#anyway....I'm just so sick of this fic! I WANT IT DONE! I JUST NEED TO WRITE A NICE ENDING!

[ghostgirlvii]

me, ready to write and finish that damn fic;

me as soon as I open the document;

[highdramas]

peaceful road | dr. michael robinavitch

pairing: michael robinavitch x f!reader

warnings: language, age gap (reader is 29, robby is 50)

word count: 2392

summary: (small town au) you've lived in cradle point, oregon for nearly your entire life. when you come down with a nasty sickness, you meet dr. robby-- just having opened his new private practice after running away from it all.

notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with my work or this fic. i'm very excited to kick off this series! i admittedly know little about operating a private practice, or medicine in general, so please forgive any inaccuracies. thank you for reading <3

--

dr. michael robinavitch starts his day at 7am, by habit more than anything else. he doesn’t begin seeing patients until 8am, but there’s something very comforting about the quiet of his office, the sound of the keyboard, the faint sound of johnny cash playing out of his speakers. he makes the short drive to work every day and he now has the time to stop for coffee, rather than make it at home.

life has been slower since that day in the pitt. that day that lead into an almost immediate sabbatical, which then lead to a resignation, he still has to fight off this notion that he gave up, that he conceded something. he wakes up and wonders most mornings still– how are they doing? how’s whittaker holding up? sometimes, he nearly texts dana to ask, then he remembers she’s now at a private practice, too. except she didn’t move across the country.

how could he stay in pittsburgh? what was going to be left for him there?

he loved the pacific northwest for a long time, after visiting one time with collins. he enjoyed portland, but he loved his time on the coast even more. when he thought about where he wanted a fresh start, that felt like a good a place as any.

after extensive research, he decided on cradle point. with a population of 1,500, and no private practice since the last doctor had moved away, it felt like a good place to try. and so he did. and after two months… well, things were going pretty well. it felt like he could breathe, while still doing the thing that he had burning passion for. he could save lives and not put his own mental health in turmoil every single day. he could step away from emergency medicine and live with himself.

that’s what he said to himself, anyway. sometimes, when he was feeling really crazy, he would go to the emergency room in lincoln city, and he’d sit in the parking lot and consider going in and asking if they needed an er physician. but then he always got back into his subaru and made the drive down the coastline back to cradle point.

he’s only on month two of operating his own private practice, and he doesn’t want to say that it’s perfect– he knows it isn’t. but it’s good. and that’s what he cares about.

hearing a tug at the door, his head pops up, tugging his readers off. it’s unusual to get anyone at his door until 9 or 10. he suspects that townsfolk are still trying to decide if they trust him– he gets it. well, not really, but he is starting to understand the small town mentality. the aversion to outsiders.

when he swings open the door and sees you, it starts up those same emergency medicine instincts. you look unsteady on your feet, holding a coffee, sunglasses on the crown of your head. “hi,” you say, voice graveled. “i’ve been wanting to come by and introduce myself–” you give him your name before you cough into the crook of your arm. “i’m sorry, i know you’re probably not open yet. my friends finally shamed me into coming, but i need to be at my shop at 8:30, and i saw that your light was on–”

“no, no. please, come in and sit.” he gestures to an exam bed which you hop onto. he can’t help his slight smile as you cross your legs and toss your bag into the chair by the exam table like you’ve done it the exact same way a million times. “did you used to see dr. jackson?”

michael doesn’t know much about his predecessor, other than that it sounded like he had pretty big shoes to fill. dr. angela jackson was beloved by the people of cradle point. that much was abundantly clear. you flush and laugh a little bit. “she’s my aunt.” you rub your hands on your pants and look at him sheepishly. “that’s a small town for ya.”

he laughs louder at that. “well,” he takes a step closer to you. “i’m not your aunt, but i’ll take good care of you. my name is dr. robinavitch, but most people call me dr. robby. i’m gonna do a quick exam on you and hopefully get you out of here.”

“thank you, dr. robinavitch.” you smile so earnestly it makes his heart stutter over itself.

shit.

–

you had a crush on the hot doctor. why did no one tell you that he was hot?

having lived in cradle point for your entire life, any new person moving into town was undeniably a big deal. it felt like, anymore, people moved away frequently, but there wasn’t a steady stream of those returning. of course, there was the tourists in the summer and the occasional retiree that would settle down on the coast. but most people didn’t feel like living out of the way of so much.

you loved your hometown. you loved the tall trees and the fact that you could walk onto the balcony off your bedroom and hear the faint crash of the ocean. you loved that your best friend erin was just like you, and had stayed, and that every day you could walk ten minutes down the road to see her. you loved that you could take your cat onto the beach in her little harness and leash whenever you wanted. you loved the farmers market. you loved being a business owner in this town. there wasn’t much that you didn’t like.

and you really loved when new people entered your orbit. there was a sort of excitement that it brought– it was so rare, how could you not be excited?

dr. robinavitch is thorough with you. you believe him when he says he’s doing to take good care of you. you’ve been going and going with little slowing since you got sick– not taking days off of work, carrying on despite your body screaming at you to stop. he cradles your face and gently presses on your cheeks, causing you to wince slightly. it’s then when he leans back and looks at you and says, “yeah, you’ve got a pretty nasty sinus infection. i’m gonna get you some antibiotics and you should be good to go within the next week. but you’re gonna need rest– no work. you think you can do that?”

“i can give it a really good try,” you say. “no, no– yeah, i won’t work. i’ll get erin to cover the store for a couple of days.”

“where do you work?”

“i own mazzy’s. it’s a bookstore on main street.” feeling bold, you say, “you should come by sometime, once i’m better. do you like to read? i can give you plenty of suggestions.” you pause, and add, sheepishly, “if you want, of course.”

michael, utterly charmed despite everything in him screaming at him not to be, shoves his hands into the pockets of his zip up hoodie. “yeah, i like to read. i’ve been driving past it every day and thinking about how i should go in. i’ve read through just about everything i’ve got.” that was about all he did during his sabbatical– reading, pretending, pushing it all down. “i’ll come by. i like sci fi.”

“sci fi! we have a great sci fi section–” you sneeze. “and fantasy, too, if you’re into that sort of thing.” you have that same sheepish look on your face and all he can think about is how sweet you are, how in fifteen minutes you’ve made him feel more welcome in this town than anyone else in the past month has made him feel. including his neighbors. no fault to them, he thinks; they would be in pretty stiff competition with you around.

no. you’re younger than him– twenty nine, he found out, as he was doing your intake. he may be having a midlife crisis, but he never fancied himself the type to go for a girl nearly half his age, let alone a patient. but then you start talking about a book called this is how you lose the time war and his heart does that same stuttering that it did earlier. maybe he should be the one seeing a doctor.

“--and, yeah, it’s a love story more than anything. a very good love story. not some of the cheesy slop that’s out right now. i mean, don’t the people want to yearn anymore?” you sigh, clearly exasperated at your own train of thought. you stand and grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. “anyway. i’m sorry, i’ll get out of your hair.”

“no, no–” he chuckles, the sound awkward in his ears. “stay in my hair as much as you want.” it’s his turn to flush, but you are too, and you meet each others gaze and laugh together. maybe there’s some knowing it that laugh. that neither of you can quite place it, but… there’s something.

“as much as i’d love to, i should take your advice and get my rest. thank you so much, again–” you open the door to the clinic, greeted by the torrential downpour that started at some point while you and dr. robby were in your trance. “wow. anyway, i’ll be seeing you.”

“oh–” he grabs the door, holding it open for you and looking out at the unyielding rain. “you drive here?”

“i walked. i’ll be fine, i–”

before he can think better of it, he says, “i can drive you,” a doctor for more years than he can count at this point, and he’s teetering on breaking the code of ethics over the first girl he meets. of course. “if you want. only if you want.”

hanging onto the doorframe, you smile a little and look out to the rain. fuck it. “sure. thank you.”

–

you both make a quick jog to his car parked slightly down the road, tugging your hoods over your heads. “this one’s mine,” he says, pointing to an immaculate black subaru suv. he rushes to open your door for you, making sure you’re safely inside before he hops into the drivers seat. the sound of the rain pounding on his car fills your ears, and you’re both slightly out of breath, looking over at each other and smiling. “wouldn’t have been a fun walk home,” he muses.

you blow out a puff of air. “no, it wouldn’t have.” you lean your head back against the seat, sniffling some. “thank you.”

“my pleasure.” you’re still looking at each other for a beat when he clears his throat, starting up the car. “you lead the way.”

you provide him instructions on how to get to your small seaside cottage. it was your parents home– when they decided they were ready to go on and retire in southern california, tired of the rain of the oregon coast, they put the house in your name. it was your grandparents home before that, the entire house wrapped up in the history of your last name.

you provide him anecdotes regarding businesses and landmarks as you drive past them. “that’s mrs. felicia’s diner. have you eaten there yet? don’t get the pie. just trust me.” a moment later, “this is the lookout where high schoolers go to make out or smoke weed. it’s like, don’t they know they’re not that slick?”

michael listens to all your musings, riveted. having grown up in chicago, later relocating to pittsburgh, he’s always been a big city guy. big cities have their own charms, quirks, and rituals– but none the way that you’re describing to him. he likes that about cradle point. that you have a story for every square inch of this town.

“so. why did you move here?” you ask. it’s an innocent enough question, and you’re not the first person who has asked it but it still makes his heart seize up. “i mean– i’m just not used to new people. you’re probably gathering that none of us are.”

“yup, i’ve gathered that much.” he tries not to sound too irritable. it’s not your fault you’re asking. it’s not your fault that he’s so fucked up, that he feels like he can’t run fast enough away from his past. “i was just ready for a change.”

“and where did you move from?”

“pittsburgh.”

“did you like it?”

“yeah, until i didn’t.” he sighs. “i’m sorry. i’m not trying to be a hardass.”

shaking your head, you look down at your hands. “no, i’m sorry i’m prying.”

“don’t be. don’t be, really– i’m the asshole. trust me.”

you begin approaching your street. it’s idyllic– framed with trees, sloping hills with various beautiful beach homes surrounding it. the beach is but a stone’s throw away, and he feels a pang of jealousy. he’s certainly not without the funds, but a beachside home was not in the cards for him. “this is me,” you point to the home, and he smiles a little. of course it is. it’s quaint, but charming. there’s a beautiful garden out front and a cat napping in the front window. “thank you again.”

“you’re welcome. and about before, i–”

“nope. no more apologies needed.” you give a reassuring smile. “thank you for the antibiotics. thank you for the drive. and…” you fumble around in your purse for your store business card and a pen, scribbling a string of numbers onto it. “if you ever want a book recommendation…” you pass the card to him. “just let me know.”

staring down at the card, your logo– a cat sleeping on a stack of books– he rubs his thumb on the worn paper where you’ve just written your phone number with the word “cell” ahead of it. he wonders how long it’s been in your bag. if you give these out to just anyone. “i’ll do that.”

with a final smile and a wave, you speed walk towards your house. he watches to make sure you get inside safely. when the door has shut, he leans his forehead onto the steering wheel, a long breath coming from deep in his chest.

twenty feet away, you’re leaning with your back against your front door, your hand on your chest, an identical breath coming out of you.

[coldfanbou]

Least Restrictive Environment

So, this isn't what I wanted to put out. I got sick in the middle of the week, and looking at a screen has been difficult. I just happened to have this nearly finished, so I added a little bit more to it. It's part 2 of the Sana and Momo Kinkcember fic. That being said, it's pretty much just an update on what happened after P1 and smut, so it might be better to call it an epilogue. I'm starting to ramble anyway. I hope you enjoy it.

