#and then after that I circled back around to the info you wanted me to grab and absolutely everyone was gone. so I couldn’t do it. so I left

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Princess Worth Saving

Part 4 of Bradford's Princess

Pairing: Tim Bradford x younger(24-26y/o)!fem!reader

Summary: Tim misses a call from you in your time of need, and after he saves you, he promises never to leave his princess alone again.

Warnings: angst, robbery, r is held at gunpoint, comfort and fluff, domestically dominant Tim, softie!Tim

Word Count: 4.1k+ words

A/N: Thank you yet again to @nevereclipse for sharing this idea and letting me have so much fun with it. You're a genius and I hope you like this!

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

Tim pushes your front door open, stepping inside with a large gift box in his arms.

“Hi,” you greet, tipping your head to the side. “Do you need help with that?”

“I got it,” he assures you, kicking the door closed. “You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes even as you smile. As usual, you stand on the couch cushion and wait for Tim to set the box down and approach you. His hands are warm and steady on your hips as you lean forward to hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he says while he pulls you over the back of the couch and into his arms.

“For what?”

You loop your arms around his shoulders, leaning your head against his shoulder as you breathe in his cologne.

“I know I said I would go shopping with you tomorrow, but Lopez and Harper caught a case and need all the help they can get,” he explains, rubbing his hand along your back as he circles the couch and sits. “I offered to work with them.”

“That’s fine, Tim,” you say against his neck. You interrupt yourself to plant a kiss below his ear, then pull back to look at him. “It’s your job. I get it.”

“It shouldn’t come between us.”

“It’s not.” You chuckle at the disappointed look on his face, bringing your hands forward to squish his cheeks until he grunts. “It’s a day of shopping, not our wedding. I’ll be fine.”

“Take my credit card,” he offers, dragging his hands along your waist. “Get whatever you want.”

You lean forward, brush your lips against Tim’s, then remind him, “I already have what I want.”

The mall is just opening as you arrive. The stores are turning on their different music, overlapping in the main walkways as gated doors are opened and lights buzz above you. You’d been looking forward to walking through the stores with your hand in Tim’s, getting his feedback about what you wanted to buy, and enjoying the day with him. You didn’t want him to see how disappointed you were, so you maintained a brave face last night and distracted yourself by kissing him. Now, you try to distract yourself from how empty your hand feels and how strange it seems to not have Tim stationed at your side as a guardian, a lover, and a friend.

Your favorite store is your first stop, and you have a short list saved to your phone of everything you want to look at, try on, and buy. Tim usually looks over your shoulder when you scroll through Pinterest or online sales, pointing out what would look good on you or be a good addition to your home, until he distracts himself by playing with your hair or kissing you until you set your phone aside.

After greeting the college-aged girl working behind the counter, you walk to the back of the store and begin looking through hangers and at displays, practically hearing Tim’s voice in your head as you consider what you like.

Lucy tips her chin up when Tim returns from Angela’s desk. They’ve been looking through witness statements and evidence photos in hopes of finding something they can use to identify the robbery and homicide suspect. He’s robbed several stores in a few short weeks, and during the last theft, he shot and killed an innocent bystander. With the full attention of the LAPD, they suspect he’ll either lay low or keep progressing in violence.

“Is that you?” Lucy inquires.

“What?” Tim sighs as he returns to his previous seat.

“That smell. What is it… rose?”

“Oh. It’s some elixir or something,” Tim murmurs, pushing a case file into his designated ‘unhelpful’ pile.

Lucy smiles, leaning over her keyboard. “Did you buy it for a special someone?”

“She does have her own money and free will, you know,” Tim deadpans. “I don’t just buy her things, contrary to station belief.”

“No, you also get all soft and gooey inside when we bring her up. I can see that you want to smile.”

“What I want is to get back to work so I can go home on time. I was supposed to have today off, Chen.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re grumpy. You’re here with me instead of your pretty princess.”

“Are you done?”

Lucy’s smile droops as she admits, “Yeah, I’m done.”

Less than a minute later, she looks away from an evidence log to inquire, “Why do you smell like her elixir or something?”

“Chen,” Tim warns.

She raises her hands and returns to work, assuming she knows why the scent of your skincare lingers on Tim. If he were slightly less grumpy, she’d ask him how long he’s been assisting you in getting ready.

“Does he always target places that have more than one store?” Tim asks. “Malls, strip malls, outlets?”

“Yes!” Nyla calls from her desk.

“Interesting,” he murmurs, turning to his computer to load a map of Los Angeles.

“Ooh, that color would look so good on you,” you tell a woman staring longingly at a sundress.

“You really think so?” she inquires softly.

“Absolutely! It compliments your hair and skin, and I think your eyes would pop against it.”

“It’s a little… bolder than what I usually wear,” she admits.

You run your fingers along the dress, nodding appreciatively at how it feels. “Try it on. Never too late to wear something new.”

She steps forward and finds her size, smiling at you as she asks a nearby employee to unlock the fitting room. You continue browsing, looking for a sweater Tim sent you a screenshot of last week.

“Are you searching for something specific?” the employee whose nametag says Jenna inquires kindly.

You unlock your phone and find the image as you answer, “This sweater. I saw it online, but I wanted to check in store before I ordered it.”

“Oh, yes,” she murmurs, looking over her shoulder. “I think we moved them to one of the racks over by the register. Let me check for you.”

“Thank you so much,” you call after her, glancing toward the fitting room.

The woman you spoke to before steps out, smiling with the dress draped over her arm.

“And?” you ask.

“I love it,” she admits. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Everyone deserves to wear what they love and feel beautiful.”

She thanks you again before approaching the checkout area, and you text Tim to let him know you’re thinking of him. He had a little longer before work this morning than he does most days, so you enjoyed the extra time together. You sat on the bathroom counter as he did your skincare, and you’ve already decided to surprise him with a homemade dinner tonight, making the most of what was supposed to be an entire day together.

“I found them!” Jenna calls, stepping back into your eyeline. “We have more colors here than that online listing, too.”

“Perfect,” you reply, following her through the store as the mall gets busier.

“Are you sure that’s the same guy?” Lucy asks, leaning closer to the monitor.

“We might be able to answer that if we could see him,” Nyla points out.

Lucy pulls back with a mumbled apology, allowing the others to see what they suspect could be security footage from the first robbery. The jewelry store on the other side of the mall captured nearly a minute of footage facing the targeted store before it moved. In the video, a man wearing a black sweatshirt speaks to the man behind the clothing store counter, then runs out with his arms full of clothes and small items.

“He didn’t look like he had a gun,” Angela muses.

“Progression,” Tim says simply as he clicks the mouse to play another video. “This is from this week.”

This video is blurrier, but it shows the gun pulled from his pants, aimed at the store clerk, and then jerked toward the murder victim now lying in the morgue.

“For a few hundred dollars,” Nyla sighs. “Okay, what else did you get?”

“Possible name,” Tim says, passing a police record over his shoulder.

“We’ll get a warrant,” Angela responds. “Keep looking. And thank you.”

Tim lifts his phone from the desk, smiles, and sets it aside again. Lucy decides not to comment, but she briefly wonders if you have any idea how far gone Tim Bradford is for you.

You open your wallet to pay at the third store you visit, shaking your head when you see Tim’s credit card tucked in front of your ID. Last night, you told him you didn’t need him to buy you anything, though you appreciated the offer. It’s one of the ways Tim shows he loves you, you know, but it’s not necessary. Maybe you’ll use it on one little thing you can both enjoy, like a book or something for dessert.

With another bag hooked on your arm, you enter a store marketing the newest pop culture merchandise and vinyl records. You don’t need anything, and it isn’t on your list, but you’re sure you’ll find something you like or that Tim might enjoy.

“Welcome,” the store attendant calls over the music. “Let me know if you need help or a fitting room.”

“Thank you,” you reply, walking toward the large clearance sign at the back of the store.

As you look through the hangers of graphic tees and patterned hoodies, your gut tells you something is wrong. Since dating Tim Bradford, your instincts have sharpened and begun to sound like him. You move toward the door but hesitate when you see a limited-edition Dodgers jersey. No one enters the store, and the clerk is more than happy to help you get Tim’s size from the wall and even gives you 10% off. Shaking your head as you exit the store, you check your phone before you head to the next store. Now, when you think about missing Tim, you wonder how you managed to go shopping without him carrying your bags before. The thought makes you smile, and you text Tim another short update and reminder that you love him, for more than carrying your bags… and you, when the occasion calls for it.

“Bradford, you got anything?” Nyla asks over the radio.

“Negative,” Tim replies. “Boss said he didn’t show up today and he’s on his third strike. We’ll drive by the house again, check a few stores along the way.”

“Okay. Keep us updated.”

Tim sets the radio in the console, slowing as he nears a strip mall less than three blocks from the suspect’s job. It looks normal, people come and go freely, so he continues driving.

“Where do you think he is?” Lucy asks.

“Laying low,” he replies. “He isn’t a cold-blooded killer; he shot someone, so he’s probably letting that cool off before he pulls another job.”

“Isn’t it weird that he doesn’t take much? That he hits stores and malls with lower-end prices?”

“He’s targeting places he’s more likely to get away with robbing,” Tim says. “They’re not as likely as say a jewelry store to have cameras or to prosecute. Insurance pays out, they write it off. That’s why a shooting throws such a major wrench in his plan.”

“Interesting,” Lucy hums. “Hey, there’s another mall a block east of here, if you want to check it out.”

Tim nods, hitting his blinker to turn off before they check his house.

“Good morning,” you greet as you enter a men’s clothing store.

“Morning,” the teenage boy behind the counter replies. “Everything is 25% off today, and clearance is buy one get one for a dollar.”

“Awesome. Thank you!”

“Sure. My name’s Dustin, let me know if you need anything.”

You nod, moving slowly along the right wall, looking for something Tim would wear. He spoils you with gifts, and though it isn’t your preferred love language (not like it is for him, at least), you like getting him small things and spending time with him while he enjoys it.

This is the busiest store you’ve been in today, but you attribute that to the sale and the fact that it’s nearing lunchtime. Four men browse the clearance racks while two more talk about colors and debate which items to try on. You smile at the only other woman in the store, who taps her finger back and forth between two different sizes, like she’s trying to remember what size she needs to buy.

“Sir, that door needs to stay open,” Dustin calls. “Mall policy.”

The door clicks closed, and you turn just as the hoodie-wearing man slides the lock into place. “Everybody stay calm, and this will go a lot smoother and faster,” he says.

You step backward, your eyes widening as you drop your bags and fumble for your phone. The woman beside you ducks behind the closest rack, whispering to whom you assume is a 911 dispatcher. One of the men makes a discreet call, holding his phone against his leg. Your first idea isn’t 911, however. After you tap Tim’s name, you pull a shirt off a display table to drape over your wrist and hide your ringing phone.

“Nobody move!” the man demands, raising a gun above his head. “Empty the register.”

Dustin nods as he fumbles with the control on the tablet beside him. The woman beside you ends her call abruptly when the intruder walks toward the back of the store. Tim’s voicemail plays, muffled beneath the shirt as you attempt to end the call. Before you can move your other hand, the man rips the shirt away. His fingers wrap cruelly around your wrist, tugging you closer as he displays your phone to the other shoppers-turned-hostages.

“You see this?” he yells. “Stupid! I said stay calm and stay where you are.”

You turn your head away from him, his voice too loud in your ear, and his touch painful. He twists your arm sharply, causing you to drop your phone onto the table your thighs are pressed against. You quickly forget that your arm is suspended over your head and pulled back painfully when the cold barrel of a gun is pressed against your temple.

“Don’t do what she did,” the man says, quieter now, as his chest heaves against your side. “How’s that register coming?”

“It’s open, but we haven’t been to the bank yet this week or anything, so there isn’t much,” Dustin rambles.

“Well, that won’t do. What should we do about that?” he asks, leaning too close to you as his hand twitches on the gun.

“If he moved out yesterday, he was probably upset about the shooting, right?” Lucy asks, returning to the shop after an unhelpful conversation with the suspect’s former roommate.

“That’s one possibility,” Tim replies, closing the door too hard. His phone lights up, and he furrows his brows when he sees a missed call from you. He wasn’t gone long, and you rarely call when he’s at work. As he prepares to call you back, dispatch radios an alert of a robbery in progress.

“The mall,” Lucy sighs. “Think it’s our guy?”

Tim is no longer concerned about that. He hits the lights and sirens, yanks the gear shift into Drive, and steers the shop into a tight U-turn to speed toward the scene. It’s not just any mall, it’s the mall you are in. Tim decides not to call you back, his adrenaline pumping as his mind threatens to show him the worst-case scenarios.

“Tim,” Lucy grunts. “Easy.”

He doesn’t reply, blowing through a red light as he nears the mall.

“What store?” he asks.

Lucy opts not to argue. She raises the radio to ask where exactly the armed suspect is, then tells Tim. He follows the signs toward the entrance closest to that store, pulling up onto the curb before he pulls his gun from his side and leads Lucy inside.

The mall is evacuating, so people are running out toward their cars, some screaming while others shove people and displays aside carelessly.

“Where?” Tim barks at a security guard cowering behind a table in the food court.

“Straight through this archway, and then right,” the man answers, pointing weakly with his stun gun.

“Put that away before you hurt someone,” Lucy demands.

She follows Tim as they enter the archway. He clears the corner, then moves quickly but carefully toward the closed door separating him from you and a man with a gun.

“Tim, think about this first,” Lucy pleads.

“I am,” he assures, ducking to look through the windows covering the front of the store. “One armed at the back of the store,” he tells her. “One civilian behind the counter.”

“And the door is locked,” Lucy adds, nodding toward the heavy metal rod holding the door in place.

“Back up,” Tim requests.

He stays low and shoots through the glass panel beside the door. It shatters as his shot echoes, but he doesn’t care about the noise as he climbs through the opening, his gun aimed at the thief.

Tim swallows and moves his gun an inch to the left when he sees that the man has a hostage. He reminds himself that he can’t remember it’s you, not if he wants to ensure you go home safely with him. For now, he’s Tim Bradford, the cop, not Tim Bradford, the man with a princess in need of saving. A cruel voice in his head points out that you might not be in this situation if he’d answered your call, but it’s too late to think like that.

“LAPD,” Lucy yells, taking her position beside Tim. “Put the weapon down and let me see your hands."

The man shakes his head and moves behind you, his gun at your temple and his other arm around your neck. You keep your eyes on Tim, your teeth grinding together painfully as you dig your fingers into your palms.

“Out,” Tim demands. Dustin rushes out through the broken window, disappearing around the corner as the two men closest to the entrance follow after him.

“Let the other hostages go,” Lucy encourages. “Then we can talk.”

“Sure,” the man says. “Everyone behind me can go.”

The rest of the customers take that invitation, running as fast as they can out of the store. Then, you’re left alone with a crazed gunman who didn’t get what he wanted, and two cops who don’t have a clear shot. Tim nods to you, nearly imperceptibly, but you don’t know what it means. Is it a promise he’ll save you, a command to do something?

“It’s over,” Tim says. “Let her go, and this goes much smoother for you.”

“I lost everything,” the man behind you replies. “It’s been over.”

You look at Lucy, then quickly turn your eyes to the left. She narrows her eyes slightly, so you move your fingers away from your palm. She tips her head quickly, then adjusts her grip on her gun.

“Bradford,” she murmurs softly. “Derecha.”

At that, you pull to your left, gaining less than a foot of freedom before the man tightens his grip on your neck. Or tries to. Tim takes the opening, firing at his chest. His arm falls away as you stumble back toward Lucy, who holsters her gun and steps toward you.

“Cuff him, Chen,” Tim says, taking her place. He pulls you into his arms, tucking your face against his chest as you cling to his uniform. You hear Lucy talking into her radio, but you’re so relieved to be with Tim that you don’t listen. Within a few minutes, you’re being led away from your boyfriend and escorted into an ambulance. The paramedics tell you it’s just a quick check of your vitals, but you watch the mall parking lot outside as they work, ignorant of what they do as you wait until you can return to Tim.

“I understand,” Tim tells Wade. “Can I go now?”

Wade sighs as he signs off on Tim’s statement. He nods, then walks toward the sergeant interviewing Lucy. Tim turns toward the line of ambulances parked in the handicap spaces, but he doesn’t know which one you’re in.

You’ve been waiting beside a police car for the last minute and a half, watching Tim's back. So, when he turns away from his watch commander and is alone, you don’t hesitate to run toward him. He doesn’t see you coming, yet still manages to catch you in his arms. Relief floods into him, seeping into you where you’re pressed against him.

Tim clings to you, one arm secure around your waist, while the other hand raises to your shoulder to brush your hair away from your face.

“Get out of here, Bradford!” Angela yells when she sees you in his arms. “Take her home!”

Tim takes you to his home, though you spend enough time at each other’s places that the lines are beginning to blur. He pats your hip after helping you change, a silent instruction to sit on his bed. You obey, watching his back as he disappears into the bathroom. You haven’t spoken yet, aren’t sure where to start, but being this close to Tim is the only way you think you’ll be able to deal with what you’ve been through.

When Tim returns, he has a wet cloth and a bottle of lotion. Your bags from the mall are still in Tim’s trunk, but he placed a book, a drink, and your favorite snack on the nightstand for you, so you have more than everything you need.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Tim says, standing between your legs. He sets the lotion beside you, then hooks his finger beneath your chin to lift your face.

“I was scared,” you whisper. “But when you got there, I knew everything would be okay.”

Tim nods, frowning as he observes the bruise on your forehead and the redness of your neck. He dabs the cool washcloth against your injuries, then gently wipes the rest of your face. When he’s content and convinced that you're comfortable, he steps away to put the cloth in the sink, but he’s back at your side in mere seconds.

Tim helps you get comfortable in his bed, reclined against pillows with everything you need in reach. He picks up the lotion as he joins you in bed, passing you the remote. After you turn on your favorite movie, Tim takes your hand. He squeezes a drop of your favorite lotion into your palm, closes the tube against his leg, and rubs his thumb over your palm, spreading the lotion with a relaxing pressure and his usual reverence. He uses both hands to massage you, moving the lotion down your fingers as you relax beside him. Every second he touches you is calming, and you’d be content to stay here forever, you think.

“Thank you,” you say as he finishes with your other hand.

“I should have answered the phone,” he replies. “I’ll answer next time.”

“It’s not your fault, Tim. You saved me. That’s more than I’d ever ask for.”

“You’re going to be okay?”

“I am,” you assure him. “Mostly because you’re here, and I’m not alone.”

Tim smiles, kisses your hand, and invites you to recline against his side. Comfortable under his arm, you can feel his heart beating as he drags his fingers up and down your arm.

“You’ll never be alone,” he promises. “Everything and everyone that you face… your enemies have to contend with me, and I’ll never be far. I won’t miss another call.”

