#and its a little selfish of her to wrap her arm around him because she needs the reminder that hes there and safe and whole

[bunny-jpeg]

sinful sentence (five)

lando norris - "you're so very tempting..."

tags: smut/pwp, friends-with-benefits (with feelings), simp!lando, sanrio plushies, possessive behavior, jealousy & manipulation, safe sex

the sinful sentences catalogue

this was not according to plan. this was supposed to be fun. you should be honoured really, lando never liked tapping the same girl twice. let alone three, four, five, seven times. he had lost count the amount of times he had fucked you into the mattress of his bed. watched you reach climax in the sea of soft pillows, your heavy pants into the light grey pillowcases as your back arched with a primal want.

but what started out as a means to an end. had become something a little more intense. it was like lighting matches in a gas station, the inferno was bound to happen. and it all started over a fucking stuffed animal.

"liam got you this?" he asked as he plucked it off of your bed, "are you fucking him?" he tried to keep the jealousy at bay.

"no!" you said as you crossed your arms and looked at him, "you know people give gifts to each other and not just when they're apologizing for something." you had a vast collection of luxury items from lando because he fucked up. you didn't know why he was getting jealous of liam.

lando looked at the stuffed animal, it was of hello kitty or one of those little sanrio things. the marketable plushie that seemed to invade every female's bedroom like mold. lando hated the thing. he looked at it and said, "you're so very tempting... tempting to throw in the trash." and the toy was taken from his hand and you wrapped your arms around it quickly. the face of the toy was right in the valley of your breasts that were covered by your bra.

"excuse me! don't talk that way to my melody!" that was the name of it, "be nice to her!"

lando made a face, "i would be nice to her, if she wasn't given to you by that fucker." he got into bed with you. he got his hands on either side of you and leaned you further back into the bed, "i don't like him touching what is min."

you frowned, "we're just friends, lando. you didn't want commitment, remember?" lando's biggest failure. it wasn't on the track, but rather not pinning you down. he said he was casual and he had regretted it every day since.

"well, unless you wanna be used by drivers until your worn out like a tire, i suggest you limit your driver fucking to one." to him. and you shoved him before you laid back in bed. the toy discarded to the other side of the bed.

"i didn't think you were capable of being so fucking possessive." you said before you pulled him by the front of his t-shirt. you sealed your lips against his and he started to get his joggers off. his stupid fucking words excited you sexually. and while it was all casual, it was nice to see him get so wound up over you.

you knew he was a sucker for you, and you flirted with that idea. liam didn't get you the stuffed animal, you bought it yourself at the drug store and lied to lando about it. to watch the british driver bite his words because some rookie is trying to get in his territory. it was cute in its patheticness. his clothes came off along with your undergarments.

you watched lando angrily grab one of the condoms out of the box on the nightstand and get it on before his situations himself between your legs. his handsome eyes bore into your heated flesh like he was trying to make holes in your skin. only he got to see you like this, under him and sexually needy.

when he sank into you, he cursed under his breath. you fit like a vice and even with the condom on, he could still feel the heat of your pussy. this was why he didn't want liam lawson to be sniffing around what it is. yeah, it was casual, but that didn't mean lando had to share. call him a selfish prick for that, he didn't care. you were his, and no rookie was going to take that from him.

especially when he leaned forward and started to move against you. he maintained eye contact as he thrusted against you. he held onto the covers under you as used the surface as leverage to work his cock inside of you. the bed creaked under the movements and the slick sounds of fucking filled the air paired with your heated noises.

"shit, that's it. that feels good." lando licked his lips and made eye contact with the stuffed toy near the wall. its plastic eyes watched lando ruin your cunt. stuff it full of him. he knew it was stupid, but he grinned wickedly at the toy as he continued to move against you.

he wished he could take photos of what he was doing to you right at that moment. show liam exactly how to pleasure a woman of your caliber. lando was certain that liam wouldn't even make you cum, that you'd have to fake an orgasm. but you've never faked with lando, he knew it. because he knew your body like he knew his. how to hit at just the right spots to make you see stars.

this casual affair between you two was heated to its roots. lando wanted you more than just sexually. but no amount of luxury he could give you was enough. you weren't easily swayed by material goods. as you once told him, "i'm not a crow, no need to distract me with shiny objects." but lando knew he was going mad every time he saw you with someone else.

you sated every need in his body, why couldn't you simply be his? why did you have to keep so close to the terms of being casual. lando needed you and he didn't need someone else trying to worm their way into your life. he couldn't allow it, he wouldn't allow it.

"look at you, under me. don't need plushies when you got me. you hated gifts, what made lawson so special."

you pushed your luck as you replied, "because he's actually a gentleman. not a panting dog looking to get his dick sucked every hour of every day. he at least knows how to treat a woman." it was all utter bullshit, but you felt lando's pace stagger for a moment from your words.

"bigger than me, princess?" he panted heavily, "does it stretch you out the way i do? leave you a mess? i know you talk big game about wanting a gentleman. so i need to know, is he bigger?"

you reached out and held onto his shoulders tightly, "no." then pulled him in for another kiss. you moaned into the kiss and tightened your thighs around his waist as he fucked you with heavy strokes. the pleasure made your head throb as the he clutched onto the covers tighter.

the pleasure was intense, the movements were rough. the sexual electricity was felt between you two as the kisses got more heated. you liked when lando became a man possessed when it came to his envy. he was a slave to his jealousy when it really gripped him. his breathing were heavy pants as he continued to move against you. the pleasure was a monster inside of him as his movements continued.

when he broke the kiss, he looked down at you with a glint in his eye, "he could never fuck you like this. he could never take you the way i do. he's a pussy." he pressed into you further, his pace was brutal and it made you only hotter.

your orgasm felt close the more he fucked you. the more his heavy thrusts made your mind go blank for a split second. you held onto his shoulders tightly and let him use your pussy to his liking. taking every ounce of pleasure that he could give you. if he was jealous then you were greedy for his cock.

he was right, no one else could ever have you the way he did. no other man could bring you to climax the way he did. he had re-wired your brain sexually that other hook-ups seemed so bland. lando knew exactly how to fuck you. so it was no surprise that after another round of heated kisses, you held onto him tightly and your toes curled.

you came around his cock and he soon came in the condom. you tensed up and lurched forward from the sensation and he kept you pinned down as you both finished. then slowly he came to a stop and grabbed you by the face to kiss you once more.

lando groaned against the kiss and he rubbed his softening cock inside of you to get that extra bit of pleasure before he felt content with what he had done. when he pulled out. he got up to toss the condom and when he got into bed. he grabbed the plush and looked it in its plastic eyes.

before he could make more threats to it. you plucked it from his hands, "either your nice to it or you can make yourself comfortable on my couch tonight."

he made a face and mentally promised himself. is liam lawson thought your affection was for sale, then lando would have to double the offer and make sure that you didn't end up in that rookie's arms. <3

[auraisereigh]

"Haunted hours"

standalone

Brennan Sorrengail x reader Blurb: Brennan helps reader with Haunted sleepless nights. wc: 4.9 ☆ no spoilers for the books. yet another personal one that happened last night mentions of nightmares, terror, sleep paralysis. overthinking. i did make this one more neutrel so it's not completly how i felt last night but keep in mind its all very emotional and has to do with self-worth and insecurities. Uses pronouns: she/her., i think, i'm actually not sure but i'm too sick to check.

Masterlist ☆ Dragon guide ☆ Star's story ☆ Empyrean guide ☆ Support me

The days have been long, and the nights even longer. My mind is fine during the day, but at night, it spirals. Thoughts wander to unpleasant places, no matter how hard I try to keep them away.

Waking up at the start of the day, I felt fine. I was the same person who tried to be happy and positive about everything, no matter what. You’d barely notice a difference. Almost none at all. The only thing was that my heart felt heavy, and it ached.

At night, however, everything came crumbling down. My emotions and feelings would flood through me, and there was almost nothing I could do to stop them.

Brennan had noticed it, too. He’d tried to get me to sleep, but he always fell asleep before I did. It had been a few long weeks, and it made sense—he was exhausted.

Tonight was one of those nights. I lay wide awake while he slept beside me. I didn’t know what to do. I’d been wanting to read, but I would have to light a candle, and I didn’t want to risk waking him. He needed his sleep. It would be selfish to light a candle.

So I lay there, watching the clock tick past midnight. 1 a.m... 2 a.m...

Sleep medicine felt pointless. The moment I closed my eyes, the worries returned, haunting me. Staying awake seemed like the only way to escape them.

I sat up and pulled off my sweater. The more time passed, the hotter it became. Maybe it was Brennan’s body heat transferring to me. Not that I’d complain—I usually had to bundle myself up because I got cold so easily.

I tossed the sweater toward the end of the bed. At some point, I’d probably become cold again, and then I’d curse myself for throwing it that far.

I felt movement beside me and turned to see Brennan, who was supposed to be sound asleep. But as I looked at him, our eyes locked. His hair was disheveled, a little all over the place, but it only made him look softer.

“You’re still awake,” he whispered. His arm moved to my waist, his hand resting there as he caressed me.

He rolled onto his side and wrapped both arms around me, pulling me close. I let him, resting my head on his chest. I could feel and hear his heart beating. It had become one of the most soothing sounds in my life, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the voices in my head—the ones that kept whispering negative things.

“It’s okay, my love,” Brennan reassured me. One of his hands tangled in my hair, slowly massaging my scalp. I took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent.

He pulled back slightly so we could look at each other, his other hand cupping my face and tracing my cheek.

“You don’t have to talk about it. I know it’s harder for you at night, but I’m right here,” he murmured. His voice was raw with sleep, but his words soothed me in a way I couldn’t explain. Just knowing he was here, that I wasn’t alone, no matter how often I felt that way.

He pulled the thick blanket higher over us, cocooning us in its warmth. Both of his hands returned to my hair, and he pressed a tender kiss to my temple.

“Talk to me,” he said, looking at me expectantly. “Excuse me?” I replied, a little confused. I thought we’d settled that I didn’t want to talk about it now. Why bring it up again?

“Talk to me, smartie. Any fact or folklore that comes to mind. Just tell me,” he encouraged. His voice was smooth and gentle. He knew I’d spent hours reading and studying folklore, facts, and history. It was one of the most interesting things to me, even if parts of history were inaccurate.

I kept quiet for a while, my mind blank except for the emotional weight I’d been carrying. Everything keeps pilling up and there was nothing i could do to stop it, to make it feel lighter.

Brennan reached behind me and grabbed one of my three dragon plushies—a green one. He placed it beside us with delicate care. “What are green dragons known for?” he challenged softly, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Greens are known for being the most reasonable. Their original hatching grounds were at Basgiath, but after unification, they offered their grounds to all dragonkind, as it was the safest place for their hatchlings. It’s unknown whether both green dragon lines shared the same grounds before unification,” I recited smoothly. Dragon lore was my favorite. It also happened to be the topic I knew most about.

His eyes lit up slightly. “There’s my smart girl,” he praised, and my heart swelled at the nickname. I’d always loved nicknames—they made me feel loved and wanted.

He picked up another small plush, a blue one I’d named Tàlaidh, meaning lullaby. The blue dragon was my first dragon plush, and during nights of nightmares, terrors, and sleep paralysis, Tàlaidh was always there to make me feel safe. Even if it was silly.

He placed it next to the green. “What about blues?” he asked gently, his eyes still on me.

“Blues are ruthless, strong-willed, and lethal. They’re intimidating and rule-breakers,” I answered. My head started feeling heavy, my eyelids drooping as I spoke. “Impressive,” Brennan replied as his hand traced my shoulder.

Finally, he picked up the last plush—a slightly larger orange dragon—and placed it between the smaller ones. “Now, my love, what do you know about oranges? But be careful; your answer may determine how long this marriage lasts,” he teased.

I couldn’t help but crack a small smile. It wasn’t much, but even that tiny smile made me feel a little better.

“There’s that smile I love so much,” he whispered, softly brushing a strand of hair from my face.

“Oranges are unpredictable,” I started, closing my eyes for a moment. “Their original hatching grounds were in the Northern Esbens, but due to their unpredictable nature, they moved around the area a lot.” When I opened my eyes again, he was looking at me with such adoration that it made me wonder how I deserved it.

“And yours? You’re basically obsessed with your dragon,” he teased, his touch on my cheek soft and loving.

“Reds are loyal...” I began, but a yawn interrupted me, and I couldn’t bring myself to say more. Brennan must have noticed. He tucked me in closer, pressing a soft kiss to my temple before resting his head against mine, his arms wrapping around me.

“Let me continue,” he murmured lovingly against my temple. His voice started to fade as I drifted off. “Black dragons are rare. They are extremely smart...” His words became softer, a lullaby pulling me into sleep.

Brennan stopped speaking when he noticed I’d fallen asleep.

“Sleep well, my love,” he whispered. “I know it’s hard right now, but I vowed that I’d never leave you alone. And I never will.”

A promise.

♡

[purplestanleypinkblanket]

First Kiss With Logan:

Pairings: (DP3 Vers.) Logan Howlett x reader

Summary: After a shitty date, you seek comfort from Wade who threw you a ‘Cherry Popped’ party. It ends up making you feel worse, which leads you into the arms of a man who’s grown fond of you. Logan.

Warnings: Kissing, talking about bad date, cursing, brief mentions of drinking, innuendos to "cherry popping", use of the word virgin. Self-deprecating talk in some areas, from both reader and Logan.

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2,388

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You hated that you found yourself, seated across from a man who, frankly, hadn't asked you a single question about yourself all night. You also hated how much this man yapped. God, all he did was talk and talk without even the slightest breath. And you hated that you continued to stay seated. Perhaps you were too kind, or maybe you thought you had no right to leave. After all, the man was buying you dinner. It was hard to shake that kind of guilt. You knew you owed him nothing, that it's okay to leave a shitty date- but a part of you wondered if this was all you had going for you. A shitty date, with a shitty man on a shitty afternoon.

As you spaced out your thoughts drifted back to Logan, you wondered if dates with him were like this. What if they weren't? What if he was kind? Well, slightly kinder than normal. He didn't strike you as the pull-your-chair-out-for-you kinda guy, but you had a feeling he would ask you questions instead of yapping your ear off. Maybe he would ask about your day at work, or what you like to do in your free time. Possibly he'd like to hear funny stories about your family. No, that felt too intimate for a first date. Maybe on a third date you'd share those stories with him.

God, what are you even on about right now? You're on a date with a man buying you dinner and you're thinking about Logan! As your eyes looked over the man, you finally tuned back into what he was saying.

"My ex was fucking crazy! That bitch-"

Aaanndd, you lost interest immediately. The more this dude spoke, the more of a dick he sounded. You couldn't help but feel thankful when the date ended. However, the chime of your phone caught your attention during the walk back to your apartment.

'Hey, sugar tits.' Wade's text read. 'Come over, we're celebrating you getting your cherry popped!' That dick knew you weren't a virgin, he just wanted a damn reason to celebrate. What better way to celebrate then partying over your friend not getting laid? It was a cruel joke you really weren't in the mood for but the image of Logan blowing up balloons with Blind Al, a smile just barely tugging at his usually grumpy face...it was hard to say no too. And Wade knew that- its why he sent you the picture after all.

"Fucking dick." You murmured to yourself as you wrapped your cardigan around you tighter, pushing the front door to Wade's apartment open as you did so. The sight was ridiculous, balloons, streamers, wall decor, banners that read 'Pop That Cherry!' draped off the ceiling. You took a mental note to punch Wade in his smart-ass lip later. But, for now, it was nice being in the comfort of your friends. Yes, even the snarky teenager Negasonic and her girlfriend. You were a teenage girl once, but it still didn't stop you getting annoyed when she nitpicked your outfits. It isn't your fault baggy sweaters and legging were literally a godsent.

You trudged your way through the crowded apartment, hand adjusting your white sweater to cover the tank top under it a little better. As you approached Logan and Wade, you grew more aware of the length of your skirt. Was it too long? Too short? Would Logan think it looked good? God, why did you even care what Logan Howlett, labeled the worst wolverine, thought of you? You didn't think he was the worst wolverine. You'd never say it, of course not, because then he'd know you actually liked being around him! Perhaps it was selfish of you to keep yourself so guarded around him, but you couldn't shake the fear of letting down your walls and risking getting hurt. It was scary. Losing that much control. And over what, a feeling?