Length 2.1K

Sana X Momo X M reader

Once your relationship with your foster sisters had come to light, life became awkward in your home. The three of you would have constant sex when your parents were out; it didn’t matter where in the house it would happen; in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, everywhere was fair game. Your foster parents had had enough after a time. The smell bothered them more than anything. Considering there was no blood relation between any of you, they were okay with you being together; they just wanted you all to move out.

Together, the three of you were able to afford a decent place, renting a nice-sized apartment that quickly became your home. With the constant urge to play with each other, it was only a matter of time before Sana and Momo got pregnant. They were as happy as could be when they found out, and they wouldn’t allow their pregnancy to stop their daily activities. 

While Sana went out to get some shopping done, you were with Momo, your hands digging into her shoulders as you massaged them. Momo groaned as your hands unknotted the tension, feeling your breath against her back move her to push for more. You hadn’t had sex yet, having agreed to wait for Sana to come back. Momo figured she might be able to convince you. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at you, “I need you to get a spot, but let me take this off.” She said, making you pause. Momo lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it on the bed. The shirt was Momo’s only clothes, leaving her naked; considering how far along she was, she didn’t wear her bras anymore, and with the constant sex you all had, she had given up on panties long ago. Momo smirked as you asked her where she wanted you to focus. She reached back and grabbed your hands, “Right here,” Momo said, placing your hands on her engorged tits. You move closer to Momo, looking over her shoulder. Her breasts were weightier; her nipples had turned a darker color as well. The sight of her bare breasts turned you on, and Momo could feel your hardening cock against her ass.

“Oh, it feels like you need to get some tension out, too,” Momo said with a smirk. She has you squeeze her tits once before turning around. “Lay down for me, baby, and take those clothes off. Mommy is going to make you feel good.” You had to admit Momo taking charge aroused you more than anything, so you did as you were told. Once your clothes were off, Momo patted her lap, “Lay down here.” You rested against Momo, letting her adjust your position at will. In the end, she had her hand wrapped around your cock as she offered you one of her tits. You couldn’t resist; the large mounds were hypnotizing. You leaned in, running your tongue along her areola before taking it into your mouth. Momo’s hand began to move along your length slowly. You were growing harder, and Momo noticed, smiling as your precum began to cover her hand. “Oh, you’re so hard already. Does Mommy’s hand feel that good?” You nod, continuing to suck on her tit. “Are you going to cum soon?” She asked, speeding up slightly. In her pregnancy Momo had little patience, often wanting to drain you of all your cum as quickly as she could.

“Cum for Mommy,” Momo whispered into your ear with a smirk, her grip becoming oh so slightly stronger. You groan as she moves her hand along your shaft, her delicate fingers massaging the head as she moves to the tip. You can barely focus on her tits, Momo’s hand never stopped moving. Your groans only get louder, even as you suck on her tits. Momo’s breathy moans grow longer as she pumps your cock, feeling it begin to throb in her hand. “You can cum whenever you like. Mommy knows you have a lot more for her.” Momo cranes her neck, reveling in the pleasure as you flick her sensitive nipple with your tongue. “Mmm, keep going, baby; maybe you’ll get some milk.” Momo moans. You reach up and gently squeeze her breast, drawing milk from her nipple. “Ah! Don’t steal it all.” Momo’s breathing gets heavier as her milk fills your mouth. You feel her hand on the back of your head, keeping you against her chest as the hand on your cock begins to speed up.

You were getting close to cumming, and wanting to last a little longer, you tense your body. As you do, though, you accidentally bite down on Momo’s nipple. She yelps and squeezes down on the tip of your cock, making you cum. Your semen sprays onto her hand, coating it in the sticky substance. You quickly release your bite and pull away, apologizing as Momo continues to stroke your cock. “You can’t be so rough,” Momo says softly, bringing her hand to her lips. She drags her tongue along her hand, happily swallowing your cum.

She lays back on the bed, spreading her legs for you, her bulging belly more noticeable now as you take in her body. Momo notices your stares and places her hand on her belly. “This is yours, I’m yours.” She says with a smile. Momo moves her right hand down to her wet lips, spreading them apart slowly.  You gulp, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at Momo’s body. Grabbing your cock, you inch closer to Momo, your foster sister, your lover, the mother to your soon-to-be child. You rub yourself against her entrance, both of you cooing from the jolt of pleasure. 

Just as you’re about to push inside, the bedroom door opens. “Yah! You said you would wait!” You turn around and see Sana, her cheeks puffed out. “Don’t move! I get to go first!” The flustered woman rushes to take off her dress, slipping the straps off her shoulder and pulling it over her belly until it falls onto the floor. Sana waddles over to the bed, climbing onto it and putting herself beside Momo. The younger woman pouts, her brows furrowed as she looks at the shameless older sister. “You said you wouldn’t start without me.”

“It’s not my fault. He was giving me a massage, and I thought he needed some relief, too.” Momo retorted, a smirk on her face, and a feeling of smugness came over her. She turns to you, “You wanted me to help you, right?” Momo was trying to pin all this on you. You can’t help but appreciate the ridiculousness of her claim, especially when you both knew Sana would side with whatever you said.

Sana turns to you, expecting to hear an honest answer. “Momo seduced me. She started moaning when I was massaging her shoulders.” You tell the younger woman. Momo sticks her tongue out at Sana, who returns it with an angry pout. 

“You guys didn’t wait, so it’s only fair that I get to go first.” Sana says before reaching out for you, “Come on, let’s go,” Sana says, playfully kicking her feet. You move over to her and rub your cock against her slit for a brief moment before pushing into her cunt, her plump lips spreading as you push inside of her. Sana shuts her eyes and moans softly as you fill her; even though sex was a daily tradition at this point, she missed having your cock inside her. She runs her hands down your arms and intertwines her hand with yours, smiling at you as you begin to thrust into her. Momo pouts and gently turns onto her side, reaching over and squeezing one of Sana’s engorged breasts, letting some milk leak from her nipple. 

“Mm, you’re both so mean for leaving me out.” Momo whines, unbothered by the situation, just wanting to remind you both she is still there. The older woman turns Sana’s head and kisses her, continuing to squeeze her foster sister’s tits and adding to the pleasure she was feeling. Sana’s whines were muffled because of the kiss. Momo had teased Sana’s tongue, coaxing the younger woman to poke it out before she began sucking on it. Sana could only moan as you thrust into her cunt; she was being pushed to the edge as you both played with her body. You added to the pleasure, sneaking one of your hands away from Sana’s and using it to brush at her clit. 

“N-no, I don’t want to cum yet,” Sana mumbled with a grimace as she felt the waves of pleasure coming over her faster and faster. Her walls began to tighten around your cock, and her body tensed before she exploded, her cream covering your cock as she came. Sana cried out as you kept thrusting, pushing yourself to the edge.

“Sana, I’m cumming, “ you grunted.

Sana quickly pulled you in, holding you tightly against her chest. “Inside! Cum inside me!” Sana shouts, wrapping her legs around you in an attempt to keep you inside. It made you smile to see her so desperate for it, you were always planning on giving Sana a creampie, and this just made you want to do it more. You bury yourself inside Sana, pumping her full of your semen. Sana breath hitches as she feels your hot cum flow inside her. She smiles, and her body relaxes around you. Momo smiles and pinches the tired woman’s nipple before stealing a kiss from her. 

“Did it feel good?” It was a rhetorical question, but Sana answered anyway.

“As good as always.”

Momo wrinkles her nose before laying back and beckoning you to her. “Now it’s my turn.” The elder sister spread her lips much like before. You rub your cum-covered cock against her entrance, making her giggle. “You’re going to leave me all dirty.”

You lean over the pregnant woman, “You’re always dirty when we’re done.” You whisper into her ear. Momo laughs as you slide your dirty cock inside her, moaning as your thrusts begin. You watch as her tits bounce along with your thrusts. They had only grown bigger since she had gotten pregnant. The same could be said for Sana, but Momo’s breasts often stole the limelight. You held onto Momo’s waist as you thrust, moaning as her tight walls clung to you. 

Despite being tired, Sana still had enough energy to return the favor Momo had given her. She turned on her side and latched onto one of Momo’s breasts, suckling on it as fucked the older woman. “Ah, wait! That’s-” Momo bit her lip, her hums filling the room. You leaned down and latched onto her other breast. Together, you and Sana drank from Momo’s breasts, drinking her sweet milk. “That’s too much.” Momo groaned. Sana smiled, knowing that Momo was already on the verge of cumming because of her whines. She pulled away from her sister’s tit and kissed her, giving Momo a taste of her own milk.  While Sana was doing that, you made sure Momo’s breasts were being pleasured, pulling and pinching the engorged nub. Momo began to writhe, the pleasure overwhelming her.  

“Are you going to cum already?” You ask her, continuing to thrust into her wet cunt. 

Momo nods, weakly saying, “I’m gonna cum. Mommy’s going to cum.”

“Oh, you’re calling yourself mommy? I should do that, too!” Sana adds, smiling as she sees the grimace on Momo’s face. The older woman had prided herself on lasting a long time in bed, but since her pregnancy, she’s been cumming just as quickly as the rest of you. You grabbed Momo’s arms, crossing them under her breasts and holding onto them as you sped up your thrusts. Her tits bounced wildly as you rammed your cock inside her, Momo bit her lip as she tried to hold herself together, but it was futile. 

She cried out as she came, and you followed soon after, your cum pouring into Momo’s cunt. You pull out of Momo and lay on one side of her while Sana lies on the other, using her tiny fingers to pull on Momo’s hard nipple before moving her hand down to Momo’s belly. The older woman does the same, touching Sana’s stomach. “Don’t you think it’s great how big our family is going to get soon?” The cheer in her voice was enough to drag Momo into the conversation despite how tired she was. 

“It’ll be so big. Our little brother is going to keep putting his babies into us. Isn’t that right? Daddy?” Momo says, her voice going into a low, sultry tone as she refers to you as Daddy. 

“Of course, how could I not? Especially when we do it every day.” You say a bit of sarcasm in your voice at the end. Sana laughs, and Momo smiles at you, knowing that for all three of you, it was hard to resist the temptation.

[luveline]

What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?

ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k

Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 

"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"

"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 

"You don't? You're the expert." 

Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 

"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 

"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 

"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 

"Lovely?" 

"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."

Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 

"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 

Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 

"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 

"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 

Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 

Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  

Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 

"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 

"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 

He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 

You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  

"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 

Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 

"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.

"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 

"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 

"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 

Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 

The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 

You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 

You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 

It only feels like years. 

When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 

"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 

"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 

"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 

"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 

"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 

"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 

Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 

"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  

Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 

"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 

"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 

[firewasabeast]

Prompt: tommy breakdown after buck goes through something traumatic, not right after. When buck is all good, tommy starts to shut down, and after a while buck notices and comforts him. Okay thats a long one sorry lol

This is probably not exactly what you wanted, but hopefully it's close enough! This fic features lots of snuggles.

Tommy stayed calm when he heard a firefighter had been seriously injured and air support was needed. He didn't panic when Chimney was the one to start relaying information to him and the flight medics. Even when he heard the words “Firefighter Evan Buckley of the 118” and “impaled” he focused on getting the bird from point A to point B.

When he landed the chopper, Tommy stared straight ahead and let the medics do whatever needed to be done to get Evan ready for transport.

