#let me know if you have any pride gif request!

[calebsmuse]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆���AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[anotherbummer]

ALASTOR + AROMANTIC PRIDE ↳ ASEXUAL PRIDE

[griffonsgrove]

omg hello!! I saw you post those vox headcanons and wow I was literally kicking my feet and giggling LOL. I also saw you take requests right now! (at least that’s what it said in your rules) and I wanted to request something : D

could I request general alastor headcanons with a GN! Reader please ? :D

Thank you!

General Dating Headcanons | Alastor

a/n: Of course my dear!! I love how Alastor is portrayed in the series, he’s easily one of my favorite characters! I’ve been wanting to do these for quite a bit, so thank you for the request!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Wordcount: 1991

Cw: Hazbin Spoilers, minor violence, mentions of death, murder

(PLATONIC):

Ah so you managed to capture the attention of the infamous Radio Demon? You should be honored he even considers you worth his time! Not most demons have that luxury, they never live long enough to see.

Al strikes me as the kind of guy who knows everyone, he’s very observant and has eyes everywhere (his shadow friends extend throughout the entirety of the pride ring). He’s got connections in just about anything. He’s bound to have at least seen you once.

That being said, he views other sinners as inferior to him, if you don't have any power, he doesn't really see you as much of a threat (let’s be honest even if you did, he still wouldn't feel threatened)

He’s quite intrigued when he sees a frail little thing like you walk through the hotel doors. You're here on your own free will, seeking redemption? Oh, this will be quite entertaining.

You’re well aware of who he is, having been in hell for quite some time, even before his 7 yearlong disappearance, you knew to be wary in his presence.

It often left you being timid or skittish around him at first.

The deer demon had a knack for popping up at the most inconvenient of times, out of nowhere it seems (perks of being able to shadow travel). He would scare the daylights out of you nearly every time. Whether it was intentional or not, it always got a good laugh out of him.

And that smile…He was always smiling, you can't ever recall a moment where he wasn't, not even a falter. It's definitely an intimidation tactic you think. After all, you're never fully dressed without one!~

Despite this, he’s a charmer. He has this flare about him that oozes confidence whenever he speaks with you, to anyone really. He’s able to talk his way into and out of anything. One of the many perks of being a showman. Alastor is witty, charming and entertaining to say the least. Life is never dull with him around.

And if you happen to be from the same time period?? It’ll only want him to be around you even more! Finally, someone he can relate to in this cesspool.

This man is quite the chatterbox. He looooves to reminisce about the good ol’ days, always talking about how things were in his radio days. He could talk for literal hours and not break a sweat. You’ll often have to politely interject when he rambles on for too long, not that he minds.

Did I mention he can cook too?? Really well, surprisingly. He claims he learned from his dearest mother. He had to put a name to her famous Jambalaya recipe! When you tried it for the first time your socks were nearly blown right off from how much cayenne pepper he put into it. He likes a little spice.

He's!! Always!! Humming!! The man loves to sing, he often finds himself absentmindedly humming old tunes from the 20’s as he goes about his day. Whether he’s out for a stroll, enjoying a nice cup of tea, or running around the hotel, he’s humming.

This has been stated before, but Alastor is not big on physical touch from others unless he's the one initiating it. There have been many times where he’s pulled you into a little dance or twirl while he explains something. It never fails to surprise you each time.

He’ll often use his microphone staff to push or touch something, more specifically someone. He doesn't like to touch sinners that often, God knows where they’ve been. You’ve seen him whack Angel upside the head with it before, the spider tried getting a little too close for comfort. But for you he’ll make an exception.

Very well groomed!! He puts a lot of effort into his appearance, and cares about how he projects himself to the public eye. His hair is always neatly styled to perfection, shoes shined, and is always dressed to the nines. I mean did you see how mad he got when Pentious ripped a part of his coat off?

As the two of you begin to spend some more time together, you find yourself often having little meetups, the both of you would chat, share a cup of tea and just enjoy each other’s company. He liked to sit on the patio, he had a little table, and everything set up for you two.

Alastor makes sure to keep an eye on you regularly. He may have his shadow sneak around and stalk you while you're out. He’ll use the excuse that ‘Hell is a dangerous place!’, He can't have some low-life sinner trying to harm you, that would make him a terrible friend!

Undeniably has a soft spot for you that he’ll never admit aloud, he genuinely enjoys your company and likes having someone around that will humor him and listen to his stories. Grandpa.

Overall, Al is quite a good friend to have, you feel like you can confide in him at any point, he’s surprisingly a wonderful listener. The more time you spend together only strengthens your little friendship. Even to the point where you both will grow to have a mutual respect for each other. He initially scared you at first, given his reputation, but underneath all the ruthless chaos is a true gentleman.

(ROMANTIC):

My man is sooo conflicted at first, He’ll spend hours in his den thinking about his feelings. (We’ve all seen the inside of his room, literally half of it is a swamp). The scenery can only soothe him so much as he contemplates on what to do.

This is probably where you will begin to less and less of him for a time being as he works out his inner turmoil.

But, once he finally comes to terms with these undeniable feelings, he decides to confront you privately, away from any prying eyes. Ahem Angel…

Very old-fashioned, this is where he will properly ask to court you. 

You’ll never know this but he was actually kind of nervous, he was worried you’d reject his offer, but imagine to his surprise when you said yes!! He kind of felt giddy.

Congratulations! You now have a cannibalistic deer overlord as your boyfriend

He’s such a gentleman, I literally cannot say it enough, the man was raised right and he respects you! 

You literally never have to open a door with him around. He holds your chair out for you, always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk, pays for every meal and is constantly giving you compliments left and right. And they say chivalry is dead.

Alastor loves to gift flowers to you. Every few weeks or so he’ll give you a new bouquet. They're different each time, some have a meaning while others he simply thought you’d enjoy. You have a special place in your room where you keep them.

Now that you’re in a relationship, the two of you are basically joined at the hip. Wherever you are, Alastor is not far behind. He doesn't want to admit it but the overlord is kind of clingy. He doesn't like being too far from you.

If there’s ever a reason he has to be away from you, he’ll often have a few of his little imp dolls watch after you. You always thought they were cute little fellas anyways.

The both of you aren't exactly private about your relationship, but at the same time you’re not screaming it out from the rooftops either. Alastor is well aware of the dangers you could possibly face due to his status. He’s made a lot of enemies in his time, and doesn't want to see you get hurt on his behalf.

That being said though, no demon in their right mind would try to threaten you.

God forbid they touch you either. They’d be ripped in half before they could even get another word out. 

He's fiercely protective over you. He tries to play it off as nonchalantly as possible, but you know he cares about you immensely, it’s rather sweet really.

Now about physical affection. Things will go very slowly in the beginning, as said before he's fine with things as long as he's the one initiating it. If you two are out for a stroll you’ll have your arm gently looped with his as you walk down the chipped sidewalks. You’ll have to be extremely patient with him, he’s not used to this “love” and “affection”

If you’re ever having a bad day however, he’ll slip out of his comfort zone for you, and allow you to hold onto him for as long as you please, in the privacy of your own room of course.

One of his favorite things to do with you, is to slow dance. There's something so intimate and special about it. It could be late into the evening, when everyone else had gone to their respective rooms for the night, If you listen closely though, you’ll hear the soft hum of music coming from Alastor’s den, he has you in his arms, the both of you gently sway in a slow waltz across the room to the quiet love songs emitting from his radio. It’s here that you truly savor these private moments with him.

Speaking of music, Al loves to sing to you. Oftentimes it may be a ballad or love song, and if you join in with him? He’ll fall for you even more. 

Cooking! He loves to whip up all his favorite dishes just for you, oftentimes you’ll help him in the kitchen, even if it’s the smallest thing. It's become an annual thing you two like to do together. He makes sure that you get only the best meat that this side of hell can provide.

He’ll often call you a mix of different pet names, here's a few of his favorites: Cher, Darling, Beloved, Dearest, Love, Mon Amour, Doll

Which btw on the topic of meat, Al is canonically a cannibal, he’ll often eat demon meat in his meals, and will have you try it at least once.

Admittedly has gotten slightly jealous of his own shadow. The mischievous thing was always trying to steal your attention away from him, oftentimes it would work, you would always give in and humor him, saying that ‘Even his shadow needed some loving too!’. With a strained smile, Alastor shoots a glare at the inky mass of himself, who just looks at him with a smug grin.

Will have you meet Rosie at least once. She’s one of his other closest friends, and a real sweetheart. At first she comes off as really scary and intimidating. but the more you get to know her, and she's for certain that you wont hurt her friend, she’s much more friendlier. 

You two actually bond together somewhat, having little chats about Alastor occasionally, or about her business.

It’s safe to say that this man would kill hundreds if not thousands for you. You have him wrapped around your little finger. If you ever have someone bothering you, they might as well already be dead, because this man will hunt them down like prey. And eat them too.

Honestly, Alastor as a lover is nothing short of wholesome. He’s so attentive and caring when it comes to you. Which is so refreshing to see, especially coming from one of hell’s most feared overlords. Things will most likely start of slow, but if you’re patient with him, all the hard work will be rewarded tenfold. He had initially thought the Princess of Hell’s Hotel was one of the biggest jokes of the century, but what he wasn't expecting was you to be one of the best things to come out of it. You both were cast down to suffer an eternal damnation in hell, but at least now you can endure it together <3.

[starcrossedmusings]

Mine

Pairing: Hongjoong x Actress!Reader WC: 2.5k Warnings: smut (sexual degradation [reader is referred to as whore, slut, and hole], manhandling, tiny bit of spit kink, hickeys/marking, unprotected sex, use of a vibrator, oral sex [m receiving], light dacryphilia, spanking), swearing, jealous Hongjoong, possessive Hongjoong, established relationship, "good girl", probably some more that I missed (let me know)

Synopsis: You are an actress starring in a new drama, and fans online have been going crazy for you and your on-screen partner. After a particular scene goes viral, your boyfriend Hongjoong decides he needs to remind you who you belong to.

A/N: Requested by anon. I hope you like it!

The scene had gone viral overnight--one moment the drama you had been starring in was on the verge of cancellation, and now you were signing on for another season while your twitter blew up. The fans of the show were all in agreement: the season finale tension between you and your co star has sent a swarm of butterflies in their stomach. You had immediately called your boyfriend, Hongjoong, who was finishing up his world tour when you found out.

Hongjoong had wanted to be happy for you, and for the most part he was. But there was a nagging feeling that took root in his chest when he had watched that episode that he has no idea how to shake. He hadn't quite been able to pinpoint exactly what it was until Seonghwa pointed it out to him. He had been sitting backstage waiting for his turn in the hair and makeup chair, and was scrolling through the ship name tag on twitter with a clenched jaw. Seonghwa chuckled at his friend, immediately noticing the tension rolling off of him.

"You've gotta stop looking at all that shit. It's fine to feel jealous, but what you're doing now is gonna give you an ulcer."

Hongjoong continued his scrolling much to Seonghwa's dismay and determined that he was not jealous. No...he was fucking feral. The way you looked up at your co star was a look that should be reserved for him and him alone, and the likelihood of things progressing with the new season meant he needed to find a way to come to terms that you might be kissing this man. He was white knuckling his phone by the time his name was called. He just needed to get through one more night.

The following evening, you were lounging on your couch, silk pajamas on and a tv show playing. You were mindlessly invested in your show when you heard a knock at your door. You furrowed your brow, not expecting anyone at this hour. You paused your tv, and the knocking sounded again, but much more intense. You pad over to the door and look through the peephole, gasping and throwing it open in shock.

"Joong?! What are you doing here?" You throw your arms around your boyfriend's neck, tears springing to your eyes. "You must be exhausted, I thought you weren't coming until tomorrow morning?"

Hongjoong chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I needed to see my gorgeous girl."

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, angel. Thats why I needed to see you--needed to do this." Hongjoong brings your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, tilts your head up, and kisses you deeply.

The kiss is intense--a clash of teeth as he surges forward. He pushes you back into your apartment and kicks the door shut behind him, not ever breaking the connection between his lips and yours. It leaves you breathless and dizzy, the fervor with which he's exploring your mouth with his own.

Hongjoong feels like his chest could explode at any moment as he teeters on the edge between wanting to explain himself and wanting to just take what he wants. But he forces himself to separate from you long enough to let you catch your breath. He plants rushed kisses down your jawline and neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He feels pride simmer hot and heavy in his veins as you sigh and tilt your head back to give him more access, your hands exploring the planes of his torso as he continues sucking at your neck. He chuckles as he feels your fingers slip under his t-shirt and trace along his skin.

"Did you miss touching me too, angel?"

The breath you loose from your nose is pointed, and he can tell his words are getting the desired effect. You nod, and he makes a tsking sound. "I need you to use your words."

"Yes," You breathe out almost instantly. Hongjoong smirks and starts kissing at your neck again, slowly walking you back towards your open bedroom door.

"Good girl. Missed how good you are for me" He mumbles into your neck, sucking a dark hickey into your pulse point.

"Fuck, Joong, easy! I have a shoot in a couple of days."

That sends his blood boiling. He pulls away from your neck, eyes dark and chest impossibly tight. He speaks lowly, maintaining eye contact.

"Worried your new boy toy will see?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, placing your hands on his chest as you halt your movement. You both stand on two separate sides of the threshold to your bedroom. "My what? What are you talking about?"

Hongjoong cocks his head, a dangerous glare taking over his gaze. "You know who I mean, angel. That asshole that has you so infatuated in your show. I've been looking at all the clips from your final episode. At the way you look at him. I'm not happy about it."

