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aceyalonso · 8 months ago

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how bad do you need it? - CHARLES LECLERC

pairing : charles leclerc x fiancée!reader kinktober day 15 - begging

summary : a bad day at work and a good fiancé would and will always end well

warnings/notes : a bit of plot, swearing, smut, begging, dry humping, y/n cums in her shorts 😭, breeding kink, sir kink, praise kink, degrading kink, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and children, fingering, overstimulation, use of "mommy" and "good girl", slight cum play

word count : 4.4k

a/n : hahahahha i NEED HIM

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Y/n trudges through the front door, her shoulders slumped and her face etched with exhaustion. Another grueling day at the office, dealing with difficult clients and mounting paperwork, had taken its toll. She kicks off her heels and drops her purse on the floor, too tired to even hang up her coat.

Charles emerges from the kitchen, his brow furrowed with concern as he takes in Y/n's disheveled appearance. "Hi, mon amour, rough day?" he asks gently, stepping closer to wrap his arms around her.

Y/n leans into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. "You could say that," she sighs, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I just want to forget about it and relax."

Charles nods understandingly. "Why don't you go lie down and I'll bring you some tea? We can talk about it later if you want."

Y/n shakes her head, her hair falling across her face. "No, I just want to sleep. Can you order us some food for dinner? Something comforting, like pizza or Chinese?"

Charles nods, pressing a tender kiss to the top of Y/n's head. "Of course, mon amour. I'll take care of everything. You just focus on resting."

He guides her towards their bedroom, helping her out of her work clothes and tucking her into bed. Y/n sighs contentedly as she sinks into the soft mattress, the stress of the day already beginning to melt away.

After ensuring she's comfortable, Charles quietly leaves the room to place their food order. He selects Y/n's favorite pizza, knowing the familiar flavors will bring her comfort. As he waits for the delivery, he tidies up the living room and prepares a mug of chamomile tea, hoping the soothing aroma will help Y/n relax.

Y/n stirs as Charles gently shakes her shoulder, his deep voice cutting through the haze of sleep. "Mon amour, the food is here. I also made you some tea if you'd like."

She blinks groggily, her hair tousled from sleep. "Mmm, okay," she mumbles, sitting up slowly. Her legs feel heavy as she swings them over the side of the bed, and she reaches for Charles' hand for support.

He helps her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her. "Take your time, ma chérie. No need to rush."

Together, they make their way out of the bedroom and into the living room. The savory scent of pizza fills the air, making Y/n's stomach growl. She smiles gratefully at Charles as he guides her to the couch, helping her sit down before retrieving her mug of tea.

"Thank you," she says softly, taking a sip of the warm, fragrant liquid. The chamomile soothes her throat and helps clear the last remnants of sleep from her mind.

Y/n takes a bite of her pizza, savoring the rich flavors as she gathers her thoughts. Charles watches her patiently, his blue eyes filled with understanding.

"So, tell me about your day, mon amour," he prompts gently. "What happened at work?"

Y/n sighs, setting down her slice. "It's just been incredibly busy lately. We're swamped with projects and deadlines, and as the team leader, it feels like everything falls on my shoulders."

She runs a hand through her hair, frustration evident in the tense set of her shoulders. "Don't get me wrong, I'm proud to be a female leader in a male-dominated field. But sometimes I just want to be... I don't know, normal? Without the added pressure and expectations."

Y/n continues, her voice tinged with weariness. "I mean, I love my job and I'm grateful for the opportunities I've been given. But some days, like today, it just feels like too much. I'm constantly juggling tasks, putting out fires, and trying to keep everyone motivated."

She takes another sip of tea, the warmth spreading through her chest. "And then there's the added pressure of being a woman in a leadership role. I feel like I have to prove myself twice as hard, work twice as long, just to be taken seriously."

Charles reaches over and takes her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I understand, ma chérie. It's not easy being in your position. But remember, you're not alone. You have me, and I'm here to support you in whatever way I can."

Y/n looks at him gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I know. And that means more to me than you realize. Having you here, ready to listen and help, makes all the difference."

Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, a mix of vulnerability and affection in her eyes. "You always make me feel cherished, Charles. Even when we're... intimate, I never feel objectified or used. You treat me like a partner, not just a plaything."

She leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "And when you take control, when you're rough with me... it's like I can let go of all the pressure and expectations. I can just be me, not the team leader or the successful career woman. It's liberating."

Charles brings Y/n's hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. His blue eyes sparkle with adoration as he gazes at her. "You are my first priority, baby. Always. In every aspect of our life together."

He sets aside his own plate of pizza, turning to face her fully. "Your happiness, your well-being, your pleasure... those are what matter most to me. Whether we're in the bedroom or out in the world, I want you to know that you come first."

Y/n's heart swells with love and gratitude as she looks at Charles, his words echoing in her mind. "I don't know what I'd do without you," she admits softly, her voice thick with emotion. "You're my rock, my safe haven. I can always count on you to be there for me, no matter what."

She reaches up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw. "I love you, Charles. More than anything in this world. And I promise, no matter how stressful work gets, I'll always come home to you. You're my priority too."

Charles leans into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savors the feeling of her skin against his. When he opens them again, they're filled with a fierce protectiveness. "I love you too, mon amour. More than life itself. And I'll always be here to support you, to lift you up, and to remind you of how incredible you are."

—

As the movie plays on in the background, Y/n shifts restlessly on top of Charles, trying to find a comfortable position. She squirms and wriggles, her movements causing friction between her body and his. Unbeknownst to Charles, Y/n's subtle motions are deliberate, her pussy rubbing against the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

She bites her lip to stifle a moan, the sensation of his hardness pressing against her core sending tingles of pleasure through her body. Charles, oblivious to her intentions, wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Is everything alright, mon amour?" he asks, noticing her fidgeting. "Do you need to get up?"

Y/n shakes her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. "No, I'm fine. Just trying to get comfortable." She continues to grind against him, her movements becoming more purposeful.

Charles' brow furrows slightly as he feels Y/n's movements become more deliberate. A spark of realization dawns in his eyes as he glances down, noticing the way she's subtly humping against him. A slow, knowing smirk spreads across his face.

"Is that so?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Because it seems to me like you're trying to start something, ma chérie."

Y/n blushes, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. She tries to play innocent, batting her lashes at him. "I don't know what you're talking about," she giggles, continuing her movements.

Charles chuckles, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. He guides her movements, helping her grind against him more firmly. "Oh, I think you do," he teases, his own arousal growing with each pass of her heat against his clothed cock.

Y/n gasps softly, her head falling back as she loses herself in the sensation. "Charles..." she breathes, her voice heavy with desire.

Charles pulls Y/n down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. His warm breath sends shivers down her spine as he whispers in her ear, "What do you want, baby? What do you want to do? Tell me."

Y/n's response is cut off by a sharp gasp as her clit rubs firmly against Charles' hardness. The intense sensation makes her toes curl and her thighs tremble. "I... I want..." she stammers, her mind clouding with lust.

Charles grins, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips as he guides her movements. "Yes, ma chérie? What do you want?" he prompts, his voice a low rumble in her ear.

Y/n's head lolls back, her hair cascading down her shoulders as she grinds against him with increasing desperation. "I want you," she finally manages to say, her voice thick with need. "I want you inside me, Charles. Please..."

Charles' smile turns wicked as he recalls Y/n's earlier words about finding liberation in his dominance. "No, mon amour," he purrs, his fingers tightening on her hips. "Work for it. Show me how bad you want me inside you."

Y/n's eyes widen, a mix of surprise and arousal flickering across her face. She nods eagerly, her movements becoming more frenzied as she grinds against him. "Yes, Charles," she breathes, her voice submissive and needy. "Please, let me show you..."

She redoubles her efforts, her hips undulating in a sensual dance as she seeks to drive them both wild with desire. Her pussy throbs with need, aching to be filled by his hard cock. Y/n whimpers and moans, lost in the haze of lust, desperate to prove her desire for him.

She continues to grind against Charles, her movements becoming more urgent and needy. The heat radiating from her core is unmistakable, and soon a damp spot begins to form on the front of his sweatpants. Lost in the throes of passion, neither of them notice the growing wetness.

Charles' head lolls back, his eyes closed in bliss as he feels the scorching heat of Y/n's pussy pressed against his clothed erection. "Fuck, mon amour," he groans, his hips bucking up to meet her downward thrusts. "You're so fucking wet for me. I can feel it soaking through my pants."

Y/n whimpers and mewls, her voice rising in pitch as she chases her impending orgasm. The friction of her clit rubbing against his hardness is almost too much to bear. "Please, Charles," she begs, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you. I need your cock inside me. Please..."

Y/n's movements grow more frantic as she nears the edge, her hips gyrating wildly against Charles' clothed erection. She's so close, teetering on the brink of a powerful orgasm. But just as she's about to tip over, Charles' hands tighten on her hips, slowing her down.

"Did I tell you to speed up?" he asks, his voice stern despite the lust clouding his eyes. "No, I didn't. You're not in control here, Y/n. I am."

Y/n whines in frustration, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her climax. "Please, Charles," she begs, her voice high and needy. "I'm so close. I need to cum. Please let me cum."

Charles shakes his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet, mon amour. You haven't earned it. You need to work harder for your prize."

Y/n's eyes fill with tears as she pleads with Charles, her voice cracking with desperation. "Please, sir," she whimpers, her hips still grinding against him despite his commands. "I'll be good, I promise. I'll do anything you want. Just please, let me cum. I need it so badly."

Charles' expression softens slightly as he sees the tears streaming down her face. He reaches up to wipe them away with his thumb, his touch gentle despite his firm demeanor. "Shh, ma chérie," he soothes. "You have no reason to cry. If you've done your job correctly, you'll get your reward. Crying isn't going to do anything for you right now."

Y/n nods, sniffing back her tears. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what's to come. "I'm sorry, sir," she says, her voice meek and submissive. "I'll try harder. I'll do whatever it takes to please you."

He smiles approvingly at Y/n's obedience. "Good girl," he praises, his voice low and husky. "Now show me again how bad you want my cock to fill you up, okay?"

Y/n nods eagerly, her eyes shining with determination. She takes a deep breath, centering herself, before beginning to grind against Charles once more. Her movements are slow and sensual at first, her hips rolling in a deliberate rhythm.

As she gains momentum, her pace quickens, her pussy rubbing insistently against the bulge in Charles' sweatpants. Soft moans and whimpers spill from her lips as she loses herself in the sensation, her body undulating with need.

"Please, Charles," she gasps, her voice ragged with desire. "I need you inside me. I need to feel you stretching me, filling me. Please, sir, give me what I crave."

