#i could give a straight answer but this is more fun

[sturnioloszn]

OLD TOGETHER - C.S

summary; you and chris are reminiscing on the day you adopted trevor and how everyone has grown old together.

warnings; noneee, it's a fluff!

a/n; it was bound to happen that i'd write a oneshot with trev. also, i'm gonna try to write a few more fluffs for NNN (lmaoo, i'll still do a few smuts, i wont starve u sluts dw) but yeahhh, enjoy!

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

The triplets were finally back in Boston, and they asked if I wanted to hang out and have a movie night with them. Of course, I accepted. The triplets and I have been friends since elementary, and we used to see each other every single day. But ever since they moved to La, we've seen each other a lot less. So, whenever the opportunity presents itself, we hang out as much as possible.

Nick and Matt were currently out grabbing the pizzas and snacks for the movie night, whereas Chris and I decided to stay back. We were sprawled out on the couch, mindlessly talking to each other. I missed this. I miss being able to come over whenever and just hang out. I missed their company. I missed them.

After a few minutes, the conversation died down, and we were enjoying eachothers comfortable silence until a soft snoring was heard from the left of me. Chris and I both look up from our phones and look to see who was snoring even though we already knew who it was.

Trevor was curled up under a grey blanket on his dog bed, which was kept on the couch. God, this dog is sooo spoilt. We watch as he sleeps, his gentle snores being the only noise in the room. Chris and I exchanged a small glance and laughed under our breath, trying not to wake up Trev.

"Do you remember when we first got him?" I ask, looking back to Chris. He had his phone in his hand, recording Trevor as he slept.

"Of course I do. How could I forget?" He smiles, ending the recording.

-

"Come on, Nickkk, it'll be fun," Chris whines. We had just finished the school day, and Chris and I were begging to go to the animal shelter, but Nick and Matt were not convinced.

"No, mom said to come home straight away," Nick states. He looks over to Matt before speaking again, "Isn't it mom said that?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at Matt.

"Um... yeah. Chris, let's just go home," He pleads, not wanting his brothers to fight. Chris stomps one of his feet and shakes his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes slightly.

"Y/n wants to go too, and mom won't care if we come home like ten minutes later," He says, looking over to me. Now, all three of them are glarring at me, waiting for me to pick a side.

"How about me and Chris, go to the shelter for a couple of minutes, and you guys go home?" I say, trying to stop the fighting and make everyone happy.

"Fine, when mom takes your playstation away, I'm going to laugh at you," Nick says, sticking his tongue out to Chris and grabbing Matt's hand before walking away. Now it's just me and Chris standing outside the animal shelter.

"Are you sure we won't get in trouble?" I ask, looking into his innocent, blue eyes. He looks back at me before shaking his head and grabbing hold of my hand. We walk to the door of the animal shelter and struggle slightly to push it open, but when we do, a small bell rings.

As the bell stops, a girl with long brown hair comes out to the front. She looks at us before giving a warm smile, "Hi kids, what can I do for you guys?".

We both smiled back before I opened my mouth to answer her, "we were wondering if we could look at some doggies?" I question, with a hopeful gleam in my eyes.

"Of course," She chuckles, leading us to the back where all the animals are kept. There's a few dogs, cats, and even a bunny. But before she could explain anything the bell to the front of the shop rang again. "Sorry guys, give me a sec," She says hurrying to the front.

We take the opportunity to start looking at all the animals. There was a small white dog but it looked a bit crusty and next to it was a really big black and white dog.

"Ooo, this one is a husky," Chris says, reaching his hand into the cage to stroke it. He pets the dog's head and it instantly gets super excited and starts to wag it's tail. I wonder if these animals ever get lonely? Thinking about this makes me sad and I feel tears in my eyes. "Y/n, come here, come pet it," he says, turning around.

That is when he sees that I'm are crying and instantly stops petting the dog. "Why are you crying? What's wrong?" He asks, putting his arm around my shoulders. I cover my face with my small hands, trying to hide the tears but they keep flowing.

"It's sad, what if they get lonely and nobody pays them any attention?" I sniffle and try to wipe my tears away. He looks at me for a moment as if deep in thought.

"I'm sure they're not?" he tries to reassure but it doesn't really help. I keep sniffling trying to fight any more tears from falling when the girl comes back in with a puppy in her hands. She takes a look at me before asking the same question had Chris asked moments ago.

Chris explains to her that I'm sad because I think the dogs are probably lonely and wants some love. "Awhh sweetheart, it's okay. I promise they get plenty of love. Here, how about you hold this fella," she says passing the puppy that was in her arms into mine.

The small dog was brown with a little, black button nose. I cradle the dog in my arms and pet it softly. Chris reaches over to also show him some affection.

"What's his name?" Chris asks the girl.

"He actually doesn't have one yet, he was just brought in, he's a puppy," she says, watching me hold the dog close to my chest. A smile down at the dog, it is so cute. I wish I could keep him but my mom would never allow it.

"Chris, d'you think your mom would let you keep him?" I ask, mentally crossing my fingers and toes that he'd say yes.

"Hm, maybe? Let me go ask!" He says, before running out the door. I didn't even have time to react before he was already out of eye-sight. He was probably running down the street, back to his house to ask if they could keep him.

I kept cradling the doggy and the girl reassured me that all the animals are very loved even if they don't have a 'forever home' yet.

Before I knew it Chris comes speeding back, dragging his mom by the hand; Nick and Matt trailing behind them.

Me and the girl both move back to the front to meet with everyone else. "Look mom! Isn't he the cutest?" Chris asks, pulling the dog into his arms to give him mom a closer look. She closely examines the dog before turning to the woman behind the desk.

"How big will he grow?" She asks. Nick and Matt move closer to us to take a closer look at the dog.

"I guess he's kinda cute," Nick admits, still salty about the argument from earlier.

"Nick you can't lie, he's really cute," Matt agrees, coming to also pet him. We were now all surrounded by the dog petting him and showing so much love.

The dog didn't mind all of the attention, he just yawned and settled into Chris' arms.

"Not big at all, he's a pug and beagle mix, so he won't grow too much bigger than he is now," the girl explains. I watch their mom pull out her purse from her bag and take out a card.

The woman behind the desk smiles and looks back over to us before speaking, "hey guys, he's all yours,". We look back and forth between us before all running to hug their mom. She laughs and hugs as all back.

"But you guys have to promise you'll stop arguing now, alright?" She says, shaking her head with a smile. Nick must have told her about the disagreement the four of us had earlier. We all agreed to her condition before we began throwing names around so that we could figure out what to name our newest friend. Amongst all our chatter, Chris speaks up so he can be heard.

"Y/n and I should be the ones to name him because it's technically our dog, we wanted him!" He says, making all of us stop speaking. Nick goes to open his mouth to disagree but their mom stops him.

"How about we all agree on a name, hm?" She says, leading us out of the shelter and on the walk back to the triplet's house we agreed on the name Trevor. When their mom heard the name she laughed and questioned it but Chris said he randomly thought of it which made us all laugh.

-

We share a smile, remembering our childhood and how crazy it was that we've had Trev for so many years now. We've all grown up together which was almost enough to bring tears to my eyes again.

Out of nowhere, Nick and Matt burst through the front door, "GUESS WHO BROUGHT BACK PIZZAAAA!" Nick exclaims, as if we didn't know.

Matt follows behind him, shaking his head. We spend the rest of the night, laughing, eating, snd enjoying eachothers company. It makes me sad that we are getting older and that we're leaving our childhood behind but I can't wait to continue to grow old together and see what the future brings us.

★ ° . *　　°　.　°☆ 　. * ● ¸. 　　　★ 　° :. ★　 * •

a/n; thank you for readingggg, I hope you enjoyed it and lmk if u have any suggestions for future fics! love you all <33.

Taglist; @idrk2292 @mattsfavseason @aalicats87 @045696 @forgottxen @mattsturniolover

[altocat]