He thought he heard Chimney ask if he should really be the one flying right now. He wanted to say, “Who else is gonna do it? I'm the only pilot here.”

Instead, he simply replied with a yes, then took off with the knowledge that his Evan was being worked on behind him.

He didn't ask how the patient was doing. He didn't listen to whatever the medics said. He did his job and got them to the hospital.

He didn't see Evan's injury until the surgeon met them at the helipad. A large metal rod sticking out of his abdomen. His turnouts had been pulled off of him, undershirt cut open. Blood, both dry and fresh, covering his body.

He had a pulse. Tommy did hear that.

But he looked lifeless.

He looked-

Tommy stopped himself from going there. He heard his coworkers say something about sending another pilot to pick up the chopper. That Tommy should go to the waiting room. He was the emergency contact anyway.

Tommy went. Sat and waited and waited, staring at the white and mint green wall in front of him. At some point, the rest of the 118 filtered in. Then Maddie, Karen, and Athena.

Eddie was on one side of him, Maddie on the other.

He looked down once to find coffee in his hand, but wasn't sure how it got there or who gave it to him.

Eventually, Evan came out of surgery. A success, the doctor said. It'd be a long recovery, but he'd make it.

The first time Evan opened his eyes, Tommy was beside him holding his hand. When Evan's face lit up into a smile, Tommy felt like his whole world just got put back together.

He stayed by Evan's side throughout recovery. Had to be forced into going home for a few hours every couple days for some real food and rest.

Tommy wasn't one for using his sick time, or his vacation time, so he used up what he could once Evan was home so he could continue to care for him until he was fully healed.

It took time, but eventually Evan got to the point where he could return to work on light duty. He couldn't go out on calls, but he could help around the station. After a couple months of barely leaving the house, he was more than ready to deal with paperwork, and cleaning, and cooking.

Three weeks after that, he was fully cleared. In one week, he'd be going out on calls again. Everything would be back to normal. When Evan called him with the news after his doctor's appointment, Tommy had congratulated him. Had picked up a cake after work and they'd celebrated together.

And then Tommy stayed awake all night long.

Evan curled up beside him, softly snoring with his breath hot on Tommy's side. Tommy's hand rubbed up and down his back all night. Right over his newest scar. He had a matching one on his abdomen. Right where the rod stabbed through his body and almost took his life.

No, Tommy didn't sleep that night.

He felt nauseous the next day. Evan noticed, of course, because Tommy was obsessed with his risotto and could barely get half of it down.

“You okay?” Buck asked as they cleared the table.

“Yeah, I think I might be getting a cold or something,” Tommy reasoned. “Sorry.”

Buck smiled at him even as he raised a hand to Tommy's forehead. “You don't have to be sorry for not feeling well. I don't feel a fever.” He moved his hands to Tommy's cheeks, then his neck, then ran his hands down his arms. Tommy knew the drill. The mere mention of not feeling one hundred percent would send Evan into a spiral, even if he did try to keep his face as nonchalant as possible.

“You feeling any congestion? Sore throat? Chills? Fatigue?”

Tommy took a step forward, rested his hands on Buck's cheeks and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I'm okay, Baby. Probably just tired.”

When they went to bed a few hours later, Tommy slept. For a couple hours, at least. He wished he hadn't though, because the nightmare he had felt more graphic than seeing Evan get taken away by the surgeon.

He woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. Thankfully, Evan was out like a light. Tommy got up and headed into the bathroom, turning on the sink to splash some cold water on his face.

He grabbed a washcloth and wet it, wiping the sweat off of him. Then, he pulled off his sweatpants and put on a new pair before getting back into bed.

Once he was back under the covers, he reached over and scooted his hand underneath Evan's body, nudging him until he turned and laid nearly half of his body directly on top of Tommy.

Tommy tugged the covers up until they were over Evan's shoulders, then he wrapped his arms around him and held him tight.

Evan smacked a couple times, burrowing his head further into Tommy's neck. Tommy closed his eyes, breathed him in. Felt Evan's heartbeat against his chest. Listened as his breathing evened back out.

He closed his eyes, but he didn't fall back to sleep.

The next day they both had work, but Tommy ended up getting distracted so many times that his captain wouldn't let him fly. Tommy couldn't even argue with the decision.

They next day, when they both got off shift, Evan arrived a little later than Tommy with burritos in hand.

“They're from your favorite food truck,” Buck told him with a smile. “You haven't been eating much lately, so I wanted you to have something good.”

Tommy didn't have the heart to tell him that the thought of eating made him feel like throwing up. He choked down every single bite of his burrito, then managed to pull Evan into the bedroom for a nap.

Well, sex first, then a nap.

As he laid on Evan's chest, one arm curled up beside him and the other over Evan's pec, he glanced down at the scar. How it raised ever so slightly from the rest of his skin, bright pink against the white.

His chest ached. His eyes burned. The call that he'd forced in one ear and out the other repeated over and over now. “We need an ETA on air support on the Marriott fire downtown! Firefighter Evan Buckley of the 118 has been seriously injured. He fell and was impaled by a metal object. Goes through to his back. Unclear at this time if any major organs were hit, but he's losing a lot of blood and his heartbeat is irregular.”

Tommy didn't realize he'd started crying until Evan stiffened underneath him.

“Tommy?” he asked, his voice soft but concerned. “Babe, what's wrong?” He tried to move them so he could look at Tommy, but Tommy just clung onto him tighter.

He squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a stunted, shaky breath. “Nothing. S'nothing.”

“Well th- that's obviously not true.” He ran his hands through Tommy's hair, then over his shoulders and down his back. “Come on, talk to me. Please.”

Tommy gave himself a second to calm down. He wiped his eyes before he slowly sat up to face Evan. Evan scooted up the bed so he was leaning against the headboard. He took Tommy's hand, moving his head to meet Tommy's eyes as he tried to look away. “Tommy.” He gave his hand a squeeze. “Please, I'm worried.”

“I... I was so scared.” He breathed out the words like he was admitting to some wrongdoing. “Evan, when you... When I heard it was you over the radio, I was terrified.”

Buck pulled Tommy toward him, wrapping him back up in his arms. “I knew something was wrong. I talked to Cap about it. He said not to push.”

“I was trying to be strong for you. I'm not the one who got hurt.”

“You don't ever have to be strong for me, Tommy. You're allowed to feel things.”

Tommy leaned back enough to be able to look at Evan. “I just put myself in survival mode,” he said. “It was all about getting you better. I could focus on that and not worry about anything else. But, now that you are better- which I'm very thankful for- it's... it scares me. I don't ever wanna see you like that again.”

“Me getting the all clear is what did it, isn't it?”

Tommy nodded. “I think it's always been there, the fear. But it definitely got worse as soon as I found out.”

“Why didn't you tell me, Tommy? We're supposed to- to share stuff like this with each other.”

“I didn't want you to think I wasn't supportive of you going back to work. Because I am supportive of it. I know you're excited, and I'm excited for you. I just- I really love you, Evan.”

Buck smiled. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Tommy's in a chaste kiss. “I really love you, Tommy.”

Tommy pulled Evan to him this time, holding him in his arms. “I have no doubt that you'll be as safe as you can possibly be,” Tommy said, his hand finding its way to the scar on Evan's back. “But I'm gonna be worried for a while.”

“I think that means you care,” Buck teased.

“I really, really care.”

“I like that you care.” Buck smacked a kiss onto Tommy's chest. “If it helps, I worry about you every time I hear you're going up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He thought about it for a second. “It does help.”

Buck smiled against his skin. “Good. You think you can sleep now?”

Tommy scooted down until his head rested against the pillow, his and Evan's legs tangling together. “I think I can try.”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Get better, okay?

pairing: lee know x gn!reader

genre: sick fic, fluff

word count: 742

warning/s: none?

a/n: this is just a short drabble bcs i'm sick and medicated. i hope it makes sense bcs at this point i'm hallucinating.💀 hope you like it, if you did please reblog🫶🏻🫶🏻

~check out my: Masterlist

You're standing in your kitchen, cursing yourself cause you're going to be late for work again. You're trying to make some toast as quickly as possible because you know that your boyfriend will nag at you if you didn't have any breakfast.

You hear Minho getting up, his feet shuffling towards the kitchen.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."- you chuckle at his disheveled state, his hair sticking in all directions and a scowl on his cute face.

"I don't feel so well."- he says weakly.

"What?"- the smile on your face fades away, replaced with concern.

You drop what you were doing and come closer to Minho, your wrist on his forehead.

"You're burning up!"- you gasp and he groans.

"Great! Just what I needed."- he rolls his eyes and then winces. "Ugh, headache."- he adds.

"Okay, you go back to bed and I'll call in sick at work and take care of you."- you say.

"I don't wanna be in bed all day!"- he whines. "I've got things to do."

"I know you don't but I'm not giving you any choices. Bed, now."

"That sentence would be hot in different circumstances."- he smirks and you narrow your eyes at him.

"Go to bed, please."- you add desperately.

"Alright, alright, I'm going."- he says and trudges back into your room.

You rummage through the cabinets to find some medicine as you put the kettle on. Sending a quick message to your boss (who was thankfully always understanding), you work around the kitchen, making tea and cutting up some fruit for Minho.

Suddenly, you feel a breath hit your neck and you shriek turning around quickly.

"Minho! What are you doing here? And how did I not hear you?"- you ask, hand on your beating chest.

"I'm bored in bed. And lonely. All alone."- he pouts. You chuckle, having no idea he was clingy when he's sick.

"I'll be right there, honey."- you coo, ushering him towards the room. "You need to lay down."

"But see, I'm fine."

"You're most definitely not."- you say, seeing a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Lay down, please."

He whines again but this time he listens, dragging his feet slowly, making a show of it.

When you're done preparing everything you lay it down on a tray and carry it to your room. You almost melt at the sight, Minho buried in blankets, only his hair and eyes peeking out.

"Let's first check your temperature."- you say.

"Okay, doctor."- he smirks and you shake your head, chuckling at him.

"Wow, your fever is kinda high."- you frown, looking at the thermometer after it beeped.

"Great news."- Minho says sarcastically.

"Here, drink your medicine."- you say and he does so, looking at you with glassy eyes.

"How about some fruit?"- you say and Minho pouts again.

"Feed me?"- he asks and you chuckle.

"You're such a big baby."- you say.

"Am not! Don't you dare tell any of the guys I'm like this when I'm sick. Now, please feed me or I will cry."- he says and you chuckle again, grabbing the plate with the fruit.

"I can't believe my day's been ruined like this. I hate being sick."- your boyfriend whines.

"My grumpy little man."- you smirk.

"I am not little."- he narrows his eyes at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Okay, but you're grumpy."- you lean in and kiss his forehead.

"Missed my lips."- he smirks.

"I didn't."- you tease him. "Anyways, lay down now. You need sleep."- you add grabbing a cloth you brought earlier and getting up so you can put it under water.

"Where you going?"- Minho pouts.

"I'll be right back."- you say, disappearing into the bathroom.

You come back and put the wet cloth on his forehead.

"Oh, that's nice."- he says.

"Do you want me to lay down with you?"- you ask and he whines, making grabby hands at you.

You chuckle and change into more comfortable clothes before crawling into bed.

You put your arms around Minho and he settles on your chest, burying his forehead into your neck.

"I had no idea you were this clingy when you're sick."- you smirk, caressing his head.

"You must be hallucinating."- he mumbles.

"Right... I'm hallucinating."- you giggle.

It's silent for a moment and you think he fell asleep, until you feel his arm tightening around you.

"I love you."- he whispers.