Realization washes over your gaze and he sees relief come flooding in. Wrong move.

"Oh you mean Christian? He's--"

Hongjoong grips your jaw roughly and forces your gaze to land on him, shock crossing your features at the harshness of his grip. He speaks with lethal quiet. "I don't want to hear you say his name. Ever." He steps closer to you, pressing his body against yours and gripping your hip harshly in his other hand. "Got it? You're mine. Nod if you understand."

He smirks as you nod, eyes all wide with shock and slightly glazed over. "There she is. Look at my good girl." He releases your jaw and smacks your ass firmly. "On the bed, angel. Hands and knees."

You turn and scramble over to your bed, planting your hands and knees firmly on the mattress. Hongjoong approaches behind you slowly, letting himself rake his gaze over your waiting form. He saunters to your bedside table, opening the drawer. He grabs your wand from the inside and smirks when he presses the button and finds it turns on. He quickly turns it off and turns to look at you.

"You left it on the highest setting?" He tuts, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and holding the head of the toy up to your lips. He brushes it across your lips and tilts his head. "Angel, have you been a little whore while I've been gone?" He can see the way your breath catches and the embarrassed flush that starts creeping up your neck.

When you don't answer him, he smacks your ass again and growls out, "Answer me." He relishes in the way you yelp.

"Yes. Yes I've been a whore."

He smiles sadistically and tilts your chin so you're forced to look at him. "Whose whore have you been, angel? Your co-star's?"

You shake your head frantically. Hongjoong takes the wand and runs it teasingly across your clothed pussy, barely putting pressure and keeping it turned off.

"Whose whore are you then, angel?"

You take a steadying breath before you answer, focusing on not bucking your hips to meet the head of the inactive vibrator. "Your whore, Hongjoong."

He smacks your ass again, dropping the toy onto the bed and beginning to tug his sweatpants down to his thighs. "Damn right you are. And I bet my whore missed sucking this perfect cock, didn't she?" He stands and turns to face you, thighs touching the edge of the bed as his half-hard length springs free. You nod and lick your lips, staring up at him through your lashes. He tugs your hair, bringing you closer to the base of his cock. "Suck."

With the way you swallow him down greedily, Hongjoong thinks it's a miracle he doesn't cum immediately. Your mouth is so fucking warm, and the sounds of your gagging and choking alone could make him finish on a good day. He grips your hair at the root and forces your head further down until he feels your nose brush against his pelvis. He throws his head back and hisses out from between his teeth.

"Fuck yes. I missed your mouth." He lowers his gaze to look as you struggle to breath, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. His chest aches at the sight. "Awe angel, look at you. Trying so hard to stuff all of this cock down your throat. Such a good hole for me."

He doesn't miss the way your thighs clench together.

"You like being a hole for me? Like letting me use you?" He thrusts his hips into your mouth and almost loses it when you gag, a tear running down your cheek. He pulls you back and looks down as you gasp for air, coughing slightly. A trail of your spit is still strung between the head of his cock and your bottom lip. He forces you to look up at him.

"Open."

You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out slightly. He pumps himself a couple of times, looking down as you wait patiently. He smacks the side of your face with his cock before spitting into your mouth.

"Swallow, whore."

He almost busts when you do without question, keeping your doe eyes locked on his fiery gaze. He pumps himself a couple more times, grabbing the vibrator and making his way to the other edge of the bed. He pulls your hips back into him, loving the way you squeal slightly. He pushes the flimsy material of your sleep pants and underwear down and runs a finger across your folds teasingly.

"You're soaked for me, angel. You really do love being a hole for me, don't you?"

You nod and whine, arching your ass back into him and savoring the way his cock brushes against you. You hear him turn the vibrator on, and gasp as he presses it firmly against your clit. The high setting sends you reeling almost instantly, and he harshly grips your hips to keep you in place.

"Whores take what they're given, angel. And right now, you're going to take everything I give, and you're going to thank me for it, aren't you?"

You cry out at the intense feeling building in your core, whining and sinking the upper part of your torso further into the mattress. "Yes oh god yes!"

Hongjoong smirks and runs a hand down your spine as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in torturously slowly, and groans when he sinks in to the hilt. He circles the vibrator in tight circles on your clit, watching as you shake and thrash below him. He grips your hair again, pulling harshly until your ear is in line with his lips.

"I'm going to fuck you now, angel. And you aren't going to cum until I say you can." He feels you clench around him and nips harshly at your neck. "Ah ah, none of that angel. I'm not going to move until I know you'll be a good slut for me."

The vibrator is still pressed against your clit, and it takes everything in you to still your hips long enough to give him what he wants. You whimper and nod, trying to focus your breathing. "I'll be so good for you. Please."

All of Hongjoong's restraint snaps, and he pushes you roughly into the mattress, setting a brutal pace. The snap of his hips has your whole body rocking back and forth, each thrust hitting that special spot deliciously. He keeps the vibrator firmly on your clit, and you quickly feel your legs begin to shake as pressure builds rapidly. You're a whimpering mess beneath him, and Hongjoong feels like he's on cloud nine as you begin to squirm and writhe. He grips the base of your neck with his free hand, throwing his head back and relishing in the way your pussy sucks him in greedily.

"So. Fucking. Perfect. For. Me." He punctuates each word with a thrust, taking out his anger from the past 48 hours on your abused hole. "Would your co star make you feel this good, angel?" He growls out.

You whine again, long and high, as your shake your head. The sound is muffled by the plush mattress, but the sentiment makes its way across perfectly. Hongjoong coos and mocks you. "No? Awe, angel, whose cock are you gonna fall apart on, hmm?"

The choked "yours" that flies from your mouth sends Hongjoong completely over the edge. He snaps his hips even harder into you, circling the vibrator and hissing as you clench onto him like a vice. "Thats right, this pussy is all mine, your orgasm is all mine. You. Are. Mine." His thrusts lose their rhythm briefly before he cums, groaning loudly and gripping your neck impossibly tight. He resumes his normal rhythm shortly after, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust. Your whole lower half is trembling and he continues fucking into you, whines and moans flowing freely from you.

"Gonna fuck all this cum back up into my pussy, angel. Take it."

"Joong I can't hold it anymore," you whimper, "please let me cum!"

He leans down, pressing his body into yours as he goes impossibly harder. "Does my whore want to come all over my cock?"

You throw your head back, arching and whining, "Yes! God yes please let me!"

He chuckles lowly and circles the vibrator again, sending shock waves across your core, "Go ahead then, whore. Let me hear how good I'm making you feel."

Your orgasm crashes over you violently, profanities mixed with Hongjoong's name ripping from your lips as your whole body shakes. The pleasure has you seeing stars, and it's almost like you can't breathe as it peaks. Hongjoong fucks you through the entire thing, growling lowly in your ear as he thrusts, "Fuck, you're squeezing me so good, angel. Thats it."

As your orgasm ebbs away, Hongjoong slows to a stop and removes the toy from your clit. Both of you are breathing heavily, and he kisses the back of your shoulder gently. He stays buried in you as you collapse onto your forearms and takes a moment to stare down at how wrecked you look. He swears to himself that you never look more perfect than you do in the afterglow. He runs a hand down your spine and removes himself from you, taking note as his cum spills out of you and down the inside of your thighs.

"Stay there, angel. I'll be right beck."

He breathlessly stands and moves to your attached bath, wetting a washcloth and returning to gently clean you up. He chuckles lightly as you jump when he brushes against your folds and teases, "Feeling sensitive?"

"Fuck off." You breath out. He laughs and tosses the washcloth to the floor, pulling you into him as he collapses beside you. He kisses the top of your head. "How are you feeling, angel?" He marvels as you turn to look at him, pupils blown out and his marks on your neck.

"I'm feeling like I should make you jealous more often." You joke.

He huffs a laugh through his nose and nuzzles into your neck.

You're going to be the death of him.

[reiderwriter]

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years. 

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even. 

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again. 

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces. 

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree. 

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.” 

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work. 

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man. 

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him. 

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition. 

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in. 

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later. 

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case. 

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest. 

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.” 

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms. 

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups. 

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands. 

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following. 

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-” 

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.” 

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed. 

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?” 

“Uncomfortable.” 

“Or at your breakfast bar?” 

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.” 

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well. 

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep. 

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave. 

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you. 

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard. 

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you. 

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer. 

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most. 

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon. 

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist. 

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together. 

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer. 

“Spencer, its 2pm.” 

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you. 

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.” 

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre. 

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.” 

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled. 

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet. 

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own. 

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong. 

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair. 

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that. 

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you. 

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.” 

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.” 

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.” 

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him. 

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen. 

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb. 

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself. 

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-” 

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.” 

“Laundry?” 

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.” 

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space. 

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?” 

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.” 

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face. 

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.” 

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?” 

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.” 

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors. 

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description. 

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives. 

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second. 

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you. 

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?” 

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support. 

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side. 

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears. 

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?” 

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest. 

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him. 

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile. 

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment. 

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did. 

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly. 

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-” 

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch. 

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.” 

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes. 

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-” 

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.” 

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet. 

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back. 

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out. 

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.” 

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you. 

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.” 

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways. 

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?” 

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-” 

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-” 

Your voice cracked again. 

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for. 

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness. 

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years. 

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-” 

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….” 

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time. 

“And you deserve a break.” 

“W-When we take breaks, people die.” 

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?” 

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess. 

“You all had reasons, I-” 

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.” 

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back. 

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream. 

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating. 

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there. 

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin. 

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you. 

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence. 

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly. 

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him. 

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.” 

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful. 

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever. 

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.” 

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him. 

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you. 

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another. 

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words. 

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head. 

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing. 

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you. 

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours. 

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again. 

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead. 

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you. 

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

[hanahaki270]

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.

・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader

・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb

♥︎

You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.

You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?

♥︎

-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.

-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.

-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.

-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.

-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.

-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.

-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)

-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?

-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.

-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.

“Sasuke?”

-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.

“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.

-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?

♥︎

[sailornymph]

i’d like to request general uchiha relationship headcanons? like relationship dynamics, how they’d treat you, whether or not they’d be into pda… stuff like that. thank you!!

‘SOMEONE LIKE YOU’

the uchiha men relationship hcs

cw : itachi’s death

authors note : my first two requests!! :)

♡ ︎madara uchiha

— this man is a handful, the overall madara experience is honestly

— he is attracted to your strength, then your face

— he is far from traditional, why follow what is known as the norm, when he isn’t a ordinary person

— he’s such a perfectionist, but he hides it behind his pride

— he’ll plan a really nice picnic thoroughly, from start to finish and if it doesn’t go to plan, just a little, he is mentally cursing himself

— he gets jealous easily, and isn’t shy about letting it be known. you allow a child to kiss your hand because of their admiration for you, he’s taking your hand back, wiping it, scoffing at the child

— you’re the first person he openly shares his plans with and if you’re a uchiha, he wants you to help him (to a certain extent)

— he is open to pda, but he is a respected leader, so it will be to a minimum. he’ll hold your hand, have an arm around you, even hug you, but that’s it

— he doesn’t really listen to what you’re talking to him about, but it’s because his mind is so focused on the clan and it’s future. when you get upset about him not listening, giving him the silent treatment, he gets upset and demands you retell him everything swearing that he will listen this time

— leading up to his death, he will make sure you are far from danger, allowing you to live the rest of your life safely

— 8/10. he seems dangerously wild and reckless to many, but in the midst of his chaos, he is always thinking of you, keeping your safety in mind, if you would like something, how you would feel, etc.

“where will we go?” you asked, gently combing through madara’s long thick hair.

“you don’t worry about any of it, i will take care of it and make sure you are someplace safe-

“i want to stay and fight alongside the others,” you admitted, making him look back at you.

“i won’t let you, many of them will die in battle, i will not lose you too,” his face hardening, but regardless, he faced forward, allowing you to continue combing.

“you won’t lose me”

“i know, because you will be far away from here, somewhere safe”

“madara”

“do not argue with me on this, please, i’ve thought over this too many times, you will not fight,” he raised his voice, but quickly stopped himself, shaking his leg, his way of calming his nerves.

“will you fight then?”

“i will come back to you,” he indirectly answered.

“and you don’t have another solution?”

“i’m afraid war is the best answer,” he said, pausing, examining you through the mirror, as you combed his hair. you didn’t want to throw your entire life away, you loved the clan so much, but your love for him outweighed the clan, you would go anywhere with madara, even he knew this.

“i am sorry, darling, if i could have known another way, then i would chose it for your sake, but i don’t, i will get revenge on all of them”

“i trust you, i’m worried, but i know you’ll protect me”

“i wish i could have given you a life without war and violence, if i didn’t make it back to you, you unfortunately have my blessing to move o-

“i couldn’t dare be with another, after experiencing you, i only want you, not someone like you. there isn’t a man i know as strong as you, who cares so deeply for the wellbeing of his clan or family,” you said, making him smirk.

“i am amazing, aren’t i?” he snickered.

“yes, so you better come back to me, promise me”

“i promise,” he turned kissing your lips, intertwining your pinkies. he would come back to you, and begin the next stage of his plan and he would spend every moment with you.