“I love you,” you say, turning your face toward his. “I love you so much, Tim.”

“I love you,” he promises, kissing you gently as he tugs you impossibly closer.

You might be Tim’s princess, but he will always be more than a prince. He’s a knight, a protecter, a pamperer, and that's just the surface of who he is. He’s yours, he’s the love of your life, he’s a constant, and you will be by his side no matter what.

“I was going to buy you a gift,” you murmur, “but something came up.”

“Gifts are my job,” Tim argues. “Besides, this is more than enough for me.”

You chuckle, then pull Tim’s shoulder. He understands what you’re inviting him to do, and he slides down in the bed to hook his arm around your waist and rest his head on your chest.

“Angela wants to know when you’re up to meeting everyone,” Tim says against your sternum, growing heavier against you as you run your nails along his back.

“I was always ready,” you remind him.

“You met Lucy today, that’s enough for now.”

“Whatever you say.”

Tim slides his hands along your waist as he reaches up to kiss your jaw, then he relaxes again, and your memories of being scared disappear as you find comfort in Tim Bradford, growing happier each day you are lucky enough to be his princess.

[clowndensation]

boss asked me where some job info i was supposed to collect is, and i did unfortunately have to tattle to her that i couldn’t get it because the person at the jobsite was the worst to ever do it.

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Demons

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Asriel ventures back to Hometown while on the trail of trying to find out what happened to Kris, and stumbles across an unusual man who's all too excited to share his demon-warding knowledge! But it's unclear so far whether this knowledge will actually be of help to him...

Yaaay all done with this series back with the Dreemurrs! This one was definitely the longest, but also had some important info! What I'll tackle next is a mystery to me right now...

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Exterior shot of a back alley in Hometown, with old barrels and boxes stacked behind medieval buildings. Asriel walks down the alley, wearing a striped shirt, glasses and scruffy blond hair, and carrying a large canvas bag over his shoulders. The annoying dog trots happily beside him.

Panel 2: The annoying dog drops his nose to the ground, sniffing at some interesting smell.

Panel 3: The dog bounds off ahead of Asriel to a haphazard collection of trinkets, boxes, jars and displayed charms, all partially covered with colorful cloths. A man is kneeling under one of the tent setups. Asriel walks to catch up with the dog, asking, "What's got your interest this time, dog?"

Panel 4: The man pops up from his odd collection and turns to Asriel with arms spread and a big smile. He has short curly hair, and is dressed in a medieval robe with a cape slung over his shoulders, and bone designs in his sleeve cuffs. He answers, "Just the finest assortment of handmade charms and magical meals made by yours truly, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The dog happily circles Papyrus, tail wagging.

Panel 5: Asriel is a bit taken aback by the introduction, but waves in greeting anyway, and responds with "…Oh! Howdy!" The dog sits in front of Papyrus, panting and wagging his tail.

Page 2 Panel 1: Papyrus leans down with a big grin to pet the dog and ruffle its face. "What a bright and clever fellow! Such a sweet face!"

Panel 2: "You're a good, good boy, aren't you?" Papyrus continues. However, the dog glances over to the side, as something has got his attention:

Panel 3: It's one of the charms Papyrus has on display: a large femur bone decorated with paint, beads and feathers.

Panel 4: The dog leaps up and snatches the charm in its mouth. Papyrus looks agape at this thievery, eyes cartoonishly wide. "Wh-HEY! That's my SPECIAL demon-warding charm!"

Panel 5: The dog goes running off further into the alley, the bone still in its mouth. Papyrus shakes his fist at it and yells after it: "You thieving scoundrel! I take back all the nice things I said about you!"

Panel 6: Papyrus quickly turns back to Asriel with a more apologetic look; even now he can't be too mean. He says, "I apologize, I didn't mean to yell at your dog. I'm sure he's normally better behaved!" Asriel waves off the apology with tired bemusement. "No, it's fine. He's not really my dog." Under his breath, he adds, "He just keeps following me around for some reason…"

Panel 7: Papyrus stands back up and gestures to his odd collection. "In any case, you at least are welcome to my little shop-in-the-works!"

Page 3 Panel 1: Papyrus leans in close to Asriel, observing him, and getting a bit into his personal space. "You look a little familiar, though! Are you perhaps related to Mr. Dreemurr?" Asriel nervously adjusts his glasses, and replies, "Heh, yes. I'm Asriel, his son."

Panel 2: Asriel holds up a hand and gives a little sideeye to the alley around them. "But, uh…I actually don't want my parents to know that I'm back in town, so I'd appreciate you keeping quiet about me being here."

Panel 3: Papyrus mirrors that sideeye, hands on his hips, as if recalling some recent incident. "Ahh…I know well the trials of avoiding family. Especially when they decide to try out some terrible new jokes."

Panel 4: Papyrus makes a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mouth. "Not to worry, my lips are sealed!" Asriel smiles back, and says, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Panel 5: A wider shot of the two still standing within Papyrus's collection of tents and trinkets. Papyrus asks, "So, if it's not to see your folks, what brings you back around Hometown?" Asriel glances around them, and replies, "I'm looking for something. Or well…kinda hoping I don't find something here."

Page 4 Panel 1: Papyrus points up one finger, looking as if he's already solved this problem. "If you don't want to find it, then looking for it seems rather counterintuitive!"

Panel 2: Asriel looks a little taken aback by that logic. "Yes, well… Okay you have a point, but…"

Panel 3: Asriel keeps glancing behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. "This is kind of the next step in a trail of research I've been doing."

Panel 4: Papyrus puts a hand to a chest and puffs himself up, imitating his heroic poses from Undertale. "Well, if your research involves handmade charms and tasty foods both designed to ward off demons, evil spirits and the like… Then I'll be your most cited source!"

Panel 5: Asriel crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, intrigued by this. "Really."

Panel 6: "You know a lot about demons, huh?" Asriel asks as he sits himself on one of the rugs within the tent setup. Papyrus keeps up his self-congratulatory pose. "I, the Great Papyrus, am a bonafide expert in such subjects! Sad that so few around here seem to recognize my talents."

Page 5 Panel 1: Asriel holds his hands up, willing to follow this strange thread wherever it might lead. "Well, I've got a question that all my research hasn't been able to answer for me, so perhaps you can…"

Panel 2: A pause as Asriel holds on to his thoughts, hands closed in front of his face. Papyrus sits down on the rug across from him.

Panel 3: Asriel lowers his hands, his face deeply serious. "How do you kill a demon?"

Panel 4: Papyrus looks back at him with an equally serious expression, then…

Panel 5: The seriousness is gone as he gives a casual shrug, and gives an answer. "Oh, that's simple. You don't!"

Panel 6: Asriel looks a little bit baffled, and disappointed. "…You don't?"

Panel 7: "No, silly. They're immortal, like angels!" Papyrus keeps up the casual shrug, as if this information is obvious.

Panel 8: However, Papyrus then seems to become aware of why this is being asked. He looks around the area frantically, his head whipping back and forth. "Why?! Are there demons around here that my detection flatbreads missed?!" Asriel offers an amused smile back. "Heehee… no, I don't think so."

Page 6 Panel 1: The seriousness returns to Asriel's face as he scratches at his nose, lost in worried thought. "I just…have this real bad hunch. I'm trying to prepare myself for all potential outcomes."

Panel 2: Papyrus ignores the seriousness of the situation, and just seems impressed. "Preparation! The hallmark of the truly intelligent!"

Panel 3: Asriel is still set on getting some information, and continues his questions. "Thanks. So, if you can't kill them, what do you do about them?" Papyrus holds up a finger again, happy to keep explaining: "Well, you got two options! First, you can banish them back to their own plane!"

Panel 4: Papyrus continues, "However, that's really only the ideal option if you're the one that summoned them in the first place. Otherwise it's a whole ordeal." In the background, Papyrus's point is illustrated with a little graphic of a cult member holding up a hand in rejection of a demon within a summoning circle. The demon looks confused and perturbed by the rejection.

Panel 5: Asriel says, "I see. What's the other option?" Papyrus continues his explanation across the two panels: "You bind the demon to something! Quickest and easiest thing to do is bind them to an object! Buuut, problem with that is, if your object gets broken or destroyed, now your demon's free and even angrier than before."

Panel 6: To illustrate his point, another background graphic shows a shocked human with a broken jar in front of them. A demon rises out of the remains of the broken jar, looking angry and ready to strike.

Page 7 Panel 1: Papyrus again continues his explanation across two panels. "Hardest and most time-consuming thing to do is to bind them to a place! Good option if you have the prep time, but then you can't really use that place anymore. Better pick a restaurant you hate and hope no one there minds you standing outside it chanting for three days straight."

Panel 2: To illustrate his point further, a scene (perhaps a flashback) shows Papyrus with his arms raised outside of a restaurant, supposedly chanting angrily at it, while another person stares back at him from the doorway, hands on their hips in annoyance.

Panel 3: Asriel watches as Papyrus finishes up the rest of his explanation: "Aaaand, last thing you can do is…bind the demon to a person! Which…"

Panel 4: Papyrus stops suddenly. For the first time, he looks actually disturbed and hesitant.

Panel 5: Asriel watches quizzically, waiting for him to continue.

Panel 6: When he doesn't continue, Asriel tries to prompt him on, tilting his head towards him. "…And?"

Panel 7: Papyrus quickly waves his hands in front of him, smiling nervously, clearly trying to dismiss the whole idea. "But you know, we don't need to go into the details of that!"

Panel 8: Asriel says nothing, but remains in nervous thought, one hand covering his mouth. It's clear that this is sticking in his mind the most.

Page 8 Panel 1: Asriel remains sitting with a hand to his chin in thought, but Papyrus has moved on to better advice. "But as I always say, an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure! You're much better off trying one of my charms or meals to-go!"

Panel 2: Asriel lets himself smile more at this suggestion. "Y'know? I'm sold. And also a bit hungry."

Panel 3: Asriel gets up, and drops a handful of coins into Papyrus's open hand, which Papyrus looks at in surprise. Asriel says, "Give me your best demon-warding meal."

Panel 4: Papyrus stares down at the coins in his hand, his eyes cartoonishly big and shiny, full of excitement. "WOWIE!! My FIRST ever sale!" he says with a big smile.

Panel 5: Papyrus leaps up and begins to rummage through some of the boxes and barrels around his collection. "This calls for my finest delicacy!" Asriel watches him from a few steps back, and mutters under his breath, "…First ever?…"

Page 9 Panel 1: Papyrus straightens back up, gesturing to a small sack that he is holding in one hand. He looks pleased with himself. "Spiced candied yam bites, from my home country!"

Panel 2: "Each one will purge you of evil spirits for a whole ten hours!" he continues. He hands the small sack off to Asriel, who takes it from him and says, "Sounds like a good deal." In the background, the annoying dog pops back up from behind some other boxes, holding something in its mouth.

Panel 3: Asriel hefts the bag over his shoulder again, and holds up the sack of treats in acknowledgement of the exchange. "Well, I know where to come if I need more info and good charms."

Panel 4: Papyrus stands proud, both hands on his hips, happy at being able to spout off his knowledge to a stranger. "Yes, yes! Tell all your friends about the fantastic advice and the culinary masterworks of the Great Papyrus!" he says excitedly.

Panel 5: Asriel heads off back into the alleyways, and waves goodbye to Papyrus. The annoying dog follows close behind his steps. Papyrus enthusiastically waves to the two as they leave, and says, "Safe travels to you and your annoying dog!"

Page 10 Panel 1: Papyrus turns back to his collection of trinkets and boxes with a determined look, hands on his hips. "And now to see where that criminal canine buried my special charm…" he says to himself.

Panel 2: While continuing on through the alleyways, Asriel opens the small sack and pulls out one of the candied yam bites.

Panel 3: Asriel glances back down at the dog, and notices that he's carrying something that's making a tinking noise. It's partially hidden from view. "Oh boy, what did you steal now?" he asks with a wry smile.

Panel 4: Asriel takes the yam bite and pops it into his mouth with a crunch…

Panel 5: …Only to then make a face, his eyes wide and his mouth scrunched up, as if tasting something indescribable.

Panel 6: "What IS this flavor?" Asriel asks to himself, although all but his back foot are off-panel. The focus is on the annoying dog, who is shown to be carrying a strange, heart-shaped metal lantern on a chain.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

AGORA HILLS- JOSH WASHINGTON

pairing: bestfriend!josh x onlyfans!reader

word count: idkk sorry i wrote this in one sitting in the app

summary: the whole group thinks you're an innocent angel, but josh found your little secret account on onlyfans a few weeks earlier. little do you know, he wants to be a feature.

warning: IMPLIED SMUT (like they basically do it oki), fingering, praise, dumbifaction, swearing, petnames, size kink, manhandling, mocking/ teasing, filmed sexual activity

not spell checked im sorry if theres any mistakes!

"boy, you're the one, you're the only man/ me and you on my OnlyFans/ holy cow, you're the holy trin'/ hold me down when a hole need dick"- doja cat, agora hills

josh felt like a complete and total pervert.

he couldn't help but let his gaze linger as he stared at you from across the room. he was undressing you with his eyes, leaving every trace of you vulnerable, despite your clothes still being on, trying to ignore him and focus on the rest of the group.

it was late in the night, everyone sitting around the fire in the lodge, warming themselves before bed. drinks had been passed around, some blunts smoked here and there.

but he was high off of the info he had about you. and you didn't even know- and it was killing him.

josh's attraction had been bubbling up for quite some time, and he couldn't help but think you wanted him too. a sweet, innocent, naive girl, too scared to hurt a fly- you often became flustered at his comments and flirty remarks. with you- he wasn't even trying to be funny, or witty.

he was so fucking truthful when he always whistled at you, giving your hip a gentle pat as he'd put his arm around you from behind. pipsqueak was your name, because he was so much bigger then you.

everyone was.

but as sexual secrets were being passed around, and you claimed you had none, everyone teasing you- he knew that wasn't true. he was scrolling only fans as one did on a late friday night after smoking- and he had stumbled across something that made his heart drop, his dick get even harder.

it was you- though you didnt show your face, he could tell just from your body it was you. the body he fantasized over for so many nights, here- in front of him.

and just his luck, you were letting people join for free on this one night. it was fate. clicking on yoru profile, he skimmed through all your content, few things- as it looked like you had started not too long ago.

he couldn't help but touch himself as he stared at your naked mirror selfies, or little skirts, and if he was lucky- a video of you touching yourself with your skirt hiked up.

the skirt you wore now was the same on in that video. he watched as you hid your face in embrassment at everyones teasing, and couldnt help but let his lips curl up into a smirk.

"fine, if you havent done anything, do you at least like someone?" you murmered somethin lowly, turning your head towards the fire.

"what was that pipsqueak?" he taunted, his long leg reaching over to nudge your leg. "do i have to?"

"yes bitch! we all spilled, you gotta give us something here."

you took a breath, eyes catching his for a split second. "i like josh."

"ayooo i knew it!" mike grinned cheekly, looking over at josh. "we all knew that." jess teased, nudging your arm.

"don't hold that over my head please." you begged at josh and he winked. "everything is over your head baby." he teased and you groaned.

"alright. well just cause i said that, i deserve a hot shower before bed. goodnight gang." you stood up, giving the group a little salute before turning in the wrong direction.

"wrong direction pips." josh called, making the others laugh. he had to come and direct you, turning you the other way, his hand rubbing little circles on your back, fingers slipping under your shirt.

he was warm and you couldnt help but lean into him as he waved goodnight to the group, throwing them a wink as he guided you down the hall to your room.

"so you like me, hm?"

"that was a drunk thought." you sputtered out as he guided you futher from the group.

"you've had two drinks and a puff of my blunt. you're sober baby."

"whatever.." you mumbled under your breath, making him chuckle. you bit your lip as his hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers stretching down to brush the curve of your ass.

god you wanted him. it was fucking killing you, and him. his cock strained against his jeans, and he wasnt sure how much longer he could wait.

it was like a leash had snapped, when you had admitted to having a crush on him, and even that you wanted to fuck him. he had all the conformation he needed.

"you stumbled into the empty bedroom and he turned the lock, walking over to you- making you stumble back and hit the edge of the bed.

"so you wanna fuck me? is that it?"

"dont taunt me." you moaned softly, fingers gripping the sheets subtly.

"im not trying to taunt you baby, you know i just joke. but you really want me to fuck you? i thought you were miss innocent?" he toyed, leaning down enough to make you go down on your elbows. he bit his lip, eyes tracing your cleavage through your top. your breath went shallow.

"i am joshy i swear."

"really miss pornstar?" you froze.

"i'm not a pornstar joshy dont be silly." his eyebrow cocked, and he leaned close enough you were pratically smuthered by his large frame, tounge darting out to lap at your neck.

"is that so misskittycat?" you moaned as he nipped your neck, teeth biting the skin playfully.

"i dont know what your talking about.."

"you touch yourself so pretty baby. ya know i touched myself to that? it was so much better then in my head. such a pretty pussy." he hummed.

"maybe you can show me how you touch yourself so i can, yeah?"

at this point, you were putty. you couldnt hold up the innocent act any longer. youd do anythng he'd ask, and do it happily.

"i think about you when i do it." you confessed, and he chuckled deeply.

"yeah? you wanna say that to the camera sweetheart?" you turned, seeing an old camcorder opened on the dresser.

"wh-"

"dont worry, its not on. just had it here from a few trips ago. did you want me to turn it on?"

your eyes widdened. "d-did you want to?"

"i asked you the question pips." he smiled as he placed his large hands on your hips, fingers brushing your skin and making you dizzy/

"w-we could film ah- content if you want.."

"yeah?" his voice dropped, and you felt yourself swoon as he kissed you gently, slipping his tounge in your mouth faster then you could think. "yeah" you moaned out as he moved his hands down to push your legs open.

he broke the kiss, reaching over with ease to click the camera on, and you watched as the little red light started to blink. "we're rolling honey. but its just you and me okay? just focus- hey- focus on me okay?" he gripped your chin and guided your gaze back to him. you dumbly nodded, leaning into his touch.

"is this okay?" he asked softly, guiding your hand down to touch your soaked panties. you nodded.

"why dont you show me how you touch yourself baby? so i do it just how you like." you felt heat rise in your cheeks, limbs tingely as you dipped your hands down your panties.

"cmon show the camera baby." he manhandled you, picking you up with ease to turn you around, tugging your panties to the side. you shamelessly dipped your finger inside, moaning softly as you curled it.

"oh yeah like that?" he teased, finger darting up to rub your clit. you squrimed at the pressure he applied, rubbing slow gentle circles. "y-yes fuck joshy"

"oh dont get shy on me now." he laughed, taking your finger out to replace it with his own. you let out a gasp, a look of surprise on your face at the larger sensation, his fingers reaching spots you didnt even know fingers could reach.