"I love you."- you echo, kissing his head.

"Get better, okay?"

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg

[yearsbecomingcool]

I have somewhat of any idea for the Seth fic maybe readers in the industry and meets him on his scouting trip like that one scene (how did that girl not melt seeing that hot tech nerd suited up) anyways telling you about his company w subtle flirty banter and later calling so he can show you around possibly leading to other steamy things once seeing your work 🤷‍♀️

idk im trash at putting out ideas so do what you will with this im excited for anything you put out for his characters! -⭐️

we're ending it on the phone | seth warshavsky

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | seth warshavsky x adult film star!f!reader

synopsis | after seth tries to recruit you to join his site you call him back with some questions.

warnings | 18+!! mdni!!! sexual content, adult film star!reader, switch!seth, switch!reader, bisexual!reader, inaccurate depictions of the adult film industry, phone sex, mentions of bdsm, panty play, humiliation, degradation and mutual masturbation.

word count | 4.2k

a/n | if you're thinking about watching pam & tommy, don't!! it was made without pamela's permission and knowledge and is beyond disrespectful to her. it's not worth your time and fred has barely any screentime as seth. seth is also just a massive piece of shit in the show and real life so i'm characterizing him very differently in this fic. if you want to watch fred as seth stick to edits and scene packs! this was going to be longer and include them going to his studio for a tour but it just wasn't coming to me like i was hoping it would so i decided to just cut it after the phone sex so i hope that's alright!! i might do a part 2 because i had an idea for another seth fic anyway.

taglist | @slaytheusurper @samslvrgirl @janis01127 @kawaii1kitten @mvnqvinn

Another day another shoot at some barely decorated mansion in the valley. You had been in the business for a little over the year, skyrocketing to popularity pretty quickly for someone so new. You’d practically done it all to get your start, softcore, hardcore, girl on girl, guy on girl, threesomes, orgies, you’d even done a few fetish films. Whatever it took to pay the bills and get you better paychecks you were down for. Today you were filming something completely boring, you’d seen about a million different versions of this but your agent promised the payout would be great so who were you to argue? You’d be playing some spoiled sorority girl fucking her professor to get a better grade, how innovative…

The production company had rented out a mansion for a couple days, a pair set up in every room for filming to make the most out of the money they’d spent renting it. You were scheduled to film in the study room with another actor you’d worked with before, he was nice and your films always turned out great but you were getting sick of filming with the same people constantly. It didn’t help that your filming schedule had been so packed that you had practically lost any and all time for a life outside of work, you were starting to grow bored of it all, you needed to switch it up for a change. When you got ready that morning you didn’t put in that much effort, leaving your face bare and your hair untouched. You trusted the hair and makeup artists would know better than you. You wore your usually filming day outfit, some comfy loungewear and a pair of slip on vans. The drive to the mansion from your apartment wasn’t awful, you’d definitely had longer and shittier commutes before. 

When you arrived the set was buzzing with activity, like always on these big shoots there were people everywhere. The crew was all over the place, you were directed to the basement where the hair and makeup team was set up to get everyone ready. When you walked in there was already a pair filming a penetration scene on top of a bar. Yours was planned to be more than just penetration, there’d be some spanking, restraints, oral, edging, and of course penetration as well. You made your way to the basement, joining the other actors. You made small talk with your scene partner while the girls got you ready, he was a bit older than you and was pretty much always cast in some sort of dominant role. You’d been cast in a multitude of submissive roles lately, you were a little tired of it. You wanted to make someone else come undone for once. Your eyes were heavily lined and smokey and your lips were slathered in so much gloss you could practically feel it weighing you down. You made your way to wardrobe, being dressed in a cropped t-shirt that had the neckline cut off so it slouched off one shoulder, no bra underneath of course. They’d paired it with the tiniest pair of cut off shorts you’d seen in your life, a hot pink thong poking out the back, the strings pulled up onto your hips. 

They offered you a robe to wear until shooting started but you declined, heading upstairs to go smoke by the pool. As you head up the stairs you see a man, if you can really call him that. He looked college aged and completely out of place in his suit that was a bit too big for him, the arms fit just a bit too long. His blonde hair had been styled nicely, he was trying to look powerful but instead looked like a kid playing in his fathers suit. He looks up at you with a smile, beckoning you over. You glanced around the room, considering if you should, but your curiosity got the best of you and you made your way over to him. He reached out to shake your hand, “I think I’ve seen you before.”

You roll your eyes at his shitty opener, shaking his hand. “If you’re a perv, which you probably are, then I’d assume you have. What are you doing here exactly?”

He eyes you shamelessly, “I’m Seth Warshavsky, I’m here for a few days trying to scout some talent. You seem like you’d be a good fit for what I’m looking for.”

You sigh, “Listen, if you’re trying to get me to switch over to your production company you’ll have to talk to my manager. I’ve been with this one like my whole career, I don’t think they’re gonna be happy if I jump ship now.”

He nods but he’s not really listening. “Just give me a chance to explain. I think you’ll like what I’m offering. You obviously enjoy what you do but aren’t you tired of getting fucked how someone else chooses? Wouldn’t you want a chance to enjoy your shoots more? This would be porn all on your own terms, you pick what you do what, what you wear, how you look. Doesn’t that sound better than all this?” He nods his head in the direction of the pair shooting on the couch, the man is plowing into her at a punishing pace, her moans sound faker than ever. You know she’s not actually enjoying herself.

“What exactly are you proposing here, Seth?” You ask, leaning against the wall. 

He hands you his card, “Internet Entertainment Group. We’re based in Seattle, we run a cam site, the highest quality available. All the other companies trying to get into online porn don’t have a chance against us. You’d make your own schedule, you’d pick what you wanna do for your streams. You’d have all the control. It would just be you, a camera, and the live stream chat. People would pay per minute, pay to request certain things, they’d be able to tip. There’s a lot more money in it than you’d think. Why don’t you give me a call tonight after you’ve had time to think about it, yeah?”

You take his card, stuffing it into your carton of cigarettes. “I’ll think about it…”

“And what was your name? I don’t think I caught it.”

You smirk, “That’s because I didn’t tell you my name. Just call me Vixen.”

He nods, “Alright then, Vixen. I’ll be expecting a call from you later, yeah?”

“If I remember,” you say, walking away to go smoke out back. 

You lounge outside by the pool, sitting on an unoccupied deck chair and smoking with another actress. “Did he ask you to join his little company too? I’ve heard from a few other girls that he’s been making his way all over Cali to try and recruit some girls for his site.” Asks Gigi. You’ve known her since you started, she’s only a few years older than you are and was one of the first bigger names you got to work with.

“Yep. Kind of shitty to come onto our sets where we’re working to recruit, don’t you think?”

She takes a drag from her cigarette, her bubblegum pink lipstick staining it. “Mhm, he’s one of those Silicon Valley tech bros trying to revolutionize whatever industry they can get their hands on. I don’t know why he doesn’t stream himself, he’s cute enough.”

You laugh, “Oh I’d pay to see that. What do you think he’d be like?”

Gigi hums, trying to imagine it. “Hmm…maybe he’d be one of those whiny types. He’s cocky but I doubt he has the stamina to back it up.”

“I do like the whiny ones…there’s no better feeling than pulling a man's hair and hearing him whimper like a little bitch,” you giggle, taking a drag from your cigarette. You watch from the deck chair as he approaches another girl, he’s much shorter than her, it’s quite entertaining to watch him try to sell his idea to women who have no interest in what he’s selling.

“Amen to that…” 

You hate to say it but the longer you film the more you think of Seth's offer, getting paid to masturbate and talk sounds like a dream. Obviously it’s a lot more than just jacking off and yapping but as your scene partner pounds into you pleasurelessly it starts to sound more and more appealing. You can picture it now, dressed up all pretty on a bedroom set, spreading yourself open in front of a camera, taking your time with your pleasure. Teasing yourself for your viewers, letting them think they have control, taking their money while you get yourself off. Okay it’s definitely more appealing than whatever the hell Jack is doing to you right now. You fight the urge to move his hand to your clit, you’d done it before and gotten yelled at for going off script. Your moans get more and more fake as it goes along. By the end of the day you’re sore, sticky, and in desperate need of a shower. 

Once you get home you’re quick to strip off your clothes and jump into the shower, you spend your time getting yourself clean, letting the warm water wash over you as you massage the muscles in your arms. You make a mental note to go to a massage parlor sometime this week, it’s been too long since you’ve been and you know you’re gonna feel like shit in the morning. Once you get into bed you start to think of Seth’s offer again, you grab your purse off your nightstand and dig your carton of cigarettes out of the bag. You pull the business card out of where you’d stashed it earlier and flip it around to look at the number. You chew at your lower lip trying to decide if you should call, you tap your manicured nails against the phone sitting on your nightstand before muttering, “Fuck it…” and dialing the number. 

You nervously play with the phone cord as you hear it ring, it goes on for a while and you consider just hanging up but finally he picks up. “Hello?” His voice is raspier than normal, you glance at the clock. Shit, it’s 1am, you probably woke him up.

“Hey it’s-” you almost say your real name, “Vixen…we uh, we met earlier today at that shoot in the Valley.”

He chuckles, carding his fingers through his hair. “I remember you, I didn’t expect you to call if I’m being honest.” You can hear the TV playing faintly in the background. He picks up the remote to pause the VHS he was playing.

“Yeah? You didn’t think you sold me on it?” You tease, laying back against your pillows, making yourself comfortable. Something about his voice is starting to make you want to dip your hand between your thighs, he could read the dictionary aloud and it would still get you squirming.

“If you want me to be honest I really didn’t, you seemed pretty set on staying with your job. How was that shoot, by the way? You looked nice…” He glances up at his TV, he had gone to a video store by his hotel and rented a few of your films. Your latest film, ‘Sorority Sluts II’, sits paused on the screen. You’re tied up on the screen, a panty gag stuffed hastily into your mouth. Your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure as another woman presses a wand to your clit. He has to admit you’re his favorite he’s watched so far, your moans could be enough to make him come. 

“Do you want the truth? I mean, have you worked in the industry outside of your little cam site?” You ask, thinking back on your shoot from earlier.

“I worked as a production assistant for a bit but besides that it’s really just been cams…so why don’t you give me a little scoop into the reality of being a big time pornstar…” He jokes.

His laugh makes your cheeks heat up, he sounds cute when he laughs. “When I first started I never would’ve thought I’d say this but it was so goddamn boring…I used to enjoy it but after a certain point it all got monotonous I guess. They really want us to stick to the script so there’s not a lot of room for real pleasure, y’know?”

“So you are faking it on these tapes?”

Your face scrunches up in confusion, “Are you watching my work? I’m flattered that I looked so hot when you saw me today you just had to go out and buy all my tapes…”

He scoffs, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, babe. I actually rented them. I just wanted to get more…familiar with your work just in case you called.” The lotion and tissues sitting on the nightstand begs to differ.

“Yeah, so what do you think, am I any good?”

He rolls his eyes, “Are you kidding me? You’re a fucking star. If you come to work for me I really think you could make more than you are right now, you’d have more fun too. I bet you sound so pretty when it’s real, people are over the scripted shit, they want to see something real. Why do you think sex tapes are getting so popular now?”

“You have a lot of good points…I really have to talk to my manager about this though. I have a contract and everything too…” you sigh.

“But you want to do it? Is that what I’m hearing?” You can practically hear his smile through the phone. His eyes flick back to you on his screen and he licks his lips.

