday. Before you have the chance to wallow in how miserable you feel, there’s a knock on your door and it opens just a crack.

“Hey, time to get up,” Angela says softly. “We have to be at the studio in less than an hour, and I wanna stop for some coffee if that’s cool.”

“Sure,” you say, sitting up slowly to avoid making your nausea worse. “I’ll be ready to go in twenty.”

Angela nods and closes the door, leaving you to start your day. Things between you two have been a little bit different ever since you hooked up. She’s been distant, but honestly, so have you. It’s like neither of you know how to walk back the line that you crossed that night a few weeks ago, and now you’re both just trying to learn how to live in the awkwardness.

Sighing, you climb out of bed and are immediately hit with a wave of nausea. Like the last two mornings, you sprint across the hall to the bathroom, closing the door and turning on the faucet so that Angela doesn’t hear you throwing up. After a minute of just sitting in front of the toilet, you get up and flush before starting to get ready.

You brush your teeth and take a quick shower, then head back to your room to get dressed. Buttoning your jeans takes a little extra effort this morning, but you chalk it up to bloating. Once you’re dressed, you put on some light makeup and grab your bag before heading out to the living room. Angela is waiting for you there, and as soon as she sees you come in, she stands up.

“Ready?”

“Yeah,” you reply, heading to the door.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage brings on another wave of nausea, but you manage to dispel it by the time you climb into Angela’s car. The drive to the nearest coffee shop only takes five minutes, and then you’re heading off to the studio. When you get there, you head inside to find Amanda and Courtney chatting with Arasha in the main office.

“Yeah, I feel so much better,” Courtney says. “That cold was awful. I’m just glad my period was ending when I caught it.”

That statement makes you stop dead in your tracks. Wait a minute. Courtney’s period was ending? No, that couldn’t be right. Could it? If it was, that means yours was late. Like, extremely late. You guys weren’t perfectly synced, but you would have for sure started your period a few days before she did, as happens every month. A sinking feeling hits you in the pit of your stomach as you realize what this could mean.

“Hey, are you okay?” Angela asks from beside you. “You just got really pale.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say. “I-I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

Without waiting for Angela to respond, you practically run down the hall and into the single person bathroom. You shut and lock the door behind you then walk over to the sink, turning the water on cold and splashing your face with it. The coolness does nothing to dispel the rising feeling of dread in your stomach, and you find yourself rushing to the toilet for the second time today.

After taking a minute to regain your composure, you take your spare toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bag and start brushing. All the while, you think about what’s going to happen now. You’re pregnant, you have to be. Your period is is a week and a half late and you’ve been waking up nauseous every morning for the last couple days. There’s no other logical explanation, right?

Knowing that there’s nothing you can do right now, you squash down your panic and resolve to go to the drugstore at lunch. Then you’ll be able to get a test and confirm that you actually are pregnant before you start really freaking out. With a sigh, you spit the toothpaste into the sink and rinse your mouth before putting everything away and walking back out to the office.

“There you are,” Amanda says, smiling as you walk over to the group that has formed. “We saw you come in, but then you disappeared.”

“I just had to use the bathroom,” you say, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “Are you ready for the shoots today?”

“God yes. I’ve been dying to play Gentleman’s Moose Master again.”

“The last one absolutely killed me,” Courtney agrees. “I can’t wait to see what we’ve got this time.”

“Yeah, that’ll be a good video,” you agree.

“What about you?” Amanda asks. “You’re filming a reaction video for Pit, right?”

“I am. God, I hope they don’t do me too dirty. Tommy got Angela good on the last one, I had to deal with her pouting for days after filming.”

“Hey, it was not that bad,” Angela protests with a pout.

“Oh, it was that bad,” Chanse chimes in. “You were grumpy for two days, and that was just what I saw here. I can’t imagine what you were like at home.”

“Mopey,” you say cheekily.

“Whatever,” Angela mutters, though you know she’s not actually feeling put out. “Let’s go, we’ve got to start getting ready.”

With that, the brunette turns around and starts walking in the direction of the art department. Shayne, Courtney, Amanda, and Trevor follow her, leaving you with the a few of your other castmates. You turn around to find Chanse looking at you with an eyebrow raised, but before you can say anything, Erin comes over and starts herding you to the stage you’re going to be shooting on today.

While you’d had a brief reprieve from your thoughts while you had been joking around with the rest of the cast, as soon as you sit down at the table on set, they all come rushing back in. You spend almost the entire shoot pretending to pay attention to the screen in front of you, but in reality, you’re a million miles away. When they call the final cut on the video, you let out a little sigh of relief and stand up, ready to move on to the next thing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chanse asks as you walk back out to the main office. “You seem…off. I don’t really know how to explain it. And Angela has been pouting for weeks. Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing heavily as tears start to prick at the corners of your eyes. “It’s a long story, but I think I really fucked up and now I don’t know what to do.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Can you cover for me at lunch? I need to pick something up, but Angela can’t know about it.”

“Of course,” Chanse says softly. “I know this might be overstepping, but do you want someone to go with you?”

“Maybe,” you say, biting your lip as you think it through. “Yes. But then who’s gonna cover for us?”

“I’ll talk to Amanda, she won’t ask questions if she thinks I’m taking you out to lunch so that I can gush about the guy I hooked up with last weekend.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course. Now come on, we just have to get through an hour long shoot before we can go do whatever you need.”

You nod your head and follow him off the stage and back into the main office, where you find Ian and Anthony setting up for the sketch shoot. Most of it has already been filmed, but the final part got delayed due to some technical difficulties the other day so the final scene had been squeezed into today’s schedule.

This shoot goes a lot better than the last, with you being able to turn on your actor’s brain and set everything else on the back burner. It ends up running a little bit long, but that just means that lunch will be pushed back a bit. Not a complete travesty in the grand scheme of things. When the shoot ends, you walk off towards the kitchen to get Chanse, and you find him talking to Amanda.

“Wait, why are you going out for lunch?”

“Because I need to talk to her about something,” Chanse replies. “I hooked up with a guy this weekend, and I need adv-”

“Nope, stop,” Amanda says, holding her hand up. “I don’t wanna know. I’ll tell Ange that you guys went out.”

“Thank you.”

“Hey,” you say, stepping into the kitchen. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Chanse says, walking towards you. “Let me just grab my keys.”

With a little nod, you turn and head back out towards the bullpen. You stop off at Chanse’s desk to grab his keys, and then you head out to the parking lot. He opens the door of his pick up truck for you and helps you in before going walking around the vehicle and hopping into the driver’s seat. He doesn’t start the engine though, just looks over at you with a soft expression.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

“I-I slept with Angela,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. “A few weeks ago. We were drunk and it just kind of happened, but things have been weird ever since. I think she thinks it was a mistake.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“No, I…I don’t know how to. I mean, how do I tell her that I…”

“Do you have feelings for her?” Chanse asks softly.

“I do. But now everything is weird and complicated, and I-”

“Why are things complicated? You slept together, that wouldn’t have happened if she didn’t feel something too.”

“Because I think…I think I’m pregnant.”

Chanse just sits there for a moment in stunned silence, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. You want him to say something, anything, even if he just calls you a fucking idiot for letting this happen. But you know he would never do that, he’s too kind and compassionate to have that kind of a response. Instead, he just puts the key into the ignition and turns it, then starts backing out of the parking spot.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To the pharmacy,” Chanse answers. “We’ll pick up a test, and you’ll take it. If it’s positive, then we can start to panic.”

“Yeah, right. Okay.”

The drive to the nearest drug store only takes five minutes, and soon you find yourself in the family planning aisle. Chanse stays by your side, offering silent support as you look at the pregnancy tests. Eventually you grab two Clearblues, then you head up to the front of the store and check out. With the tests now in hand, you’re tempted to just take them here, but you know that a CVS bathroom probably isn’t the best place to find out that you’re pregnant.

When you get back to the Smosh studio, Chanse takes you down a side hall that avoids the eating area before opening the door to the women’s bathroom for you. You swallow hard, but he gives you a look of encouragement, so you head inside and go into the first stall. After reading the directions, you pee on the sticks and then flush the toilet before heading out of the stall. You put the tests on a paper towel on the counter and then wash your hands.

After setting a timer on your phone for five minutes, you poke your head out of the bathroom. Chanse looks up at you, and when you nod your head back inside, he pushes himself off the wall and follows you in. For the next few minutes, you sit in silence, waiting for the alarm to go off with a pit of dread in your stomach. When it does, you take a deep breath and walk back to the counter, flipping over the tests.

“Positive,” you choke out, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks. “Both of them.”

“Fuck,” Chanse breathes out, walking over to wrap his arms around you. “It’s gonna be okay. You’ll figure this out.”

“I don’t-I didn’t-”

“I know. I know.”

“Nobody else can find out,” you say, sniffling. “Not before I talk to her.”

“They won’t.”

As if he knows exactly what to do, Chanse grabs a paper towel from the dispenser and wraps one of he tests up before putting it into your backpack. He then wraps the other one up and buries it, making sure that nobody will find it unless they’re looking for it. When he’s done, he turns to you and wraps you in one last hug.

“Everything’s going to be okay, I promise,” Chanse says.

“Thank you,” you whisper back. “Now I just have to figure out how to get through the rest of my day.”

With a sigh, you pull out of his arms and you both head to your next shoot. You spend most of it trying not to throw up, the confirmation of your pregnancy bringing back your nausea in full force. You notice Amanda watching you, a concerned look on her face, but before she can say something, Chanse stops her with a shake of his head and a few hushed words. If he hadn’t promised to keep your secret, you would have been concerned that he had told her.

When you’re finished shooting the short sketch with Chanse and Amanda, it’s time for you to get ready for your last video of the day. At this point, not having had lunch is starting to catch up to you, but there’s no time to find something to eat. You struggle to push away the brain fog that’s come down heavy in the past couple of minutes, and you manage to fight it back far enough that you can at the very least function.

As you walk onto the Reddit Stories set, you see Shayne and Angela talking over by the couch. They both look up when you come in, and he says one last thing to her before nodding in your direction. You watch her take a deep breath as she starts walking over to you, her hands fiddling nervously with the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

“Hey,” Angela says quietly. “You weren’t at lunch.”

“Yeah, I went out with Chanse,” you reply, looking down. “He wanted to talk about some stuff that happened over the weekend.”

“Oh, okay.”