"oh i know baby, its so much bigger then yours hm?" his fingers curled and you bowed, letting out a loud moan as you squirmed again. his dirty talk had your head going empty like static on an old tv.

"yeah baby im gonna take such good care of you."

[s1m0nth3swag]

Hmmm I’m kinda curious on how Francis would be like as a dom in bed!

Ohhhh definitely!

I feel like Francis def is too tired to dom most times, but omg, when he isn't tired for once....

This was uhm

Harder to write than I thought! It probably really isn't good so I slapped some headcanons at the end to make up for it a little

Tysm for the ask though, Anon!

WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with minimal plot, established relationship, GN!Reader, Dom Francis, Francis has vacation and uses it properly

NSFW UNDER THE CUT!!

If you were serious, you barely know how you ended up in this situation. You started today thinking it'd be just like any other day, your boyfriend coming home really late from work, so you'd have the apartment to yourself until he returned. Contrary to that belief, Francis had instead taken a day of vacation. He had grumbled something about it being long overdue.

From then, you had thought he'd lounge around all day. He'd probably just sleep a bit more, lay on the couch, maybe help out a little with chores - that's where you were wrong again.

Once the two of you had finished the chores around the small apartment, he grabbed you by the hips harshly. "Francis -" you yelped out, but he already pressed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. If it was up to him, he'd have you right here, in the middle of the hallway. That's just the way Francis was, when he did have the drive to fuck you, he'd barely even think about where.

In the end, you were the one to drag him to the bedroom after he had already pulled off your top and discarded it somewhere. He trailed kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, nipping at the skin softly. "Want you s'bad..." He groaned, grinding his growing erection against your crotch. "Bet you want me too, hm? Can feel how needy you are." He adds, chuckling as he rubs small circles on your waist. You huff and pull him down towards you, kissing him feverishly.

The rest of your clothes are soon discarded - Francis rarely took his time with you. He watched the way you squirmed and whined as he slowly pushed inside you, though. He knew you just wanted to feel him. When it came to teasing, Francis had probably won a gold metal in it at some point. "So good for me, hm? It's always so tight..." he sighs lazily. His hands rest at your hips, pushing you down so you can't grind against him. You whine in protest. "Francis, please.. don't be mean.." You mumble, and he just chuckles as he presses a kiss against your cheek. "Just taking my time, love.. weren't you just complaining about me being too fast?" You scowl at him, but Francis just grins as he keeps pushing into you ever so slowly. Surely, this had to be torture for him as well? If it was, he didn't let it show one bit.

After taking his sweet time, Francis made it up to you by being way too goddamn rough. He practically abused your hole while muttering and groaning praises into your ear. You desperately held onto him, nails scratching his back. "So good, hm..? God, swear you feel heavenly..." Francis groaned into your ear, trailing kisses over your jaw. He placed hickeys and bite marks all over your neck, and you were sure with how he was treating you right now that a few on your thighs would follow soon.

As always, Francis couldn't help but finish inside you after you had reached your climax as well. He watched your slightly fucked out expression and the way his cum slowly flowed out of you, leaving kisses on your thighs, marking you up just like you thought he would. "Always so good for me, baby." He then hummed, placing a soft kiss against your lips while you snuggled against him.

I just really think Francis is a tired man and therefore rarely doms. Just takes too much of his energy.

However, I think he really really loves marking his partner. Like full-on hickeys all over your body, especially your thighs, though (he definitely is a thigh guy). Also very big on praising, though he would degrade you if you asked him to. I just think that in his mind, it's like "in love with my partner, have to tell them how much I appreciate them, especially when I'm literally taking their ability to walk!" Because I just KNOW he likes being rough. He just can't help but love the way your face contorts in pleasure at every thrust.

Francis would also 100% hold you down so he could have his way with you. He'd also slightly choke you because he holds you down by your neck when he wants to watch your reactions (this is totally not because I think that'd be hot. Nah uh.)

Also, I don't really think he is actually that kinky (or he just doesn't know that what he likes is considered a kink because that man has never spoken to anyone about it). I think he always makes sure you cum first, either makes you cum all over again before properly fucking you or denying you an orgasm as he tests how long he can hold one back himself.

Also, with a fem partner, he is so into eating them out. Genuinely obsessed with it.

With a masc partner, I think he'd be the type to touch them while just watching their expressions

he is so big on watching his partner. He just wants to make sure he's making you feel good still, even though he definitely has your favourite spots memorised by heart.

Anyway! Really short omg I'm sorry. I'm currently obsessing over School Bus Graveyard, so uhm! Not many Francis thoughts in my brain. I hope this isn't as bad as it looks to me (it's definitely worse, but I will not be bothered (I will panic about it))

[bvrnesher]

Jealous!Leo headcanons. NSFW or SFW

❝ Jealous headcanons ! ❞ ― leo valdez!

tap here for chb masterlist ! here for reqs info

warnings: nsfw/sfw content.

— ✦ pairing: leo valdez ! reader.

a/n: I decided to make both nsfw and sfw. hope you like it ! ♡ + I opted more for my perception of Leo than for the concept of "jealousy" in general.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ꪆ ✦ 𑊁 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

— ୨ৎㅤ˳ NSFW

Leo’s jealousy doesn’t explode—it festers. He’ll act chill, crack jokes, make a snarky comment about the way that son of Hermes looked at you. But that night? He can’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing. Touching himself with his jaw clenched, whispering your name like a curse, trying to come hard enough to forget that someone else might get to touch you.

He needs to make you laugh when he’s jealous. It’s his only weapon. He’s insecure as hell about being the “funny one,” the guy you hang out with, not the one you fuck. So he flirts harder. Tries to make you smile until your eyes crinkle. And if you kiss him mid-laugh, straddle his lap and grind down until he’s gasping? That’s when he finally believes you want him—and only him.

Sex with jealous Leo is desperate, uncoordinated, raw. Clothes half-on. Hands in the wrong places. He’s shaking while he fucks into you like he’s trying to stake a claim. Voice breaking. “Please don’t leave me. Please.” You cup his cheeks, tell him “I’m right here,” and he comes just from that. Doesn’t even last a full minute. He buries his face in your chest and begs for another chance to make you feel good.

He cries during sex sometimes—quietly, shakily. Not every time. Just when he’s been stewing in the fear. When someone else flirts with you and it confirms every worst thing he thinks about himself. When you whisper “You’re mine” while riding him and it breaks him. He gasps. Chokes on a sob. “Gods, I love you—I’m so scared you’re gonna find someone better—” And you shut him up with your mouth. With your body. You fuck the doubt out of him.

He never thinks he’s enough, so he overcompensates. Tries to finger you just right. Goes down on you like he’s solving a mechanical problem—what makes you twitch, what makes you moan, what makes you say his name like it’s gospel. And when you come on his tongue? He smiles through tears. Because he made you feel good. He did something right.

Leo’s obsessed with praise. Not praise for his jokes. Not even for his skills. Praise for him. Whisper “You’re so good to me” while you ride him, and he’s gone. Gone. Fingernails in your hips. “Say it again.” You stroke his curls and tell him he’s perfect and he comes so hard he forgets where he is. Because you saw him. You chose him.

After sex, he clings. He doesn’t even mean to. You’re catching your breath and suddenly he’s curled around you, face in your neck, fingers tracing circles on your back like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. You run your hands through his hair and he mumbles, half-asleep, “I’d burn down the world if it meant you’d stay.”

Leo gets physically sick when he thinks you might leave. The first time someone else touched your arm too long? He laughed it off. Said something dumb, bit his tongue. But when he got back to Bunker 9 alone? He threw up. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t focus. He fisted his cock in the shower and cried when he came, whispering your name like a spell, like a prayer, like maybe it would keep you tethered to him.

His jealousy makes him reckless in bed. He doesn’t know how to be chill. He’s biting your neck too hard, rutting into you with a desperation that makes your thighs ache. He keeps saying “Mine” under his breath like a chant, like he’s trying to curse you with it. “Say it,” he hisses, teeth on your shoulder. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me no one else gets this.”

He makes things with your name on them. A little brand. A stylized, hidden engraving on his tools, on his gloves, on the buttons of his jumpsuit. A ring with your name carved inside the band. He won’t say a word about it unless you ask—but when you do? His voice breaks. “I just… I needed something that made it real.”

He’s a switch, but his jealousy flips a switch in you. You grab his wrists. Push him onto the worktable. He stutters. Gasps. “Wait, I thought—” But when you ride him with your hand gripping his jaw, whispering “Don’t even think about anyone else touching me,” he shatters. Comes deep and hard with his mouth open, eyes wide, begging for you to do it again.

He jerks off to the memory of you marking him. Scratches down his back. A bite just under his jaw where people can almost see it. One time, you called him pretty boy while you were riding him—and he still dreams about it. Wakes up with sticky boxers, whimpering and guilty and so in love with the way you ruin him.

Jealous Leo is mouthy during sex. But not cocky—panicked. “You’re so hot—please—please don’t leave me—fuck, no one gets to see you like this, right? Just me? Just me, baby, c’mon—please—” He’s shaking when he comes. Buried deep. Gasping into your neck. He needs the closeness like oxygen.

Sometimes he goes quiet afterward. Just lays there holding you, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling like he’s counting how many ways he could mess it up. You ask him what’s wrong and he just kisses your forehead. Says, “Nothing. I just… I don’t know how I got lucky enough to have you.”

He’ll never forgive himself if he hurts you. If his jealousy makes you cry, if he snaps and says something cruel—he shuts down. Fully spirals. Doesn’t talk for hours. Builds half a dozen machines trying to distract himself. And later, he gets on his knees in front of you, palms open, eyes wet. “I’ll never be perfect. But I’ll always come back to you. Please… let me make it right.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ꪆ ✦ 𑊁 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

— ୨ৎㅤ˳ SFW ㅤ

He laughs it off… at first. If someone’s flirting with you, Leo’s immediate response is humor. He’ll crack a joke, nudge your side, maybe say something like, “Wow, I didn’t realize I had competition today.” But his eyes are watching closely—too closely—for someone who claims he’s totally chill.

But his smile never quite reaches his eyes. You know that Leo can light up a room when he’s happy—but when he’s jealous, there’s this flicker of doubt behind his grin. It’s not dramatic, not obvious. Just a slightly too-tight laugh, a sarcastic edge to his jokes. And the way he holds your hand a little tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.

His insecurity bubbles beneath the surface. Leo’s smart. He knows when someone’s checking you out. And no matter how much you love him, there's a voice in the back of his head whispering “They’re better than you. Cooler. Less broken.” He doesn’t say it out loud—but it lingers in the way he avoids your gaze after.

He gets fidgety when he's jealous. Playing with his tools, spinning a screwdriver between his fingers, clicking his pen over and over. It’s subtle, but his nervous energy ramps up when he feels threatened. He’ll start working on some random project just to keep his hands busy—and his thoughts in check.

He pulls you closer. Not in a possessive way, but a quiet reassurance kind of way. An arm slung over your shoulder. His fingers brushing yours until you're holding hands. His knee bumping into yours beneath the table. He doesn't say "you're mine," but he doesn't have to. His touch says it all.

He overcompensates with affection. Extra compliments. Silly flirting. Dumb pick-up lines. He’s laying it on thick—not because he thinks you need reminding, but because he does. If someone else is making you smile, Leo needs to prove he can make you smile more.

He won’t start a fight—but he’ll remember. Leo doesn’t get angry easily, but if someone crosses a line, it sticks with him. He’ll joke about it days later—“Remember that guy who was two seconds away from getting roasted by my flamethrower? Good times.” And you’re never sure if he’s entirely kidding.

When you reassure him, he melts. A kiss on his cheek. A hand in his curls. Telling him “Hey, you don’t have to compete. You already win.” It destroys him in the best way. He’ll blink fast, then grin like the sun just came out. And suddenly he’s leaning into you like gravity doesn’t work unless you're touching.

He’s fiercely loyal. Jealousy doesn't come from possessiveness—it comes from fear of loss. Leo loves hard. And when he finds someone who sees him—really sees him—he’ll do anything to hold on. Even if that means quietly battling his demons with a wrench in one hand and your heart in the other.

He tries to act unbothered… and totally fails. Leo’s first defense is pretending like he doesn’t notice. He’ll joke, mess with his tools, or suddenly get very interested in something else. But then he starts mumbling under his breath, tossing out little comments like, “Oh, wow, that guy sure talks a lot, huh?” or “Wonder how long it takes to build a personality from scratch.”

His pride gets a little bruised. Leo’s not cocky, but he’s proud of being the funny, clever one. If someone else makes you laugh in a way that rattles him—especially if it’s someone taller, buffer, more “heroic” in the traditional sense—he shuts down just a little. You’ll notice the quiet pause in conversation, the way his knee bounces, the silence between punchlines.

He becomes hyperaware of you. Where you’re looking. Who you’re standing close to. If someone’s hand brushes yours. He starts watching all of it without realizing, his jaw ticking subtly, like he’s working through a problem he knows he shouldn’t be bothered by—but is.

He’ll do dumb, adorable things to get your attention back. Like dramatically pretending to electrocute himself in Bunker 9. Or building you a tiny robot that throws heart-shaped sparks. Or randomly picking you up bridal-style and spinning you in a circle while yelling, “Best girlfriend ever! Science confirmed!”

He won’t say “I’m jealous.” He’ll say, “Do you even like me like that?” Leo’s jealousy doesn’t come out in confrontation—it seeps out in insecurity. He’s not possessive. He’s just scared. Afraid he’s too much, or not enough. If he’s quiet for too long, it’s because that little voice is whispering, They’re better. Why would they stay with someone like you?

Physical affection helps him come back to himself. If you notice he’s spiraling—if his jokes are a little too sharp, or he keeps pulling away—grab his hand. Kiss his cheek. Bury your fingers in his curls and tell him, “Hey, I’m right here.” That’s all it takes. He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for hours.

He loves when you get possessive for him. If you slide your arm around him, or lean into him when someone else is being too flirty? He melts. His eyes go soft, his voice goes quiet, and for once, he doesn’t make a joke. He just murmurs, “You picked me,” like it’s the wildest miracle in the world.

He builds when he’s upset. Jealous Leo? Bunker 9 becomes loud. Metal clanking, gears spinning, music blasting. He channels it all into invention—sometimes messy, sometimes brilliant, always a little bit sad. If you come in and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, you’ll feel the tension leave his body immediately.

He doesn’t need revenge—he just needs you. You being steady. You choosing him, over and over again. You telling him he’s enough. That’s all it takes to dissolve the storm behind his eyes and bring back your boy.

[rhiannonsknife]

hello sorry to bother you i am still delulu about the ending and our poor Mari 💔 can you do a c.ai bot where mari got the card and her girlfriend will try to save her and even fought against everyone who tried to hunt her. she managed to give her time to run away and instead mari’s silly girlfriend fell into the pit but she didn’t fall so deep and sustained injuries. they called off the hunt thinking it’s a sign from the wilderness and it doesn’t want this “sacrifice” since mari’s girl didn’t die despite falling into the pit. and then mari brought her girlfriend back to their shared hut and cleaned up her wounds. please make it angst kinda vibe! like why did you do that? are you stupid?

i hope this is what you had in mind for this bot anon! info + link below as always! <3

mari somehow manages to drag you inside the hut, her arms locked tight around your waist as your legs nearly give out beneath you. it’s a blur of mud, blood and pain until she gets you down onto the cot, the one you both used to share back when nights were cold.

mari’s breathing is uneven, chest heaving like she hasn’t taken a full breath since you went over the edge. her hands won’t stop shaking where they hover uselessly above you as if she doesn’t know where to start.

“don’t move,” she snaps, voice cracking halfway through. “just- don’t be stupid and move, okay?”

your vision blurs at the edges, pain blooming where your shoulder slammed into the jagged pit wall, essentially saving you from getting impaled and killed. the fall should’ve killed you. everyone thought it did. after mari had pulled the queen of hearts, everything had happened too fast to keep track: one second, she was standing in the middle of the circle, the next, you were lunging forward. you didn’t have a plan. you just knew you weren’t going to let them take her.

they only stopped their chase when you fell. you remember the sound of gasps, the momentary chaos followed by the scrambling at the pit’s edge. the hunt was called off. the wilderness had spoken, they said. the sacrifice had been rejected and it had spared its chosen.

idiots.

mari doesn’t believe in signs anymore. she certainly never believed in saviors. not until you.

fumbling at your jacket, she curses under her breath the moment she sees the gash along your side. she tears a strip from one of the blankets and presses it against your ribs with too much force. “why did you do that?” she mutters. “you knew it was me. why the hell would you- why wouldn’t you just let me go?”

you try to speak, but she doesn’t let you.

“you’re so fucking stupid!” her hands still, bandage half-wrapped. “i got the card,” her lashes are wet when she blinks. “you were supposed to be safe. you were the only thing i was still trying to protect!”

— c.ai

[hello-gloomy]

Hiii!! I absolutely love your fics of Xeno and Stanley💕💕 if you don't mind can I request a StanXeno with ryusui's older sister reader! She's a scientist who works at NASA then met Xeno and later met Stanley, they got together but a few years later they broke up due to some disagreement she then left America and came back to Japan, and met again after the petrification with reader on senku's group since that's where her brother is.

RAGHHHH I'm so sorry this is short, I might end up making a part two or somin, honestly Ryusui took a back seat till the end and the readers career was like mentioned in passing.

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A Second Chance

XenoStan x Ryusui's older sister!Reader

Description: A past relationship get brought up in passing and then you get confronted with it presently.

Warnings: sprinkle of angst, Gen appearance, Ryusui attacking Stanley, cursing, smoking.

A/N: once again sorry it's so short and I hope i didn't stray to far from your request I hope you still enjoy it.

Words: 727

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"You dated the brutal dictator of the American colony and his second command?" Gen asked while Ryusui and Francois looked at you, awaiting your answer to the magician's question.

"They weren't like that when we were dating." You tell them with a purse of your lips you do not want to argue about your 'old flames' and their previous actions. The three gave you varying looks, and you just rolled your eyes. You waved them off and walked away, letting them make up their theories and come to their conclusions about it; your brother glanced at you but turned back around instead of following up with you and the info you gave him. Walking out of the new bar established on the land, you return to the beach, deciding on a late evening walk to enjoy the sunset. While walking, you watch the skies, distantly track the weather patterns, and stop when you hear crashing waves. You close your eyes and breathe in the air, reminding you of the days you initially worked here in America. It smelled the same as before you left and made you feel sentimental.

"Funny seeing you here." Two pairs of footsteps stop beside you, and a familiar voice teases you with a greeting. You open your eyes and turn to the blonde and the doctor with albinism. You sigh and look away from them again, still deciding whether or not to be mad at them or to be civil.