Charles cups Y/n's cheek, his thumb gently caressing her skin as he wipes away the stray tears. His blue eyes are filled with a mix of tenderness and lust as he gazes at her. "You look so adorable like this, begging for me," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "So desperate and needy, all for me. It's beautiful, mon amour."

Y/n leans into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she savors the feeling of his hand on her face. "I am desperate for you, Charles," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Only you can satisfy me, can give me what I need."

She opens her eyes, locking her gaze with his, the intensity of her desire burning bright in their depths. "Please, sir," she implores, her hips still grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm. "I'll do anything, be anything you want. Just please, let me have you. Let me feel you inside me."

Charles groans, his resolve crumbling under the weight of Y/n's desperate pleas and the feel of her hot, wet pussy grinding against him. "Fuck, mon amour," he growls, his hand sliding down to grip her hip tightly. "Cum for me, baby. You deserve it. Let go and give yourself to me."

Y/n's eyes widen, a gasp escaping her lips as Charles gives her permission. She nods frantically, her hips moving faster, more urgently, seeking the release she so desperately craves. "Yes, Charles!" she cries, her voice high and needy. "I'm cumming! Fuck- I'm cumming!"

Her body tenses, her muscles coiling tight as her orgasm approaches. With a final, hard grind against Charles' clothed cock, she comes undone, her pussy clenching and fluttering as waves of pleasure crash over her. "Oh god, oh fuck, Charles!" she moans, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

Y/n's body shudders and trembles as her orgasm washes over her, her pussy clenching and releasing in rhythmic pulses. She whimpers and moans against Charles' chest, her hips continuing to grind against him, riding out the waves of pleasure.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she chants, her voice muffled against his skin. "It feels so good, Charles. So fucking good."

Charles strokes the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her black hair as he holds her close. "That's it, mon amour," he encourages, his voice low and soothing. "Keep going. You're doing so well. I know it feels amazing. Come on, you can do it. Let it all out."

Y/n whimpers and moans, her body still shaking with the aftershocks of her climax. She continues to grind against Charles, her movements becoming slower, more languid as she comes down from her high.

Y/n collapses against Charles, her body spent and sated in the aftermath of her intense orgasm. She pants heavily, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she tries to catch her breath. "Fuck, Charles," she whispers, her voice hoarse and raw. "That was so good. So fucking good."

Charles chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath her as he holds her close. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, ma chérie," he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "You did so well, taking your pleasure like that. I'm proud of you."

Charles looks down at Y/n, concern etched on his features as he takes in her exhausted state. "Are you sure you still want me inside you, mon amour?" he asks gently, his hand stroking her back soothingly. "You seem so tired. We can wait if you need to rest."

But Y/n shakes her head vehemently, her eyes wide and pleading as she gazes up at him. "Yes, yes, yes please," she begs, her voice desperate. "I can do it, Charles. I can take it. I need you inside me. Please, I'm begging you."

Charles' resolve wavers, his cock twitching in his pants at the sight of her desperation. He knows he shouldn't, knows she needs rest, but the hunger in her eyes is too much to resist. "Alright, ma chérie," he growls, his hands gripping her hips firmly. "If you're sure you can handle it..."

Charles flips Y/n over onto her stomach, her ass high in the air as she presents herself to him. The wet spot on her shorts from her previous orgasm is clearly visible, evidence of her arousal.

"Fuck," Charles growls, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in the sight of her. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me. Your pussy is practically dripping."

He runs his hand over the damp fabric, feeling the heat radiating from her core. Y/n whimpers and arches her back, pushing her ass higher, silently begging for more.

Charles slides his hand beneath Y/n's shorts, his fingers seeking out her slick, swollen folds. "Mmm, so wet," he murmurs, teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers. "You want me to fill you up, don't you, ma chérie? Want me to cum inside this tight little pussy?"

She bucks against his hand, her hips rolling back as she seeks more contact. "Yes, Charles, please," she begs, her voice high and needy. "I want you to breed me. I want to feel you cumming deep inside me."

Charles groans, his cock throbbing at her filthy words. "Fuck, mon amour," he growls, his fingers delving deeper, stroking along her inner walls. "You want my dick stretching you out, don't you? Want me to claim this sweet cunt as mine?"

Charles' fingers pump in and out of Y/n's dripping pussy, her velvety walls clenching around him as he strokes her most sensitive spots. "Fuck, mon amour," he groans, his thumb circling her swollen clit. "Your cunt is clenching so hard around my fingers. You're so fucking needy for my cock."

Y/n moans shamelessly, her hips rocking back to meet his thrusts. "Yes, sir," she pants, her voice ragged with desire. "I need to be bred. I need you to fill me up, make me yours."

Charles' eyes darken with lust at her words, his imagination running wild with visions of Y/n's belly swollen with his child. "You'd look so beautiful pregnant with my baby," he growls, his fingers curling inside her. "I bet you'd make such a good mommy. Fuck, I can't wait to see you with my child."

The thought of Y/n pregnant with his child sends Charles into a frenzy of lust. He needs to make it a reality, to claim her womb and fill it with his seed. With a growl, he withdraws his fingers from her dripping cunt, leaving her empty and aching.

Quickly, he shoves his sweatpants down, freeing his throbbing cock. It springs forth, hard and heavy, the tip glistening with pre-cum. Y/n whimpers at the sight, her pussy clenching around nothing.

Charles makes quick work of her shorts, yanking them down her thighs and exposing her glistening folds to his hungry gaze. "Fuck, look at this pretty little cunt," he groans, giving her ass a sharp smack. "So wet and ready for me."

He teases her entrance with the head of his cock, rubbing it up and down her slit, coating himself in her slick arousal. Y/n bucks back, desperate for more, but Charles denies her, keeping his movements light and teasing.

Charles grips Y/n's hips tightly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he lines himself up with her entrance. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into her welcoming heat, inch by inch, until he's buried to the hilt.

Y/n cries out, her back arching as she's stretched and filled by his thick cock. Even though they've been together countless times, her body never fails to adjust to his impressive size. "Fuck, Charles," she gasps, her nails scrabbling against the couch. "You're so big."

He groans, his hips settling flush against her ass as he gives her a moment to adjust. "That's it, ma chérie," he murmurs, his hand stroking soothing circles on her lower back. "Take all of me. Fuck, you feel so good.”

Charles begins to move, his hips rocking in a slow, steady rhythm as he pulls out and thrusts back in. Each stroke is deliberate, designed to make Y/n feel every inch of his cock as it slides along her sensitive walls.

"Mmm, that's it," he groans, his hand coming down to grip her hip, steadying her as he picks up the pace. "Feel that, mon amour? Feel how deep I am inside you? How I'm stretching this tight little pussy?"

Y/n whimpers and moans, her body undulating beneath him as he claims her. "Yes, Charles, yes," she chants, her voice rising in pitch as he hits that spot inside her that makes her see stars. "Harder, please. I need more."

Charles obliges, his thrusts growing stronger, more forceful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by their moans and cries of pleasure.

Y/n's body begins to shake, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through her. Tears stream down her face as Charles pounds into her, each thrust hitting her deepest, most sensitive spots.

"What's wrong, ma chérie?" Charles asks, his voice a low growl. "Can't take my dick? How am I supposed to make you a mommy when you can't even handle a few thrusts?"

Y/n sobs, her pussy clenching around him as if trying to hold him inside. "I can take it," she gasps, her voice strained. "I can take it, Charles. Please, don't stop. I need it. I need you to fill me up, to breed me."

Charles groans, his hips snapping forward harder, faster. "That's it, mon amour," he grunts, his fingers digging into her hips. "Take it like a good girl, okay?”

Y/n nods frantically, her face pressed against the couch cushions as Charles pounds into her from behind. "Yes, yes, please," she gasps, her words muffled by the fabric. "Harder, Charles, fuck me harder!"

Charles obliges, his hips slamming against her ass with bruising force. The couch creaks and shakes beneath them, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room. "That's it, mon amour," he growls, his hand fisting in her hair, holding her head down. "Take it like a good girl. You're doing so fucking well."

Y/n whimpers and moans, her pussy clenching around Charles' pistoning cock. She can feel her orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in her core. "I'm close," she pants, her voice ragged. "I'm gonna cum, Charles. Please, please, please..."

His grip on Y/n's hair tightens as he feels her pussy fluttering around him, signaling her impending orgasm. "You gonna cum for me, ma chérie?" he growls, his hips never faltering in their relentless pace. "Do it. You deserve it. Cum on my cock like a good little slut."

Y/n screams as her orgasm crashes over her, her body convulsing beneath Charles. Her pussy clamps down on him like a vice, rippling and pulsing as she rides out the waves of pleasure. "Charles!" she cries, her voice raw and broken. "Fuck, Charles, I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

He groans, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release. "Fuck, baby," he grunts, his balls drawing up tight. "Gonna fill this pussy up. Gonna breed you, make you mine."

He buries himself deep inside Y/n as he reaches his peak, his cock pulsing as he fills her with his hot, thick cum. He groans long and low, his hips jerking with each spurt of his release.

Y/n whimpers, her pussy milking him for every last drop as she feels him flooding her womb. When he finally pulls out, a trickle of his seed leaks from her well-fucked hole, dripping down her thighs.

"Fuck, look at that," Charles growls, his fingers scooping up the cum and pushing it back inside her. "Such a messy little slut. You're not going to let any of my cum out, understand? You're going to keep it all inside this greedy cunt."

He leans down, pressing soft kisses to the globes of her ass as he continues to finger her, stirring his seed deep inside her. "Good girl," he murmurs, his breath hot against her skin. "Such a good girl, taking my cum so well.”

Y/n comes down from her high, her body goes limp beneath Charles, her breathing slowing as she catches her breath. Charles continues to stroke her hair soothingly, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulders and back.

"Shh, it's okay, mon amour," he murmurs, his voice soft and soothing. "You did so well. I'm so proud of you."

He carefully maneuvers them so that they're lying on their sides, spooning on the couch. He wraps his arms around her, holding her close, one hand resting possessively on her lower belly.

"Rest now," he whispers, nuzzling her neck. "Let me take care of you."

Y/n sighs contentedly, snuggling back against him. "Mmm, Charles," she murmurs, her voice sleepy and sated. "That was... incredible. I love you so much."

Charles smiles, pressing a tender kiss to her temple. "I love you too, ma chérie," he replies softly. "More than anything."

He strokes Y/n's hair gently, his fingers combing through the silky strands. "Feeling better now, mon amour?" he asks softly, his voice warm with concern. "After what happened at work today?"