“I’m sure he would’ve asked you to go if he actually needed advice, but he kinda just wanted to gush, so…”

“That’s not-” Angela cuts herself off, biting her bottom lip. “Are we okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just…things have been different since…you know. And I didn’t expect them not to be, but this feels…I don’t know. Like you’re mad at me?”

“Ange, I-”

“Did I make you uncomfortable? Do something you didn’t want?”

“Of course not,” you say immediately, not wanting her to think that she did anything wrong. “I’ve just had a lot to think about, and then today…”

“Today what?”

“I’ve just been feeling off, okay? It has nothing to do with anything that you did. I promise.”

Angela looks unconvinced, but she nods her head before walking over to the couch and taking a seat. You sigh and follow her over, plopping down and grabbing a pillow to wrap your arms around. Courtney does a few final checks with the crew, and they you start rolling. Shayne goes through the intro and introduces the theme, which happens to be ‘Am I The Asshole’ stories centered around roommates.

Listening to the stories is hard at first, but after two you manage to zone in and start actually giving your opinions on them. Engaging in the conversation seems to make the time go faster, and pretty soon, the episode is wrapping up. As Shayne does the typical sign off, you watch Chanse slip in through the stage door behind the cameras. He doesn’t seem to be here for you though, walking over to Erin and asking her a question.

When Courtney announces the final cut, you sigh in relief. As you go to stand up, your vision goes black and your legs buckle a little bit underneath you. Reaching out to steady yourself on the couch, you sit back down to try to regain your bearings. You hear Angela’s voice come from next to you, but it sounds really far away.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“What’s going on?” Chanse says, walking over from behind the camera.

“Dizzy,” you manage to stutter out, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.

“When was the last time you ate?”

“You literally took her out for lunch,” Angela says, sounding annoyed.

“Last night,” you say quietly. “I was too nauseous to eat this morning.”

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” Chanse says. “I’m going to go grab you something from the kitchen, and Angela is going to take you to Ian’s office so that you can lay down on his couch. Alright?”

You nod, blinking your eyes open to shoot your friend a grateful look. He returns the gesture, then gets up and heads out towards the main office, leaving you alone with Angela. You look up at her slowly, and find that she already has her eyes on you, a concerned expression on her face. Before you have the chance to say anything, though, she helps you to your feet and starts leading you to Ian’s office.

“What’s going on with you?” Angela asks as soon as you’re inside, her jaw clenching.

“It’s nothing,” you say, hoping that denial will buy you a little bit of time.

“Don’t do that. First you lie about lunch, and then I find out that you were nauseous this morning and didn’t tell me. Seriously, Y/N. Tell me what’s going on.”

“This isn’t the right place to have this conversation-”

“The hell it isn’t,” Angela says angrily. “Look, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong-”

“I’m pregnant.”

That stops Angela in her tracks. Her eyes go wide, and then they trail down to your stomach before moving back up to your face. She almost looks like she doesn’t believe you, so you reach into your backpack and pull out the positive test. You unwrap it and hand it to her, but it only seems to make her freeze more.

“Say something,” you beg.

“I-”

Angela stutters and looks from you to the test and back up again, but she never actually says anything. You give her a minute to start to wrap her head around things, but the longer she stays quiet, the more your chest begins to ache. When she looks up at you again, you think that she’s finally about to say something, but she doesn’t. She just stares at you, her jaw clenched.

“Right,” you say, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I, uhm, I think I’m going to stay somewhere else tonight.”

You turn on your heels and walk out of the office, heading towards the kitchen at a brisk pace. Tears are falling freely down your cheeks now, and your vision is blurred enough that you almost smack into someone on your way down the hall. It takes strong hands on your shoulders to get you to focus, and you look up to see Chanse standing in front of you.

“What happened?”

“I told her,” you say quietly. “She, uh, she didn’t…”

Thinking about the way she looked at you is the clincher, and you collapse into Chanse’s arms, sobbing. He wraps his arms tightly around you, allowing you to let it out. By the time you manage to get yourself together, the shoulder of his shirt is drenched and you’re somehow in a closet instead of the hallway that this conversation started in. You have no idea how he moved you to somewhere more private, but you’re glad he did.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” you ask, sounding small.

“Of course. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

For the second time today, you find yourself being led outside and helped into Chanse’s truck. You rest your head against the window as soon as he closes the door, and you watch the greenery that surrounds the studio thin out as you head back into the city. It doesn’t take long to arrive at his building, and soon you’re seated at his kitchen island, watching him cook.

“How are you doing?” Chanse asks, setting a plate of stir fry down in front of you.

“I’ve been better,” you reply honestly. “I mean, I didn’t expect her to be over the moon about this, but she could have at least said something.”

“She didn’t say anything?”

“Nope. Just stood there like a statue and stared at me.”

“Maybe she’s just processing.”

“I hope so. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Hey,” Chanse says softly, walking around the island to take a seat next to you. “You won’t be doing this alone. If she isn’t there, I will be. I know it’s not the same, but…”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling at him softly.

Before Chanse can say anything in response, his phone starts buzzing on the kitchen counter. He gives you an apologetic look before getting up and going to grab it. As he picks it up, he looks at the screen and frowns. He taps something and puts the phone back down, but it immediately starts buzzing again, so he sighs and answers it.

“Amanda, what’s up?”

“Do you want to tell me why Angela just called me in a panic, looking for Y/N?”

“No, not really,” Chanse says, putting the phone on speaker.

“Well, have you seen her?” Amanda asks. “Because I think our girl is going to have a panic attack if she doesn’t find her in the next five minutes.”

“It would serve her right. And she is definitely not my girl right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re mad at her. You’re never mad at her. What did she do?”

“It’s not my story to tell.”

“It’s fine, she’s gonna find out anyways,” you say, sighing.

“Wait, is Y/N with you?”

“She is,” Chanse says.

“So she’s not going home? What the fuck happened?”

“I’m pregnant,” you say quietly. “It’s Angela’s.”

“WHAT?” Amanda practically yells into the phone. “How? When? Does she know? Sorry, dumb question. She wouldn’t be panicking right now if she didn’t. But wait, why are you with Chanse?”

“Your girl froze,” Chanse says. “Y/N told her, and she just stood there.”

“Fucking idiot. I’m going to kill her.”

Before either you or Chanse has the chance to say anything back, there’s a knock on the door. You exchange a look with each other, but ultimately decide that whoever it is can go the fuck away. As you turn your attention back to the phone and Amanda, another series of knocks sound from the door, this time with a voice accompanying them.

“Chanse, I know Y/N is with you,” Angela calls out. “Open the door.”

“Is she at the door?” Amanda asks.

“Yeah,” Chanse says, walking around the island with his phone in his hand. “Look, I have to let you go. I’ll call you later, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer, he hangs up and turns towards you. “What do you want to do? Do you want to see her?”

“Not really, but I should,” you say. “We need to talk about this eventually.”

“That doesn’t mean it has to be tonight.”

“I know, but it should be. Let her in.”

Chanse nods and then heads to the front door. He pauses with his hand on the knob, looking back to give you one last chance to change your mind. When you don’t, he takes a deep breath and opens the door. He’s immediately shoved back, and you watch Angela walk into the apartment, her eyes scanning the room until find you. As she starts to walk over to you, you climb off of the stool you’re sitting on and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Hey,” you say quietly.

“Hey,” Angela says, visibly softening at the sound of your voice. “Can we talk?”

“We probably should.”

“Chanse, do you mind giving us a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Chanse replies, before walking over to you and giving your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”

“Okay.”

With a soft smile to you and a glare to Angela, Chanse heads down the hallway and into his room. As soon as you hear the door click shut, you turn back to the girl standing in front of you. She’s looking at your stomach, a mix of wonder and uncertainty clouding her eyes. When she notices you watching her, she clears her throat and straightens up.

“So you’re really pregnant?” Angela asks quietly.

“Yes,” you reply softly.

“When did you find out?”

“Today. I…I heard Courtney talking about coming off of her period when we came in this morning, and I realized I was late. Chanse took me to the pharmacy during our lunch break, and I took a couple of tests. They came back positive.”

“Okay,” Angela says, taking a deep breath. “Okay. So, uhm, I know you probably have a lot that you want to say to me after what happened at the studio, but can I go first?” You nod your head, and Angela lets out a sigh of relief. “Okay. First, I want to say that I’m so sorry for how I reacted. Never in a million years did I think our conversation was heading in that direction, but that’s no excuse.”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“I don’t forgive me, but I appreciate it. The second thing that I wanted to say is, I’m in. I want to be a part of this, with you. In whatever way you want me. But before you decide on that, you should know that I’ve been helplessly in love with you for the last six months.”

“What?”

“I’m in love with you,” Angela repeats, taking a step closer to you. “I love the way you make everyone around you smile, the way you care so deeply about all of our friends, the way you can make me laugh even when I’m having a bad day. I love your smile, and your laugh, and that little crease on your forehead that is only visible when you’re concentrating really, really hard. And so help me God, I love the way that you taste, the way you moan my name, the way you make me feel like I’m burning up from the inside out.”

“Ange,” you say quietly, tears welling in your eyes for the hundredth time today.

“I love you, Y/N. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. Please, just give me a chance to show you that.”

“Only if you give me the chance to show you right back.”

“Deal.”

Not wanting to spend another second out of Angela’s arms, you close the distance between you and pull her into a passionate kiss. She responds immediately, sinking into the embrace and letting her body melt into yours. It just feels right, and you realize that no matter what happens next, you’ll always have Angela.

#angela giarratana #angela giarratana x reader #smut #intersex #pregnancy

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banjopolishh · 22 hours

Text

Tear you apart

cw: NSFW!!!! LIKE ALL NSFW. was originally called athoth a go!! go!! but this seemed better :-)

———-

Ford had been wanting to talk to his lover about the topic of sex, as they’d been dating for quite some time. He was terrified to bring it up, but he wanted to know how the Tennessean felt about it.

Today was the day Stanford was going to ask; he had candles lit all around the dorm, little flowers decorated the floor, the latest Beatles album, Abbey Road, playing softly in the background.

He purchased it a few days ago after it came out, as a little gift.

All of a sudden; Fiddleford came into the dorm room, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Hey, hun! I’m ba-“ Fiddleford fell silent as he stared at their transformed space, eyes widening.It was like walking into an enchanted forest.