That ask about sephiroth having bad eyesight made me think of like. AGZ fucking around and stealing hojo's glasses to put them on and make fun of him to cheer up sephiroth like that one calvin and hobbes strip but then sephiroth, buoyed by their actions is like. "Give them here. I'll make fun of him too" and then he puts them on and goes "huh." Like:

~~~~~

"Hm." Sephiroth squinted through the lenses, baffled by the sudden shift in the world.

Angeal laughed. He was half a room away, but he had a smile of full teeth, creases in his face from the joy of it. "Yeah, the guy's blind as a bat, isn't he?"

He didn't get much chance to respond to that.

"Your pupils are freaking OUT, dude." Zack was peering at him- his eyes were the same shade as Angeal's. Was that the mako eyes people spoke about?

"I didn't realise that poster on the wall had words." He remarked. "Who would leave a cat hanging on a branch anyway?"

"You're joking, right?"

"No, of course not." He didn't mean to sound as defensive as he did. "Do you think there's a good reason to leave a cat hanging?"

The three of them were silent in the way he had come to recognise as meaning he'd said something Abnormal- except this time it was punctuated by the weird glances they were giving each other.

Angeal picked something up from the desk next to him, took a few steps back, and held it up "Sephiroth," He didn't like that tone of voice. "Just to check, what does this say?"

He narrowed his eyes, which made the light less glaring, but then things were indistinct again, so he took a hand to the glasses and adjusted them until it was clear again- which gave him a very good look at the growing concern on his friends' faces- but did make the thing clarify into a written page. "Report on the incident- That's your report from last month." His frown deepened. "Is that why he wears these things? So he can read things from the next desk over? Why doesn't he just get closer if he wants to read something? Though, I wouldn't put it past him to be going out of his way to snoop on people-"

"Seph, can you take those off and read it?"

"What, from over there? Don't be absurd. Do I look like a pair of binoculars to you?"

They were Looking at each other again. Was this normal? Did they always do this when he spoke? It was disconcerting.

Genesis plucked the glasses off his face, and he scowled, the sudden smeariness of everything exacerbating the growing pain in his head.

Genesis moved his hand- it was a test he recognised immediately.

"Three." He said, before Genesis even had a chance to ask.

Genesis was silent for a second. Sephiroth could imagine, now, more of those Looks.

He took the paper from Angeal- the white shape moving to his hand.

"What?"

"Well, now what is it?"

"What's what? I told you I can't read from half a room-"

"No, I mean my hand."

His... hand?

Sephiroth squinted again. He could sort of see a darker shade over- was that his hand?

"How am I supposed to know? I can't see what position your hand is in."

That silence definitely felt like a Look.

"Okay, please explain how the fuck you were telling how many fingers i was holding up."

"Hand position." Wasn't this obvious? "It's never one- it's always two, three, four or five." He held his own hand up to demonstrate. "Two fingers tilts the hand inward slightly, three tilts it outwards, four even further outward, and five is straight up, but the splay of the thumb sticks out more compared to one."

Genesis held up his other hand.

"Four."

This was obviously the wrong answer, given the increasingly uncomfortable mood of the room.

"No, it's two. I just tilted my hand the other way."

"How was I supposed to know it wasn't four, then?"

"Seph, that's not how you're- the point is you're supposed to be able to count each finger. It's a vision test for blurring, not for recognising patterns."

He was about to ask how the fuck he was supposed to count fingers, but then a realisation hit him.

All the long silences and Looks and tests...

He'd failed at something.

He was supposed to be able to do these things, wasn't he?

Something Angeal said earlier caught his attention. He'd said hojo was blind as a bat as if that was notable, but not concerning.

He chose his words carefully

"Are some people simply... better at seeing than others?"

That familiar silence of Fucking Up settled once again.

"Dude," Said Zack. "We have GOT to get your eyes tested."

Imperfect, said a reassuring voice in the back of his head. Imperfect, just like everyone else.

Imperfect, agreed another part of him, one much less soothing. Identically to Hojo.

HHHHHHHHHHHHH ANON WTF THIS IS SO GOOD I'VE BEEN AMBUSHED ASDFGDSADFDS

Sephhhh sweetheart it's okay cool guys wear glasses tooooo asedfghjgfds

[transformers-synergize]

Is Mirage a traitor/mistaken as a traitor in this continuity as well? Lovely designs btw!

Happy ya like my Mirage design

Well he certainly is a strange one but aren't most the nobles, he doesn't seem to have any close freinds on the crew but he also doesn't really have any enemies ether, except if you count that one overly suspicious minibot. Mirage just tends to stick to himself and out of sight and out of mind of most bots on the crew.

Only time anyone noticed anything wildly out the ordinary with his behavior was when he freaked out because he didn't want ratchet opening his Chassis for repairs, But guess that's understanble some bots don't like being open up, so it's probably nothing to worry about.

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

That other guy would fuck it up so that you made macaroons instead of macrons

They're approaching menacingly with a bag of shreaded coconut

now see that would be quite interesting, and definitely be making the most out of the use of time travel

also if someone goes that far, then they absolutely deserve the chance to ruin my macarons lol

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game

tim creates a clone of kon, but this is dicktim tim has to carry the fetus or breastfeed it, but dick suddenly gets a mommy kink and immediately falls in love

for the ask game!

DICKTIM MOMMY KINK. how did you know i have such a thing for just about any Batcest ship where the other person calls Tim mommy. i don't even know why i just think that shit is so fun.

it'd have to be Omegaverse for me, that's the only scenario i personally could write m-preg. i like the thought of no one knowing that Tim has gone on this crusade. and after 99 failures, Tim's so desperate and angry he tries in vitro fertilization. the first few times it doesn't work so he doesn't take it too seriously, at this point it's just a compulsion. he gets to a point he stops taking the pregnancy tests. so when about a month later, he's experiencing morning sickness and he's missed his heat, Tim has an 'oh, shit.' moment. and well. telling Dick first is his *natural* answer. (i think he'd also go to Steph, but in canon she'd be "dead" at this point) Tim doesn't know what to do, he didn't think he'd get this far. Dick is comforting and grounding, agreeing to help Tim hide this the best he can. Tim has to time it right, fake a bad injury so it makes sense he's benched and wearing baggy sweaters for a few months.

it's platonic at first. Dick is an alpha but his bond with Tim is more of a pack bond and he's just trying to help Tim through this awkward situation he got himself into. (and not laugh at him too much in the process bc well. only Tim. only Tim could manage this.) the pregnancy hormones have Tim all over the place. he's seeking comfort and Dick is trying to keep it platonic and professional, even when he's cuddling Tim or bringing him weird cravings at 2 am. the trust in Dick and Tim's bond makes Dick Tim's only real support system. (also just bc the Titans were a goddamn mess in this era) maybe at some point they tell Bruce the truth but Bruce is dealing with Jason so. bigger fish. it forces them closer as Dick is the only one who can help Tim with the awkward sides of pregnancy. Dick is basically living with Tim and because Tim can't satiate the itch to be in the field (he's tried sneaking out, it earned him a lecture from Dick and a warning that Dick would handcuff him to the radiator if Tim tried that again) so Tim runs comms. for anyone who asks, but mostly for Dick, to the point he's in Dick's ear even when Dick doesn't need the backup, just to keep each other company.

i think, as the pregnancy went on and Tim's chest started to fill out and his hips are bigger, that's when Dick's feeling shift. one second Tim is just his pack, the next Tim is suddenly a very pretty, very vulnerable omega that's Dick is protecting and his wires get all kinds of crossed about it. he starts dousing himself in scent blockers so Tim doesn't notice the change, can't smell how much Dick wants him. which makes Tim annoyed because Dick's scent has been a consistent calming factor keeping the worst of his hormones in check. it'd lead to an awkward fight where Dick is dancing around the truth and Tim just wants to bite him out of anger. finally, Dick admits it and. Tim kind of bluescreens bc sure he's had a crush on Dick for years, but it's sort of like your celebrity crush calling you up and asking for a date. it makes no sense and he can't wrap his head around it. he almost thinks Dick is making fun of him, because Tim is super self-conscious about the pregnancy and mortified he put himself in this situation. it takes a lot of reassurance and a long conversation, but. well, they do end up having sex.

Dick doesn't *mean* to call Tim mommy the first time. he knows Tim hates being emasculated as an omega, and knows Tim is vulnerable about being pregnant. their sex is gentle, no matter how much Tim insists he can take it because Dick doesn't want to hurt the baby, or Tim. it's when Tim finally huffs with annoyance and flips them over -reminding Dick that Tim is still trained and deadly, even like this- to take control and actually get the rough sex he needs right now, when it slips out. there's something just very pretty about Tim taking control and taking what he needs from Dick, but still being whiny and squirmy on top of him. so the first time Dick calls him mommy is an accident and they're *both* startled by just how much they like it. their sex life goes from soft and caring to *very* interesting overnight, where Dick doesn't hide how much he likes Tim's chest. and well. breastfeeding kink. for completely scientific reasons, of course. just to help the milk flow and make sure Tim's body is adjusting well. definitely not bc of the noises Tim makes when Dick does it no sir.

when Tim finally has the clone baby, they're both smitten with this tiny clone. i think they'd end up mating and either say it's Dick's baby or they adopted it. (the lie only works short term bc well, sooner or later that baby's going to start lifting trucks. not to mention Kon does come back to life and is perturbed by how much Tim's kid looks like him.) it's a very cute, fluffy happily ever after sort of deal, with plenty of mommy kink. i think Tim would be huffy and annoyed at how long he'd have to wait for sex bc in my mind, Tim uses sex as a stress relief and is very annoyed when he's deprived of it so, they'd find creative ways around it.

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below 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.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! 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

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

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. They are meant 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 a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

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 it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

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

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

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

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#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. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. 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 create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. 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? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 5

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“So you’re that dead kid everyone’s talking about.”

Danny smacked a trash bag into the purple clad vigilante. “You can pick up the glass.”

“Wait, I’m just here to-”

“Bother me when I’m working? At least the litterer brings me cash. You can help clean or you can leave. Plastics go over there.”

Danny pointed at a pile of plastics, ignoring Spoiler’s bemused look. Hard to tell, really, considering her mask.

“I’ll help clean if you answer some questions!” Spoiler chirped, already moving to pick out the glass in the general trash pile Danny’s managed to gather. He nodded.

“Alright. At least you’re helping. The other one just bothers me and leaves his stuff on the beach.”

Spoiler snorted. “I’m Spoiler. Is the litterer Batman?”

“Sure. I don’t really care what his name is,” which was a complete lie, Danny was a fan. It’s just that messing with Batman (especially after he couldn’t clean up after himself, honestly!) overrode his fan behavior. “But if I catch him leaving shit in the waters again…”

Danny frowned, eyes glowing. He could feel- even with his partial tangibility, the muck of Gotham's waters seeping into his boots. It was not giving 'Live, Laugh, Love' to Danny, and he needed it gone.

“Whatever. They dropped a lot of guns down here. You can deal with those too, yeah?”

“I'm pretty sure that's evidence?!”

“If you could call it that.” Danny plucked away the Styrofoam and the hazardous (more than regular, anyways) materials away from the trash pile so Spoiler could dig through with her gloves without contracting sixteen different sorts of illnesses.

“So, what brings you to Gotham?”

Danny pointed at the water. “Came for school. Stayed because you losers polluted the water with dead bodies and gross chemicals.”

“You go to school?”

“Hey, that’s discriminatory.”

“Oops! No, sorry! I meant-”

Danny waved her off, irritably separating a bottle cap from the crushed bottle. Seriously, what’s the point of putting the cap back on if you were going to throw it in the bay anyways?

“It’s fine. How else am I supposed to learn about the advancements made in the scientific industry otherwise?”

Even if Danny wasn’t too sure that science could sure stupidity, but a halfa could dream, right?

"So... do you just... listen in on lectures?"

Danny stared at her. "What else would I do in a class??"

"Oh. I just thought since you're dead and all, you'd do something more... fun?"

"I mean, I could terrorize the local villains for kicks, if that's what you meant."

Spoiler brightened. "Actually, yeah! That would be helpful! If Mr. Freeze keeps bringing the cold during my latte Thursdays, I'm gonna snap and wring his cold little chicken neck."

Danny snorted. "Alright. I will keep an eye out for this Mr. Freeze." Danny paused. "Hey, tell your friend to come down and help us."

"What- oh. Black Bat!" Stephanie waved her partner down. Black Bat gracefully slipped down towards the bay, casually knocking out two goons gunning for Spoiler.

'Careful,' Black Bat signed.

"Thanks!" Spoiler bounced on the heels of her feet. She swept an arm out. "Wanna help?"

Black Bat tilted her head and, after placing Danny under quick but thorough scrutiny, nodded.

'You can get the salvageable stuff. Anything you can't lift, leave to me.' Danny signed clumsily, placing emphasis on can't.

"You know sign language?"

"I'm not too good at it, I just learned this version."

He knew ghost-sign first, after all.

"Chop, chop. I don't have all night."

----

Danny learned that Black Bat had the skill to knock cans into their designated piles if he threw them in the air so she could kick at them.

"You two can come back anytime."

Spoiler whooped while Black Bat leaned back, smug.

"Wait, tell the litterer he owes me $200. He was short last time."

"...Are you telling me Batman owes you money?"

"Yeah. He might be in financial straights, so I gave him some lee-way."

Black Bat and Spoiler looked at each other.

----

"Hey, so guess what I learned about sea boy!"

Bruce's head swiveled to her with startling intensity. The rest of the clan tuned in.

"He knows sign language! Maybe he even knows ancient sign language! And goes to school, but since he's like, dead, he could only listen to the lectures."

"Bruce, Bruce, do not start a ghost-education plan. Stop. We don't even know if he even-" Dick tackled Bruce, who was already writing a petition as Bruce Wayne to give partial credit to students that diligently goes to class.