Y/n sighs, her body melting further into Charles' embrace. "I don't even remember what happened at work," she admits, her voice small and distant.

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rauspberries · 15 days ago

Text

HIGH EXPECTATIONS!

summary: you get yourself hurt in the field. aaron covers up his worry with frustration. pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. tags: afab reader, pre-established built-up tension, mentions of violence & murder, r gets the shit kicked out of them, aaron doesn't know how to use his words like a big boy, r hates that he can't just give her some emotion, mentions of r having daddy issues [self-insert] word count: 3.1k notes: this oneshot went through eighty different prompts & eighty different rewrites before i got even slightly happy enough to post it. based off of a request for #15 of the excuse prompts. enjoy!

This case had been killer, pun unintended. At first, it had just been a consult. A police station in Omaha, Nebraska asking for assistance in locating a serial killer that had been murdering young, brunette women after he had left a few notes for them at crime scenes. Then, you had to fly out in the early morning on Monday once he had struck again, to get a feel for the crime scene and to get a better grip on victimology.

By the time you had located the unsub, two more dead bodies and six nights of little to no sleep later, you had been absolutely exhausted. A self-diagnosed chronic overachiever, your last week had consisted of nights filled with bad coffee, staring at photos of dead bodies and scribbling unintelligible notes on more sticky notes than was good for the environment. All you prayed for was to catch the bad guy, wrap up the case and take a nice long nap on the two-and-a-half hour long plane ride back home.

The worst part about it was that your exhaustion was noticeable. As you had been putting on your vest, Hotch had walked up to you, fingertips brushing against your elbow to catch your attention. One glance at his face told you everything you needed to know. The wrinkles forming between his eyebrows, the barely noticeable squint of his eyes, the white line on his lips from pressing them together - he was worried.

He’d tried to convince you not to go. That paperwork needed to be done, that he and the rest of the team could handle it, that he needed someone to stay there. In the end, you had won the tense stand-off, steely brow and all. Admittedly, he’d always been too soft on you, too quick to back down when you argued back. Never able to actually say no.

Looking back on it all, he probably should’ve tried harder.

You remembered the night in flashes. Foot getting caught on something hidden in the untamed grass as you separated from the team, sending you sprawling on the dew-soaked ground, mud seeping into your clothes. The clacking sound of a boot kicking away your weapon. The burst of pain in your torso as the unsub sent multiple steel-toed kicks into your ribs and face, followed by a cry - your own, although it sounded like it came from a mile away. A thud you later recognized as the unsub getting tackled to the ground and the clicking of handcuffs.

Hotch had slid into the grass next to you moments after. He would’ve gotten to you faster if it wasn’t for the distance or the ache in his back he hadn’t been able to shake since he was thirty. His fingertips had brushed against the blooming bruise on your cheekbone, nerves sparking with a reminder that you were still alive.

Now, a few days of monitoring later, you sit on the edge of your bed in a hospital room. Luckily for you, the unsub hadn’t been able to do too much damage to you in the bit of time he had been kicking you around. An ugly bruise on your cheek, bruised ribs, a grade 2 concussion and a small pneumothroax when you had first arrived at the hospital.

Could’ve been worse. You could be dead, if he had been smart enough to go for your gun instead. Fool.

You’re standing up to tie the strings on your sweatpants [and struggling to do so] when there’s a knock at the door. Glancing over your shoulder, you’re met with the sight of Hotch, dressed in a maroon polo and jeans. It’s almost startling, seeing him in something other than a tailored suit, but it's not unwelcome. The shirt stretches at the broadness of his chest and shoulders, hugging the toned muscle of his biceps and chest. The way he looks is sinful, especially compared to your raggedty t-shirt and old sweatpants.

He’s your boss, he’s your boss, he’s your boss…

“Are you decent?” He rumbles, shutting the door slowly behind him. Despite the question, his eyes brush over you quickly, lingering on the bruise on your cheek with a guarded look. He loved making it impossible for you to read him, even with the whole being-a-profiler thing and all.

With a soft scoff of amusement, you quirk a brow at him. “Don’t think it matters, since you’re already looking at me.” It’s a gentle tease, an attempt to break the tension that has settled over the room, although you note the slight grimace that takes over his face and the way his eyes immediately divert from your face, like he was caught red-handed. What he doesn’t know is that you’d do anything to keep his focus on you, even if it meant getting pummelled in the face and ribs again.

It was no secret that there was something going on between you and Hotch. Unspoken, not acted upon, inappropriate, but there. It wasn’t named, or mentioned, just known. Like really flirting with a friend you’d never date, or a gift left on a kitchen counter and never spoken about. It’d become its own entity, hovering around you and growing more irritating by the milisecond, covered by stale jokes from you and a feigned indifference from him.

It lingers in the furrow of his brow whenever the cops at the local precincts looked at you too long, at the hand brushing your back when you stepped into or out of the SUVs, at the quiet murmuring of a nickname when he had joined you in the back of the ambulance. And now it hovers in this hospital room like a thick fog, watching you with a tough facade that covers up the relief of seeing you up and alive, of being at a hospital with you in Nebraska when he should be spending it at home with his son in Virginia.

Clearing your throat, you pull your focus away from that damned maroon polo, grabbing the newly-purchased stuff you had scattered across all of the tables and chairs in your room to shove them into the bag Emily had brought for you as soon as you had been told you needed to be kept for observation. “Can I help you, sir?”

With your back to him, you don’t notice the way he tenses at the formality, the raise of his shoulders and his fingers curling. Immediately after saying it, you had regretted letting it leave your mouth, wanting to crawl into your skin. It’s like you were begging him to bend you over the hospital bed. Pitiful.

His voice is tense as he speaks. “I’m here to drive you home.” A gentleman through and through, you shouldn’t be surprised, especially with the way he keeps letting his eyes roam over you, testing for any sight of pain or discomfort.

It seemed to be a habit of his, checking on your comfort levels. You haven’t been able to forget the time he’d grabbed you by the shoulder turning a case briefing, turning you around just long enough to silently rip off the tag of your shirt after noticing that it had been irritating the back of your neck all meeting. Stupid profiling. A dumb skill to have, even if it kept you employed.

His words grasp your full attention, face contorting in confusion as you whip around to look at him. “Why? I could’ve gotten someone else to drive me. I’m sure you have things to do. You know, clean the house, organize your button-ups by color. Black, white, slightly off-white.”

Unlucky for your inability to not crack a joke when things got serious, Hotch’s face is back to its guarded look, arms crossed over your chest like he was just praying for you to stare at his arms. “I don’t see anyone else here, do you?” The question is pointed with a raise of his brow, carrying a smugness that he won’t let seep through the armor he’s built around himself.

“Attitude,” you hiss back, like a mother scolding their child for rolling their eyes. “I said I could've, not that I did. I was hoping to book it down the street before anyone even noticed I was gone.” A lie. You hadn’t even thought about how you were going to get home, too distracted by the fact that you were finally allowed to leave this god-forsaken place. You missed your apartment, where you could throw things on the floor and no one would come in, wrinkle their nose and pick it up for you.

Making a mess was your love language. They were silencing you here.

It’s incredibly annoying, the way Hotch continues to stand like a statue, face still in the same bored look he had painted on moments before. It’s times like these where you wonder if the unspoken connection was all in your head, a delusion that you had created due to the absence of both a romantic partner and/or a father figure in your life. Definitely plausible.

He lets out a sigh that’s bordering on sounding irritated as he lets his arms drop to his sides, gesturing to the bag you had just finished zipping up. “Hand me your bag.”

“No.” Your response is immediate, lifting it over your shoulder and immediately suffering the consequences of your actions by the pain that shoots throughout your ribs. “Fuck me,” you hiss in both shock and agony.

Again, he doesn’t respond with any sort of emotion, making you wonder if you should put a heart monitor on and hold your breath just to see something. Instead, he takes a few steps forward, the bergamot cologne on his wrist wafting through your nose as he uses one hand to pull the bag off of your arm, the other one lowering it slowly. “Don’t be stubborn,” he scolds, although it doesn’t sound much different than the bored, low tone he often sported.

Rolling your eyes, you hold your hand over your rib like you’d been punched again. “Be nice. I’m hurt.”

“You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you wouldn’t have been stubborn and had listened to me about staying at the station.” His response is immediate, as if he had been holding onto the words until you had given him a reason to use them. For a singular good-humored moment, you contemplate if Hotch was the type of guy to have an argument with someone in his head. As a former lawyer, that had to be the case, right?

The smile that has slowly started to seep into your lips at the thought immediately dissipates when he speaks your name, head raising and lips parting. ��Huh?”

There it is, the tilt of his head downward, forming what he thinks is a scowl. “I said, can we please go?”

Another roll of your eyes. “Well, since you asked so politely,” you sarcastically respond. Slipping on the cheap slippers that Emily had bought for you at the local Walmart, you follow behind Hotch like a lost puppy, gaze taking in everything around you like you hadn’t been outside in years.

As he leads you out of the entrance and into the parking lot, the thick silence stretching around you starts to make you nervous. You’ve been hurt in the field before – it usually came with the job – but he had never been quiet after the fact. It was also something.

So and so weeks until you come back.

Are you feeling okay?

Is there anything we can do for you? But there was nothing coming from him. You’re forced to stare at his back as he walks two steps ahead of you, arms swinging beside him as he scans the parking lot like someone was going to jump out and finish the job on you. Tense shoulders, gritted jaw. He was giving you the silent treatment, like a petulant child.

The thought eats at you until you finally get to the SUV, his hand grabbing the door handle on the passenger side to open it for you. Even in his obvious brooding, he is ever the gentleman, not allowing you to make any move by yourself. Chivalry is ingrained into his being, and it just pisses you off more.

You pounce as soon as he settles in the driver seat. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Hotch’s brow raises so high you swear it dips into his hairline. “I’m sorry?”

With a wince and a soft grunt, you turn yourself to face him, stubbornly crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re ignoring me. I got the shit kicked out of me and you haven’t asked me if I’m okay once, yet you look at me like I’m going to fall apart. What is happening? Why are you mad at me?”

There it was, the slight widening of his eyes, the soft tell of him trying to pretend nothing was wrong. It was the same thing that happened every time someone asked him if he was okay. A widen of his dark eyes to smoothen out the permanent crease on his forehead, the loosening of his lips that took out the tension in his jaw. “I’m not mad at you.” Liar.