“Stanford! Did you do all this!?” Fidds eyes darted around the room; taking notice of everything Ford had put together. This was all for him? He was stunned.

“Welcome back, darling.” Ford smiled, making his way over to the other man. He grabbed him gently by the waist and planted a kiss on his lips. Showing Fidds how much he loved him, was a top priority for the young scientist.

"What's the occasion, my love?" Fidds beamed, returning the kiss with a sigh of contentment. Their dorm had never looked so beautiful; typically, it reeked of weed and was littered with papers on the floor. But today, it smelled of incense and was beautifully organized.

“Come with me,” Ford spoke softly, grabbing Fidds hand, he led him over to their shared bed, both sitting down on the edge of it. Ford took a deep breath, tightening his grip around Fiddleford’s hand.

“I want to ask you something, okay? If you’re uncomfortable with any of it, let me know. We’ve been going out for some time, and, I’ve been.. thinking about things. I want to have intercourse with you.” Ford sighed, his face redder than a tomato. Was he saying this right?

“You want to have sex with me? Really?” Fiddleford gasped, he had fantasized about it for a lonnnng time, and now, Ford was finally asking.

"I have for a long time," Ford replied, his heart racing. He couldn't predict Fidds' response, but he knew one thing for sure - he loved him and would be happy no matter what."

“Of course, I do. I’ve been wantin’ the same! Just.. haven’t been able to find the words.” They laughed, obviously nervous. Ford let out a huge sigh of relief, he wasn’t the only one who was thinking about intimacy.

“Really?!I was actually afraid you would refuse. But of course, that would have been alright too! Oh no, I feel like such an idiot now.” The brunette with dark hair instinctively covered his face with his hands, feeling mortified by his own words.

“I know what ya mean, sugar! Don’t be embarrassed, I don’t know how to go about this, either. It’ll be my first time.” Fidds put his hand on Ford's shoulder, reassuring him with small gentle rubs.

“I have another question, this one slightly more embarrassing.” Ford mentally prepared himself for this one, expecting Fiddleford to be uncomfortable.

“Go on, hun.”

“Would you be alright with me filming? For learning purposes? I want to be able to keep track of everything that feels good for you.” Wow. Fiddleford was blown away, Stanford cared so much about his pleasure and comfort. Nobody else had ever treated him with such love and kindness.

“That would be swell, my love. I will admit, I’m nervous. Will ya promise to be gentle?” Fidds cupped his dearest’s face, looking deep into his eyes, he trusted Ford more than he even trusted himself.

“I promise to be gentle, Fiddlesticks. Wouldn’t want to break you in two, hm?” Ford smirked, kissing his boyfriend with passion. He had begun moving his hands up Fiddleford’s shirt, playfully caressing his sensitive sides.

“Would you mind if I grabbed the camera, darling? I’d like to get it set up before we get too excited.” Ford smiled and got up off the bed, rushing over to the closet, and grabbing a Sony Camcorder. He set the tripod up next to their bed, aiming it so each part of their bodies could be seen. Stanford turned it on, checking it closely to make sure the quality was good. Once it began filming, he made his way over to the bed once more.

“You’re for certain you’re okay with this, my star?” He climbed onto the mattress and nibbled at Fidds neck.

“You’re the only person I’ll ever be certain with, Stanford. Please don’t ever forget that.” The southerner moaned softly at the feeling of Ford’s teeth grazing against his neck.

Ford groaned at the sight of his lover, he needed him. He was going to take him, right there. He nestled his face into Fidds neck.

“May I remove your clothes, sweetheart?” The scientist whispered into the mechanic's ear, moving his hand slowly down Fidds small frame.

“Yes, please. I’m starting to get.. well,” The men looked down at Fiddleford’s lower half, he was fully erect.

“Jesus Christ, darling. You’re very excited, aren’t you?” Ford teased, hovering over Fidds and beginning to unbutton his shirt. Ford was doing his best to play cool, but internally he was freaking out.

“Always for you, sir,” Fidds flirted back, mustering up a small ounce of courage. Stanford's response only made him bolder as he yanked at Fiddleford's shirt, leaving a trail of purple and red marks on his bare chest.

“Oh, fuck, Stanford..” Fidds reached down to take off his pants but Ford pinned his hand back down onto the bed.

“Don’t,” Stanford breathed, trailing kisses along his lover's body until he reached Fiddleford's throbbing cock. He looked up at Fidds with a smirk as he unzipped his pants, ready to be enveloped in his boyfriend’s scent.

“Wowwww, look how big you’ve gotten for me, sweetheart. You’re so handsome.” Fiddleford hid his face with his hands, embarrassed by Ford’s praise. Stanford pulled down Fidds pants, then his boxers. Fiddleford moaned at the feeling of the cold dorm air blowing against his tip.

“Fuck, Ford, please touch me...oh, please touch me" Fiddleford moaned, thrusting his hips upwards, feeling his partner's hot breath against his skin. Fiddleford's constant moaning was driving Stanford insane. With a firm grip, Ford slowly moved his hand up and down the disheveled man's shaft, maintaining a steady pace.

“How’s this, baby? Look at the camera, show it how good I make you feel.” Stanford chuckled, watching as Fidds reluctantly turned his head, his eyes making contact with the machine. The idea of Ford watching the recording of their intimacy sent a shiver down his back.

“You’re so beautiful, Fiddleford. I cant wait to ruin you.” Suddenly, Ford took Fidds’ cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip.

“OH! Shhhhhiiit.. Oh, lord.” Fiddleford began bucking his hips into the six fingered man’s mouth, waves of pleasure hitting him. Ford watched as his lover’s eyes began to roll back. He laughed as his darling man, turned into a brainless doll before his eyes.

“Doing so good for me, Fidds. God..your dick is so cute. I’m shocked nobody’s tried to claim you in the past.” All Fiddleford could do is thrust into Ford’s hands. He couldn’t form a single word.

“Fuck, Fidds, I can’t take it anymore.” Stanford moved his hand away from Fiddleford’s cock, earning a whine of disapproval from him.

“Wha-What’re ya doin’?” Fiddleford watched with lustful eyes as Ford removed his own clothes. Ford, seemingly experienced, had NEVER had sex before. He was simply winging it.

“I’m sorry, Fidds. I just, I really need you.” Stanford crawled onto the desperate man’s body, grabbing Fidds’ face, forcing him to look into his eyes. Fiddleford shivered before Stanford pulled him roughly into a kiss.

“Ah.." The kiss soon became messy, their tongues finding their way into the others mouth. Soft grunts and moans filling the room.

Fiddleford's hands roamed over Stanford's broad shoulders and down his muscular back, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin. Their kisses grew more passionate and urgent as Stanford ground his hips against Fiddleford's, their erections rubbing together.

"Oh Lord, Stanford," Fiddleford gasped, breaking away from the kiss. "I need you so bad, darlin'. Please..."

Stanford nodded, his eyes half lidded with desire. "I've got you, sweetheart. Just relax for me."

He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a small bottle of lube, coating his fingers generously. With gentle touches, he began to open Fiddleford up, watching his lover's face carefully for any signs of discomfort.

Fiddleford tensed at first at the unfamiliar sensation, but soon he was grinding gently against Ford’s fingers with pleasure. He had never felt something so strange - and so good - in his life.

“Look at how good you’re doing.” Stanford murmured softly. “So, So good..”

Ford carefully added another finger scissoring them gently, stretching Fidds further. The southerner softly moaned, his hands gripping the sheets.

“Ford, please,” Fiddleford whimpered, his accent becoming thicker with arousal. “Please, fuck me.”

Ford’s breath hitched at the desperation in his companions voice. He took his fingers out slowly, causing Fidds to whine at the loss. Stanford gave him a peck on the lips before grabbing some lube from the nightstand, slicking himself up.

“Are you sure, honey? You can always tell me if-”

Fiddleford quickly interrupted; “Stanford, I’m beggin’ ya, PLEASE fuck m-”

Slowly, carefully, Ford began to push in. His eyes darted all over Fidds’face, looking for any sign of discomfort. But Fiddleford just moaned, eyes fluttering shut as Ford filled him.

"Oh, darlin'..." Fiddleford gasped, his fingers digging into Ford's shoulders. The feeling of Ford inside him was overwhelming, a deep stretch that made his toes curl.

Ford groaned, the tightness around his dick was almost too much to bear. He stopped, giving Fiddleford time to adjust to his length. "You okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, pressing soft kisses to Fidds' face.

Fiddleford nodded, his breathing heavy. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Please move, Stanford. I need you."

With a low growl, Ford began to thrust, slowly at first. He watched Fiddleford's face intently, drinking in every gasp and moan. The southerner's eyes were half-lidded, mouth hanging open in pleasure.

"You're so beautiful like this," Ford murmured, picking up the pace, groaning as he felt Fidds’ walls tighten around him. Jacking off never felt as good as his lovers’ insides.

Stanford's thrusts became more forceful, going deeper into Fiddleford with each motion. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, followed by their shared moans and gasps.

"Oh god, Ford!" Fiddleford cried out, his back arching off the bed. "Right there, please don't stop!"

Ford angled his hips, hitting that spot inside Fiddleford over and over. He could feel himself getting close, the tight heat of Fidds' body overwhelming his senses.

"Fidds, I'm not gonna last much longer," Ford panted, his rhythm becoming erratic. He reached between their bodies to stroke Fiddleford's neglected cock.

The dual stimulation was too much for Fiddleford. With a strangled cry, he came, spilling over Ford's hand and onto his tummy."OH! Ohmystarsohmystarsohmy-” The sight of Fiddleford’s release caused Stanford to reach his own climax.

“Fidds! I’m coming, i’m coming inside..FUCK!” Ford wrapped Fidds’ legs around himself, making sure his seed reached deep.

Fidds’ legs shook as Ford came inside, he felt every single drop reach his center. He felt full.

Deep breaths replaced the moans; Ford pulled out slowly, watching closely as the cum slowly poured out of Fiddleford’s hole.

“W-Wow..That was..Wow.” He sighed, not even the most beautiful meteor shower could top this.

Ford cupped Fidds’ face, looking at his pink dusted cheeks. He looked so cute, so soft and tired.

“How’re you doing, sweetie? Feeling okay? Youre not in any pain are you?” A small bit of worry plagued his mind briefly, until Fiddleford silently wrapped himself around Ford.