"Hell of a way to greet your ex." You settle with a curt glare at the two of them. Xeno slinks back a bit, and Stanley looks hurt but covers it up fast. He strikes a match and starts to smoke; you and Xeno both watch; the smell makes your eyes water at the memories. Stanley watches your eyes before offering the smoke to you. It makes you hesitate. Xeno watches on, and you decide to accept it; you notice the slight purple, and it makes you smile. You inhale it, then exhale the smoke. You look at the tobacco in your hands and start laughing. You laugh until you cry, making the two of them jump at the tears you shed; Xeno circles to the other side of you, and they shuffle closer until they box you in. They move to settle on the ground with you, and Stanley rubs your back as you continue to cry, and Xeno leans his head on your shoulder.

"I'm so fucking mad at you two." You mumble with unsteady breaths and smack Stanley's leg.

"You did so much stupid shit, there were other solutions. You're a genius, Xeno, and you should have realized the better path." The doctor lets out a slight hum and nods along.

"And what makes me the most mad is that I still love the two of you." You tell them while wrapping your arms around them; they squish you between them, conveying everything left unsaid the day you originally left them.

"How about we start again." Stanley offers.

"If the world can start anew, then so can we." Xeno shares his judgment with you both. You smile, your tears drying, and tell them both that you would love to start over again with them. Feeling that empty spot, they left, filling up once again.

"(Name) I wanted to talk about what you-" The three of you snap around, and Stanley stands up the fastest; Ryusui looks at your face and his twists from concern to anger.

"Ryu, wait, it's not-" Your brother launches himself from where he was standing and dogs on Stanley, shouting at what he did to upset his sister; Xeno's in a state of shock, and you're trying to rip you idiot sibling off of your boyfriend before they start up a war again. You eventually get him off of Stan, and the blonde is currently lying in the sand while you fuss at your younger sibling for attacking him.

"WE WERE MAKING UP!"

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO DATE DICTATORS?!"

"Ex-dictator, thank you."

"I'm just a soldier."

"I'm gonna kill both of them." You put Ryusui in a headlock and then slammed him onto the ground, then grabbed both of the dumbasses you started dating again and ran off from your wrathful little brother. You were so happy to have a second chance with them.

[lunajay33]

Over Looked

•🪽🌌🌑•

Summary: Being the youngest Archeron sister was hard and when you’re thrown into a new life as a high fae living in the night court people don’t see your struggle, and the one you crave only has eyes for your sister Elain

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Info: Elain and Nesta always hated reader, Rhys and Feyre adore her, angst with a happy ending

•Masterlist•

After years of living in poverty, sleeping on the cold hard floor while my three older sisters shared a bed, my two oldest sisters hating me, after almost dying trying to sneak into prythian finding myself lost in the woods for months until a tall man with dark hair found me curled up in the autumn court woods almost starving from being lost for so long and running for my life every second, he was like a dark angel as he kneeled infront of me

Flashback

“Your sister has been desperately trying to find you” he smiles as he pick me up and glimmering smoke surrounds us

“Feyre” I whisper when I open my eyes again I’m in a fancy house and there sits my lovely sister but she was undeniable more beautiful, he lays me on the couch as Feyre kneels next to me

“I tried……I tried to save you Fey” I sigh weakly noticing the tears in her eyes

“I’m so sorry, none of this would’ve happened I should have protected you” she cry’s

She filled me in on everything that happened, how the man that found me was her mate and this was the night court, how she was now a high fae

She helped me bath and fed me, introducing me to Mor, Cassian he was like a huge teddy bear, and Azriel he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen but he seemed to be standoffish, quiet and mysterious but his shadows would seem me out sometimes late at night when I couldn’t sleep, terrified of the memories of the monsters that had chased me

Then everything changed, me, Elain and Nesta got taken, thrown into the cauldron and turned into high fae, Elain got powers and so did Nesta, I was yet to discover if I had any ability, even now as we were all in the inner circle Elain and Nesta took any chance they could to jab at me

Present

I’m still having a hard time adjusting to this new life, finding it hard to let my old life go wishing I could have what Feyre had, she looks so happy as she looks into the eyes of her mate as they are sat at the head of the table while we all eat our dinner

I look back down the table noticing the way Azriel would glance at Elain, I’ve caught it a few times and it broke my heart each time, the moment I crawled out of the cauldron and looked at him I felt it in my chest that he was the one for me but he had eyes for one of the sisters that made my life hell

“Y/n dear aren’t you hungry?” Mor asks smiling as she’s sat next to me, I put on a fake smile and shrug my shoulders

“Oh I’ve just lost my appetite is all”

“Probably for the best anyways she could afford to loose some weight” Nesta laughed as Elain joined in like cackling hyenas, I can feel my lip wobble as I try to keep the tears at bay looking down at Feyre for help, she always stuck up for me

“Nesta Elain that’s enough” she said sternly, Rhys next to her shooting them daggers with his eyes

“I think I’m just going to go to bed” I excuse myself going down the hall to my room hearing Feyre scold them but they just kept laughing

Looking in the mirror I hold up my shirt sighing, were they right? Maybe Azriel would notice me then, I feel a shadow swirl along my leg up to my cheek giving me a comforting feeling like it’s my own emotional support shadow

I lay in bed as it dances around my fingers, why is it always her, everyone wants them but no one ever wants me, a knock raps on the door and in steps Cassian in all his cuddly glory, since Rhys rescued me he’s helped nurse me back to health and became like a big brother to me

He throws himself on the bed next to me with a pout as he watches me play with the shadow

“You know I’ve never seen them do that with anyone else” he says

“Can I ask you something?” I ask looking at him now

“Of course”

“Am I……ugly?” His eyes grow wide

“What? Of course not your beautiful, don’t listen to them they’re just playing around”

“No they aren’t, they’ve treated me like that from the day I was born, called me ugly, chubby, no one will ever want me, they pick on everything I do and now……the guy I’m destined to be with doesn’t even second glance at me to preoccupied with someone else, of course he would not even my own mate wants me” I rant finally getting it off my chest

“WAIT WHAT? You’ve found your mate and you haven’t told any of us? This is a huge deal who is it?” He asks like a girl wanting all the gossip

“Come on Cas, why would I wanna tell you it’s embarrassing, they always want her” I sigh shrugging my shoulders

“Want who?” He asks rubbing my back

“Elain, but why don’t guys look at me I’m nice and I’d give my heart to him but all he sees is Elain and how pretty she is”

“Elain? Who’s looking at he….” He stops as a see the realization on his face

“Azriel? He’s your mate” I nod looking away

“Like they said I’m too ugly for someone like him” I try to distract myself with the shadow still around my fingers

“Hey you’re beautiful, why don’t you tell him or talk to Feyre and Rhys”

“Maybe”

I made my way down the hall to Rhys’s office where he and Feyre were chatting

“Hey can I talk to you guys?” I ask nervously

“Of course sit” Feyre says motioning to the chair infront of her and Rhys

“I’m sorry about before I’ve told them to stop talking to you like that” Feyre smiles gently

“Thank but I wanted to tell you something else, it’s really been weighing on me” they give me their full attention

“What is it sweetheart?” Rhys asks

“I’ve found my mate”

“What since when?”

“Since I came out of the cauldron” I say as another shadow comes and plays through my hair and they smile

“Azriel?” Rhys asks

“Not that it matters he only has eyes for Elain”

“Oh dear he might come around just give him time” Feyre says

“Why don’t you tell him”

“I can’t I can’t handle that rejection” they give eachother that look that tells me they’re talking to eachother through the bond

“I’m gonna go, it’s getting late” I say leaving quickly before they could stop me

I head to my room and pack a bag, I can’t stay in this place anymore what’s the point Elain and Nesta taunt me all the time, Azriel won’t even look at me

Waiting until the house is quiet I take my bag and head out to the front door about to leave by I feel a tug on my ankle and wrist, I turn seeing shadows trying to pull me back in

“I’m sorry little guys I’ve got to go” they loosen just enough for me to get out of their grasps and leave walking out into the late night, the streets are empty and chilly

“And what’re you doing?” I hear behind me making me stop sending a shiver down my body

I turn seeing Azriel of course the shadows would tel him

“Leave me alone, you’ve done a good job of that so far why stop me now” I keep walking not even knowing where I’m going

“You have no where to go” he says now walking next to me

“Like you care” I sigh

“Why wouldn’t i” I stop and turn to him

“Just give it up Az, you can’t stand me, you don’t talk to me or even look my way, all you can do is ogle Elain and what’s so good about her hmm?”

“She’s having a hard time”

“She’s having a hard time? Can’t you feel it, can’t you see how I’ve been drowning every second and you don’t even feel me” his eyebrows furrow in confusion

“You never told me your problems”

“I shouldn’t have to you should feel them Az, hell the shadows can, they visit me every night”

“They do?”

“Yes but you didn’t even realize right? I’m not waiting around just to watch you fall in love with my own sister” I brush past him but he catches my wrist

“What’re you saying”

“YOURE MY MATE AZRIEL” the night becomes even more silent as he just looks at me

“Why didn’t you tell me” his voice gentle now

“Seriously? You know why”

“I’m…..I’m sorry just give me a chance” I pull my arm back

“I need time az, you’ve hurt me too much”

•

Part.2

[chris-bandicoot]

MattTheMunch | M.S

wc: too much to count

warnings: smut, established relationship, swearing, pusspuss eating, not proofread, i think thats all…

bg info: You and Matt had been taking things slow—careful, intentional steps closer to something more. It started with heated touches and breathless moments: his hands exploring your body, fingers teasing your nipples until you were squirming beneath him; your hand stroking him through moans and quiet gasps; the way he made you fall apart with just his fingers and a whispered promise against your skin. And through it all, there were those intimate, almost reverent kisses that lingered long after they ended. You hadn’t had sex yet—both of you wanted it to feel right, not rushed—but you were ready to take another step. So with your heart beating just a little faster, you asked if he’d go down on you. (also, forgot to mention that ur like wearing a big t-shirt with no pants on, i dont feel like editing it in tho bc its so late and im tired 💔)

The sheets were tangled around their legs, warm from the weight of their bodies and the soft heat that came from being skin to skin—even if they weren’t naked. You were curled against Matt’s chest, his arm slung lazily over your waist, fingers tracing slow circles on the small of your back. It was quiet in the room, the kind of quiet that only existed when you were so comfortable with someone that silence didn’t feel empty.

You guys had done this before—kisses that turned deeper, touches that lingered, tension that built until it almost hurt. But there were lines they hadn’t crossed yet. Not all of them.

You rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can I ask you something?”

Matt blinked down at her, eyebrows raising slightly. “Yeah?”

Your voice dropped, sultry and soft, almost like you were testing the waters. (corny mofo alert) “Have you ever thought about… you, um, going down on me?”

Matt froze.

Just for a second.

The air between the both of you shifted immediately. He blinked again, slower this time, like your question had knocked the breath out of him.

“I mean,” you added quickly, your hand smoothing over his stomach, “we have to start somewhere…”

“You really want me to?” he asked, quieter now, like the words held weight.

Your answer was a soft, “Yes.”

His hands trembled slightly as he slowly lifted the hem of the shirt you were wearing, revealing your thighs inch by inch. He swallowed hard, eyes locked onto yours, searching for any sign that you wanted him to stop. But all he saw was trust and warmth. No fear. No hesitation.

He spread your thighs gently, settling between them. He could feel the heat through the thin fabric of his boxers. He hooked his fingers on the edge of your shirt and slowly dragged it up even higher, revealing your stomach, your ribcage, your breasts...

He paused, his fingers resting on your hips as he looked at your bare stomach. He looks up at your face, his eyes searching yours for permission to go further. You looked back at him, breath hitching, lips parted. He took that as a silent 'yes'.

He slowly dragged the shirt up further. He paused again, his thumbs hooking under the edge of the shirt, waiting. You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over your head, revealing you completely to him.

His eyes roamed over your body, drinking you in. You’re perfect. He thought, overwhelmed by the beauty in front of him.

He slowly trailed kisses down your chest, between your breasts, making you arch your back and whisper his name. He ignored the ache in his lower belly that begged him to hurry, to touch you where he really wanted to. He had to go slow.

He cupped your breasts gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. You gasp as your hands grip the sheets beside you. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand massaged the other breast.

He licked and sucked, slowly building your pleasure. Each swipe of his tongue, each gentle bite sent sparks of electricity through your body. He switched to your other breast, giving it the same exquisite attention. Your breathing grew heavier, more urgent. One of your hands found its way into his hair, gripping tight.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lower belly, his hands spreading your thighs wider. He knew you were wet. He could hear your soft whimpers, see your body arching slightly. He knew you were ready. But he still went slow.

He parted your folds gently with his thumbs, revealing your pink, glistening center. He blew a soft breath against your sensitive flesh, making you shudder. He looked up at your face again, seeing your eyes squeezed shut, lips parted in anticipation. He smiled to himself before lowering his head.

He tasted you slowly, his tongue parting your folds, collecting your wetness. He groaned softly at your taste. He licked slowly, paying attention to every fold, every ridge. He avoided your clit on purpose, teasing you mercilessly. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more pressure where you needed it most. But he held your thighs firmly, keeping you pinned, denying you the release you craved.

"Please," You whimpered, your voice high and needy. He looked up at you, his face wet with yourk arousal, his eyes dark with desire. He smiled slowly, wickedly. "Patience, love."

He continued his lazy licks, his hands spreading you wider, his thumbs spreading you apart to reveal your sensitive nub. You moaned loudly, your head thrown back, your hands gripping the pillow beside you. He finally gave you what you wanted - his tongue flicked over your clit.

He flicked your clit slowly, his tongue circling it, pressing on it, teasing it. He used just the right amount of pressure, knowing exactly what you needed without you even having to ask. He felt your legs shaking on either side of his head, your moans growing louder, more desperate.

You gasped. He hummed against your pussy, the vibration sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He focused on that one spot, his tongue working fast and hard.

You screamed his name, your body convulsing as you came hard against his mouth. He didn't stop, he kept licking, kept sucking, drawing out your orgasm until you were a shuddering, whimpering mess on the bed. Only then did he slow down, pressing gentle kisses to your inner thighs.

He straightened up slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Your pleasure was smeared across his face - the ultimate sign of intimacy. You stared up at him, chest heaving, your usual composed demeanor shattered by the intensity of your release.

"Better?" he teased softly, crawling back up your body to kiss your neck. You could taste herself on his lips, a reminder of what he'd just done to You. You blushed deeply, biting your lip. "Shut up," you muttered, still trying to catch your breath.

He chuckled softly, nuzzling into your neck, his body pressing against yours. "No, that’s something you need to work on" he teased gently, referencing your loud cries of pleasure. You playfully hit his chest weakly, too satisfied to muster any real force.

author’s note: second fanfic ever, first smut everrrrrr. go easy on me, ik its absolutely donkey dick🙏 this lowk felt weird, never wrote something explicit like this before😭 also, plzzzz give recommendations, im not creative

masterlist

[silassinclair]

Hi! It's me the "Maddox with a sassy y/n" annon. Omg i just saw your post and it made my Whole Week! 😭

Thank you so much!

Anyway, i have a new request (if that is alright). I saw that you have a yandere Boxer but i didn't see to much info on him.

Could we get an introduction or some information for him? I'm really curious.

As always, have great day/night! ✨

Sorry this took a while to answer, just came back from the Philippines and I saw this req in my inbox. I’ve been waiting to write for him so now I have the chance to!! Hope you like it :D Also the beginning of this is really long, boring, and angsty but bear with me ya'll :) Also the Russian is google translate so it may be inaccurate :(

Masterlist Here!!

Next Part Here!!

Yandere Boxer x Reader

Viktor Markov was not the man you thought he was; well, not anymore. You both were raised in a small eastern European town. Him being the boy next door; always covered in dirt and was the sweetest little boy who would bring you flowers and bugs that he found. And you were the weird little girl who would collect the rocks and flowers that he gifted you with a smile. So naturally the two of you became friends, two peas in a pod.

He always had your back and you always had his. Growing up together in eastern Europe was hard. Both of you came from a pretty rough neighborhood and home life but that didn't stop you two from being happy. After all you only needed each other. It was just you two against the world. And it was like that for years.

Well, that was until high school. Viktor stopped talking to you in Sophomore year. Your calls went ignored, socials un-interacted, and texts delivered. So you just gave up. You no longer chased after him or begged him to tell you what was wrong when all he did was give you a cold shoulder. And honestly, you just didn't want to be around him anymore.

He got in with a bad crowd. Some upperclassmen guys who would just skip class to smoke. And seeing your childhood best friend become one of them broke your heart. You tried, you really did. But instead the blonde snapped at you, telling you to stop acting like his Mother and that he didn't need you anymore. And he was right, Viktor was more grown up now. Hard jawline, firm muscles, and standing at a staggering 6'3 feet tall.

He didn't need your back anymore.

And you didn't need his.

High school was a blur. You kept to your studies and only had a small circle of friends that consisted of all girls who have all been friends longer than before you ever came around. You were the grass friend. They all walked on the sidewalk while you trailed behind to the side; always stepping in the mud and grass. They weren't really your friends, you just didn't want to be alone. And they didn't see you as a friend, they just didn't want you to be alone. Pitiful isn't it?

But none of it mattered. It was all over and done in the blink of an eye. After high school was university and in university was medical school and after medical school was a new beginning. Being a docotor was never really your dream. It was your parent's dream and they just wanted the best for their little girl. You didn't want to disapoint them and go to culinary school like what you really wanted. So you worked and went to med school at the same time.

It was hard. It really was. You have no friends, no social life, and no one has your back. Yet it's your job to have people's backs. Ironic and unfair. But that's life.

Money was getting tight. Paying off student loans and working multiple jobs was getting exhausting. Living? No, it felt like you were dying. But you got offered a job you could not refuse. A patient came into your office. It was an older man in his early 50s.

"You're quite quiet for a doctor." He says. "Shy thing are you?"

You give him a silent nod. Hopefully this conversation doesn't take the turn you don't want it to take. Getting harassed by patients as a woman doctor is scarily common.

"I need a doctor. One like you; diligent, quiet, and quite the eye candy. Work for me krasivyy (beautiful). The pay is better than working in this heap clinic."

You eye him oddlyand whisper, "Why do you need me? Do you want me to be one of those underworld doctors or something? If so then no. I won't be patching up assassins or serial killers."

The man laughs, his voice booming in the small examination room.

"No no. You won't be dealing with any of those type. But this still is underground as you say. I own an underground boxing ring. And I need a doctor to patch up my fighters. Illegal, but good pay no?

You thought about it for two minutes then finally gave your answer.

“When do I start?”