"Oh, yeah!" Stephanie shouted over the unraveling chaos. "He promised to fuck with our Rogues for a bit so we can get a break! And we also got a bunch of guns!"

"Where? Gimme!" Jason demanded.

"Do not give Todd more firearms!" Damian cut in.

"Also!" Stephanie grinned as Cass shook with laughter. "Batman's a debtor! He owes Phantom $200!"

"Ain't no fucking way." Tim cackled. "Hear that Bruce? That's karma! For not defending me when he called me broke!"

[cloudystevie]

scary my god you're divine

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

pairing || bucky barnes x f!reader

word count || 3235

summary || he would do anything for you.

warnings || smut! dom! bucky x sub! reader, possessive! bucky, a little bit of subspace, choking, little bit of exhibitionism kink, minor pain play, daddy kink (only three times okay i'm sorry i am who i am), degradation, unprotected sex

author's note || 18+ ONLY. not proofread yet. my very first request in a very long time! Anonymous asked: Could you write a Dombucky x Subreader? And if you wouldn't mind jealous!bucky, already established relationship and his dog tags on reader? hope you enjoy nonnie! as always feel free to send in requests or any asks! feel free to reblog! enjoy!

»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««

Today, a select few from the team are supposed to train the new agents, preparing them for the physical aspect of being an agent. Some made it fun or tolerable, like Steve and Sam, who were born leaders and charismatic. Natasha and Wanda enjoyed supervising the sparring sessions. Tony and Bruce enjoyed using technology to throw new obstacles at the agents.

Sometimes literally.

Unfortunately, your grumpy boyfriend, Bucky, just did not find any joy in training days. He didn’t like giving out instructions and praise unless it was you who was under him. He didn’t like supervising weak punches and miscalculated throws. And technology was just a straight-up no for him.

Usually, he could make himself useful with Steve, throwing out no-nonsense orders without making himself a massive part of the effort.

You were taking the elevator down to the gym floor. Fury had instructed you to check everything out and ensure everything went according to the itinerary. 

The doors open, and you glance around to ensure no immediate problems before letting your gaze fall on Bucky; his eyes are already on you. You offer him a bright smile, which he returns with a smirk, and your stomach flutters like it does every time you see him. You’re about 7 feet away from your boyfriend before you feel a hand on your lower back. You startle and turn around to face the newest agent. He has quickly climbed through all of SHIELD’s tests and proven himself to be of great value. He chatted you up last week at Tony’s charity ball, and you tried to let him down gently since you were already happily taken. Bucky was on a mission that day, and you didn’t want to add to his mental load by telling him about some punk who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Apparently, said punk, cannot take no for an answer.

“Back for more, cutie? You finally break up with your imaginary boyfriend?” Marcus teases, but really, he sounds more taunting than playful. You glance over your shoulder as you move away from his grip, and you already see Bucky glaring directly at the spot where Marcus’ hand was on your back. The stopwatch he was holding in his flesh hand shatters, and he doesn’t even flinch when Steve and Sam apologize for him, asking what was wrong as discreetly as they could but one glance over to where you were uncomfortably held hostage by the lean brunet man told them everything they needed to know. 

Bucky cracks his neck, rolling his shoulders up as he stalks towards you two. His looming presence is felt before you can see him in your peripheral vision. You glance up at him and take an instinctive step back toward his hulking body, breathing a sigh of relief because Marcus has to let up now.

He doesn’t.

“Oh hey, Sergeant Barnes, if you don’t mind I’m actually trying to talk to this chick so…” 

The way he talks about you as if you’re not right there makes you physically recoil. Bucky’s eyes harden; he’s not even squaring up to his full stature, and he already easily dwarfs Marcus. Bucky takes a step forward, and everyone in the room comes to a standstill. Everyone shuddering at the sheer anger rolling off of Bucky and the stupidity of Marcus.

Marcus huffs out a laugh. Maybe he gets a little pasty when he’s nervous because he seems to be digging himself a deeper hole when he says something about how many girls fall at his feet and Sarge, you've got to calm down. She’s not worth all that.

In an instant, Steve and Sam command everyone to return to their tasks, and the room begins to bustle again, but with a specific weary energy that was not there before. The very next second, Marcus is picked up by the collar of his black t-shirt and slammed against the wall, the room rattling with the force of it as all the recruits try to ignore the spectacle before them. 

“Touch her again, and I will kill you,” Bucky promises. “If you look at her, I will kill you. If you even think about her, I will fucking kill you. Understand?” His voice is a low grumble, the words resounding and reverberating as you watch Marcus sputter out panicked apologies and his flailing body while Bucky still looks so self-assured and composed. It's as if he’s not scaring a man to death while simultaneously making you drool.

You call out Bucky’s name, and he looks at you over his shoulder, pinning Marcus with one final glare and shove before letting him go as the agent does the walk of shame to the washroom. It’s almost like you’re frozen in your spot. You’ve seen Bucky get aggressive on missions before, but watching him be so willing to defend you, stand up for you when you couldn’t, not even hesitating for a second when he threatened to kill for you. And the worst part is, you were confident he was dead serious. 

Even worse, something about the principle of the situation was really doing it for you.

On the outside, it might have seemed like you were in shock or panic due to the agents’ actions, so Bucky whisked you away to a private interrogation room on the floor above the gym. The whole elevator ride there, his hand is protectively on your lower back, and you just watch the rigid set of his jaw and the anger and possessiveness written all over his features with unmistakable doe eyes. The air in the elevator is thick, and neither of you says a word. Before you know it, Bucky is easily lifting you and placing you on the metal table in the middle of the dull room, and his eyes are scanning yours for any hint of panic or if you’re upset. His hands cup your face gently, the cool vibranium soothing against your heated skin, and he finally breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta say something, baby. Are you okay? After this, that idiot’s going to be gone. I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you, sweetheart-” Your rushed words cut off his ramble, “I thought that was really hot.” You say quietly and watch as Bucky’s face contorts from one of worry to one of confusion. 

“The way you stood up for me, you were so nonchalant about killing for me. I can’t lie, James. That kind of did something for me.” You continue, biting your lip and scanning him for his reaction, hoping he didn’t take your words in the wrong way. 

He’s silent for a moment. His chest moving steadily with each breath against yours. 

The next moment, his lips are pressed against yours, and you let a surprised squeak out. Your mouth slots open when his wandering hands roughly squeeze your thigh through your satin pants, getting dangerously close to the heat pulsing between your thighs. Taking advantage of your open mouth, Bucky slips his tongue inside your mouth and you buck your hips to seek some friction against your needy core. The kiss is passionate and renders your breathless as he consumes all of your senses. All you can think, see, smell, hear, and feel is James. 

His name falls from your lips in a gasp, you reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, letting your head lull to the side when he peppers sloppy kisses all over your jaw, trailing down your neck and biting and licking on your sweet spot. You swat at his firm bicep, “You’re gonna leave a mark James, stop it.” Your attempt at scolding him is weak, even to your own ears.

You feel Bucky smirk against your sensitive neck, his wandering hands cupping your ass and shamelessly groping and swatting at you. “Oh really? That’s too bad baby. Gonna be a pain to cover up.” He remarks, voice dripping in cockiness.

You scoff and bite back a whimper when he grinds his undoubtedly hard length against your clothed center. Your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself by holding onto his shoulders, a shiver crawling up your spine when a particularly slow grind nudges your aching clit. “You’re such a bad influence you know that?” Your voice lacks any real conviction. Your hips move in tandem with his, both of you sharing messy kisses and your bodies thrumming with lust and pent up energy. 

“I’ll kill anyone who even thinks about looking at you.” Bucky says assuredly, and you can’t help the mewl that escapes your lips at his words. Your hands shakily going to undo his black jeans as he messily pulls yours pants down, being considerate enough not to rip them considering there was still a little more than an hour until the SHIELD training day was over. “Bucky I need you, need you to please-” Your voice is shaky and desperate, as you struggle to unbutton his jeans. He shushes you gently, cooing at you sweetly as he easily unbuttons his jeans, just enough for you to promptly pull out his erect cock. Your mouth practically waters at his length and girth, and you spit onto your hand and begin rubbing his length, swiping your thumb gently over the tip making him hiss and push his hips into your hand. 

You bite your lip and look up at him through hooded eyes, and he slaps your hand away before tearing your panties in half, the top half covering your swollen clit and the bottom scrap of fabric falling limply against the cool table. You barely have time to scold him for ripping your panties before he’s shoving his whole length inside you in one fluid thrust. Your back arches, your legs wrapping around his waist as your buddy erupts in a shiver, a short scream escaping your lips. He swallows the noise with his mouth pressed against yours as he grunts into your mouth, waiting only a short second before he begins to thrust inside you. His thrusts are slow but hard, making the heavy metal table scrape against the floor with the force of each pass of his hips into yours. 

“You’re mine, mine to touch. Mine to have. Mine to take care of.” Bucky grunts out, his movements picking up in pace as emotion swirls in his voice, his metal hand covering your neck, forcing you to stay upright in a position that allowed you to feel all of him. You sob out, digging your nails into his bicep and nodding your head, already succumbing to that foggy feeling you felt when you were so close to your boyfriend. He tuts at you, swatting your face with his flesh hand with enough force to make you moan out and clench around his length. 

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, you’re not going dumb on me that quick. Use your words, tell me you’re mine. Tell me I’m yours.” His voice is commanding and you force yourself to look at him, pulling on his shirt and tugging on his dog tugs to get him closer, your foreheads pressing against each other as his thrusts continue to get faster. “I’m yours James, only yours. You’re only mine. No one else. Just you.” Your words are slurred as he groans out a good girl in approval and decides that he wants your shirt off. He skillfully manages to slip your navy blue long-sleeve off and unhooks your bra in one motion, freeing your tits to the cold air of the room, forcing the buds into sensitive peaks which Bucky is quick to take advantage of. His hands squeeze and pull at your tits, tugging and pinching cruelly at your nipples making you whine. 

Your bodies are pressed so close to one another, each pull of his hips making his pelvis rub against your aching clit, stray tears streaming down your face and your chest heaving and pushed up against Bucky.

If anyone were to walk in right now the picture would be nothing short of debauched. You completely bare on the table, Bucky completely clothed. Getting absolutely plowed if the screech of the metal against the floor was anything to go by. Your moans get higher in pitch and volume making Bucky grunt, another swat to your cheek making your brain foggy. “Shut the fuck up slut. You want everyone to see you getting fucked like the bitch in heat you are?” But if your moans and increasing wetness are anything to go by, yes, a deep and dark part of you does want that. Bucky laughs at you, shaking his head in faux disbelief and you wrap your lips around his dog tags, enjoying the soothing sensation brought by the cool metal. Bucky looks down at your lips wrapped around the dog tags he never seemed to take off and he let out a wrecked sound. You clench around him at the sound making his rhythm falter.

Before you can even process the loss of his proximity, your back is flat against the table and his dog tags are now around your neck, landing on your chest and glimmering in the dull fluorescent lighting of the room. Bucky slams himself back inside of you, the unmistakable squelch of your wetness filling up the room alongside both of your noises of pleasure. Your high-pitched and pornographic mewls and his low grunts and deep groans. You cry out his name as your head lulls to the side, eyes shutting in bliss as your fingers move to give your aching clit some attention. But Bucky lets out a disappointed grunt, grabbing your jaw in his hand and forcing you to maintain eye contact. “Look away from me again and I won’t let you cum for a fucking week stupid baby.” Bucky threatens. “You better fucking pay attention to who’s fucking you dumb. No need to close your eyes and imagine when you’ve got the real thing right here.”

Each of his words ignites a newfound purpose in Bucky as he pounds into you impossibly harder, his hand swatting against your cheek again and wrapping around your neck, keeping you in place to take all of his thrusts. He knows you always struggle to keep your eyes open and you don’t doubt that he will follow through on his threat. He has always enjoyed testing your weakness and pushing your limits. 

“Feels s’good. You’re so big Jamie. S’big, so good s’too good.” Your words are breathy and frail, your fingers rubbing quick circles around your aching button. A mean laugh rumbles in his chest as he watches the way his dog tags move with your tits, the sight is intoxicating and fuels Bucky to continue his torment. “There she is my dumb little baby. Couldn’t help yourself huh? Can’t help the way your brain goes quiet when I have my dick inside you.” His words should be humiliating but they only spur you on, your fingers on the verge of cramping but the jolts of pleasure are so overwhelming you can’t stop. “Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.” 

“That’s it baby, I know, I know it feels so good huh. Daddy’s here baby, Daddy’s gonna take care of his needy baby.” Bucky’s head falls back on a moan when you clench around him, your walls pulsing and a ring of cream forming around the base of his cock. Your orgasm was surely just a few moments away and Bucky’s lips curled up in a smirk.

He folds your legs at the knee, sliding you closer to him with the pressure he has on your throat, the angle making him rub against your sweet spot with each deliriously pleasurable thrust. You squeal out his name, getting even louder than before and he shoves his dog tags into your mouth, muffling your garble out unintelligeble pleads to cum. With one hand Bucky squeezes your throat, and with the other he pinches at your nipples, tugging the sensitive flesh before trailing his hand down your body and slapping your hand away from your clit, he moves his lips down to your ears, licking up your earlobe before whispering his command, “Cum. Cum right fucking now or you don’t get to cum at all.” His fingers pinch your clit and the sudden burst of pain has you tensing your legs up, squealing out nonsense around the dog tags in your mouth and reaching your peak. Your body shakes against the table as Bucky pounds you through your high, his words of encouragement falling on deaf ears as you teeter between consciousness and unconsciouness. His body overwhelming your mind and soul. 