“That was so amazing, that was so fuckin’ amazing..God, I’m so exhausted now..thank you for being gentle with me, hun.. you made me feel safe.” Fidds curled up on Stanford’s chest, reveling in the afterglow of intimacy.

“You did so good, honey! I’m very impressed with you. You felt absolutely incredible around me, I couldn’t help but give you my cum.” Ford smiled and planted a kiss onto his head.

“You.. are ya sure that was your first time? I felt like you were way more experienced than I am..” Fidds inquired looking at his boyfriend intently.

“I have never. I did.. quite a bit of research though. I’ve been looking at different techniques for gay couples, there’s.. a lot I had to learn.. but, it was worth it for you.”

“You made my first time so special, honey.. Did you have fun, too?” Stanford nodded and ran his hands through Fiddleford’s hair.

“I had so much fun watching you squirm beneath me, you were a sight to behold.” Fiddleford chuckled and pulled the blankets up over them, covering their naked bodies.

“I love you, Stanford.”

“I love you, Fidds.”

…..

“Is the camera still on?”

“Oh, shit!”

————

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHB BLOWS UP

this took me for fucking ever oh my fod oh mygod

enjoy you FREAKS!!!

#fiddauthor #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford pines #gravity falls #banjoportal #ford pines #fiddleford x stanford #ford x fiddleford #fiddlesix #ford2 #long fic #smut #I love it #SoundCloud

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sugurugetofavoritemonkey · 1 day

Text

Fons vitae caritas - Love is the fountain of life

Summary : What if Ethan Landry survived the theater attack at the shrine ? You didn’t know he was one of the Ghostfaces and when you found him all bloody and whimpering on the floor, of course you helped him. Or in other words, you tend to the wounds of Ethan Landry, a killer but also the boy you always loved… and maybe it wasn’t an unrequited love after all. In all honesty, Ethan was enamored with you and never wanted you to be involved in all of this…

Pairing : Ethan Landry x Gn! Reader.

Word Count : 3.900 words.

Warnings : Hurt/Comfort, fluff, mention of blood, wounds and stitches.

Author’s Note : This was entirely written based on this lovely anon’s request. Tell me if I’ve missed anything and please don’t hesitate to give me feedback, it’s always greatly appreciated to know if I did good ! I also had a blast with this request (and writing for my lovely Ethan) so if you have requests for him, I’ll be excited to hear about your ideas.

You had been separated from the group at the subway station. There were way too many people at this time in the subway and you had been stuck in the middle of people walking in and out of the subway. However, what disconcerted you was the fact that Ethan, your dearest « friend », if you could really call him that with how much the two of you were close, let go of your hand in the middle of running to the subway. Maybe it was just a coincidence, you thought, without really believing it. Ethan always held your hand when you were outside, always, and he never let go of you, especially when there were that many people around, and with a killer on the loose on top of that. Ethan knew that you could get a bit scared outdoors when he wasn’t there to hold your hand and reassure you that everything was okay. He always looked back to see exactly where you were to look after you, but strangely… this time, when Ethan let go of your hand, he didn’t even make an attempt to walk back to get you, as he continued walking straight ahead like nothing happened… and it definitely wasn’t like him to do something like that.

Everyone was ahead of you as you made your best to catch up on them after you had finally reached your stop. Luckily you knew the city by heart and it was easy for you to quickly arrive at the theater, where everyone had planned to trap the Ghostface killer inside his own shrine. Unfortunately, because you got to the theater way after the others, it was hard for you to find them as you walked inside the giant building. At some time, you heard screams of pain, you believed it was Chad as you started to walk faster in order to help him but when you thought you had finally reached him, you got further separated from your friends as not one but two Ghostfaces cornered you in a small room during the attack.

The hooded killers laughed as they closed the door behind them before removing their masks. You gasped in shock as you realized with widened eyes that the Ghostfaces were Detective Wayne Bailey and his - actually alive - daughter, Quinn. You tried to run past them but that was just futile as they laughed even louder at you, mocking you as Wayne didn’t even bother to make useless moves, barely lifting his arm up to shoot you in the right shoulder as he ordered his daughter to finish you off. Quinn stabbed you in the stomach as you groaned in pain and coughed a bit of blood when she harshly removed the knife from you, making you almost instantly fall to the ground in a silent cry, your vision slowly becoming dark and blurry as they both thought they had you dead and closed the door behind them like nothing happened.

Honestly, you should have been dead with all the blood that you lost but it seemed that fate had been by your side this time. When you woke up from your loss of consciousness, you got up with excruciating pain in your right side and shoulder. When you clenched your hand over your wounds, you could feel the blood staining your clothes and decided to tear a part of your long skirt to make rudimentary bandages that you wrapped around your shoulder and waist in hope that it will stop the bleeding at least until you get home. When you started walking to find the exit where you came from, it almost seemed that everything was over with how silent the theater had become. Moving your body was making your head dizzy as you winced in pain but you kept walking while avoiding the debris that were now obstructing some part of the silent shrine. Among them, two bodies particularly caught your attention… Quinn and her father were laying on the ground with fresh blood surrounding them… they had what they deserved, you thought without remorse as you quickly averted your gaze from them. After a few minutes, you finally found the exit that wasn’t too far away from you, making a smile appear on your face with the promise of safety that you could almost grasp.

But when you were about to finally escape, you heard silent whimpers of pain coming from a corner. As you got closer, you could see Ethan laying on the ground on his stomach, almost covered in blood as a TV was crushing his right side : the edge of his face and a whole part of his shoulder. You gasped in shock and ran over to him, quickly removing the TV from him by pushing on it with your foot, gathering all the strength you could gather to rescue him. His safety being the only thing on your mind right now.

Once you could finally see Ethan better, the state he was in was more than alarming : the right side of his face was all bruised, both of his shoulders seemed to have bigger opened wounds as blood was gushing out and he had small cuts all around his mouth as Ethan coughed up blood, making you panic even more as you carefully lifted Ethan in your arms, making his head rest on your lap as you gently caressed his hair. Your eyes watered when you had to imagine the pain he was in at the moment as your heart started to pound violently against your chest, anxiety controlling you as it was almost impossible for you to breathe.

You always had a soft spot for Ethan… or even more than that if you were honest with yourself and it broke your heart to see your poor Ethan that way. You tried ever so gently to caress the left side of his face in a way to reassure Ethan with your presence, miraculously making him stir awake little by little. Ethan only succeeded in fluttering his eyes open as his breath was ragged. When his eyes spotted your face looking down at him as tears rolled down your cheeks just to fall on his eyelashes, Ethan almost thought he was in heaven. He immediately wanted to talk to you but because he was stabbed in the mouth, Ethan struggled to talk and articulate his words at first but after a moment he managed to whisper your name in a silent weep. It was hard for him to even look at you, let alone breathe properly as his eyes watered at the sight of you all bloody in front of him. But what made his heart really flutter was the way you were looking at him, with such gentle eyes as you were holding his broken body in your arms.

Ethan didn’t want all of this to happen that way as his eyes briefly noticed that you were wounded somewhere, anger and frustration submerging him as he realized that his plan didn’t work the way he expected.

Ethan had made sure you would not come here today. You couldn't be hurt in any way, he had repeated in his head a hundred times after his father had explained his plan to him a few days ago… the slaughter that will happen.

You had to stay stuck in the subway, Ethan had planned on his own… and that’s exactly what he did earlier as he had let go of your hand on purpose, exactly when a lot of people gathered around, to be sure that you had no chance to go with them, even though it broke his heart to imagine how anxious this situation would be for you. But Ethan had to make sure you were the only one safe, far away from all this violence. Yet, fate had played with him and you apparently were still able to get here anyway…

When you noticed the way Ethan’s eyes started to get foggy with tears, you were half happy to see that his body and mind were reacting, meaning that he had a chance to live. However, you also tried your best to contain your sobs at his distress… even though you actually didn’t know the real reason behind it… Ethan couldn’t care less about his own injuries, his mind was plagued with one thing only… you.

Ethan needed to get his hands on his father and sister to make them pay for what they did to you. They didn’t have the right to touch you, let alone harm you in any shape or form whatsoever, he had been very clear with them, but he also painfully knew that he could never make any decisions in his father’s plan.

When Ethan bit his bottom lip with a frown on his face, your hand drew more soothing circles on his unharmed cheek as you spoke to him with such a soft and gentle voice, smiling to Ethan to reassure him, though your voice betrayed your emotions.

« It’s a-alright Ethan… the Ghostfaces are all dead… all of them… you’re s-safe now… I promise, no one will ever h-hurt you again… I’m here, w-with y-you… »

When you remembered that Detective Bailey was Ghostface, you didn’t want to stay here any longer in case he had accomplices in the police when they would get here. Who knows ? Maybe they will finish the job he couldn’t and kill the both of you… you and Ethan are currently easy targets, you realize as your heart quickened in fear.

Hurriedly, you helped Ethan on his feet with difficulties as your own shoulder was starting to bleed again with the force you were applying on it. You maneuvered his left arm around your shoulder to support his weight. Ethan whimpered in pain as you helped him walk, due to the pressure applied on his stabbing wounds, even though he tried his hardest to stay strong for you. You blurt out excuses with an anxious voice as you quicken your pace to go back to your place.

« We c-can’t stay here Ethan… I’m sorry but we’ll have to be quick. I’ll take care of you when we're safe. »

Some tears escaped Ethan’s eyes in silence with all the emotions he was going through. He couldn’t care less that his father died. After all, the man never cared for him nor even loved him as a son. He was just a tool for him. Nevertheless, Ethan could not deny the thrill he always felt when he acted as Ghostface, it was more than true and he accepted it without feeling even an ounce of remorse at those he had killed… but not you. Ethan couldn’t even envision hurting you… never.

Ethan had tried at the last moment to avert the attention of his father and sister from you, almost begging them to kill someone else in your place… that you were the only one innocent in his eyes, but it didn’t work. Just like his plan to save you from any harm. And now you were the one helping him… a killer… He was right all along, Ethan thought with a smile, as the two of you were almost home… you were definitely an angel.