♡ itachi uchiha

— to be with this man, you will be find the most precious love, but you have embraced pain and suffering, because that is what you will be rewarded in the end

— he may be a mass murder, but he’s a gentleman to you lol

— he is quiet and very observant, and attempts to be traditional with you, but he isn’t living a traditional lifestyle, so he’ll eventually go with the flow, simply stopping by whenever he is free in between missions

— he isn’t the jealous type, but is protective. he had no intentions of dating, until after meeting you, he is very aware of your attractiveness. he could care less about strangers fawning over you, it is when it begins to become uncomfortable for you that he will intervene

— he’s a criminal so no regular couple activities, but sometimes you’ll make dango together and share them, or he’ll surprise you with breakfast

— he isn’t into pda, but he doesn’t mind having his arms around you, when it’s cold, putting his cloak on your body, or even kissing your hand (if no one is around)

— he listens to you and is very engaged during any conversation with you. he will ask questions and make small comments

— he secretly likes when you are doting on him, especially when he doesn’t feel well

— feeding him soup, placing a cool cloth on his head, helping him around your house, washing his hair, you’re the only person who has ever gotten to see him in such an intimate way

— your last memories with him, he will make sure they are nothing short of sweet, waking before you, surprising you with breakfast, ending the night with a soul crushing hug and kiss. his heart breaking even more, wondering and wishing how your lives would have been if things didn’t end up this way for him

— 8.9/10. other than the lack of normalcy and how he went and let his brother kill him, taking him away forever. he is far from perfect, but he is gentle and vulnerable always and everything he does for or to you, you will be able to see the love being poured into it

“did you enjoy today?” itachi asked, that peaceful smile appearing on his face.

“i did, but i always do,” you told him, as he wrapped his arms around you.

“i love you,” he blurted out.

“i love you too, tachi,” you grinned.

“i never thought i would never love again, after the things these hands have done, to my village, my clan, my parents, my brother-

“stop it, you were a child-

“i was apart of the anbu-

“following orders given to you by your superiors, you sacrificed yourself for them, you did what many could never bring themselves to do,” you told him, beginning to raise your voice.

“alright love, i hear you,” he smiled.

“good, i hate when you talk like that, even if the world hates you for what you’ve done. i love you for what you are,” you told him.

“i have only one regret-

“itachi”

“that i didn’t meet you sooner, or that i wasn’t born in a different village, so that we could have met long ago,” he sighed, reaching for your hand, bringing your fingers to his lips.

“but you have me now, and that’s all that matters,” you reassured him, your smile faltering seeing the sadness in his eyes.

“my baby brother, sasuke, he has grown strong enough to avenge them all,” itachi said, staring at you with a unfamiliar, distant look.

“what are you saying?”

“how did i get so fortunate to meet someone like you,” he said, ignoring your question, reaching to hold your face.

“itachi”

“i don’t think i could ever forget your blissful touch, so determined to make the headaches and fevers go away, and for a time, they did,” he began to wipe away your tears, not allowing them to fully run down your face.

“you're not going to die, stop talking like this, i don't want to hear it,” you said, but he only smiled.

“i'm sorry, my love, could i just hold you tonight? no more talking, just us, and our love” he asked. biting back your tears, you nodded, as he kissed your lips, for the final time, wrapping his arms around you. this would be his last moment with you, before his death.

♡ indra ōtsutsuki

— so sorry for you if it is an arranged marriage because this man will treat you like garbage and not care about how you feel, at all!

— but for the sake of the need for happiness, let’s say he actually fell in love with someone

— he is the type to fall hard, he wasn’t looking for love at all, when you somehow managed to catch his eye, he can't get you out of his head

— he is very lowkey and secretive, so no one else finds out until asura catches him sneaking off from training to surprise you with flowers. he tells their father and when he is back home, he has to hear an earful about keeps something like this a secret

— very obviously old fashioned and leans heavily into society norms, as his partner, your role is to take care of the home-life, especially since you most likely are nowhere as strong as he is

— he is very jealous hearted, however, thankfully, he won’t direct it to you. asura keeps trying to be a little too nice for his liking, he’ll make sure to be rougher than usual, during training. the other men in the village are basically eye fucking you, it’s okay, just know they will disappear only to reappear someplace random, with a nasty bruise or two

— he doesn’t listen but tries to make up for it. you wanted a purple kimono with white flowers on it for your birthday, all he heard was kimono and will gift you a red one with a dragon on it and proceeds to be genuinely confused by your frowning

— once the relationship is no longer a secret, he will always have his hand on your lower back

— he yearns for your comfort and affection. he is stuck with these feelings of rejection, but you are always there to remind him of his worth

— 7.7/10. he may be a menace to many other people, but to you, other than human flaws, he loves so passionately.

“indra…what happened?” your heart sank at the sight.

“don’t look, turn around,” he said. his closest friends, both of them laid dead.

hesitantly, you turned your back to the scene, your breathing becoming rugged, as he wrapped his arms around your body.

“walk forward,” he muttered. he didn’t want you to see what was here. what he had done. to them, his friends since he was a child.

“indra-

“with immense stress and sadness, i’ve found that the sharingan will evolve,” he said, making you turn, facing him. his usual red eyes transformed into a newer version, tears pouring down his face.

“what did you do?” you asked, beginning to choke on your tears, as you held his face.

“i’m stronger than him, why am i not worthy? i helped those stupid people and it wasn’t enough to please father,” he said, the rage seeping from his aura.

“just because he can’t see your worth, doesn’t take away from who you are. you can still teach many people to learn and walk in your ways, indra,” you told him.

“what could you possibly see in someone like me?” he asked bitterly.

“how could i not be so in love with someone like you,” you countered.

“indra, what have you done?” asura and his father approached, making him glare in their direction.

“as many times as i am reincarnated, i will be sure to always find you again,” he said, about to face his brother.

“indra, don’t-

“wait for me, each time, i will always come for you,” he kissed your lips, his susanoo picking you up, tossing you into the nearby wheat fields. getting up to run towards the battle, a few villagers grabbed you, holding you back.

all you could do was cry, they had brought him to this point, it was all of their fault. you would wait for him and be there when he finally got the recognition he deserved.

♡ obito uchiha

— he’s not my favorite, but he is probably the best

— he feels broken, but for you to come along and fall in love with him, he will do everything in his power to not lose you

— you have been around him as tobi and you were amazed by the switch, suddenly he’s goofy and making joke after joke, although, you prefer plain old obito because you love his authentic self

— when it is just the two of you, he’s calm and a bit too serious, but he is very attentive. nothing you say or do goes unseen. from your favorite color to the name of your worst enemy, even if he isn’t responding he’s listening

— extremely jealous, but hides it very well, for your sake. you’re out shopping, he’s dressed as tobi, and the shop owner is staring, occasionally complimenting you too much. he’ll laugh about it as tobi, but come back later to slaughter them

— he is constantly thinking of ways to be romantic, asking konan to teach him origami, picking flowers, trying to learn recipes

— he feels love is rare to come by and the fact that he has found that cares for him genuinely, he wants to make you happy

— it is rare to be with tobi, but if you’re with him, he’ll say something like “lookie here, my angel,” spinning you around or any kind of pda. obito is a bit more hesitant, other than holding your hand or waist

— even in his final moments, his mind will drift to you, you are somewhere far away, safe, and he can’t help but wonder would you be proud of him for doing the right thing in the end

— 9.6/10. a love as pure as this is hard to come by. he loves so deeply and passionately, in the end, he hopes you would forgive him for the evils he has committed and simply remember all of his genuine love

reading a book, you could hear tobi’s goofy voice, making you place the bookmark inside. he was talking to someone. finally, as the the footsteps began to become distant, you sat up.

“hey,” you said shyly, going to stand up, staring at his disguise.

“hey,” he said, as the mask was pulled from his face, as you approached.

pressing his lips against your own, you hummed, breaking the kiss.

“let me look at you,” you smiled, staring at his face, before he covered his face with your hands.

“you don’t want to look at someone like me”

“i actually want nothing more than to look at someone like you, so handsome, such a good boy”

“i haven’t been a good boy, all the chaos-

“for me you have, and that’s all that matters to me,” you smiled, pecking his lips again, before placing a kiss on each of his eyes.

perhaps there was a mistake, he didn’t understand how he of all people ended up with such a beautiful partner, inside and out — but he would love you the best he could, for as long as he could.

♡ sasuke uchiha

— he is very interesting. if you’ve been together since teenagers, he stressed you the hell out and was super nonchalant about it

— if you managed to still be together after everything, then you will get to see firsthand, sasuke trying to unlearn old habits and try to understand how he can love you the way you deserve

— however, if you begin dating sasuke while he has the other emo haircut, then you are experiencing an entirely different person. when his old classmates told you about the things he did, you couldn't even believe them, until he told you it was all true

— sasuke is quiet, a bit awkward at times, but not shy. he will come across as a bit traditional

— he still struggles with being jealous, but not as easily nor as much as when you both were younger. back then, any guy who talked to you for too long was getting threatened by him, now he can't help but be a little upset at your coworkers who get more time with you

— he is terrible with all the new technology, all of the younger kids are using, so expect old fashion, but romantic advances

— writing you small notes, sending you flowers, walking you home from dates kind of man

— he cannot bring himself to do any pda, not even holding hands, the most he can do is walk close to you

— he’s always halfway listening, he gets stuck in his head at times, while nodding at your words. if he were to take you out on a date, he will randomly remember something you said and he will bring it up

— he struggles with communication badly and seems almost childlike with an anxious expression, as he struggles to find the words to say to you

— he feels embarrassed telling you how much you mean to him, so he’ll get you something instead. you didn’t think he was listening when you told him about your favorite fragrance, so he went and bought it, as a surprise

— 9.3/10. he’s trying his best. trying to redeem himself, all while fixing his relationship with you. he still has many things to work on, like his inability to communicate, but your history together, along with the changes he has made, how could you not love that face?

“did you enjoy tonight?” sasuke asked, as your shoulder brushed against his own.

“i did,” you smiled.

“good,” he hummed, before the two of you went back to a comfortable silence.

“sasuke,” a voice called out that you immediately recognized.

“naruto,” he nodded, as the hokage and his wife approached.

“you're back in town and didn't stop by?” naruto grumbled.

“i am spending time with y/n,” he said, making the couple's eyes shift to you.

“y/n? how are you? i haven't seen you in a while,” naruto smiled, as you politely bowed.

“how are you two-

“i need to get y/n to her house, she has work in the morning,” sasuke interrupted.

“you don't live together?” he exclaimed, gaining a few looks from people passing by.

“no-

“maybe after the proposal or wedding,” sasuke shrugged, while your eyes widened.

“that’s great to hear, i better be invited, stop by when you’re free, we have to leave, it’s date night,” naruto winked.

“it was wonderful seeing you again, y/n,” hinata smiled, as naruto excitedly pulled her to the newest ramen restaurant.

once the two of them were gone, you both began walking. nervously clutching your handbag, you didn’t know how to bring up his words-

“what is the matter?” sasuke asked.

“you told naruto we would live together after the proposal or wedding, is that true?” you asked, staring at your feet.

“yes, married couples live together, don’t they?”

“yes, but you’re sure want to do these with someone like me?”

“i haven’t been the best partner to you, and i’m trying to make it up to you, however, my promise is still the same as it was back then,” he said, his hand brushing against your own.

you smiled thinking of the memory, sasuke was leaving, joining orochimaru, when he stopped at your house to say goodbye. you cried bitterly, as he held you close, promising if he didn’t die, and finally became stronger, he would come back for you. he wanted to marry you, and while it wasn’t much of a priority anymore, younger sasuke guaranteed that it was only you, he planned to restore his clan with.

“it was a long time ago, i made those promises, am i someone you'd do these things with?” he asked, hesitantly.

“of course”

“even after everything-

“when you left, i tried dating. it was a failure, none of them were ever good enough. i searched and i couldn't find someone like you, so i decided to wait until you came back to me because i knew you'd get stronger,” you smiled.

“i love you, a lot,” he said, stoically.

“i know dear, i love you too,” you laughed.

quietly huffing, he felt like he was moving in slow motion. for the first time in years, he reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers.

“we should go ring shopping, once you're done with work tomorrow,” he said.

“sounds great, can i ask you a question?” you said, your face burning in exhilaration.

“anything”

“do you still want to restore your clan?”

“only if it is something you wanted, i doubt work would allow me to have too many children, maybe one or two,” he admitted.

“that’s completely manageable, have you ever thought of baby names?” you caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly.

“only if it was a girl, i was thinking sarada, for reasons,” he glanced over at you.

“it's unique, i like it,” you said, as he finally stopped in front of your house.

“thank you for walking me home”

“you are welc-

“would you like to spend the night? i mean, its late and-

“would you be okay with me being here?” he asked, smiling as you nodded shyly.

“lead the way,” he nodded, taking off his shoes, following you into your home for the night.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

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[bunny-1111]

I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

[novaursa]

req for an aegon ii x reader who has a similar role of margaery tyrell? (love-bombing him so they can be betrothed and stuff)

she very easily manipulates aegon and basically uses his mommy issues to get whtv she wants (obviously bothers alicent to no end).

Web of Gold

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Next part: aegon in love

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

It’s a beautiful morning, yet the tension between you and Alicent Hightower crackles like a summer storm. You can feel her eyes boring into you from across the room, but you’ve become quite accustomed to her watchful glares. If anything, you thrive on them.

You smile sweetly, dipping your head toward Aegon as he lounges on the Iron Throne, looking far more relaxed than any king should. He’s watching you with that same eager gleam in his eyes, waiting for whatever praise you’ll offer him next. It’s become a game for you at this point—how much can you say before he completely melts? And it’s easier than it should be.

"My king," you say softly, stepping closer, your golden Lannister curls bouncing as you move. "You look especially regal today. Like Aegon the Conqueror himself reborn. Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

Aegon straightens slightly, his eyes widening with interest. "What?" His tone is eager, as though whatever you say might be the single most important revelation of his life.