Displeasure pools deep in your gut, heart thudding against your ribcage in the anxiety that takes over you. Suddenly you’re a child again, begging for your friends to stop lifting their chin up at you and just tell you what you had done wrong. “Hotch, please talk to me.” It comes out as a plea, making your agitation bubble up into your throat, burning. Why did you have to beg for an answer when he was the one ignoring you? He’s quiet as he turns the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life and the silence filled with the soft thrum. You don’t back down, staring at him intently as he places a hand on the back of your headrest, reversing out of your parking space and pulling off.

You sear your gaze into the side of his face until he lets out a soft sigh, hardening around the corners as he prepares to pull out his best bout of professionalism. “What you did was unprofessional. You should’ve never gone into the field with the lack of sleep you had, nor should you have split up from everyone else.” For a split moment, he lets his focus move off of the road in front of him, fixing you with a hard look before glancing away.

A scoff leaves you, eyes rolling dramatically. “Please. Everyone on this team has put themselves in harm's way at some point or another, whether on purpose or out of some innate need to do something stupid. If this were anyone else, you wouldn’t be riding them half as hard and you know it.” The accusation comes out a bit snappier than you want it to, especially since he is your superior, but red is clouding your vision and your heart is leading the way you speak and act.

“They are not you.” He responds with gritted teeth. He doesn’t raise his voice, because he never does, pretending like he’s keeping calm in the face of everything that happens. What he doesn’t tend to notice is that the longer he continues trying to guard himself, the easier it gets to notice all of his telltale signs. Either that, or you’re so far gone in thoughts about him that you’ve noticed all of them.

At his words, your frustration dissolves slowly until it's completely moot, leaving you staring at him with a lax brow and slightly agape mouth. “What does that mean?” No anger, no distaste, just pure curiosity.

There’s that ghost again, floating in the cab of the SUV, hanging out on the center console between you. Thick and heavy, hovering, taunting. It’s the type of feeling that makes you want to reach over, grab him by the collar of that stupid fucking polo and smack a fat one on his lips. You couldn’t complain about him not speaking to you when he was busy shoving his tongue down your throat, could you?

You don’t answer that question. You’d probably still find a way to argue. He’s infuriating. Insufferable sometimes.

Hotch’s tongue runs along the line of his bottom lip as he debates on what to say. “I shouldn’t have let you go. I could tell how exhausted you were. That, mixed with your damn stubbornness.” He shakes his head, glancing out the side window as he pulls into the private side of the airport.

Something grips at your chest, cold fingers around your heart giving it a soft squeeze. For the first time since this ubiquitous feeling had settled over the both of you, he was finally giving you something. A little peek into the shield he had fortified over the years, a soft spot for only you to see. A glimpse into a future where everything isn’t just in your head.

“Hotch, it’s not your fault,” you murmur, voice suddenly feeling too loud in the small space of the car. “You tried to tell me not to go, but I didn’t listen. That makes it my stupid fault.” Your nose wrinkles, pulling a wince from you at the ache in your cheekbone.

His arm flexes as he puts the SVU into park, bracing his elbow on the center console to turn and look at you. There’s a soft silence as he fights his own mental battle, but you let him. There was no use in arguing with someone who had spent most of his life doing everything on his own. That included self-soothing at times.

Finally, he reaches out, brushing his knuckles against the splotchy bruise on your cheekbone. A gentle touch that sends a shiver all the way down to your toes, sparking and tingling. “You’re okay?” He asks, the question loaded with a lot more than just wondering how you feel physically.

Tilting your head enough to lean into his touch, you nod. “I’m okay.” To punctuate your point, you even give him a small smile, blinking slowly, like he’d disappear if you blinked too fast.

It’s obvious that he doesn’t believe you, however he nods back anyways, pulling his hand away from you. Without a word, he opens his door, stepping out of the car and coming around to open your door just as you reached for it.

You don’t speak the entire time you grab your luggage, handing it off to the ramp agents, and make your way onto the jet. There, you settle into seats from across each other.

The feeling will always be a ghost, haunting the both of you. But for now, it’s comfortable.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x bau!Reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x fem!reader

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whumptober · 2 years ago

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Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from. We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine. The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

#whumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 prompts list #whumptober #prompts list #long post

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fettuccin-e · 2 years ago

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The First Time

Kinktober Day 15: Size Kink

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), fingering (r!recieving), oral (r!giving and recieving), Frankie's monster schlong, yeah he's got a giant dick we all know it (w/c: 1.5K)

A/N: Part of the rapid-fire Kinktober catch up! My absolutely massive size kink really let itself free with this one (get it?? massive?? hehehe) but anyway please enjoy my ramblings about taking Frankie's gigantic schlong. (I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)

The first time you undress Frankie, really see him for the first time, bare and open to your gaze, you think you’re fucking hallucinating. He’d been so shy when you’d first met, so unassuming next to Pope and Will and Benny. Tugging the brim of his cap to cover his eyes, a timid little smile playing on his face as you flirted with him, not his friends.

You couldn’t have expected the fucking monster between his thighs the first time you have him naked in your bed, his cock so thick you can barely wrap your hand around him. You don't expect the way you choke on him when you try to blow him, only for you to realize that you hadn't even made it halfway.

He doesn’t fuck you that night, the both of you too high on each other’s bodies and too tipsy from the bottle of wine you’d shared earlier.

“Need time to get you ready, hermosa,” he whispers in your ear, fucking you so hard and deep on his fingers you nearly cry. “Next time baby, next time.”

The first time he fucks you, he doesn’t make it all the way. You think you're ready, despite Frankie’s protests, begging him to fuck you, grinding into his mouth, into his fingers as he works orgasm after orgasm out of your heaving body. Through your blurry eyes, you can see the way his hips thrust gently into the mattress, fucking himself into your sheets as he eats you out, groaning into your pussy as you gush down his face. It’s fucking maddening.

He lines himself up, pressing into you gently, so gently, but God, it’s already too much. Too fucking much. You gasp as the thick head of his cock presses into your entrance, spreading you so much wider than his fingers, wider than you’ve ever been stretched. It fucking stings, and you dig your nails into Frankie’s shoulders as you try to take it for him.

He only sinks in halfway before your body just can’t take it anymore, squeezing him so tight that he can’t possibly move deeper. Tears spring to your eyes at the feeling of it, and you try to apologize, but Frankie only leans down to seal his mouth to yours, kissing the breath out of your lungs.

“Feels so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, sounding so fucking wrecked, and you throb around him at the sound of it. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight.”

You feel lightheaded at the destroyed rasp of his voice, and when he moves, you feel lightning rocket up your spine, whining loudly against his lips. He grins, the shy boy from the bar long gone as he thrusts until he’s halfway in again, fucking you on only half his cock as you keen beneath him. You have no idea how he’ll ever fit inside completely, how just half of him fills you up more than anyone else ever has. “Wanna take all of you,” you gasp, “want it all inside, fuck, Frankie, please.”

He shushes you gently, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Mi amor, we need more time to get you ready,” he murmurs softly. “Next time, baby, next time.”

He fucks you just like that, breaking you open with just half of his cock and fisting the base in a large, warm palm until you squeeze around him with your orgasm. When you beg him to cum inside you, he groans, pumping you full, gripping tight to your thighs. You promise yourself that next time you'll take all of him.

The first time you take Frankie, really, truly take him, you think that he’s more affected than you are.

You’re so wet, dripping down your thighs from Frankie’s endless preparation, his lips shiny with your slick as he leans down to kiss you slowly, deliberately. You find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself.

He’s been fucking you on his thick fingers for what seems like hours, spreading you so wide, wide enough that you thought you’d break.

You don’t know how many times he’s made you cum, how many times he’s told you that it’ll make you looser, get you ready. You think he just likes watching you fall apart, his eyes blown wide as you tremble against the sheets.

When he finally, finally notches the thick tip of his cock against your entrance, pushing forward slowly, you try to brace yourself for pain. It’s so much, he’s so much, and it should hurt, fuck, you should feel like you’re being ripped apart.

But your mind is foggy with desperation, your need to finally fit him inside, that you can barely feel the pain at all. You can only gasp for air as his cock stretches you wide, pressing in so deep it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And he just slides in, easy as that, as if it was easy all along.

And as much as you moan and gasp, your fingers clutching into the skin of his back, it is nothing compared to the way Frankie fucking whines at the feeling of it, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he stills his hips, pressed in as deep as he can get.

“Fuck me, please, oh my God, Frankie,” you gasp, grinding your hips against his on pure instinct, desperate to get him in deeper, somehow. But his hands tighten on you, gripping so hard you think he’ll leave bruises.

“Stop,” he says, deep and raspy and fucking primal. “Stop fucking moving, shit, ‘m trying not to fucking cum.” He sounds goddamn sinful, and your pussy throbs at the sheer idea of him filling you up just from finally fitting inside you. You let him breathe through it, raking your nails gently up his back. He shivers at your touch.

You suck air in through your teeth when he pulls out, just barely, only to fuck back in. He does it again, and again, and again, thrusting so deep into you that his cock fucking drags into your sweet spot, not even trying. You’ve never felt so fucking full before.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight, don’t even know how I can fuckin’ fit,” he mutters, pulling your thighs tighter around his hips and pulling you down onto his thick cock with every thrust. “This little cunt is just sucking me in, ‘s like she can’t get enough.”

“God, yes, Frankie please,” you choke out between labored breaths, your vision blurring at the edges. All you can fucking feel, hear, smell is Frankie above you, warm and towering over you, filling you up so perfect.

“So goddamn pretty wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pounding into you hard enough that tears start to pour down your cheeks. “My greedy baby, am I big enough for you?”

“Fuck! Yes, it’s so- it’s so fuckin’ big, Frankie, I can feel it in my fucking stomach.” You’re slurring your words, your brain turned to mush as Frankie breaks you apart so viciously. He reaches between you to rub quick circles into your clit with a calloused thumb, and your body locks up, your back arching so far it presses your tits into Frankie’s strong chest.

“That’s right, honey, just fuckin’ feel it. Nobody else can fill you up like I can, right?” he snarls, and you can only nod frantically, choked moans punched from your throat every time he thrusts inside you. “Cum, sweetheart. Show me how much you love my big cock.”

And you have no other choice but to fucking scream, pulsing violently around him as you cum. You’re fucking lost in it, broken apart in the best way possible, and Frankie groans, stilling inside of your as he fills you up with cum. It’s pure bliss, a goddamn revelation, and you don’t think it’s ever going to fucking stop. He smothers your cries with a kiss, licking into your mouth and soothing you like a wild animal as you both ride out the aftershocks.

When you finally feel yourself start to breathe normally again, to find it in yourself to blink blearily up at him, smiling softly when you see him already staring down at you. As he pulls out of you, you feel the emptiness immediately, whining as he shushes you gently. “I know, honey, I know,” he murmurs, falling beside you and pulling you into him. “You did so good for me.”