When you were finally both safe, you let out a sigh of relief as you made Ethan sit down on the floor of your room with his head resting against the edge of your bed to keep his back straight. You ran over to your bathroom where you had everything you needed to take care of Ethan : disinfectant, needle, thread, bandages…etc. Luckily, you had some notions in medicine and had the right equipment for today’s case. When you come back into your room, you notice how Ethan struggles to keep his eyes open, his mind dizzy from the blood loss as he rests his head on the side of your bed. You hurriedly sit on his lap without fully putting your weight on his legs and set down all your medical tools on the bed beside you. You worriedly look at Ethan’s face as you gently yet firmly hold his cheeks in your palms, rubbing both of your thumbs on his cheekbones as you call his name to make him regain consciousness.

« Hey, Hey, Ethan, look at me… Stay with me please… I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry. »

When Ethan’s eyes flutter open to look at you, a sigh of relief comes out of your mouth, smiling at him as your fingers now move in a softer way over his cheekbones, soothing his senses with your loving gestures. After a small tender moment between the two of you where Ethan looked up at you with puppy eyes while your hands were holding his face with so much love, one of his hand coming to cover your right one as Ethan leaned into your touch, you reluctantly removed your hand from him in order to begin taking care of him. When Ethan took note of that, his hand immediately stopped yours by softly grabbing your wrist as his gaze locked with yours.

« No way you’re taking care of me first. », Ethan stated with difficulty.

Ethan almost fought against the fact that you would heal him before yourself, your wounds were also gushing too much blood for his liking, as he explained to you with a worried gaze, yet you refused to let Ethan wait for your care. He would be the first one to be treated and that was your final word, you affirmed to him with a kiss on his forehead.

Perhaps giving Ethan a kiss worked as a magic trick on him because it effectively hushed him, making Ethan’s cheeks turn slightly red at the gesture as he looked the other way and lightly bit the inside of his cheek nervously.

Still straddling Ethan’s lap, you started taking care of him by firstly removing the black robe that Ethan was wearing, it was easy enough with how loose it had gotten. When you put the black material aside, letting your eyes linger on it for a bit, all the thoughts that you kept buried since you discovered Ethan at the theater came rushing back to you. You had to ignore these thoughts once again as you didn’t have time to think about such things nor didn’t you want to. Yes he was wearing this very particular costume but… Ethan couldn’t be… No he’s not, you convinced yourself even when you perfectly knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. But still, you trusted Ethan more than anyone else and knew that he would never hurt you, ever. And that’s all that mattered to you right now, when taking care of his wounds was the only thing your whole mind was focused on, him and only him.

Afterwards, your hands came back on him as you held the hem of his shirt between your fingers, looking back at Ethan to silently ask for permission to also remove his shirt in order to give you better access to his wounds. Ethan shyly nodded before you slowly removed his shirt, being careful not to be too rough with your movements as to prevent aggravating his injuries.

Your cold hands started to search for any patch of skin that seemed wounded and needed care as you let your fingers gently slide along his body, making Ethan slightly tremble under your touch as he felt way too exposed in front of you. After checking his body, your gaze saddened when you realized that Ethan had way more injuries than you would have thought, it was even surprising that he was still alive at this point or that he wasn’t complaining about the excruciating pain that he was without a doubt experiencing right now.

Ethan must have been hit on the back of the head as a bit of blood was making his hair stick there, you also noticed that he was stabbed in the mouth and that’s why it was hard for him to talk even though he managed, as small cuts could also be seen around his mouth. But the worst injuries were on his shoulders. Ethan was stabbed in the front left shoulder 5 times as blood was still gushing a bit out of the open wounds, while the TV that you saw earlier had crushed a part of his right shoulder and side of his face, where you could see lots of bruises and cuts covering his poor skin.

You sigh shakily when you feel the stress you’re putting on yourself at the amount of stitches you’re gonna have to do on Ethan, surely more stitches than you ever did in your entire life combined. When Ethan noticed the way your hands started shaking a bit, he instinctively intertwined his fingers with yours, knowing full well how it always appeased your mind. And he’s right, Ethan always is when it’s about you, as your racing mind slows down at the feeling of Ethan’s hand, helping you decide to only treat his most urgent wounds first as you make priorities in your mind.

You’ll disinfect all his wounds but clean even more the cuts around his mouth to prevent any infections, do stitches on all of his open wounds of his left and right shoulder but also on the deeper cuts Ethan got on the right side of his face that worries you a little, and cover his shoulders with bandages to help them heal faster.

Ethan tried his best to be strong while you took care of him, he wanted to act tough in front of you, to make you feel proud of him that he wasn’t complaining, but he still couldn’t control everything as the little grunts and whimpers of pain Ethan let out were breaking your heart in little pieces. His jaw was tightly clenched as his eyes were filled with tears of pain that rolled over his face from time to time.

You were the only thing that was helping him get through this as Ethan noticed how gentle you were with him, while he tried his best to keep his eyes open in order to engrave all the little details in his memory. Like your face that was focusing on your task, a frown appearing on it when you were putting all your attention on a particular stitch. Or the way your hands controlled themselves from trembling even though it was hard for you at this moment, Ethan noticed with dreamy eyes. He also remarked the way your chest was heaving up and down at a fast pace, as Ethan’s hands were grabbing your thighs during the entire time. His fingers ever so gently danced across your skin as his thumbs occasionally rubbed over your thighs with soothing circles absentmindedly. His hands never left you as your position on his lap was making it easy for him to access your thighs, the comforting and loving caresses soothing you and Ethan at the same time.

When it was your turn to take care of your own wounds in front of Ethan, still in the same comfortable position, he was now the one to bring you the reassurance and love you desperately craved, in order to make this painful moment go by as quickly as he could. Ethan held your hand when he could and when it wasn’t possible with your movements, he gently let his hand rest on the unharmed side of your waist, drawing reassuring and affectionate caresses on your skin as Ethan looked at you with saddened but soft eyes, reminding you that he was here for you even though he couldn’t do much at the moment.

After you were both patched up, your hands naturally returned to cup Ethan’s face lovingly, caressing the bruised and stitched side of his skin softly as you covered his entire face in kisses. Ethan automatically did the exact same thing to you as his bigger hands went to cup your jaw protectively, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks tenderly as he made you bend down a little to press kisses on your nose, forehead, cheeks and corner of your mouth. You were both bringing the other one the reassuring presence you needed from each other and the love that you both should have fully shared much earlier if you two weren’t the most bashful people on earth.

Now fully sitting on Ethan’s lap as exhaustion took over you, Ethan caressed in a feather light touch your now stitched up wounds, a touch that you almost could not feel with how gentle and careful he was. Ethan looked at your injuries with anger, sadness and frustration that he wasn’t there to protect you and prevent them from happening.

Ethan quietly sobbed at that as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, careful not to touch your stitches as he hoarsely muttered excuses with a muffled and trembling voice, « I’m s-sorry… so s-sorry, baby… »

You didn’t understand why he would say that… well not completely. He didn’t have anything to do with your wounds and he would never hurt you in any shape or form. Seeing your sweet Ethan sob in your arms was shattering your soul as you just wanted to hold him closer to your heart, softly enough as to not aggravate his injuries.

You both hugged each other during a moment that felt out of time, Ethan firmly clinging to your body, as you calmly caressed his hair while massaging his scalp soothingly. Ethan’s figure being much larger than you, it was like you were hiding in a cocoon where nothing could harm you anymore, as you felt at peace in his protective arms.

Ethan broke the hug at one point to look at you and got closer to your face as he pressed a chaste kiss on your lips that you mirrored almost instantly. Ethan giggled between kisses as you were both eagerly pressing as many kisses as possible to the other’s mouth.

With your mouth still lingering on his, you reassured him with a beautiful smile that Ethan cherished, as he peacefully listened to the words that you whispered against his lips.

« Together, everything will be okay… I know I’ll be safe with you Ethan. And… you’ll always have me, b-because… I care for you more than you could ever imagine. »

Ethan’s gaze widened with affection at your honest declaration as his eyes looked down at your lips, pressing his mouth to yours as he deepened the kiss by cupping your cheeks, not wanting to let you go too far from him. After breaking the kiss, Ethan bashfully intertwined his fingers with yours as he looked down to observe with attention the way he was fidgeting with your hand.

« Can I say that I love you ? », he asked while looking back into your eyes. Ethan felt awkward while saying that, it was the first time for him after all. Though, the pretty boy quickly changed his mind when he felt your lips whisper close to his ear how much you loved him back, making Ethan smile in the most adorable way possible.

💗 Ethan Landry Masterlist 💗

#ethan landry x reader #scream x reader #jack champion #ethan landry #ghostface x reader #ghostface #my own stardust #ethan kirsch x reader #scream 6

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lulublack90 · 2 days

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Prompt 22 - Rule

@rosekillermicrofic September 22, word count 739

Previous part First Jegulus part

The day came for their little heist. Barty fired up his crumbling van and collected Sirius from his flat before making the short journey to Grimmauld Place. The dark house loomed above them. Barty had no idea how it looked so much less inviting than the identical houses beside it, but it did, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

He looked over at Sirius, who was frozen in his seat, staring at the building. Barty put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve got your back, mate. Burger Face and Lord Twat are on their way to Wiltshire for the Malfoy ball, which, as we both know, is a total fabrication and will give us the time we need to steal all those damn books Regulus is so fond of. Now, come on, I refuse to carry them all out while you have whatever crisis this is,” Barty huffed at him, but it had the effect he wanted, and Sirius got out of the van.

Together they walked up the narrow steps to the front door, and with a bit of jiggery and the right tool, they were in. As a rule, Barty didn’t usually use his skills for actually breaking and entering, but this was a special case, and Regulus had left his keys behind when he’d fled, the ones with his and Evans's flat keys on them. This was something he needed to rectify. He spotted them on the hook just inside the door and deftly pocketed them on his way past.

Regulus had slept in the same room since birth and they both knew where it was. Sirius opened the door and whistled.

“There are a few more books than the last time I saw his collection,” He said, his mouth gaping. Barty snorted. Regulus’s collection had been steadily growing over the years. He had nothing else to spend his money on or any other joys in his life.

“Well, let's get stuck in,” Barty grinned, pulling the first lot of books off the shelf and stacking them on the moving trolly they’d brought with him. It took hours to move all the books. But finally, the job was done. They brought in empty cardboard boxes and emptied Regulus’s drawers into them. Soon, the room was completely cleared. They did a final scan before Sirius checked his watch.

“We’ve still got a bit of time, do you fancy a bit of mischief?” His grin split his face in a way that reminded him of Regulus when he had a dastardly plan.