A hand extending towards you caught your attention, it was Logan, offering you a drink.

"Thank you." You spoke to him, voice quiet compared to the blaring pop music Wade was playing. He grunted in response, but you swear you heard a 'you're welcome.' You brought it to your lips, casually slow sipping the alcohol over the course of the night. It was fun to dance with Vanessa as Wade and Peter tried to convince Logan to join the group. You couldn't help the laugh on your lips when Wade made a snarky comment about Logan's panties being in a twist, earning a threatening unsheathing of claws from logan. You never fully understood the shame Logan felt, even though you tried incredibly hard to. To you, he was amazing, he was strong, he was...well, to say you only admired him would be a lie.

You wished you could show Logan the way you saw him, the way the world saw him. Sure, he was hot, unnecessarily hot, with large biceps and shoulders that went for days. But he was more than that. He was a grump who pushed people away out of fear of hurting them. And to prevent himself from getting hurt. It was ironic, really. Perhaps you and him were more alike than you thought. After a while in the overstimulating party, you slipped away, moving to stand on the balcony. You hadn't been there long, probably thirty minutes? It was nice, listening to your friend's party as you took a break to look at the city.

"Thought I'd find you here." Logan's rough voice spoke as he walked out onto the balcony, shutting the door behind him.

You hummed in response, flashing him a smile as you looked away. Logan could feel his heart skip a beat at your smile- it was always nice when you graced him with it. He'd give anything to see you smile. Hell, he wished he could make you smile and laugh the way Wade and Vanessa did. They matched your morbid sarcastic humor easily. Something he struggled to do. He approached you, leaning onto the railing beside you.

"Congrats on the...uh..."

"I'm not a virgin."

"Oh..."

The silence was awkward between you. You had to purse your lips to prevent you from bursting out in a laugh. You found it hilarious how just one statement suddenly made him go quiet.

"Wade had-" You spoke, trying to stifle your laugh with your hand. "Wade thought it would be funny to throw a 'cherry popped' party because it's been forever since my last date." You revealed, not able to contain your laugh any longer. "It's actually kinda sweet. In a weird way, ya know, Wades weird way." The corners of Logan's mouth lifted slightly at the sound of your laugh. It had always been his favorite sound after meeting you.

"Guess so." Logan contributed to the conversation, bringing the glass beer bottle to his lips. You looked at logan watching as he looked over the city, your eyes analyzing him. His jaw, his hair, the crow's feet by his eyes from his constant state of scowling. Maybe it was the liquid courage you had drank. Or you finally just decided to give Logan a sense of affection. You loved to shower your friends with affection, often times holding Wade as you two watched tv, or Vanessa sitting on your lap as you gossiped. Logan had seen it plenty of times. God, sometimes you even gave Peter affection. Each time he felt a twinge of jealousy, he wanted to be the object of your affectionate touches. Or the way you murmured praise directed at them after a task- he wanted that.

Your hand reached up, gently soothing out some strands of his beard that were in disarray. Logan tensed under your touch, and you immediately pulled away, guilt and embarrassment swarming you.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You adamantly apologized, face heating up.

"Don't worry about it." Logan roughly said, silently regretting the way you withdrew so quickly. He watched as you tried to subtly put some distance between the two of you- the sting of rejection clear as day on your face. He hadn't meant to reject you; you were reading too much into it. His mind sidetracked as he looked away, maybe he was the one reading too much into it? "How was your date?" He settled on asking, bringing the beer to his lips.

"Shitty." You sighed, frowning.

Logan nodded, waiting for you to continue. Silence falls between you two and he flashed you an expectant glance. You hadn't realized he wanted you to keep talking until he looked at you.

"Oh, uh, there isn't really much to say." You shrugged, looking away. "He didn't ask any questions, just talked about himself the whole time. Was super annoying too." Logan couldn't help the satisfaction that welled in his chest upon hearing your defeated words. It sucked for you, of course it did. But Logan was so glad the date was bad- that way no one could come in, sweep you off your feet, and away from him. He hadn't made a move on you, and he couldn't decide if he ever would. He didn't want to risk hurting you like he had done the others he cared for.

However, the glance of tiredness in your expression when you had looked at him momentarily...he hated it. He hated himself for being so happy your date was bad, and he hated that he wasn't the one you wanted to sweep you off your feet.

"Like...it isn't hard to make a girl feel special. To make her feel like a princess." You laughed with a shake of your head. "I dunno, maybe I'm just expecting too much?" You looked at Logan as you asked, a need for reassurance present.

Logan stared at you; brows furrowed as he analyzed you. The scowl on his features prominent. Believing you had said too much, or you annoyed him with your ramblings, an apology escaped your lips.

"Fuck, sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Princess." Logan's comment snapped you from your rushed apology. "Relax." He had taken that brave step closer to you, facing you fully as his side and arm holding the beer leaned against the balcony railing. He was glad you were comfortable enough to unload that on him and he was determined to keep it that way. "I don't mind." You looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly pursed as your mind ran. That was another thing he liked about you. It was so easy to tell if you were thinking. Your eyebrows always furrowed, your lips pursed into a line, and your eyes always spoke a thousand words.

Despite his better judgement, his hand rose, gently flattening the skin between your eyebrows. The gesture was small, yet it held so much intimacy. You had always been picky about who could touch you. You loved to shower your friends with affection, but rarely ever let anyone reciprocate it back. Logan wondered why that was. What had affected you so much that you refused to let anyone even shake your hand. Here he was, though, thumb moving from the area between your eyebrows to his hand cupping your cheek. Your eyes were wide, your throat dry. You had never expected this from him. This gentleness, the way he had observed your furrowed brows...you leaned your face into his hand, unable to help the way you melted into it. It was a chilly night, and, God, was he warm.

Logan closed the distance between the two of you, now standing directly in front of you. His thumb caressing your cheek. As he stared into your eyes, his gaze couldn't help but flicker down to your lips, a red faded stain on them from the lipstick you had worn to your date. They looked so soft, so enticing. And he couldn't help but wonder if that peppermint chapstick you wore 24/7 worked. He had never been one for chapstick, but you seemed obsessed with it. Logan's thumb slipped from where it rubbed your cheek to your bottom lip, slowly tracing it. You subconsciously licked your lips as he traced them, your chest tight. Why was it suddenly so difficult to breathe? Your throat was beyond dry, your face paled under his gaze yet somehow it felt like your blush deepened. The way his eyes analyzed your lip, your eyes, your nose, that mark you had since you were a child...It was like he was memorizing you.

You wanted to say something, anything. Preferably something sarcastic and witty. No words came to your lips regardless of the fact that your mind was working overdrive. Time slowed as his thumb gently pulled your lip down, encouraging your mouth to part as his hand cupped your chin now, guiding you closer to him. He leaned down, face inches from yours. He paused there, however, waiting for your permission because he knew that you needed that variation of control to feel safe. He wanted to make you feel safe, he wanted you to know you were safe. That he had you. You brushed your lips against his, slightly closing that gap between you two. He took that as permission as he pressed his lips to yours fully. It was gentle at first, as if he was scared that at any moment you'd disappear. Or worse, break.

Your arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as you held onto him. His hands finally rested around your waist, the kiss growing stronger as he deepened it. People claim that you would feel fireworks during a kiss, but that wasn't the case at all. You felt electricity against your skin that was against him, but the most powerful feeling was how right it felt. Like you were meant to be there, in his arms, kissing him, holding him. He had broken the kiss, opening his eyes to stare at you.

Logan wondered if he'd ever be able to let another person get close to him. He was certain Wade would've been the only one- a victim of the circumstance's kind of thing. But he sure as hell was glad that today he was the one who held you attention as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

[sosa2imagines]

Hiya! I have a Steve Rogers fic request! So, reader and Steve are together for about a year now. Reader is sick and not feeling particularly well. One day, reader falls with morning sickness and she takes a pregnancy test to check before hand. It comes back positive, however she panics because she knows it's not Steve's. She confesses to Steve. However, instead of breaking the relationship, he helps her and guides her through maternity, together.

Hope you have fun writing! 😊💕

Warning- Angst, fluff, unexpected pregnancy.

You wake with a heaviness in your chest, not the emotional kind, not yet. Your stomach churns violently, and the instant you lift your head from the pillow, you know what’s coming.

The bathroom tiles are cold against your knees as you throw up for the second time that morning.

Its been happening for ten days straight now.

Your fingers tremble when you reach for the sink, trying to steady yourself. You’ve told yourself it’s probably the flu, maybe some bad takeout. But deep down you know.

You grab your phone, check the calendar. One week late.

The test burns a hole in your drawer. You bought it days ago, just in case. You never thought you'd actually have to use it.

And now, you stare at the little window, eyes fixed, heartbeat pounding louder than your thoughts.

Two lines.

Positive.

You sit on the bathroom floor for a long time, unable to move. You want to scream. Cry. Run. But none of those things would change the truth you already knew before the test confirmed it.

It's not Steve’s.

Your boyfriend of nearly a year. The man who holds your hand like it's precious, who never forgets how you take your coffee, who stays up with you on your worst days and kisses your forehead like it’s sacred. The man who would have done anything for you. Who uses protection, because he does not want you to deal with anything, you both may or may not be ready for.

But this?

This is your fault.

And you have to tell him.

He's in the kitchen when you walk out. The morning sun filters through the window, casting a soft glow over his messy hair and tired smile. He turns to you, apron tied haphazardly over his sweatpants, flipping pancakes.

“Morning, sweetheart. Feeling any better?” His voice is laced with worry. Ever since the sickness started, Steve has been constantly worried about you.

You don't answer right away. You just watch him, memorizing the way he looks at you like you’re his world.

Your chest tightens. This might be the last time, so with a deep breath you decide to tell him, “I need to talk to you...” you say quietly.

He sets the spatula down, turning to face you fully. “What’s wrong?”

You hold the test in your hand, but your fingers refuse to let it go. “I’m… pregnant…”

His eyes widen, just slightly. He doesn’t speak. He waits, the way he always does, patient, calm, steady.

And it shatters you.

“It’s not yours…” you whisper. “It… it was a mistake. A stupid, selfish, one-time mistake before us. I thought it was over. I didn’t even think about it again until now. But, this happened. And I didn’t want to lie to you...and I can understand if you want to end things…I…I promise I won’t blame you…”

He says nothing for a beat. You wait for the sharp breath. The anger. The betrayal. Waiting for him to say “pack your bags and get the hell lost!”

But none of that comes.

Instead, Steve steps forward, gently takes the test from your hand, and sets it on the counter. He cups your cheek like you're made of glass.

“Hey,” he says softly, “Thank you for telling me…”

You blink, tears stinging, “Aren’t you mad?”

He smiles sadly, but full of love, “Yeah. A little. But more than that… I’m scared that you’re scared. And I’m not going to leave you to do this alone.”

“You shouldn’t have to stay.”

“I want to stay.”

He wraps his arms around you like an anchor, grounding you. Your body shakes with silent sobs, pressed against his chest.

You don’t deserve this. But he’s here. Still here.

And when he pulls away just enough to rest his hand on your stomach, his eyes glisten.

“We’ll get through this. Together.”

You never meant for it to be this complicated.

You never meant to sleep with Clark Kent again, not after he broke your heart for her. Not after all those tear-stained nights and the way your chest ached every time you saw him and Lois in a photo, smiling like they hadn’t left wreckage behind.

But one night, grief blurred the lines. One night, he showed up at your door with an apology and a broken look. One night, you let yourself believe he meant it.

And then, nothing. Silence. No follow-up. Just another goodbye, without any words.

You had no idea that night would leave you with something that would change the course of your life.

And now, Steve holds your hand with gentle strength as you whisper the truth.

“It’s… Clark’s.”

His thumb stills its rhythmic stroke on your knuckles. His jaw tightens, just slightly. But he doesn’t let go.

He never does.

“That was before us,” he says quietly, as if reminding himself too. “You didn’t cheat on me. And he left you. That’s not your fault.”

You stare down at the floor, words tangling in your throat. “I didn’t want to ruin what we have. I thought I’d never see Clark again. He made it clear that Lois was his future...”

Steve nods slowly, “You still should tell him.”

“I could try…but…” you admit, biting your lip. “he’s… blocked me. Everywhere. I guess he thought I might get in the way of their perfect life.”

There’s a flash of something in Steve’s eyes, anger, towards Superman. But it’s quickly swallowed by calm resolve.

“I’ll find him…” he says.

You blink, startled. “Steve…you don’t…”

“I don’t care if I have to fly across the damn globe. He should know. But more importantly…” he pauses, cupping your cheek, “you deserve peace.”

You nod, swallowing back tears. “What if he doesn’t want the baby?”

He holds your gaze. “Then he’s a fool. But either way, I do want the baby. And I want you.”

The tears come freely now. You fall into his arms, and for the first time since the test turned positive, you feel like maybe… just maybe… this won’t break you.

Truth to be told, Steve with the help from Tony, did contact Clark, but Clark dismissed him, telling him to do whatever he wishes to do, cause you are no longer his problem.

That was the last, Steve ever talked about him.

Then came the first ultrasound.

The examination room is quiet except for the steady hum of the machine and the soft static that preludes something life-changing.

You lie on the table, gown draped over your belly, Steve seated beside you, your fingers intertwined so tightly they’ve gone numb.

The technician smiles at you both, friendly and warm. “You two ready to see your little one?”

Steve squeezes your hand. “We’re ready.”

The gel is cold. You flinch. The wand glides across your skin, and you hold your breath. And then a sound is heard.

Rhythmic. Soft. Then louder.

Your breath catches. Steve’s hand tightens around yours.

“There’s the heartbeat,” the technician beams. “Strong and steady.”

You blink hard, trying not to cry. But Steve’s thumb brushes the tears off your cheek anyway.

The monitor displays a tiny blob, your baby. Clark’s baby. But it doesn’t feel like his right now. It feels like yours. Like Steve’s, even. Because he’s here. Because he cares. Because he’s already giving more than the biological father ever did.

The tech continues. “Looks like you’re around ten weeks. Everything’s measuring just right. Dad, want to see?”

You glance at Steve instinctively.

He leans forward, eyes glued to the screen, voice rough. “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

He doesn’t correct them.

He doesn’t say, I’m not the father.

Instead, he asks, “Can we get a picture of the heartbeat?”

The technician prints it out without question.

You don’t speak until you’re back in the car, the ultrasound photo trembling in your hands, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

Steve starts the engine but doesn’t pull away, “Because I am the one who’s here. I’m the one who’s going to help you through every kick and craving and sleepless night. And when that baby comes into the world, I’m going to be the one holding them, whispering that it’s going to be okay.”

You look at him, this man who chose to stay, who chose you, who is choosing this baby even though he doesn’t have to.

Your voice is a whisper, “You don’t have to do this...”

“I want to,” he says with a smile, “Let me love both of you.”

You cry harder than you have since that first test.

And in your heart, you already know, this child may not be Steve’s by blood, but they will be his in every way that matters.

The bump starts to show around week sixteen. It’s small at first. A soft curve beneath your sweaters. But Steve notices immediately.

He stares at it sometimes when you’re asleep, his palm hovering just above like he’s afraid to wake the baby or you. He whispers to your belly when you’re not listening, voice full of wonder and low chuckles. You once caught him doing it and he flushed tomato-red.

“She kicked when I said her name,” he murmured like it was classified intel. “I think she likes me.”

You laugh. “That’s because she does…”

Your hormones are a menace. You cry over everything. A broken shoelace. A commercial with a puppy. One time Steve came home with the wrong kind of ice cream and you wept like he’d murdered someone. He apologized for an hour and drove twenty-five minutes back to get the right one.

You called yourself insane.

He only kissed your forehead. “You’re growing a human, sweetheart. You can set the apartment on fire and I’ll still think you’re amazing.”

You reply through sniffles, “I was actually considering arson, so thank you…”

You craved pineapple, pickles, peanut butter, and pepperoni all at once. Steve doesn’t flinch. He goes to four stores to find the right brand of pickles at 11 PM on a Tuesday.

Once, you cried when he brought you a warm grilled cheese just the way you liked it, cut diagonally, not horizontally and whispered, “You remembered.”

He blushed. “Course I did, doll. That’s my job now.”

“You’re too good.”

“Nah,” he smiled. “Just madly in love with you and slightly terrified of you.”

You laughed and cried at the same time.