"I see a man destined for greatness. Aegon, you are so strong, so powerful, and—" you let your voice drop into a breathy whisper, "so very wise." You emphasize each word, drawing out your compliments in a way that sends a flush of pride creeping up his neck.

Aegon shifts in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "Do you really think so, Y/N?" he asks, his voice almost boyish, seeking that reassurance from you.

"Of course I do, darling. And I would never lie to you." You reach out, letting your fingers brush against his hand in a gentle, lingering touch, just enough to make his breath hitch. "Unlike others who may have their own agendas…" You throw a quick glance toward where Alicent stands, her expression tight, lips pressed thin. The corner of your mouth twitches into a hidden smirk.

Aegon doesn’t notice. He’s too busy basking in the attention you're lavishing on him. "Mother just worries," he mumbles, though even he seems half-hearted about it.

"Worries?" You tilt your head, feigning innocence. "I think she underestimates you, my love. You’ve already proven yourself to be a far better ruler than anyone could have imagined. I can’t imagine why she continues to hover over you like you’re still a boy."

You know exactly why. Alicent cannot stand the idea of you influencing her son. It grates on her to see Aegon so smitten, so easily swayed by your honeyed words. But that’s precisely what you’re counting on.

Aegon chuckles, clearly amused. "She just doesn’t understand, does she?"

"She doesn’t," you agree, leaning in closer so your voice is only for him. "But I do." You place your hand on his chest, right over his heart. "I see you for the man you are, Aegon. A man who doesn’t need his mother whispering in his ear, telling him what to do. You’re king now. You should be able to make your own decisions. Isn’t that what you want?"

Aegon’s eyes flicker with something—desire, admiration, a need for validation. "Yes," he says, his voice firm, though you know it’s more out of wanting to please you than actual conviction. "That is what I want."

You smile, letting your fingers trail lightly down his chest before stepping back, your eyes sparkling with the satisfaction of a job well done. "Then take what’s yours, my king. Trust yourself. Trust me." You cast another glance toward Alicent, who looks like she’s about to bite through her tongue.

She’s always there, lurking like a shadow, trying to pull Aegon back into her grasp. But he slips through her fingers every time you’re around. Alicent has power, but you? You have Aegon. And he doesn’t even realize it.

You turn to face the queen mother, giving her a radiant smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. "Your Grace, you must be so proud of Aegon," you say, your voice saccharine sweet, as though you’re not fully aware of the tension between you. "He’s grown into such a strong man under your care."

Alicent stiffens, her lips twitching in a forced smile. "He has always been capable," she says, her tone clipped. "Though I think he still benefits from wise counsel."

You tilt your head, pretending to consider her words, though you already know exactly how to respond. "Of course," you agree, "but I think he’s ready to make his own choices now. Don’t you?" You let the question hang in the air, a gentle reminder that Aegon is your king now, not hers.

Alicent opens her mouth to reply, but Aegon cuts in before she can get a word out. "Mother, Y/N’s right. I don’t need to be told what to do all the time." He laughs, clearly proud of himself for standing up to her, oblivious to the fact that he’s only echoing your words.

You beam at him, eyes sparkling. "Exactly, my love. You are your own man. And no one, not even your mother, can take that from you."

Alicent’s gaze narrows, and for a moment, you think she might say something sharp, but she bites her tongue. You know it’s eating her alive inside, watching Aegon slip further under your influence, but she can’t do anything about it. Not without making herself look overbearing in front of her son.

"Come, Aegon," you say lightly, turning back to him. "Let’s take a walk in the gardens. You could use some fresh air after sitting on that throne for so long."

Aegon rises eagerly, flashing you that boyish grin that only makes him seem more malleable. "Yes, let’s."

As you link your arm through his and lead him out of the hall, you don’t bother to look back at Alicent. You can already feel the weight of her stare burning into your back. You have Aegon wrapped around your finger, and she knows it.

But as long as you continue to feed his need for affection, for someone to praise him and treat him like the king he so desperately wants to believe he is, he will never stray far from your side. And Alicent can do nothing but watch.

[llxferim]

“My name’s not God, Sweetheart”

a/n: YALL 145 NOTES ON MY LAST FIC IS CRAZYY THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, THIS GIVES ME SO MUCH MOTIVATION AGHH. also i meant to post this yesterday but i forgot…

REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (pls request smth😔)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You came back from yet another mission from Fury, who has been pushing you a little over the edge lately, barely giving you any time to catch a breath and heal up, this time you got seriously injured. your girlfriend— who’s on a mission overboard was supposed come back in a few days, but she decided to come home early as a surprise.

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, no yn used, nat is a bit of a tease, established relationship, thigh riding, eventual smut, smut with little plot. teasing, receiving oral (reader). fem!reader, flirting, injured reader, fluff, little angst, cuts;bruises mentioned, not proofread

Word count: 1.6 k

You sat on the cold concrete, your back against the remains of a shattered structure. Normally, you took pride in completing your missions without collateral damage, but the exhaustion was too much for today, leaving you indifferent to the wreckage around you.

Every part of you ached, and standing felt like an impossible task. Fury had been relentless with the assignments lately, barely allowing you a moment to catch your breath and heal. When you tried to bring it up with him, he simply shrugged you off. “If you can’t handle it, maybe you don’t belong here.”

His words struck deep. You had given everything to prove yourself to him, and now that dedication felt like a burden rather than a badge of honor.

His words struck deep. You had given everything to prove yourself to him, and now that dedication felt like a burden rather than a badge of honor.

You usually took on the missions with your girlfriend, Natasha. But this time, she was overseas, deep undercover, and due to return in a few days. All you wanted was to clean up and heal your bruises before she came back, so she wouldn’t have to worry about you.

Her absence left a hollow ache in your chest, and you longed for the comfort of her presence as you finally stood up with a grunt. Walking back home didn’t sound good but you didn’t really have another choice, so you suck it up and push through the pain.

After a long walk, you finally reach home and lean against the elevator frame, waiting for the doors to open. When they do, you stumble inside and press the button for the 8th floor, sinking to the ground and closing your eyes for a moment.

Just as the elevator stopped, you heard a familiar voice. “Love? What are you doing down there? Are you okay?” You opened your eyes to find Wanda crouched in front of you, concern etched across her face.

“Nat? What are you doing here? I thought you were coming back in a few days,” you asked, surprised.

“Surprise,” she replied, though her worried expression lingered.

“Let’s get you up. Come on,” she said, sliding your arm around her shoulder for support. You winced at the movement but leaned into her, grateful for her presence.

“what happened?” she asks as she opens the front door, and closes it with a flick of her hand as soon as you both walk in.

“Nothing, I just came back from a mission” you grunt out as she helps you sit down on your bed.

Natasha's eyes scan over your battered form, her brow furrowing with concern. "Just a mission? You look like you've been through a war." Her hands gently cup your face, her thumbs stroking your cheeks. "Tell me what happened."

You sigh, the weight of your exhaustion pressing down on you. "Fury's been... relentless lately. I've barely had time to breathe between assignments."

Natasha's expression darkens. "He's pushing you too hard. This isn't right."

As she helps you remove your gear, you wince at every movement. Natasha notices and her concern deepens. "You're hurt. Let me help."

“I’m fine, I just need to lay down.” you refuse, not wanting her to see the rest of your body.

“c’mon, darling, you know I can’t leave you like this” she cups your face, “let me help. I’ll bandage the wounds at least.” she tugged your shirt upwards, you didn’t have the energy left to argue so you just raise your arms as she gently takes off your shirt.

“This is what you call ‘nothing’?” Her voice is soft but tinged with anger.

“You’re taking the week off. I’ll have a word with Fury myself,” she says, her jaw set. She grabs a first aid kit and kneels in front of you, her movements steady and careful as she begins cleaning your wounds, her expression hurting you more than any other wound. Seeing her worried— for you, just didn’t feel right.

“Nat, I’m fine. I just need a day’s rest,” you try to reassure her, but the worry etched on her face doesn’t ease. She pauses, then rests her head on your lap, her arms wrapped around your waist. “I hate seeing you hurt,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Despite the pain, you gently place a hand on her head, brushing your fingers through her soft, scarlet hair. “I’ll be okay, really,” you murmur, lifting her face to meet your gaze before pressing a light kiss to her lips. The effort sends a wave of pain through you, and you wince.

“Don’t move,” she says quickly, regaining her composure as she resumes bandaging you with even greater care. When she’s done, she helps you into bed, then disappears into the kitchen, returning with a pill and a glass of water.

“Here, this should help.” She hands you a painkiller, her expression softened.

"Thank you, love," you say, swallowing the pill with a grateful smile. She leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. She lays down next to you, her movements still careful, afraid of causing you pain. "I don't feel like sleeping," you murmur, turning to face her as she plants soft kisses on your hand.

"Would you like me to cook something for you?" she offers, her green eyes brimming with concern and love—all for you. You can't help but wonder how someone as perfect as she is could have chosen you. She notices you drifting off to your thoughts and gives you a quick peck to bring you back, But instead of letting her pull away, you slip a hand to the back of her neck and deepen the kiss, savoring the warmth and connection you’ve missed so much.

"In the mood, are we?" she teases, her voice low and amused, a playful spark lighting up her face.

"Maybe," you reply with a smirk. "I mean, my girlfriend has been gone for a month." You try to play it off, ignoring the dull ache that’s settled into your muscles.

She chuckles, tracing a finger down your cheek before resting her hand gently on your shoulder. “I'm sure we can make up for lost time," she says, laughter dancing in her tone, "but not today.”

"Why not?" You blink, half confused, half pouting, as she quirks an eyebrow.

"Do I need to remind you that just half an hour ago, you could barely walk from the pain?" she says, her eyebrow raised in playful challenge. in response you get on top of her, holding back a grunt from the pain. you look her in the eyes, as you cup her face in your hands, “you’re making it really hard to refuse you right now” she whispers, “that’s the plan” you whisper back in her ear, before kissing her, again.

She kisses you back but notices the little flinch of pain. “lay back down” she says through the kiss, and you obey. “The pain gets even a little worse, you tell me. okay?” she pulls away, to look at you. You hum in response, grabbing her face and pulling her back down for the kiss, feeling impatient. you feel her knee in between your legs, causing you to groan into the kiss.

“up” was all she needed to say before you sat up, the pleasure of the moment covering any pain you felt. she leaned on the bed frame, placing you on top of her thigh as she pulled you back into the kiss. the heat between your legs was increasing yearning for more, causing you to grind on her thigh.

she takes off your shirt, softly so as to not hurt you, landing wet kisses across your body, on your bruises, cuts, and scars.

you speed up, riding her thigh while resting your head on her shoulder out of exhaustion. Nat traces your nipples with her fingers, bringing her mouth down. brushing soft kisses, before roughly sucking them off, causing you to make sounds that are sinful to listen to.

You desperately start speeding up, “Nat” You moan breathlessly, voice coiled at your throat and your hands on her hair. She looks up at you, suddenly stopping and softly turning you and laying you down on the bed, as she travelled down your stomach. your legs parted— for her, as she took off your pants along with your panties.

“You’re so beautiful” she pants, before landing wet kisses on your pussy, tauntingly. making you flinch. “Please” You raise your hips in an attempt to get what you’re yearning for but she quickly guides them back down. “Patience, Darling.”.

She spreads your lips, licking the wetness, making you flinch, before slowly entering her tongue in your cunt. you whimper out in pleasure, but she barely gives you any time before speeding up, causing you to clutch whatever you can. you bring your hands down on her hair, tugging her deeper and deeper, as you cry out in satisfaction.

“God…it feels good” you whine out in pleasure before your insides clench around her tongue, finally giving you the sweet release. she rises, licking her lips “My name’s not god, Sweetheart.”

As Natasha wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you close, her warm breath tickles your ear as she asks, “What are you thinking about?”

You smile, recalling a cozy evening from not long ago. “Just thinking of those cookies you made last month,” you murmur, turning your head to meet her gaze with a playful glint in your eye.

She raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh? You liked them that much?”

“Maybe…” you tease, nudging her gently. Her smirk widens, and she lets out a soft chuckle. “Well, if it’s cookies you want…”

With a gentle kiss, she pulls away, her hand brushing down your arm before she stands up. “Consider it done,” she says, her voice laced with determination. As she pads toward the kitchen, A smile tugs at your lips as you watch her disappear into the kitchen. Just moments ago, she’d had you gasping and whispering her name in ways that felt sinful—and now here she is, slipping out of bed to bake cookies.

[harrysfolklore]

hi bestie,, idk if u take requests buttt have u seen kieran culkin speech after he won his emmy & then him asking his wife for another baby on stage 😁🤭🤭 idk i thought that would a cute h blurb

that kieran speech was SO CUTE i just had to take this request !!! happy one year of grammy winner Harry for those who celebrate! i hope you like this as much as I do

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The night had been one for the books.

Harry became a Grammy winner for the second time within the first 30 minutes of the ceremony, getting the award for Best Pop Vocal Album, and your heart bursted with joy and pride and you watched him collect it.

He also delivered an amazing performance even though he had a stage malfunction that was out of his control, and after a few minutes of pep talk backstage, you convinced him that he should be proud of what he did no matter what.

Nights like tonight made you look back at your journey with Harry, from getting frustrated each year when the Grammys refused to give One Direction a nomination, to consoling him when his debut single Sign of the Times got overlooked and celebrating when they finally ave him his long overdue nomination for Fine Line. And now, being one of the most nominated artists of the night and a winner already.