“Damn right I did,” you murmur, sleep already weighing down your eyelids. “Who else is going to take that monster dick of yours?”

He laughs, loud and gruff in the most perfectly Frankie-way you could possibly imagine. “Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it, hermosa.”

And, well, you don’t really have arguments for that.

#oh frankie #sweet husband with a big heart and even bigger schlong #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales smut #frankie x reader #frankie catfish morales #catfish x reader #triple frontier x you #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fic

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whumpcember · 7 months ago

Text

Welcome to the 3rd annual Whumpcember!

Once again, it is just me running the event, so please be aware of any human error. I am grateful for all the participation with choosing the blog theme as well as picking this year's prompts! I hope everyone has a good Whumpcember, and now, here are the rules:

Prompts should be answered with whump as the main focus

Fanfic! Gif! Text post! Fanart! Fan video! Any piece of media that you can possibly make that has whump counts!

You can use the prompts any time! Don't feel the need to rush

Though, prompts answered during December will most likely be reblogged

Post anywhere! AO3, Wattapad, Tumblr, or even Fanfic.Net! So as long as you make a Tumblr post with a link to the answered prompt it may be reblogged.

When posting onto Tumblr you can either @ the blog or tag with #whumpcember24 and the day's tag, such as #whumpcember24 day1

Don't forget to add any warnings necessary, such as NSFW or sexual content

An AO3 Collection will go out on December 1 and close January 1, it's not mandatory, but if you want your works saved in a collection, make sure you get it in on time!

At the end of the month a masterpost will go out to all participants and a badge you can save stating that you are either a participant or completionist. In order to be on the masterpost though, you will have to fill out a google form at the end of month; don't worry it'll take two minutes!

If you have any more questions, send me an ask, but please read the FAQ first!

Written Prompt list below:

Day 1: Broken Bones

Day 2: "This Is Your Fault"

Day 3: Begging

Day 4: "This Isn't My Blood"

Day 5: Concussion

Day 6: "Please Stop"

Day 7: Kidnapped

Day 8: "No. Not Like This"

Day 9: Shaking

Day 10: "Let Me Help You"

Day 11: Manipulation

Day 12: "I Have Nowhere Else To Go"

Day 13: Trauma

Day 14: "I Never Wanted This"

Day 15: Broken Glass

Day 16: Amnesia

Day 17: Greatest Fear

Day 18: Poisoned

Day 19: Panic Attack

Day 20: "Please Leave"

Day 21: Bruises

Day 22: Hallucinations

Day 23: Overwhelmed

Day 24: Walking On Injuries

Day 25: Healed Wrong

Day 26: Falling

Day 27: Hypothermia

Day 28: Whipped

Day 29: Choked

Day 30: Saying Goodbye

Day 31: Hearing Voices

Alt. 1: Sore Throat

Alt. 2: Memory

Alt. 3: Fire

Alt. 4: Lies

Alt. 5: "You're Allowed To Fall Apart"

Alt. 6: "Could You Stay A Little Longer?"

Alt. 7: Motion Sickness

Alt. 8: Running Away

Alt. 9: Alternative Bandages

Alt. 10: "Tell Me I'm Wrong"

#whumpcember24 #prompts #whump #whump prompts #whumpcember #writing prompts

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httpsdana · 8 months ago

Note

Can you do prompt 15 and 20 with kenan yildiz. Like he’s really cuddly n kissy in the morning and your really moody but he won’t stop kissing you. x

btw your the best writer on this app.

Sunshine and Grumbles~Kenan Yildiz

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

this one is so cute. enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

15-"good morning sunshine " " fuck off"

20-"Kiss me"

The morning light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow across the bedroom. y/n groaned, shifting under the covers as the brightness seemed to seep through her eyelids.

Mornings ere never her favorite part of the day, especially when she woke up groggy and irritable.

Next to her, Kenan stirred, already wide awake and annoyingly chipper. The bed shifted as he rolled over, his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her closer.

His warm breath tickled her ear as he nuzzled his face into her neck.

"good morning sunshine" he murmured, his voice filled with that unbearable morning cheer.

y/n groaned, trying to bury her face deeper into the blankets.

"fuck off" she muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Kenan chuckled softly, completely unbothered by her foul mood. If anything her grumpy attitude seemed to amuse him ever more.

He tightened her grip around her waist, pulled her even closer until she was basically flush against his chest. His lips brushed against the back of her neck, feather-light, sending a shiver down her spine.

"c'mon baby" he whispered, his voice soft and teasing. "don't be like that. it's a beautiful morning and I just want to kiss my girl"

She squirmed in his arms, trying to free herself from his grip, but Kenan was persistent. He flipped her onto her back gently, hovering over her with that mischievous smile that never failed to make her heart flutter, even though she'd never admit it right now.

Her eyes fluttered open slightly as she glared at him. "Kenan" she warned, but it was half-hearted at best. She could never really stay mad at him for that long.

Ignoring her protest, Kenan leaned down and pressed a kiss on her cheek.

"kiss me" he mumbled teasingly, before kissing her other cheek. But he didn't stop there, trailing kisses across her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, and across her jawline.

y/n turned her head to the side, trying to avoid Kenan's lips, but he just followed her movements, his kisses landing everywhere but her lips. It was infuriating, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips as he peppered her face with affection.

"Kenan" y/n groaned, this time with a hint of laugh. " I swear- "

He finally paused, hovering just over her lips, his breath warm against her skin. But instead of giving her the kiss she was secretly hoping for, he kissed the tip of her nose.

"what was that sunshine?" he asked, smirking down at her

y/n huffed, swatting his chest half-heartedly.

"you're so annoying" she muttered, but their was no malice in her tone, in fact she was already starting to melt under his touch.

Kenan just grinned wider, leaning down to plant another kiss on her temple.

"and you love it" he said confidently, his lips brushing against her skin with every word.

As much as she wanted to stay grumpy, it was impossible when he was like this-all soft and loving, kissing her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Slowly her resistance crumbled, and she relaxed into his arms with a soft sigh

"okay fine... I love it" she muttered, giving up

Kenan chuckled, finally pressing a sweet kiss on her lips, soft and tender.

"I knew you did" he murmured against her mouth, before deepening the kiss, making her forget all about her morning mood.

#football #football x reader #football blurb #football imagine #football one shot #footballer imagine #juventus fc #juventus #kenan yildiz fluff #kenan yildiz x reader #kenan yildiz imagine #kenan yildiz x y/n #kenan yildiz x you #kenan yildiz one shot #kenan yildiz oneshot #kenan yildiz fic #kenan yildiz fanfic #kenan yildiz #kenan yıldız

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tune-on-in-folks · 8 months ago

Note

imma need that alastor thigh riding PLEASE!! i literally love ur writing ❤️❤️

Day 15! This is so unpolished. But it's an attempt at me not editing my Alastor fics over and over. So enjoy this quick, probably sloppy entry! Also, thank you for your ask. I hope this is okay! <3

Tags/Warnings: thigh riding, orgasm, fem!reader, honestly pretty tame. Word Count: 1,623

Alastor was sitting in his armchair by the fire, a book in his hand. You pause in the threshold of the bathroom, watching him for a few moments. He had a soft smile on his face, his ear twitching the only sign he was aware you were done with your shower.

“Are you going to stand there all night, my dear?” He asks, his voice startling you out of your reverie.

You blush, meeting his gaze as he lowered his book. “No. I was just enjoying the view.”

He hums, switching his book to one hand as he pats his thigh with the other. “Come here.”

You take a deep breath and head over to the Overlord. You stop in front of him, watching him continue to read. It was still strange to you to see Alastor in his pajamas. Staying in his room was a recent change as well, something you were still trying to get used to.

“Well?” He prompts, “Sit down.”

Collecting your nerves, you perch yourself on his knee. Your apprehension earns you a chuckle from the man before he pulls you flush against his chest. A gasp falls from your lips as he spreads his legs, ensuring that you are straddling his thigh.

“A-Alastor!” You exclaim, face flushing with heat.

It was a really bad time for you to have forgotten your underwear in your room, you realize. Because now you were sitting on his lap in just a robe, your clit dragging deliciously against the fabric of his pants. You shift slightly, biting back a whimper at the stimulation against the sensitive nub. Alastor continues to read, unaware of your dilemma. You figure you’ll be okay as long as you don't move. So you lean back against Alastor’s chest, your eyes landing on the book in his hand. You read a couple of paragraphs before you get bored of whatever story he was reading. His hand rests idly around your waist, leaving every time he has to turn the page. You sit there for a few page turns, trying to ignore your growing boredom. You shift again, having forgotten about the stimulation until you move. You’re unable to stop the small whine that leaves your mouth this time.

“Something the matter, my dear?” Alastor asks, his eyes never leaving his book.

You bite your lip, reassuring him, “Nothing, Al. I’m fine, my love.”

You fall back into silence, listening to the gentle jazz music that fills his room. Your eyes wander about his room, taking in all the decorations on the walls. The contrast between the pocket dimension and the cabin-esque room was stark, but somehow worked. His room was a reflection of him and for that reason, you enjoyed it immensely. Alastor may have been actively courting you, but you still felt like there was a great deal you didn’t know about him.

You crane your neck behind you to watch the deer in the bayou when Alastor begins to idly bounce the leg you are sitting on. Your attention is drawn immediately as each bounce moves you, his pants dragging against your clit deliciously. You bite back yet another whimper as your arousal begins to build in your gut. Experimentally, you roll your hips forward, grinding down against his leg. Alastor’s attention never leaves his book, giving you enough courage to do it again. You quickly fall into a rhythm of grinding against his thigh with each bounce of his leg. His movement hid your own. Your breathing hitches, the pleasure slowly building as you get off against his thigh. You bite back another moan, leaning back further against your lover. You were trying to keep your movements small, barely detectable. Of course, you didn’t account for your arousal, which was quickly dampening Alastor’s pant leg. His brows furrow at the sensation, his leg coming to a sudden standstill. You gasp, your hips rolling forward, searching for the friction he just unknowingly deprived you of.

He raises an eyebrow, his attention being drawn away from his book. He observes your chest rising and falling, your breaths coming fast. His eyes flicker over the flush on your cheeks. How you had ground down against him, and the growing wetness on his pants- perfectly beneath you- clicks. He quickly puts it all together.

Nuzzling against your neck, Alastor whispers, “Now, my little doe, would you like to explain yourself?”

His hand gently trails up your exposed leg, closing around the hem of your robe.

You swallow, your voice wavering slightly as you ask, “E-explain what?”