His fingers release your throat and you look up at him with watery eyes, bringing him down to rest your foreheads against each other as he nears his own high. Your lips are pressing against each other, “There isn’t a single person in the world I wouldn’t kill for you. I would do anything for you. You are everything to me.” Bucky murmurs in a pussy-drunk stupor. But the words are true, he has said them to you before and will say them a thousand times again. You taught him how to live again, not just survive. 

A broken cry falls from your lips from sensitivity and Bucky’s impassioned thrusts turn sloppy as he moans out your name, pulling you impossibly closer as he fills you with his cum. At the feeling of being completely stuffed by him, your second release is triggered and you shake in his hold as he comes down from his high. He presses lazy kisses against your lips and rubs his hands soothingly up and down your body, easing you out of your submissive state. He gently pulls himself out, using the handkerchief he carries around to wipe your thighs clean, but letting his cum keep your pussy messy. He quickly wipes himself off and helps you dress yourself. 

A few more giggly kisses and you’re pretty much ready to go back down to the gym. Just in time to catch the final thing on today’s agenda: sparring. Bucky walks one step behind you, his hand back again on your lower back protectively as a path is cleared to the front of the ring where your friends are supervising Marcus and another recruit preparing for the second round of their match. Natasha and Wanda offer you knowing smirks and you roll your eyes with heat creeping up cheeks as you shyly glance up at Bucky through your eyelashes to find him already looking at you with a stupid smile. He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek and watches with intent as Steve and Sam coach their respective agents. 

“Looking strong, Marcus!” Bucky calls out and you swat his chest making him laugh. Marcus takes one look at you, Bucky’s dog tags now around your neck and falling on your shirt, teeth imprints on your neck, and swollen lips. Poor Marcus falters, and the other recruit takes advantage of his distraction and easily tackles him to the ground, winning the second round. Bucky takes a single step closer to the ring where Sam is helping Marcus up, and the smirk on your arrogant boyfriend’s face is adorable. “Better luck next time buddy,” he says supportively. Sam flicks Bucky in the forehead, unable to hide the smile on his face, “Dumbass.”

[darkbluekies]

Intruder 2024 ver

Yandere!mafia OC x reader

Summary: finding a mystical USB in your bag leads to more danger you ever could have anticipated. It leads you straight into the arms of a well respected mob boss.

Warnings: gore, kidnapping, breaking in, chains, crime, yandere

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: I thought it could be fun to remake my first one-shot almost 2 years later to see how I have improved! I hope you like the new version♡

Your hands tear through the bag, impatiently looking for the lip balm that is somewhere in the mess of papers, water bottles, wallets and receipts. Your head is pounding, your back is sore and your fucking lips are dry and you can’t think of anything else. You grab the backpack and turn it upside down, shaking it violently until every little thing has fallen out. Receipts dingle down like snowflakes. The lip balm falls out on the wooden floor and when you bend down to take it, you notice that it’s lying beside something that you can swear that you have never seen before. A white USB. Confused, you turn it around, looking for some kind of indication to remind you of what it contains. No tape, no pen, nothing. You sigh and stand up. Before walking over to your computer to figure out what contains on the USB, you smother your lips in lip balm. It gets in your mouth, tasting buttery and putting a greasy layer on your front teeth.

You sit down in front of your computer, boot it up and press the USB into the right port. If you see what is on it, maybe you’ll remember what you have used it for. It takes a few moments before a file pops up at the bottom of your screen. You press on it and are met by multiple folders, all having cryptic titles.

When have I ever done this?

Is this a Friday night drunk act? It would be an answer to why you don’t remember anything about it. You decide to press on one of the folders. Pictures and videos. Hundreds of them. You click on the first picture. What meets your eyes puzzle you. For a few seconds you can’t even process what you are looking at. A mushy red sponge-looking … something. When it hits you that what you are looking at is a dead, mangled body you gasp and shoot your chair away from your desk. A wave of mixed fear, disgust and disbelief washes over you as millions of questions bash into your head. Panicked worries about where the USB came from, who was in the picture, how many more there are like this, why you have the USB and if you would get in trouble and. If you give the USB to the police, would they find you suspicious? Would they think that you had anything to do with this? And will the ones who owns this USB kill you for it?

You find yourself pacing back and forth in your room as your heart beats in your ears. What are you going to do? You have to get rid of it. Quickly.

You turn back to the computer and pull the USB out as quickly as if it was on fire. The grotesque picture disappears. You drop the white stick into your pocket, as if it was really in flames. Just holding it made you feel dirty. You wipe your hands on your shirt, expecting it to smear blood. Nauseous, you run to the bathroom. Despite washing your hands in water and soap until your heads become gnarly and sore, you feel as if you have murdered that poor girl yourself and nothing will clear you of what you have witnessed.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been in the bathroom, how long you’ve tried to wash yourself of sin and guilt. Suddenly, the front door’s lock seems to click. You freeze, listen closely. Perhaps it isn’t your door? You quickly find that it is, indeed, your front door creaking open. Quickly, you get into the bathtub and hide behind the curtain. Your entire body trembled.

“Little thing”, a deep voice sing-songs in what can only be interpreted as amusement. “I see that you have something that belongs to me.”

The voice is unfamiliar, which is only for the best. You’re able to locate him in your bedroom.

The click of a gun snapping in place makes you flinch against the ceramic tub. If he finds you, you will die.

“Don’t try to hide from me.” You can hear the evident smile in his voice. “I know that you are here somewhere. I saw you on that low resonate web cam of yours just ten minutes ago! I don’t have time to play hide and seek with you. The longer I have to look for you, the less fun it’ll be for you when I find you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, praying that all of this is a horrible nightmare. Your chest is burning with fear. All you want is to scream and cry, plead and beg for your pitiful little life.

“Little thing, I know that you saw some gruesome stuff on that USB”, he says, his voice now drenched in false pity. “Don’t you want to get rid of that horrible filth, hm? I can take it off your hands. Just come out and give it to me and I will spare your life. What do you say?”

A silence follows. An excruciating silence that makes you want to claw out of your own skin. You prepare yourself to see him ripping the curtain away and putting a bullet through your skull.

“Oh, would you look at that?” His voice appears again, back to the amusement. “A call from your mother? Let’s answer, shall we?”

Panic goes through your entire body as you realize that he has your phone — and, indirectly, your mother, in his hands. You can’t let your family be involved in this! The more people who know, the more people will be in danger and the harder it will be to get out of this mess.

You hurry out of the bathtub, out of the bathroom. You make your way down the corridor and storm into your bedroom. The man is tall with hair as dark as night and when he looks over his shoulder you can tell that his eyes, as well, are as dark as his ruthless soul. He’s standing in front of the same computer you watched the picture on — the same computer he claims he saw you through. He smiles at you, a triumphed ‘i told you so’ smile.

“Please don’t”, you beg. “Don’t answer the call. Please.”

He clicks away the phone call before throwing the phone on the bed. He turns to you. He’s wearing a black suit.

“There you are”, he smirks and tilts his head. “You look much better in person.”

With trembling fingers you fish the USB out of your pocket and throw it at his feet. He looks at it for a few seconds, appearing clueless.

“Take it!” you shriek. “Take it and leave me alone!”

The man scoffs out a surprised laugh and lifts his eyebrows before slowly bending down and picking it up. He looks at it for a few seconds and then at you, meeting your eyes. They’re surprisingly calm.

“Please, just take it and go.” Your voice is barely audible.

The man stays silent for a few seconds before opening his mouth again. “I don’t think I can.”

“W-What? I haven’t done anything, I don’t know how it ended up in my bag, I didn’t steal it. I don’t even know when or how I got it.”

The man seems amused by your rambling. As if he’s hearing a little kid try to reassure their innocence in a sandbox fight.

“I know that you haven’t done anything”, the man calmly answers. “My man’s incompetence of carrying an USB is not your fault. But you have seen what’s on it. You know what it is, don’t you?”

“No”, you lie and shake your head.

He scoffs. “I saw you on your webcam. I know that you understood what was on it. Do you think I can just let you off the hook and walk straight to the police? Now that you’ve seen me too?”

You are going to die. Holy shit.

“I-I won’t tell anyone!” you stutter and start to back away from him. “I will pretend that I have never seen anything. No one will know. Please.”

Before you have time to run, he grabs your arm and pulls you back to him. You scream and try to fight back, but he’s bigger, stronger. He slams his hand over your mouth, forces your back against his chest. You sob and shake your head, your pleas getting muffled by his hand.

“Don’t cry, pretty thing”, he says. “It doesn't suit you.”

With that said, he pulls you out of the apartment. You can feel the gun in his pocket poking your back. You have never been this scared before, and have no idea what your body will do when it is this panicked. To your surprise, it decides to black out.

For a few seconds you're sure that you have dreamt the worst nightmare in your life, until you open your eyes and find that you aren't in your bed. You aren't even in your apartment. Quick eyes search around. A bunker or a basement. Those are your best guesses. Blood, both dried and fresh, covers the cement walls. You hurry to look around your body to make sure that none of the blood belongs to you. For the moment you seem to be unharmed. But for how long? You have chains around your wrists, ankles and throat to keep you in place. Like a dog. You repeat your name, your background and family in your head, just to not go completely insane. Will you ever see them again?

You damn that little piece of plastic and metal, wish that it would self-destruct and ruin that man's life. Such a little thing got you in such big trouble.

A door creaks open above you and your man starts to walk down the stairs to the basement. He's wearing a black buttoned shirt. He has something in his hands.

“Awake now?” he says.

You don't answer. He strolls over to where you're sitting and crouches down. He reaches out for you, removing some hair from your forehead. You will bite his fingers off if he doesn't keep them to himself.

You glare at him. You wish that your eyes could penetrate his skin and pierce his ice cold heart.

“What's your name?” he asks.

“Why do you want to know?” you ask carefully.

“It might be so that you'll have to stay here with me for a while. Telling me your name will make it easier for me to talk to you.”

“What's your name, then?” you ask.

He smiles, and the smile is almost soft. He seems amused by your counter question.

“Silas”, he says. “Achilleos.”

The name rings a bell in your brain. You've heard his name before. On the news. He's a mob boss. Your eyes widen. You really have screwed yourself beyond belief.

“My name won't hurt you”, he smiles.

“It's not the name I'm scared of”, you mutter.

“And your name?”

You hesitate. You know better than to give your name to a literal mob boss, but you also know better than to lie to one.

“Y/N”, you whisper, hoping that he won't hear and that you won't have to repeat yourself.

Silas makes himself more comfortable on the cold, hard floor. He leans on his arm.

“I have to say that I am genuinely sorry for this”, he says. “I don't like pulling innocent people into something they don't have anything to do with. Especially this kind of shit. I have more important things to do. My man stupidly dropped the USB into your bag and now that you have seen what's on it and know who I am, I can't let you go.”

Maybe you shouldn't have asked for his name.

“Normally, I would have killed you”, he says. “But I think that I'm going to keep you for a little while. You interest me.”

You lift your heavy, chained hands and cover your face. Sobbing. Silas removes your hands and lifts your chin up with his index finger.

“Let's make a deal, shall we?” he asks. “I will not hurt you … if you do as I say.”

“So I can't go home again?”

“No, because the second you put that USB in your computer, and I got the notification that someone had opened it, you’ve belonged to me.”

Beyond screwed isn't even enough to describe what you are.

“So?” Silas says. “Do we have a deal?”

What choice do you even have? You nod shortly.

“Good”, Silas says.

He reveals what he had in his hands when walking down the stairs. A small yogurt packet and a spoon. The text on the packet isn't in English.

“I used to eat this when I was a kid”, he says and opens the lid, giving it to you. “I guess that you're hungry.”

You shovel it into your mouth. It tastes like strawberry and is smooth in texture. It's first after eating it all that you remember who gave it to you and perhaps that you shouldn't have eaten it.

“No, I haven't poisoned it”, Silas scoffs. “Didn't I just tell you that I have planned to keep you alive?”

“You could have lied”, you whisper.

He scoffs again as he starts to remove the chains. The weight drops off of you like angel light. Silas pulls you up on your feet, buy your knees buckle the second you try to put pressure on them. Silas catches you and lifts you up in his arms. He carries you up the stairs, to a hall, and then up another flight of stairs. Your body aches.

Silas walks into a bedroom, dressed in modern interior design. You're placed down on a king sized bed, tucked in under heavy blankets. The crinkle of chains makes you flinch. Silas lifts an identical cuff to the ones you wore five minutes ago.

“This is just to keep you here”, he explains and places it around your wrist. “Sleep now.”

With that said, he walks out and leaves you alone. The door closes. You tug at the chain, but it's obvious that you'll stay there. Too tired to cry, you sink down on the mattress. Too alert to fall asleep you stare up at the ceiling. A thought crosses your mind, quick and easy, buy loud enough for your heart to ache. You have to get out of here before it's too late.

[barbieaemond]

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

roomies | s.r. x gn!reader

“i don’t think he’s gonna agree.”

“he’s gonna agree cause he promised me at least once.”

derek and penelope bickered outside the dark wood of spencer reid’s apartment. the said promise was going to a bar with a majority of the team, gideon and hotch declining. jj and emily were already at their usual bar, derek was sulking due to being dragged into this side mission, already expecting a lengthy no.

penelope rapped her knuckles to the wood, “well tonight might be the night he surprises you.” her toes giving a slight bounce while waiting about ten seconds.

there was the sound of footsteps on the other side and the twisting of a lock. the door swung open all the way and insteade of the slender doctor reid greeting them, they stood in front of someone unknown.

“can i… help you?” you asked the two strangers on your doorstep. their faces showing clear confusion and curiosity.

the chubby blonde open and closed her mouth before asking, “does- does a spencer reid live here?” twisting her rings. penelope was positive this was spencer’s address, but she didn’t want to come off as a stalker or something.

your body shifted a bit, from kinda loose to now more concerned. “who’s asking?” eyeing them both skeptically.