The baby shower was a literal war for Steve.

Tony insists on throwing you a baby shower, and Steve agrees reluctantly. You have a vision board, a color theme, and approximately seventeen pages of Pinterest inspiration.

Steve has a nervous breakdown over centerpieces.

“I don’t know what the hell a ‘woodland chic’ aesthetic is…” he panics to Natasha on the phone. “Are mushrooms cute now? Why are we decorating with moss?!”

Natasha shows up just to babysit him.

Despite the chaos, it turns out beautifully. You cry again when Steve gives a heartfelt toast about how this baby might not be his by blood, but they're his in every way that matters. He thanks everyone for accepting your baby and him with open arms.

Even Bucky’s tearing up.

He later tells Steve, “You sap.” But he claps him on the back and adds, “You’re gonna be a damn good dad.”

The night your water broke, it happens at 3:47 AM.

You jolt upright in bed, gasping, “Steve!!!”

“Mmh?” he groans, groggy and tangled in blankets.

“My water just broke...”

He sits up like he’s been shot, “WHAT?! Okay…okay! Grab the bag, wait, I grab the bag! Do we have socks? You need socks. Is it too late for socks?! Okay…okay”

You groan in pain. “Steve, if you don’t get me to the hospital right now, I swear I will light this whole damn apartment on fire and use Clark’s ashes as fuel! And stop saying OKAY!!!”

He scrambles like his life depends on it. “Socks later, fire now, got it! Okay!”

He helps you into the car, holding your hand the entire time, whispering sweet nothings, “You’re doing amazing, doll.” “You can crush my hand if you need to. I don’t even need fingers.” “You definitely don’t look like a demon right now. No, you’re glowing. Glowing with… strength.”

You glare at him mid-contraction. “I want to kill Clark.”

Steve kisses your knuckles. “I support you. Just maybe after we get the baby out?”

At the hospital, he never lets go of your hand, not once. Not when you scream. Not when you curse. Not when you cry, beg for it to be over, or threaten violence on multiple innocent bystanders.

When your baby finally arrives, red-faced, crying, tiny fists curled against their chest, Steve is the one who cuts the cord.

The nurse turns to him with a bright smile. “Congratulations, Dad.”

And again, he doesn’t correct her.

He holds your baby like they’re the most sacred thing he’s ever touched. And when he finally places them into your arms, his eyes are full of unshed tears.

“You did so good, doll. Look at our little miracle.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, baby curled against your chest, and whisper, “Thank you for staying.”

He kisses your temple, voice thick. “I didn’t stay. I chose this. I chose you. And I’ll keep choosing you both, every day.”

You wait until everyone’s gathered in the hospital room.

Natasha bouncing on the balls of her feet, Pepper filming with teary eyes, Sam cracking jokes, and Bucky in the corner pretending not to care, but clearly wiping at his eyes every five seconds.

Steve stands beside you, cradling the baby, a sleepy grin tugging at his lips. Your head rests against his bicep, exhaustion still clinging to your bones, but you feel lighter than you’ve felt in months.

“Have you decided on a name yet?” Pepper asks, camera zoomed in.

You exchange a glance with Steve. He nods, a silent encouragement.

You turn to everyone, voice soft but steady. “We wanted to wait until he was born to be sure. But now that he’s here, it just… fits.”

Everyone leans in.

“His name is Jamie Steven Rogers.”

The room goes still.

Bucky blinks. “I…what?”

Steve's eyes widen, completely stunned, he knew you wanted to name the child after Bucky, but adding his name that was a surprise for him.

“You named him after me?” Bucky croaks, looking at you like you just threw a brick at his heart in the best way possible.

You laugh, a little breathless. “You’ve always had my back. You’ve been my brother before I even knew I needed one. You’re going to be the best uncle. And Steve… well.” You look at the man holding your son. “He’s already the best dad.”

Bucky exhales hard and runs a hand through his hair.

“Damn it,” he mutters. “I was supposed to be the emotionally unavailable, grumpy uncle who makes inappropriate jokes and teaches the kid to swear. Now I’m crying like a Disney princess.”

You smirk. “You can still be the grumpy uncle. Just a very loved one.”

He groans but pulls you into a hug anyway. “I swear, if this baby’s first word is ‘punk’ it’s going on the birth certificate.”

Everyone laughs, the tension melting into joy.

Later that night, the room has long since quieted. Visitors have gone home. Nurses come and go softly, but it’s just you and Steve now. Jamie sleeps peacefully between the two of you, a little burrito of blankets and soft snores.

Steve brushes a finger down Jamie’s chubby cheek. “He’s perfect.”

“You are…” you say, eyes fixed on him. “You didn’t have to do this. But you chose it all. You chose us.”

He looks at you like he’s still trying to believe this is real. “I’ll never stop choosing you.”

You lean over and kiss him soft, slow, grateful. His hand cups your jaw, deepening it just enough to make your heart thrum all over again.

“Thank you, Steve,” you whisper.

“For what?”

“For loving a baby that wasn’t yours. For making him yours. For being ours.”

He only smiles, kissing your forehead. “There was never a choice for me. You’re my whole world.”

As you fall asleep, Steve promises to protect you and his baby. Because you don’t know about the storm taking place and Steve will make sure you don’t get to know about it.

Earlier with Bucky, he had a private conversation.

Hours ago, while you were asleep and Steve had stepped out for a coffee run, Bucky cornered him just outside the nursery window.

“Hey,” Bucky said, voice lower than usual. “We’ve got a problem.”

Steve stiffened. “What kind of problem?”

“Clark.” Bucky glanced over his shoulder, then back at Steve. “I’ve seen him hanging around. Not close enough to make a scene, but… he’s lurking. Watching.”

Steve’s jaw tightened, the shadows under his eyes sharpening. “He’s not setting one foot near her. Or my baby.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

“If he even looks at them…” Steve’s voice dropped to a dangerous growl, “I’ll end him.”

“I’m in,” Bucky said without missing a beat. “We’ll make it look like an accident.”

Steve smirked, dark and knowing. “Appreciate it.”

Bucky’s tone sobered. “Just… keep her safe. Keep Jamie safe.”

Steve nodded. “With my life.”

They didn’t tell you. Not that night. Not then. Because that moment belonged to peace.

Back in the Room

Jamie stirs slightly in his bassinet. You and Steve both move at the same time, instinctively in sync, soothing him with whispered hushes and gentle touches.

You rest your head against Steve’s shoulder again, feeling his warmth, his steady breath, the beating of his heart.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you…” you whisper.

He kisses the top of your head. “Whatever it was, I’m glad you did it.”

The room goes quiet again.

You both fall asleep like that, your hand on Jamie’s back, Steve’s arm around you, wrapped up in a family that wasn’t planned but was meant to be.

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@pattiemac1 @peaches1958 @hzdhrtss @kpopgirlbtssvt

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 14

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, emotional stuff and vulnerability, fluff, angst, typos for sure, inaccurate navy stuff

Words: 2547

The One I Want Masterlist

You’re lying on the bed, facing away from the door when Jake returns to the room. He says nothing as he slips under the covers and wraps his arm around your waist, scooting himself close so your back is to his chest. He’s gentle—cautious in his movements—and you know he thinks you’re still asleep.

His hand slides over the curve of your stomach and under your t-shirt, caressing soft skin as if intending to savor the feel of you, to burn into his mind what it’s like to have you in his arms. You do the same. You want to remember being completely engulfed by him. 

He kisses your bare shoulder. 

“Did Millie leave?” you ask.

Jake's body stiffens behind you like the life has been sucked out of him. The expanding of his chest from his inhales and exhales has paused. His fingers don’t so much as twitch against your stomach. 

He lightly clears his throat and his breath flutters the wispy hairs by your ear. “Did…did you hear us?”

“A little,” you admit, but not prepared to delve into the core of what you’d heard, you ask a safer question. “How is she this morning?”

“She’s ok.”

Jake removes his hand from your shirt to tuck those wayward hairs behind your ear, then he trails his hand back down your body. The brush of his fingertips from your neck to your shoulder and arm sprouts gooseflesh that he smoothes in some special spots by rubbing his thumb in small circles. 

Pulling you as close as your bodies will allow, Jake continues. “I asked her over to talk while Rooster went to get something for her on base. He just picked her back up.”

“Base? What would he have for her there?” Another safe question. You like the safe questions much more than the ones awaiting you.

Jake’s chuckle is mostly a puff of air through his nose. “There’s been a ring in his locker for a month,” he tells you. “He’s marrying her. Assuming she says yes, that is.”

You almost snort. Millie will say yes before Rooster has the entire ask out of his mouth. Carried by the ocean, her squeal will echo across every inch of the town, and you can imagine the entire event as if right by their side. 

She will throw herself into his arms, which will knock him onto his back. He will chuckle as he ignores the ache that the fall inflicts on his joints because holding her is more important. She will kiss him. He won’t let her stop. The ring will be neglected for many hours, but eventually, it will make its way onto her finger. And that is exactly what you want for the couple who proved to you a love so powerful and fulfilling exists.

“She will,” you say.

“Yea…” Jake agrees, “She will.”

The corners of your lips tick upward in a hint of a smile, but after a handful of seconds, the smile falls. Not because of Millie and Rooster—that can be said with every ounce of honesty in your heart. But in your attempt to continue appreciating your friends’ future happiness, you find a sudden overwhelming selfishness. You become incapable of dedicating your thoughts to anything other than the fact that what you feel right now—this moment where every bit of Jake’s body and presence and soul encompasses you—is about to be ripped right out of your hands. 

You don’t want to be a brat. You don’t want to cross your arms, stick up your nose, and stomp your foot in defiance like a child. But, fuck, you just got him. You just got him and it’s not fair. Nothing about Jake leaving speaks to the promise of any higher power’s ability to balance out the pain you’ve experienced with the pleasure and joy that has found you over the past few months. You are about to stop receiving what you’ve come to accept you deserve after the hell that was your life before Jake and the world he introduced. 

Had what you heard been said differently, you might not feel this strongly about him leaving. Were Jake and Millie’s words lighter, you might be able to believe that this separation will not last, that Jake will come home, and what is happening between you and him will simply pause for a couple of months before it resumes. But their tone suggested an unbearable alternative. 

You flip over so you can look him in the eyes and instantly see that he’s feeling what you feel. You don’t have to tiptoe around the deployment now. He knows you heard enough. 

“Will you tell me about it?” you ask.

“What do you want to know?”

Everything, you don’t say. Every detail, every move, every risk, every likelihood, every expectation you’re allowed to have. You want to know where he will be and when; when he will go and return. You think the more you know, the less you will worry. But Jake can’t give you that much. So you don’t ask for it.

Instead, you say, “Are you scared?” because maybe if he’s not scared, then you shouldn’t be, either.

“You know me, beautiful. I'm the best,” he says, but you can hear the uncertainty that weakens his voice. He doesn’t answer your question like you want him to. “But it's…different. We've been training hard for months. They've done everything they can to prepare us.”

“Is it enough?”

“It’s as much as they could do.”

You blink away the threat of tears and sniff away the tingling in your nose, but it’s hard to do as you try to accept that information. As much as they could do is not enough for you. 

“You’re not good at being reassuring,” you inform him.

Jake sighs into a sad smile. His eyes briefly drift, but when he locks your gazes again, a rich, thick vulnerability fills the space between you. “In this case, I don’t know how,” he says. “I’ve never had to explain this to someone I care about the way I care about you.”

You pause mid-breath and there’s a swelling to your throat that seems to squeeze the rest of that breath right out of you. Once again, you’re selfish, not considering what all of this means for Jake. He’s the one leaving his home, risking his life, and with everything you’ve gathered from Millie’s words and his own, nothing about this will be simple or can compare to what they’ve faced in quite some time. 

“It’s…different,” he told you; “...especially this time,” Millie had said.

This deployment—this mission—will be no in-and-out quick trip, no there-and-back, no ‘I’ll be home for dinner, honey’ for the Daggers. ‘The best of the best’ might not hold as much weight this time, and quelling your worries should not be occupying space on Jake’s plate.

“Normally, I only have to think about myself and my team,” he continues, falling onto his back and layering his hands over his abdomen to stare at the ceiling. “Now I think about you. I’m doing the last thing I wanted to do—leaving you here—and yet, when I go, you’re still coming with me. You’re going to be on that ship, in my bunk, in my jet…” 

Lifting onto your forearms, you inch closer until your face is surely within his peripherals. His eyes meet yours and one of those layered hands reaches to cup your cheek. Fingers slide through your hair to the ends of the strands and he gathers a few between his thumb and index finger. They carefully twist the section of hair back and forth, then he curls it around his finger. Another part of you he’s hoping to permanently remember.

“You’ll be all around me at all times, beautiful,” he says. “And that, I’m unprepared for.” 

While sweet in delivery, you realize what he’s telling you are words not coming from a man happy to have someone in his heart, but from a man tormented. It’s why his smile isn’t full and his eyes contain only a fraction of their common light. Jake is a man unable to reassure you of anything because with you came change, and change is a wrench in what is otherwise a consistently stable practice in his life and career.

“Unprepared for…” leaves your mouth slowly as you finish processing what that really means. “As in, I’ll be a distraction.”

His hand drops, back to layering over the other. His stare returns to the ceiling. “I’m good at my job.”

“I know that, but are you going to be able to focus if I am in your head all the time?” When he doesn’t answer, you feel your nerves start to wiggle under your skin, blood rushing at an unnatural pace. “Don’t think about me when you’re there.”

His soft smile does nothing but throw the rest of your body into panic. “I like thinking about you.”

“I don’t care if you like thinking about me. I care about you coming home.”

Pushing the covers off your body, you stand, evading Jake’s effort to pull you back to his side. You bite down on your nail hard enough for it to give way under the pressure. 

He’s sitting up, feet to the ground when you turn to face him, and you take a few steps from the bed, hoping he won’t follow so the fear that pulses around you doesn’t infect him.

“Beautiful…” he sighs with an energy that irritates you. While tinted with melancholy, it’s too calm and gentle and plush, like he has all the time in the world to lay back and ponder the future when that could very well be untrue. 

You rip your nail from the trap of your teeth. “Do not think about me if you can’t do what you need to do at the same time.”

“I can guarantee you’ll be in my head no matter what, so if we’re making demands, that one’s off the table.”  

“It shouldn’t be if it means you’ll spend all of your time worrying about me!” you shout. “Tell me that’s not going to happen!” 

Jake gives you a long look. Then his head falls forward and he runs his hand down his face. “I’m doing my best to keep my head where it needs to be.”

“And you’re failing?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he tells you, meeting your gaze. “It’ll be ok.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Jake stands then, sharp in the movement, and you take another step back. “What do you want me to do, beautiful?” he just short of snaps. His hand presses into his chest. “I have to leave you behind for months. I’m leaving you to loneliness and a silent apartment, to Brit, for fuck’s sake. I’m leaving you and I’m terrified that as time goes on you’ll start to question things. Like whether or not you’re a burden or a waste of space. Like whether or not you’re loved. And–”

“You’re afraid I won't be here when you come back.”

His shoulders release their tension. “Can you blame me?” 

No, you think; you can’t. It has not been long enough to lock that security into place, and it wouldn’t be right to shame him for lacking full confidence. You know Jake has faith in you. You know it’s not your ability to wait for him he questions, but instead, how healed you are to not be influenced to disappear from his life if he’s not there to remind you why you matter. 

While you’ve done your best to prove your commitment, your best is also new for you. Only recently have you been able to promise yourself that you’re making the right decisions for your happiness, and that one of those decisions is Jake. To expect him to be further along than you is unfair. He may be your hero, but he’s not invincible. He’s not immune to his thoughts running away with him any more than you once were. So no, you can’t blame him. Not for this. 

You close the distance between you, grabbing his hands with yours to weave fingers. “Jake, I can’t be the thing that takes up so much of your mental energy you have none left to protect yourself. If something happens to you…” You shake your head, not willing to finish the thought. “Use me in a different way. Instead of worrying, turn me into the reason you come home because of everything we can have when this is over.”

He takes a moment to let the suggestion sink in, and you let him, because you need him to understand the depth of what you are offering. Not only are you swearing to stay, but you’re beginning to paint the picture of the future he has been unsure exists. It’s the future you want, but he must meet you halfway. You’ll be here for him as long as he does everything within his power to return home for you. 