“Yeah, I am. It sounds nice, it sounds better than what I’m doing now.”

“It will be, I promise. Every girl who’s switched over is making way more now.”

You look up at the ceiling, wetting your lips with your tongue. “Which film of mine were you watching when I called?” You ask curiously, starting to spread your legs. You start to trail your hand between your thighs as you wait to hear what he says.

“‘Sorority Sluts II’. You play a lot of sorority girls huh?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the studio decided I just fit the look I guess…what do you think of it?”

His eyes widen, he can tell what you’re really trying to ask. “The way these girls are hazing you is pretty hot. This seems like it would’ve been a fun shoot…how many of these moans were fake?”

You think back to when you filmed it, “Not many are fake in that one actually. The humiliation films are always able to get me off so easily. I mean can you really blame me? All these pretty girls pinning me down and making fun of me, stripping me down, getting me off…that shoot was a fucking dream…”

“So should I be looking to see if any of the girls would want to stream with you then?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Are you taking notes right now, you fuckin’ nerd?”

“No! I just-” You cut him off.

“Turn off the business part of your brain for like five minutes…you have a nice voice, like really fucking nice. Like I would get off to you reading the dictionary nice…I…what are you wearing right now, Seth?” You haven’t felt this nervous since you were a teenager trying to not get caught having phone sex with your first girlfriend. 

He chuckles, laying back and “Are you trying to have phone sex with me right now?”

“Yeah…do you…do you not want to have phone sex with me?” You sound pathetic. 

He laughs, “I do, I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“So…what are you wearing Seth?”

He sighs playfully, “That’s really the line you’re going with here? You’re a pornstar and that’s the best you can give me? C’mon babe, you can do better than that.”

“Okay to be fair I didn’t write any pornos, I just starred in them okay!” You say defensively.

“Fine…I’m wearing,” Seth looks down at his outfit, “A white t-shirt and some black boxer briefs. What about you, babe?”

“I’m wearing a white tank top and some white panties with a cherry print on them.”

He chuckles, “Cherries huh? Cute.” He tries to picture you laying in bed wearing them.

You chew nervously at your lower lip, “Did you get hard watching my films?”

“How could I not? You looked fucking amazing…you look so good tied up and writhing under their touch. The way you’re just helpless and at their mercy…god…” He can’t help but reach down and squeeze himself through his underwear. His eyes flicker over to the screen, your face scrunched up in ecstasy.

“You wanna tie me up, Seth? Use a vibrator on me, or maybe eat me out? You seem good with your mouth, you think you could make me come undone for you?” You ask, your hand trailing down to your panties. You play with the frills that line the waistband.

“Of course I could, I’d have you writhing in seconds,” he says cockily.

“You sound so confident,” you giggle. 

“I have the proof to back it up…do you wanna start touching yourself for me?”

“Mhm, where should I start?” You feel nervous, as if you’re a teenager again.

“Start by playing with your tits over your tank top, play with your nipples too. Get them hard for me, close your eyes and pretend it’s me doing it,” he instructs. 

You use your shoulder to keep the phone in place as you trail your hands down to your breasts, you close your eyes and knead at your flesh, whining softly into the phone. Seth smiles when he hears you, “So fucking pretty…” 

You roll your nipple between your thumb and forefinger, whimpering his name as you squirm under your own touch. Seth teases himself over his underwear as he listens to you whine and squirm, “If I was there with you I’d mark up those perfect tits, make sure the next time someone saw you undressed they knew who had you last. You going to set with my marks all over you…I wouldn’t start with your tits though, I’d pull you into my lap to straddle me first. I’d kiss you, soft at first, get you nice and comfortable before I pull you closer by your hair. I bet you’d whimper like a little bitch, wouldn’t you? I’ve seen how you take pain, it’d be so pathetic. I’d kiss down your neck, mark you up there too, leave marks in places not even a turtleneck could hide. Then I’d move onto your tits, I’d be rough just to keep those sad little whimpers going. Biting at your sensitive tits, pulling and twisting at your nipples, god I bet it’d get you wet so quick. You’d like it, wouldn’t you?”

You whine at his words, nodding as if he can see you. “I’m already wet just from imagining it…I’d be a fucking mess in your lap. If you think I’m whiny now just wait till you get me in your lap for real. I’m not like I am in my films y’know, in real life I get so much more pathetic, much more squirmy. You’d probably like that, huh?”

“‘Course I would, a pretty girl whining and squirming in my lap is like my perfect wet dream.” He chuckles. He reaches over to the nightstand and pumps some lotion into his hand. He ducks his hand beneath his waistband, wrapping his hand around his cock. “Touch yourself for me, do it over your panties. Y’know what, grab the waistband for me and tug those pretty little things up your cunt. Make it tight for me, hold it in place and play with your clit over your panties.” 

“You want me to give myself a wedgie?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, it’s an odd request.

“Don’t think of it like that, just try it for me, yeah? It’ll feel good, trust me.”

Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you reach down, curling your fingers around the frilly waistband of your panties. You sigh, embarrassment filling your chest as you slowly pull up the waistband. The cotton fabric pulls taut against your cunt creating a friction you would’ve never imagined could be so pleasurable. You whine as you hook your fingers into the leg holes, tugging it up, starting to feel it push your lips apart. “Seth…I can’t believe you’re making me do this, it’s so embarrassing…” You whine, your hips bucking up involuntarily as you pull harder. The fabric presses against your clit making every move even more pleasurable. 

“If it’s so embarrassing why are you doing it and whimpering like it gets you off, hm? Keep pulling for me, be a good girl. Make it tight. Pull till you can’t take it anymore.” 

You whimper as you tug the fabric between your lips, holding it tight against your cunt. It’s biting into you painfully but despite that you’re soaking the fabric. You can feel your cunt pulse around it, clenching at the fabric. “I-I think it’s tight enough…”

He smiles, pumping his cock at a teasingly slow pace. “Play with your clit for me, soak those panties like the good girl I know you are.” 

You start to rub your clit over the taut fabric, the added friction from your panties makes you whine even louder into the phone. You grind your hips against your hand, “Stop teasing and let me play with myself properly.” 

“Hm…why should I?” He teases.

“I gave myself a fucking wedgie for you, don’t be a dick!” You groan in frustration.

“Fine…go on, you can touch yourself.”

You slowly pull your panties back down, the crotch soaked with your juices. You wince at the unexpected burn as you pull your panties out of your most sensitive area. You slowly insert two fingers inside of yourself, using your thumb to play with your clit. You’re mumbling into the phone, “Seth, you gonna let me come tonight? Gonna get off to my moans again? How many of my tapes did you jack off too tonight, hm?”

He starts to pump his cock at a faster pace, “Fuck…four? I think, yeah, four. I haven’t finished the one that's on right now.”

An idea pops into your head and you smile at the thought, “You wanna finish that tape while you’re on the phone with me? Wanna tell me what’s happening in it?”

“Yes ma’am…” He presses play on the remote, the tape starting up again. He starts narrating the tape to you, “You’re tied up, a blonde woman is pressing the hitachi wand to your clit. You’re moaning like a pathetic little bitch, writhing around, trying to escape the sensation. God you’re fucking helpless to it, poor baby can’t help but enjoy it.” His pupils are blown as he jacks off. Your movements speed up as well, imagining he’s the one doing it to you. 

“I sound pathetic, yeah? Do I sound like this?” You start to imitate your moans and whimpers from your tapes. That really gets him going, he squeezes his hand around his cock.

“If you do this I won’t last much longer,” he whines.

“Good,” you laugh breathily. 

“You gonna sound this pretty on stream, baby?”

You roll your eyes, “What’d I say about business talk, hm?”

“Sorry…sorry…just imagining you all dolled up teasing your viewers. Bet you’d use toys and tease yourself for ‘em…pretty girl edging herself for her audience…” He trails off, imagining your future streams.

“I’m gonna be your favorite, hm? Gonna spend your days jackin’ off to me ‘stead of doing work, aren’t you? Fuckin’ pervert…bet you like me talking mean like this, don’t you? Admit it, Seth. Tell me how much you like it, you fucking perv.”

Your words go straight to his cock and he can feel himself getting closer, “Of course you’re gonna be my favorite…prettiest fucking girl I’ve ever seen, might have to pay you for a private stream sometime…” He’s practically fucking his hand at this point. The two of you are a mess of  moans and whines, his narration of the tape quickly stopping as he feels himself getting closer. 

“Gonna come…let me come, please…” You mumble. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, you need release more than you need air. 

“You can come baby…come whenever you need, such a good girl, already earned it,” he mutters, hips bucking up against his hand. 

It doesn’t take much longer for the both of you to come, he’s first, your name mixed in with a few swears spilling from his lips. The same comes from you only seconds later, curling into yourself as you work yourself through your orgasm. The only sound coming from the phones is the two of you trying to catch your breath.

“Are you gonna come see the studio?” He asks, his voice softer now.

“Mhm…gonna talk with my manager ‘bout it, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Good girl…thank you for calling, I had a nice time with you,” he says shyly.

You can’t help but smile at how soft his voice got, “So did I…I’ll call you again sometime, promise.” You hang up before he can get another word in. You look up at the ceiling, “What the hell did I just do?”

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Masterlist & Request Guidelines

Requests are closed right now, but the Masterlist is always open! 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST

Olivia Benson (Law & Order: SVU)

Can You Stay?

Texts from Olivia Benson

Eyes Open

When Worlds Collide (x daughter!reader)

Alex Blake (Criminal Minds)

What You Want (18+)

Inside Your Head

Texts from Alex Blake

Haircut

Alex Cabot (Law & Order: SVU)

Alex Cabot x Reader Headcanons

After General Anesthesia

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x Reader SFW Headcanons

What You Give

Texts from Alex Cabot (18+)

Carol Danvers (Marvel)

Forgetting

Find Your People (x sibling!reader)

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

A Hard Day

Just Playing

Headcanons: Coming Out to Rosa Diaz as Transmasc

Passenger Princess

A Little Lunch

Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds)

N/A

Lee Harker (Longlegs)

Cocooned

The Halloween Party

Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds)

The Dogs

The Intruder

Fight or Flight (x daughter!reader)

Texts from Jennifer "JJ" Jareau (18+)

The Aftermath

Johanna Mason (The Hunger Games)

Home Again

Casey Novak (Law & Order: SVU)

Clueless

Someone Will See

First Time (18+)

Sunday Mornings

She Likes You Anyway

Empty House (18+)

You're Safe Now

Home for the Holidays

Take Me Out to the Ball Game (18+)

I Need You To

Your Brother's Wedding

Casey Novak x Reader Headcanons

After General Anesthesia

Panic! At the DA's Office

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x Reader SFW Headcanons

May the Fourth Be With You

Changes

With the Crack of a Bat

Just One Kiss

Texts from Casey Novak

They Go Low

Getting Older, Too

Interrogations

When Worlds Collide

Frozen Oranges

Maggie Pierce (Grey's Anatomy)

Just as Friends

Emily Prentiss (Criminal Minds)

The Surprise Series Masterlist

Coming Out

Let Me Keep You Safe (18+)

Emily Prentiss x Reader Headcanons

Shelter from the Storm

Don't Lie to Me

Burning (18+)

Tracing You

Tiny (x daughter!reader)

Doxxed

Control (18+)

The World's Largest Box of Condoms (x daughter!reader)

Touchy (18+)

Texts from Emily Prentiss (18+)

White Fang

Arizona Robbins (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Natasha Romanoff (Marvel)

N/A

Amelia Shepherd (Grey's Anatomy)

Sick Call

Aces

Tea for Two

Strap Up (18+)

Postpartum (18+)

Playing It Safe (18+)

You're Mine (18+)

The R Word

Left Unsaid (18+)

Texts from Amelia Shepherd (18+)

Callie Torres (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Cristina Yang (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

REQUEST GUIDELINES

If you have requests for characters outside of the above, please feel free to send them on anyway! The above are just characters I've written for before. If I'm familiar with the character/source material and the request meets my parameters, I'll be happy to give it a shot!