derek took the moment to mess around. he pulled his badge from his jacket pocket and flashed it, with a straight and serious voice he said, “the fbi. we need to ask doctor reid some questions.”

you called over your shoulder, “spence! the fbi is here!” keeping them outside the threshold.

there was quick steps from inside that grew closer and over your shoulder, spencer popped into view. he stood beside you, “what are you guys doing here?”

you looked at him, “you know them, right?” fingers messing with the shiny knob. spencer quelled yours nerves with a shy smile, “they work with me at the bau.” your mouth shaped into an ‘o’ at the information.

“you gonna introduce us, boy wonder? being a rude house guest.” the blonde reached an arm out to wack at spencer’s bicep. you and the other man chuckled at her antics.

“this is penelope garcia, our analysis. and derek morgan works in the field with me.” you outstretched a welcoming hand, “i’m y/n, his roommate.”

derek was the first to shake hands, “pretty boy never told us he shared a space with anyone. you know, with his thing about germs.”

“i’ve know him since high school. moved here for college, so it worked out. he’s more open to it since we’ve known each other for a while.” shrugging off derek’s assumption.

“oh!” a yelp from the blonde, penelope, “you should join us for drinks tonight. maybe it’ll convince this one to join us.” she’s pointed a painted finger at spencer, “i’m cashing in your promise.”

you cocked a brow, “promise?” asked for anyone to answer. penelope did, “this one promised that he would come out with us once, well more like forced out if it’s been awhile. and it has, so it’s now the two of you we’re dragging along.” she clapped her hands together twice, “come on. the night isn’t long for us.”

you weren’t gonna force spencer out, but it did sound promising. “i could use a break…” mumbled out the side of your mouth. you looked at spencer who locked eyes with you, he twisted his mouth then sighed, relenting to his fate. “fine, fine. we’ll meet you there.”

“oh! this is gonna be so fun! i can’t wait to chat with you.” penelope reached in for an impulse hug, one you reciprocated after a moment pause. you chuckled, “same here.”

your two guest shortly left and spencer closed the door behind him. you turned to him with crossed arms over your chest and a playful pout to your lips, “kinda hurtful they didn’t know about me.”

spencer licked his lips with a bashful smirk, “wanted you to myself for a while.” cupping into your cheeks and pressing a soothing kiss to wash away your puckered lips. “best get ready, they can get impatient very fast.”

[satorusugurugurl]

Can you please make something like y/n losing her virginity to Gojo and when she wakes up she misunderstood that Gojo just wanted to have one night stand and as he never make contact with any of his one night stand, so y/n left writing some notes for him. But Gojo genuinely loved her and then he searched for her finding y/n passed out somewhere or finding her getting attacked by some cursed spirit.

🥹🥹

First Time

Summary: You lose your virginity to you friend and co-worker, the strongest sorcerer of the modern age; Gojo Satoru

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!R

Word Count: 5,848 (oops!)

Warning: loss of virginity, mentions of drinking, fingering, jerking off, oral sex, smut, fights, assault, choking (not the fun kind)

A/N: Well this, this was a lot of fun! 😂💚 I got super into it Nonnie!! Thank you! Enjoy!!

“No, absolutely not. That is a terrible idea.” your best friend and colleague looked you in the eyes, not once breaking contact.

“What do you mean it’s a bad idea? Do you think he has something?”

“Do you honestly think I would know if that man had any sexually transmitted diseases?”

“Well, you’re saying it’s a bad idea. So I was just curious as to why you think that is.”

Nanami let out an aggravated sigh, “I don't think I know it’s a bad idea. I went to high school with the man, for God's sake. He is a serial cherry popper.” your best friend took a sip of his beer, aching his head as he did.

“So he has some experience in doing so.”

You ran your finger over the rim of your margarita glass. You were ignoring the cold, judging eyes of your best friend. Nanami knew you had a crush on Gojo for the last few years. The two of you were constantly flirting with each other, and just recently, he had gotten a little more touchy-feely with you, rubbing your shoulders and brushing his hand against yours. He went as far as to kiss your cheek. Nanami knew what he was playing at. The blue-eyed menace was buttering you up; he saw you as his next target.

“It doesn’t matter if he has experience. If you’re looking for anyone with experience, you could always come to me,” he whispered. Thank God that you were a little too out of it to notice what he said. He was trying to make a point; you both were nothing more than friends. The point he was trying to make, though, was that if you were that desperate to lose your virginity, you could always rely on him. “Gojo is notorious for having one-night stands. He’ll get what he wants and be gone the next day.”

“Do you know that for a fact?” Frustration began to rise in your chest. “ or is that just part of the rumor train?”

Nanami wasn’t sure how to answer that. He hadn’t personally met any of Gojo’s past relationships. He did know that several women had claimed he had popped their cherries and left the next day. So, of course, he was nervous for you. Nanami could see the glittering glaze in your eyes whenever you looked at Gojo. You were so into him it was almost painful.

“Rumor train,” Nanami confessed, looking away and“Then it’s settled!” despite your best friend's warnings, you got up and headed straight to the bar where the Gojo Satoru stood.“Hey Gojo.”

Your colleague and massive crush turned to look down at you. His hair was a fluffy mess, his dark sunglasses shielded, his beautiful eyes from you., and he had a smile on his face that could give anyone cavities. You both had been flirting with each other nonstop for the last three months. You have been waiting to see if he would be the one to ask you to go home with him, but you were tired of waiting.

“Hey, sweetheart~ having fun?” He took a sip of his soda.

“I'd be having a lot more fun if you took me back to my place.”

Satoru choked, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he coughed into his fist. Regardless of his initial reaction, you could see the desire in his eyes. He wanted as bad as you. The constant flirting, lingering eye contact, and subtle touches had brought you both here. Were you, for the first time in your life, inviting a man to come back to your apartment to have sex?

Losing your virginity didn’t have to be special. You were fine as long as it was with somebody who knew what they were doing. From how Satoru acted, there was no doubt in your mind that he knew how to please a woman. It was your virginity, and you chose to give it to Gojo Satoru.

“Seriously? Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my entire life. So what do you say? Wanna come to my place?”

There had been no questions asked. Satoru grabbed your hand and led you out of the bar and back to your apartment. That’s how you found yourself being slammed against the elevator door, Satoru’s mouth eagerly moving against yours in a fiery kiss. His hands reached up, massaging your breasts, causing mewls pleasure to leave your mouth.

“Fuuuck, oh fuck.” Satoru growled, his lips pressed against yours eagerly in between each word. “You have the most perfect tits.” His tongue gently flicked over your bottom lip, and the second you opened it for him, his tongue was in your mouth, gently moving against yours.

The raw carnal need behind his caresses of your skin and the way his lips moved against yours had you dizzy. Never once in your life had you ever felt so desired. Satoru wanted, but no, it was more like he needed you. Knowing that had your panties soaking wet.

“Oh fuck, Toru.” As Satoru’s fingers slid under your shirt, trailing over your heated skin, you arched your back off the cold middle of the elevator. “T-Toru~”

“Fuck you’re so goddamn hot.” Lips latched onto your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there. “You taste like a fucking gourmet meal~, and that's just your skin.” he took your earlobe between his teeth, nipping on it. “Can't wait to taste that cunt. I bet she's already wet~.”

His long fingers slid under your bra, brushing over your hardened nipples, rubbing the sensitive buds. “I-I’m so wet, so fucking wet.” Satoru hummed in your ear, and one of his sinfully skilled hands trailed down, slipping into your pants. “Holy shit!” you cried out as his long fingers gently rubbed over your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck, you weren't kidding.” His fingers rub and tease your sensitive clit. “You’re soaked.” soaked was an understatement. Fisting his jacket, you bury your head in his shoulder as he trails his fingers lower, teasing your tight virgin entrance through your panties.

“F-Fuck, oh fuck.” Satoru pulls back, glancing down at you as the elevator reaches your floor.

“Your pussy is throbbing.”

“I need you, Satoru. Need you so bad it hurts.”

His soft pink lips find yours again in a searing kiss as he pulls his hand out of your pants. “Then take me home so I can take care of you.” Not needing to be told twice, you grab his wrist, dragging him to your apartment.

The second you're inside, Satoru kicks the door shut with his foot, hands locking it before they grab you. He is slamming you back into the wall of your entryway. His fingers make quick work of your shirt, unbuttoning it, tossing it to the side, his lips never once leaving yours, leaving you a breathless mess. He pulls back, giving you a chance to gulp down ark, as he pulls his shirt off, allowing you to run your hands down his toned abs.

“Bedroom?” he asks, lips attacking your neck as he lofts you off the ground.

Your legs wrap around him as he starts blindly moving forward. “First door on the left,” Satoru growls against your skin, turning right. “T-Toru, that's the bathroom, left!” The extremely sexy man grunts in response, making a swift left, nearly sending you tumbling over.

“Sor-” kiss, “sorry, I just can't wait to get inside of you.” The man you’ve had the biggest crush on for years tosses you onto your bed. Satoru doesn't even give you a chance to react; his hands unbutton your pants, yanking them down. “Fuck you smell so fucking good.”

He’s trailing kisses up your inner thighs, his teeth gently nipping at your skin. Skin that had never been touched by another person other than yourself. The sensation of his fingers, his lips, his teeth on you doing things you had only dreamed of him doing. It had you breathless.

“Satoru.” The man between your legs let out a hungry groan.

“I love hearing you say my name like that. Say it fucking more; I want to hear you scream my name.” his fingers hook under your underwear, yanking them to the side., allowing his tongue full access to your dripping cunt. “Say my fucking name.”

His warm tongue is on you before you can even process what he’s saying. His tongue laps at your entrance before slowly sliding up and down your lips, teasing your clit but not touching it yet. Being eaten out for the first time is like seeing God. Satoru is so skilled with his mouth that it has you digging your heels into the bed, toes curling, and your eyes rolling back.

Satoru hums against you, eyes brows furrowing as he seals his mouth around your dripping sex, sucking on it, teasing it with his tongue. His eyebrows knit in concentration, his eyes never once leaving your face. He is entranced with you and with your reactions. Satoru wants to make you cum; the man is determined to do so.

You didn’t stand a chance against him or his skilled tongue. The second he started flicking your clit with the tip, you lost all control. Reality seemed like it shattered into one million pieces as Satoru drove over the edge of your first orgasm with someone other than yourself. You buck up against his face, your head thrashes against your pillows, and you cum harder than you have in your entire life.

“Mmmphm, fuck.” Satoru growls from between your legs. “That’s it, baby, give it to me, give it all to me.” His tongue continues to lick and lap at your folds, making sure to leave not an inch of your unexplored with his mouth.

“T-Toru, oh fuck.” He had left you a pile of useless limbs. “N-Need you, want you inside of me.” you sit up, hands reaching for his pants, undoing the button. He sucks in a breath as your hand gently rubs over his hard, throbbing cock. “S-So thick, and it-it’s hard.”

“Yeah?” The smugness in his voice has you pressing your thighs together. “Wanna touch it~?”

Giving him a nod, you pull back, allowing him to lie down against the headboard. His breathtaking eyes never leave you, following your hand that slips under his boxers and pulls them down. His cock sprung up, bouncing as it stood straight in the air. The tip was a throbbing dark rosey color, the tip dribbling out pre-cum as it twitched in the cool air of your apartment. His hair is trimmed short, a happy trail leading from the v-line down to the base of his cock.

It draws you in like a siren calling sailors to the sea; you’re drawn to his cock. Your fingers try to wrap around it, but you can’t; he’s too thick. Satoru moans out in pleasure, feeling your warm, soft hand wrap around him. It’s so velvety and warm that your curiosity gets the better of you, urging you to stroke him up and down. You give in to the desire, jerking him off slowly.

“Fuuck, ooh fuck.” Satoru calls from above you, his thighs twitching, body shaking as you continue your movements. “Fuck sweetheart, feels so fuckin’ good.”

“I-I don't know what to do.” At the sound of your confession, Satoru chuckles.

“Want me to help you?” He watched as you bit down on your lip with a soft little ‘mhmm.’ “Alright, just follow my hand.” he wraps his larger, rougher hand around yours. “Here we go.”

Satoru drags his hand up and down his shaft, Allowing more pre-cum to dribble out of the tip, coating his shaft in the slick, sticky substance as makeshift lube. You know you should be paying attention to how his hand is moving. That way, you would know how he liked to be touched. But you can’t help but look at his face. His pale ivory skin is flushed, his lips are slightly parted as he whines, and his eyes are narrowed, focusing on your hand that is jerking him off with his.

Eroticism is not the way you would describe this; this was pure filthy porn for you. His face, the way he took his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on it, would forever be in your spank bank memory—his ab’s clenched and moved, and time with his deep raspy groans of pleasure. Satoru was losing himself in the pleasure of just your hand. You couldn’t wait to see the expression he made when he was inside of you.

“Sweetheart, fuck.” He groans, jaw twitching as he clenched his teeth together. “Fuuuck, your hand is so soft. If you keep it up, I’m gonna cum all over you.”

Hearing him say that, knowing that you could make the Gojo Satoru cum, you jerked your hand as fast as you fucking could. You swatted his hand away, taking complete control. Satoru threw his head back with a roar as you licked your bottom lip, focusing all your attention on how you were moving your wrist. Up and down, twisting and pulling it as he had shown you. Your free hand reaches down and his heavy balls, massaging him gently, urging him to spill his seed all over your hands.

His cock throbbed twice in your hand, and you thought for just a moment that he was about to cum for you. But before he could, his free hand swooped down and squeezed himself at the base of his cock, preventing himself from cumming all over your hand like you had wanted. His chest was heaving, and the flush on his face had spread the base of his neck down to his pectoral muscles.

Satoru swallows hard, wincing as you run your index finger over his slit, spreading the precum over his throbbing tip. “Why did you stop? Weren't you about to cum?” Strong hands grab your upper arms, flipping you so you’re the one underneath him.

“I was, but I would much rather cum inside of you.” those filthy words have your cunt drooling, your slick dripping down to the bed underneath you. “Is that okay~?”

“Yes, god, yes, please, please fuck me, Satoru.”

“Oh, you beg so nicely; how could I deny your request like that?” He slots his body between your thighs, and he rubs the head of his cock up and down your lips, smearing his pre-come over your clit. “Want me to grab a condom? I have one in my wallet.”

“No, I have an IUD.”

“Such a dirty, needy girl.” He presses the tip against your tight entrance. “You sure about this?”