“Always,” He answered, intrigued. Sirius and his friends had been known as the school tricksters, and he wondered what the elder Black Brother had come up with. Sirius’s hands suddenly held two glass jars of sliced pickle pieces and Barty’s face lit up. “Oh you beautiful bastard,” He cackled as he took a jar.

“I’ll take the top floor, you take the bottom, and we’ll meet in the middle. Okay, ready set go!” And Sirius was racing off to the level above. Barty, fully onboard, ran down the stairs and straight into Walburga’s sitting room.

He hid pickle slices everywhere. In drawers, under cushions. He even put a few inside the sofa cushions. The kitchen was fun. One went into the sugar bowl, another in the odds 'n' ends draw. He stuck one to the fridge like a magnet. By the time he got up to the middle floor, he was running low.

“Here,” Sirius said when he spotted the near-empty jar. Barty held it up and Sirius poured more of the slices into it. “I had a second jar,” He explained when Barty gave him a look. He didn’t really think that the man had gone easy on his mother's bedroom, but you never knew.

They planted the last few pickles and then made their retreat. Barty carefully re-locked the door with his pilfered keys, and then the van was rumbling down the road and on its way to the café. Sirius let out a laugh, and Barty followed. Soon the van was full of gasping laughter.

He pulled the van up beside the side door of the café where Evan and Remus were waiting for them. James had very kindly got Regulus out of the way for the day so they could surprise him.

Now the real work began, trying to find space in that poky flat for all Regulus’s books.

Next part

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soulofapatrick · 2 days

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Between Battles and Breaths - Bodhi Durran x female reader

Summary: You can’t sleep, terrified of your enemy you’re facing tomorrow in the challenges and you find yourself seeking comfort in Bodhi

Warnings: None

Words: 2.6k

Y/N's POV

I can't sleep. The thought of who I’m up against in tomorrow's challenges has kept my mind racing for hours, churning over every possible scenario. My nerves are a live wire, and the gnawing certainty that this is one I’m not going to win gnashes at me. The others are better, faster, more experienced—and me? I’m just trying to make it through each day without making a fool of myself.

My feet drag across the floor as I pace, the creak of the wooden boards below me a repetitive comfort in the stillness of the night. I know I’ve practically worn a path into the carpet by now, walking the same few steps over and over, but it’s better than lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, waiting for the panic to consume me. With a huff, I finally stop and run a hand through my hair, frustrated.

I can’t do this. Not like this.

Before I can think twice, I grab my flight leathers, pulling them on with shaking hands. It’s reckless, stupid even, to sneak out so close to curfew, but if I stay in this room for one more second, I’ll go mad. The air feels thick, suffocating, and I need to breathe.

The dormitory halls are quiet as I slip out of my room on the first year’s floor, the faint hum of the academy settling for the night, a reminder that I should be too. But instead of heading outside like I’d planned, something draws me upwards, my feet carrying me to the second-year floor before I’ve even realised what I’m doing.

I hesitate at the top of the stairs, wondering what exactly led me here. I’m not even sure how or why I ended up in front of his door—Bodhi Durran’s door. But I stop there, my hand hovering over the handle. The smart thing would be to turn back. He’s the last person I should be bothering right now, with my nerves as raw as they are, but there’s a pull in my chest that won’t let me leave.

Through the narrow gap in the door, I catch a glimpse of him.

Bodhi lies there, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. The dim light from the window barely touches his face, but it’s enough to see the peaceful, almost boyish look that settles over him in sleep. His sharp features, usually so intense, are softened in this moment of calm. Tousled dark hair falls across his forehead, and there’s something about the way his brow is relaxed, the usual storminess in his expression completely at ease, that makes him look younger than usual, more vulnerable.

I should go, I think, taking a step back, but the thought sticks in my throat when he stirs. The slight rustle of the sheets is enough to send my heart skittering, and before I can react, Bodhi’s eyes flutter open, dark and still heavy with sleep.

He squints at me through the dim light, confusion crossing his face as his gaze lands on me standing hesitantly in the doorway. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to say anything at all, and I wonder if I should just leave before he fully wakes up.

But then his voice, rough and gravelly from sleep, cuts through the silence. “What are you doing here?” His tone is low, hoarse, and it sends a shiver down my spine. It’s not accusatory or irritated, just… curious, like he can’t quite believe I’m standing there.

And in this moment, neither can I.

His dark eyes take in my appearance, sweeping over me with a sharpness that leaves me feeling exposed, bare. A crease forms between his brows as he pushes the blankets aside and sits up, the confusion shifting into something else, something that makes my heart beat even faster. Without a word, Bodhi swings his legs over the edge of the bed, the sheets rustling as they fall away, revealing his body—lean and muscular, his chest broad and defined. He’s only wearing boxers, and it takes everything in me not to let my eyes linger on the way his muscles shift under his skin with each step as he moves toward me.

I feel breathless, like the air has been sucked out of the room, replaced with a thick tension that presses against my chest. My throat tightens with nerves, and I force myself to breathe, but it’s hard to focus when he’s so close, when the sight of him leaves my thoughts scattered, my body anxious in all the right ways.

Bodhi stops in front of me, his presence overwhelming, his gaze dark and steady. For a moment, neither of us says anything, and the silence between us feels charged, like the crackle of a storm about to break. Then, slowly, his hand reaches for mine.

The moment his fingers wrap around mine, it feels like I’ve been set on fire. His hand is large and calloused, rough from training and fighting, yet somehow warm and steady. My pulse quickens at the simple touch, the anxiety in my chest twisting into something deeper, more intense. His thumb grazes the back of my hand, sending a shiver racing up my spine, and I bite my lip to keep from gasping aloud.

“Come on,” he murmurs, voice still thick from sleep, tugging me gently into his room. The door closes softly behind me, the click of the latch echoing in the quiet space. His room is dimly lit, the moonlight slipping through the curtains casting long shadows across the floor. It’s sparse, with only a few personal touches—a pile of worn books on the bedside table, his boots kicked off haphazardly near the window—but it feels so undeniably him. Practical. Focused. Just like Bodhi.

He leads me toward his bed, his hand still holding mine, and the closer I get, the more overwhelmed I feel. The air between us is thick with unspoken words, a tension that leaves my thoughts spinning. I’ve always had a crush on Bodhi—who wouldn’t? But I never thought he’d look at me like this, with an intensity that makes my knees weak, that leaves me wanting something I can’t quite put into words.

“Sit,” he says softly, guiding me to the edge of the bed. My legs feel shaky as I lower myself onto the mattress, and Bodhi moves to his knees in front of me. The sight of him kneeling there, his face inches from mine, sends a sharp ache of longing through my chest. It’s a position that feels intimate, almost too intimate, and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, to run my fingers through his dark, tousled hair and pull him closer.

I’m still trying to process what’s happening, still trying to catch my breath, when Bodhi’s hands reach for my boots. He works in silence, deft fingers unlacing the leather with a skill that speaks of years spent in flight leathers himself. When he finally pulls the boots off and sets them aside, his hands return to me, grazing the skintight leathers of my pants legs as he slides his palms slowly, deliberately, up toward my hips.

The touch sends a rush of heat through me, my pulse quickening as his fingers trail higher, a soft, feather-light touch that makes my breath hitch. His hands find their way around my back, moving with purpose but not rushing, until his fingers find the lacings of the dragon armour my brother made for me before I walked the parapet.

He undoes them with practiced ease, and I feel the tension in my chest loosen as the bindings fall away. The weight of the armour lifts, but it’s nothing compared to the weight in my heart, the yearning that’s only grown stronger the closer Bodhi gets.

I’ve wanted him for so long, and now, with him this close, his touch so careful and his gaze so intent, I can’t help but wonder if he’s wanted me too.

Bodhi stands and lifts the now-loosened corset armour from my shoulders, handling it with surprising care before placing it neatly on the chair by his desk. The room feels heavier in the quiet after the sound of the armour settling, my heart beating wildly in the stillness. When he turns back to me, his eyes drop to my waist, his fingers hovering just above my hips. His gaze flickers up to meet mine, and for a moment, everything stills.

He hesitates, his touch light, asking for permission without words.

I nod slightly, barely noticeable, but Bodhi catches it, and as soon as he does, my hips rise instinctively. His fingers deftly find the buttons of my flight leathers, working through each one with an unhurried precision that makes my pulse race. The heat of his touch burns through the leather, and when he finally shimmies the pants down my legs and to the floor, the sensation is almost overwhelming—his hands, warm and firm, feel like fire in my veins.

Once I’m free of the leathers, Bodhi moves away from me, crossing the room toward the washroom. I watch him through half-lidded eyes as he disappears for a moment, only to return with a worn shirt in hand. He approaches me with a soft look in his eyes, holding it out like a peace offering.

The shirt smells like him. There’s a faint woodsy scent, warm and earthy, like pine and leather, mixed with the sharper tang of the wind that always seems to cling to him after a day in the sky. Beneath it all, there’s something uniquely Bodhi, something comforting, steady, that grounds me even as my mind whirls with everything happening between us.

He turns his back to give me some privacy, and I waste no time. My shirt and bra come off quickly, discarded without thought, and I pull his shirt over my head. It’s too big, falling to mid-thigh and swallowing me in its softness, the fabric still warm from his skin. I take a breath, letting the scent of him wrap around me like a second skin, comforting in a way I didn’t expect.

By the time I’m done, Bodhi is already shuffling around me, his movements slow and sleepy, but purposeful. He climbs back under the covers and without hesitation, wraps a strong arm around my waist, pulling me toward him. The warmth of his body presses against mine, the heavy weight of his arm a reassuring presence as he draws the blankets over both of us.

He’s close—so close I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, the heat of him chasing away the lingering chill in the room. His nose brushes against the back of my neck, and I shiver, not from cold but from the sensation of him so near. Bodhi’s thumb rubs slow, soothing circles along my waist, and it’s enough to make my body relax, melting into the space between us.

“What’s got you up in the middle of the night?” he mumbles, his voice soft and rough with sleep. His breath tickles my neck, warm and steady, and I can’t help but smile faintly at the quiet concern in his voice, even half-asleep.

I don’t answer right away, too lost in the feeling of him holding me, the weight of his arm a comfort I didn’t know I needed. The anxiety that had gnawed at me all night is still there, but it’s quieter now, softened by the way Bodhi holds me like I’m something worth protecting.