Alastor begins to bounce his leg again, drawing a gasp from you. “Why, I’d like an explanation for why you’re so breathless, my dear.”

He pulls on the hem of your robe, pulling it from the tight wrap around your body. Your hands shoot to fix it before it could fall open completely.

“I-I’m breathless?” You pant, trying to play it off.

You were distracted with how your clit dragged against his pants with every bounce of his leg.

He laughs softly, hand sliding up your body again. “Do you take me for an idiot, dear?”

“No.” You whisper, shame filling you as you realize Alastor knew exactly what you had been doing. “Listen Al, I’m-”

You’re cut off as he pulls the sash free from your robe, letting it fall open completely. His leg stills in it’s bouncing again as he pulls the robe from your shoulders. You shiver as the cold air of his room blows over your body, your nipples hardening in an instant. In a moment you’re completely naked on his lap.

“Oh, I see. No panties, no wonder you’ve managed to soak through my pants.” He muses.

You weren’t certain your face could get any hotter with how embarrassed you were. “Alastor…”

You were certainly aroused, that was for certain, and he knew it. He presses a kiss against your neck, before pulling away to resume reading his book.

“Well?” He prompts, hand brushing against your naked skin, “Keep going.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “Alastor?” You exclaim, not sure if you heard him right.

“That is my name dear, don’t wear it out.” He teases, acknowledging your repeated usage of his name. “Now, as I said before, keep going. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

You had heard him right after all.

You take a moment to collect yourself, to accept that he was allowing you to continue getting off against his leg. You begin to slowly grind against his thigh. You drag your clit against his pant leg, breath hitching with every pass. There was certainly a thrill that came from the fact that Alastor was completely clothed, reading his book, while you sat naked on his thigh, grinding down wantonly against him. He turned to the next page, his hand returning to rest on your thigh. After a few moments of grinding against him, watching him read, it began to annoy you that he was so focused on his book. You begin to move faster, trying to draw his attention to you. You let yourself gasp and moan, no longer holding back, as you attempt to draw his attention.

“Oh, Al!” You whimper, grinding down against his thigh faster as the coil of pleasure builds in your gut. “I’m so close.”

He turns to the next page of his book much to your increasing annoyance. You were so close to your release and yet it seemed so far without his attention, without him responding to you. You turn your body slightly, pressing kisses against his cheek. You pepper them down his jaw and to his neck, your breathing harsh. Despite all your attempts to pull his attention to you, he continues to read his damned book.

“Alastor,” You moan, nipping at his shoulder. “Please…. Please, please, please.”

He turns the page again, his attention never once wavering despite him responding, “Yes, my dear?”

“Fuck!” You curse, frustration building as your orgasm eludes you. “I need you to look at me. Please, just look at me.”

He doesn’t. “I’m reading, little doe.”

“And I can’t cum without you looking at me!” You whine, so close to the edge, and yet so far.

“That is a problem, isn’t it?” he laughs, turning to the next page.

You were pretty sure he hadn’t actually read both of those pages before turning to the next.

“Gah! Are you even reading? That’s the second page turn in a matter of moments.” You complain, frustrated, as you continue to grind against him.

Alastor suddenly snaps the book shut, “Well I was trying to read, my dear. But you are being rather insistent, you know?”

He sets his book onto the small side table next to you both, his eyes trailing down your body.

“Well, you have my attention, my little doe.” He leans into your ear, his breath hot as he whispers, “Going to cum for me now?”

Your hips stutter, a thrill running through you at his low tone of voice. He presses kisses to your neck, eyes watching you grind faster against his leg.

“Cum for me, dear.” He rasps.

You squeeze your eyes shut, rolling your hips forward as you jerk and spasm, your release finally washing over you. His pant leg dampens further as you cum against him. Your orgasm leaves you panting, your chest heaving with each breath. Slowly you settle down, resting your head against Alastor’s chest as you catch your breath. You meet his amused gaze as he looks down at you.

“What?” You breathe out.

“Oh,” He responds brightly, “I’m just amused that you think you’re done.” His voice drops dangerously low, “You had your turn, my dear, but now it’s mine.”

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crescenthistory · 8 months ago

Note

Hey darling, how are you? Hope your having an amazing day ❤️

So I saw your prompt list and I was thinking about b6 and b15 with Regulus Black and kinda Sunshine x Grumpy, like he really tries to keep the facade of being cold and unbothered but reader is just so kind and understanding with him that he just melts whenever it comes to her, the tipical "I hate everybody but you"

hi my love, have been a bit sick and stressed lately, but finding relief in writing, so thank you for your enrichment hihi<3 wishing u the best!

Prompts: B.6 "Are you falling asleep on me?" "..." "Alright then" & B.15 "How are you so cute right now?"

Words: 3k

Warnings: not proofread, use of y/n, regulus black is traumatised and mentally unwell, reader is surprisingly stable and supportive (congrats), trying to make reggie have a dynamic and complex personality, not yet established relationship but Clearly Something, falling in love and fluff, implied fear of (unrequited) love on reggie's part

Note: y'all realllllly love the sunshine x grumpy dynamic with reggie, huh? me too dw

The library was silent except for the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional scratch of quill on parchment. A low fire burned in the corner, its light barely enough to keep the chill at bay, but the two of you had stayed long past the warmth’s welcome. The vast shelves of books loomed around you like silent sentinels, their presence familiar and comforting in the way only a quiet, deserted library could be.

Regulus sat across from you, perfectly composed, as usual. His quill hovered over a parchment filled with notes – meticulously neat, with that sense of perfection you had come to associate with him, exactly as he intended. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as he read, but he didn’t brush it away, too focused on whatever passage had captured his attention.

You admired him, hoping your tired gaze was not too obvious – though maybe it would be good for him to see it. The late hour was getting to you, but you didn’t want to leave, not yet. Nights like this, studying alongside Regulus, had become a routine your body craved. Though he rarely gave any indication that they meant something to him, you had come to peak far enough behind the cracks of his exterior to know he did. Should he wish to not be near you, he would have left, he never had any reservations for doing so when Barty got too many of his nerves or Sirius was too loud.

Yet here you were, both of you drowning in books, the silence broken only by the sound of your quills and the faint crackling of the fire. He seemed... content.

You shifted slightly in your seat, hoping to stifle a yawn as you stretched your stiff legs under the table. The movement caught Regulus’ attention, and he glanced up from his book, dark eyes scanning your face.

“You’re tired,” he stated, his voice low and matter-of-fact. It wasn’t a question.

“Not really,” you lied, offering him a small smile as you looked back down at your notes, dried quill hovering over the page. You could feel his eyes on you for a moment longer before he returned to his book, but his silence spoke louder than any rebuttal. You weren’t fooling him, not for a second.

Regulus knew you as well by now, and he could easily see through your casual deflections. He was also sweet enough on you to not call you out on it yet.

Charms had never been so dreadful as it was tonight, all theory as you copied information from the textbook over onto your parchment. You felt yourself beginning to drift again, blinking only made you sleepier, and the words on the page blurring together in front of your eyes. You pressed your lips together, determined to stay focused, but the exhaustion clung to you like a heavy cloak.

You rearranged yourself to be more comfortable, bringing your legs up underneath you and leaning your head on your arm, taking up perhaps a bit more desk space than what is considered gracious.

Regulus’ quill still scratched against his parchment and you looked up at him through your lashes. He hadn’t glanced at you in a while, his brow furrowed as he scribbled something in the margin of the book he was reading. Upon your movements, though, you saw a small, soft smile tug on his lips, the kind that you weren't sure anyone but you would recognise.

It had become a familiar sight, both the smile and the way he hunched slightly over his work, his focus intense. It was like he was shutting out the world around him – around us, he had once absentmindedly corrected when you told him as much. His face blank then, not paying any mind to the giant grin growing on your own face.

“How do you do it?” you asked suddenly, surprising yourself with the question. Your voice was soft, but in the quiet library, it felt like a disruption. Regulus looked up, his quill pausing mid-scratch, abandoning his sentence.

“Do what?” he asked, his voice even, though there was a hint of wariness in his eyes.

“Stay so… focused,” you clarified, gesturing vaguely to the piles of books around you. “I feel like I’m drowning in information, but you’re always so… collected.”

There was a brief pause. Regulus stared at you for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he lowered his quill, folding his hands in front of him on the table.

“It’s easier that way,” he said quietly, his voice almost too soft for the stillness of the room. His eyes flicked to the side, avoiding yours as he added, “When you don’t let anything else in, it’s easier to focus.”

You studied him for a moment, noting the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders seemed to carry more weight than they should. There was always something simmering beneath the surface with Regulus – something unspoken, something guarded. He never let it out, never gave anyone the chance to see what was really going on inside his mind.

And yet, here you were, sitting across from him in a quiet library, long after everyone else had left, simply because you wanted to. So far, he had been brave enough to let you.

“And is that what you want?” you asked, keeping your tone light, non-confrontational. “To keep everything locked out?”

Regulus didn’t respond immediately. His eyes stayed fixed on the table for a long moment before he finally met your gaze again, his expression carefully controlled. “It’s necessary,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You leaned back in your chair, letting his words settle between you. Necessary. The way he said it felt heavy, like there was so much more beneath that single word. You didn’t push. You never did. Regulus wasn’t someone who opened up easily, and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel like he had to.

You wished more than anything that he could see himself the way you did. That he could let go, just a little, and realise that he didn’t have to carry everything alone.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you said softly, almost to yourself, as you turned your gaze back to your parchment.

Regulus heard you, though. He always did.

A small silence fell between you again, this one thicker with unspoken thoughts. You turned a book on its side to read it from your position lying on your arm, trying to ignore the heaviness of the atmosphere. Regulus hadn’t moved, his hands still folded in front of him, his brow slightly furrowed as though deep in thought.

“I don’t–” Regulus’ voice cuts through the quiet suddenly, making you look up. His jaw tensed slightly before he continued, “I don’t let people in because it is… easier. Safer.”

There was something vulnerable in the way he said it, as though he wasn’t used to sharing even that much. It wasn’t a full confession, not by any means, but it was more than he usually offered, and you understood how much it cost him to say even that.

“You've let me in, though, have you not?” you tried softly, offering him a small, understanding smile. “And so far it's been safe.”

Regulus blinked at that, surprise flickering in his dark eyes. He was not sure what he had expected you to say, but clearly not that.

It looked like he was at a slight loss of words, so you continued, smile still plastered on your face. "I understand what you mean, though. It's not easy to trust in general, and you have had it harder than most. Take everything in your own time, Reggie."