He knew you were a virgin; you had mentioned it to him in passing in between your flirting the last few months. For him to take the time to ask you if you were okay with this made your heart sing. Nanami was wrong about him. Gojo wasn’t just going to up and leave; he genuinely seemed to care about you and what you wanted.

He was the perfect man to lose your virginity to.

“I'm positive.”

Hearing your consent, Satoru sighed in relief. “Awesome, just let me know if you need to stop.”

His cock gently pushes into you. You awaited the dreaded sharp, stinging pain you have been told about your entire life. But the pain never came. It was just a sensation of being full and some slight pressure. The unfamiliar sensation had you gripping Satoru’s biceps, digging your nails into his delicate ivory skin as you tried to adjust to the new feeling.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yeah, I just needed a second. It’s just a weird sensation.”

Satoru gently peppers kisses over your neck before meeting your lips once again. “Relax, I got you; I got you, baby.” Everything Satoru was doing for you had your muscles less tense as he pushed further inside of you. “You're taking me so well, such a good girl.”

“Satoruu~” your hands finally managed to leave his arms before wrapping around his neck, pulling him tighter against you.

“That's it, you’re gonna be good for me, right? Gonna let me bottom out inside that sweet tight cunt?”

You didn't even need to give him permission; his hips meet yours as he’s balls deep inside of you. You are breathing heavily against each other’s mouths. Your soft whimpering mixes in with his deep guttural groans.

“Tight, you're so tight, almost had me blowing my load like I was the virgin.” he pressed his mouth against yours and gave a soft, gentle kiss. “Are you okay?”

You nod, a wanton moan leaving your mouth as he begins grinding his hips into you and not entirely pulling out to thrust back in. But the simple grinding of his cock inside of your pussy, hitting your g-spot, made you squirm underneath him. Satoru repeats the grinding for a few minutes before his lips leave yours.

“I'm gonna start moving, okay?” Your little moans and nods were the only signs Gojo needed to see and hear to know he was ready to move. His poor little sweetheart hadn’t even been fucked thoroughly yet, and she already couldn’t find her voice. “Hey, if you need me to stop, just let me know.”

His hips move, gently pulling back before snapping forward, burying himself deep into your tight heat. He groans breathlessly, eyes shut tight as your walls clamp down on him. “Oooh fuuuck, fuck, you're so tight, so tight, baby.” he pulls out again, leaving you gasping before he immerses himself back into your cunt. “Fuck you feel that~ feel my cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy? Does that feel good for you, baby? Huh?” Satoru growls as he sets a gentle pace, gently fucking you into the bed.

“S-So good T-Toru, haaa haaah fuck you're twitching.” At the sound of your voice, Satoru’s cock twitched again, this time even harder, making you shudder at the knowledge you were making him feel this good.

“Of course, I’m twitching; you're so fucking wet and warm; it honestly feels like my dick is melting inside. So yeah, fuck, fuck,” his pace speeds up, “my dick is twitching inside of you because you feel so fucking good.”

Having sex felt so good! Having sex with Satoru, well damn, it was like heaven on earth. Well, you didn’t have anyone else to compare it to, but you knew that your first time was monumentally better than anyone else. He was so gentle, kind, and patient with you. You couldn’t think of anybody else that would be that sweet. God, he made you feel so good.

Your back arched off the mattress as you dug your nails into his back, climbing up his muscles with your nails. The pain dialed him up, pushing him to fuck you faster and deeper while trying to be as gentle as he could, knowing the fact that you were a virgin. He could only maintain his composure for so long thought.

“F-Fuck, ooooh fuck, fuck.” His cock is dragging against the spots deep inside of you that felt like pure pleasure every time he brushed against them. With each touch of those sweet spots, your wall hugged his cock, letting him know you were closer to your orgasm as much as he was. “Yeah, you like that baby? Like it when I fuck you like this? I popped your cherry, and now I’m fucking you into the mattress.” You’re so loud that your moans reverberate off the walls. “Yeah, you love it. You love my cock inside that pussy.”

“Y-Yeah! I love it!” A coil deep in your abdomen begins tightening and tightening. “I-I’m gonna cum!” eyes locking on with Satoru’s “Oh fuck, fuck I’m close, Toru!”

“Cum for me, milk my cock, sweetheart~ that's it~ that's a good girl~ yeah~” his thrust no longer has any rhythm; all that’s going on in his head is making you cum and filling you up.

Your orgasm hits you hard in the gut like a punch to the stomach. It’s not painful in the slightest. It is a pure, unfiltered pleasure. The kind pleasure that has you seeing white spots. You scream into the void as you squirt all over Satoru’s cock and the bed. The image of you cumming so hard sends Satoru tumbling over the edge right after you. He curses and grits his teeth before he latches his mouth into the crook of your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin, leaving marks for only him to see.

You’re a shaking, sweat-soaked mess by the time Satoru pulls off of you, falling onto his side next to you. His lips gently press against your cheek before finding your lips. They move against yours in a symphony of pleasure and pure bliss. Satoru spoons you, his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you flush against his naked form.

“You did so good.” His voice is so soft, lulling you to sleep. “Such a good girl~ thank you for letting me be your first.”

You hum, happily turning to kiss him on the lips before resting your head against your pillow. Slowly losing yourself in the warmth of his body against yours. “Thank you for making my first time so special.” His fingers gently graze over your skin as he breathes heavily against the nape of your neck.

“Mhmm, you're welcome. Get some rest, okay?”

You don’t even answer because you’re already sleeping. You dream the most peaceful, beautiful dreams. Ones where you, Satoru, have sex, go out on dates and enjoy each other’s company. God, you couldn’t wait to see you the next day took you. What did the future have in store for the two of you? More happy-go-lucky memories like this? If you could live through days like this, you would be the happiest woman in the entire world.

Dopamine and serotonin spread through your veins throughout the night while you sleep and find you in the early morning sunlight. You’re under the crisp, cool sheets that cradle your body. It’s when you move to turn to look at Satoru that you realize just how sore your body is. You hurt in places that you didn’t know were even possible to hurt.

All you needed was a nice hot shower with your extremely hot partner, and you should be all set to go. Rolling onto your side to look at him, your smile fades. Satoru isn't there.

You reach for the side of the bed he had fallen asleep in, trying to see if his lingering warmth was there. Hoping that if it did, maybe he was in the bathroom or the kitchen making you breakfast in the movies. But the crisp sheets under your hands are cold. He must have left hours ago.

Sitting up in bed, you reach for your cell phone on the nightstand next to you. Unlocking it, you search for a message Satoru may have sent you about why he would leave after such a perfect night. There is no message. No missed calls, no text messages. Nothing. He had slept with you, taking your virginity, and he left you with nothing.

Everything from the night before was perfect. You both had a great time, so why would he get up and leave without telling you? Even if he went to get breakfast for the two of you, he could have at least texted you to let you know that. Even when you pulled yourself out of bed with wobbly legs, you discovered he wasn’t even in your living room, let alone your apartment.

The truth hit you like a wrecking ball. Nanami had been right. He warned you. Your best friend warned you that Gojo was a serial cherry popper. You didn’t listen to him. You thought you knew him better, but the months of flirting back and forth, the late-night conversations on the phone, and the missions meant more than just one nightstand.

The hopes of there being any connection between the two of you left your apartment just like he did. You would never not listen to Nanami again; he was always looking out for you. Since you hadn't heeded his warning, you had to suffer with the heartache you had brought upon yourself. That Sunday, you cried yourself back to sleep curled into a ball and mourned your stupidity and the loss of a relationship that never even existed

The next day, you texted Yaga, letting him know you wouldn’t be coming to work for the next couple of days. You needed time to think about what you needed to do next. Gojo was your colleague and a man with whom you were forced to go on missions and teach the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers. Being around him would be challenging. If things had played out differently, and he didn’t just up and leave you alone in the apartment, maybe you wouldn’t have to be weighing your options.

The way you looked at it, you had two different choices. You could completely ignore Gojo when you return to work—keeping things strictly professional between you. Or you could ask to be transferred to Kyoto, where you would never have to see his face again.

You return to work on Wednesday, and the second you step through the school gates, Gojo stands there waiting for you. His hair was fluffed up as his blindfold was pulled over his eyes, but you could tell his gaze was locked on you.

“Hey, we need to talk.” He tried speaking to you, but you ignored him. “Sweetheart, please just listen to me.”

“I have work to do, excuse me.”

The entire day, Gojo kept bugging you and begging for you to stop to listen to what he had to say. Whatever excuses he had come up with, he could shove them up his ass. He had left you without any explanation at all. So he didn’t deserve your time of day.

You finally found some peace when he was forced to teach the first years for his class. As he left, he pleaded for you to set some time aside so that you could talk things out later. There was no way in hell you were going to sit there and listen to whatever bullshit excuse he came up with. You couldn’t, not when you had been told what kind of person he was, and against your better judgment, you went through with sleeping with him.

Before you could find yourself in another stupor, the door to your classroom opened, and Yaga stepped inside. The higher-ups had requested your assistance with a curse downtown. Specifically, they asked for both you and Gojo to assist. He was preoccupied with his students, so you decided this was easy to handle.

Instead of waiting to talk to him personally about taking on this mission on your own, you did exactly what he had done to you days prior: left without saying a word. You grabbed your shit and walked out the door; being courteous enough, you left a note behind on your desk. It also colorfully told him you had nothing to say about sleeping together.

Your words described how you thought he was different, how you had assumed there was more than just a one-night stand between you, but he had other ideas. At the end of your note, you wished him a long and happy life; there was nothing more to say after that. Writing that note allowed you to get all of your frustration, everything, off your chest without actually saying it to his face.

With the note behind you, you had one of the assistant supervisors drive you to the location of an abandoned building. Luckily, with the curse inside, you didn't have to lower a veil. This was, hopefully, going to be a simple in-and-out mission. At Least, you thought it would be.

Stepping inside the building, you automatically sensed the presence of the curse. One that was a grade four curse, making it super easy to take out. You honestly did it in record-breaking time, but it wasn’t the curse you had to worry about.

The curse user watching you the entire time you fought against his little monster charged you the instant his curse spirit dissipated. He pinned you to the ground, his hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing down on it. You choked, kicking your feet underneath him; your talisman paper was just out of reach; your fingers grazed over it, but you couldn’t grasp it. The man above you looked at you with dark black eyes, determined to kill you.

“I worked so hard to train that curse!” the man shouted as you gurgled on your saliva. “Then you come in here and just destroy it?! How are you any better than they are?!”

Your nails dug into the flesh of his hands, yanking and pulling at his fingers, trying to free yourself as your shoes slid against the dirty floor. Black spots began to appear in your vision; you were so close to passing out. Maybe you should have waited for Satoru. He may have been an asshole but at least he would’ve had your back.

“You sorcerers all deserve to die!”

Help me.

“Die and rot in hell when you belong!”

Please, someone, anyone!

“You deser—”

A flash of red floods the room as the man is sent flying through a wall, well, several walls, finally freeing you from his grip. You curl in on yourself, coughing and gulping down air. You don’t even have a chance to fully recover before you’re scooped up into arms, arms that had held you several nights before. Gojo says nothing as he carries you out of the room you had almost lost your life in.

Silence remains thick until he takes you outside and sits you on the concrete stairs leading to the alleyway. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” The urge to run away is as strong as your need to take deep breaths. There was no point in running now, especially after Gojo had saved your life.

He returned several minutes later, waving at the assistant supervisor's black car. His hands are shoved into his pockets as he watches the car turn the corner before he turns in your direction. His blindfold is still entirely on hiding his eyes from you. But just like this morning, you can feel his gaze locked solely on you.

“We got ten minutes before the cops show up.” You give him a thumbs up, winning a frustrated sigh back. “I got your note.”

“Good.” Your voice cracks as you try to clear your throat.

“No, it’s not good.” He snaps, stomping towards you, crouching down in front of you. “You honestly think I didn’t feel anything that night? That was just a one-night stand?”

“You left!” You cough roughly. “You left without a word, Gojo! What else am I supposed to think? To me, you leaving without a word is pretty plain and clear.”

A large hand cups your face, holding it gently. “Yaga called me in for an emergency. I was needed at the Kyoto school that morning.” You blinked back tears. “And I was going to call you, but I left my phone at the bar because I was so excited to be with you finally.” His head dropped forward with a heavy sigh. “But the more that I think about it, the more that’s like a shitty excuse. I should’ve woken you up before I left, but you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to. I should’ve known and done better. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

“Yeah, you should have asshole,” you sigh, “ at least you have another cherry under your belt.”

“I don’t just want you to be another girl in the notch of my belt!” His hand tightens around your face. “ I know I fucked up. I didn’t get to truly talk to you and tell you how I feel about you.” Your eyes met his. “This isn’t an ideal situation either, having just saved your life, and I almost killed that man.” He yanks his blindfold down, revealing his blue eyes to you. Eyes that are solely focused on you. “This is a terrible time to tell you that I love you; I love you so damn much.”

For the second time today, you find it hard to breathe. Your eyes widen in shock as Satoru stares at you, waiting for you to respond to his confession. If he had told you this several days ago before he had left without a word, you would’ve been over the moon. Now, you weren’t sure how to react. Part of you was still happy that he felt that way, but he left without a word; he should have handled things differently. That was in the past, though there was no point in crying over something that had already happened.

Deep inside your heart, you knew how you felt regardless of what had happened days before.