“I'm going to be here, Jake,” you say, unweaving fingers to wrap your arms around his neck. “So please don't let something like that distract you. Keep your focus on what you have to do and then come back to me.”

—

Three weeks pass in a flash. Three weeks full of sex and kisses and laughter and a million conversations about everything you plan to do when you’re together again. You don’t entertain other possibilities. 

Neither do you see your friends. Millie called to shriek over the new ring on her finger, but that was it. Each pilot has people of their own to share their time with, so they don’t waste a second of it. They hold on to every precious moment down to the last kiss and hug and touch of hands before time is up and they have to walk away to board a ship. 

Though she tries not to, Millie cries new tears to replace the ones Rooster kissed away. You keep yours locked inside so Jake doesn’t worry as he kisses you goodbye. The two join the rest of their team, glancing over their shoulders multiple times to get final looks at you and Millie before they’re gone. 

Your friend doesn’t watch them leave. She can’t is what she tells you. It’s too hard for her to see them disappear. But she waits for you in Rooster’s truck as you stay behind a little longer. 

Even though Jake is not within sight, you know he’s there, and so you keep your eyes on the ship while it begins to depart. Your gaze is unwavering until your phone begins to ring in your pocket. 

Your brow furrows in confusion. With the exception of one, everyone you know is on that ship and you’re sure they aren’t allowed to have phones, but you answer without a second thought. 

“Jake?”

“I love you,” he says. “It’s important to me that you know that.”

You can’t breathe. Your eyes dart back to the ship, expecting to see him, but it’s too far gone and you can only make out silhouettes. “Jake–”

“I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”

And then he hangs up. 

You dial back but it goes to voicemail. As do your next five attempts.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @alwaysclassyeagle

[daenysx]

Could i request modern!aemond conforting his wife who just had the baby and is super tired and him taking care of the baby at dawn and making her sleep🥺

i wrote the tiniest piece for this for the sad girl sleepover, here's a little longer version. i hope you enjoy <3

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

aemond's arm is carefully wrapped around you. for the past weeks it was difficult to sleep together, ever since you had your baby. now, it's slightly easier, and he's always cautious to not hurt you.

your muscles gave up completely after you nursed baby alyssa at night. she seemed peaceful enough when aemond put her on her tiny bed, it stays next to yours. you know aemond always wakes up to check on her, that makes your sleep better. you put your head on his shoulder in a weird angle but it's enough to feel him.

when the sun blinks its first light into the room, aemond stirs. he's used to waking up the moment he opens his eye, he doesn't bother to try sleeping again. like a shadow in your arms, he moves quietly, not letting you realize he's leaving the bed.

the first thing to do is looking at the cradle. alyssa's still sleeping, that gives him time to go to bathroom and maybe make some coffee. he stares at her for a few seconds. being a father is a tricky thing. he thinks he can burn down the entire world just to keep her warm. he can be a fucking poet if that's what it takes. anything to keep the heavy emotions out of his chest.

he walks to the kitchen after bathroom, the morning chill is cool against his bare chest. he makes a cup of coffee silently, opens the giant window of living room to get some air inside.

"aemond?" a sleepy voice calls for him. you walk to the window, he's already wrapping an arm around you. "why did you wake up so early? she's still sleeping."

he answers with a kiss on your forehead. "it's okay." he says. "how are you feeling?"

"i'm fine." you say. "sleepy."

aemond holds you in his arms for a selfish minute. your sleepy head drops on his shoulder, his hand goes to your head to stroke your hair. "go back to sleep. i can take care of her if she wakes up." he says, giving you a convincing kiss on your forehead.

"but you need to wake me up if she's hungry."

"i will." aemond promises. he almost carries you to warm bed, rubbing your back to help you fall asleep again.

when you're finally sound asleep, he sits on the edge of the bed. from this angle he can see alyssa, her pretty face and tiny fists. she's a perfect baby, and he's not saying that just because she's his. he is getting wrapped around her finger pretty fast, faster than he thinks.

she's a peaceful baby, content to be in her bed. when she blinks her giant baby eyes open, aemond gives her an easy smile. she holds onto his pinky, moving her tiny arm as sleep starts leaving her. it's always funny to watch a baby trying to stretch, and she's just so little, not even a month old. she doesn't know what to do with her body. aemond holds her hand, lets her stay in bed a little longer.

"morning, beautiful." he says. the smile becomes permanent on his lips.

alyssa tries to lift her arms. her fingers move, she wants to be lifted. aemond takes her in his arms carefully, minding her head just how his mother showed him. she's so warm, he walks around the house a little bit to distract her.

she's not hungry yet, he thinks, only a bit restless when she just woke up. you can sleep a little longer, aemond will keep her occupied with words she doesn't understand. the tone of his voice helps, though. alyssa stays tucked on her father's chest.

their final stop is the bed you sleep in. aemond lays next to you with his baby on his chest, moving slowly to let you keep resting. "we gotta be quiet." he whispers to alyssa as if she knows what he's talking about. "we'll let mommy sleep, okay? okay, pretty girl."

they spend the early morning like this. alyssa seems happy to be on his chest, he's more than happy to keep her there. you blink your eyes open to both of them watching you. it's a nice sight to wake up. aemond supports your back as you try to sit up to greet your baby.

[kittykattropicanna]

So she’s marrying mechanic!Simon right? Like full on, he’s grabbing the guys and his best girl for a quick ceremony, let’s just do this, married?

I neeeed it 😮‍💨. The wedding night. The possessiveness 🤌🏾.

HusbandMechanic!Simon fucking you for the first time as a married couple????? Absolutely, I got you &lt;3

Mechanic!Simon definitely proposes early on during your relationship and you definitely get married quickly, but I do feel like you get to see a more passionate side to him on your wedding night, like, his still definitely going to fuck you like an animal and be a complete perv now that you're married but......whats he like when is in a more passionate mood...?

TW: we've got some pervy!Simon, possessive!Simon, marriage, dirty talk, nasty smut and some passionate smut

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

The thing about Si is that he knows you’re way too good for him. He knows that in any other circumstance he would never be the man you look at, be the man you actively seek out at a club or bar. 

His handsome, no doubt about it, but his just a very intimidating guy, his eyes cut right through you and paired with how big he is, the average person is not approaching him out in public and starting a conversation. 

And a girl like you? You’re just perfect, quite literally the embodiment of everything he has ever wanted or needed in a women. Its just really hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that you chose him with all intentions to stay :(

I think that’s were a big part of his possessiveness comes from, not all of it, but a majority for sure. 

And he knows his a perv :( 

He knows that maybe his a bit to much, visibly getting a hard on that pokes through his grey sweatpants as he watches you do the dishes or bending you over the washing machine and fucking you dumb when you're just trying to wash his work uniform. :(((

Every time he has his way with you it puts him on cloud nine. He lives for making you cum :(((( He lives to serve you :(

He definitely preposes very early on into your “relationship”. I don’t think you guys ever sat down and had the formal “we’re a couple” conversation, you were very much his the moment you wore his company jacket the night you met.

There was no slow burn. No lets go on a date and get to know each other a little more. You moved into his sketchy one bedroom apartment the night you guys met, you slept in his bed from the very start, he kissed you before he went to work the next morning then came home on his lunch break just to eat your pussy because he “forgot his lunch” :(((((

His so dirty >:( arms covered in grease and oil, hands dirty as he places you on the dining room table, kneeling down and throwing your legs over his big, wide shoulders!!!!

 Pushing up the shirt he leant you to reveal your wet cunt begging for his attention :(((

“Come on baby, there ya’ go, spread those legs my sweet, sweet girl, let me eat ya’ pussy” Si groans at the sight of you like this, his perfect girl all wet and ready for him :((( wet and ready to get her pussy eaten by a dirty man covered in car grease >:(

He smells so musky, so sweaty. You can see the streaks of sweat that had ran down his chest and dried, leaving a patten through the dirt across his exposed skin. The low v line of his work shirt making all to visible for you :3

You’re rubbing your thighs together just from the sight, ready to be fucked by his mouth before he even touches you :(((

Si dives in, eating your cunt like a starved man :(((( moaning and groaning as he laps up the wetness that’s seeping out of your hole, sucking on your clit as you try and close your thighs from the overstimulation only for him to grab them and put you into a mating press, giving your pussy slaps as your slick runs down his chin, chastising you for disrupting his meal :(((( his so mean!!!

“Darlin’, I’m gonna eat ya’ for as long as I want, look at ya’, stop bein’ such a selfish, selfish girl” 

Him tongue fucking you as you squirm and moan :((( his so proud of you when you listen to his countdown and cum on command >:(

“Alright baby, imma count down from three and ya gonna cum on my face when I tell you to, okay??” 

Si praising you through your orgasm :)))))

“S’ alright, there ya go, ride it out, grind on my face n’ ride it out baby, you did such a good job for me pretty girl, look at ya’ look at my perfect girl”

If he wasn’t sure he was going to marry you before, he knew he was going to marry you now ;) 

But lets talk about the engagement…..:3

Now, Simon isn’t a rich man, his an extremely good mechanic and an even better conman, but his not rich. His lucky enough to make a little over the average wage for someone in his line of work, but his not going to restaurants whenever he pleases, dropping money on whatever he wants, ect, ect, ect 

He absolutely goes to a pawn shop and buys your engagement ring, he pulls Johnny along with him stupidly thinking he would help………he didn’t

“Mate, yer dinnae even know th’ lass, ye canny jus’ run off n’ marry her”

“Fuck off MacTavish, are ya’ coming or not?” 

There’s a common headcannon that Simon would propose with his mothers ring, I think that’s really cute but I don’t think Si would do that in this AU. Simon wants to propose with a ring he brought with his love, not a ring his father brought with the love he supposedly had for his mother. 

Every time he looks at your hand he wants to be reminded of his love for you, not the love his father had for his mum

He went in with a budget but blew it immediately :3 

How could he not? His beautiful baby deserves the best of the best and none of the other rings screamed at him the way the more expensive one did. 

It was feminine and gorgeous, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was so beautiful he wondered how a ring like that ended up in a place like this…….

It was just so you, he was getting that one. He didn’t give a fuck that he went over. He knew you would love it, the money didn’t matter, he’ll just pick up some extra shifts and work overtime ;)

He proposes the night he brought the ring. He wanted to do the whole rose petals leading you to the bedroom, candles on the nightstand, “will you marry me” balloons covering the bedroom floor thing but after he had you reverse cowgirl, big calloused hands around your waist as he slammed you onto his dick, so many orgasms in that he was shooting blanks and unable to hide his strained moans, he had no choice but to propose to you that night :(

After bathing in the afterglow, you laying on his chest with a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies, he gets up and rummages through his discarded clothes all over the floor finding the little square box he brought only hours before. 

Laying back against the headboard he opens the box and looks at you with the softest smile on his face 

“Just marry me darlin’, I promise to love ya forever n’ all that. Protect ya’ treat ya’ real nice, just let me love ya baby, come on”

His never been the most prim and proper man, but how could you say no to him? His voice was no louder then a soft whisper and you swore his eyes had a sparkle in them, lips tilted up in a slight smirk…..

That weekend you got married at the courthouse. Johnny was his best man, Price walked you down the aisle and Gaz was the witness. 

You wore a second hand wedding dress you found at the thrift store the night before, DIY-ing your hair and makeup. 

It wasn’t the most extravagant wedding of all time, but to Simon, the entire day was perfect.

And when he put that wedding ring on your finger? It was game over, he did it, you were, by some grace of god, officially his, and that made him absolutely feral. 

Everyone definitely went to the local dive bar to celebrate, Si being a regular, the owner was more then happy to move some tables around and create a little dace floor for your first dance :((((

Your wedding song was absolutely Stand By Me by Ben E King, IDC!!!! 

That’s literally all he asks from you, to be by his side, love him a little…..

Your head on his chest as you sway back and forth, it didn’t matter if a bunch of strangers and old drunks sat in the back watching, he was happy, he was dancing with his wife and he was happy ;)

His possessiveness somehow ramps up even more after you're married, especially while his fucking you :((((

As his driving back home from the bar, your hands slides down his slacks undoing the zipper. You gently start to pump his semi hard cock but he stops you….

“Nah, left hand lovie, wanna see ya’ wedding ring while ya’ stroke me” he’d mumble, grunting a little at the feeling of your cold gold band slide over his shaft :((

His new obsession is your left hand!!! When you got home all he wanted to do was fuck your pussy senseless but he controlled himself, making you lean up against the headboard and play with your cunt. :((((

Watching your rings slide in between your folds, around your clit and into your pussy as you moan his name and fail to keep eye contact with him :( you’re trying so hard but it just feels so good!! You’ve been waiting for hours!! Its not your fault you cant control yourself >:(

“Aye, don’t take ya’ eyes off me sweetheart, look at me, that’s a good girl” while he slowly stokes his cock, pre cum leaking from his tip >>:(

“Now tell me baby, who’s pussy is it, who owns your fuckin’ pussy princess?” He’d grunt while slowly walking closer to you, heavy cock still in his hands :( 

When he finally gets to you, he wants to savour the moment so baddddd :((( just giving you the tip then pulling out, watching your pussy clench around nothing >:( 

Sliding his cock between your folds, slapping your cunt with his hard dick :(

Doing everything but fucking you as he watches you squirm and beg for his cock, being the good obedient wife you are :)

He knows the second he pushes into you his not gonna be able to control himself for very long, his not trying to be mean!!! He just wants to remember the first time he fucked his wife

Not girlfriend or fiancée. no, his wife 

After teasing you for way longer then necessary he finally pushes in :3

His thrusts as slow and controlled but so deep and heavy, Si normally ruts into you like an animal but to night felt different :(

He didn’t try and hide his moans or make you cum as fast as humanly possible, he was taking his time with you :((( 

Big heavy balls slapping against your arse as he holds your left hand in his, wedding bands touching as each thrust somehow hits deeper, stretching your walls with a slight burn:))

Si’s pants were heavy as each thrust brought him closer to his release. He was trying so hard not to cum right then and there but the feeling of your nails scratching up his back, legs wrapped around his torso and hearing you moan his name was driving him wild >:(

“Fuckin’ hell baby, look at my gorgeous fuckin’ wife” he’d mumble into your lips between sloppy kisses, saliva connecting your lips as his voice started to get a little more strained :(

“Who ya married to darlin’ tell me who ya married too” his breaths are laboured and desperate as he reached down to rub your puffy, needy clit :((

His so in love with you, so obsessed and needy for you :3

You’d never seen him like this, completely pussy drunk and obsessed :(

He lets you cum before he finishes, shooting his hot load into your abused cunt, bloating your stomach :(((

 Letting out quite “fuck”’s between each lazy thrust before pulling out and watching his cum seep out of your cunt onto the bed sheets. 

Fuck his so lucky to have you :(( 

I'll be real with everyone, 99% of the time Mechanic!Simon is not this soft with you, he was just in his feels that night y'all!!!!

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU.

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Basic blog housekeeping -  fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

[girl4music]

“But I can tell you this, Xena… you’re the only constant in my life, and unless you know something I don’t, I’m not going anywhere. So I’m going to say the most selfish thing I’ve ever said to you: that baby’s my baby too, and I deserve a chance to fight for it as much as you.”

- Gabrielle, ‘Them Bones, Them Bones’ (Original script dialogue.)

They knew what they were doing with this scene. Especially the way Xena AND Gabrielle’s heads turn back to the baby at exactly the same time as if they were both proud of making that little bundle of joy between their arms. Also notice how Gabrielle only steps away after a glance towards Xena and Eve, clearly assessing that they both need to be alone while she responds to Hercules' request. As if to say "You stay here, I'll take care of business."

Dialogue is rarely ever needed between these two because the body language communicates so much in small intimate scenes like this. Both the mark of great acting and great chemistry between the actresses. I've always said that it's the quiet moments that truly reveal the depth of the loving relationship between Xena and Gabrielle. Whether you see it in a romantic way or not, you cannot deny that it is not filled with unconditional love. Especially where Gabrielle is concerned.

In fact...

I'm reminded of what Ares says in the ice cave in confession to what he believes to be a dead Xena about the dichotomy between his love for Xena and Gabrielle's love for Xena.

"You're with her now. I handled you all wrong. I know that. She knew what you needed - unconditional and unselfish love - and I couldn't give that to you. But I appreciated you in ways she never could. Your rage, your violence, your beauty. When you sacrificed yourself for others, you were hers. But when you kicked ass, you were mine. I love you, Xena."