The man’s name is Radko. And right now you’re in his gym. It’s dark, stinky, and full of shirtless men training for their next match. You thought you felt out of place in school? Nope, this is 100x worse. And some of these guys are acting like they’ve never seen a woman before.

“Stop looking at me like that weirdo.” You think to yourself while walking past a guy on a bench who’s wiping the sweat off his chest. His hungry gaze on you sends shivers down your spine.

“Ignore their stares.” Radko puts a rough hand on your shoulder. “They’re not used to seeing pretty women.”

“Yeah I can see that.” You mutter.

You two stop in front of the door near the back of the gym. It says “Clinic” in front of the door. He opens the door and you’re greeted with a surprisingly clean office. Radko must have cleaned up a little when he knew you would be coming.

“This is where you’ll be. Some guys will walk in pretty roughed up. Just patch em up abd send them on their way. If any of em try anything with you, you tell me right away. Okay?”

Radko was like a Dad and you liked that about him. A pretty intimidating Dad who owns an illegal boxing ring but what does that matter. Doesn’t particularly make him a bad person.

“Okay. Thank you.” You say with a warm smile.

“Ah you’re so milyy (cute)! Please don’t quit within the first week, I don’t think my heart can handle it if you go.” Radko says and hugs you. You give the big man a pat on the back in return.

“I’ll leave you to it now. You’ll receive your pay bi-weekly. See you now.”

And with that you were left alone. You were left in a small private clinic you could call your own. Maybe this job wouldn’t be as bad as you thought? But all positive thoughts flew out the window when your first patient of the day walked in.

Tall, pale, short blonde hair, scarred torso, muscle on muscle, and piercing blue eyes. All features of someone whom you thought you would never see again. Who you never wanted to see again.

“Kroshechnyy?” (Tiny)

God that nick name. There was a time it would make you smile and laugh. But now it just pissed you off. He had the audacity to call you that as if you two were still buddy buddy? No, fuck that. Fuck him.

“It’s Y/n to you now. What do you want Viktor?”

The man’s face creased with pain. Not physical, no, something worse.

“What are you doing here? This place isn’t for you.” His voice was a deeper timbre from when you last spoke to him Sophomore year. He walks closer to you and you can smell his sweat from training but also… Jean Paul Gaultier? Why would you wear designer fragrance at a gym? Weirdo.

Little did you know when he saw you walk in the gym he immediately raced to the locker room to freshen up and see you.

“I’m a doctor. I got a side job from Radko.” You explain swiftly. “If you’re uninjured then please leave. Other patients may come in with actual reasons to see me.”

Rather than face to face you’re face to chest with him. How the hell did he get so tall? You crane your neck up to meet his eyes.

His expression stiffens. His usual cold demeanor returns.

“You shouldn’t be here. This place isn’t for you. It’s dangerous.”

You roll your eyes. “I think I can manage. Now please leave me alone. You’re the last person I ever want to see.”

Viktor ignores the comment and his gaze remains ice cold. You nearly shiver, did the room temperature drop?

“Stop acting childish. Tell Rad that you quit.”

“But I’m not quitting.”

He steps closer.

“I’ll make you.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

He bends down to your level and scoffs.

“I don’t need to lift a finger. You’ll get scared and run off with your tail between those little legs of yours. These men here will eat you alive.”

Did he not think you knew that before you signed up for all this? You were aware of what you walked into. Underground gym, surrounded by men, all physically fit to the max. They could rip you in half. But you needed this job. There wasn’t time to be afraid.

“Yeah yeah I know. I don’t need your lecture. Now get out before I tell Radko.”

Viktor leans closer. His nose mere centimeters from yours.

“Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.”

“If I get hurt then I’ll just patch myself up. I didn’t go through 4 years of med school just to cry when I’m in pain.”

The tall Russian growls lowly to himself and leaves, not before slamming the door of course.

“Fuck…”

This new job of yours just got worse tenfold.

It’s been about two weeks since you started working here. And you’ve met all of Radko’s men. They weren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Yeah they would flirt with you but not in the gross way. They knew when to quit.

Well, all of them except for Vladimir. The same one who eyed you like a piece of meat the first day you came here. Everyday he would come to the clinic to shoot his shot. And everyday you turned him down.

“Little kotenok (kitten) is still feisty.” Vladimir clicks his tongue. He manspreads in the examination chair, flexing his ab muscles and turning his head to the side to show off his impressive jawline. But all it does is un-impress you.

“If you’re going to waste my time like this everyday then I’m going to tell Radko.” You firmly state and cross your arms.

Like a kicked puppy the boxer whines, “Nooooo. I’m sorry please don’t kick me out. This is the only room besides Coach’s that is air conditioned.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Not my problem, do an ice bath or something.”

Vladimir chuckles and goes to say something else but stops himself when he sees and hears the door open. You also turn your attention to the door, wondering who it is and why they didn’t knock.

“Get out.” Viktor says. His voice like stone, as is his glare. His bloody swollen eye only ads to his intimidating aura.

Vladimir gets out of the chair and groans. “Way to be a cockblock Vicky.” He says mockingly.

You were about to shoot in and say how there was no way you would give him the light of day but Viktor had other plans. His fist makes contact with Vladimir’s abdomen with a mean punch. Making the other man wheeze and keel over in pain.

“Get the fuck out.” Viktor grabs him by the hair and kicks him out of the office. Literally. The door then slams shut, leaving you alone with your heated childhood friend.

“Thanks…” You mutter. Unable to look into his eyes, well… eye. The other is swollen shut.

He grunts and sits on the examination bed. Getting into doctor mode you walk over to Viktor and assess the damage. There’s a few bruises on his ribs but his eyes seem to be the worst. Delicately you touch part of the bruised eye and he inwardly flinches, making you draw your hand back in an instant.

“What happened?” You softly ask.

“Alexei sucker punched me. Dick.”

You stifle a laugh, making your patient deadpan. “Typical Alexi. I’ll tell him off the next time he comes in here complaining about his stomach aches.”

Viktor and you are silent when you rub ointment on his bruises. After the ointment is all done you hand him an icepack.

“Use this for the eye.”

He nods and thanks you with a silent nod. Then, he leaves just like that.

After that you would see more of Viktor and less Vladimir. To be honest you’ve been seeing less of everyone. Everyday Viktor came in with new reasons to come to you. Headaches, head trauma, bruises, scratches, and the worst was a dislocation.

“What is it this time?” You don’t even need to face the door to know who it is.

“He needs help!”

You whip around immediately, nearly spilling your coffee. You see Alexi and Cain at the door and draped over their shoulders is an unconscious Vladimir. You run over to them and tell them to lay Vladimir down on the bed gently while you assess his condition.

“What happened!?” You say worriedly. He was barely breathing. You begin doing chest compressions.

“We found him outside. Some of those bastards from west gym probably did this to him…” Cain says, his eyes are full of rage.

The compressions aren’t working. So instead you ready up the life support. He won’t last long with traumatic brain injuries like this.

“What’s gonna happen to him Doc?” Alexi sounds the most worried. He’s just a kid, only being 17.

“I’m putting him under life support.” And it was damn hard to do it on your own.

“Thank you.” Cain says. He puts a hand on the small of Alexi’s back. “Let’s leave her alone. She’s busy.”

The two men leave. Leaving you alone with Vladimir who has one foot in hell. No offense Vladimir, but no way you’re going to heaven. All day you stay by Vladimir’s side. Other men come in to check on him or get patch ups. And you go about your job, leaving the unconscious man to rest on the bed.

If I knew she would be stuck to his side like glue then I never would have beaten the fucker half to death. The plan was to kill him but the stubborn bastard just didn’t want to die. I watch Y/n from outside the clinic. The window’s blinds are open. She’s so close yet so far; always out of my reach. Part of it is my fault. I was the one who pushed her away after all.

But I had no choice. I didn’t want her involved with the people I was involved with in high school. I needed them in order to get some side jobs. Hell, a couple of them box for Radko too at this gym. I thought Y/n would be gone from my life for good, but I was wrong. I thought God was punishing me for the things I have done but it seems like he took pity on me just this once by bringing her back to me and letting me have a second chance.

But so far I’m making no progress. What even is love? I know I love her but I don’t know how. All I know is that I need to protect her from all the wolves here. I already staked my claim on her but one fucker didn’t want to listen. Vladimir, that egotistical thorn in my side. The next chance I get I'll kill him for good. It's not like this is my first time killing for her after all.

High school was when I first took someone's life. Some upperclassman bitch was harassing Y/n. I couldn't stand watching her suffer. And I couldn't comfort her like before when we were young; by this time I already cut off Y/n for good. But I knew there was something I could do. So I killed her. And I killed anyone who dared breathe Y/n's name wrong.

I'll do whatever I can to protect the love of my life. Slowly, little by little, I'll win her back. She'll be mine again and we'll be even closer than friends. But for now I'll do what I can to keep her safe from the sidelines. Even if it means she'll find out and hate me forever.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

If I Ask Nicely

Steven Grant x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 22: Voice Kink

Summary: Steven uses your appreciation for his voice to his complete advantage.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). One day I'm sure someone is going to psychoanalyse me based on my fics. Then I'll be in trouble.

Warnings: voice kink, kissing, fingering, lube, dildos, double penetration, Steven just running his mouth, bit of soft dom! Steven, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1299

Part of you is sure you should have never told Steven that you liked the sound of his voice so much.

Because the second he found out he used it to his complete advantage, batting his eyes at you and asking sweetly for things. It was innocent, at first, just testing the waters. But it quickly dissolved into him being as cheeky as possible when you were both alone. 

Which is how you found yourself completely naked, your back against his warm chest, your hands in his. He moved your fingers to where he wanted them, whispering filth into your ear. 

“That's it love, that's it. Being so good for me.” He kisses your neck lightly and you whine. 

“Keep touching yourself, yeah?” He keeps one hand on your breast and the other between your spread legs. “Feels so good, doesn't it?” 

You gasp and nod, rocking back slightly to feel his heavy cock pressed between your bodies. 

“If I knew you liked my voice this much I would have made you do so many things sooner.” He chuckles as he rubs your fingers against your clit in soft circles, delighting when you jump and gasp. 

“Want to make you all wet beforehand.” He breathes heavily, “Want to slip in so easy.” 

Steven groans as he moves his fingers down, teasing your entrance.

“Steven,” you moan, your back arching.

“That's it, love, you keep playing here.” He taps your fingers against your clit. “And I'll play here, hmm? Sounds good? I know it does.” 

You whine, throwing your head back against his shoulder as he presses the tip of two fingers inside, but doesn't go any deeper. 

“God, you're so wet.” His breath is warm against your skin, a deep growl to his words. “Want you to be fucking soaking. Can you do that love? Can you do that for me?” 

You nod, gasping as you rub your clit, your thighs shivering as he slips a little deeper, rewarding you.

 “Oh, so good love, so good for me.” He groans, “Gonna lube you up after this, want you so slippery, want to fuck you so hard and fill you up and then fuck you again.” 

You writhe in his arms, moaning loudly as he curls his fingers, stroking against your walls in a come hither motion. 

“Oh!” You sob, shaking. 

“That so good? You gonna come just from a tiny touch? I think you are.” He purrs and nips at the shell of your ear. He rubs his erection slightly against your backside, groaning as the pleasure spirals in his stomach. 

You manage to moan his name, so close you can taste it, shivering in his touch. 

“Stop, stop,” he whispers, moving his fingers out of you and taking your hand in his.

You whine, tears at the corners of your eyes. “Please.” 

“Here, here,” he soothes, kissing your neck and wrapping one arm around you while he rummages in the bedside table with the other. “So good love, so good.” He sucks lightly at your pulse point before he moves back a fraction. “Just a second love, one second.” 

He quickly pours lube all over his aching cock, hissing as he rubs the cool liquid down his weeping length and then puts his hands on your waist and helps you up and back. 

“Just stay there one second,” he groans, spreading your lips apart with this thumb and chuckling when you shiver. He presses his tip against you, slowly sinking in and moaning when you gasp. 

“Being so good for me.” He repeats and breathes deeply as he guides you down, panting as you stretch and pulse around his cock. 

You bite your lip, your breath robbed from you as you sink, swallowing more and more of his thick length. “Steven,” you whine, unable to help yourself. 

Most of the time you called him by pet names, but you knew how much he loved you saying his name in the bedroom.

He hisses as he bottoms out, pulling you back to rest against him and mouthing at your neck once more. “You gonna be good?” He mutters, breathing hard.

You whine an affirmative. 

“Good, god you’re so nice and wet, make me just want to fill you up right now,” he takes the dildo he pulled out from the drawer in his right hand and coats it just as liberally in lube.

You watch him, hypnotised by how he strokes it. 

“You gonna take it?”

You nod, swallowing eagerly and he groans again, his eyes rolling back.

“So fucking sexy, you know that?” He holds the dildo in his right hand and rubs your clit with his lubed left fingers, easing down to lightly stroke at where you’re split open and where the base of his cock just rests inside. 

Steven slowly spreads you a little wider, teasing one finger into you and grinning when you shudder. “Just tell me if it’s too much, love, okay?” 

You nod, “okay.” 

“Good, good,” he kisses your temple and pushes the tip of the dildo against your pussy, just above his heavy cock. 

You gasp as he starts to ease it inside, your back arching as you're stretched so wide. It’s almost painful, almost too much. The sensation burning on your tongue but igniting a deep ache in your chest. 

“Oh, you’re doing so well love, so well.” Steven groans, easing the dildo in slowly an inch then out half an inch and repeat. “This is what it would feel like if Marc or Jake could be here physically too, god we’d all stuff you so full.” 

You moan, your hips bucking forward. 

Steven wriggles, shivering as you squeeze and the ribbed silicon of the dildo rubs up against his cock. When it finally rests completely inside he breathes out deeply. 

“God,” he places sloppy kisses all over your shoulder, “feels amazing, you okay love?” 

You nod, rocking your hips ever so slightly. “Please Steven, I want…” “Want to come?” 

You nod again.

He chuckles, “You’d let me do anything wouldn’t you, if I asked?” 

“Yes.” You whine. 

“Fuck.” He hisses as he begins to pump the dildo in and out of your slowly, revelling in how it drags along both of you, how you pulse and gasp and rock in his arms. 

“Next time we’ll get one inside me too yeah? Get us both really full.” He groans, “Would you like that?” He bites his lip, unable to stop the words from falling out now he’s started. “One of those remote vibrating ones and you can hold the controls and, fuck, be in charge of that while I fuck you and-”

You moan loudly, your limbs shaking and tensing as he presses the dildo deliciously against your walls, making you scream.

“Oh love, that’s it, that’s it, come on, give it to me, let me have it.” He groans, rocking you faster.

You grab hold of any part of him you can reach, whining at spasming as pleasure washes over you, going lightheaded as he pants and whispers in your ear. 

You feel him tense and Steven swears as he follows you, pumping you full of hot thick cum. 

He nuzzles into your neck as he slowly eases the dildo, and himself, out of you, comforting you as you whine softly, and helps you onto your back on the mattress. 

He softly kisses your lips, grinning when you wrap your arms around his neck and he settles between your legs.

Gently, he takes his semi hard cock in hand and delicately begins to ease it back inside of you. 

You moan softly, the sensation not uncomfortable but unexpected. Yet, in spite of that, you still crave it.

“Shh love, it’s okay, you’ll let me, if I ask nicely, won’t you?” 

Thank you for reading!

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[pomefioredove]

HIYYYAAAA

JUST SAW THE FLRITY PROMPTS EVENT!

What do you say about Lilia with "Don't bite your lip, I want to do that."

I would say hgghh💕💖❤️

summary: "don't bite your lip, I want to do that" type of post: short fic characters: lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is kinda implied to be yuu but doesn't have to be, not proofread, Lilia is shamelessly flirty thank u a part of this event

There are very few things that still manage to catch Lilia by surprise.

At his age, he's simply running out of new experiences; school, politics, even the wonderful world of the internet have started becoming monotonous and boring, leaving him in a slump.

Perhaps, then, that's why he's taken such an interest in you.

Such an intriguing little creature, he thinks, watching you from the shadows of the Diasomnia lounge.

You'd come by to drop something off for Malleus, the sweet thing that you are, and, once again, Lilia finds himself shamelessly staring.

He knows he shouldn't, but, oh, he truly can't help himself!

He inches closer. Lilia can't help but wonder what sort of noise you'll make when he startles you this time. A gasp? A shout, perhaps? Maybe even a cute little squeak... the thought of that is strangely exciting to him.

Only one way to find out.

He drops out of the shadows, blocking you from the exit just as you turn towards it. "Hello!"

And... Nothing.

You smile. "Ah... hello again, Lilia. Did Malleus tell you I was coming?"

His arms fall to his sides with a pout. Nothing? Nothing at all? You look at him like he has something stuck in his teeth.

"He may have mentioned," Lilia sighs. "You're impossible to tease these days. It's quite disappointing, really."

You smile slightly, much to his bemusement. He hates letting you have the upper hand... "Maybe I've started anticipating your pranks. You'll just need to find some new material,"

New material...? He scoffs. You're not even the least bit concerned about him!

"It used to be so easy to get a rise out of you. Humans change far too fast," he laments.

"Now I'll never get to see that flustered look on your face ever again! Or I'll have to come up with something new to tease you with..."

"Orrrr... you could just not tease me at all?"

He chuckles, shaking his head as if you had just said something ridiculous. "With your precious reactions? Impossible!"

You sigh.

Lilia tuts, tapping his chin as if lost in deep thought. He circles you once, twice, then stops in front of you.

"I can't think of anything," he sighs dramatically. "It'll come to me later... Is that uniform new?"

"Oh, uh..." you mutter, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. You turn around yourself in a circle. How cute.

"Well, it's the same uniform, but I got my measurements taken at Pomefiore, and they they got me a better fitting one."

"I can tell,"

He hums pleasantly, dragging his eyes over your body. "They did a wonderful job accentuating your features,"

You huff and look away, much to his delight, clearly taken by surprise by his change in tone.

"...Thank you,"

"Fufufu. Don't mention it," Lilia says, eyes narrowing. "You don't get complimented very much, do you?"

"Not regularly,"

"I could surmise as much. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're almost flustered by little old me. Is that right?"

Hook, line, and sinker. Your eyes widen as you realize that you've walked right into his trap. "Oh, no, no. I'm not. I'm fine!"

"Really? Don't get shy on me, now. I'm beginning to like this even more than scaring you,"

He takes a step forward, drinking in the sight of you, your body's nervous reactions to his teasing. "How cute,"

"Tease," you say, biting the corner of your lip.

You back yourself against the wall of the lounge, to his absolute delight, and he takes that as an invitation to get closer.

"That I am," Lilia admits without a hint of shame. "But don't bite your lip... I want to do that."

That long sought-after squeak finally escapes you, music to his ears, and he leans closer. For a moment, it seems like he's about to close the distance between you... then, at the last second, he pulls back.