PARAMETERS:

I only write for characters who are women. No men here. Sorry, folks.

I only write x reader. I don't really enjoy writing about already-existing relationships or character ships. I've done a couple of x daughter!reader and x sibling!reader fics, and I'm happy to do them, but to be honest I very much prefer romantic fics.

I only write for readers and characters with v*lvas. I absolutely welcome non-binary/gender non-conforming characters/readers. Just be aware that, where smut is concerned, I only feel confident writing about humans with v*ginas.

I don't feel comfortable writing dark!characters or smut that's degrading. Kinks and other smut-related requests I take on a case-by-case basis. But I absolutely will not write anything that even gets close to the line of non-consensual. No shade to you if the above are things you enjoy reading/writing, they're just personally not for me.

Autistic readers are so welcome! I love reading and writing x autistic!reader fics!

I do feel comfortable writing about the aftermath of trauma (sexual or otherwise), most mental illnesses, etc. I enjoy a good hurt/comfort fic and, as someone who's dealt with both of the above, I know it can be very comforting to read something that makes you feel like you're cared for and safe.

I also really enjoy writing headcanons, so feel free to request those as well! The same rules apply for headcanons that apply for fics.

Send those requests on, bbs!

[charlybvnny]

Michael's final moment

A Michael_Beloved animatic about his final moments, because he is an underappreciated character, and has so much potential.

A ramble about him under cut.

TWs:

- bugs

- bones

- talk of death and decay

- I think there is a slight flash but I'm unsure? So flashing warning just in case

michael is an underated npc / character and people should utilise his dynamic more often. i will explain:

he's stuck, he has nothing to do, nothing he can do. because he's an npc, his life will never begin because he's not living. people overlook him and don't pay him mind, his own parents don't pay attention to him. it's not that they don't love him, they do, they just don't have the time nor ability to look after him, atleast not properly.

people treat him more like a glorified pet because he is still an npc, no one should, realistically, love him like a son, at most he is a pet. but he's one of, if not the only, npc on the dsmp that is canonically considered a son, not a pet. shroud is technically a pet, yoghurt is i think considered fundy's son? but if you check on the wiki, michael is the only one of actual listing and not just an addition of another. michael is his own person, and yet is still an npc. he can't do anything, and yet is his own someone. he is someone, not someone's addition. he's not tubbo's son, or ranboo's son, he is michael.

and yet he's still stuck in his room. still stuck having to go along with other people's wills. because he is code. he can't do anything but follow his code.

and so with the charactarization of michael, making him his own person, it allows him the ability to think, yet not do. "i think therefore i am" and yet he can't think. not actually. he still has to follow his code. if you hit him, he must attack back, its in the code. so you can characterize and personalise michael all you want, give him hopes, and dreams, give him depth, but in the end, he is an npc. he can't leave his room, he can't make friends, he can't go explore. he is stuck in his room. just like how rapunzel is stuck in the tower.

in this essay i will explain why michael's song is "when will my life begin"-

[shots fired i bleed out as someone drags my body away]

Ok but in actuality, the rotting aspect of Michael is so great for potential in fics;

michael can be used in fics and i'm heartbroken people don't. see, michael is a zombie piglin, he is quite literally rotting. he is a sick, dying child of neglect and no one uses this to their advantage. do no fic writers see the potential devestating catastrophe of michael? how angsty it could be if he's used right?

I like Michael, can you tell 🥺

And you don't even need him to be a piglin in fics either, he could be a dying plant, or an injured yet beloved pet. He has potential please people listen to me 😭🙏

You can make him disability rep, please I love disabled characters in fics (if done right) and there's so much potential here.

I was messaging my friends while making this too, and I was shattering their very souls with my angst, and the thing is, you can shatter your friend's souls with angst too! Please use Michael, even if he's just a side character in your fic, if you got Tubbo, or Ranboo, please include Michael in some form, like a melted candle, or a torn doodle.

Anyways continuing on with angst!

They say the eyes are the route to the soul, and I like to think piglins only die when their souls are damaged. Only when their light fades.

Michael's usually twinkling eyes, now dull and a sullen blue, holding nothing but pure sorrow, and childish hope now shattered. His parents aren't coming. No one is coming. He's going to die alone. He's going to die, without embracing his parents one last time.

His body so decayed and rotten his ribs are fully out, spiders finding a new home where his once beating heart of love was, and yet he allows them to stay, allowing the bugs to feast on his carcass, because it's something. It's another being simply touching him. And so he lets the bugs eat his dying self, because at least it's something, a distressing comfort to accompany his final moments.

He's not alone. Not yet. It's fine. He's not alone. He won't die alone.. he thinks with his last thoughts, salty tears prickling his eye as he tries to comfort himself, just as his parents would if they were here.

I hope you cry, I hope you sob, I hope those silvery drops of sorrow prick your eyes and roll down your cheeks. If you are angry at me, perhaps you should scream into the bottomless pit of my soul, maybe a shard of guilt might scream back one day. Today's not the day though.

[jennifer-jeong]

Guess who😊

As a reference to what you posted earlier, imagine that after the reader dies of old age, Xiao and Scaramouche encounter a reincarnation of themselves? It's your choice to make them mortal or not (I'm under your bed. If you make them mortal I will kick your feet at night.)

Take your time dear <3

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FJDKSLA;FJDSA; life has been kicking my ASS but fuck it we ball HELLO MY MUTUAL THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST, I’ve honestly been thinking hard because I want to also request some ideas because your writing is so sweet ehehehe OK PLEASE DON’T KICK MY FEET AT NIGHT THAT’S HORRIFYING - I WILL MAKE THE REINCARNATION IMMORTAL

ALSO @iota1111 these are my ideas for that Xiao and Wanderer angst! If you read only to the *** in each fic, that would be where I’d end the story if it wasn’t meant to be a happy ending! (I would suffer!!!!)

Fluff + Angst | Xiao/Wanderer x GN!Reader Reincarnation

CONTENT Angst to fluff, happy ending, reader death, mentions of death, mentions of fighting/them taking their anger out on things

XIAO

When you passed away, Xiao was absolutely heartbroken. He knew it was coming, he prepared for it, he stayed by your side through your deteriorating health in your last few months. But no matter what, he knew it would destroy him, and it did.

No one saw Xiao for weeks after but everyone noticed that Liyue was safer than ever. Xiao engrossed himself in his work. Taking out his emotions onto the monsters in Liyue. He worked himself to exhaustion every single day. Zhongli still came to check up on him but knew Xiao just needed time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. What was he supposed to do? You were gone. HIs sunshine, his muse, his… everything.

Xiao collapsed after giving himself no rest for who knows how many nights. Laying in the grass, he stared up at the moon. Asking himself what he could’ve done differently and if he could’ve "selfishly" extended your life. If he could’ve made you immortal like him.

He listened to the bugs chirp around him, the breeze drying the tears he didn’t know were falling. For the first time in a long time, he cried. He sobbed and bit back the urge to lash out at everything in the vicinity. He was on his side, clutching his aching heart, crying into the soft grass he used to lay on with you.

He had gone through so much pain in his life: his karmic debt, the abuse from his old master, losing his found family, and all the years of deafening solitude.

But nothing would ever hurt more than losing you.

Xiao cried his heart out and knocked out from the exhaustion and pain. He slept peacefully for the first time since you passed. *** Xiao woke up the next morning with a start. Confused and disoriented not because of where he had fallen asleep, but because he sensed something insane.

He sensed you.

It was your soul, the one he swore himself to. There was no denying it. Was this a sick joke? Was some old evil spirit messing with him?

It had been months since your passing but there was no denying it. It was you.

Unfortunately, years would pass while Xiao searched for you. He was obsessed over it at first but once he could tell that your soul was safe and alive, he relaxed just a little. He still wanted to see you again, hold you, and whisper how much he loved you, but he knew you’d find each other eventually. He made himself a silent promise that he’d find you no matter what. He didn’t really have much else to do for all of eternity anyways.

Xiao confided in Zhongli through these years, the elder god revealing the possibility of reincarnation, revealing that it’s not uncommon. Souls return to the Earth in many forms but he hints to Xiao that he believes what he’s sensing is indeed you in human form.

Eventually, Xiao would be on a typical nightly patrol, sensing your soul nearby as always. But it was a bit different today. It was stronger.

As if right on cue, Xiao entered a clearing and despite it being nighttime, he saw the sun.

His beautiful sun had somehow risen again against all odds. You didn’t know his name but you knew his soul.

He recognized the sigil on your clothing, it belonged to an adeptus master he hadn’t seen in decades. The draconic horns on your head told him you were reborn in a different body, an immortal body. One that had you trained as an adepti for these past years, likely hidden away in a domain. It clicked in his head. It’s why he could always sense you, but never quite find where you were.

You turned around after feeling his approach. He wondered if you could feel his soul the way he felt yours. If you longed for him even in your new existence. He had so much to ask. But you pulled him out of his noisy thoughts.

Your voice brought him serenity he had long forgotten.

His heart pounded as you spoke.

“I missed you, my love.”

Instantly you were in each other's arms.

“I missed you too,” he says as his voice cracks.

WANDERER

He was angry, reverting back to how he was before Nahida, the traveler, and you helped him. He blamed the gods, the world, for his sorrows, for his pain. He sought to destroy it all again for somehow making his suffering worse. He had felt pain similar to this. It was all too familiar for him. The constant cycle of loss, betrayal, and agony. But this time, he was on the brink of insanity.

You, his perfect flower, had finally wilted.

He’s stuck bargaining for months, reverting between stages of grief: anger and bargaining. Never able to move on past that.

He continues on his missions for Nahida because he knows it’s what you've wanted but also because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. Any of his combat missions turned into tortures and near assassinations. He used it as a tool to cool himself off, much to the silent disapproval of Nahida. But she knew he’d never disobey your wishes, your morals. You taught him better than to kill out of emotion.

Wanderer commonly visits the forests where you two used to adventure to find some sort of peace and familiarity. He tends to avoid the Aranara despite the fact that they know about your passing and would probably be able to comfort him about it. He just didn’t think he could handle it.

Seasons pass and on one of his trips into the sunny lush forests, growing again due to the spring season, Aranara bring him your favourite flowers when they bloom again the next year. They loved you dearly too, you treated them and the forest with such gentleness that they could never forget you. They didn’t know how to approach him earlier so they used this opportunity instead.

His heart ached and his anemo vision surged with energy when he saw the flower. He finally reached his breaking point, he fell to his knees on the grass and sobbed, clutching the flower to his chest. Letting go of all the stupid anger and bargaining. Who was he kidding, he just didn’t want to accept that he’d have to keep going without you. *** The Aranara tell him not to worry though, comforting and telling him it will be okay. At first he’s confused as to what they mean but Nahida walks out into the sunlit clearing, the sun about to start setting.

She tells him she knows it hurts but that the Irminsul has a message for him and it says that he should not fret and continue to live on and explore the forest. His tear stained face raised an eyebrow but it slowly turned to determination, he knew Irminsul would not lie.