Harry was not an artist that let awards or numbers define his career at all, but you knew that deep down he appreciated getting a nod and recognition for the hard work he puts into his music.

"What's on your mind, honey?" Harry asked and he noticed that you had been quiet for a few minutes, the show was on a commercial break so you could talk freely.

"Just thinking about how am I getting a picture with Beyoncé before the night ends," you joked, making him laugh along, "I'm also thinking about the bub, do you think she's okay?"

Harry couldn't help but smile at the mention of your daughter. Little baby Styles had been welcomed into the world a year and a half ago, looking like an exact carbon copy of Harry with curls, dimples and charming green eyes.

It's safe to say that she became Harry's entire world from the moment he saw her for the first time.

"I bet she's fast asleep by now after snuggling with mum for hours," you smiled at the thought, "You know she's obsessed with mum."

"She just loves her nana," you almost cooed, "And her Grammy winner daddy, even tho she doesn't have any idea what that means."

"You know," Harry began, and by the look on his face you knew he was up to no good, "She could become obsessed with her bay brother or sister too, if we decided to give her one."

The smirk on Harry's face after his statement was almost devilish, making you look him with wide eyes and a grin on your own.

"Are you asking me for another baby in the middle of the Grammys?" Harry shrugged, the smirk not leaving his face, "You're a menace. But, maybe if you win, I'll think about it."

Before Harry could reply, the lights dimmed signaling that commercial break was over and it was time for more awards, more specifically, the most important award of the night: Album of the Year.

Trevor Noah, the host, talked about the importance and meaning of the award, the fans the production had invited to support the nominees stood beside him in a line.

You could barely focus on what was being said because your eyes were fixed on Harry's hand gripping yours tightly, and you felt like throwing up from nerves if you looked at the stage.

And the Grammy goes to…” Trevor spoke into the mic, making a dramatic pause that felt way too long and made you finally look up no the stage, noticing that he was standing in front of Reina, Harry's fan.

And that was the moment you knew, the Album of the Year was Harry's House.

“It’s you!” both you ans Jeff whisper-yelled in unison, looking at each other with shocked faces and making Harry give you a confused look.

“What do you-” and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.

Harry immediately covered his face in disbelief, shaking his head and taking in in the moment. You couldn't help but stand up and jump in your place, adrenaline and excitement, but mostly pride, running through your veins.

"My love, you won! Harry's House won!" you said into his ear when he finally wrapped his arms around you, pecking the side of yiur head repeatedly before kissing your lips quickly.

"I love you," was all he said before getting rushed into the stage along with his collaborators and friends.

"Shit!" was the first thing that came out of his mouth once he had his Grammy in hand, making everyone laugh, “I mean,shit! I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone,” he took a breath,"I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”

You stood with your hands clutched to your chest, your eyes filled with happy tears and nothing but love and admiration for him.

"I'd like to thank my mom and my sister for being my biggest supporters and giving me a great childhood, I would be nowhere without you," he paused to look directly at you from the stage, his eyes immediately watering again, "And of course my beautiful wife, YN. Thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me and giving me an amazing daughter who is the reason I do what I do everyday,"

You were unaware of the camera focusing on your and catching the moment you mouthed an 'I love you' to him from your place.

"I love you both so much, you mean the world to me. And YN," he paused, the devilish look from earlier making his way to his face again, along with a teasing raised eyebrow that told you that he was about to do something major, "I want another one."

The entire arena erupted into laughs and cheers, Jeff clapped and whistled from beside you and you couldn't help but cover your face in shock and embarrassment, astonished by Harry's anctics.

"You said, maybe if I won, and I did!" the crowd laughed even more, "I love you, so much. Thank you for this, I'll never forget it."

Harry got off the stage and you met him backstage to congratulate him properly, after a final performance the night came to an end and everyone headed outside the arena to celebrate.

"Do you feel like partying tonight? The label is throwing a celebration but if you feel tired we can skip it," Harry said as you both sat on the back of his Range Rover.

"Honestly, I just want to go home, kiss our baby goodnight and celebrate with my Grammy winner husband in private," you smiled at him teasingly, "Maybe get started on that second baby making."

The smile that appeared on Harry's face after hearing your words was bigger than the one from winning a Grammy.

"Home it is, then."

[silkythewriter]

Heyy so weird request but could you do a vox x reader who has a kinda one sided rivalry with him in the sense every time he releases tech she'll challenge herself to make a better version

Vox with a one sided rivalry with reader!

Warnings!: A tad tinne winne bit of angst!, sorry if he’s OOC! (˃̣̣̥ ^˂̣̣̥`)

Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!

Author note!: OOOOOO I haven’t written rivals to lovers in a bit! Hopefully it’s not too bad!

(￣▽￣)💧

Summary!: One sided rivalry with are favorite TV demon (ﾉ ≧∀≦)ﾉ

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! <3.❤️

★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★

“In the morning, you would gone

I'd be mourning, tryin' to hold on To

the memory of your lips God,

I'm so lovesick What have you done to me?“

★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★

!📺✨Vox✨📺!

Devastated, like actually in greif

After YEARS of not even a single demon upon billions below in the forsaken place called hell could make a DENT in the empire he built. But then you came along! With all your Gezmos and trinkets! (He refuses to call them anything other then that)

He is insecure, no matter how much he puts a face on about not having a fear in the world. He dose, he’s terrified of being replaced or knocked off the top!

The first time you released something after he did he merely laughed. You? A small tiny little business? What idiot would do that!? Your product was most definitely gonna be looked over!

Or that is what he thought at first (ಡ‸ಡ)…

Soon he realized how quick your growth to fame was. And honestly had a melt down, who even were you?!

He makes back handed complements on his TV show like for example “and on recent news a new technology has been released by *insert your name/company name*, looks a bit cheap but it’s okay for their first time!”

Yea expect those a lot…

He’s use to company’s butting heads with him, but he always squashed them in under a day! If not less!, so he was bewildered when you just kept popping up everywhere. He doesn’t even know how. half of the channels in hell are owned or under his name! Or at least played on HIS tvs!.

And when he released a product only for the next day for it to get a bit over shadowed by yours he loses it. He immediately thinks your doing this on purpose, he thinks your doing this as a means to get his attention.

Will never admit it but he bought one just to break it outta rage but after a bit he understood the hype, will take this to his second death bed.

He’s never had a good look at you before maybe a small invention or gala for some of the highest company owners in hell. And let me tell you when this man saw you he was shocked, it took velvet to snap her fingers for him to get out of his trans-like-state. He’s more embarrassed then he’s ever been, not only are your products prove to be a good runner up to his but you were making min lose his breath.

He didn’t wanna believe at first before velvet confirmed it to him.

And may i say, the minute you glanced at him and gave him a charming smile while waving your hand at him with a small glint of pride in your eyes, he actually had a system crashed screen as his whole system rebooted.

It wouldn’t be long till you made your way over to him trying to introduce yourself(•̀ᴗ•́)و

Honestly he couldn’t think straight until you excused yourself to talk to another business owner. He dosent understand, for all the years he’s been dead how is his heart beating so fast for you?

In denial about any feelings towards you, it can’t be! He despises you !, right?

Takes him a bit to work up the courage to talk to you again, as he introduced himself properly with as much passive aggressive charm he could muster. Only to be confused at your sweet yet passive aggressive smile as you shook his hand with such care

How can someone be so competitive yet so sweet?

We’re you trying to woo him on purpose!?(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

He didn’t understand even though he knew your intent, and the underlying nature in your interaction. He still found it charming, and shocking at you technical level and marking tactics. He isn’t happily impressed, but he is definitely impressed, he would never show that though of course.

It always seemed no matter how much of a short time between releases you always managed to make it better he just didn’t understand how!. How did you have such short time to perfect something that he’s been working at for months!

He soon realizes out shinning you or squashing you business wasn’t gonna work. You guys were too evenly matched, it would be through pure luck that one of you would out shine the other one day and not the next. So he did the best next thing, purposed a business deal (quite reluctantly might I add)

To just merge company’s he knew your rise wouldn’t falter anytime soon.

At first you felt like this was a trick, to steal your soul or take you out while your walls were down. But he quickly explained it’d be easier to just have you work on things and share the profit (surprise, surprise)

Now you can decide weather you accept or not!

But after that meeting he would call you over for many more strictly for business meetings! Definitely not just desperate to spend time with you or anything

Even when you proposed to just, email, or text, he still declined saying he found it easier to say what he needed out loud. Definitely…. (≖ᴗ≖✿)

Sooner or later you’d catch on, or some people on the news would gossip of your “secret affairs”

You would soon confront him about this, and let me tell you this man is decent at standing under pressure in some if not most situations expect this one.

I feel like he wouldn’t admit it till MANY months later cause he’s just that stubborn

He just hates it, he hates your stupid smile, the way you make his stomach do back flips, the small glint of happiness and pride when your product is loved and bought by the millions. He hates the smile you keep even if at a rivalry with him. He hates everything about you, he hates it, he hates it so much he ends up realizing he loves it.

Yea he is one complicated man….

But once he finally admits it, and you end up giving it a shot. This guy would try to act like he wasn’t about to shut down, like his inner fans and vents weren’t about to self implode, he’d act cool and collected about it but behind closed doors he’s quite literally smiling like a dope

NOW if this were released to the public, the mess that would ensue is scandals upon scandals.

I mean! Imagine the head lines! “Two of hells most biggest company rivals now together?!”

News is fast to spreed lemme tell you that

I feel like he would rather have the relationship private but if it got out…let’s just say he wouldn’t stop it either per say (¬‿¬)

Overall! I feel like even if it was a one sided rivalry I feel like it would quickly turn to both of you butting heads. Cause to out shine the king of tech himself is quite the challenge, and you being able to do that says a lot!, he’ll be holding a grudge even into a relationship and still would get competitive here to there he would definitely still study your work to see how you improve so fast!. Still in the end of the day he’ll still dote on you behind close doors!

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ-♡ॢ)⋆*✩

★🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮★

WOWZA THAT WAS ALOT OH MY GOSH

ヘ（。□°）ヘ

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!, I haven’t written rivals to lover plot in a bit BUT MY GOSH NESS ITS VERY FUN TO PLAY AROUND WITH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

[cowboybeepboop]

Sweet Surrender

Pairing: Scott Miller x fem! Reader

Genre: Romantic smut, kind of angsty at some parts idk

Word count: 6k

Summary: You're apart of storm par and just so happen to get on the nerves of Scott, which truly isn’t that difficult of a task. But as much as you get on his nerves, he gets on yours. One day he takes things a little too far which leads to an interesting encounter.

a/n: I’m gonna be so fr and say that I’m not so sure how to portray Scotts personality but I do like the idea of taming the grumpy character with a sunshine character. I’m currently working on a couple different Scott ideas. Also if you have any request just let me know. Hope you enjoy!

You’re Javi’s childhood best friend, following him all the way from Miami to Oklahoma. The warning everyone gave you was to not follow a man rather than your dreams, but they just didn’t get it, he’s not a man. He’s your best friend and you were always going to follow him because it just wouldn’t feel right without him.

The one thing that made you want to run in the opposite direction was Scott. You don’t know how they ended up as friends in the first place and you hated the way he treated people.

You always make sure to take Javi to clean up towns, even though Scott is against it. You help Javi find which storm to follow (call it natural instinct or an early childhood fascination with storm chasing), even though Scott always pushes to go in the opposite direction.

The list can go on and on but the point being that Scott gets on your nerves. You’ve always been an absolute angel to him, well as much as humanly possible, you pride yourself on being kind. It doesn’t cost a thing to be kind, well, at least that’s your motto in life.

Being on the road with Javi (and Scott) has proven to be more than difficult, the highlight being when you get to meet up with Tyler Owens and his crew. He has quite the southern charm and they’re all pretty nice once they get over the whole storm par thing.

It’s around noon when you finally stop at the gas station, you hop out of the vehicle with a bounce in your step as you’re finally able to stretch your legs. The rest of the team pulls in parking around Javi’s truck. Scott steps out of his van and Javi calls him over, you silently curse him under your breath, preparing a smile for the unfortunately cold man.

Scott approached the group as you muttered under your breath, a slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he heard your subtle discontent.

“Hey man, we’re gonna get some snacks and take a restroom break, then hit the road again.” Javi says as Scott nods along, his gaze flickering to you, meeting your forced smile with a look of indifference.

"Sounds fair," Scott replied, his voice lacking enthusiasm. “But are we just stopping so princess over here can get her snacks?” he says with coldness in his voice. You cross your arms over your chest.

“No,” you try to keep your usual smile, “Javi is hungry too, right?” You turn to him, nudging his shoulder.

Javi glanced over to Scott then to you, he returned your smile with a soft grin, silently enjoying how Scott's jaw slightly clenched. Javi nodded in agreement, standing by your side. "Yeah, definitely could use some fuel. And snacks." he said.

Scott rolled his eyes, his arms crossing against his chest. "Whatever. I could use a break too, I guess." he muttered. Just as Scott finishes his sentence you all hear the blasting of Tyler’s music as he pulls into the parking lot.

Your smile brightens as you turn to the noise, “Tylers here!” You say to Javi “I’m gonna go say hi, then we can meet up inside.” Your tone is cheerful as you bound off toward Owens, your skirt and hair moving in sync.

Scott's gaze followed you as you walk off towards Tyler, a small scowl on his face as your skirt swirled around you. Javi chuckled, shaking his head while watching Scott.

"Someone's happy to see Tyler," Javi teased, noticing the slight frown on Scott's face.