Regulus remained quiet, his gaze dropping back to his notes. You could feel him retreating, slipping back behind his mask, and you let him. You weren’t here to break down his defences, only to be there when he was ready to let someone in. His hand skirted closer to where yours was fidgeting with your quill – not quite touching, but close enough. Close enough.

You turned back to your book, allowing him his silence, trying to make sense of the words that felt increasingly foreign. The night was catching up with you, pulling you deeper into the edges of sleep.

“Y/N.”

Regulus’ voice brought you back to the present. You blinked, realising you had almost drifted off again, your head tilted dangerously close to the open pages of your book. There was a certain mirth in his gaze when it met yours, quickly subdued by what looked like a weary worry.

“I’m fine,” you said assuredly, straightening up in your chair with a slight wince. You could feel the stiffness settling into your back and elbow from sitting too long.

Regulus didn’t say anything at first, just watched you with that same quiet intensity he always had, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You should go,” he said after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. “It’s late.”

You gave him a sleepy smile, placing your head in your hand as you leaned on the desk. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”

Regulus exhaled through his nose, odd mixture of a sigh and a laugh. “I don’t mind being alone,” he said, though there was a hesitation in his voice that made you think he didn’t believe it as much as he wanted to.

“I know," you said, tone gentle, "but I do.”

"You mind being alone?"

"I mind you being alone."

That seemed to catch him off guard. He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he looked down at his lap, his quill tapping against the edge of the table in an absent rhythm.

"I don't really know what to say to that." His face was still partially shielded from you, but you could see there was no menace in his words – just confusion, maybe even... amusement?

"Admitting you don't know something is a good start."

He gave you the first genuine laugh of the night, albeit small. "Okay then." He looked up at you finally, slight smile still playing over his features.

You watched him for a moment longer, noting the contrast of his tense shoulders with his humoured face. He was trying so hard to hold it together, even now.

"I'll stay here for as long as you do, Reg, and I know you still have a few pages left in you."

You leaned back in your chair again, stretching and letting out a small yawn. Regulus eyed you carefully, as if considering something.

"I do," he started. "But if you're staying any longer, you should get more comfortable."

He nodded his head towards the place beside him. While you were sitting in a wooden chair, he sat in a comfy, cushioned love-seat with just enough space for you to join him in. Had you not been intent on studying, you might have sat there from the start, but the harsher chair usually helps you study.

Now, though, you did not hesitate to slip around the table and sink into Regulus's seat with a sigh.

He looked at you over his shoulder, body still angled towards his notes, smiling fondly at you. "Better?"

"Much better, though I hope you know you're playing a risky game right now."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, I might fall asleep here and you will have to stay overnight. It would be rude to leave me."

Regulus just laughed, not dignifying you with further banter, as he turned back to his books. You had one in your lap as well, but the words were mostly jumbled by now.

The next hour trickled by with sparse conversation between the two of you, mostly just the comfortable silence you had grown between you over the months. You asked Regulus a question every now and again, about coursework or life, and he gave you his usual, short answers, though with a much kinder tone than he reserved for others who pestered him with interrogations.

He was halfway through an explanation of why the professor thought it necessary to make you write an essay that is essentially just restating the textbook when he felt something soft thud against him. He looked down and saw the top of your head, hair slightly messy from the hours in the library, lodged between his uniformed arm and back.

"Amour? Are you falling asleep on me?"

"..."

"Alright, then." Regulus couldn't help the smile that tugged on his lips, filled with more emotion than he would have let slide with anyone around. "You did warn me."

Careful not to startle you, he manoeuvred himself around so you were resting against his chest instead, and then slowly lowered you backwards to lean against the back of the chair. One hand cradled your head as he moved you, so you wouldn't get whiplash – there was no other reason, of course.

You were surprisingly soundly asleep for someone who asked him a question mere minutes ago, but then again, he suspected you had been fighting sleep for around two hours. To stay here with him. Regulus's heart clenched at that, and it did not go unnoticed by him that before he would have felt immense guilt for this moment occurring, and now he just felt... oddly soft. Warm.

He tried to place you in a comfortable enough position, still keeping some of your weight up with the left side of his body. With a tentative, slightly shaking thumb, he brushed away some hair that had fallen in your face

Part of Regulus ached to stay like this. To have an excuse to be this close to you, to feel so vulnerable without the overwhelming panic that often threatened to take over his body and mind. He basked in the sense of safety you were somehow able to provide him, but it would take hard work to be able to accept and embrace it. In the creeping darkness of the library, secluded just the two of you, it felt much easier.

Yet, despite your jokes about rudely waking you up, he did not want to risk detention for the both of you by being caught staying out past curfew.

"Y/N?" With a hand on your cheek, he tried to gently move your face to get your attention and draw you out from sleep. "Hey, amour, you need to wake up."

You let out an impudent groan, eyes squeezing as you turned your head a little – into Regulus's hand, he noted with hitched breath. "W'is it?" You slurred your words and he had to stifle his laughter.

"You need to wake up, darling. You fell asleep in the library, but we're done now. Time to get back to your dorm."

You just huffed at that, clearly trying to stay asleep by burying your face – still clutching Regulus's hand to the other cheek – into the cushion behind you. He tried to use his hand on your face again to lightly shake you, but you just grabbed his elbow and held it still in response. Eyes still decidedly shut.

This time, Regulus couldn't hold back his laugh, which in turn made you squint open an eye.

"What are you on about, Reggie?" Your voice was not only rough from sleep, but a bit annoyed, which in turn made Regulus all the more humoured. He never would have taken you, with all your painfully kind words and looks and understanding, to be grumpy in the morning.

"I don't even know," he said through a rather large grin. "How are you so cute right now?"

"Don't know, just am. Come sleep."

"No, no, darling. Time to get up so you can go sleep."

It seemed as if his words somehow seeped through your mind and you finally processed the situation. You opened your eyes and all-but-jerked into an up-right position – face now rather close to Regulus's, enough to see the whiteness of his teeth as he laughed at you. He was laughing at you. The bastard.

"Good morning," he teased, forgetting himself.

"Did you call me cute?"

The humour was almost washed from his face as he seemed to wake up himself, but an endearing smile still clung to his lips. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Mhm, sure you don't." Your smile now matched his. "How much do you have left?" You gestured to his books with your free hand – only now noticing that your other was still clutching his elbow. His hand dropped from your face the second your properly woke up, but you never let go of him. Maybe the sleep made you delirious or his comment made you brave, because you kept your hand on him.

"Oh, I'm finished." He gave you a look that you couldn't tell if was teasing because you clearly didn't or if he was lying about being done so you could go sleep. Either way, you accepted it.

"Great, let's get us to bed then, shall we?"

When Regulus got out of his seat, he held out a hand to you, to help you up. When you accepted it and ended up standing almost impossibly close to him, he didn't step back, and he didn't look away. He just smiled.

"Yeah, let's."

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febuwhump · 1 year ago

Text

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPT LIST

this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates

i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!

please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: helpless

DAY 2: solitary confinement

DAY 3: "bite down on this"

DAY 4: obedience

DAY 5: rope burns

DAY 6: "you lied to me"

DAY 7: suffering in silence

DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"

DAY 9: bees

DAY 10: killing in self defence

DAY 11: time loop

DAY 12: semi-conscious

DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

DAY 14: blood-stained tiles

DAY 15: "who did this to you?"

DAY 16: came back wrong

DAY 17: hostage situation

DAY 18: too weak to move

DAY 19: "please don't"

DAY 20: truth serum

DAY 21: unresponsive

DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"

DAY 23: presumed dead

DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"

DAY 25: waterboarding

DAY 26: "help them"

DAY 27: left for dead

DAY 28: "no... not like this"

DAY 29: not allowed to die

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: human shield

ALT 2: "i love you"

ALT 3: found footage

ALT 4: human weapon

ALT 5: cpr

ALT 6: immortality

ALT 7: last words

ALT 8: killing game

ALT 9: lightning strike

ALT 10: last man standing

RULES:

SOFT RULES:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce whatever kind of media they want

you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to

you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event

you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days

if you have questions consult the faq before asking

HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)

the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…

nsfw (if relevant)

and any trigger warnings that may be important!

you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump

i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhump2024 #prompts #whump #whump prompts

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ryescapades-archived · 4 months ago

Note

endo + prompt #15 please ms rye

→ EVENT OVERVIEW

prompt: 7 - “shut up and let me kiss you.” // 15 - “yes, ma’am.” characters: endo yamato (wbk) x f!reader contents: fluff, non-sexual nudity ?? (they're sharing a bath ..) slight suggestive towards the end wc ~ 700

a/n: @nyxypoo thankyouuu for requesting pookie <3 and thank you to nonnie too i hope u don’t mind me combining these two prompts ^^

the sounds of gentle water rippling and soft music playing in the background fill the bathroom, your reflection in the mirror staring back at you before your eyes fix on a pair of cerulean hues.

you’d taken your sweet time stripping off the moment you’d stepped foot onto the cold tiles, washing away the grime of the day in the shower before deciding to take a little soak in the tub for a while. a tub which has been preoccupied by your boyfriend ever since you came back home, and one that has been tempting you to jump into from all the nice fragrant stuff he’d thrown in.

one thing you’d taken into consideration before dipping in though, is his endless chatter. endo was very much enthusiastic upon your entry past the bathroom threshold, greeting you home (albeit while he was still neck-deep in the tub) with those bright eyes and stupid lovesick smile of his. from the moment you stepped into the shower and now preparing yourself to get into the water with him, he has been running his mouth, filling the room with one-sided conversations that you’d only “mhm” and “oh, i see” at.

it’s not like he minds. endo is all the more happy to just have you anywhere in his proximity, your point of focus be damned. as long as you’re there with him, he’s content with talking your ear off about the random things that have been happening in his life.

“oh, i just remembered! i’ve been working on a new design for us to do. you know, like the one i have with takiishi,” warmth blankets your skin when you finally dunk a leg into the tub, endo straightening himself and making adequate room for you as you lower yourself down to sit face-to-face and chest-to-chest with him.