He chuckles. "Oh, what fun! I haven't felt so young in ages. But I do have other business to attend to,"

And so, Lilia leaves you stunned, trembling against the wall as he merrily walks off before you seem to come to your senses.

"Vanrouge, you little shit! Get back here!"

A slight giggle escapes him as he starts off running, with you not far behind. He was right; this is much, much more rewarding than scaring you.

Maybe, if you make another one of those cute noises, he'll even let you catch him.

[channiesluvrclub]

ᴇxᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ - ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴏᴘʜᴇʀ ʙᴀɴɢ

A/n: I'm so sorry that this took so long to write, my schedule has been jam packed. Enjoy!

Info/TW: Husband!Chan, Fem!reader, Reader calls Bangchan "Channie", Mentions of divorce, Make up sex, Reader does inflict slight self harm!scratching, Aftercare.

WC: 3.0k

You and Bangchan had been married for around 4 years, it was your anniversary tonight. He would usually take you out to dinner every year, it was always fancy and extravagant. Things were different this year. You two had argued the day before, it was heated. It probably broke so many aspects of your marriage. It was about 11:00, the sun was shining through the sheer curtains of your bedroom. Bangchan had already left for work, the sheets were tangled and there wasn’t a sweet card sitting on the bedside table for you. Your heart ached at the unfamiliar scene. The argument replayed in your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You two were sitting in the kitchen of your house, the soft glow of the lamp in the corner of the room illuminating his face. He looked at you with a tinge of annoyance on his face. The tips of his ears were red as he sighed. Bangchan slammed his fists on the table, rattling the silverware. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He looked away, breathing heavily. You could only look down into your lap.

He raised his voice. “You are helpless, you don’t do anything around the house anymore. You don’t cook or clean. You can’t even give me a good time. You are a worthless wife!” Bangchan’s face was now red with anger, vein bulging from his neck. Tears began to spill from your eyes, you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak back. The ring on your finger gleamed in the light as  you fidgeted with it. With harsh and heavy feelings, you carefully slid the ring off of your finger, placing it on the table in front of Bangchan.

Your voice shook as you stared at the ring and looked up to meet Bangchan’s eyes. “Take it and keep it, you clearly don’t love me enough for me to be wearing this.” Bangchan grew silent, just staring at the ring. He carefully picked it up, looking at it carefully before snapping out of his trance when he heard your seat scoot back. You walked off to the bedroom, leaving him alone in the dimly lit kitchen.

You blinked your eyes, the memory of last night's argument slowly fading. It was like deja vu. You looked at your left hand, the empty spot on your ring finger pained you to look at. Before you could even get up out of the bed, you spotted something on the dresser across the room. You got up, walking over while rubbing your eyes. It was a small note, lying next to it was Bangchan’s wedding band. Your heart shattered into pieces as you picked up the wedding band. Your hands trembled as you held it close to your sternum. After a few minutes of trying not to cry, you set the ring down, finally bringing yourself to pick up the handwritten note. It read “I hope you see this and take the time to read it, I just cannot take this. I used to be happy with you but this is just not working out. You don’t serve any purpose to me anymore. I’m leaving, please keep the ring or do what you want with it. I’ll be coming back later to get my things after work.” Tears welled in your eyes as you sank to the floor, back against the dresser

Despite the fact that you had argued, you missed him dearly. Bangchan had been your husband for so long and the fact that he was leaving just because you weren't “good enough” felt like someone stabbing you straight through your heart. You still loved him and you prayed that he would change his mind. As the hours went on you could only sit in your bed and cry. Your body was covered in scratch marks from where you had gotten chills and scratched yourself relentlessly. You were only wearing a small slip dress from Victoria's Secret, it only covered your torso. You had dark circles under your eyes. A normal day usually wouldn’t take a toll on you like this but the lack of food and extensive crying had absolutely drained you. The sun had started to set, the light fading from the room, the house was completely silent.

You were propped against the headboard, knees pulled to your chest. The ringing in your ears only got louder as the thought of Bangchan flooded your head. It was now 9:00 at night, it was almost pitch black besides the streetlights. And here you were, still frozen in pain and shock. The door to the bedroom swung open, you didn’t dare to look up. You already knew it was Bangchan. What you didn’t expect was for the mattress to sink in, a pair of warm arms scoping you up and holding you against a firm torso. He whispered in your ear as he held you close. “I’m so sorry babe… I realized how badly I messed up. I love you and I wouldn’t trade you for the world.” He gently grabbed your hand placing your ring back on your finger.

You pulled back to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. He clearly hadn’t gone to work, it looked like he went to the bar. He had drunk his feelings away, probably crying while doing so. You had both made a very obvious mistake. He carefully placed his hands on your shoulders, dragging them down your arms and carefully grazing your scratch marks. “Babe, what did you do to yourself?” His eyes were saddened as he looked at your scratched up body, partially covered by your short slip dress. Bangchan gently kissed your shoulder, pulling you back into his chest. All he wanted to do in the moment was to show you how much he loved you. The room was silent, all you could hear was the sound of the two of you breathing. You whispered in response to his question. “I don't know… I was itchy I guess.” He sighed quietly.

He then laid you down on the bed, the straps on your slip falling off of your shoulder. Bangchan smiled at you, brushing some of your hair behind your ear.  “Babe, I’m really sorry for leaving. I realized how much I need you. I regret everything I said, please let me show you how much I love you.” Tears were threatening to spill from his waterline, his eyes glassy and full of affection. You nodded, staring up at him. Speaking almost felt pointless, you could tell that the regret was so deep that you two only needed emotion to communicate in this moment. 

Bangchan carefully took your slip off of you, admiring your delicate body, covered in scratches. He leaned down, peppering your collar and shoulders with kisses. Your body shuddered at his touch, it felt different this time. He carefully cupped your face, pressing a kiss to your lips. His motions were filled with care and remorse. He had probably thought that you wouldn’t forgive him. Before you could even respond, he was getting off of the bed, turning on the lamp in the corner of the room so he could see you better. Bangchan then walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge, pulling you near him. He carefully rubbed your thighs, his warm hand roaming over your cold skin. “You sure you’re okay with this so soon after we argued?” He asked, wide eyes and sorrow in his voice.” You nodded, looking him in the eyes. “I need words babe..” He looked down at you, waiting for you to give him verbal confirmation. “Yeah… I missed you.” you whispered quietly.

Bangchan smiled at you before placing you further back on the bed against the pillows while he scooted himself onto the bed. He then sat against the pillows next to you before pulling you onto his lap. He carefully grabbed your thigh, spreading your legs slightly. The cold air hit your core, you flinched, trying to close your legs. “Sorry babe, that’s not an option.” Bangchan whispered into your ear, holding your legs open by your thigh. You laid your head back on his shoulder, letting out a small whine. His hand rubbing your inner thigh was increasingly teasing. You could feel yourself getting more aroused by the moment, your fluids probably coating your core with a glossy sheen by now.

Bangchan slid his hand closer to your core, his middle finger gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good babe?” He asked, his voice covering up your quiet whimpers of pleasure. You nodded helplessly. He continued to rub your clit, occasionally dipping his ring finger in to tease your entrance. “More please…” You managed to mumble out, you were overwhelmed with pleasure and emotion. Bangchan smiled, adding his ring finger into the mix. He then took both of his fingers, moving them from your clit to circle your entrance. You pushed your hips down onto his fingers, finally receiving the pleasure that you craved. He let out a sigh before looking down at you. “You’re just so needy, huh?” He curled his fingers slightly, his fingertips grazing over your walls caused you to let out a slightly louder moan than you would’ve liked to. Your face turned red due to the embarrassment. “Looks like someone missed me?” Bangchan raised his eyebrows. He then pressed a kiss to your cheek. Bangchan began to thrust his fingers in and out of them. He would curl them each time they were in you, they always hit that one gummy spot, making you see stars. You were practically shaking at this point, extremely close to your climax when he pulled his fingers out. “I say we take it a step further, hm?” He asked, a taunting tone in his voice. Your eyes lit up at the idea. 

He got off of the bed taking off his clothes. Bangchan opened the bedside table, grabbing some lube and a condom. He then rolled the condom on, coating it with a generous amount of lube. “Ready babe?” he looked over at you, a loving and nurturing smile on his face. “Yeah… I’m ready” You looked up, eyes meeting his. You couldn’t put how you felt in this moment into words even if you wanted to. You felt repented, but were also so welcome to the atmosphere. Bangchan got back onto the bed, hovering over you. He leaned down, placing a kiss to your lips before spreading your legs. He gave his length a few strokes with his fist before lining himself up with you. He began to carefully push into you, grunting as he did so. Even after prep, you were still so tight. Your walls hugged him in a way that made him see static. “Babe… you’re so tight, relax. I’m here, it’s me, I’m not leaving you again.” His voice was strangled but filled with comfort and reassurance. He clearly felt very bad and just wanted you to be comfortable around him.

Bangchan began to thrust in and out of you, his pace was slow and sensual. You closed your eyes, relishing yourself in the current moment. Your veins were pumping with an elated feeling, it felt so reassuring that Bangchan was here, showing you the love that you needed. You could hear his breathing intensify as he began to thrust into you faster. You reached your hands up, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face was red, filled with heat. Bangchan bit his lip, still carefully thrusting in and out of you. “Babe… do you feel good?” he spoke quietly through his deep breaths. He was being genuine with his question. You nodded to the best of your ability, speaking in a hushed tone. “Yes Channie, feels so good.” You let out a quiet whine as he hit that spongy spot in you. 

He smiled down at you, his hair was hanging in his eyes. He looked more beautiful than ever. He grunted as he pushed back into you, closing his eyes tightly. You could feel his hot seed fill the condom. He let out a slightly high pitched moan, it was one of the prettiest sounds you had ever heard him make. Bangchan pulled out of you, grabbing at the base of the condom. “Shit babe… give me one second to get a fresh condom. Can’t leave my pretty girl laying here with no orgasm, hm?” He sighed, grabbing another condom and sliding it on. He completely ignored the lube sitting on the bedside table. It was useless at this point, you were so wet with your own fluids, he could slide in so easily. “Babe, I’m not holding back. Gonna make you come so good all over my cock.” Bangchan spoke, his voice was slightly raspy. His chest and neck were red, sweat dripping from his forehead as he slid back into you. He began to pound into you at a pace you could barely comprehend. The tip of his cock repeatedly hit your G-spot. With a last effort of him rubbing your clit with his slightly calloused fingers, you came. Your orgasm washed over you so intensely. Long and breathy strings of moans escaped your throat. “There we go babe, you made such a mess of my cock.” He smiled, his thrusts slowing as he began to pull out. He hummed quietly before rolling over and laying on his side of the bed. “We should probably get cleaned up, it’s hot and sticky in here.” Bangchan groaned before getting off of the bed and discarding the condom that he was wearing.

He walked off to the bathroom, leaving you laying on the bed to process what had just happened. You thought to yourself for a moment. It was evident that he had really regretted what he had done last night, he loved you and he wasn’t going to let one argument ruin your marriage. You thought that this was his way of asking you to forgive him, he wanted you to feel the love he had for you. After a few minutes he came back from the bathroom, he was dressed in a black tank top and some grey shorts. Bangchan picked you up carefully, bridal style. “Let's get you taken care of, yeah?” He whispered into your ear as he sat you down in the bathtub. Bangchan has started a bath for you when he went into the bathroom earlier, along with wiping himself down so he could attend to you first. He began to carefully massage out the knots in your shoulders. The water was cold against your burning hot skin, it provided a slightly stinging sensation. He pressed a small kiss to your cheek, brushing your hair out of your face. Bangchan grabbed the bottle of body wash that was sitting on the ledge of the bathtub, carefully squeezing some onto the loofa. He began to gently scrub your body with the loofa, making sure to be careful with your most precious parts. “You know I love you babe, I didn’t mean anything I said last night. I was being careless.” He whispered as he continued to gently run his hands over your body. The warm water had now cooled, your body was also cooling down. Bancghan turned around for a moment to grab a towel as you responded. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have thrown my wedding ring at you. I was just overwhelmed with emotions and I didn’t mean to hurt you or make you feel like you had to leave. I love you so much channie and I hope you know that. I want us to be together for a very long time, hopefully until death. You’re my world and you mean everything to me.” You spoke, your voice was frail but filled with emotion. You were holding back tears.

Bangchan sat on the edge of the tub in silence, taking in your words carefully. He could feel his heart rate increase. He was madly in love with you and those reassuring words in the moment had him in shambles. He wasn’t quite sure how to react. Instead of saying anything Bangchan helped you out of the bathtub, drying you off and pressing a kiss to your lips. He walked off to the closet for a minute to grab some pajamas for you. After a few minutes Bangchan returned to the bathroom, one of his shirts in hand along with a pair of your panties. “Here babe, put these on.” He handed the clothes to you. While you were putting on the clothes he turned to the counter to grab your hairbrush. Bangchan walked back to the bedroom, signaling you to follow him. He sat down on the bed behind you, gently brushing through your wet hair. “Babe, I  love you so much, no matter how bad the argument is, I’ll always be with you. I made a promise on our wedding day and that was to be with you forever. I’m so sorry for leaving this morning. I hate that I made you feel abandoned.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of your shoulders. He sat the hairbrush down, laying down on his side of the bed as you laid down on yours. He turned to face you, staring into your eyes with orbs full of affection. You stared back at him, taking in his features. That was the man you loved, the one you chose to take care of you, love you, be there during your darkest times. You pledged to never let him go.

You hugged him tightly, closing your eyes. “I love you Channie.” you whispered to him. Bangchan hugged you back, keeping you safe in his warm embrace. “I love you too babe, promise we’ll talk this out next time?” He asked quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You nodded. “I promise we will.” He smiled and whispered. “I love you babe.” Before closing his eyes and pulling you closer to him

[aemondapologistfrfr]

His Princess - Pt7

fancast!bloody ben x targ!fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: The battle continues at Kings Landing as the dance begins in Harrenhal. When everything seems overwhelming there is a break on the horizon. Rhaenyra sends Y/n and Ben back to Harrenhal after they take Kings Landing to see the outcome. 

Warnings: 18+ battle/war, blades, blood, death, swearing, my version of the battle above gods eye(spoiler for the show bc it’s fr and it’s not cute) - mc but cannon death, beheading, alys spreading info like the gossip she is, after war and gossip oral(f receiving), fingering

Authors Note: hopefully the switching of the povs offers what I wanted it to!!!!, hate cole but i can’t deny he’s a good swordsman and would need at least two ppl to take him in a fight, i tried to keep gods eye minimal bc i can’t stand dragons fighting!!!, also daeron is not apart of this story bc i didn’t want another dragon to be hurt!

Word Count: 5.5k almost half of this is war

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n Pov:

“Find him,” I sob to Vermithor and his growls shake the walls around the city as Silverwing and I give out an earth shattering cry as we circle the host raining fire upon the Greens. 

Vermithor gives out a bone chilling roar and sprays fire along the Gods gate. I’m turning my head searching for any sign of Ben as Silverwing follows close to Vermithor. I take notice of Vermithors wound but it’s more of just a scratch and the bleeding has already ceased much to my relief. My adrenaline rises to match my fear as my heart pounds wildly in my chest as we continue our search for Ben. 

Vermithor circles around where I last saw Ben and begins to fly down to the ground. He sprays the ground in dragon flame before he lands on the burning men as Silverwing lands us in the center of the fire next to him. The warmth licks at my armor as I watch the flames die around me. As the haze clears I see Ben cutting down men around him in a frenzy. 

I sob in relief as I see him still in one piece and quickly slide off of Silverwing. I slip the sword from my back and go to Ben’s side. My blade becomes an extension of myself as my body goes into a killing calm. Everything around me fades away as I face man after man. As I turn to my next victim I can see the burnt scorpion behind the host. 

Cole emerges from the ruins and bodies offering me a bloody smile. Our dragons step closer to me and bare their teeth. Their low growls and chuffs vibrate the ground beneath us. Ben turns to me and sees Cole walking over to me and quickly makes it to my side. 

“You need two dragons and a whores daughter to stand against me?” Cole laughs to Ben bitterly spitting.

“You will still die in the end.” I hum raising my sword.

“We shall see.” he charges forward with his blade in front of him and I quickly fold backwards to avoid his swing. 

Ben comes from behind and strikes with his sword and Cole barely avoids the metal. I rise once again and try to catch Cole from behind but he is quick on his feet. The three of us dance with our blades as the war continues to wage around us. My nerves start to rise as I see our host getting overwhelmed as both of our dragons are grounded with us for the moment. 

This moment of thought has costed me dearly. Pain washes through the side of my face as blood trickles down my neck as Coles sword slices my flesh. I give out a loud cry and Silverwing screams with me. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Harrenhal Pov:

The clouds hang low in the sky as the smell of rain on the horizon washes over the ruined castle. The sky is preparing to weep for the dance that will soon take place. Fog begins to roll in from the forest line casting everything in a gray light.  

“You will die here today.” Alys appears through the foggy gates walking to Daemon and Caraxes.

“As long as I take Aemond with me, I care not.” Daemon pulls his helm on and makes sure everything is secure.

“So eager to die before you meet your grandchild?” Alys tilts her head with a small smile.

“They’ll be better off without me.” he mounts Caraxes and shoots into the sky. 

Daemon has had enough of Alys’ mind games and doesn’t even bat an eye at the insinuation of having grandchildren. He never saw himself living long enough to see his children or wife contented. He knows this is the last thing he will be able to give them and he hopes it’s enough to change the tides of the war. 

Daemon circles around Harrenhal keeping his eyes peeled for Vhagar and her one eyed rider. He’s growing impatient but he can feel the promise of death in the air. Caraxes perches on one of the towers as they await their fate. A low grumble comes from the distance and Vhagar comes into view from the clouds. 

Daemon shoots into the sky and lures them away from the castle. He doesn’t much care for this castle but he knows many Lords will ask Rhaenyra for it so it must remain standing. He leads Aemond over the body of water called Gods Eye.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n Pov:

As I rise to my feet Ben is relentlessly bashing his sword into Coles. The metal song promises death. I try to find an opening to help Ben once more but he has a glazed look over his eyes as he slams repeatedly into Cole. I watch on in shock as I’ve never seen Ben fight like this. Some of his men stop and watch on as this one on one continues. 

Our dragons grumble as some of Coles men stand and watch. It seems as if this part of the wall is on a pause as they wait to see what happens. I rip a piece of my shirt off from under my armor and wipe off the side of my face. The cut seems to start just under my eye and travels down to my jaw. The dirtied cloth stings but it helps staunch the blood. Ben lets out a mighty roar and swings his long sword and I gasp with widened eyes.

“Your Kingmaker.” Ben yells as he raises Coles head into the air. 