Scott rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure. She's just too cheerful for her own good."

Javi smirked, "Jealous, Scott?" he said with a hint of mockery in his voice. They both watch as you smile up at Tyler, your arm finding its way into his as he walks toward the door of the shop.

Scott's eyes narrow, a pang of jealousy coursing through him as you linked arms with Tyler. He clenched his jaw, trying to maintain his cool demeanor, and turned to Javi.

"Well that didn't take long. Didn't expect her to cling onto him so quickly." he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Javi just responds with a roll of his eyes, knowing that’s just how you are with someone you’re comfortable with.

”Bye Ty,” you wave to him, finding your way back in front of both Scott and your best friend. “Javi, look at what Tyler bought me.” You smile as you show your snacks to him. Javi chuckled, amused by your childlike excitement as you showed off your stash. He was used to your enthusiasm, and it was something he secretly found endearing.

Javi chuckled, admiring your collection. "Looks like you had a successful shopping spree."

Scott interjects, his tone dry. "That's one way to put it. Or, she's just freeloading off him." he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at your animated display.

“No,” you seethe, your demeanor changing for a second before you reel it back in.”I bought him some water bottles for his team to hand out, that’s what we were talking about earlier.” You smile at Javi, ignoring Scott as you start walking back to the truck.

As you turn away, Scott rolled his eyes, letting out a scoff as he followed behind you. Javi glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension, and silently followed behind.

Scott leaned against his van, his arms crossed as he muttered under his breath. "Sure, water bottles. Definitely not just flirting with the ‘tornado wrangler’." You shoot him a tense look.

“First, I wouldn’t have to buy him anything if I was trying to flirt,” You cross your arms under your breasts. “Second, I’m not flirting with him, he’s just a sweetheart.” Scott smirked at your response, his gaze flickering down to your chest before meeting your eyes.

His arms stayed crossed, a cocky grin forming on his face. "A sweetheart, huh?" His tone was dripping with sarcastic mockery. "Of course, that's why you're buying him water bottles. Just being a sweetie."

Javi silently watched the exchange, his eyes flickering between you both, feeling the tension thicken in the air. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, “Well, I do enjoy the company of someone who’s kind and a sweetheart, especially over a jerk like yourself.” With that you get in the passenger seat of Javi’s truck, slamming the door loudly.

Scott's smirk widened into a smug grin as you slammed the truck door, enjoying how you reacted to his taunt. He leaned against his van, clearly amused, and let out a soft chuckle.

Javi shot Scott a glare before quickly climbing into the driver's seat next to you. He looked at you with concern and then looked back at his friend. "Way to go Scott," he muttered sarcastically Scott responds with a shrug.

“He’s a real dick,” you say to Javi as you pull out the coke Tyler bought you.

“Yeah, I know. But you’ve gotta stop letting him rile you up like that.” He responds, his hand patting your shoulder as he starts the car.

Once the excitement of the chase was over and the tornado died out, you brought the team to the small town to help clean up. You stayed back with Tyler's team to help them get necessities to the people.

Scott watched as you worked alongside Tyler's team, his arms folded across his chest, and leaned against Javi's truck. He had his usual scowl on his face, clearly displeased with the situation.

"Can't believe she's sticking with them," he muttered, his eyes flickering towards you from time to time.

Javi glanced at Scott, then back at you, his expression neutral. "She's just helping out, Scott. They need the help." Tyler's hand goes to your back as he whispers into your ear, telling you to go get some rest after the rough day.

Scott's gaze immediately goes to Tyler's hand as it lingered on your back, his jaw clenching tightly. You nod, saying goodbye to the whole team, grabbing your water bottle as you head over to Javi.

Scott stays silent as you approach them, his eyes darting between you and Tyler whose gaze remained on you. Your bright smile being replaced with a half one as you get them. “Javi, Scott, how’s everything going?”

Javi glances at Scott before answering, noticing the tension between you two. "We're almost done here. Just cleaning up the rest of the town," he said. Your eyes fall to the damage around you as you pick at your fingernails anxiously.

Scott remained quiet for a moment before speaking, his tone cold and sarcastic. "And you're leaving already? Thought you'd have stayed the night with the ‘tornado wrangler’."

Your eyes narrow as your sweetness finally dropped. “Scott what the fuck is your problem,” your eyes brim with tears, you’re just exhausted from the day and all his antics, “you’ve seen all of this damage and you’re still as cruel as ever.” You bite out bitterly.

Scott's gaze darkened at your emotional response, his arms still folded across his chest. He seemed unfazed by your anger, a look of indifference on his face. "My problem?" he retorted coldly. "Maybe my problem is that you're too caught up in helping those storm chasers, instead of sticking with us."

Javi stepped forward, his voice calm but firm, "Scott, don't-”

Scott cut him off, his attention now fully on you. "I'm just being honest. Stop fawning over Tyler and remember who your real team is here." Your tears fall from your eyes as you step back from him.

“Fuck you, asshole.” Your body trembles as tears stream down your face, Javi pulling you into his chest rubbing your back intimately.

Scott's expression softened slightly at the sight of your tears, his gaze flickering from you to Javi holding you against his chest. Javi shot Scott a cold glare before turning his full attention to you, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

"Hey, don't let him get to you," Javi whispered, trying to soothe you as his eyes narrowed at Scott. He opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly closed it, realizing that anything he said right now would only worsen the situation.

He was taken aback by your reaction and the way Javi was holding you, regret fills him as he watches you shakily move from Javi. Your hands and voice are shaky as you wipe your tears from your cheeks “I think I’m gonna get a ride back from Ty..” your voice trails off.

Javi calls out to you, his voice stern but concerned. “Hey, wait-”

Scott interrupts, his tone softer than before. “Y/N, hold on-”

But you ignore their calls, your steps becoming brisk as you make your way to Tyler’s truck, your arms wrapped around yourself, seeking comfort.

Javi looks at Scott, his eyes filled with disappointment, a disapproving scowl on his face. “Scott, you have a funny way of showing how much you like her.” Tyler pulls you into a comforting hug, his arms around your neck as you hold his waist. Your tears soaking his white shirt as you try to explain that you’re just crying because you’re exhausted.

“You’re just sending her off into the arms of another man, whose intentions might not be so pure.” Javi’s voice is harsh as he watches the interaction while shaking his head.

Scott's expression hardens at Javi's words, his hands balling into fists at his sides. "As if her intentions are any better." he shot back, jealousy and irritation seeping into his voice.

Javi lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "That's not the point, Scott. Just look at her." he says, gesturing to you as Tyler opens the passenger door for you. "You've hurt her more than you realize."

You sigh as you get into his truck, “Thank you again Tyler,” you smile up at him but your eyes stay teary.

“Don’t even worry about it sweetheart, things seemed pretty heated. I’m just glad to get you away from that.” He starts the ignition giving you a small smirk. “So, how about we hit up the bar next to the motel? Get you cheered up.”

“That sounds like a great idea” your smile reaches your eyes as he pulls off.

Your irritation continues to build as you sip on your whiskey, a scowl taking the place of your usual sweetness. “Scott is a dick.” You say in a cool tone, your arms crossing.

“Is he why you’re so worked up?” Lily questions as she orders herself another cocktail.

”Unfortunately..” you grumble before taking another sip.

“I don’t know why you guys keep him around or why you let him get you all hot and bothered like this.” She says with amusement in her voice.

“I don’t” you protest, your eyebrows furrowing, she laughs in response.

”Oh really?” Your fingers fumble with your glass, “Do you hate him or is it something more?” She teases.

You gasp as Boone laughs, “Maybe you should go argue with him some more,” he motions to your drink. “Now that you have liquid courage.”

”You’re right. I should go talk some sense into that thick skull of his.” You say with newfound confidence.

You shoot Javi a text asking him which room Scott is staying in. He responds rather quickly, making sure to tell you to play nice.

“I’ve got it, I’m gonna go give him a piece of my mind.” The pair laugh at your remark as you down the rest of your drink. Grabbing your jacket you leave the establishment, thinking about all the things you’re gonna yell at him as you walk to his motel room.

You knock against the door roughly, Scott is sitting on the edge of his bed. He’s deep in thought and frustration, nursing a beer, when he hears the knock on his door. His eyes narrow, wondering who it could possibly be.

He gets up and makes his way to the door, opening it. Scott looks at you, his eyes slightly widened at the surprise of you standing outside his room, a stern and determined look on your face. He knew this conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant.

"What do you want?" Scott asks, leaning against the doorframe, pretending to be unaffected by your presence. You push your way into his room, slamming your shoulder in his arm. You plop onto the mattress with your arms crossed over your stomach.

“I want you to apologize.” You throw your left leg over your right. Scott lets out a huff of annoyance, clearly unamused by your unexpected and blunt demand.

He lets the door close behind him as he crosses his arms over his chest. "What are you, five?" he retorts, a slight smirk plays at the corner of his lips. "You barge into my room uninvited, just to demand an apology?"

”Yes, I want you to apologize to me.” You keep a stoic expression, no longer extending kindness his way, which frustrates him even more. Scott looks down at you, his smirk fading as you maintain your cold expression.

He's not used to seeing you so serious, and it only serves to irritate him further. "And why should I apologize to you, princess? I didn’t do anything wrong." he replies, his tone still biting.

He steps closer to the bed, his arms still crossed over his chest. The annoyance in his eyes becomes more apparent as you refuse to back down. You stand up and poke your pointer finger into his chest, your eyebrows furrowing.

“You did do something wrong and you know it.” You spit out. Scott's eyes narrow as you poke him in the chest, annoyance rolling off of him in waves. He swats your hand away, gripping your wrist and holding it tightly.

"And what exactly did I do wrong?" he says back, his voice low and firm as he steps closer to you. "As far as I'm concerned, I just stated the truth." You shove his shoulder with your free hand pushing him onto the bed.

“Oh yeah?” You retort, “You weren’t being honest you were being a total douche.” Scott grunts as he makes contact with the bed, surprise flashing in his eyes. He looks up at you, sitting on the edge of the mattress, frustration written all over his face.

He scoffs at your comment, bristling at your insult. "Being a douche? I was just being real. You’re always so focused on those other storm chasers and you don’t even notice what's right in front of you."

He grabs your wrist once again, pulling you down onto the bed beside him. “And what’s right in front of me, huh?” You yank your arm away while glaring up at him. Scott lets go of your wrist, his eyes locking onto yours as you glare up at him. He scoffs, rolling his eyes briefly before answering you.

"Me, dumbass," he retorts coldly. He lets out an exasperated huff as his eyes flick across your face. "I'm right in front of you. And yet for some reason you keep swooning over Owens."

Your eyes widen with surprise as his words cause a blush to creep up your cheeks. “Tyler?” You question Scott, your eyebrows furrowing. Scott notices the blush creep across your cheeks, he smirks seeing your flustered response. He raises an eyebrow at your question.

"Yeah, Tyler. Ring a bell?" He taunts. "You always hang around him, buy him food and water, and give him those sweet little smiles." he states dryly, his voice dripping with jealousy and irritation.

He reaches out, his large hand grabbing your thigh, his thumb slowly rubbing against the smooth flesh. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” You say biting your lip as his touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Scott's eyes darken at your question, his grip on your thigh tightening as a pang of annoyance and jealousy shoots through him.

He swallows before responding, his tone gruff and sarcastic, "Jealous?" he retorts. "Of Tyler Owens? Why would I be jealous of that pretty boy wannabe storm chaser?" He lets his hand run further up your thigh, his fingers teasing the edge of your short skirt.

”It sounds like you’re a bit worked up.” You groan out, your body tingling in reaction to his hand. Scott smirks at your reaction, his hand continues to move further and further up your thigh, slowly and deliberately.

He notices the way your body responds to his touch, relishing in the effect he’s having on you. He leans in close so his breath fans against your skin. “Worked up?” he repeats, his voice low and sultry. “And why would I be worked up, princess?”

”Maybe because you’re thinking about Tyler having the same kind of thoughts about me as you do…” You tease him, your hand sliding up his toned arm. Scott's breath catches in his throat as your hand runs up his arm, the muscles in his body tensing in response.

He grits his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly, as a surge of jealousy washes over him at your mention of Tyler. He turns on the bed to face you fully, his hand on your thigh moving to grip your waist, pulling you closer. "Watch your mouth, princess." he warns, his voice a low growl as he leans down towards you, his face mere inches from yours.

”And why should I?” You say with mischief in your voice, “You never watch your mouth when it comes to me.” Scott's eyes narrow, a fire igniting within him as you challenge him. He grips your waist pulling you even closer to him, your bodies nearly pressing against each other.

He leans down so his lips hover over your ear, his voice a rough whisper that sends a shiver down your spine. "If you keep talking like that, princess, I might have to shut that pretty mouth of yours."

”What if I’d like that?” You flick your tongue out to wet your bottom lip. Scott lets a deep chuckle rumble through his chest as he watches your tongue dart out to wet your lip, the action only fueling the desire burning within him.

He grips your hip, his hands roughly pulling you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. He runs his hand up the expanse of your bare thigh, his fingers brushing against the edge of your skirt.

He looks at you, his gaze dark and intense as he replies huskily, “Careful what you wish for, princess.” You grind your hips down on his, trying to further tease him as your arms find their way around his neck.

Scott lets out a guttural groan as you grind against him, his grip on your body tightens reflexively, pulling you against him even harder. He leans in, his lips mere millimeters from your skin, his hot breath fanning your neck.

His hands move further under your skirt, his calloused fingers trailing up the inside of your thighs slowly and torturously. "Playing with me still?" he growls in your ear, his voice thick with desire.