Finally, I murmur, “Just… tomorrow.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but Bodhi seems to understand, his arm tightening slightly around my waist in silent reassurance.

Bodhi pulls me even closer to his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat resonating against my back, anchoring me in this moment. His voice, still laced with sleep, drops to a low murmur, sending soft vibrations through me. “You’ve got this, you know,” he mumbles, warmth pooling in his words like honey. “You’ll kick their asses tomorrow.”

His confidence in me feels like a shield against the anxiety that had clawed at me all night. I can’t help but smile, feeling the tension in my chest ease just a little.

“And if that other guy tries anything outside the rules,” he continues, his voice dipping even lower, “he’ll have to deal with me.” There’s a protective edge to his tone that makes my heart flutter, the notion of Bodhi standing up for me sending a thrill through my veins.

He rests his chin atop my head, a gentle weight that feels comforting and safe. “You’re stronger than you think,” he adds softly, each word wrapping around me like a warm embrace. “Just remember that, and you’ll be unstoppable.”

In his arms, with his sweet reassurances washing over me, the fears that had once felt so insurmountable start to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm. I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of him, feeling utterly enveloped in his warmth and unwavering support.

Just as I’m falling asleep in, Bodhi is nudging me gently, urging me to roll over and face him. I comply, shifting so that I’m looking directly into his dark, expressive eyes. His hand finds my cheek, his touch warm and inviting, and heat floods my skin at the contact. It’s as if his palm ignites a fire against my cheek, sending a shiver of warmth spiralling through me.

He studies my face for a moment, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips, and then he leans down, brushing a barely-there kiss against my lips. It’s sweet, feather-light, and it leaves me wanting more. My heart races, and before I can think, my hands find their way into his dark curls, relishing the silky softness of his hair between my fingers.

But it’s that soft kiss that sends all coherent thoughts flying from my mind, leaving me breathless and craving. Bodhi deepens the kiss, tilting his head to fit us perfectly together, and the world around us fades away. The taste of him is intoxicating—warm, with a hint of mint and something uniquely Bodhi that sends a spark of electricity through me.

His lips move against mine with a gentleness that contrasts the intensity of my racing heart, each brush igniting a heat that spreads through my entire body. It’s as if he’s exploring, learning every curve and contour of my lips, and I’m lost in the sensation.

Every nerve ending tingles as he kisses me properly, the connection between us growing more profound with each passing moment. There’s a sweetness to the way he cradles my face, a tenderness that makes my heart swell. I can feel his warmth radiating through the kiss, wrapping me in a cocoon of safety and longing.

When he finally pulls back, our lips lingering just a breath apart, I can’t help but chase his mouth for just another taste, a whisper of connection that leaves me craving more. The air between us is electric, thick with unspoken feelings, and in that moment, I know I’ve stepped into something beautiful, something I never want to end.

Fourth Wing Masterlist - To be made Comment to be added to tag list

#bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran x y/n #bodhi durran x you #bodhi durran smut #bodhi durran fluff #bodhi durran agnst #fourth wing #fourth wing imagines #fourth wing bodhi durran #fourth wing boys #the empyrean #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing bodhi

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snowydoesitall · 8 hours

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✨movie night with the hidden inventory gc✨

*:･ﾟ✧cast: gojo, geto, shoko, utahime, nanami, and haibara

✧summary: a one shot of the hidden inventory friend group’s movie night

♡a/n: i’m back!!! guys please appreciate my efforts with this one this took me several attempts to post and way longer than usual to write

ྀིwarnings: language; gojo and geto are their own warnings atp; no beta we die like suguru’s tea mug

after the discussion regarding which movie they were planning to watch that night had ended, you wrapped up whatever homework you had left before changing into more comfortable clothes and heading to shoko’s dorm a bit early to help her set up.

upon arriving, you find that utahime had the same idea as she was currently standing by the microwave waiting for a bag of popcorn to finish cooking.

shoko was at her laptop, looking perplexed, so you walked over to her to see if she needed help.

“i’ve been trying to get into our disney+ account so i can stream cars onto the tv, but it keeps saying that the password is incorrect”, she explains. “did gojo change the password again?”

“i don’t think so…did you put the question mark at the end?”

shoko paused for a moment before typing something into the password bar. sure enough, the app finally let her in.

she stared at her laptop in disbelief for a solid minute before responding.

“huh, that seemed to do it. thanks.”

you nodded, chuckling lightly, before walking over to utahime, who was microwaving what appeared to be the fifth bag of popcorn.

“damn, do we really need that much popcorn?”, you asked.

“if it were just us girls i would’ve stopped at three or four. but there’s going to be seven of us, and you know how gojo is with snacks”, she responded.

“good point.”

the two of you continued to chat for a bit, shoko joining in once she finished setting up the movie.

eventually, the boys finally showed up with a couple snacks as well as a few bottles of soda, which they set on the counter.

“alright, that’s everyone. shall we start the movie?”, shoko asked.

everyone agreed, grabbing a couple snacks and drinks before settling themselves on either the couch or the floor in front of the tv as shoko presses play on the remote to behind the movie.

as the movie played on, the room was filled with all sorts of chaos. for starters, gojo would not stop quoting lines from the movie, which, while slightly annoying, was tolerable. eventually haibara joined in for a bit, seeing as he’d watched that movie at least a hundred times.

it eventually got tiring though, especially once gojo started quoting lines from completely different movies, and so geto ended up lightly tapping him on the shoulder to get him to stop.

speaking of those two, once gojo’s focus had shifted to his boyfriend, the two of them were practically glued to each other with how close they were. this didn’t exactly surprise you, since gojo is the king of being clingy, especially around geto, and the latter of the two never minded it despite not being super clingy himself.

“alright, you two need to either get a room or stop making out on my floor, because some of us are trying to watch the god damn movie”, shoko complained after about ten minutes of their behavior.

“i mean i’m not opposed to- ow!”

whatever gojo was planning to say next was cut off by you smacking him from the couch.

“making out during a disney movie is crazy, you two”, you stated.

“fair point”, geto responded, lightly shoving gojo off his lap, to the latter’s dismay.

nonetheless, the two of them settled down after a while, so your attention shifted back to the movie.

about halfway through, you started feeling tired, which made sense seeing as it was getting kind of late and you’d had a pretty long day. all the same, you did your best to stay awake, as things in the movie were starting to get real interesting.

you reached into one of the popcorn bowls to grab a few pieces to keep yourself awake. in doing so, your hand brushed against another hand, causing you to pause.

you glanced at nanami, who had reached into the popcorn bowl at the same time you did. the two of you sat there for a moment, neither one lifting your hands from the bowl.

after what seemed like a couple minutes, you finally lifted your hand out of the bowl, a few pieces in your hand.

“looks like we had the same idea”, you remarked with a laugh, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

“looks like it”, nanami responded, a small smile forming on his face as he too grabbed a few pieces of popcorn.

you heard a cough, so you turned to see utahime staring at the two of you, a knowing smile on her face. you stared back at her, hinting for her to back off.

eventually, towards the end of the movie, you were getting more and more tired, to the point where even popcorn wasn’t enough to keep you awake. the last thing you remember before dozing off was the start of the final race.

you woke up slowly to someone gently shaking you awake.

“hey guys, time to wake up, movie just ended”, haibara stated.

you took a glimpse of your surroundings, noticing that the nearly-empty bowl of popcorn had now toppled onto the floor, spilling a few kernels. you then noticed that you’d fallen asleep leaning against nanami, who in turn had fallen asleep against the armrest of the couch.

haibara was standing in front of the two of you, currently trying to wake up nanami, who was still sound asleep against the armrest. you sat up quickly, hoping that he hadn’t noticed you dozing off on him, but you figured he must’ve since the second you got up was when he finally woke up, slightly dazed and tense as he glanced around the room, presumably to find where you’d gone.

once he noticed you sitting next to him, he let out a sigh of relief, looking more relaxed.

“you okay, man?”, haibara asked, looking slightly confused.

nanami turned to face the brown-haired boy, looking as if he’d just noticed his presence.

“oh, sorry…i’m fine, just…it’s nothing.”

you and haibara looked at him suspiciously, feeling that it wasn’t just “nothing”, but didn’t pry.

“i’m fine, you two. seriously.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, you heard shoko calling for the three of you.

“hey! are you two sleepyhead lovers and hai going to help me clean up or what?”

“the WHAT?”, you exclaimed, looking at shoko with an mixed expression of shock and confusion all at once. meanwhile, haibara was looking like he was trying not to laugh while nanami was awkwardly looking around the room, trying to avoid eye contact, a twinge of pink starting to show on his face.

“nothing! don’t worry about it, now come help us clean up!”

you signed, knowing you weren’t going to get a legitimate answer from her, at least not right now, so you got up from the couch and started cleaning up, the other two boys following suit.

but as you were clearing up the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think about what shoko said.

lovers?, you thought to yourself. but how could that be? we’re just friends, after all…

but then you started to look more into it, moments of the night playing through your mind. the small smile he gave you when your hand brushed against his earlier, the way neither of you pulled away immediately, his slight blush at shoko’s jab at the two of you, the way he rose up from his sleep the second he no longer felt your presence, all of it.

the more and more you thought about it, the more and more you realized that perhaps the other girls had a point.

“you okay?”

you snapped back into reality as you turned to face nanami, who was looking at you with concern.

“yeah, i’m fine, just…tired”, you tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.

you weren’t entirely sure if nanami believed you, but he didn’t show it if he didn’t.

“i see. anyway, the others are planning to crash here for the night. the cleaning’s pretty much done if you wanted to head to bed.”

sleep did sound pretty nice right then and there, so you nodded.

“yeah, that might be a good idea, it is pretty late…”

the two of you headed back to the living room space. nanami returned to his spot on shoko’s couch, leaning against the armrest, while you sat next to him and tried to fall asleep sitting upwards, not wanting to invade his personal space nor accidentally wake up haibara, who had taken up the other side of the couch.

“there’s no way that’s comfortable”, nanami remarked as he noticed your attempts.

“sorry, didn’t want to intrude or anything”, you replied.