- Ares, ‘Looking Death In The Eye’.

And I back up what I say in my character study thesis. The reason why Gabrielle won Xena's affection every time wasn't just because she was good at that moment. It's because she was given a CHOICE to be good in EVERY moment. Ares never offered her that choice. It was always "be mine, or die". Gabrielle always did - she would just take herself out of the picture if Xena chose evil or stand against her.

Such a striking difference is often not spoken about in this love triangle the writers obviously intended between Xena, Gabrielle and Ares. It says that the show never really went one way or the other on the romance not just because it couldn't... But because it didn't have to. There was importance in keeping the romance balanced although many wouldn't admit to it and would rather just complain about it instead. As for me, I think it's one of the most groundbreaking things about it. Rob was definetly right about keeping it this way and I back him up on it 100%. We knew that Gabrielle had Xena's heart. However, the conflict in Xena's heart would always remain because Ares would always be around to remind her of her former life. And in so doing this, we learn that Xena could never be definitively one way or the other either. This is what made her character so damn dynamic. And why it was leagues ahead of its time in queer representation. Even today, a bisexual narrative like this is never done. Or rather - it’s done but it’s never written this well. It’s never connected to the major narratives and themes. And that’s because the queer characters are never the major characters. They’re never the actual narrative. Instead, the queer characters have to wrap around it. And that’s the wrong way of going about doing this.

I don’t care what anyone says.

Gabby was the daddy.

Or the other mother, if you prefer. Although, I would definetly say Gabrielle’s role was typically that of a father. I don’t like gender norms, roles and stereotypes either but that doesn’t mean those are off-limits to a woman.

I’ve said before that the fact Gabrielle was depicted as doing the “typical father” role means the writers were abolishing the belief that only a man can do it and therefore using gender norms, roles and stereotypes as a way to promote equality and solidarity.

If you have a problem with me calling Gabrielle the “father” of Eve, you have to understand I am speaking from the point of view they would have in their time. There was no such thing as a same-sex couple in Ancient Greece in the sense that they could marry and have children without the participation of a male figure. Of course gay couples would exist but would not be socially accepted. Hell, it wasn’t even socially accepted a decade ago. What makes you think it was then? So me referring to Gabrielle as that male figure in Eve’s life should be seen as a compliment, not an insult. I’m saying she had the capability to fill that role and she wasn’t even a man. Just like how Xena could fill the role of a warlord and she wasn’t a man. Can’t you see that I am giving them respect as people who can take on both the feminine and masculine side of situations? Xena and Gabrielle were human anomalies and that’s bloody awesome as far as I’m concerned. I wish more shows today had that kind of gender roles representation with their characters. Sadly, they don’t.

[haveihitanerve]

Who Wants To Live Forever

Sam didn't know why he waited. No, that wasn't true. He knew. He knew quite well why he waited. He didn't want to. No, that wasn't quite true either. He would wait for her. He’d wait for her forever. He hoped she never came. Not because he didn't want to see her, but because he wanted to truly see her again when they reunited. He didn't want to her to come see him alive. He didn't want her to ever have to set foot here again. But she came. Of course she came. Because she was Celaena Sardothien. And she loved him. 

He knew the second she breached the gate. He knew and knew and knew. He had suspected for a while now. Had had it confirmed by Wesley. But now… She walked confidently, but Sam could see the underlying nerves, the grief that weighed her every step. He wanted to take it all away… but he knew he couldn't. The green… it was telling, if the eyes and hair weren't enough. Sam had suspected even when he was alive, but it was her secret to tell, even now. She walked for him, straight footed and sure, bending to pick up tiny rocks every so often, and Sam couldn't hold back his sob at the life in every step. It poured from her, life, love, she wasn't just surviving anymore. She was alive. 

When she reached him, Sam couldn't stop himself. He reached for her. She didn't feel it, of course, but that hardly mattered to him, not as he finally, after so long, got to look at her beautiful blue eyes. As he got to twirl some of that intoxicating, beautiful blond hair between his fingers. He sent a breeze to ruffle her hair, smiling at that oh so familiar face. But it had changed. Was older. More hardened. Sam hated that. Hated that he hadn't been there for her. She stood before his grave stone for a few silent seconds, just looking at it. “I know its not up to your level,” He offered with a grin, winking at her. “But I think Wesley did a good job. I like it.” He tried, as much as he was able in this strange realmed form, to push all his love toward her. To let her feel, one last time, that he loved her. That he knew her. That he accepted her. 

She opened her hand and picked out three of the prettiest pebbles, placing them carefully at the apex of the stone. Sam felt his heart throb in pain at the gesture. Two for the years he had been taken from her. One for the year they'd been together. Then she sat, pressing her forehead against the rock, her body curling against it. Sam knew it was selfish, and crude, but he folded himself into the rock, leaning back against her as much as he was able since he couldn't actually touch her. 

They sat there, together, for a while. Sam just cherished her being so near again. He didn't know quite when she started talking, but suddenly a story was unraveling before him, her story.

“Once upon a time,” he whispered. “in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom . . . very much.”

He had… he hadn't known, then, when she had said it… Sam pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I miss you.” She said. “I know love, I know. I miss you too.” He smiled sadly. “Every day, I miss you.” Sam shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Its alright my love. You’re going to be alright.” One day, he didn't add. But one day, if he had to force the gods themselves, she would be okay.

“And I wonder what you would have made of all this. Made of me.” “I love you.” Sam answered simply. “You are… so brave, my little dove, you are so brave. But you need to be brave for just a while longer. Just a little longer.” tears choked his words, but she couldn't hear them anyway.

“I think- I think you would have been a wonderful King.” Sobs choked him, but he didn't move away. “I think they would have liked you more than me, actually.” A broken laugh tumbled out of her and Sam reached for her cheek, brushing at the tears there. “You are such a wonderful Queen, my love. Such a wonderful Queen. And your people? They’re going to love you. They already do.”

Celaena inhaled shakily, or maybe it was Aelin, but Sam didn't care, not as long as she was here, not so long as she was still herself.

“I never told you- how I felt.” Sam no longer fought his tears. “But I loved you, and I think a part of me might always love you.” “I'd be honored.” Sam breathed, stroking her hair as her eyes closed in an attempt to remain composed.

“Maybe you were my mate, and I never knew it.” At that, Sam finally laughed. “Oh baby, you know that's not true. He’s your mate. You know it too. You just don't want to admit it yet. And that's okay.” He smiled. “He’ll wait for you. And you’ll wait for him. I know you will. And the two of you are going to rattle the stars.”

“Maybe I’ll see you in the Afterworld and then I’ll know for sure. But until then… until then I’ll miss you, and I’ll wish you were here.” Sam smiled. “I’ll be waiting. You can count on that.” She did not apologize, and Sam did not expect her to. He did not want her to. 

She stood, and Sam remained seated. Watched as she dried her tears, lifted her face to the sun. 

He had sensed the male the second he had stepped into the graveyard. Celaena noticed him too, turning. “He was-” “I know who he was to you.” The male returned quietly. Quickly. Saving her from having to explain. To go through the pain she had just settled again. The male held out a hand. Not for her hand, Sam noted with a smile, but for a stone. He watched, silent, as something on Celaena's face shuddered, as he placed the small, smooth, stone onto the gravestone next to hers.

“You’re going to kill Arobynn tonight, aren't you?” the male asked, with an insightfulness Sam appreciated.

“After the dinner. When he’s gone to bed. I’m going back to the Keep to end it.” Sam’s heart broke for her, for what she was doing for him, but he knew she would do it whether or not he said he needed it. And besides, it was as much for her as it was for him.

“And the Amulet of Orynth?” Sam knew, vaguely, what they discussed, but he was more concerned about her. “An Endgame, but also a distraction.” She looked out across the Avery, sunlight dancing in her hair.

“You’re ready to do it?” The male asked, with a gentle and supportiveness that sealed the deal for Sam. Celaena looked back at him, at the stone, and at the patch of grave where his body rested, and Sam swore she was looking right at him as she spoke.

“I have no choice but to be ready.” 

They left, then, together. The male so close to her that they almost tripped, but Sam was glad for his closeness. For his support. And he sat there, on his grave, watching Celaena Sardothien walk away. The way he always had. The way he always would. Sam smiled. “Rattle the stars for me, my love.”

[cottoncandy-cult]

Gentle Touches

Meliodas x chubby! reader

Meliodas sighed as he entered his bedroom in just his pants, he had just finished his bath and was ready for bed. He smiled towards the comfy piece of furniture as he entered, that smile broadening when he spotted the lump under the covers. (Y/n) had come up to the room an hour before him, she had been quite tired after how busy the day had been, and he didn't blame her. She always worked hard and today they had more customers than any of their previous stops, because of that after they closed most of them hung around near the bar for a drink or two. The blonde male made his silent approach, a small candle dimly burned on his side of the bed and lit up the small area. Giving him enough light to see his sleeping lovers face, he adored the woman more than anything else in this world. He moved to sit beside her, reaching out to gently stroke her plump cheek and brush some of her silken (H/c) hair away. It had been almost a year since they started dating, the two were a bit of an odd pair given their different heights and frames. He was smaller and leaner while she was taller and pleasantly chubby, he loved that about her. He'd certainly love her no matter her form, but he thought she was beautiful as she was.

His movements were slow and deliberate as he slid under the cover, he was careful when snuggling up to her but even in her deep sleep she recognized his presence. Her body curled towards him a little, a soft hum escaping the sleeping girl. Meliodas chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling the top of (Y/n)'s head as he gently rubbed her back. His fingers grazed over a couple deep scars, making him hold her closer as a colder look filled his eyes. When they had first met the girl had been living in a disgusting town, the town and a majority of its people were cruel and selfish and only cared about physical appearance. (Y/n) was one of a handful of good people being treated like dirt, it wasn't even as if she eats a lot but that it was just her more natural body. He thought she was beautiful, but he watched others insult and harass her, it was when things got physical, and she got thrown across a rocky hill side that he decided to put his foot down. They were near a slate like mountain so most the natural stones were quite hard and sharp, it was one reason boats were incredibly careful near its coast.

Meliodas hadn't been the only one to witness what had happened, Elizabeth had been quick to rush to the girl's side and that was enough to make the others move. They brought the girl into the boar's hat and tended to her injuries, every time he saw or touched these scars, he felt his anger bubble up. She was too sweet of a girl to deserve such harsh treatment. His movements came to a stop when he heard her groan, his fingers stopping where they were as she shifted. "Meli, you're squishing me..." Her sleepy voice made him realize he had been holding her tight to his chest, so he loosened his grip and watched her lean back a little to look up at him. Having just woke and still being tired her (E/c) eyes were a bit bloodshot and glossy; she gave him a lazy smile. "I keep telling you not to touch them if it's gonna upset you..." Her voice was a bit raspy and low, but he still smiled when hearing her speak to him. "I'm not upset, I just don't understand how so many people can be so ugly that they make excuses to hurt an angel..."

His voice was soft and smooth as he leaned his forehead against hers, gently rubbing his nose against her own as a deep crimson covered her cheeks. Her body pressed close to his as her own arms curled around his waist, one of her legs slipping between his own as they tangled themselves together. "None of that matters now, I'm here with you and I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." She leaned forward to steal a kiss from him, something he quickly reciprocated. The kiss was sweet and warm, both parties smiling lovingly as they'd break apart just to reconnect over and over before they settled against the pillows together. As the candlelight began to fade out the two had begun to fall asleep, comfortable within each other's arms.

[bobawitch]

Romcom Cuddles M.S

a/n: this has so many spoilers for the movie 27 dresses so please watch the movie before/while reading this </3

summary: its the same as the movie night fic for chris but with matt as was requested by @noirpxrker

cw: fluff and MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 27 DRESSES

w/c: 1200

“What did you say this was called again?” Matt spoke as the scene of a pink and white wedding began to play on the computer screen sitting in front of the two of you. You and your boyfriend had been planning a movie night since the tour had begun and you knew exactly what you wanted to watch. Matt had suggested a scary movie or a thriller, something halloweeny and although you loved how enthusiastic Matt was about the spooky season, you knew you wanted to watch a rom com. So you took about 3 hours to convince Matt to trust you on your movie choice. You were both finally back in LA and at the triplets apartment where you and Matt could finally enjoy your movie night. “It’s called 27 Dresses Matt, it’s a cute little romance movie.” Matt sighed, scrolling through his phone as you watched the main character explain her love for weddings and seeing them come together. It was always a touching story to you, the doomed bridesmaid finally finding love for herself. “Booo I don’t think dresses says October movie date.” You rolled your eyes and flicked Matt’s arm. “You already agreed to it. Just watch the girly movie because you love me so much.” Matt rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pressing an adoring kiss to your cheek. You smiled in a giddy glee before settling onto his chest. 

For a while Matt stayed quiet, watching the witty chaotic banter from the movie. You already knew the entire movie by heart, each witty little line, the big proclamation of love by the end of the movie, all the fun in betweens, the twists and turns, the fighting, all of it. Matt sat up suddenly as the girl began to undress in the back of a taxi. “Woah woah woah what kind of movie is this??” You brought your head up to look at your boyfriend. You quickly rolled your eyes and motioned back to the movie. There was 0 nudity and 0 sexual things happening on the screen, causing Matt to slowly calm down. “Ok ok, ignore my former question. But why is she changing into a bunch of dresses right now?” You shake your head. “It’s her job, she’s in different weddings. Now shhhhh please.” Matt sighed and kissed the top of your head. “Ok baby I’m sorry.” A few more minutes goes on and soon the sister comes into Jane’s life again. As soon as Matt sees the sister making her moves he pauses the movie. He turns to you with his mouth totally agape. “Is her sister going to marry the guy she loves!?” As you watch your boyfriend fall into total shock at the audacity within a movie he previously found very girly, you bursted into loud laughter. You slowly nodded before patting the portion of bed next to you. “It’ll be ok Matt, just watch the movie…” Matt begrudgingly laid back down, hugging you tightly as you grabbed some of the popcorn you prepared beforehand. The movie continued on, the plot slowly moving through each section. Then the bombshell dropped, sister marrying Jane’s boss who she just so happens to be in love with. Matt nearly threw the computer but you managed to calm him down to keep watching the movie. 

It stayed fairly quiet, at least mostly quiet. Matt managed to throw in some aggressive and irritated blips about how rude and selfish the sister was, how Chris and Nick would never ever pull anything like what the sister did. You tried to quiet him quickly so that he didn’t miss anything else in the movie such as the plot twist that wasn’t really a twist at all. Matt, thankfully, quieted his anger at the fictional characters when he saw the main character kiss the second guy. Y’know that romance trope where the girl meets her exact opposite except he’s actually just like her but he has to get through his own stuff, yeah that’s this movie’s trope as well. You hugged Matt’s arm tighter as the plot thickened, the first climax of the film finally coming. Matt shook his head and sighed, leaning to pause the movie. “Baby this movie is doing something to me. It’s too up and down, I need to know it’s gonna be ok.” You knew that your boyfriend was teasing you but there was a hint of genuine frustration at the movie. That he was genuinely annoyed at how the girl was going to get through everything and somehow find a happy ending. Because that’s the trick with rom coms, there’s always a happy ending. You sat up to meet your boyfriend, a smile printed against your lips. You gently cupped his cheek and pulled him into a kiss. “I wouldn’t show you a movie that you wouldn’t like Matt, just let the movie finish.” Matt pouted before pulling you closer and snuggling into the bed once more. He finally unpaused the movie and silence fell upon the room. 

Throughout the movie there were a few more exclamations from Matt, the most notable one being after the main character, Jane, exposed her sister for lying. Matt had to pause the movie so he could jump off the bed and do a small victory dance around the room. At the end of the dance he turned to you and pointed at you, “We should show this movie to Nick and Chris. I think Nick would like it, Chris might as well but I’m less sure.” He shrugged before you gave him a stern look. Earning an apology from the boy before he hopped back into bed to finish the movie. Finally getting past the most shocking ups and downs of the movie, Matt calmed and just watched the movie. There were a few moments where you managed to get some funny photos of him. He ended up being more invested in the movie than you were, which you found hilarious.