It would take years but he slowly started to feel you nearby. He’d dream of you. The forest felt like you and he could feel your energy in the flora. He confided in Nahida and their bond only grew stronger, he’d also reach out to the Aranara when he’d adventure out of the city.

Eventually, the Aranara prepared and held a ceremony, sensing the birthing of something new, a nature spirit. Nahida described it using the term “nymph.”

Wanderer was silent as he put the pieces together. He held his breath as he realized it might be you. Your reincarnation.

He always saw you as his flower, but he didn’t think you’d become a nature spirit, he was not complaining about it in the slightest though.

Nahida explained that you would exist in the physical realm but had strong ties to the dream realm, you’d be immortal like Aranara are but you’d still be able to live with him in the physical.

As you manifested and blinked open your eyes, you immediately looked at him.

His hands were shaking, unsure if he was scared, happy, both? Was it really you? Had the world finally decided to grant him happiness instead of sorrow? Was this a gift?

But as you took gentle steps towards him, he realized something important:

It didn’t matter.

You were here again, in front of him. Nothing else mattered.

You reached out to hold his face with your hands. You knew him, you knew your soul belonged to him and his to you.

He drew in closer to you, holding your face and touching your foreheads together, tears threatening to fall.

Your beautiful voice spoke to him again in what felt like an eternity. He had almost forgotten what you sounded like.

“Don’t cry my love, I’m here.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his tears fell. He wraps his arms around you tight, never wanting to let go, scared you’d leave him again.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered shakily, scared that his voice would fail if he tried to speak.

“I missed you too. I’m here to stay.”

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[dadvans]

i am just so sad right now. like going into s8 i didn’t think bucktommy would be endgame, but the way s8 started changed my mind, so to have them be literally so in love for 5 episodes straight just to have them break up in the most abrupt way?? it just feels so last minute which is shocking because in the interviews this was apparently a planned thing but it doesn’t feel like it at all. Like if this was a concern Tommy had why didn’t it come up at all? like little throwaway lines of Tommy making jokes of Buck getting sick of him or wanted to explore other options or whatever. I hope the backlash makes them rethink, and Tommy comes back but for now it doesn’t seem like it. I guess my only hope is that Buddie goes canon, but even then i won’t be able to really enjoy it. I seriously don’t know if i’ll be able to keep watching the show, not solely because they broke up, but because of how they broke up. (srry for the long ask, just needed to vent)

no apologies needed!

at the end of the day, so many of us found joy in their story, their chemistry, the way even up until the final second tommy admitted that what he wanted with buck was something that would inevitably break his heart.

they were good together. tommy fit into so many intimidating parts of buck's life with ease. tommy is (as far as we know) still good friends with buck's best friend! tommy loved him anyway, loved him warts and all, road shotgun to buck's worst fears and weirdest conspiracies.

at the end of the day, we have a few things:

we GOT them. we got to see them together, we got the soft looks, we got the kisses, the foundation of them that is real and canon in a way we could strike like a match against the edge of a box to light them up for real all over again. i don't think "being canon" gives any credence or superiority to a ship, and have shipped people or characters that have never interacted/existed together in a tangible way, simply because it's FUN. that's how i'll always have fun with ships and fandom, BUT! what a wonderful thing to celebrate that we DID have them, that we have this as a foundation for whatever comes next, that there is never a door permanently closed to them finding each other again when it was already real from the start

for a lot of us, this isn't how their story ends. it's insane that so much fic and content was produced for a canon ship like this. so often fandom is chasing down the what-ifs and never-hads. a lot of us invested in bucktommy because they had the compatibility, the fit, the chemistry, the potential. that's novel shit! that doesn't just evaporate because they broke up in canon. it certainly hurts. the kind of hype we were surfing will crash and sink back in the oncoming months, but i know talking to a lot of people tonight that we aren't done with this ship. we aren't ready to say goodbye.

i'm sad. i'm angry. i felt a real sense of queer euphoria whenever i saw them together, even for 30 seconds, teetering on the edge of this new couple joy learning each other into something new and weird and fun that always lingered as a promise on the edge of their interactions. i was so excited for who buck could become with tommy as his home base. shifting that has rocked me in a bad way.

i expect people to inevitably step away from this ship and this fandom, but i'll mention that non-canon ships like arthur/eames or mcshep or social network rpf or short-lived shows from 1996 (hi sentinel) have had long-lived fandoms and left long-lasting impressions in other fandoms that have lasted for over a decade of zero additional content. this is a playground that, just because they've parted ways for now, we don't have to stop playing in.

and i'll be honest: i have several WIPs i'm like, well trash that! after watching the most recent episode. but i also have a dozen new ideas. new ways they could fall in love now or again, new ways they could meet, new ways they could be for each other.

i'll keep creating. i'll keep dreaming. they won't ever not have the spark that they had. the show could end tomorrow but we'll always have an open door to believing and shaping the thousands of ways they can and will find each other again.

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

[hvnsinureyes]

𝒾'𝓋𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊. . . | stephen curry

request | "can you pleaseee write steph being husband ishhh"

warnings | fluff— reader is sick, steph takes care of her!

author’s note | so guess who’s sick! meeee! im lowkey pissed abt it but it's wtv :( idk if i’ll be posting a lot this weekend, but i am close to finishing another austin fic!

ALL IT TOOK WAS one sneeze. a second one. then, another.

and when you reached over to grab a tissue, steph just knew. you were sick. there was no escaping him when he realized, he practically cornered you in the kitchen when he heard it. not before saying bless you, of course.

and as much as steph is an amazing shooter, he is also one of the most caring people you know. and very stubborn too, never backing down until he gets what he wants. that's why you could barely resist when you were suddenly bundled up in warm sheets and blankets, which faintly smelled like fresh laundry and his cologne, giving you a nice sense of comfort.

on the nightstand beside you, a steaming cup of tea sat, its aroma wafting through the air. and next to it, was a bunch of medicine and tissue all within easy reach. steph had thought of everything, each detail done with the kind of love that was quiet but undeniable. unfortunately for steph though, you were just as hard headed.

"steph, all i did was literally sneeze. i’m fine, i—" you started, trying to sit up a little despite the weight of the blankets, but steph gently sets you back down, glaring a bit. "nope, don't start. you’re sick." his expression let you know there was no room for argument, but you pressed on anyway.

"i have work." you whine. it's not like you're a workaholic, but you hated not sticking to your routine. missing a day of work meant being behind, having to fix what your coworkers did wrong, and getting overwhelmed with tasks once again. being sick was the last thing you needed right now. but it didn't matter. steph put his hand against your forehead, immediately shaking his head. you were practically burning up. "you have a fever."

"rest up, seriously," steph said, voice softening as he gently smoothed the blankets around you, ensuring you were as comfortable as possible. "i already let your boss know,"

"but— who’s gonna make dinner tonight?"

he gave you a proud smile, ready to take up the challenge and show off his skills for once. steph isn't a master chef or anything— well, he is on the court, but he's picked up a few things since marrying you. "me, duh! i've already got an idea. chicken alfredo."

"...honey, i don’t think that’s a good idea." he already knew what you were talking about just from your raised eyebrow. it was when you were on a business trip, and steph was in charge of making dinner for the kids. long story short, the pasta caught on fire, somehow. "one time! it was one time."

"fine, okay." you sighed, "well, what about the kids? the laundry still isn't done and i still need to go grocery shopping—"

"baby, please," he murmured, kissing your forehead. "let me take care of you, alright? you don’t need to worry about anything but sleep."

you glance back at steph, your gaze meeting his concerned one. in that moment, the worry in his eyes was undeniable. he doesn't have to say anything, really, you know what he wants to say.

i'm here, let me help you.

it now hits you how much you've been taking up on your own. the weight of everything—work, home, responsibilities, has been crushing you. maybe being sick was what you needed to finally take a break. it's weird to let things go, but looking into steph's eyes, knowing that he's not going anywhere, no matter how much you push him away, lets you know that he's willing to take it all up for you.

"you don’t have to be tough all the time, you know," he said quietly. "i've got you."

"i know," you whispered, reaching out to lace your fingers through his. "i don’t want to be a burden."

steph's hand tightened around yours, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles.

"nah. you could never be a burden. what you are is the love of my life."

[ktaerssoi]

hii could you do a jealous kate fic PLEASEEE

jealously is my middle name

summary: blowing off a project for your girlfriend and her jealously.

(678)

kate martin x reader

Being a business major meant being paired up with others often, and by the middle of freshman year, most people had a go-to partner. Your go-to partner was Violet, she was pretty and super funny.

By senior year, you and she had worked on countless projects together. You guys had recently been assigned a project that would be part of your final grade, wanting to finish it early, you guys had planned to meet up the following day to get a basic layout.

there was one problem though, your girlfriend. Kate had been making up excuses for you to stay home all day, whether it was her pretending to be sick, saying that you had all semester, or just saying she would miss you so much that she would "die an agonizing death."

needless to say, she didn't want you to go. "Kate, I need to go, seriously now." you separated yourself from her, knowing that the physical contact would make you fold.

"I don't know where your problem with me hanging out with Violet is coming from, but we need to get this work done." You and Kate were standing by the front door of your guys' shared apartment, she was leaning against the wall, still trying to bargain with you.

"It's not that I had something against her, I just don't understand why you guys have to meet up so often. I mean seriously, it's like every other day." She had pushed herself off the wall, her hands finding your waist as she now stands in front of you.

you squirm at her touch, the simple action causing your cheeks to flush. "because it's our final kate, it's not like it's optional." you looked up at her, she was 6'0, so it got hard to focus sometimes when you guys were standing so close together.

she nodded, a disappointed look on her face, but you quickly saw her eyes change as a thought popped into her head. She stared down at your lips for a second, and then quickly pulled you into a kiss.

you kiss back quickly, melting into it, a pout on your face as she pulls away. "kate, you can't just do that." she gives you a confused look, but you don't miss the smirk on her face.

"do what? I can't give my girlfriend a goodbye kiss as she leaves to go hang out with another girl?" you shake your head, realizing what Kate's big problem is with Violet all of a sudden.

"you're jealous." you smile, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she tries to pull you closer (if it was even possible)

"I- what?" the look on her face makes you laugh, her being unable to defend herself, giving you all the proof you need. "I am not jealous."

She narrows her eyes, the tips of her ears reddening at your accusations. "you see y/n, if I was jealous, then I would be trying to get you to stay home. I'm not doing that. Leave for all I care, te ll Violet I say hi or whatever." she bites the inside of her cheek, her hands falling to her sides and off your waist, trying to act nonchalant.

"mhm, okay then, see you later k." you smile, kissing her goodbye as you go to reach for the door you don't get far and you feel her hands grab your waist once again pulling you toward her. "okay but seriously babe do you really have to start it today? wait until tomorrow at least," the end of her sentence is muffled as she barries her head into your neck, her front pressed up against your back as your hand is still on the doorknob.

"not jealous my ass."