”It’s my way of getting back at you,” Scott lets out a huff as you push his shoulders, his body falling back onto the bed. He looks up at you, a mix of surprise and arousal in his eyes as you straddle him, pinning him to the bed.

He lets out a low growl, his hands reaching up to grip your hips, holding you in place. His thumbs move in circles against your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Is that right, princess?" he huffs, his voice strained with desire. "You finally fighting back?"

”I am,” you lean down to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna get you back for everything.” You say teasingly as you slip off of him, heading for the door. Scott's eyes widen as you slide off his lap, panic and desperation creeping into his gaze as you make your way to the door.

He sits up quickly, reaching out and grabbing your wrist before you can reach the door handle. His grip is firm, not willing to let you go just yet. "Where do you think you're going, princess?" he growls, pulling you back towards him.

”Not so eager to let me go this time?” You question with amusement, a smile creeping over your lips. Scott yanks you back onto the bed, pinning you underneath him in one swift motion. His body weight presses against yours, trapping you against the mattress.

He looks down at you, a mixture of annoyance and desire in his eyes. "Did you really think I'd let you walk out that door?" he huffs, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them down beside your head.

"You're not going anywhere." he murmurs against your skin as he trails kisses down your jaw, to your neck, then your collarbone. The sudden shift in power dynamics sends a jolt of excitement through your body as you feel his weight pressing you down into the bed.

You struggle slightly, not with fear but with a thrill that you never knew you enjoyed. "Scott, what are you doing?" you breathe out, your voice a mix of surprise and challenge.

His eyes are dark and focused on yours as he leans closer, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Teaching you a lesson, princess," he murmurs before his lips find yours in a fiery kiss that leaves you gasping for more.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming it as his own, and you can't help but kiss him back with a passion that matches his.

As Scott's kisses grew more tender, his asshole demeanor began to slip away, revealing a side of him you hadn't seen before. He started to undress you, his movements urgent but not rough.

You could feel his hands shaking slightly as he unbuttoned your shirt, his eyes never leaving yours. He slid it off your shoulders, exposing your lacy bra.

His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, his breath hitching in his throat. You felt a strange mix of excitement and vulnerability under his gaze, but the alcohol and your own pent-up frustrations gave you the courage to let him continue.

He leaned down to kiss your neck, his breath hot and sweet from the beer he had been drinking, sending tingles down your spine. His hands moved to the clasp of your bra, fumbling slightly as he tried to undo it, a hint of awkwardness peeking through his usually cocky exterior.

Despite everything, you found yourself eager to see where this would lead, your body responding to his touch in ways it never had to anyone else's.

As Scott's hands continue to explore your body, he finally unclasps your bra, revealing your soft, round breasts. His gaze lingers on them for a moment before he leans down to kiss and suck on your hardened nipples, causing you to arch your back and moan in pleasure.

You feel his arousal pressing against you, making you even more eager for what's to come. He then slides your skirt down, his eyes taking in the sight of your matching lacy panties.

With a smirk, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and slowly pulls them down, revealing your wetness. His eyes darken with desire as he licks his lips, and before you can even process what's happening, he's already between your legs, his tongue tracing the edges of your folds.

You gasp as he tastes you, his mouth and tongue exploring your most intimate parts with surprising tenderness. He looks up at you, a question in his eyes, but the desperate need in yours is answer enough.

He settles into a rhythm, licking and sucking until you're squirming beneath him, begging for more.

With a low groan, Scott pulls away from you, his eyes filled with a hunger that you never knew existed within him. He quickly strips his own clothes off, his erection standing proudly as he leans over you.

His gaze lingers on your exposed body, a look of awe and desire mixing within his eyes. He positions himself between your legs, his hand caressing your thigh gently. He whispers against your ear, "Ready, princess?" His voice is a mix of tenderness and urgency.

You nod, feeling the heat pool between your legs, and he doesn't waste another moment. He slides into you with a gentle push, filling you up with a surprising tenderness that makes your heart race. He starts to move, his hips rocking into yours in a slow, sensual rhythm that sends waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of the moment building as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. His hands are everywhere, caressing and exploring, making you feel cherished and desired.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he picks up the pace, the gentle movements turning into a passionate dance of bodies intertwined. The room is filled with the sound of your soft moans and his deep grunts of pleasure.

It's nothing like you've ever experienced before, and you can't help but feel a strange sense of belonging as he makes love to you with a fiery passion that seems to burn away all the tension between you.

Your bodies move in perfect harmony, every touch and kiss feeling like it's been written in the stars, leaving only the aftermath of passion and the thundering of your hearts beating together.

With a final, deep thrust, Scott's body stiffens as he reaches his climax, groaning against your neck. He releases himself inside of you with a raw passion that resonates through both your bodies.

Pulling out, he rolls onto his back, bringing you with him so that you're nestled against his side, your legs tangled together. His chest heaves with heavy breaths, his eyes closed as the tension in his muscles slowly starts to ease.

You lay there, feeling a mix of satisfaction and bewilderment, your heart racing in your chest. The room is quiet except for the sound of your mingled breaths and the occasional distant rumble outside.

The warmth of his cum inside of you serves as a physical reminder of the intensity of the moment, leaving you feeling both fulfilled and slightly overwhelmed.

As the reality of what just happened begins to sink in, you glance over at Scott, his eyes now open and staring up at the ceiling, his expression unreadable.

Quietly you slip out of the bed, grabbing your clothes and sneaking into the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up, you put your clothes back on your heart aching as your mind wanders, wondering if he regrets it all.

Scott remains lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments after you quietly slip away to the bathroom. His mind is a flurry of emotions. Part of him still can't believe what just happened.

He sits up on the edge of the bed, pulling his boxers back on, running a hand through his hair as he waits for you to exit the bathroom. When you do, he looks up at you, his expression still unreadable.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He stands up, walking over to you, his gaze intense. You look up at him, your eyes scanning his face as you try to read his face.

Scott stands in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours, a mix of uncertainty and intensity swirling in their depths. He swallows, his throat dry as he looks at you.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggles to find the right words. He lifts his hand, gently cupping the side of your face, his thumb lightly tracing the contour of your cheek.

"Hey..." he mumbles, his voice rough and strained. You think he’s trying to brush you off so you push his hand away from your face.

“I should, uh, I should probably go now..” your voice trails off as your gaze drops to the ground. Scott's eyes widen as you push his hand away, his heart clenching in his chest.

"Wait..." he says urgently, reaching out towards you. He doesn't want you to leave. Not after what just happened between you two. He grabs your wrist, gently pulling you back towards him.

"Hold on a second," he murmurs, his voice a mixture of desperation and pleading. He steps closer to you, his other hand coming to rest on your hip. You lean into his touch savoring how his hands feel against you.

”Scott, look..” you try to think of what to say but nothing else comes out. Scott's heart pounds in his chest as you lean into him. He can feel the tension in your body, sees the conflict in your eyes.

He searches your face, his gaze flickering over your features, desperate for any hint of what you're thinking. He tightens his grip on your hip, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"Look at me," he says gruffly, his voice almost pleading. He gently turns your face up towards his, his eyes locking onto yours. "What were you going to say?"

”I mean,” you take a deep breath, “it’s okay if you want me to go, I get it.” You close your eyes, your cheek pressing into his palm. Scott's eyes widen in disbelief at your words.

"What? No, no, that's not what I want at all." he says urgently, his grip on your hip and cheek tightening. He pulls you even closer to him, closing the distance so your bodies are nearly pressed up against each other.

He looks down at you, his expression a mixture of frustration and desperation. "Do you really think I'd want you to walk out after... after what we just did?" he says, his voice low and gruff.

Your arm wraps around his torso, fingers pressing into his back. “Scott, I don’t have to stay just because you feel bad about what happened..” Scott's heart clenches in his chest as you wrap your arm around him, his body responding to your touch. He lets out a sigh, his other hand moving to wrap around your waist.

"It's not that," he mumbles against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. He pulls you even closer, his arms holding you tight against him. "I don't feel bad about what happened. I just... I don't want you to leave," he admits, his voice thick with emotion.

”Scott, you’re not usually the sweet type.” Your voice regains its amused tone as you realize he wants the same as you. Scott can't help but chuckle at your words, the amused tone in your voice bringing a soft smile to his lips. He shakes his head slightly, pulling back just enough so he can look at you.

His eyes roam over your face, taking in your features and the slight smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Sweet, huh?" he mutters, his hand on your hip moving up to grip your chin, tilting your head back slightly. "That's not what you'd usually call me, princess."

”Not quite,” you smile, “but I can’t lie, I like your change in attitude.” Scott's heart skips a beat as you smile up at him, his grip on your chin tightening just slightly. A sly grin spreads across his lips as you comment on his change in attitude.

"Oh, yeah?" he hums, his voice low and sultry. He brings his face closer to yours, his breath hot on your skin. "You like it when I'm not a complete dick?" he teases, his smirk widening.

“Mhm,” you sit back on the bed, slipping out of your skirt and shirt. “You think I can borrow your shirt for the night?” Your voice is sultry as you look up at him through your eyelashes.

Scott's jaw clenches as you undress, his eyes roaming over your body as more and more skin is exposed once again. He swallows, his throat suddenly feeling dry as he watches you reach for your bra.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbles hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. "You can borrow whatever you want, princess."

His eyes are fixed on you as his shirt, still balled up on the bed from earlier, is in your hands. He watches as you slip it on, the fabric molding to your curves, and he can't help but let out a low growl at the sight.

You grasp his hand and pull him to you Scott willingly follows your lead, letting you pull him down towards the bed. A low rumble vibrates in his chest as he looms over you, his eyes roaming over your body once again.

His hands move to brace on either side of your head, holding his body above you. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and hungry. "You look damn good in my shirt," he growls, his voice thick with desire.

“You think so?” You brush your fingers over his jaw. Scott's skin tingles where your fingers brush against his jaw. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as a shiver runs down his spine at your gentle caress.

"I know so," he murmurs, opening his eyes to lock onto yours. "You look good in anything," he adds, his voice low and husky as he gazes down at you.

“Scott, we should sleep..” you murmur, your eyes getting heavy. Scott lets out a soft sigh, noticing the tiredness in your eyes. He knows you're right, but he can't help but want to hold onto this moment for just a bit longer.

With a final brush of his hand against your cheek, he rolls off of you, laying down beside you. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking you against his chest.

"Sleep," he mutters, his voice soft and soothing. "I'll be here when you wake up, princess." You rest your face against his chest, cuddling into him.

[elletheactualmenace]

Amazing

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Fem!reader

Summary: Uhh…No plot smut…?

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, light hearted teasing, tit!play, fem!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: @abbygraceasd Im done!! Thanks for the request! Also first time smut writer so, uh, sorry if it’s horrible😭 Also, also The Doctor might be a little ooc. Anyways enjoy!

“You are amazing,” the Doctor mumbles against your lips. He leans his body closer to yours, stopping you from escaping his touch.

Your body is squished between The Doctor and your bedroom door. But, you aren’t mad at the situation you have found yourself in. In fact you're happy, as the Doctor moves the hand against the door to trail up and down your clothed body. 

You could stay like this forever, you think as your arms wrap around his coat to the back of his neck to grasp at the hairs there. He groans as you tug.

“How was I amazing?” You tease trying to get him riled up more. He leans back slightly smirking at the question.

“You were bold, and brave and you looked so sexy in that outfit you picked out.” He leans in kissing your neck, leaving wet patches on your skin. “And don’t get me started on the touchiness. You knew what you were doing.”

You chuckle out, amused.

“Oh? And what was that?” You ask running your fingers through his brown hair. He hums as he pulls away from a kiss to your shoulder. “You wanted to get me in here.” He pauses, not sure if he should say what he's thinking. 

“In you,” He finally whispers, but the second you smirk at his shyness he regrets his tone of voice.

“You’re not wrong,” You purse your lips waiting for his next move. He looks down at you for a moment, taking in your face and the parts of your body he can see at this angle. Oh, how he wants to see you under him, begging for him to cum inside you, to make a mess of you.

The Doctor can feel his already tight pants tighten. He squeezes his eyes shut as he takes a deep breath trying to calm down and take it slow. Just how he knows you like it.

“Okay, enough talking,” He decides and bends down to pick you up into his arms. You let out a gasp of amusement as he pulls you into a heated kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you over to your shared bed.

“Sometimes I forget that you are strong.” You smile into the kiss. The comment causes him to pull back and give you a very offended look. You quickly apologize with a kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll have you know that I am a lot tougher than any bodybuilder you can find on Earth.” The Doctor sticks his head up high with pride. “And,” He adds, “I don’t want to hear it from you, you didn’t lift a finger when I asked for help fixing the console,” He's not actually annoyed, he's just messing with you. You know because of the way he rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“Please! It was 4 am and we had been up all night because of you,” The Doctor feels his cheeks heat up at the memory. You couldn’t handle another round, but the Doctor still had loads or energy to get out. So he went to fiddle with the console, and you refused to get up from bed. So, It was a fair point on your part.

“Right…” He says with a grumpy pout. You smirk again.

“That’s what I thought-“ He cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours, letting his tongue run along your bottom lip before diving in. His tongue rolls against yours and he can taste the gum you were chewing earlier. He hums, almost moans, into your mouth as he runs his tongue along every inch of your mouth he can reach.

Your legs tighten around him. You tug on his coat attempting to get it off. And then suddenly you’re dropped onto your soft mattress, gasping for air.