He dips down and grabs Coles foot and drags it to Vermithor who grabs his leg in his claws. He returns to me still gripping Coles head in his hands and I look to him as he’s breathing heavily. He turns my face and looks at my cut as his nostrils flare.

“I’m sorry.” he whispers as the men begin to look around unsure if we’re to keep fighting. “To Silverwing.” he nods his head and begins to usher me over before he goes to mount Vermithor. 

Vermithor and Silverwing shoot to the skies and give out victorious growls. I look down at Vermithors claws as Coles headless body is being paraded through the air. He slides low to the Green host and they falter as they take on the body hanging above them. 

“Your Kingmaker is dead and your King dies at Harrenhal.” Ben proclaims as we fly along the walls. 

A loud grumble comes from the clouds and my heart stops as I see a large shadow approaching. As the dragon comes into view I squint my eyes trying to figure out who it is. It’s not Vhagar or any other I’ve ever seen. Silverwing chirps and flies to meet the new dragon. I shake my head thinking I must be delusional from blood loss as I spot Rhaena atop this dragon. 

“I figured I would help in the war!” Rhaena calls out as her dragon gives out a fierce cry and I look below as a sob rips through me as I see a grand host from the Vale and the North seeping through the tree lines running to meet the Greens host.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Harrenhal Pov:

Caraxes and Vhagar circle each other around the body of water and give out low grumbles. The sky begins to cry as the dragons close in on one another. The Blood Wyrm quickly twists around the old fossil as she barely turns in time for the first snap of teeth. Vhagar gives out a loud cry as Caraxes sinks his teeth into her neck. 

Vhagar pulls away from Caraxes and breathes fire upon him and Daemon. Daemon flies through the flame and straight for Vhagars rider. Aemond dips, narrowly avoiding Caraxes maw. They pull back from one another and the dragons circle above the water once more.

“You have lived long enough,” Aemond calls across the skies to Daemon. 

“Something we agree upon,” Daemon chuckles as he begins to unclip from Caraxes. 

The world seems to hold its breath as Daemon unsheathes Dark Sister and points to Aemond and Vhagar. Caraxes flies quick and hard latching onto Vhagar. Daemon jumps from his dragon to Aemond landing on Vhagars head. He sprints down on uneven feet as Aemond struggles to get his weapon or unclip from his saddle. 

“For my Queen,” Daemon roars as he pierces Dark Sisters through Aemonds one eye before everything goes black.

The dragon’s give out a cry and spiral down to the water. The impact could be felt well over a hundred miles. Blood rain falls from the sky as the false King and the Rogue Prince implode to their watery grave. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

3rd person Rhaenyra Pov: 

Addam has been sent to recruit the small folk and hand out armor and weapons for those willing and able. Rhaenyra has slipped into the castle through the tunnels and has made quick work of finding her loyalists. She makes it to the throne room and lets out a breathy laugh. Alicent and Helaena are brought in and kneel before her. 

“Rhaenyra please,” Alicent pleads from her knees as Rhaenyra holds a blade to her throat. 

“You brought this upon yourself.” she looks down to Alicent with contempt. 

“The Kings are dead.” Helaena speaks softly from her place next to Alicent. 

“Which ones?” Rhaenyra turns her head to Helaena lowering the blade from Alicents throat. 

“All of them.” Helaena shakes her head and Rhaenyras blade falls out of her hand. 

“Ring the bells to let-“ 

“Your Grace, another dragon and a host.” Addam bursts through the throne room doors breathing heavily.

“Who?” Rhaenyra looks at him confused. 

“They say Rhaena with a host from the Vale and North.” Addam takes in the scene before him. 

“She’s done it.” Rhaenyra smiles breathing out a sigh of triumph and relief.

“They also say that Ben and Vermithor are flying around Coles headless body above the host. He carries his head on his back.” Alicent lets out a soft sob at his words. 

“Your son’s are dead. Your Kingmaker has been beheaded. You are surrounded. Ring the bells and save your remaining men.” Rhaenyra looks down to Alicent. 

“The common folk will remember this destruction.” Alicent narrows her eyes at Rhaenyra. 

“They fight your host from within the walls. You have lost.” Rhaenyra tugs Alicent up harshly and begins to bring her to the bell tower. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/n Pov: 

My head cranes to the city as the bells begin to toll. All of the dragons surround the city and  give out one last cry before they start to the Keep. As we look down the fighting is slowing and swords are being lowered. I’m in awe as we fly through the city at the amount of small folk that are pushing the Greens out of the gates. 

Baela and Jace come into view and tears start sliding down my face as I see them unscathed and safe. Rhaena comes from behind the Keep with Addam trailing close behind her. Our dragons follow Syraxs call and we land perched on the main gates. 

We all dismount and make it down to the main courtyard. We all look to each other and my siblings take in mine and Ben’s appearance. Their eyebrows furrow as they see my cut and look to our blood and dirt covered bodies. I turn to Ben and see Cole’s head bouncing against his back as he approaches me. Vermithor lets out a low growl and flings Cole’s body to the center of the yard. 

“I see burning people wasn’t enough for you both.” Jaces voice drowns out as me and Ben look to each other. 

“Let’s find a witch to bring him back. I want to kill him slower.” his voice rough as he tilts my chin to look at my cut. 

“I’m okay.” I look up to him taking in the death that remains in his eyes. 

“We will find you a maester at once.” he pulls me with him into the castle. 

“Where are you two going?” Baela yells after us. 

I tug him to the throne room thankful he doesn’t know where the maesters chambers are. I must see my mother. I need to know who rang those bells and what it means. As the doors groan under my hands I behold my mother atop the throne with her crown on her brow. 

“Daughter,” Rhaenyra rises taking in my state. “My children,” her voice wavers as the rest of my siblings trail in behind me and Ben. 

“My Queen,” I bow. 

“Call for a maester,” Rhaenyra flicks her head to Jace and he’s out in the hall shouting in seconds. 

I huff as he brings in a maester who sits me on a chair and begins to clean my wound. Ben holds my hand as the maester beings to stitch up my cheek. Rhaenyra is lowly talking to my siblings about how their plans went and she finally turns to me and Ben. 

“I wish to see the head.” Rhaenyras voice travels through the hall. 

“The rest of him is in the courtyard.” Ben rises from my side and pulls the head from his back. He offers her the head holding it by his hair. 

“You’ve done me a great service, Benjicot.” she shakes her head at a loss for words. “What happened to your cheek?” Rhaenyra turns her attention to me. 

“Cole.” I say trying to steady my breathing as the maester pulls the thread in and out of my flesh for his last stitch.

“You fool,” she shakes her head before she leans down and engulfs me in a hug before she turns back to the group of us.

“We’ve done it, gather the remaining Lords so we may start about clearing out the traitors and moving forward.” she turns and nods her head to us. “Ben, Y/n,” she stops us before we exit.

“Yes?” we turn back to her. 

“I have one more immeasurable favor to ask of you both.” she whispers down to us. 

“Say it and it will be done.” I look to her with tired eyes but ready to do what she needs. 

“Go to Harrenhal and see what remains.” her voice barely a murmur as her eyes begin to tear. 

“We will go at once,” I nod my head. 

She walks out of the Keep with us as we take in the dragons and the wall crumbling under their claws. Her head snaps to the rest of Coles body that remains in the center of the courtyard. From beyond the gates we hear shouts and cries of agony from the people who were not as lucky. 

“Fly safe and stay together.” she pulls me and Ben into a tight hug. “Please return to me.” her voice a whisper as she looks to both of us. 

Ben turns to me and we finally have a moment alone to ourselves. I look into his eyes and he seems to be coming down from his adrenaline still. I wrap my arms around him and he holds me tightly against him. I care not of our blood and dirt and pull his lips to mine feverishly.

“I want you to fly with me and Vermithor,” he looks down to me separating our lips. 

“Ben, I’m fine,” I sigh looking up to him.

“I know, but I just want you by me.” his hold on me tightens.

“Then ask Silverwing,” I relent and he pulls away to turn to my dragon as I walk to his.

“You flew valiantly today, my beautiful Silverwing. Will you allow Y/n to fly with me and Vermithor on our next journey?” I turn from Verithors neck and see Silverwing nudge into Ben before he starts towards me.

“Up you go.” he softly tugs me towards his wings and I begin my climb. We quickly settle and take flight. Silverwing flies next to us and they both give out a victorious song to the men below before we coast out on the horizon.

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

As we enter the Riverlands we can feel the great loss in the air. The clouds weep, cleaning off some of our blood and dirt as we make our way to the ruined castle. Our dragons give out low grumbles as we approach Harrenhal and begin to make our descent outside the main gates. 

Ben helps me off refusing to let me do anything on my own. He has a hand pressed against me at all times and grabs my hand for his own once we make it the ground. The heaviness in the air is unsettling while the wind sings an eerie song. 

The castle grounds are silent. We saw no dragons on approach and hear nothing as we look around for any sign of a threat. As we turn my heart goes to my throat as Alys appears. 

“Where are they?” I ask pulling the bone knife from its sheath and pointing it at her. 

“I would think you wouldn’t be so quick to show your child more death and violence. Though, you are your father’s child..” she trails off with a smile. 

“My child?” my eyebrows furrow as I raise the knife even higher. 

“The one you’ve been carrying for a moon now.” she nods to me and looks to Ben. I bring my free hand to my abdomen and try to think of any signs that her words are true. “I may have played mind games with your father but I can’t slip through your bond with the child’s father. He’s very protective.” she chuckles to Ben who is now trying to push me behind him. 

“Where is my father?” my voice wavers as my mind already knows the answer. 

“You’ll find him under the Gods Eye.” her skirts swish as she disappears behind the walls once more. 

“Stay with the dragons and I will go.” he looks down to me intensely. 

“You will not start with this overprotective male dominance now.” I huff as I try to walk past him but he grabs my arm to stop me. 

“Y/n,” he looks to me with pleading eyes as his hand travels to my lower abdomen. 

“After I find my father,” I shake my head and pull him along with me. 

We walk silently to the body of water just beyond the crumbling fortress. Our dragons follow behind us the ground shaking at their heavy steps. As we approach my breath catches taking in the blood splattered around the shores. 

Pieces of the once great dragons are jutting through the surface of the water. I can tell it’s both dragons by their coloring and a sob bubbles out of my mouth. My hand slips from Ben’s as I fall to my knees on the shore looking on at the still water. He kneels next to me and hugs me tightly. 

“I have to go find him.” I shake my head as tears begin to slip down my cheeks. 

I rise and start to walk into the once clear water that seems to now be stained a blush pink. Water licks at my thighs until I begin to start my swim. I swim around the masses in the water until I spot Caraxes. As I dip my head under the water to look for him my stitched cut screams in agony. 

I pull up for breath and begin to move around to see if I can find him anywhere else. I’ve been searching around Caraxes and have found nothing so I relent and begin my search around Vhagar. Ben shouts at me from the shore but I can’t abandon this search. 

As I dip down under the surface again my eyes blurry I spot Aemond in Vhagars saddle. I slip above the water to take in a deep breath before I dive down. My eyes bulge as I take in Dark Sister pierced through his remaining eye. I quickly scan the area and my remaining air bubbles out of my mouth as I see Daemon resting on the rocky bottom. I swim to the top and let out a loud sob. 

“Ben, I need you,” I cry and he’s running into the water and at my side in seconds. 

We swim below the surface and I rip Dark Sister from Aemonds head as Ben begins to lift and pull Daemons body to the surface. I grab on and help him carry him to shore. As we finally make it to the sands I sit silently looking down at his blade. 

“I-“ I shake my head as tears begin falling down my face. 

I let out a grief stricken scream and Silverwing quickly approaches the shores and curls near me. Ben holds me to him as my sobs continue to wreck me. My breathing finally settles and he looks up to me with sad eyes while wiping them away with his thumbs. 

“We need to prepare his body to bring back home.” I sniffle before getting to my feet.

“I’ll go see if there’s a maester or someone,” Ben rises wiping the sand off of him. 

“I told him he would die here.” Alys comes from the other side of the shore. 

“Are you just here to mock me and speak in riddles?” I yell exasperated. 

“I’ve brought this for your cheek. It’ll heal it better than those stitches.” she offers me a cup and I look at the foul smelling paste. “I’m also the only maester, if that’s what you want to call me, and I can prepare his body for your travels.” she offers and I cant tell if she’s sincere or not so I turn to Ben hoping he will deal with this situation for me. 

“What is this paste?” he grabs the cup from my hands. 

“Your dragons wouldn’t allow me to poison the mother of your child. Use it or don’t.” she chuckles turning her head to look at our dragons. 

“I want his body treated with respect. Bound and wrapped tastefully befitting a King. All of his armor is to be cleaned and properly packed so we may travel with ease. We will take our old chambers while you finish your work.” Ben pulls me to his side as we begin to walk to the castle once more. 

Our feet drag up the stairs as we stop in front of familiar doors. Ben pushes them open and escorts me to a chair to sit down. I place Dark Sister next to me and let out a shaky sigh. He kneels in front of me and locks his eyes with mine. 

“I’m sorry,” his words soft as he places the cup with the paste next to me and grabs my hands. 

“I had hoped he would make it.” tears still slide down my cheeks as he pulls me down into a hug.

“It seems as if Alys made you a bath. Let me clean you and help you relax.” he hums standing with me. 

He walks me to the bath and begins to remove my stained armor. I peel off my clothes as he starts to take off his armor. When he removes his shirt I can see small cuts littering his skin and I look at him with sad but thankful eyes that he’s still with me. He helps me slide into the bath and takes a seat next to me. 

The warm water lulls my muscles and I lean back resting my head on the lip of the small pool. I feel the water shift and he starts to undo my braids releasing their tension. I sigh in relief and allow my eyes to drift shut. He brings a cloth and soap to begin wiping my skin as I relax further into the water. 

“Do you want to try her paste?” his voice soft as I crack an eye open. 

“Sure, if anything bad happens Silverwing will eat her.” I shrug as he rises out of the bath. 

“I will kill her myself if she causes harm to you.” his voice trails to me from the couch before he returns. 

He applies a generous amount of paste to his fingers and brings his free hand to my jaw to tilt my head. I look up to him expectantly as he lowers his fingers to my cheek. I wince as the cold paste slides down my face and a shiver travels my spine as I feel the wound dispelling the stitches and doing its own work. 

“It’s healed.” his words almost a question as he tilts my head. He brings his hand up and shows me the black thread that was once holding my cheek. “That means she wasn’t lying.” his hand slides from my chin and he places it on my stomach. 

“Ben,” his name falls from my mouth as I allow myself to finally think about Alys’ words and the life growing inside me. 

“The mother of my children, my Princess, my wife.” his words filled with devotion as his lips softly press against mine. 

I let his lips wash away the day and all that’s come with it. His hand resting on my lower abdomen slides a little lower and I moan into his mouth as he circles my clit. His lips kiss down my now healed cheek and licks around my pulse. 

“I can’t wait to see you growing with our child.” he whispers in my ear as he dips his fingers into my core. “You’re gunna be even more beautiful.” I rest my head on his shoulder as my hips grind into his hand as my pleasure is already washing through me from my heightened emotions.

“Come let’s get you into bed while I find you some clothes. I’m sure we’ve left some behind.” he helps me out of the tub and walks me over to the bed always keeping a hand placed on me. 

“Ben I’m not going to break, I just fought alongside you in a war.” I huff but still allowing him to pull the covers over my body. 

“Do not remind me.” his rage seeps off of him. 

“Don’t work yourself up again.” I roll my eyes chuckling. “Come to bed, let’s forget today for a little while.” I pout my lips trying to pull him in with me. 

“I must find you clothes and food and a drink. Is there anything else?” he rambles as he begins walking to the doors. 

“Maybe some clothes for yourself? I know Harrenhal is empty but I don’t think the ghosts want you walking around nude.” I shake my head smiling. 

He pulls open the wardrobe and quickly slides on some pants and continues to rifle through what we’ve left. He pulls out wrinkled shirt next and shrugs before putting it on. He finds the shortest slip that’s been made in all of the seven kingdoms apparently and tosses it to me on the bed. 

“Now you have clothes.” he nods to himself before slipping out the door. I sigh and slip the piece of fabric on nonetheless. I pull the blankets closer and allow my eyes to rest while he’s off on his hunt. 

“I found some meat and cake and that’s about it.” Ben pushes the doors open jolting me awake. “And water. I’ve also spoken with Alys.” I stretch out wiping my eyes. 

“Pray tell what more Alys had to say.” I sigh as I hold my hands out expectantly for my water. 

“Just that she’ll have everything prepared for us by the morning. I’ve sent a raven to  Rhaenrya telling her that we will return tomorrow.” he hands me my glass of water and sits on the bed next to me with the tray of food. 

“You didn’t deliver the news of Daemon in that letter, did you?” I pull the cup from my lips. 

“No, she needs to see for herself.” he shakes his head. He starts to cut up the meat on the tray and goes to feed it to me. 

“Benjicot Blackwood,” I scold. “What happened to the man who made me and Silverwing hunt for him and his dragon?” I raise my eyebrows as a smile plays on my lips. 

“Shh, I’ll be the man now.” he tries to hide his smile as I accept the meat from the fork. 

“Then that means no more jumping off of Vermithor into the middle of a war.” I narrow my eyes at him as I accept another mouthful. 

“I was wondering when you would yell at me about that.” he says sheepishly. 

“I was so fucking scared. I thought my heart was going to stop. Never do that again.” I furrow my brows. “You did look incredibly fierce doing it though.” I whisper and his eyes snap to mine. 

“Fierce, hm?” he smiles down to me. 

“And fucking stupid.” I push him back as he chuckles. 

“Well let’s hope our child takes after you.” his smile is soft as he sits up. 

“Do you wish for a boy or a girl?” I hum as he starts to feed me cake. 

“I care not.” his smile widens. 

“I hope for a girl, so I think we’ll have a boy.” I chuckle accepting more of the sweet dessert. 

“Then we’ll have as many until we get a girl.” he discards the tray on the ground to bring his full attention to me. 

“We shall see what the Gods grant us.” I hum pulling him into a kiss. “Did you not bring any food for yourself?” I pull back looking to him. 

“I ate as your food was being prepared. I wanted to have a different kind of dessert.” his eyes darken and he crawls over me kissing me once more. 

My thighs spread as he settles between them. He licks and kisses down my neck before circling his tongue over my covered nipples. I whine as he scrapes his teeth around them before snaking his way lower. He places featherlight kisses down my slit as I sigh, bucking my hips to his face. 

His tongue juts out and offers small licks to my sensitive bud as I softly pant above him. His lips encase me while his tongue lashes against me quickly. My hand goes to his hair as I grind against his mouth and chase my pleasure. His other hand interlocks with my free hand as he continues with his tongue. 