As the movie began to close up, tying each lose end up you found Matt was silent, like too silent. You turned to the boy and noticed he was so focused on the movie that he’d moved away from cuddling you to sit hunched over the computer. You laughed to yourself before scooting up to him and leaning your head against his shoulder. Upon you doing that he jolted, the two main characters confessing their love for eachother as he looked at you. You stared into his blue eyes and he smiled, grabbing your hands and pulling you off the bed. Music played as the movie came to a close with a beautiful wedding and 27 dresses. Matt let the credit music play as he pulled you close to him, swaying you around the room. After a few minutes of the two of you gently swaying together to random music you pulled away, looking up at Matt. “What was that for?” Matt smiled, “I just wanted to twirl you around and make you feel beautiful.” With that he leaned down and kissed you, a soft mumble of words escaping against your lips. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

[nameless-jamie]

TARTT'S CORNER - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

Masterlist - Next Chapter

Chapter 10: Jealousy, Jealousy

TW: swearing, jealousy

A/N: sorry I hate Y/N in this game chapter, but it's important cause she needs an attitude adjustment.

The late afternoon sun bore down on the training grounds of AFC Richmond, casting long shadows over the neatly trimmed grass. Normally, practice was a mix of sharp drills and easy banter, but today, an unmistakable tension crackled in the air—specifically around Jamie Tartt. His movements were sluggish, his passes off, and when he attempted a shot on goal, the ball sailed embarrassingly wide.

"Fucking hell, Tartt!" Roy Kent’s voice cut through the air, laced with irritation. "Are you playin’ or tryin’ to teach the ball how to fuck off in the wrong direction?"

Jamie exhaled sharply, hands on his hips, sweat dripping from his brow. "M’fine," he muttered, rolling his shoulders as if that would shake off whatever had sunk its teeth into him.

Roy wasn’t convinced. Not even a little. He narrowed his eyes and, after practice wrapped up, pulled Jamie aside into the boot room.

"Ew, what are we doin' in here Roy. You tryin' to kill me by suffocation?"

Roy rolled his eyes at this dumb twat, former-prick he called his "friend".

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You've been playing like a little bitch."

Jamie groaned, running a hand through his damp hair. "Nothin’—just a shit day, okay?"

"Bullshit," Roy shot back immediately. "Your game’s been off for days, and I know when a player’s distracted by something stupid. And I’m bettin’ it’s got somethin’ to do with Y/N again. God, why the fuck can't you guys just get your shit together, fuck and get it over with."

Jamie tensed. "We did that actually..." Roy had to fake a shocked look at that. He couldn't possibly tell Jamie that his not-yet-lover already told him everything about that during brunch. In detail. Too much detail... "When I took these sick days last week, I went to Manchester because I've been like heartbroken an' stuff. Keeley was worried and paid me a visit at me mum's house. She told me to just be Y/N's friend, nothin' more. Said it’s better this way, and that'll settle everything between us."

Roy’s face twisted into a look of utter disdain. He knew Keeley visited Jamie to talk sense into him, he knew all about that obviously. It was his plan after all. But telling Jamie that he should friend zone Y/N. That wasn't the plan. To Roy, the plan was "Get them together, so they can be happy and finally shut the fuck up!" not cause more drama and make to people that have the hots for each other be friends!

"And you fuckin’ listened to her?"

Jamie scowled. "I told Y/N how I felt, Roy! I poured me fuckin' heart out and she just fuckin' left and then acted like nothin' happened during that damn podcast. Then I thought I got me shit together and took Keeley's advice, so I told Y/N we're just friends now. Told her I understood her worries about us and that I'm such an 'understanding guy'. But I'm not, I'm a fuckin' selfish prick. Because the day after I told her I thought: Fuck friendship. I want to kiss her, everyday mate. You feel meh?"

"And what the fuck is stopping you, you twat?" Roy rolled his eyes, the situation was migraine-inducing to him. He knew they both love each other, but they just can't seem to figure it out, fucking idiots!

"Nah, she wants to be friends now too. Acting like we're mates and shit. Yesterday she asked me when I would be ready for another podcast recordin', Roy. She texted me a fuckin' yellow heart. A YELLOW HEART, ROY! She's stuck on that friendship thing. I ruined it. Train’s already left the fuckin’ station."

Roy exhaled heavily through his nose, crossing his arms. He knew that Y/N is just playing along with Jamie's friendship request because she is too scared to confess to him. Too scared of total rejection. Coward.

"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’ve listened to Keeley try to explain the plot of Love Island to me. How the fuck do you even send hearts on your phone?"

"It's an Emoji, the heart's an Emoji. You don't know how to send Emoji's granddad?" Jamie let out a dry laugh, but Roy wasn’t done.

"Listen. Y/N’s not stuck anywhere, Jamie. She’s just bein’ a stubborn idiot. And so are you. I know her well enough, to know that she wants more than friendship with you. For whatever reason... So, you want her to stop pretending she don’t want you? Make her realize what she’s about to lose if she doesn't make a move."

Jamie frowned. "And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

Roy’s lips quirked upward into the closest thing he had to a smirk. "Like I said show her what she could be missing. Like in fucking chess. Force her to make the next move. Make her jealous for all I care. You have to tickle the feelings out of her."

Jamie blinked. "You want me to play chess with her—"

"Fuuuuck, ok I forgot that you're a fucking idiot for a second." Roy had to take a breather for a second, a plan developed inside his brain

"Ok, here's how you're going to do it right: There's this dumb Richmond event tomorrow, where we'll have to mingle with the fucking sponsors of the team, yeah? Keeley told me she invited Y/N to join her. Simple, you take a date to that event," Roy explained. "Make it someone proper fit. Someone who makes Y/N’s eye twitch just lookin’ at her. Show Y/N what it feels like to sit on the other side of the fence. If Y/N wants something really bad, she'll take it. Even if it's you, in this case."

Jamie considered it, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "And you think that’ll work?"

Roy palmed his face at that. "Tartt, she already fuckin’ likes you. She just don’t wanna admit it. You get under her skin and force her to deal with it. You want her or not?"

A slow grin spread across Jamie’s face. "Alright. Let’s make her jealous as fuck."

"Ok. Now tell me what an Emoji is and how I text one..."

The venue of said event was nothing short of dazzling, with warm golden lights twinkling above the elegantly decorated ballroom. The event was actually meant to celebrate AFC Richmond’s achievements for the season, to the players and coaches it was more of a 'kissing-up to our sponsors' kind of event. That's why most of them dreaded it, especially Roy Kent, anti-sociality in person. But this time it would be different, entertaining even. This time Roy could lean back and watch Y/N-Jamie-drama unfold in front of his eyes. Like the drama-loving king, he is.

The room was bustling, all of the players, coaches, and nearly everyone who mattered in the club were in attendance. Even Richmond's most famous football podcaster, Y/N. Looking around the big venue, totally out of place until her eyes landed on a certain striker.

Jamie arrived with his chosen fake date—Lena, an old friend who knew exactly what was going on and had agreed to help. She was gorgeous, tall, and poised, draped in a sleek black dress that hugged her in all the right places. More importantly, she was just flirtatious enough with Jamie to sell the act.

He barely stepped inside before catching sight of Y/N. And fuck, she looked breathtaking. An emerald green dress. The of-the-fucking-shoulder kinda dress, it was killing Jamie.

But then he saw the way she froze when she spotted him with Lena. How her hand clenched around her drink. How she blinked twice, like she was trying to process it. Perfect.

Jamie played it cool, keeping a casual arm around Lena’s waist, but internally, he was burning up. Y/N was so fucking beautiful it made his head spin, and if this whole thing wasn’t a ploy to drive her crazy, he’d be halfway across the room telling her exactly how she made his life hell in the best way possible.

The worst part? He was absolutely, pathetically lovesick. It took every ounce of self-control not to stare at her all night, not to gravitate toward her like a desperate idiot.

"Jamie Tartt bringing a date?" Keeley teased as she strolled up to them. Keeley knew Lena. How? Well, Lena and Keeley've had a friends-with-benefits thing going on years ago. That's also how Jamie knew Lena. Lena, the lesbian supermodel. No ounce of her straight.

Keeley was blonde, but she surely wasn't dumb. She knew that there was a plan going on at the moment. Wondering why sh wasn't in on it... "Well, well. Didn’t think you had it in you, Tartt. Beautiful date." Keeley played along, talking loud enough for Y/N to hear. So, Keeley saw right through the plan and approved of it.

Jamie smirked, pleased that Keeley picked up on the situation so quickly. "What can I say? A man’s gotta move on, right?"

Keeley gave him another knowing look but said nothing, watching as Y/N took a sharp sip of her drink and turned away abruptly.

Lena leaned in, whispering not loud enough for Y/N to overhear, "She’s staring, you know."

Jamie chuckled. "That's the whole point."

Y/N was livid. And worse—she had no right to be livid. Jamie was free to date whoever the hell he wanted. They were just friends after all.

That's what Jamie told her, and she just agreed to it?!

But fuck, why did he have to look so good? And why was his date touching his arm like that? And why was he looking at her with that smug, knowing expression?

"Jamie," Lena turned towards the striker, who was busy watching his target, Y/N, like prey. She whispered. "I don't blame you for staring at her, she's fucking fit. Honestly, if she doesn't confess to you soon, I might just snatch her away from you. But shouldn't you keep making her jealous and not stare her down?"

"Right, right." Jamie thought about what Lena said and composed himself really fast. "She looks like she's goin' to storm over 'er soon. I'm gonna touch your waist and whisper something in your ear, that okay?" Jamie was all about consent, even though it's pretend. Lena nodded.

"Lena, go and get yourself somethin' to drink, she'll come talk to me while you're gone."

If Jamie knew Y/N well enough (which he does), he knew that she would come to talk to him as soon as Lena was out of sight. She was short-fused after all.

Lena nodded. "It's a plan."

And what a plan it was. Y/N didn't leave Jamie and his date out of her sight for the whole evening. As soon as Jamie's date left for the bar, Y/N's feet dragged herself toward Jamie.

She downed her drink and marched towards him before she could talk herself out of it.

"Hi, Jamie. Have a great evening with your date?" she said sweetly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Did you pick her up from a modeling agency or just order her custom?"

Y/N wasn't like that. She never was. But the big green monster made her a..... bitch. Jealous, Jealousy.

Jamie barely contained his laugh, he didn't know his Y/N could be like that. Roy, standing off to the side, failed miserably at hiding his big fat smirk. He knew it...

"Jealous, are we?" Jamie asked, cocking his head.

Y/N’s jaw clenched. "Of course not. I think it’s adorable how you two are pretending to have chemistry."

Lena, the true MVP, entered their conversation again, finally back from the bar, and played along perfectly. "Oh, Jamie and I have loads of chemistry, don’t we, babe?"

Jamie grinned. "Oh, yeah. Absolute fire."

Y/N gave him a tight-lipped smile and turned her attention towards Lena. "Well hello, I'm Y/N, the girl Jamie said 'I love you' to last week. Don’t let me keep you from your thriving love life. Enjoy your evening."

And with that, she turned on her heel and stormed off. Slightly embarrassed.

Roy walked proudly towards Jamie. "God she’s fucking fumin’. It’s workin’."

Jamie barely held back his laugh. "Fuckin’ hell, she’s so hot when she’s mad."

Lena groaned. "You’re both idiots. How about you go after her now, Jamie?"

Jamie found Y/N outside later that night, arms crossed as she stared at the city lights. He approached slowly, hands in his pockets.

"Y’know," he mused, "you looked ready to throw a punch back there."

She shot him a glare. "Fuck off, Tartt. Don't you want to go back to your date?"

Jamie smirked. "Why? Don’t like seein’ me with someone else?"

Y/N turned to fully face him, eyes blazing. "You’re insufferable."

Jamie stepped closer, his voice dropping. "You don’t have to be jealous, you know. She was just a friend. No strings attached."

Y/N swallowed, her resolve wavering. "Good for you."

Jamie tilted his head, his smile softening. "You can admit it, y’know. You like me."

Y/N’s breath hitched. "Jamie—"

He leaned in, so close she could smell his cologne. "Say it."

But she didn’t. Not yet.

She turned and walked away, leaving Jamie staring after her, his smirk fading into something softer.

She wasn’t ready. But fuck, she was close. He nearly had her.

Their next podcast episode? It was gonna be explosive.

[sequinsmile-x]

Chasing Shadows

“Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

AKA the one where Aaron and Emily are in a secret relationship, and have to 'fake' being in a relationship for a case...whilst pretending they are not actually in a relationship.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is one of the prompts from the I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss series, but it got away from me so it is its own stand-alone one-shot!

I've made this a series on Ao3 for ease (and to be honest mostly so I can keep track haha). The prompt for this one is 'kisses for a cover'

Anyway, this is really silly in parts and my attempt at being funny.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Canon typical themes, smatterings of plot/case fic,

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I could have done that.” 

Emily turns to look at her boyfriend over her shoulder. She smiles widely at him before she turns back to the task at hand, her focus on the eggs she was pushing around the pan in front of her instead of how good he looked standing half naked in her kitchen, his chest bare and his hair askew. She loved seeing Aaron like this, without the harsh lines and straight edges of his suits. There was something about seeing him rumpled like this, half asleep and deliciously hers, that she loved. 

They had the whole weekend stretched out ahead of them. Jack was with Roy, a weekend away that had been planned for months and Emily had jumped at the opportunity to spend some time alone with her boyfriend. She had felt selfish at first for how excited she was for it, but Aaron had assured her he was excited too, that it didn’t diminish the love either of them had for his son. 

She’d woken up before Aaron this morning, which was rare in itself. He was usually up before the alarm, waking her with gentle kisses and his hand trailing up and down her back or arm as he pulled her from sleep. She’d spent some time watching him, enjoying the chance to see him completely relaxed. He’d looked almost boyish as he lay next to her, his face half buried in her pillow, his arm heavy over her waist. She’d eventually snuck out from his embrace, leaving him with a kiss against his forehead before she grabbed his shirt from her bedroom floor, fastening a few buttons as she walked to the kitchen to make them breakfast. 

“You needed your beauty sleep,” she says, humming contentedly as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest as he kisses her cheek, “Plus, it’s only bacon and eggs,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, smiling when he beams at her, “It’s not exactly a gourmet meal.” 

He hums as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, seeking out the scent of her that he’d never tire of. She always smelt sweet, like vanilla, with a hint of spice to it. Something that he’d catch in the air when they were working and she would walk past him, a soft smile on her face when their eyes would meet across the room because she knew exactly what effect she had on him. He could smell himself on her too, a touch of his cologne lingering on her skin from where they’d slept pressed against each other and on the shirt she was wearing. It was mixed in with the smell of her, and it makes him hold her even tighter, his lips against her neck as he kisses up towards her jaw, chasing the giggle she lets out as she continues to cook for them. 

“What do you want to do today?” He asks, kissing her cheek, wanting to have as much of this, of her, as he could over the next couple of days. 

She hums as if she has to think about it before she turns to look at him, their faces so close their noses bump against each other, “Eat breakfast,” she says, kissing him softly, “Go back to bed, have sex,” she laughs when he does, kissing him again, “Shower together. Have sex in there too,” she smiles so widely their next kiss is lost to a laugh, “Snuggle on the couch and watch a movie, have se-”

“I get the idea, sweetheart,” he chuckles, resting his chin on her shoulder as she turns her focus back on the food, “Sounds like an excellent plan to…” he drifts off as his phone rings in the pocket of his sweatpants and they both groan. 

“Please don’t say it’s work,” she grumbles, not even trying to stop the way she pouts as he digs his phone out of his pocket and turns it to show her Penelope’s name on the screen, “Damn it.” 

“Sorry, Em,” he says, as if it’s his fault, a hangover from his marriage and the ever-present feeling he was letting Emily down. 

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “You should answer before she leaves you a colourful voicemail about how it’s her weekend too.” 

He smiles and nods, “Hotchner,” he says as he answers, stepping away, leaving cool air in his place as he paces around her kitchen. She only half listens, her disappointment cold and heavy in her gut as she plates up their breakfast, her hopes of a lazy day with her boyfriend disappearing with each question Aaron asks Penelope and each long silence that follows as she answers. By the time he hangs up, she’s sitting at her breakfast bar, one of her elbows on the counter as she eats. He kisses her forehead as he sits next to her, his right hand heavy on her bare thigh as he starts to eat with his left, “You’re pouting.” 