“I love you too, you idiot.” The white-haired man before you perks up, grinning wide. “But I’m still pissed off. You owe me big time for leaving me after popping my cherry dick.”

“Baby, I’ll do anything you ask, anything.” His hands are gripping yours, planting kisses against the back of them.

“I want you to take me on a date. A real date with food and dessert.”

He smiled softly, his dimple visible as he planted another kiss on your hand. “Dinner and dessert, I can handle that.” He helps you stand, ushering you forward, his hand in yours. “I could sweeten the deal. Maybe I could make you cum on my tongue all night? You don’t even have to worry about me. Just let me worship you if you want.” While his offer is tempting, you lean against him.

“Honestly, I’d rather go on a date and have mind-blowing sex like the other night, just without you leaving me.”

“I can do that too.”

Satoru is true to his word; he takes you to the nicest restaurant he knows. Buys you a bottle of champagne, orders a five-course meal, and every dessert on the menu. After your wonderful first date, he takes you back to his apartment and makes sweet love to you all night. He had you arching, gasping, and clawing at his back for the second time in your life.

The following day, you wake up finding him missing again. The bedroom door opens before you can grab your phone to see where he is. Satoru comes in with a massive tray of food. Mixed berries, coffee, pancakes, and eggs and bacon. He sits on the bed beside you, setting the tray between you.

“Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?” He offers you a steaming cup of coffee that you gladly take,

“I slept great.” You lean over kissing his lips softly.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe

[sexlapis]

actor! toji fushiguro thoughts 💭

actor toji would be one of those hot dilf actors that women would always be drooling over, edits of him always popping up on your fyp, the most outta pocket comments underneath all of his insta posts, he would be the number 1 dilf for all the old man fuckers.

toji rarely posts on social media. he’s at that age where he just does not care to post his whole life online, but that only attracts people to him more because he is so mysterious. he would have like 10 million followers and only follow 12 people (including you)

toji would probably be one of those actors that have no variety in their roles, but everybody would still eat it up anyways. toji as an actor would typically play a villain/antagonist or an anti-hero, typically in an action movie/series and he plays them well. toji can embody an intimidating, frightening, intelligent villain very well. he could be cast as one of the most horrendous, horrible villains and be a menace towards the main cast but because he looks like that, he is forgiven.

but there are those rare times toji is casted as a father or father figure and his character would do anything for their daughter and everyone just loses it. he plays the father role well, almost too well. he is so caring, protective and sweet towards the actress playing as his daughter, even behind the scene clips with one another, he is just so gentle and dreamy. the fans cannot handle it!

during interviews, toji can be charming. he cracks jokes and he answers questions honestly, even if they make him look unprofessional. he really does not give a fuck about that, which only makes him even more attractive. he’s a little sleazy sometimes, but that just adds to his lazy effortless appeal.

he just has such a dominant personality and not in a bad way either. like if an interviewer asked a question that made a cast member uncomfortable, he would smoothly change the subject and the mood, making everyone forget about it entirely. also, his stare is really intense…like when the interviewer or a fellow cast member is speaking, he makes sure to look at them and listen really closely, not even realising how intimidating that could be 😭

despite his unprofessional personality and wealthy background, people who work with toji cannot say anything bad about him. he is a great actor with great work ethic and is always respectful to his cast members. and most of all, he is humble. due to his background and accomplishments, other actors on set expect him to be all flashy and all head in the clouds, but toji isn’t like that. toji is very aware and down to earth and he doesn’t see himself as superior because of his wealth. he sees what that power does to some people (his family) and he wants nothing not do with it.

overall, for the most part, toji is a respected actor, with a loyal (albeit crazy) fanbase, he actually enjoys his job and lives a relatively private and quiet life. people barely know anything despite his wealth and fame and prefers to keep it that way.

a/n: this was inspired by jeffrey dean morgan lmao. also i’m thinking of maybe doing a mini one shot with actress reader x actor toji in the form of one of those youtube videos like “(reader) & toji fushiguro being a couple for 10 minutes straight” i think that would be fun 🤭🤭

edit: toji & reader being a couple for 10 minutes straight is here <3

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 3 GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 1

As you can see by the title (I need better ideas, you're all welcome to share yours), this is kinda part of "Danny, the Youg Justice member" but as something I have more of actual idea about. So while I encourage people adding their stuff to other snippets, please let this one be. I will be adding to it. It's even partially written :D

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 2

"Hey guys" Danny greeted clearly winded, phasing through the wall. Whole Team turned towards him, some giving him a side eye “Sorry I’m late” 

“You’re good, my dude” Wally answered, patting him on the back as soon as halfa landed, turning into his human form. They gave him a moment to catch his breath(just how fast he tried to fly there?) before grabbing their bags. Dick jumped and threw himself over the speedster's and halfa’s shoulders.

“Happy Harbour, we’re coming!” he yelled.

He fixed his grip when he caught Danny’s quick wince under the pressure as they left the headquarters. Judging by look on his face, Kaldur caught it too.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“There is an amusement park in city, so we’re going to enjoy our free time there” M’gann explained with excited smile “I can’t wait to see it, I heard it’s fun”

Artemis nodded with a grin.

“I bet I can win more plushies than all of you. No powers,” she demanded after a moment, slamming her hand n a random tree for better dramatic effect.

“Stakes?” he asked, competitive like always. While blonde shared her idea of ‘no locker room duties for a month’, Danny explained all the questions M’gann asked about what even bet was and what stakes meant. Dick was sure she knew the answers to all of them but he didn’t say anything. He was trained well enough to catch Conner listening intently, despite his clear effort to hide it.

It turned into a whole Team competition.

It was going to be an aster.

***

M’gann was having a blast. Everyone already had two to four plushies, stomach full of unhealthy food and manageable nausea from the roller coaster. Wally and Danny were throwing popcorn to each other's mouths, Robin challenged Conner and Artemis to the next game. It really was fun just like she was told!

It was much less fun when literal blast shot a few feets away from them. Ground where it hit was burned. Halfa squealed, projecting a strong wave of distress. Without second thought he threw his hood on and changed his posture, frantically looking for a hiding spot.

Few children started crying, their families scrambling to get away before attackers started shooting again and hurt them. Workers, already used to working in less than ideal circumstances, quickly, but without panic warranted by recognised villains or outright invasion, shut down reinforced blinds and probably walked out to inform someone. At least they didn’t have to worry about potential civilian casualties. 

“Do you know who they are?” M’gann asked, quickly establishing the Mindlink.

“Don’t worry about it” he answered, putting on crazy big sunglasses that Wally won some time before.

“My dude, we just got shot at. We have every right to worry”

“Calm down, Wally. I got shot at, you’re just close by. I’ll handle it” With a ruffle of his hair and a piece of popcorn thrown in his mouth,he turned around, just moment after the next blast almost caught his arm. He plastered a smile on his face.

“Hey, I’ve seen guns like these in laser tag! But I’ve never found them cheap enough to get without selling my kidney!” he yelled enthusiastically.

When the rest of them turned around, M’gann saw ten people in sunglasses and pristine white, holding guns straight from the mad scientist’s lab. THey stood still, projecting surprise bordering on shock. She could also feel hunter's happiness underneath it, intense enough that she considered breaking the ‘don’t mess with people’s brains’ rule. As a treat.

“Don’t worry guys, they won’t harm you. Act like you  don’t believe you’re in danger. Like they're a bunch of LARPers or something” It was easier said than done, especially when Danny, who nearly always underestimated the danger, was so terrified. 

“Who are they?!”

“Wally throw me a bit of popcorn, please” Halfa asked, ignoring Artemis almost yelling in their minds. In turn, he was ignored by the speedster. Three of the men turned to check something on weird sort of scanner. Danny's false smile went from cheerful to embarrassed. 

“Dang me and my poor communication skills” he said, loud enough for men to hear but not enough to sound like he was talking to them, before asking louder “I meant to ask, where have you brought it and how much does it cost?”

This seemed to actually shake men out of their shock. They got furious.

“You won't trick us this time, ghost scum” one of the guys with a scanner snarled. Danny pursed his lips in childish gesture of displeasure.

“Rude much” he muttered as if he wasn’t shining with terror like a lighthouse. Robin perked up as if something got him curious.

“Wait, ghost? What do–”

“What are you cosplaying?” Artemis blurted out. Men got visibly angry but Danny smirked.

“Don't antagonize them,” Kaldur commended. 

“If shit goes south I'll get you out of there, half a second flat” Wally offered.

“Thanks dude. Good job Artemis, they hate to be treated like a joke they are” halfa praised but out loud asking:

“Ghostbusters? No, they had different uniforms. But who else got a thing for ghosts?”

“Quit joking around, we caught you Phantom! You ran far from Amity Park but-”

“Who is Phantom?” Robin interrupted rudely (they deserved to be rude to them).

“Where is Amity Park, Utah? Cali?”  Conner asked, adding fuel to the fire of chaos with barely contained glee. He liked messing with anyone even slightly resembling Kadmus staff and these guys marked almost all of the boxes.

“Illinois” provided chubby man who looked and felt like he didn't want to be there almost as much as they teens did. Danny relaxed slightly.

“Agent W you have no clearance to share this information“

“You were in Illinois and didn't tell me, Tommy?” M’gann finally spoke, jokingly punching his arm.

“I wasn't, I swear! I've never set a foot outside of this state in my life!”

“Quit messing around, you freak!!!” the guy, with the biggest ego and probably the leader, screamed.

“Can I please mess their heads up?”  M’gann asked, pushing hope through Mindlink as hard as she could.

“Again, rude. What did I even do to deserve that?”

“Like you–”

“Operative K, I think they really don't know anything “ Agent W, the nicest out of the batch, interrupted “Maybe it left some ectoplasm on this boy to throw us off?”

“They called you it, Danny” Conner seethed, looking like only Kaldur’s hand on his shoulder was stopping him from punching all of them straight to the sun. M’gann was already reaching for their minds.

“We need to run a scan to be sure. Come here boy”

“Now, who are you?!” Robin got defensive, sliding to shield Danny from asiliants. Conner and Artemis joined him, so clearly furious that M’gann almost retreated from Mindlink. She wasn’t any calmer, it just felt overwhelming to be backed up by five other people.

“It’s classified”

Kaldur took a photo with an obnoxiously loud sound effect. Wally appeared right behind Danny, ready to evacuate him. Artemis barely kept herself from tackling the nearest ‘agent’ to the ground.

“What are you doing, boy?” Operative K splurted, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Calling the police”

“Why?”

“Robin, throw some laws, please”

“Oh, that’s easy,” the boy jumped in gleefully “You assaulted our friend and refused to state why you would have credentials to do so or even who are you. You carry modified weaponry openly in public and I doubt you have a permit, carelessly use it  against minors, endangering innocent bystanders while we’re at it. You disturb public peace. I think that’s enough to get you arrested. Wait you know what, call ‘Supervillain emergency hotline’ instead, this is serious attack”

“Right ahead of you, already calling them”

It wasn’t that big of a problem even if someone tried to qualify this as spam. Young Justice Team was first to respond to all threats in Happy Harbour anyway.

Danny let out a low ‘uuuu’ with a smirk. Someone powered up a gun. Wally slightly raised halfa of the ground, ready to bolt.

“It’s okay young man,” the nice agent started, raising his hands in a placating gesture “We’re searching for a dangerous supernatural entity and may have overreacted. In our defense, Phantom is known to be tricky and we wouldn’t be surprised if it used human disguise to hide from us. Your friend gives off the same type of energy like what we use to track it so we assumed they’re the same. We’re sorry”

“Agent W you don’t have clearance to disclose that to-”

“Operative K, after the last few incidents we have to be more throughout before jumping to assumptions. Agent Gamma wouldn’t be pleased if your temper caused the next scandal,” Agent W look at them again, with a forced ‘warm’ smile “We’re really sorry for bothering you. We have reasons to believe Phantom is somewhere around but don’t worry about it, we will be on the lookout. If you see it, please contact us and we will take care of it” M’gann grabbed the ‘WANTED’ poster from man’s outstretched hand. She barely restrained herself from doing something irresponsible, like turning every man in white into a brainless vegetable.

“Later M'gann”

“But Robin…” she whined before sending a small laugh so they knew she wasn’t serious. She knew that Conner and Danny were anxious about this use of her powers.

Agent’s left and everyone relaxed. Wally put Danny back down and leaned back, jokingly rolling back his arms as if he got tired. Halfa stopped with a loud thump to sit on the ground. He was paler than usual.

Artemis shouted, alarmed.

“That was way too close” he started, aiming for a cheerful tone but missing by a mile “I’m fine, just need a moment to cool down. Sorry for that, guys. I thought I lost them over Ohio”

“That’s fine, personally I don’t care, we knew better than to expect a whole day without something going wrong, but who were they?” Wally asked, already back to eating popcorn.

Danny sighed, so deeply M’gann felt it in her bones even though she didn’t try to read him.

“I think this is the talk we should have in the Mountain”

[mywritersmind]

Lando picking up drunk y/n from the club <3

CAREFUL -LN4

listen up : thanks for the request!! drunk!reader. that look of love. lando just being amazed at her.

word count : 915

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I got the call twenty minutes ago. I left my house nineteen minutes ago. I got here ten minutes ago and still can’t fucking find her.

Y/n called me, not unusual but odd for the time of night. When I answered all I could hear was her slurred words and music. She said something about me coming to the party and I came straight down.

I sigh in relief when I see the girl, her hair is a mess and she’s jumping up and down with her friends and some random guys on the dance floor. I push my way through the crowd and when I finally reach her, she grins wildly.

“Lan!” Her arms wrap around me and I hold her waist to stop her from falling. She’s wobbling on her heels when she faces me again, “You came! Drink time!” she goes to drink her own but is met with an empty cup.

“Hey… you wanna head home?” She frowns, her bottom lip gutting out.

“I wanna head to your-” she hiccups, “Home!”

When her hand meets my chest I suck in a breath. I look to her friends and they thank me, knowing I'm going to get her back safely.

We make it out with people yelling my name or guys hitting on Y/n. I’ve never been more relieved than when we get into my car.