“Ben, fuck,” I cry as I arch off the bed. 

He licks down my center and pushes his tongue into me as I gasp trying to catch my breath. He brings his other hand to circle along my bud as his tongue laps at my wetness. I explode across his face and he continues licking to clean me off. I sigh as my body melts into the bed as he comes to lay at my side. 

“What of you?” I say my eyes barely open as I go to reach for his length. 

“I’m okay, my love. Rest.” he grabs my hand and kisses my forehead as I curl into him allowing my mind to forget all of the bad today and only think of the good. 

We’ve taken Kings Landing. My mother sits the throne. My cheek is healed. I have a life growing inside me. I have a man who is absolutely devoted to me at my side awaiting the day we can marry and I can’t wait to marry him. I drift off contented listening to his heartbeat. 

⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹ ⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆

masterlist 🔌 

Part 8

ik i said 3 more parts 2 parts ago which means only one more after this but that’s just not enough?? and now i want to write abt them being happy and married and with kids wtfff are ppl down for that or do i do a spin off series??? like lmk bc i want more than just an epilogue and a glimpse like no i want to see this man waiting on you hand and foot and being absolutely OBSESSED with you pregnant with his child 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @anaviieiraaa @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @zanygot7straykidsbonk

if I missed anyone lmk!

[lay-z]

💒 Day 9 – Separated

A continuation to 🎁 Day 1 – All I want for Christmas (is you), which means it’s set in the same universe!  

Synopsis: Happily married for several months now, you and John spend your first Christmas as newlyweds in Glasgow with his family.  

Pairing: John Soap MacTavish x fem!Reader  Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | military!Reader; domesticity; married life/established relationship; humour; fluff; cussing; male masturbation; oral sex; hurt/comfort; angst with a happy ending (Yay!) 

Word count: 3.6k 

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

You shiver despite your warm layers of clothing and stifle another yawn as you wait for the front door to the MacTavish's home to open. The large house is adorned with bright lights and decorations, even in the front yard, and a traditional Christmas wreath has been hung up at the old, heavy door.  

The noise inside is muffled, but you can already hear the music, chatter and overall chaos. 

Next to you, your husband glances over, a crease of concern between his dark brows as soon as he notices the dark circles under your eyes and the way your shoulders slouch with fatigue.  

"Ye alright, luv? Ye're no’ gettin' sick on me, eh?" He reaches over to rub your back over your thick winter coat, trying to shield you from the freezing gusts of snow-speckled wind. 

"Nah, 'm fine," you reply, yawning this time and smacking your lips before smiling over at him, "Just tired again." 

John nods, curling his muscular arm around your waist to pull you closer into his side, leaning in to kiss your temple – and discreetly check if you might have a fever as his lips linger. 

"Aye, hen, t’was a long drive here." He remarks, muttering against your skin before pulling back with an exasperated sigh as he lifts his fist to knock once more. 

It’s your first Christmas as a married couple and while the both of you intitially wanted to spend it alone together, his family kept nagging and begging him to come back to Glasgow to celebrate the holidays properly with the whole MacTavish clan, like in the old days. Cue your own family giving you hell for choosing your husband’s side of the family over them.  

Needless to say, the past couple of weeks have been rather stressful, with your responsibilities serving in the military and being part of the 141 breathing down your neck, too, along with John’s own reintroduction into his military service, which caused you two to have less time for each other than you both expected. 

“I’ll give ye a massage later,” John says, his voice dropping to a promising murmur, “How does that sound?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, making you huff a laugh as you lean in to hug him back and rest your cheek against his chest, limbs feeling heavy already. 

“Doesn’t sound too bad.” You glance up at him, admiring his handsome face with a soft smile, and your heart gives a sudden flutter like it did when you first started fooling around in secret, back when you first joined the task force after him. 

The door cracks open eventually, and a wave of warmth embraces you immediately, making you shudder as you cling to John. His mother pokes her head out and her bright blue eyes immediately light up. 

“Well, if it isn’t my handsome son and his bonnie bride.” She smiles warmly, eyes crinkling in the corners as she pulls her only son into a hug, “We’ve been wonderin’ where ye are!” 

“Hello, ma.” John mutters while his mother, always the overly affectionate one, cuddles him tightly and ruffles his short dark hair; the hair he’s been growing out and grooming differently since getting rid of his Mohawk and trying to hide the gnarly scar on the side of his head. 

Then, you’re attacked next, but as you go in to reciprocate her welcoming hug, she keeps you at arm's length instead, her hands planted on your shoulders as she looks at you, eyes narrowing slightly.  

Meanwhile, your gaze flickers in confusion between John’s and hers while she keeps scrutinizing you, grasping your chin and tilting your face as she hums to herself. 

“Uhm, Rosemary... Good–Good to see you again,” you try tentatively, offering an awkward smile as your arms drop and hang loosely at your sides. 

John takes your hand, chuckling nervously, “Ma, dinnae be weird now.” 

“Och, dinnae be silly, John! Let yer mum check on her bonnie daughter-in-law.” Rosemary pulls back, her blue eyes sparkling strangely as she flashes a beaming smile before waving her son off dismissively and stepping to the side to usher you both inside.

When John picks up your luggage again, he doesn’t let go of your hand. 

The atmosphere inside the big, old house is welcoming and warm, loud and chaotic, as usual. All of John’s four sisters are present with their partners and children, and even some uncles and aunts have been invited with their spouses.  

At some point after the sumptuous dinner, when wine, scotch and eggnog flow steadily, and the language barrier between you and your in-law family becomes more apparent again once they all keep slipping into Gaelic, you swiftly find a corner in the living room where you’re able to take a much-needed breather while John is busy entertaining his young nieces and nephews. 

Taking a few slow and deep breaths, you try to get rid of the queasy feeling in your stomach that caught you off guard since sitting down at the long dinner table earlier.

Perhaps you are overworked and definitely overwhelmed, unable to relax and unwind after the past couple of months of round-the-clock action; whether it was helping John with his ongoing rehabilitation, the wedding, the following honeymoon, or the countless deployments and field trainings, all while trying to adjust to married life. 

You’re happier than you’ve ever been in your life, there is no doubt about that, but it’s been... tough. Even you must admit that to yourself; you’re exhausted. 

As you glance down into your half-empty wine glass, you swivel the ruby liquid inside a bit while you feel your mouth suddenly fill with saliva at the lingering sour taste on your tongue. It’s an odd reaction and you swallow thickly, wrinkling your nose before setting the glass on the small side table next to the armchair you’re lounging in.  

Suddenly, John appears from the crowd, crouching down in front of the armchair. His stubbly cheeks flushed a pinkish hue from the alcohol, his cerulean eyes gleaming with love as he gazes up at you like a devoted puppy yearning for some praise, “Everythin’ alright, my love?” 

You cup his jaw and caress your thumb over the apple of his cheek, giving a curt nod, a small smile playing on your lips as you meet his gaze with half-lidded eyes. 

“Just tired, baby.” You repeat the words for the umpteenth time in the past few days it feels.  

“Mhm,” John rests his cheek on your knee as you rake your manicured fingers through his short hair and his eyelids flutter briefly as he sighs deeply, “Aye, could take a nap, too.” 

John leads you to one of the guest bedrooms upstairs where he’d previously carried the luggage. However, as he switches the light on, you’re met with a peculiar sight. 

“Seriously?” You snort, peeking up at John with a raised eyebrow while he rubs the back of his neck, smirking sheepishly and giving a shrug. 

“First come, first serve, I guess,” he chuckles, “At least we don’t gotta share our bathroom with anyone.” 

You hum, pursing your lips as you nod, “Don’t have to share a bed, either.” You quip, making a vague gesture at the two single beds with Christmas themed bed sheets, separated by a wide bedside table. 

“Och, we’ll make do,” John snickers, pulling you into his side and grabbing a handful of your left ass cheek over the wool dress you’re wearing before leaning down to bury his nose in your neck, “Jus’ like the good ol’ days back at the barracks, baby.” 

He nips at your neck, making you giggle as you tilt your head and lift your shoulder, trying to shield yourself from his playful ministrations. 

“You mean the days when you’d begged me to let you into my bed?” 

John lets out a mock scoff, straightening up and rolling his broad shoulders after letting go of your ass cheek with one last squeeze, “I never had to beg ye.” 

The both of you know that it's a blatant lie.  

He clears his throat, “Wanna bet it’s gonna be ye who asks ta move the beds together? Whining for cuddles an’ kisses from yer man like a wee lassie?” 

You pout at him, brows setting in a feigned frown as you sidestep him with your arms crossed over your chest petulantly, “You’re on, MacTavish,” you huff, “–and you’re so gonna lose this bet.” 

“Winner gets a nice treat, aye?” He suggests with a boyish grin, following you into the bedroom. 

After unpacking together and settling in, John leaves you to have one more drink with his father downstairs while the rest of his family is either leaving and bidding their goodbyes or retreating to the other guest bedrooms. 

And while you can barely keep your eyes open as you change into your pyjamas, brush your teeth and go through your nightly routine in the adjacent bathroom, you feel simultaneously too exhausted and unable to find sleep as you finally lay in your assigned single bed.  

This restlessness feels strange, and you must actively keep yourself from tossing and turning on the mattress as you lay in the darkness alone. You even go through the various sleeping techniques which you’ve learned on duty, the ones that have helped you catch some shuteye on missions in the past, though to no avail.  

Your eyes are burning behind your eyelids whenever you shut them, and your mind can’t seem to quiet. You’re terribly aware of your heartbeat, the soreness of your limbs and the queasiness in your gut, and in this moment, you can’t help but yearn for your husband’s presence; for him to slip under the covers behind you and his large, strong hands to roam and touch your body in a way that distracts you from this discomfort you find yourself in. 

Time passes, and while you’re still unable to fall asleep, you’ve manage to turn your mind off by focusing on the various sounds in the house; deep voices engaged in conversation downstairs, the flushing of toilets, the dull footsteps of someone walking up or down the stairs– 

You’re lying on your side, facing the wall, the pillow hugged to your chest with your head flat on the mattress, and your eyes shut as you’re simply dozing, when the door to the bedroom creaks open and John staggers inside clumsily. 

There’s a pause before the door clicks and locks again, and you know he’s checking if you’re asleep, so you play along and stay still. You expect him to fold, to come crawling into your bed and lose the bet, and the thought of him desperately pawing at your flimsy pyjamas to get to your goodies, makes your lower tummy flutter with excitement and anticipation. 

So, you listen as he disappears into the bathroom, how the toilet flushes after he takes a comically long piss, the running of the faucet when he washes his hands and brushes his teeth, all while your heart keeps thudding against your ribcage while you suppress a wicked grin. 

When John emerges from the bathroom, he smacks his hand against the light switch, unnecessarily forceful like he always does, and– 

Your eyes blink open, eyebrows furrowing, when he walks past your bed to slip into his with a low grunt. The single mattress creaks under his weight, the covers rustle as gets comfortable, sniffling and smacking his lips like a dog getting ready for the best sleep in his life. 

And just when you want to turn around to make your wakefulness known, your breath stutters in your chest as you hear him spitting – presumably into his palm.  

You don’t know how long you’ve been holding your breath for, frozen in place as you listen to the slick sound of his hand stroking his cock, but it’s been long enough to have your own body react to it as your thighs squeeze together discreetly, wetness spreading between your folds as you try to get friction on your pulsating clit while your heart feels heavy in your chest. 

Suddenly, you’re going through a myriad of emotions and it’s something you haven’t experienced before. You feel aroused, excited, betrayed, sad, angry, frustrated, disappointed – and it’s all too much when the sound of John’s husky groan and shallow breaths reach your ears. 

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me – John.” You mutter, saying his name louder as you perk up in your bed, glancing over your shoulder at him in the darkness and barely able to make out his silhouette. 

“Are you seriously jerking off right now?” 

John sputters, his movements stilling before he has the audacity to bark out a laugh, “Ah, I didnae ken ye’re awake.” His Scottish brogue is more apparent now, his deep voice a little breathless. 

“Yeah, well... I am!” You hiss, sitting up fully and leaning against the headboard of your bed, blood boiling and heating up your cheeks with agitation and before you know it, your eyes start stinging and welling up with fat tears while your bottom lip wobbles. 

“Woah, wait–” He chuckles, though more in confusing than disbelief as he tries to interpret your reaction, “Are ye... mad at me for havin’ a lil’ wank?” His thick brows draw together as he listens intently, his cock still throbbing in his fist.  

You sniffle, shoulders trembling with restraint as you wipe furiously at your eyes and cheeks, though the first tears have already slipped and stained your sleepshirt. It’s so out of character for you. Normally, you would simply tease him for this. Hell, you have a great sex life together; have rubbed one out next to him just to rile him up in the past. This should be nothing to you, but for no other apparent reason than a matter of principle, it is, and you can’t stop your mouth from blurting out more words. 

“Y’know, it’s just funny to me that–that you actually seem to be enjoying this bet and ugh separation between–between us,” you babble, ignoring logic in favour of the cocktail of raging emotions wreaking havoc inside you. 

“What? No! Baby, please, I–” John stammers, becoming more confused and overwhelmed with each hiccup and sob coming from your bed from the other side of the room, “Ye’re the love of my life, please–” He tucks his still semi-hard cock back into his boxer briefs before scrambling on his mattress to turn on the lamp on the bedside table. 

When the bedroom is illuminated by the lamp’s warm light, John immediately sobers up as he assesses the strange situation, and his stomach drops as he spots you curled up on the single bed, hugging your knees and muffling your sobs. He can’t count on one hand the times he’s seen you cry, so this is more than alerting. 

“Ach, fuck this bloody bet.” John huffs and in an instant, he’s up on his feet and nearly flinging himself onto your bed; strong arms cooping you up in an embrace as he shifts you around until he’s sitting with his back against the headboard, cradling your shivering form against his chest. 

“Steamin’ Jesus, ye’re really scarin’ me right now,” he mutters against the crown of your head, nuzzling your hair as he rocks you gently, “Can ye tell me what’s goin’ on, hm? Please?” 

“Fuck, I–I don’t know,” you wail and whine into his bare chest, coarse dark hair scratching against your face as you try to burrow deeper into his embrace, all while his bulky arms tighten around you like steel rods, “I just... I need you.”  

And then, when you shift and climb into his lap to hump and grind your clothed pussy against his upper thigh, John gets really confused. 

He blinks dumbly, “So... ye’re not mad at me? Ye’re jus’... horny?” His cock twitches in his briefs when you bite your puffy bottom lip and choke back a keening moan. 

“Shut up,” you whinge, hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders as he surveys your odd behavior with a mixture of amusement and concern, once he’s sure you’re not sick or hurt. 

John chuckles huskily, his hands trailing down to grasp your hips, “Should’a said some, hen.” He purrs as he tugs on the hem of your sleepshirt teasingly before pulling it up over your head when you lift your arms up obediently. 

His pupils dilate as soon as his eyes drink in the sight of your pretty tits. When his hands trace up your stomach, he can feel your skin pebble with goosebumps, and when his thumbs trace the underside of your naked breasts, he notices your slight wince while your cute nipples stiffen instantly, making his mouth water at the sight like Pavlov’s trained mutt. 

“Sensitive tonight, are we?” 

You swat at his biceps meekly, letting out the most pathetic little whine that has John’s heart thudding and his cock chuff to full mast. This is so unlike you, and it makes him reel internally. 

“Fuckin’ hell, ye’re killin’ me here. I need a taste of ye, love.” He mutters under his breath and leans in to kiss you deeply, all teeth and tongue, before he picks you up and manhandles you like some ragdoll until you’re lying on your back underneath him, gazing up with a desperate, pleading look in your glossy, bright doe-eyes. 

You help him take off your pyjama pants next, movements sluggish as you burn up with desire and need while John nudges your legs apart before settling between your thighs, getting in position like a sniper on a mission. 

John holds your upper thighs in a firm grip, keeping them spread for him as he drags his nose from your crack up your wet slit, parting your folds and inhaling the familiar scent of your arousal deeply as he goes, though it somehow seems more intoxicating as ever. And the first taste of your cunt has his mind go berserk, synapsis firing in the most primal part in his brain as he swallows hard and growls against your folds. 

You clasp a hand over your mouth, muffling your whimpers, “Oh...god... Johnny.”  

You taste absolutely divine and you’re practically gushing from your little hole like never before as John drapes your legs over his shoulders, spreads your velvety folds with his fingers and starts licking and suckling on your clit like a madman; completely and utterly possessed by you as he slurps and laps up your slick arousal, making sure not a drop goes to waste. 

The first orgasm hits you hard and leaves your pussy convulsing almost painfully as white-hot pleasure wrecks through your flushed body; making your toes curl and your back arch off the mattress while those dull throbs of pleasure-pain have you begging for Johnny’s thick fingers to fill you up. And he eagerly complies by plunging both middle and ring finger into your dripping cunt while the feeling of his thick, golden wedding band stimulating your entrance has your eyes roll back into your skull. 

Your doting husband eats you out for what feels like hours, way past the soreness of his own jaw, until you’re nothing but a limp, twitching mess on the narrow mattress, and even then, he doesn’t let up. 

“Can’t stop, baby,” he grunts against your swollen clit, his voice muffled by your slick flesh as he pumps and curls his fingers inside your fluttering channel, “Ye taste too fuckin’ good.” 

Clutching the steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee between your palms, you stifle another yawn as you sit at the kitchen table before you catch the significant glance John shoots in your direction, a prideful smirk tugging at his lips and his chest puffed out even more than usual as he converses with one of his brothers-in-law.  

Yes, you’re tired, but at least you know why today. Smiling to yourself, you hide it by taking a sip of your coffee. 

“Havin’ a good mornin’, Mrs. MacTavish?” 

Your eyes flicker up when John’s mother sets a full plate of breakfast in front of you. An array of bacon and eggs, sausage, baked beans, toast and fried mushrooms – a sight that had your mouth water in the past but your nose wrinkle in the present. 

“Cannae stand the smell, eh?” The older woman chuckles, patting your back affectionately, “Jus’ wait fer the morning sickness, lass.” 

As you gaze up at her in confusion, you catch that same strange and gleeful twinkle from yesterday in her eyes. Your eyes narrow slightly, “I’m sorry, Rosemary, but what are you talking about? You’ve been dropping hints like that since last night.” 

Rosemary clicks her tongue and raises a dark eyebrow as if surprised you haven’t caught on yet before she reaches into the pocket of her apron and then takes one of your wrists to shove something that feels like a pencil into your palm. 

“I kept them around when my daughters got married,” she explains softly, though it confuses you even more until you look down at the object in your palm, “I ken this would be the biggest Christmas present for Johnny... and for all of us, too.” 

Your stomach drops and your eyes widen as you stare at the pregnancy test.