She scoffs, “Of course I am,” she says, smiling he raises his eyebrows in surprise at her admittance to something she’d usually deny, “We were meant to have a weekend off and now we’re going on a case. Unless Pen was calling to tell you about her plans for the weekend.” 

He squeezes her thigh, “No such luck. We’re going to Idaho, she’ll call you soon.” 

“See,” she grumbles, fighting a smile when he offers her a bite of his breakfast even though hers is the same. She leans forward and eats the food from his fork and then shakes her head after she swallows, “Our weekend of sex and food is all gone,” she sighs, “And now I’m going to have to pretend you’re just my boss and not my very handsome and sexy boyfriend.” 

At first, the secrecy had been practical. A tool she and Aaron used as they navigated the shift in their relationship from friends to more that allowed them to do it with no outside influence. No staring or comments, both well-meaning and meddling, from their friends as they settled into new roles in each other's lives. Then she’d started to enjoy it. She loved that their relationship was something just for them, untouched by the opinions of the others that she cared about more than she could admit even to herself. It’s how they found themselves ten months down the line, both aware that this was it for them - that they wanted everything with each other - with only Jack and Jessica knowing. 

It was getting harder to keep it a secret, the shine taken off of it now because she knew if they wanted to take the next step, to live together in one of the houses they’d circled in the paper on her living room table, they had to let their friends in. She knew they’d made it harder on themselves, that the secrecy in itself would garner opinions from their friends and that not all of them would be what she’d want to hear, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not when she’d had so much time to make Aaron hers. 

“We’ll tell them next weekend at Dave’s,” he assures her, “Just like we planned.” 

She smiles, “I know,” she says, “Although I’d still have to pretend you aren’t my handsome and sexy boyfriend when we are on cases,” she winks at him, “I will settle for holding your hand on the jet though,” she leans forward and kisses him, “You have some of your suits here, right?” She asks, and he nods, “Excellent. That means you’ll have time to shower here,” she smiles as she pulls back, “And that means we can keep at least part of our original plan,” she sighs when her phone rings on the counter and she picks it up, blowing out a breath at the sight of Penelope’s name as she answers, “Hi Pen, please tell me you’re just calling to hear my voice?” 

Aaron smiles at her fake ignorance and kisses her forehead, taking advantage of as many moments as he can as Aaron and Emily before they have to slip back into Hotch and Prentiss. 

___

It takes four days for them to make any kind of progress. 

Four long days with very little sleep at the motel they’d been booked into. Aaron had snuck into her room each night, slipping into her bed and wrapping himself around her so they could both get better sleep. He woke her up each morning before he left, his lips against her forehead or cheek as he said he’d see her in an hour or so when the team would meet for breakfast. When they first started this they said they’d never sleep in the same room on cases, but it was a rule that had barely lasted the very first case they’d been together for. She slept better next to him, and she knew he slept better next to her, and any attempt to pretend otherwise had disappeared months ago.

She huffs out a breath as she looks at the boards they’d set up in the conference room, looking over the information again and again in the hope she’d see something they hadn’t seen before. All the victims were middle-aged women who had been found in an alley behind the only high-end restaurant in town. All of them beaten beyond recognition and left there like they were nothing more than the trash they were found lying in. The local cops had dismissed the initial couple of victims as escorts, women who they saw as putting themselves in a situation that could have been avoided. The third victim, a well thought of married woman with no links to that life, is what caused the step change in their attitude to the case, finally calling the BAU when they realised just how in over their heads they were. 

“I don’t think we have any choice but to send someone to the restaurant undercover,” Derek says, his arms crossed over his chest, “The owner’s lack of cooperation is making this more difficult than it needs to be.” 

“He’s worried about his business,” Dave chimes in, his brow furrowed, “More than he is about the bodies getting dumped behind it.” 

JJ hums, “Capitalism at its finest,” she murmurs, “So we send someone in who fits the profile of the victims, make sure that they draw attention to themselves and what? Hope the unsub makes himself known?” 

Emily sighs, her lips pressed together because she knows where this is going. She looks at Aaron and their eyes meet, and she knows he’s figured it out too, his jaw tight as he opens his mouth to refute the plan, something she knows he wouldn’t do for any of the others. The ability to just be her boss, and not her boyfriend, blurred by his love for her and his hatred of putting her in this situation. 

“I can do it,” she says before anyone else can suggest it, before Aaron can say it’s not a good idea, and her smile is tight when they all look over at her, “I’m the only one who fits the profile of the victims,” she forces a smirk when she looks at JJ, “You’re catching up though.”

“No,” Aaron says, shaking his head, “We don’t know enough.” 

“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” she says as she turns to look at him, “Plus, it’s not like I’ll be alone. You’ll all be nearby, Plus…I have something I can wear.” 

He feels a flash of sorrow in his gut at the knowledge that she’d come prepared, that she always came prepared just in case the team needed her to play whatever role was required. He hates that he’s guilty of it too, that more than once he’s asked her to allow them to use her beauty and the way other people look at her to their advantage. 

“Fine,” he says eventually, “But you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with you.” 

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes, her instinct to say his first name squashed in an instant as she remembers where they are, that the team are watching this back and forth, “Hotch-”

“It may work,” Spencer says, “If you were acting like a couple and the unsub saw you he might be intrigued. One of the victims was there with her boyfriend before he had to leave for work. She finished her meal and left out the back and was found the next day.” 

Derek smirks as he looks at Aaron and Emily, “Do you two think you could be a convincing couple?” He tilts his head as he looks back and forth between them, “I’m not sure I see it.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at him, “I’m sure we can manage,” she deadpans before she turns back to Aaron, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

He nods, hearing the question she doesn’t ask - are you sure this is a good idea - and clears his throat before he answers, “I’m sure.” 

She blows out a long breath and nods, “Then I guess we’re going on a date.” 

JJ smirks at her from across the room, “Will your boyfriend mind when he finds out you’ve had to be all over Hotch for an evening?” 

She’s proud of herself for not smiling at JJ’s question, or for not immediately looking over at Aaron and giving the game away. JJ and Penelope found out she was seeing someone a couple of months ago after they saw a man’s shirt in her pile of freshly washed laundry. She hadn’t been able to come up with a lie fast enough, Aaron’s ability to fluster her even when he wasn’t present second to none, and she admitted she was seeing someone. She’d refused then and ever since to give any more details but they teased her relentlessly whenever they got together for girls night, her love for her boyfriend clear to her friends even though she’d barely told them anything about him. 

“He’ll be fine,” she says her gaze flicking over to the man in question, “He’s a grown-up,” she smiles, unable to resist teasing Aaron when he was clearly already a little uncomfortable, “Plus, Hotch is a gentleman. He’ll keep his hands to himself. Right, Sir?” 

He stares at her, and it’s strange to think that a year ago she wouldn’t see the spark in his eyes. That she wouldn’t have seen past the glare he wore as a mask and see the mix of adoration and fake irritation lying beneath. It makes her grateful that he’s hers, that she had the privilege of being allowed to see what he hid from everyone else, and she knows she wants to see it for the rest of her life. 

“Of course, I will, Prentiss,” he says, giving as good as he gets in the way he says her name, an inflexion in it that makes her press her lips together to stop herself from smiling. The dangerous line of giving themselves away that they had walked like a tightrope for months getting thinner by the day.

They go back to the hotel to get ready after they’ve figured out the plan for the evening. Emily looks at herself in the mirror, her chest tight as she feels herself slipping into a role she’d played countless times before. She’s still messing with her hair and plucking at the material of her dress when there is a light knock on the door before Aaron uses his card key to let himself in. She smiles when she sees he’s followed her instructions to remove his tie and undo a couple of the buttons on his shirt. 

“You look handsome,” she says, smiling softly before she looks at her reflection again, blowing out a slow breath as he steps towards her, his arms tight around her middle. It’s a reminder of the moment they’d had together in her kitchen before they were pulled onto this case. She leans into it, into him, seeking the comfort she never quite found the words to ask for. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing her cheek before he turns her in his arms, his hands on her hips before they slide to her back. He watches her carefully, sees the tightness to her smile that usually only the memories of the things she’d endured, or her mother, could bring out of her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We’ll come up with another plan.” 

She shakes her head as she links her arms around his neck. She runs her fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head, “I’m okay,” she says automatically, shrugging before she continues, “We both know I’ve done worse, honey.”

He presses her closer, his palms wide and firm on her back as she tries to laugh it off, a coping mechanism she’d had for as long as he’d known her, “Em, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that with me.” 

It disarms her, her shoulders slumping with it, but she nods, her lips pressed together as she shifts closer to him, “Someone needs to do it, I’ll be fine,” she smiles softly, her focus on the lapel of his jacket as she picks off a piece of lint, sure if she let her eyes meet his she’d lose her bravado entirely, “Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

She chuckles and nods, stamping her lips against his, “It is,” she says, kissing him once more before she pulls back, “But, if we catch the unsub tonight we can go home and everything will be simpler again.” 

He kisses her forehead and then reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing, “In that case, we’d better get going Agent Prentiss.” 

She shakes her head at him, her lips pressed together to try to contain her smile, “Lead the way, Agent Hotchner.”

___

She can almost pretend they are on a normal date. That it’s just the two of them focused only on each other and that they aren’t there to try and lure a killer out of his nest. 

She makes a point of holding Aaron’s hand over the table, of leaning in and whispering things to him and laughing at his responses, acting the part of the loved-up couple that they actually were in full sight of their co-workers. JJ and Derek were sitting at the bar keeping watch, and Spencer and Dave were sitting in a van outside with the lead detective. Every now and again she’d look up and see Derek smirking from behind his alcohol-free beer, his amusement clear as he exchanged comments she couldn’t hear with JJ. Emily avoids the gaze of her best friend, the curiosity in her eyes that looked a little too close to realisation for her liking, and continues to focus on Aaron, on the feel of his hand heavy on her thigh. 

As the evening drags on she starts to feel someone watching them, the familiar prickling on the back of her neck that had been almost permanent when Ian was hunting her down. She casts a glance at a man a few tables over. He looks away, but not before she can see how he’s looking at her, a way she’s been looked at since long before she understood its meaning, and she turns back to Aaron. She leans in close, her lips against his ear, “I’ve spotted someone who might be our guy.” 

Aaron looks over too, his grip on her tightening when he spots the man looking at her like she’s a piece of meat, like she’s there just for him to look at. “I see him.”

She places her hand on his cheek and makes him look at her, her eyes firm but tender as they meet his, a subtle shaking of her head that lets him know she has all but read his mind. That she knows exactly what he wants to do to the man they’d come here to find for even just looking at her. She loves him for it, for wanting to protect her from something that was truly nothing in comparison to everything else, and she can’t help but wonder when the idea of him protecting her stopped annoying her, when she started to want him to do it.

“This is what we came here for, honey,” she says, the gaze of the man in question burning the back of her neck whilst Derek’s and JJ’s burn into her cheek. She lets her hand drop to his shoulder, “We should go outside. See if he follows.” 

He nods, squeezing her hand once more before he gets the waiter's attention and asks for the bill. Aaron catches Derek’s eye on the way out, his hand on Emily’s back as they nod at each other, a silent agreement he and JJ would only be a few minutes behind them. When the cool air wraps around them Emily shivers, leaning into Aaron’s side on instinct, chasing the warmth he always had an abundance of. She wraps her hand around his and tugs him into the opening of the alley, smiling as she pulls him close. She boxes herself in between him and the wall, the brick rough and cold against her back contrasting the warm softness of him against her front. 

“What are we doing?” He asks, unable to stop himself from smiling, something about her presence that always brought it out of him. A balm to his soul that he thinks he must have always been looking for. She shrugs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pulls him closer, smiling when he instinctively puts his hands on her waist. She nods towards the other end of the alley, at the man who’d followed them out and looped around the restaurant to try to cut them off. 

“Putting on a show,” she whispers just before her lips touch his, sighing at the familiarity of it, the comfort it brought despite the reason they were doing it. They lose themselves in it, his grip on her waist tightening as she sighs, her nails scratching at his scalp as she pulls him impossibly closer. They’d shared all kinds of kisses in the last ten months. Passionate. Soft. All consuming. Gentle and comforting and everything in between, but she thinks this might be her favourite type. Familiar. Loving. The kind of kiss she can see herself sharing with him every day for the rest of her life.  

She’s pulled from it at the sound of Derek shouting, announcing himself and JJ as FBI as they pull their guns on the man in the alley with them, still far enough away that they were never in any danger, his own gun dropped to the floor.

Aaron steps away from her as Derek handles the arrest, clearing his throat as he tries to act as if they hadn’t just been caught making out by the team, even though it was part of the plan. Emily reaches out and wipes her lipstick from his lips without thinking about it, a habit she only realises she’s doing until she’s pulling her hand back. They both look towards the end of the alley when they hear someone clearing their throat, and Emily sighs as her eyes meet Dave’s, knowing they are caught simply by the look on their friend's faces. The varying degrees of confusion and knowing smirks painted across them. 

“Looks like our couple here has a little explaining to do,” Dave says, his smirk only getting wider as Emily glares at him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily says, running her hands down her dress to smooth it down, the material creased at her hips where Aaron had been manhandling her. 

“Come on, Princess,” Derek says, his eyebrow raised as he puts the unsubs cuffs on a little tighter than necessary, “Even Reid could tell that wasn’t a first kiss.”

“Hey,” Spencer says, his arms crossed, “I’ve kissed people before.” 

Dave turns to JJ, “I think we solved the mystery of who Emily’s boyfriend is.” 

JJ hums, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “Pen will be delighted.” 

“Can I please remind everyone we are still on a case,” Aaron says, finally snapping back into Unit Chief mode, clearing his throat to try and distract himself from the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, “We still have work to do.” 

“Fine,” Derek says, cutting over the conversation, smiling as he hands off the unsub to the local cops, “But if you think we’re staying quiet on the jet home you’ve got another thing coming.” 

Emily sighs, her arms tight over her chest as she watches the rest of them leave, grateful they at least had the decency to give them a few seconds alone, “It just had to be Idaho,” she grumbles, “Couldn’t have been somewhere closer to home just an hour flight away,” she looks up at Aaron, smiling softly at the slightly shellshocked expression on his face, “This is going to be a long flight home. Think you can scare them into not asking any questions?” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs and shakes his head, wrapping his arm around her to pull her close to stamp a kiss against her forehead, “But I don’t think I’d be able to stop them even if I threatened to fire them.” 

[pumpkingut5]

Could you please write a fluffy fanfic where Y/N has recently started a relationship with Steven Adler...

Her sister is extremely jealous because she wants Stevie for her own. She's also flirting with Stevie the whole time. And she’s even managed to turn Y/N’s parents against the relationship and convinced them to forbid it.

Y/N is heartbroken and frustrated. But in the evening, Steven knocks on her window, sneaks into her room, and they share a kiss and makeout, all while trying not to get caught. He whispers sweetly that he doesn’t want to be apart from her 🩷

They don’t matter

Summary- your new relationship was all you could ask for. He was sweet, gentle and understanding, but what will you do when your sister is hellbent on ruining it all for you?

Content warnings- angst, bitchy family, fluff, swearing, kissing/makeout.

A/n- I wrote halfway through this and then forgot to press save so it all deleted and I had to rewrite :(

——————————————————————————

Everything was right where you wanted it to be. Your boyfriend was laid between your legs, head resting on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist. It felt so perfect, surreal even. His blonde curls were in between your fingers, soft and smooth to the touch.

Sleep almost took over your senses, until an obnoxious knocking on your bedroom door. You still query why the person knocks anyway, because they don’t even give you any time to answer before they barge in.

“Mum says tea’s ready.” Of course. Your sister, the girl who tries endlessly to get with your boyfriend. “Alright, thanks— Stevie wake up,” you give him a nudge on the shoulder. In the corner of your eye, you spot your sister roll her eyes and walk away. A little murmur comes from the man on top of you, followed by a very confused but equally adorable “you alright?”

“Yeah, baby. Bitch says tea’s ready” you huff out. He lets out a small giggle before promptly rolling off of you and onto his feet next to your bed. “M’lady” he says with a hand extended out in front of you. Its small gestures like this that make you realise how lucky you are, you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

You interlock your hand in his and pull yourself up, giggling slightly at the clumsiness of it all. “Bitch?” He asks in a jokingly manner. “What? She is!” Was your defence. “Alright, alright, I was just messin’ with ya”

While you were having your couple-y banter upstairs, you were blissfully unaware of the serious discussion below you.