-

you had texted Violet that something had come up, and you were unable to meet her that day, you and kate had spent the rest of the night watching movies. (along with other things)

it wouldn't be the last time you had to blow someone off for kate.

okay chat, i like dont absolutely hate this but it def isnt my fav, so ill prob rewrite it.. i was also thinking of rewriting the other kate fic bc i just don't like how i left it. also how do we feel about me writing for women's hockey?? lord kk harvey is so fine. anyway chat im actually dying sos - kate

[ilium-ilia]

I don’t know man, I figured I would ask you personally about this because I’ve gotten two asks now that were quite rude about it, saying I shouldn’t “copy” fics or steal your prompts. But I made a post saying that I had a horrible dark fic idea inspired by your “hole in the earth” fic. I didn’t go into much detail about it in the post but in the tags all I said was that I was thinking about a sort of aftermath situation of it, if John died and the Reader character went insane, trigger warning for child death in the idea I was having. Basically in no way actually copying your fic, just inspired by your work. The lobotomy, if I were to even actually write it, probably wouldn’t even be mentioned and more focus on Stockholme syndrome and kidnapping. Sorry this is long but I’m just kinda annoyed by the anons I’m getting, does this bother you? Seem too close to your work for comfort? Would you call it “copying”? - @cobwebs-in-autumn

Okay, well I didn't want to make this public, and you blocked me, and I'm tired of people walking all over me when it comes to stealing my work, I'm going to explain the situation here and set boundaries right now. Again. Because I'm so sick and fucking tired of dealing with this.

First off, I would like to say don't harass this person. Don't send anon messages, or hate, or comment on their posts, or anything. I'm only bringing this out because you guys need to learn to respect writers. I've deleted two accounts because of shit like this and I'm NOT letting it get to me a third time.

Anyway, so I get sent this anon message. The fic they're referring to is one that isn't posted on tumblr, but is here on AO3. It's a very dark fic, basically where Price kidnaps a wife, and when she doesn't act the way he wants her to, he has her lobotomized so that she's more "docile." It's a horror fic. This person then decided that they wanted to write a continuation of the fic, therefore stealing my idea without my permission. (no matter how much they want to claim they were only inspired, a continuation without permission is still stealing!!)

Now, many of you had kindly pointed out to this person that the idea was very similar to mine. And they very much admitted in this anon ask that it was an aftermath situation of MY fic. But this seemed to annoy them.

"I’m just kinda annoyed by the anons I’m getting"

(you know what else is annoying? people copying or "finishing" your works without permission!!)

So, I then went to this person in dm's to tell them, yeah no, I'm not cool with this at all.

because frankly, why the fuck would i be cool with that lmao. I was pretty short with my messages, but I was being firm. Like I've done this shit before, I'm not doing it again.

They do not respond to the message, and instead, ignore me and reblog their post with this.

Which is fucking amazing actually. So insanely disrespectful that I couldn't help but laugh because how do you see someone saying "Hey, this makes me uncomfortable and you're stealing my idea" and you go and post that? "I feel this is far enough" But you're not going to talk it out to the writer you claim to respect so much?

Anyway so I point this out in the dms because that's just insanely disrespectful.

And I also commented because I was getting anxious that people were going to start pushing them to write the idea that was pretty much mine lmao.

Eventually they responded with this:

Which is also just fucking insane. Basically gaslighting me saying "oh I'll just write something similar but not" (Not to mention the fact their new idea sounds like early's fic anyway lol) But no apology, just fucking clout chasing using my name and idea, for whatever reason. So I sent them a rather rambling response about how that this still isn't okay, I still never received an apology from them, or anything of the like.

And I'm sure you guys saw some of my posts because I was upset. (the misgendering and the incorrectly correcting my name, and saying how i'm not at all okay with people using my works as inspiration). This has happened to me so so so often (and many other writers!) and I'm sick of it. It's annoying. This person has written so many other works and ideas that were their own and that's what I love about fandom- but this? Yeah.

So I waited for a response from them. Clicked on our messages and oh?

Everything's gone. weird. maybe send another message.

oh!

maybe it's tumblr. logged out. logged back in. no history with them in my dm's period. (mind, I can still message everyone else just fine!)

So yeah. This is bullshit, and I'm sick of it. Private conversations do not help. I'm tired of trying to protect people who are wronging me for the sake of their feelings when they so obviously trample and disregard mine. Especially with these answers to your asks here:

This is so frustrating.

Writing continuations of someone's work is never okay. Writing ideas based off of their work without asking them is never okay. And to block me when I point out my discomfort just because you're (assumingely) upset i didn't take your side? And STILL keeping the post up? (at least at the time I'm posting this) Yeah, sorry, I'm tired of letting this shit slide and keeping this quiet. I tried to reach out in DM's to resolve it quietly and that didn't work.

Respect your writers. This is a community. Ask people. If you like my idea so much, then maybe comment or tell me in my asks instead of ripping me off. I'm literally always so happy to talk about my ideas and "what if's" and I'm sure many other writers are too! We literally scream it from the rooftops!

But no, you'd rather steal my shit for clout instead.

again: do not fucking dogpile on this person. just block and move on. unfortunately this isn't their main account, so they're gonna be able to see my shit no matter what I do, but oh well. maybe at least we can all learn that this is not cool at all.

anons are off for now, and any stupid asks will just be blocked/deleted.

[twodimensionalboyfriend]

Sick </3

wc: ~1.3k read time: ~5 minutes

༉‧₊˚.¸♡ master list✧ '*•༉

cw: fluff! smooches here and there i guess! gn throughout! also not proofread lol

I have fucking covid!! my bones are on fire!!!

on a serious note, i have never been sick like this before in my life, i had the worst skin and joint aches i'd ever had in my life and my head felt like it was going to explode with pressure and my ears are still fuckin clogged. so anyways im gonna project my problems into this fic in the order in which i experienced them as a form of therapy and if anybody else is out there sick rn, i hope you have a jason todd to make it bearable!

On a silly note, I met a stray cat in the neighborhood the other day but she's been spayed! im hoping this is the cat distribution system at play

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you groaned.

You're sitting on the couch trying to convince your boyfriend that you're not sick. It's just allergies! Allergies that come with body aches, pressure in your head, and now a fever.

Jason showed you the thermometer, "Dude, you're running at 100.1..."

You looked at the thermometer incredulously, "Isn't that thing super old? I mean how do we even know it still works? Take it again."

Jason sighed and scanned your forehead again, "Babe, we bought this a couple months ago." He glared at you as he showed you the thermometer again, which now read 100.2.

"Tch, that's barely even a fever," you said rolling your eyes.

"That's it. You're going on bed rest."

"Woah, what?? Jason, I told you I'm fine! Besides I have so much to do today. We need groceries, I have a prescription to pick up, there are so many dishes in the sink, I have laundry to fold and I have work this evening. A little cold isn't... what are you doing?" You cut yourself off as you saw Jason typing on his phone.

"Thanks for the to-do list! While you rest, I'll go and get this done. Grocery list is on the fridge and our pharmacy is in the store, so text me if you need anything else. I am more than capable of doing dishes and laundry, so you don't have to worry about that. And I love you, but you're crazy if you think you're going into work tonight. Text your boss a picture of the thermometer and call out. Or I'll do it for you, whatever you prefer."

"Ar-Are you sure? I mean it's..." You trailed off. You really did feel like shit and it's not like you necessarily wanted to do these errands and chores. After a moment of thinking, you sighed and relented, "Okay, fine, only if you're completely sure you can handle it."

"(Y/N), I'm an adult. If I couldn't do laundry, you should be worried about me." You tried to laugh a little, but it quickly snowballed into a coughing fit, "Woah woah, take it easy. I'm gonna take the list and go to the store. Again, text me if you need anything or if you just wanna say hi," he said with a smile.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you whispered, "Thank you, Jason. I love you very much."

"I love you too, I'll be back soon."

--------

The front door swung open and Jason's voice rang through your shared apartment, "Honey, I'm home!"

You couldn't have gotten up if you tried. You're sickly moan from the couch alarmed Jason, and he dropped the groceries and ran to your side.

You were lying on the couch in your spiderman sweats and a hoodie; your arms draped over your eyes to block out the white lights from the kitchen that added to your headache. Your entire body ached like it never has before. The sight squeezed Jason's heart. "Oh, honey," he said sympathetically, pressing his hands to your cheeks, "Woah, you are burning up! Hang on." He snatched the thermometer from the coffee table and tested his partner. The screen lit up red. It read 101.7.

You mumbled, "H-Holy shit..." It was a bit too much to talk right now.

"Okay babe, I got you some chicken noodle soup because that's what Alfred always made us, and I don't quite have his cooking skills--and this is, uh from a uh... a can--but I'm gonna make some for you, and that should hopefully make you feel better," he looked at you with worry. "Then would you want to watch Pride & Prejudice while I folded the laundry? The movie obviously, since you like it. Even though the show is better," he grumbled at the end.

God damn it. You were crying again.

You were experiencing so many different emotions you didn't really know what else to do. You loved Jason so much and felt so much gratitude for the way he was taking care of you. As if there was nothing else he could possibly be doing right now other than be here. This is on top of the fact that you've been in agony for the past hour as you got worse and worse; and you were really tired of feeling that way.

This shocked and scared Jason, "I'm sorry!! The movie isn't that bad! I just like that the show's more accurate to the book! Also, when Lizzie runs through the rain, why does she grab a soaking wet cloth from the very same rain storm to dry her hair?! I'm sorry I just--"

"I love you so much," you croaked out. "I also feel like fucking garbage."

This put Jason at ease and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm sorry you feel like shit, sweetheart. I do this because I love you too. Like, a lot. Now stop talking and spare your voice. Let's get you cozy and hopped up on vitamin C, and we'll just take it easy."

-----------------

The next morning, you woke up. You sat up slowly and realized most of the pressure in your head is gone. Your body no longer felt like it was on fire! Definitely still congested though. You also realized you fell asleep on the couch after the first proposal, yet you were currently sitting in your bed. Jason must've brought you in. Suddenly, a sneeze crept up and exploded out of you. Then another. Then one more. Jesus, that hurt your chest.

Your fit was loud enough to let Jason know you had woken up. He came into the room holding a spatula. The opened door let in a sweet smell and a sizzling sound. "How are you feeling, baby?" He walked towards you.

"Well I can bear to be conscious, so I'd say much better. What's going on in the kitchen?"

He pressed his hand to your forehead and said, "Pancakes! And lots of orange juice. I don't think you’re in the clear yet. Sit tight; I'm gonna get the thermometer and take your temperature."

Ignoring his request, you got up to meet him in the living room. You stepped out of the bedroom and was met with the sight of Jason discarding the pancake that had burned due to his doting. He saw you walking towards him and urged you to go back to bed, "Go back! I'm gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Pancakes, juice, fruit, the whole shebang."

"No it's okay, let me be out here with you. I'd kiss you good morning, but I fear I might poison you and get you sick."

Jason stole a quick kiss, much to your surprise, "I spent all night with you. If I were to get it, I don't think a kiss would be what seals my fate. You're plate is ready, by the way."

He handed you a plate stacked with 3 pancakes and a butter slice, drizzled in maple syrup with strawberries and whipped cream. It was beautiful, "Oh my god, Jason, that's so gorgeous I don't think I can eat it." Your stomach growled and promptly gave away your true feelings.

"Tear it up, baby girl."

You sat down as Jason finished making his stack. He sat down with you and you both began eating. Pre-packaged pancake mix has never tasted so good.

"Thank you for nursing me back to health, Jason. You've made this past few days in unbearable hell feel more like a manageable limbo."

He laughed, "What else was I supposed to do? Let the love of my life suffer?"

"God I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life."

"Well, fortunately, you'll never have to." He leaned over the table and pressed a syrupy kiss to your lips.

if there are an content warnings you think i missed, please tell me so!! i’ll add them to this post and remember to add them to future ones!! :) ♡ ♡

and pls pls like and reblog and reply!! literally if you interact i will kiss you on the mouth