Before the Doctor does anything more, he lets his coat fall to the floor. He loosens his tie, and unbuttons and pulls off his suit jacket and shirt, leaving his tie on.

Your eyes trail over his body slowly, making sure he knows you're doing it. You bite back a groan as his hands brush the bare skin on your hips. He pulls down your pants leaving you in your panties, they are tardis blue and the Doctor smirks. You roll your eyes pulling him by his tie against your lips.

This kiss is soft, slow, and you can really feel the tingle of his warm lips. It makes your stomach tighten in excitement. You can feel the build up of wet heat in your blue panties. 

Lord how you want him right here right now.

“Take these off,” you mummer against him, pulling at his trousers. But the Doctor shakes his head pulling away from your reach.

“Oh, no no no,” The Doctor tuts, “I'm in charge here,” his eyes get dark with want and need. The look in his chocolate eyes makes your breath hitch. He leans in again, but this time targeting your thighs.

His mouth meets your soft skin, and he begins sucking gently, looking up at you through his lashes. He runs his hands up and under your shirt, making you squeak at his cold touch. His hands make their way up to your covered breasts. He kneads your chest with his large hands, and you finally throw your head back when you feel his wet tongue press against the fabric of your panties. The only thing separating his needy drooling mouth from your hot wet cunt is a thin piece of fabric.

“Take your top off.” The Doctor demands with a whisper. You comply ripping off your top and throwing it to the floor. The Doctor looks up with lustful eyes.

“Bra too.” You roll your eyes at him as you reach back to unclip it.

“Good.” He smirks.

The Doctor moves to grab hold of the edge of your painties with his teeth. Once he knows his grip is firm he pulls them down. He uses only teeth to pull your underwear all the way down to your feet.

You laugh at his idiotic antics and when he successfully throws your panties to the floor he smiles too.

The Doctor crawls back up your body, and stops when he meets face to face with your bare cunt.

“You look so fucking pretty right now.” You breathlessly whisper as his breath feathers over your slit.

“Mmm” He hums taking in your alluring scent. “But not as pretty as you,” he loops his arm around your thigh giving each a kiss before pulling you flush against his awaiting mouth.

The Doctor moves quickly, spreading your arousal with his tongue. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you feel his lips wrap around your clit, leaving just enough room for his tongue to poke out between his lips and swirl around your clitt.

You fight a groan as his lips suck and his tongue circles. Your body quivers and the Doctor has to use the arms around your thighs to keep you down. 

He moves back down to your opening and sticks his tongue in as far as he can get it to go. A growl bubbles up in his throat at the way you squeeze around him. The slurping noises further fuel The Doctor. He doesn’t know how much longer he can go without being balls deep in your drenched hole.

He laps at your cunt a while longer before he pulls back, licking his lips of your arousal. He uses the back of his hand to wipe the excess mess on his chin. All while keeping eye contact with you. It makes your head spin, and you haven't even cum yet.

“Think you're ready for me?” The Doctor asks as he climbs up your body making sure to eye your perky nipples longer then he should.

You only whine and nod in response. The Doctor smiles leaning in to peck your soft lips.

“Say it,” He insists nipping at your neck. “Out loud,” He sighs as he feels your hands run through his hair, the gesture making him lean into your touch with a soft noise of content.

“Y-yeah ‘m ready,” You whisper just loud enough for him to pick up. He smiles, and then pries your mouth open with his tongue. Once he's in, your tongues glide against each other. Moving as softly and swiftly as silk.

The Doctor groans as he pulls back and says, “Good,” with a smirk. He then dips his long fingers into you, where just a few moments ago his mouth was. He streches your tight cunt, trying to loosen you up before he shoves himself in you.

You can feel his bulge against your leg, and you swear on every dalek you ever have and ever will come across that you can feel it growing. You whimper and reach down to undo his pants, desperate for the agonizingly sweet stretch of his cock in you. 

“Okay darling,” He chuckles out at your eagerness. “Im working on it,” He tugs his pants down and with them his boxer briefs. His cock springs up, hitting his stomach in excitement.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you ramble out quickly in an attempt to get him faster.

“You need to calm down, or I won’t fuck you.” The Doctor threatens. “And I know how much you want me to.” He whispers the last part in your ear making your checks burn in embarrassment. But, you nod stilling your body, and even through your embarrassment you look up at him with desperate eyes. 

The Doctor moves to line up with your entrance and you hold your breath, waiting. As his tip sinks in you. The Doctor lets out a gasp he didn’t know he had in him. And then slowly the rest of his hard cock. 

The stretch stings, but it feels so good at the same time. And it is addicting. It’s like fire, so beautiful and welcoming yet it can be lethal if not used with precaution. But oh, how you wanted to swim in the fire. You both slot together like two pieces of a puzzle. So snug, so warm, and so perfect. You never want to leave, even if you end up burning yourself.

“What did I say? Amazing.” The Doctor moans out shuddering at the tight squeeze. You have limited vocabulary at the moment, but you manage to squeak out, “Another to add to-'' You get caught off guard when he pulls out of you almost fully before slamming right back into you. “T-the list, oh fu-fuck,” You studder out, finishing the thought he cut off.

He pulled out again this time faster, and he didn’t wait for as long before pushing in once again. The squelching sounds leave you a babbling mess. You're at The Doctors will. And he knows it just as much as you.

“Please, faster,” You say and The Doctor doesn’t falter in his response, “Why? Do you want me to fill you nice and full with my babies?” He asks, quickening his pace, per your request. You whimper at the idea of bearing his kids. You would be so swollen and full, and he would baby you, fuss about you. 

The Doctor's own words fuel his need for you even more than he thought possible. He would love to see your stomach swollen and huge with his heir. He would love to suck on your squishy, fat, breast as he fingers you. He would love to take care of you with his mouth, to help rest your aching body.

“Yes,” You spurt out, “Please,” You choke on your saliva as you watch his body move with yours. The bead of sweat on his forehead. The way his eyebrows scrunch with every movement he makes. His hips hitting yours with enough force to break the bed if he isn’t careful.

You grab hold of his swinging tie tugging it, bringing him lips to meet yours in a passionate, loving kiss. The stretch of his dick in you leaves you whimpering and whining into his mouth.

“Mhhhm,” you moan, you try to move your hand down to your clit. Needing the extra bit of stimulation to get to the beautiful edge sooner. Before you can reach in between the two of you The Doctor snatches your hand, pulling away from your lips.

“Oh, you really are greedy,” he tuts keeping his pace. “Tell me what you want and then I might give it to you.” The Doctor's hand reaches to grope your breast and flick your nipple as he continues to push in and out of you mercilessly.

You whimper and squirm as your eyes water. Your body tingles so close yet so far from where you want to be. 

“Please-,” you whine, grasping at his bare shoulders. 

“Just make me c-cum,” you babble out quietly. Desperate. Needy.

“How?” The Doctor teases, making you groan in annoyance and pleasure. When you don’t respond, he stops his thrusting completely. 

“W-why did you-“ 

“Use your words or I’ll stop.” He growled out, with his eyes glaring at you. You breathe heavily blinking to get your thoughts straight. The look on his face telling you this was just as hard for him as it is for you.

“Use your fingers,” you pause as he runs his finger against your perched nipple. He raised a brow waiting for you to continue. “On my cli-“

You don’t even have to finish the sentence before he begins pounding you, faster this time. He kiss you cheeks sloppily and whispers into your ear,

“As you wish,” he moves his hand down to your clit, wetting the tips of his fingers with your slick. He runs his fingers up to your swollen, awaiting bud. 

He twirls his fingers as his cock stretches you open. He pinches your clit and pounds your cunt, and you swear you can see stars.

“You're perfect.” The Doctor states breathlessly. “So beautiful, so tight and so perfect.” Your hips thrust up to meet him as his words. His voice and body are a song you can’t stop yourself from turning up.

“I'm going to fill you up so beautifully,” he moans out quietly, his heavy balls slapping your ass.

“Fuck-“ you cry, so near your peak. His thrust only gets faster with the sounds you make. His fingers move in quicker circles. The tingle of finishing so close.

“Go on,” he prompts, dipping his head down to suck on your neck. “Cum, for me.” 

His words are the final push into the pulsing pleasure. Your body shakes and twitches as he pounds you through your high. He moans softly as you pulse so tightly around him.

“Oh,” he moans, shuddering, “right there,” he grunts not far behind.

You can feel his hips falter and his pace slow. He moans so loud and so beautiful, it carries your high on longer than you thought possible. 

“Doctor,” You moan into his ear.

“Milk me sweetheart,” he groans as his hips thrust slower than before. His cum spurts into you, the warmth making you whimper for the hundredth time. You pull rope after rope after rope from his cock.

“So good, so fucking goo-“ he cuts himself off with a soft moan of your name as his eyes roll back. The Doctor's breathing gets jagged as your high turns into a fading buzz. 

You feel him come to a slow stop on his wobbly arms. His softened cock slowly pulls out of you. You both hiss as the loss or closeness, and The Doctor finally collapses onto the bed, right next to you. Your naked bodies pull the other one close.

You sigh, contently into his hair. His face squished against your boobs, just how he loves it. He chuckles as he helps you pull the blankets up and over your bodies. 

“You're right,” He comments, his breathing slowing down. You don’t respond for a moment, trying to think of what he means.

“Well of course I am,” you scoff softly. “But, just for the sake of the conversation, what am I right about?”

“There is one more thing to add to the list,” he replies simply, nuzzling into your chest.

“What?” You joke, “Being a good fuck?”

“No,” he says slightly taken aback, but the slight smile gives his true intentions away.

“Being a good wife.” He states calmly.

You chuckle and place a kiss on his messy head of hair.

[favefandomimagines]

Countertops (t.o)

Summary: a small fight doesn’t stop Tyler from caring about you

Request: @cinderellasmissingshoes Hi lovely, can I please request a Tyler Owens fic where he and reader are upset with each other, and they've each gone into different parts of the house to cool off. But then Tyler sees her climbing onto the counter for something, which he hates her doing because of how unsafe it is. And even though he's still upset, he still loves her and worries for her safety, so he helps her off before grabbing what she wanted?? I apologize if this is too specific, I know some writers like super specific requests and some don't, you can change this however you like! Can you please tag @glenscowboyhat as well please? They helped me come up with this idea. Thank you very much, have a nice rest of your day!

AN: a little short but fluffy and cute! And sometimes we just need a little fluffy and cute

You don’t even remember what started the argument or what it was about. The last thing you remember about the argument was that Tyler had gotten home later than intended, he didn’t answer any of your calls or texts when he was out chasing, and then the next thing you knew, you had dispersed to opposite sides of the house.

You remembered yelling at him about how you never see him for more than a few hours at a time. How you hadn’t spent enough quality time together recently and you just wanted to go on a date or do something fun.

He scoffed and said chasing paid the bills. Then you rebutted saying your job at the National Weather Service paid the bills, hitting his ego where it hurt.

It had been three hours. Three hours since the two of you have spoken and he had disappeared into the den of your shared home. It was agitating you, but you weren’t about to apologize for something that wasn’t your fault. You had too much pride for that and Tyler did too.

You were sitting at the kitchen island, scrolling through Pinterest recipes to make for dinner. You could hear the TV in the other room playing some stupid rerun of an Oklahoma Sooners game from last season.

You rolled your eyes and picked one to make. As you were cooking, you realized you were out of olive oil. You knew you kept an extra bottle in the cupboard, the cupboard that was way out of your reach.

With a groan, you moved the tea towel that was on the counter out of the way, took off your slippers, and hopped up on the countertop.

Tyler was ready to have an actual conversation with you. He was still upset, but he was more upset that he let some stupid argument get the best of him. Technically, you were right. Your job pays the bills, his job is the extra income. He just wanted to be on speaking terms with you again.

He walked into the kitchen where he knew you were and saw you kneeling on the countertop. “Woah, woah, what are you doing?” He questioned, rushing to you. Tyler wrapped his arm around your waist and one under your legs as he helped you down off the counter.

“I needed the olive oil.” You answered as he set you down on the ground. “You could have asked for help.” Tyler said. “We weren’t exactly talking. Plus, how do you think I got things off of top shelves before we moved in together?” You rebutted.

“You know I hate you doing that. It’s extremely unsafe.” He said. “And so is going inside a tornado but I don’t lecture you, now do I?” You sassed.

Tyler sighed, took your hand and pulled you towards him as he sat at the counter barstool. “Y/N, I’m sorry about the fight.” He said. “I’m sorry too. I think I was just more sad than angry that we hadn’t spent quality time together and I said things I didn’t mean.” You replied.

“No, no you were right. Tornado Wranglers is just our spending money. Your job pays for the house. I will work on making sure we spend more time together.” Tyler replied.

“How about we find a compromise? You love chasing and you love the channel, I know better than anyone how quickly storms develop. We spend every night together, but if a storm develops that’s worth chasing, you can go do what you do best.” You said.

“I love chasing but I love you more. But, I agree with your compromise.” Tyler said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Though I still think you should come out there with me. Have a real scientist go out in the storm.” He added.

You let out a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s going to take a lot more convincing to get me in that saddle, cowboy.” You joked. “Well, it turns out I’m pretty persuasive.” He commented. “Oh are you? Care to elaborate?” You questioned. “Sorry, sweetheart, you have dinner on the stove.” Tyler replied.

“Now that’s just mean.” You teased. “Come on, I’ll help you with dinner.” Tyler said, standing up.

That night, all night, Tyler’s phone was on do not disturb. He didn’t reply to a single call or text from Boone or the rest of the team. Even when dark clouds rolled in and rain started pouring.