“i didn’t mind the first time, why would i mind now?”, he asked. “make yourself comfortable. i promise i don’t mind.”

with that, you hesitantly went back to leaning against nanami, finding him a lot more comfortable than trying to sleep sitting up.

before long, you were finally starting to fall asleep. you felt an arm gently wrap itself around you, and while you certainly didn’t expect it, you didn’t try to pull away, nor did you feel uncomfortable. instead, you felt at ease, like this was natural, almost.

by the time sleep came to take you away for the night, you were pretty certain that nanami had some sort of feelings for you.

hell, at this point, you were starting to think that you did, too.

oh god this ended up longer than i expected😭

♫tag list: @ofcqdesi @duwangdays

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lightlycareless · 21 hours

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Because everyone asked (I mean, kind of, I for sure wanted to hehe) here is the continuation to this small piece :>!!

Warnings: none. your family is overprotective of you. overall fluff.

Happy reading!!

You knew it was coming, the moment you saw Satoru and Suguru frantically rush out the classroom door and disappear into the hallways with your secret, you knew it was only a matter of time before either your siblings, or your father, called you to discuss the elephant in the room.

And yet, you still hoped they’d let this slide. Prayed that somehow this would be forgotten, just like everything else that usually pertained to you—in true Satoru fashion— and let you return to the safe haven you’ve found in Naoya…

Whatever you desired was instantly thrown out the window the moment you received the following message from your father.

“Please come home this weekend, there is much to discuss.”

Oh, how you wanted the earth to simply swallow you whole. Lighting to strike you, or… just about anything really, to avoid this situation.

But alas, Friday was fast approaching, and when you were just mere minutes away from joining your siblings for the ride back home, you began to anxiously prepare to face the consequences of your actions—all unthinkable scenarios soon crossing your mind.

“Let me go with you.” Naoya would insist once more, virtually glued to his phone in case you needed anything. “I can talk to your father if need be.”

“As much as I want to… I feel like this is something I need to do on my own.”

“Y/N…”

“In case anything happens, I… I want you to know I love you.” You confessed. “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will always cherish our short moments together.”

Naoya swallows, hating the lump forming in his throat, the way his heart sank to his stomach at the very likely situation of never seeing you again after today.

But just like you, he doesn’t lose hope. Not yet—for he still counts on fate to keep the two together; after all, his feelings for you were too pure, genuine, ones he never thought himself capable of harboring.

That must be something… right?

For Naoya at least, it does. And he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you.

“Hey… dad.” It was the fateful moment, uttered the moment you walked into his studio, quietly sliding the door close behind you and making way to the seat in front of his desk, where you’d find both your father and siblings seemingly scrutinizing your presence: the obvious disapproval of your relationship with Naoya.

“Hello, Y/N.” he responds, tone void of the usual enthusiasm that followed. Today you weren’t to talk with the chirpy, goofy father you knew.

This time you’d face the strict side of him, the leader of the clan.

And that made you feel even tinier.

“I guess we’re going straight to it… right?” you ask.

Eiichi presses his lips together—yes.

“Fa—father, I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m not going to deny the disappointment I felt upon hearing you had a boyfriend, especially after you promised to only focus on your studies.” Your father interrupts, his words chipping at your poor heart. “And of all people, the heir of the Zen’in just had to be the one you were dating.”

Feeling as the worst daughter ever, your gaze lowered to the floor, hoping that by evading his eyes his reprimands would be a fraction more tolerable—but it would be for naught, since the damage was already done: you’ve lost his trust, and thus, Naoya.

There was nothing else to say, you might as well voice your regrets.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears soon dampen your cheeks. “I’m sorry dad for disappointing you—”

“…But what hurt me more… was the fact that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” Eiichi reveals with a sniffle that shows he too had begun to cry.

“D—Dad—”

“…Does he make you happy? Beyond the rumors that plague him and his family, have you truly found happiness by his side?”

“I… I have.” You finally confess, fidgeting with the edges of your sleeve. “He makes me really happy, like I’ve never felt before.”

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

“Wait, what?! That’s all you’re going to say, father?!” Hinata, your sister, is the first to cut the tension between the two with a loud shriek; clearly expecting a type of fight, some resistance for a relationship she considered unjustifiable in so many levels—you were far too good for someone like him! Surely her dad could see that?! “It’s—It’s Naoya for god’s sake! From that wretched Zen’in clan!”

“I know; but at the same time, this is Y/N’s decision to take. And if she’s happy, who am I to stop her?” He answers, much to your sister’s growing frustration. “I know all about being in love and fighting the odds to be with the one you cherish!”

Hinata scowls, somewhat disgusted by the comparison. Naoya could never…

“Though I am a bit upset that you didn’t tell me anything, pumpkin! Why didn’t you?”

“I… I guess I was… afraid.” You swallow, doing your best to wipe the tears from your face and compose your voice. “I’m aware of what people think of Naoya, so I… thought it would be better to keep it… a… secret…”

“But from me?!” Eiichi cries. “We swore to always tell each other everything, remember?!”

A promise made when you were very, very young; so much so, you probably didn’t even think much of it, just wanting to follow your father’s lead and continue doing whatever it is that you did back then…

But to him, it was a pact signed with blood (dramatic much?) and such, your secrecy hurt him deeply.

“I still don’t trust Naoya.” Hinata quietly adds.

“You ought to trust Y/N.” Ren, your brother, adds. “She wouldn’t have lasted as long if she wasn’t happy with him.”

“Wait—how do you know how long—?” you blink.

“You knew?!” Eiichi gasps once more, betrayed yet again by another one of his children. Has he done something to earn their mistrust?! “Did everyone here know of this and decided not to tell me??”

“I didn’t know!” Hinata cried. “How did you find out, Ren?!”

“It was written all over Y/N’s face—”

You, your sister, and father looked at him as if he’d grown a second head, making him roll his eyes and sigh.

“Really? Did none of you notice how chirpy she became? Or how flustered she’d return after getting lunch?” Ren raises an eyebrow, Hinata shakes her head, you simply… blush, embarrassed that your careful attempts to keep your relationship a secret were not discreet at all. “I sometimes even wonder where your head is, Hinata… It was written all over her face!”

“I mean, she’s always like that, right, father???”

Eiichi remains silent, the subtle admission that he agreed with Ren’s observations. The signs of an infatuated girl were there: from how he’d hear you talk “to yourself” late at night, to always keeping close to the phone at home just in case one of your friends from school called…

The signs were always there, he was just too blind to see them, perhaps out of his disposition to see the little girl he always considered you to be—you were his youngest, after all.

And yet, he couldn’t blame you; for he had been in your shoes too, acting the same way when meeting your mother, if not worse, for his relationship became the talk of the town as soon as everyone caught wind of it. You had managed to keep it a secret at least!

Eiichi also knew that a part of you, beneath the playful, carefree child you always were, desired to find the love of your life, a hopeless romantic naturally inspired by the devoted relationship he had with Tomoko, and the all-around loving relationship they all had as a family.

Thus, it was highly unrealistic of him to expect you to only focus on your career when he knew of this side of you, or when he also hoped that by enrolling in jujutsu high you’d find someone responsible, hardworking, and of course dedicated; someone that would provide you with a good life and everything else you desired, as a future partner.

Perhaps most of his shock (if not all) came from the fact that he never imagined those shoes to be filled by Naoya himself! The snobbish heir of the Zen’in, a clan most would want to steer away from when money wasn’t involved.

A kid he always knew as keen to torment others, not cherish them!

And yet, here you were, seemingly enamored with him; and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual…

Still, he worries. He has to, it’s his job as your father. To think of the worst things that could happen to you and do everything in his power to prevent them.

But Ren’s words held some truth behind them: if Naoya wasn’t of your liking, if he hadn’t been what you imagined… then this train of thought wouldn’t be happening at all. Your father likes to believe—no, he knows that you’re sensible enough to do the right thing.

And if that is to be by his side… then he’ll support till the end of the road.

With a few requirements, of course.

“Does that mean… I’m not in trouble anymore?” you murmur, your soft voice making Eiichi’s heart squeeze.

“Oh, you were never in trouble, Y/N!” He gasps, quick to stand from his seat and take you into his arms, easing your anxieties into embarrassment given the way you soon became overwhelmed by his gestures.

“Dad—that’s—you’re choking me!”

“I’m so sorry for frightening you, pumpkin. I was just worried that you weren’t happy with him. But you don’t know how glad I am that you’ve found someone to share your life with.” Eiichi adds. “…And I’m so sorry that I made you think you were disappointment—you are not; you could never be!”

“Dad…” your voice trembles, hugging him tightly in return.

“But I still have to meet him, Y/N. You have to bring him home if you want this relationship to continue.” Eiichi soon warns. “And no doing anything of that nature until you’re much older! Or at least safely, I wouldn’t want you to pause your stud—”

“Oh my god, dad! Can you not say that in front of my siblings?!” You shriek, whatever embarrassment you felt before was nothing compared to this. “We barely do anything…”

“As it should be, you’re far too young to be thinking about anything else!”

“I’m sure you were a saint, father.” Ren snickers, his jest going completely over Eiichi’s head.

“I was! I did everything to win your mother’s heart, but always careful enough to never offend her or her family!”

“Woosh…” Ren laughs, finding his father’s naivety hilarious.

“Well, whatever! That doesn’t mean I’m all too happy about it…” Hinata crosses her arms, pouting. “Not when he hasn’t even formally introduced himself to us! I can’t believe I got to hear about it from Satoru and Suguru first!”

“Can he come over today? No—he must come over today! I have to talk to him before anything else—"

“Wait, dad he—I can’t invite him over today! He’s going to freak out! I need to prepare him, you know…?”

“Prepare him? Don’t tell me that jerk gets nervous.” Hinata says.

“Hinata, we need to respect Y/N’s boyfriend.” Eiichi defends Naoya, making Hinata squirm out of disgust. “But fine, I’ll give him a week to prepare his speech as to why I should let him date my adorable daughter!”

“Dad, you’re going to scare him!” you fret.

“Then he better come prepared.”

Well, it’s good to know that at the end of the day, you never really had anything to worry about—your father was just concerned about you, as he always was, but still approved of your relationship with Naoya. Somewhat, he has yet to be fully convinced that Naoya is indeed the best match for you, and considering his overprotective nature, seems like your boyfriend will need to do so for the rest of his life…

But Naoya would much rather take on this than the notion of losing you.

Didn’t stop his blood from running cold when you eventually told him, probably the most nerve-wracking thing he’s had to prepare for in his life, but he still pushed forward—because for you he’ll go to the end of the world, just to keep you by his side.

Naoya meeting your father is happening too :)))))) keep him in your prayers.

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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