She slumps across the middle console, looking up at me. Her eyes are the kind you could get lost in, and with her lip between her teeth and the sort of hazy gaze she’s giving me, I could really get lost.

I move my eyes away from her, reaching over and buckling Y/n in. She giggles when I push her over a bit so I can secure it.

“Lando!” Her window goes down, “Let’s make out!” I glance over to her, a small smirk on my face.

“Is that a yes?” She rests her head in her hands.

“That’s a no, but nice try.” she frowns again. I would happily oblige if the circumstances were different. The circumstances being if she were sober and actually felt like that for me out of her drunken mind.

“But we’re good!” She whines, putting her feet out the window now, “Soo good!” She leans her head back onto my arm like she’s remembering.

Maybe we had a bit of a makeout at a party some time ago. We were sober but drunk off my win and in the mood for something fun.

She pulls her feet back into the car, shivering a bit, “Tell me that when we’re sober, love.”

“Love…” She mimics my accent, “stop tricking me.”

“Tricking you?”

“Yes! You say ‘Love’“ she mocks me again, “and all I hear is ‘climb on top of me and suck my neck.” I let out a genuine laugh.

“Didn’t know I had that effect on you.” She sticks her tongue out, hearing my tone.

She unbuckles her seatbelt, her dress riding up and making me glue my eyes to the road. She turns her body, snaking her legs onto my lap and tilting her head out the window.

I eye her and am met with this look on her face.

Like she’s been waiting for me to look at her.

The wind is blowing her hair in all different directions, her lipstick is smudged, and she’s fucking glowing.

Her skin gleams under the moonlight, stretching her arms out of the window and leaning into the air more.

“Fuck.” I mumble under my breath, grabbing her thigh instinctively. My cool hand on her hot skin makes her squirm.

“Turn it up!” She yells at me and I do as I'm told. Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears comes through the speakers.

I can hear her wind blown laugh, her arms moving with the wind and then she starts singing… if you could even call it that. She’s screaming the words as I zip down the empty street.

“Something happens and I’m head over heels!” I join along, enjoying the view of her pure happiness.

She air drums which makes me laugh. I try to tell her to be careful but she can’t hear me, my hand tightens on her leg.

“Ahhh!” she screams out of joy, that same grin from earlier planted onto her face. Her eyes are closed, There’s glitter smudged around her eyes. It hits me in an instant how much I feel for her.

It’s ridiculous. How could one person be so beautiful? I reach over and pull her cheetah print dress down, she giggles. When she finally is back in the car, her hair is an absolute mess but the expression on her face is irresistible.

She looks at me once more, her legs still on me and her head against the closed window, “You’re really pretty.” It catches me off guard.

“Pretty?” I scoff a bit and she looks upset that I didn’t take the compliment so I look at her, my gaze softening, “Thank you, love.”

“Not going to say I'm pretty too?” She crosses her arms.

I laugh a bit, wiping my hand over my mouth, “You’re gorgeous, Y/n.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her frown wipe away instantly. It’s like she sobered up in seconds.

She looks to the road for once, trying to cover her face but I could never miss the blush that joins her freckles.

[piinksdoll]

→ [Bed Chem | Spencer Reid]

Pairing~ Spencer Reid x Singer!Reader

Genre~ fluff, very suggestive

Word Count~ 2.2k

Warnings~ sexual innuendos, spencer being an awkward cutie

a/n~ very fluffy and cute but also VERY suggestive, and I know some of the lyrics down match up with spence so pls dont hate me also I just used a photo of sab so dont hate me it was just to visualize!!! also NOT PROOFREAD!!!! also I added links to visualize for me people who are visual-izers lol k have fun!

part 1!! part 2!!

(Narrator POV)

Penelope had gathered everyone in her apartment for her usual get-together, but this time, she seemed particularly excited about something. She wouldn’t stop grinning, and none of the team could get a straight answer about what they were about to listen to. Spencer would rather be at home with you, since days that you're in Virginia are scarce, but you insisted he hang out with his friends. He sat in Penelope’s apartment excited for the night to be over so he could return home to you.

“Come on, Babygirl, spill it,” Derek said, giving her an exasperated look. “What’s this surprise? Is it a podcast? Audiobook? Something crime-related?”

“Oh, it's so much better than that!” Penelope said with a mischievous look in her eye. “It’s music! A new artist I’m obsessed with. Her name is Y/n Y/l/n and she's so amazing you’re going to love her! We’re listening to her new album Short n’ Sweet, she only has a performance out for Bed Chem so we’re going to start off with that!”

The fact that she had chosen your album had made Spencer uncharacteristically nervous, and now that Penelope was about to press play on a song about him, his unease was starting to become visible. Spencer stiffened beside Derek, his fingers nervously twitching at his sides. He knew this album very well. Penelope pressed play, and the first beats of ‘Bed Chem’ by you started filling the room. The sultry intro immediately set the tone, and Spencer swallowed hard. He could feel the heat rise in his cheeks. Of all the songs.

I was in a sheer dress the day that we met

We were both in a rush, we talked for a sec

Your friend hit me up so we could connect

And what are the odds? You sent me a text…

Emily raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Ooh, this sounds fun.” JJ nodded along, smiling. “It’s catchy.” But it wasn’t long before the lyrics kicked in, and as Spencer listened to the opening lyrics he recalled how you two met:

Flashback

(Y/n POV)

“Listen, I know I have all these things to do but I just need time ok? The album needs something, I am not at all ready for it to come out. It's literally all just sad, and there needs to be something else apart from it. Nat, please just a few more months and you can release it no matter what- oh my, i'm so sorry that was totally my fault!” I exclaimed seeing coffee spill all over the coat of the stranger in front of me. My phone fell on the ground  between us landing under the books that had slipped from his hand. I look up and am met with big brown eyes that look like chocolate I can just melt in.

The stranger in front of me gasped slightly, looking down at his now coffee-stained coat. "No, no, it's okay!" he reassured me, his voice soft but flustered as he knelt down to gather his fallen books. I crouched quickly, reaching for my phone that had landed just beneath one of his thick textbooks.

“I’m really sorry,” I said again, glancing up at him once again as our hands brushed while reaching for the same book. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I was struck by how gentle his expression was, despite the mess I had made.

He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that made my heart skip a beat. "Really, it's fine," he said, handing me the phone. "Accidents happen." I let out a small, relieved laugh, grateful he wasn’t upset. “I’ll buy you a new coat or at least pay for the dry cleaning. Seriously, I’m-”

“You don’t have to do that,” he interrupted, standing up and shaking his head. “It’s just coffee. I can clean it up.” I straightened, still feeling embarrassed. “At least let me buy you a coffee. You know, to replace the one I spilled.” I offered, hoping to make up for my clumsiness. He looked at me for a moment, considering it, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Alright. But only if you’ll let me grab a seat and hear why you’re so stressed out.” He motioned towards the phone I had been mid-conversation with when we collided. I blinked, surprised by his easy going nature. "Deal," I said, smiling cheekily up at him “But, uh... I didn’t catch your name.” He extended a hand. "Spencer. Spencer Reid."

I shook his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as I introduced myself. “Nice to meet you, Spencer. I'm Y/n.”

Flashback Over

And now the next thing I know, I'm like

Manifest that you're oversized

I digress, got me scrollin' like 

Out of breath, got me goin' like

Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent? Like

Ooh, maybe it's all in my head

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

Spencer’s stomach dropped as the next set of lyrics filled the room. Penelope was still humming along, enjoying the vibe of the song, completely oblivious to the growing nervousness inside of him.“‘Manifest that you're oversized... Out of breath, got me goin' like...’” Penelope sang along under her breath. She glanced over at Spencer and caught him staring at the floor, his body stiff. 

“Oh, this one’s so good! It’s got that flirty energy.” Derek laughed. “It’s catchy, for sure. I wonder who the song is about though?” He grinned, “Bet the dude is feelin’ pretty lucky.” Spencer's breath hitched as the chorus started

How you pick me up, pull me down, turn me 'round, oh, it just makes sense

How you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things, that's bed (bed) chem (chem) 

How you're lookin' at me, yeah, I know what that means and I'm obsessed 

Are you free next week? I'd bet we'd have really good

Spencer’s mind was racing as the sound of your voice fills the room. He knew everyone was at ease and him being stiff and sweating was putting a spotlight on him. Emily let out a low chuckle as the suggestive lyrics played. “This girl is something else. I don’t know who she’s singing about, but they must be good.” She raised an eyebrow, half-joking, but Spencer could feel his heart racing.

Come right on me I mean, camaraderie 

Said you're not in my timezone, but you wanna be 

Where art thou? Why not uponeth me? 

See it in my mind, let's fulfil the prophecy Ooh (ah) 

He takes in a sharp breath at the racy lyrics. His pulse quickened, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The team continued to listen, oblivious to the internal panic flooding his body. Each line felt more like a spotlight aimed directly at him. Derek let out a low whistle, eyebrows raising at the suggestive turn in the song. “Damn. This song is getting real interesting.” He laughed at Spencer’s uncomfortable state, completely unaware of the significance behind it.

JJ chuckled, swaying her head to the beat. “I love how bold she is! Whoever this song is about… they are very lucky.” Spencer’s hands gripped the edge of his seat, his face heating up. He could feel Emily’s eyes subtly watching him from across the room. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could endure this.

Who's the cute guy with the wide, brown eyes and the big bad, mmm, like? 

Ooh (ah) I know it sound a bit redundant 

But I bet we'd have really good bed chem

As the song ended Spencer let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding in, thankful that the song was over. “What's up, pretty boy? Couldn't handle a pretty girl singing bout bad things?” Derek teased him, throwing an arm around his shoulders, his grin wide. As he was about to respond his phone rang, Spencer’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when his phone buzzed on the table. The screen lit up with your name and contact photo, one of you smiling brightly. The entire team froze, their eyes slowly shifting from the phone to Spencer, then back to the phone.

Derek’s grin widened even more, his teasing now taking on a new level. “Well, well, well… Look who it is.” he said, still keeping his arm draped over Spencer’s shoulder. “Is this the mystery girl you've been so secretive about these past few months?” Penelope's eyes widened in excitement. “Oh my gosh, Spencer! Are you going to answer? You have to answer.” JJ leaned in closer, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “This explains a lot, actually,” she said, glancing from Spencer to the phone, Emily finished her sentence. “Especially that song.” Spencer shook his head trying to hide his blush as he answered the phone.

“Hey Y/n”

‘Hey lover, you havin fun?’

“Yeah, uh, the night took an interesting turn…”

‘Oh? How so?’

“Yeah, uh so Penelope invited us over and turns out it was a listening party… for your album…”

‘Oh- that hilarious oh my’

“Yeah and they just heard Bed Chem and they saw you called me…”

‘Oh my- HAHA thats so funny whattt’

“Yeah, they wanna meet you now.”

‘Well good because I've been wanting to meet them! Can you finally introduce us?’

“Alright well I guess it’s time. You're my person, I want you to meet my family.”

‘Well I can't wait. What about you invite them to my concert next weekend in DC and we can go to dinner afterwards?’

“Sounds perfect, like you, I'll see you at home I love you.”

‘Love you too. See ya lover’

Spencer returned to the group after hanging up, slipping his phone into his pocket. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but the warmth from your call still lingered on his face. As he sat down, the team was waiting for him, grins plastered across their faces, eyes twinkling with mischief. Derek was the first to break the silence, leaning in with a smirk. “So, pretty boy, you and Y/n Y/l/n, huh? Sounds like she’s got you all wrapped up in that album.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the others, who were clearly holding back their laughter. “I didn’t know we were having a listening party,” he mumbled, trying to divert the attention. “Didn’t know? Or didn’t plan on being exposed?” Emily teased, raising an eyebrow. Penelope gasped dramatically, clutching her heart. “I mean, Spencer Reid as a muse for a song about that? Honestly, I’m living for this.” Spencer’s face flushed deep red. “It’s not exactly like that-”

“Oh, come on, Spence!” JJ finally chimed in, laughing. “Even you have to admit it’s a little funny.” Spencer looked down at his hands, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay... maybe it’s a little funny.” The team erupted into laughter, the tension in the air easing as they continued to tease him, but in a much lighter, more affectionate way. “You really had us going there, man,” Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Didn’t expect you two.”

Spencer sighed, still smiling despite the embarrassment. “I didn’t expect it either... but, you know, I’m really lucky to have her.”

“And clearly, she’s lucky to have you, too,” Emily added, her teasing softening into something more sincere. “You two make a great pair.” Spencer looked up at her, grateful for her words. “Thanks, Emily.”

“She uh, invited all of you to her concert next week and dinner afterwards so you guys can finally meet.” A mix of excitement and nervousness in his voice. “She's been asking for a while but I've been nervous but she's really important to me. I really love her, you guys, and youre my family. It's time for you guys to meet.” He nodded sincerely. 

Penelope was the first to speak, “Oh my god, yes please I wasn’t able to get tickets that amazing! And I cannot wait to meet her!” Her voice was laced with excitement. JJ smiled brightly, nudging Spencer’s shoulder playfully. “Look at you! Having a secret girlfriend. I love it. I’m so happy for you, Spencer!” Emily beamed, her gaze softening. “You two sound like a perfect match. I can’t wait to meet her. It’s about time you brought someone special around.” Derek raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin forming on his lips. “So, what are you saying, Reid? Are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend or what? Does she have any friends for me?” Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “I am not setting you up, but I know you’ll love her. She’s the sweetest person ever. Just be nice, okay?” 

“I can’t make any promises,” Derek joked, chuckling. “Seriously, though,” Emily said, her tone turning more sincere. “We’re really happy for you, Spence. It’s great to see you so happy.” He nodded, his heart swelling with affection for you and gratitude for his friends. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”

The conversation continued, filled with excitement and anticipation for the upcoming concert. As the banter resumed, Spencer couldn’t shake the feeling of joy bubbling within him. He knew that sharing this part of his life with his team was important, and he couldn’t wait for you to meet the people who meant so much to him. Later that evening, as he headed home, he found himself smiling at the thought of seeing you. He couldn't wait to show you how much he cared about you and how much he wanted you to be a part of his world.