——————————————————————————

Sat at the kitchen table, was your sister and your parents. Nothing out of the ordinary, no? Well, apparently so, because the conversation taking place was definitely something only true evil could fester up.

“Her boyfriend’s a dick, Im telling you!”

“Honey, your sister is finally happy, alright, let her be.” Your mother waved off.

“No, mum i wont because he isn’t helping her at all!” Your sister argued.

Sat with his hands neatly folded, was your father. He was always one to just sit back at let conversation happen, never really getting involved. But this topic caught his attention, he felt the need to say something. “Why do you think this way?” Was what he went for. Precise wording paired with the sharp tone of voice that never really seemed to go away.

“I heard he cheated on her, dad!”

Now obviously, that wasn’t true. Steven was an angel, and treated you as if you were the answer to all his problems. But of course, In your sister’s eyes, your parents didn’t need to know this. It was all apart of her stupid little plan. Turn your parents against your guys’ relationship, and then take him for herself. She was selfish, narcissistic and straight up rude and would go to any lengths to get what she wanted. Even if that included hurting you.

——————————————————————————

Still holding his hand, you lead him downstairs. When you arrive at the kitchen table, your parents have stoic looks on their faces, purely unimpressed. But your sister, she was sporting a slight grin, not enough to be noticeable to the untrained eye, but you knew her. Just like you knew that small up curve of her mouth meant trouble.

The pair of you sat down, and you looked over at your boyfriend who seemed to be a little uncomfortable. He was trying to be polite, you could tell, but the weird little side grin and tapping of his foot on the floor gave him away.

Halfway through tea, your sister decided to speak. “Steven, could you pass me the salt?” She asked. The look you have her was practically burning holes into the side of her head. Steven, a little sceptical but respectful nonetheless, grasped the salt in his hand and lengthened his arm to be in front of her. When she took it off of him, you watched her hand cover his, trailing along his fingers before swapping the salt to her own hand. “Thanks, Stevie!”

You were practically steaming out the ears, and Steven sensed this, letting himself look over at you long enough to give you a reassuring glance.

The rest of dinner went smoothly. Well, as smoothly as it can go when your sister is blatantly trying to seduce your boyfriend. It was only when you were stacking your plates on top of each other did your father decide to speak. “Y/N, your mother and i have come to the decision that we don’t want you dating Steven anymore.” Your mother cleared her throat before adding on, “there is nothing you can say to make us change our minds Y/N.” And with that, she turned to Steven.

“I think it’s time you leave.”

All you could do was sit there in shock. What the actual fuck were you going to do? You watched as your mother guided Steven out of the house, with a steady hand placed between his shoulders, before she slammed the door behind him. And of course, stood slightly to the side, was your sister. Sporting that stupid fucking smile. The smile you once would’ve thought was beautiful, back when she wasn’t such a two faced liar.

Your chair scraped the floor as you stood up, and you damn near knocked over the whole table at the speed you rushed upstairs. Opening your bedroom door and slamming it shut once you were inside, you quickly sank to the floor. Your back was against your door, and your hands holding your own face, not even bothering to muffle the cries.

Time became warped, and all of a sudden you weren’t sure if it had been a minute or an hour. But you were brought out of your trance by a tapping on your window. Your head weighed heavy as you lifted it up, only to see those blue eyes you love so much. You don’t think anyone has ever stood up as quickly as you did in that moment, swiftly moving towards the window. With shaky hands, you opened it and let him in.

Before speaking, he pulled you into a crushing hug. “It’s okay, it’s alright.” He murmured into your hair, soothingly rubbing his palms over your back. “They don’t matter, it’s just us.” You sniffled into his shoulder, collecting yourself in order to speak. “I don’t want you to go” you shakily say.

“Im not going anywhere, i love you” with that, you pulled away, but keeping him close nonetheless. “I love you too” now he had the most stupid grin on his face, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. You found your head moving towards his, much like he did. When you met in the middle, it was like all problems dissolved.

Kissing Steven had always been magical, filled with love and affection that made you feel the absolute luckiest. His lips were soft, and he didn’t shy away from making noise, always letting out deep sighs or little whimpers. Just like he was doing now, with his hands on hour waist, pulling you in. And his lips kissing you so good you had lost any concept of your surroundings.

It was only when footsteps started to sound up the stairs that you two snapped out of it. “Shit, Stevie hide!” He scans the room, looking adorably panicked, when we shuffled himself into your wardrobe.

A knock at your door again, the same one as earlier. “Hey Y/N, hows single life treating ya?” Your sister pokes her head around your door. You punctuate your next words with an aggressive underarm throw of your tv remote, “get out!” Her laughs quickly stop when the remote only slightly misses her head. Down to the millimetre. She rapidly exits your room, making sure to slam the door on her way.

“You alright in there Stevie?” You whisper

“Ye—ahh shit” is all you hear before he falls headfirst out the confines of your wardrobe. “Maybe not”

The pout on his face is adorable, and only makes your love for him grow more than it already has. “Awh, baby” you say as you help him up. You bring your hand to his face, brushing his cheekbone with your thumb while cupping his jaw with the rest of your fingers. He leans into your touch, enjoying the contact while he can.

“I don’t ever wanna be apart from you,” he muttered. Okay, so that was practically the most mushy thing this guy has ever said to you, but it just made you fall even harder.

If thats possible.

[demxnicprxncess]

hey can i suggest any nsfw headcanons for the evans?? i love those types of drabbles and i think i would thoroughly enjoy whatever you decide to do w this request, since your writing never fails to amaze me 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

havent done request in a while but sure love

Taglist: @kitwalkersgfff, @yes-divine-ruler, @quicksilversg1rl, @charsdunkis, @eddiemunsonsbitch69, @dahmevan, @sultrysullen, @kaylaperiodqueenslay , @fuckedbykai , @mykie-way , @bxbyalixo , dm me to be added or removed dears.

TW: NSFW, opinions, and kai anderson, Smut.

Tate Langdon:

He likes having a sense of control, but still he enjoys being babied, def a switch.

If you tease him enough he gets a little whiney or possibly aggressive.

He IS a teenager so... he'll fuck you anytime, anywhere.

Can be a selfish lover, but he doesnt intend to.

Sometimes, he wants nothing more than to please you. No doubt.

Praise Kink, pain kink, possible humiliation, possible mommy kink. Maybe a small daddy kink, just cause its what he would see in porn. He def would mark you with hickeys and bites. BDSM (mostly his suit ngl)

He bit into your neck over the hickey before licking it softly as his thrust picked up in pace. "Say it baby." She whined gripping on the desk in the empty classroom he had drug her into her hands tied behind her back with his belt. "It feels so good" She'd choke between moans before he laid a smack against her ass. Feeling her clench around him as she came led him to pull out a paint her back in his cum. "There we go baby. Quit talking to that asshole." She nodded softly still tired before she heard the bell ring. "Come on."

Kit Walker:

He LOVES having control, however sometimes he'll let you take control so you can take care of him.

He might whimper, but mostly groans.

He'd fuck you anywhere in your house, or in his car but thats about it i feel like.

he isnt a selfish lover, he wants you cum at least twice.

He'd place your pleasure first no doubt.

daddy kink, breeding kink, maybe just maybe hes into hair pulling.

He kept his thrust steady as she laid back on the bed arching into his touch, "Almost there pretty girl. Just a lil' bit more fa me doll." He groaned into her ear as she clung to him slightly pulling his hair. This prompted him to slip his fingers down to her clit, moving in a figure eight pattern with a steady speed to match his thrust as he kissed all along her neck. "You'll look so pretty with my child in you" With his other hand he placed it on her stomach, "You want me to give you one baby?" She eagerly nodded beneath him as she came undone, prompting him to release his seed deep into her womb. He stopped and laid there his face in her boobs for a minute, "Ya got one more fa me baby?" She whined softly and shook her head, "I dont like odd numbers though baby, and four is our lucky number."

James March:

Hes in control but lowkey wouldn't mind being dominated, he'd just say it was him getting some love in a way.

He grunts and groans no doubt. Sometimes he whimpers.

Anywhere in the hotel is great of course but like he loves laying you on the bed and watching the way you sink into his sheets.

He is never a selfish lover. Maybe a tease, but never selfish. he'd please you no doubt.

Okay so knife kink, master kink (idk i just like the sound of master march.) blood kink hes into marking, loves hearing you scream, loves your tears, hes into bondage.

"Scream my name darling." His thrust were harsh and planned to torture you, triggering your release while he kept going. He wanted to reach his own orgasm while she whined beneath him wanting to hold him but not able to because of the handcuffs keeping her arms above her head, "James, please? I want to touch you sir." He looked down at her before undoing the cuffs letting her wrap around him in a kiss as he filled her with his seed. "Darling, you truly are something wonderful."

Part one since this bullshit has been sitting in my drafts for the longest.

[adrift-in-thyme]

I’ve never requested anything before so I hope this is right!

I’m going with some Malink angst, I absolutely LOVEEE reading your whump fics for them so I guess… more pain please? 🥲 if that’s okay?

Tysm for the prompt @endlessartpumpkin <333 I had a lot of fun with this one. It’s very angsty hehe

I hope you enjoy it!

CW for blood and injury

——————————

Malon has always been aware of the possibility that Link would die before her. He is a hero, after all, her knight in shining armor through and through. If someone needs help — whether to reunite with a loved one or save an entire kingdom — he will never refuse them.

Sometimes, she has the selfish yearning that just once…he would.

And now, as she gazes at the heroes standing on her doorstep, as she gazes at her husband lying limp in Twilight’s arms, she wants it more than ever. Because Link, who is full of life and laughter and love, Link who has faced the moon itself and lived to tell the tale, her Link who proposed with the biggest, gaudiest ring in Hyrule because he wanted to show her how much he cared…Link the love of her life should never look like he does right now.

She steps forward, one hand held to her lips, the other reaching out to touch him.

He is so pale. His chest hardly rises, breathing so shallow it is hardly there at all. If she allowed it, she could be convinced that he is already gone.

Malon forces herself to take a deep breath. She won’t do that. She won’t imagine that her fairy boy is dead.

“What happened?” She asks, tone sharp with panic.

It is Twilight who answers, in a broken voice she has never heard him use before.

“He…he took a hit that was meant for me.”

His breath hitches. It is only slight, but Malon hears it anyway. She lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks at her, there is such pain in those gray eyes, such sorrow, that it breaks her heart.

There is hardly time to comfort him, however. They both know it.

“Bring him inside,” she orders, shoving aside the emotions churning about inside her. “Set him on the bed. I’ll get some supplies.”

Twilight moves without a word. The others follow him into the house, expressions tight and pained.

A hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “I’ll get the supplies,” Warriors says. His face is a mask rapidly shattering. But he smiles, strong for her, strong for the man he calls his little brother.

“You go to him.”

Malon nods, sighing. “Thank you, dear. The medical stuff is in the bathroom. You remember where that is, don’t you?”

“Of course.” In a swirl of royal blue fabric, Warriors is gone.

Taking a moment to steel herself, Malon heads into the bedroom.

They have already laid him on the bed when she steps through the doorway. From this angle, if she didn’t know better, she would think he was merely asleep. But unfortunately, she does know better. And the ashen color of his face, the sheen of sweat upon his brow, the feverish trembling of his body tells her a different story.

Then, of course, there is the blood.

The heroes are in the process of bandaging him. (They work quickly, she thinks with a spark of pride.) But even the thick swaths of fabric that they wind around his abdomen can only do so much to halt the onslaught of crimson liquid.

It soaks them through within minutes.

Malon makes her limbs move, bringing her forward. There is no time to sit here and gaze in horror at what has become of her husband. With firm hands, she grabs a new roll of gauze and sets to work.

Between the ten of them, Link’s wound is cleaned and wrapped in little time. And through it all, Hyrule stands beside her, magic glowing at his palms, trying in vain to heal the injury. But it fights back of its own accord.

“What on earth hurt him like this?” Malon asks, voice tight. The other heroes have backed up now, giving her room to stand by her husband’s bedside. She leans over him, fingers brushing aside his limp bangs. He gives a shuddering breath and turns slightly into her touch.

“We don’t know what manner of monster it is yet,” Warriors says. “But it’s stronger than its companions, and smarter too. And…when someone gets struck by it the wound struggles to heal.”

Malon swallows. “But it does heal eventually, right?” She looks up at all of them, at their sorrowful expressions, at the way they struggle to meet her eyes. “Right?”

“It can.” It’s Twilight now, his voice gravelly from the tears he struggles to restrain. “He’s just gotta keep fighting.”

She turns back to her fairy boy. A ray of sun illuminates the side of his face, making his markings stand out starkly against his pale skin. The crimson stripes look especially fierce in the early morning light.

“He will,” she says, and it is both a demand and a plea, a promise and a prayer. “Don’t y’all worry. He will.”

….

It isn’t until that night that he awakens. The other heroes have drifted away by then, reluctant to leave, but all too aware of the suffocating nature of everyone packed into one room. Only Hyrule and Twilight remain. But both have finally caved to her urgings for them to get some much-needed rest and are slumped over the arm chairs in the corners.

So, when Link drags open his eye, she is the only one who sees it.

His gaze is bright with fever and pain, its usual sharpness dulled. But it only takes him a moment to find her.

“Malon.”

It is breathed more than spoken, hardly a hoarse whisper. He lifts a trembling hand, clumsily cupping her cheek. Gently, she threads her fingers between his.

“I’m here, hon.”

“Mal I…” His breath hitches into a wet cough. It wracks his body, violently, and sends tears sliding down his cheeks. The sound of it tears her heart in two.

“Take it easy, fairy boy.” She fetches a cloth from the side table and wipes away the blood that dribbles from his lips. “That monster did a number on you.”

Link hums. “Would’ve hurt Twilight if-if I hadn’t…”

“I know.” A small, sad smile lifts her lips. “I know.”

He sags against the pillows, breathing shallow, eye half-lidded. He is already fading again, Malon can tell. So soon, too soon.

“The boys,” he whispers, “they’re…”

“Fine. Worried sick about you though. You scared ‘em half to death.”

She shakes her head. The pain within her feels like it will cleave her chest in half.

“Why’d you use your own body to block the blow, Link? You’ve got shields and items – so many of them I can’t even keep track of ‘em all. Aren’t those there to try and make sure this-this…doesn’t happen?”

Link’s expression dulls further. He looks all of his true years now, weighed down by the duties he has long born, exhausted from a lifetime of pain.

“Knocked my shield out of my hand.” He looks up at her and something in his gaze pleads that she understand. “There wasn’t time for-for anything else.”

Malon gazes at him for a long moment.

“You’re insufferable, fairy boy,” she says, at last, a choked chuckle erupting out of her. “Why’d I have to fall in love with such a hero?”

He smiles back, though it is a weak effort.

“Because…of my unbelievably good looks.”

She laughs again and it sounds more like a sob.

“Well, I can’t pretend that that wasn’t a part of it.”

He chuckles, but it quickly dissolves into another coughing fit. She holds his hand through it, battling against the tears that beg to pour forth. And when it is over, she wipes away the blood again, and the tears. He closes his eye and leans into her touch.

“You gotta promise me somethin, fairy boy,” she murmurs, as she sets the cloth aside and rubs her thumb against his cheek instead.

Link looks up at her, something terribly vulnerable in his expression. She has only ever seen him gaze at her with such a look. It is an overwhelmingly precious thing.

“Anything,” he says and she believes him.

“You keep fighting, no matter what.” She encases his hand in two of her own, grip as desperate and firm as her words. “Don’t you give up, you hear me? Don’t you dare even think of giving up.”

Her voice cracks, but she plows on anyway. “I can’t lose you, Link.”

His lips quirk up in the slightest of smiles. When he squeezes her hand, it is a feeble movement, but it is there nonetheless, a confirmation that he has heard her.

“I won’t,” he breathes. “Promise.”

The tears come now, cascading down her cheeks in traitorous rivulets. She brushes them away. Then, leaning down, she plants a gentle kiss on Link’s brow.

“Good.”

His eye flutters closed. “Love you, Mal,” he murmurs, voice so soft and quiet she has to strain to catch the words.

But she does. She catches them like the flitting butterflies she used to capture between two careful hands when she was a girl. And she holds them close to her heart.

“I love you too, fairy boy.”