“i was wondering where you’d like yours to be, because for me–” he babbles on as his large hands slip from his sides to settle on your waist and pull you closer, your eyes distractedly trailing from his flushed cheeks to the inked swirls peeking just shyly above the water surface.

absently playing with the curled strands on his nape, you close your eyes for a quick second. the day has been eventful, and all you’d wanted to do was clean yourself up and get some food before ending the day snuggled in bed with your man.

as much as you love endo yamato, he can be so…–

“yamato?”

he stops mid-sentence and stares up at you with a particularly curious glint, “mm?”

you take in his expression, slowly roving over each of his sharp features that you’d begrudgingly grown to be endeared with, as if committing his face into your head so that it could stay there forever. you exhale, chest relaxing and ever so slightly brushing against his, “shut up and let me kiss you.”

his eyes widen. you can see his mouth stretching into a grin but before he could get a single word out, you pull him by the back of his neck, connecting your lips together to properly shut him up.

the water splashes around you as endo hums into your mouth, his hands moving to splay over the curve of your back. his lips glide against yours in a tandem, a low rumble of contentment slipping out of him from the way you move your head to the side to kiss him deeper.

something stirs deep within him. it coils at the base of his stomach, borderline hot and it’s searing his blood like liquid bubbling in an ignited cauldron. the primal need to consume and be consumed, it coaxes him to extend his desire down to your neck, your collarbones, anywhere he could lay his worship on.

you fist on his damp hair, a depraved groan coming out of him as he’s pulled back, lips detaching from the heat of your wet skin. “not here, yamato. be patient and you might get more after we’re finished here.” you murmur, still feeling the exhaustion loafing in your body.

hopefully he’ll eventually forget about it if you somehow make yourself fall asleep right here in the tub–

heavily lidded eyes glisten in the low light of the bathroom, his excitement growing tenfold at the promise of your words. a smirk curls on his lips, and he drawls, “yes, ma’am. i’ll hold you to that.”

… guess you won't get to rest anytime soon (not like you could resist him anyway).

he looks at u like this when u ask him for a kiss btw

this menace /smacks him

#endo yamato x reader #endo x reader #yamato endo x reader #endo yamato fluff #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker x you #wind breaker x you #wind breaker x y/n #1kakes event 🎂#wind breaker fanfic #wind breaker fluff #windbreaker fanfic #windbreaker fluff #🥣 rye works

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dc418writes · 3 months ago

Text

•Lemons & Limes•

✨Pairing✨: Terrence Richmondxblack!reader

Summary🪄: Safe to say, maybe you shouldn’t be left alone…and you should probably listen to your husband

🚨: mention of a deceased relative, pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: hi☺️! So this is my submission for Terry’s Birthday Bash created by @megamindsecretlair ! I think it’s such a great and sweet idea that’ll definitely add some much needed fun to the community🌸! Feel free to participate if you’d like, and don’t forget to support the other submissions!

*DISCLAIMER!: I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

You just had to mess with that electrical panel.

All you had to do was wait until Terry came home so he could try to figure out what happened, - like he told you to do - but no. That overly confident, hyper-independent part of you was so convinced you could fix it after recalling an episode of some home renovation show that you half watched as you occasionally dozed off.

“Seems easy enough, I just flip the switch off and on, and things should work again,” you said to yourself as you opened the mounted panel. Sure enough, all the lights in the house switched off after pushing the large black switch to the left. When you pushed it to the right though, you were still surrounded by darkness. You tried again, and again, yet still nothing prompting your subdued panic to boil over.

Now here you sat in your husband’s Ford truck, nervously twirling your thumbs around themselves as you waited for him to get you both checked in at a nearby hotel. And of all days, on his birthday.

The chill of the night air briefly touching your skin has goosebumps raising along your arms as Terry slides into the drivers seat with a sigh.

“Everything okay?”

“They’re booked,” he answers pulling the seatbelt across his body until it locks with a click. “And so is every other hotel in town.” Gotta love college basketball playoff season.

“Oh…well one night without lights-,”

“We don’t know how long it’s gonna take to fix,” he counters carefully pulling out onto the busy road. “Might even have to re-wire everything, which could mean more than a night without lights.”

Well if you didn’t feel terrible before..

“It’s a motel about 30 minutes out. We can stay there tonight and figure out the rest tomorrow.”

“Okay,” you shyly mumble beginning to nervously twirl your thumbs again. Just as to the hotel, Terry doesn’t say a word during the ride to your next destination and you don’t either. The only sound coming from the truck’s rumble and the radio station playing a mix of old and new R&B.

You’re sure he’s just quiet because he’s trying to think of what to do next; how to handle your house’s faulty wiring and its impending cost. His silence only makes your guilt more suffocating though, convinced that it might be you and your hardheaded tendencies that’s finally snapped his last nerve.

“What do you wanna eat?,” he finally asks turning down the busy strip filled with bright, neon signs for clubs, bars, and restaurants. Admittedly most weren’t outwardly pleasing, but you could still find a good meal and an equally good time.

You shrug. “M’not really hungry.”

“…what all did you eat today?,” he asks taking turns looking at you and the cars ahead.

“Um…breakfast with you earlier…and some crackers...”

After turning into the drive thru for Wingz & Thingz, you can feel Terry’s sea-green eyes practically attached to the side of your face. That famous side eye already saying, “Girl please, we both know you starving so why you playin games?,” before he could.

“What?,” you ask daring to meet his eyes pretending like you didn’t know that he knew something was up. He simply kisses his teeth before answering the employee through the staticky speaker.

“Can I get a 10 piece hot honey, extra wet, with fries, and a 15 piece lemon pepper please?”

“I said-,”

“I heard you,” he retorts with a hint of a smirk to his full lips that has you bashfully biting at the corner of yours.

“Thank you.”

“Mhmm.”

The rusted, metal door of your room opens with a heavy thud as it knocks against the adjoining wall making it rattle. Ever the protector, Terry has you stand outside - but still close by - while he checks to make sure nothing is off. Both of your respective duffles slung over his broad shoulders as if they weighed nothing.

“It’s good,” he calls signaling it’s okay for you to enter. However once you cross the doorway, you can’t fully say you agree on ‘good’. The multicolored, geometric comforter was something straight out of the 70s, which matched the orangish-red carpet and overall aesthetic of the outdated room. Gingerly sitting in the light brown, swivel chair next to the window, you feel that pang of guilt again taking in your slightly depressing surroundings, and how all of this is ultimately your fault.

“I know it’s not the best, but-,”

“Are you mad at me?,” you finally ask just wanting everything out in the open rather than your mind constantly go back and forth.

“Why would I be mad?,” he asks with a quirked brow as he sets your bags to the side.

“Because I didn’t listen and messed up everything. Because we’re here in this room with questionable stains on the carpet, and I’m sure equally strange ones on the sheets, on your birthday when we should home and you stretched out in your favorite chair.” You could hear the brown leather crackle and pop now as he shifted to get more comfortable before eventually reaching out for you as you passed to join him. Hell, it was your favorite chair too.

“First off, I haven’t been excited about my birthday since I was…what..16? So I wasn’t expecting anything huge,” he replies stepping closer and closer until he can squat in front of you placing his large hands on your knees. “And I’m not mad at you. That’s what’s been bothering you?”

“Well, you barely talked in the car which is different than how you were this morning. Clearly it’s something and I figured it was me being hardheaded.”

“Respectfully baby, I knew you were hardheaded before we got married and know it’s not gonna change no time soon. I made my bed, I know how to lie in it.” Your feigned shock and playful smack to Terry’s shoulder has all his 32 showing in that adorable laugh of his.

“Hey, at least I admit it!” Unlike your own mother who swore she didn’t know where you got it from.

“You right.” Terry’s laughs settle into a low sigh as he lets his thumbs run along the insides of your knees. “Really though, I’m more frustrated and annoyed than mad. Again, not at you. My damn half-brained cousin should’ve been come to look at the wires, but it was always something. Guess I’m no better though still calling when I know he’s not gonna show.

“So if anything, all this is my fault. I know you were just trying to help.”

“It’s not your fault either,” you try to soothe resting your hands on either side of his neck. Your manicured nails lightly scratching his nape has a low hum of appreciation rumbling his chest. “Really, it’s whoever stayed there last because they knew and didn’t say nothing. I hope they always stump their pinky toe.”

“Damn, so violent.” You simply shrug making your husband deeply chuckle with a shake of his head. “Alright food first or shower?”

“Food! I’m starving and honestly scared of that bathroom...”

“Oh now you starvin?,” Terry smirks gently pulling you out of the chair. “Could’ve sworn-,”

“Yes I know, I know it’s in the past now,” you playfully roll your eyes shooing him towards your waiting containers. “Food please?”

With his back turned, you hope he doesn’t notice you sneakily digging into your bag to retrieve his gift wrapped neatly in shiny, silver paper. You should’ve known better though seeing that your husband was an ex marine trained to be hyperaware of his environment.

“I know that’s not what I think it is,” Terry announces as soon as you stand up again. His thick arms crossed in front of his chest when he turns around. “You didn’t have-,”

“I heard you,” you smirk stepping closer with his gift in hand. “It’s still your birthday though, and if you think I’m not getting you anything at all, you clearly don’t know me.”

You don’t miss the small smile that curls his lips when he takes the rectangular box making you giddily smile yourself. Once he’s ripped through the paper, his chest tightens at the familiar, gold, Casio watch waiting in its clear case. The underside purposely facing upward so Terry could see the inscription of his initials and a set of coordinates.

“It’s where your uncle was stationed. I talked with your grandma and she helped me find it.”

Terry adored his uncle Louie, practically idolizing him since he was a child. Wherever Louie went, little Terry wanted to go eagerly standing by his room door with shoes on the wrong foot waiting for him to walk out. Some of Terry’s best memories were riding around in the passenger seat of his black on black mustang - much to his grandmother’s displeasure - with the windows down as they sped down the highway going any and everywhere. Louie was ultimately the reason he signed up for the military, still wanting to be like his infamous uncle even in his young adult years.

Terry still had a hard time forgiving himself for missing the funeral. Was honestly still pissed at his higher ups for not approving his request.

“He’d understand baby. He knows how them people can be,” his grandmother tried to comfort over the phone. “He knows how much you love him.”

“She wasn’t quite sure if it was the same one-,”

“It’s perfect.” As many times as he got in trouble for putting it on, he’d be able to pick it out from any lineup. “Thank you.”

Free hand on your hip, he pulls your body closer so his lips can meet yours immediately taking the day’s earlier stresses away.

“Happy Birthday. It’s not exactly how I envisioned giving it to you, but-,”

“I don’t care about presentation and all that. I’m breathing. I’m with you. I promise that’s all I need baby.”

+ so I feel like this didn’t come out the way I wanted, but then again maybe it’s just me 🤷🏽‍♀️ lol. Either way I hope you enjoyed🌸 and Happy Birthday to my imaginary husband and baby fahtha Mr. Terry Richmond🥰✨!!

#Terry’s birthday bash #terry richmond #terry richmond x black reader #Terry Richmond x woc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre #aaron pierrexreader #aaron pierre x black reader #Aaron Pierre x woc #terry richmond x reader

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