#please i need to be able to draw again it has been five months.

[knifegremliin]

also some?? good news? maybe?

i've been able to use a mouse again, and it hasn't been bothering my wrist Too Bad

[marleemutt]

TLDR: im a black trans artist who can use some help right now following the sudden passing of my only sister - her doberman is now the responsibility of my parents and we can use help for his food, supplements, toys etc.

Kofi (help me send Chewy orders to my parent's house)

Wishlist (literally send him things like toys, treats, etc.)

⬇️ more info ⬇️

hey guys

some of you might be aware of this already, but early October, my eldest sibling & only sister suddenly passed away due to a seizure, she had been dealing with epilepsy her whole life.

this has been incredibly difficult for me, and my family. her passing was incredibly sudden, she was only 30.

for the past month or so ive been struggling to find any motivation to draw, and barely able to work.

she was the incredibly devoted owner of a doberman named Remi(Ramsey). Me and my sister traveled 4 hours to pick him up three years ago. He's a goofball who tears up socks and needs constant supervision. My parents love him, but I can tell he is a lot of work for two people who have fulltime jobs and have lived long lives.

I'm going to try to help them take care of him as much as possible, I feel that it's the least we can do to honor my sister's memory, since she loved him so deeply.

My sister always wanted a doberman, for years she would watch videos about dobermans and talk about them to anyone who would listen.

Remi wasn't easy to raise - I shared a room with my sister when she got him in 2020, she still worked a 9-5, five days a week, so I was his nanny for most of his difficult childhood. I was his chew toy for the first year of his life about - but that only made him bond closer to me. If he wasn't following my sister, I was choice #2. Dobermans are "velcro dogs", they were bred to guard their owners, and because of this, they are fiercely loyal. I've been moved out of my parent's place for going on 3 years, and my sister had just moved with Remi out a few months prior to her passing.

A week before my sister's sudden passing, we had to board Remi at my dog daycare job while my family and I took a trip out of state. When dropping him off, although he was happy to see me again for the first time in months, the moment my sister turned her back to him he began to panic. He got through the boarding all right but my coworkers told me he would cry and wait by the door for me or her. When my sister picked him up, they said he jumped all 80+lbs into her arms.

Since my sister's passing, Remi has been directionless. He's with my family, people he trusts, but he's bored, confused, and heartbroken. My sister would often take him to the dog park, social events, on runs, etc. but my parent's can't do that in their age. If my apartment allowed large dogs, I would take him, but I can't, and I see him maybe twice a month if possible.

Ramsey's Christmas List

I made a christmas list for him of things that might help my parents better take care of him. We're trying different food brands out because he struggles with frequent stomach issues, and we can't seem to figure out what food my sister was feeding him. This list is by no means a necessity for him, but I tried to add things to help with his boredom and keep him stimulated when my parents can't give him all their attention.

i do want to state that my family is capable of providing him with the essentials to live, we arent irresponsible. i would just like to help my parents out since a 3 year old 80-90lb doberman is a lot of work to be suddenly placed on them soley. And I worry for his health and well-being sometimes - Remi has a tendency to eat/tear random objects when he's bored.

please consider donating whatever you can. Everything goes directly to him.

thank you for taking the time to read this, and possibly reblog if possible. ❤️

[taxidermycanine]

Hey not sure if this is the right place to ask this but I'm looking for whoever might be able to offer advice. My wife just told me she's therian today (wolf). I'm completely supportive of it of course. As another wolf therian, do you have any suggestions for things I could do to help her feel more comfortable or support her better?

(Anon ask to protect her privacy because she's self conscious about it)

hi! this is absolutely the right place to ask, welcome :o)

this is very sweet of you to do, and i'm sure your wife appreciates you looking more into therianthropy so you can understand her better!

i hope you enjoy this post, and thank you again for this ask! the tips are under the cut

species affirming 101: wolves and other canids

hello there! struggling to figure out ways to affirm your therianthropy because you don't know where to start? or maybe you're someone who knows a critter personally and want to learn how to make them more comfortable around you? then sit down and get comfortable because this is species affirming 101 (with me, the dog).

before we go into it, please note:

not all of these things are for everyone, and that's okay! do what feels right for you.

i will try my best to provide alternatives for any food recommendations for those of you with dietary needs, but apologize in advance if i fail to do so.

that the most important thing to affirm your species is through taking good care of yourself and spending some time outside to ground yourself. sometimes these things take time, they'll come to you eventually.

with that in mind, let's begin with the first tip!

NUMBER ONE: clothing

whether you have shorter or longer fur, this point can help you either way! the human body doesn't grow nearly enough hair to feel comfortable sometimes, which is why i wear clothes that are fuzzy, warm, and the same color as my fur. this is especially helpful in the colder months.

as for the warmer months, i recommend purchasing things such as tail keychains, trimming your nails into claws, drawing paws on your shoes. even meditating in a wooded area can help somewhat (at least in my own experience).

NUMBER TWO: snacks

usually when people think of species affirming snacks their mind immediately goes to something like jerky, and whilst that can help a few folk, in my opinion it's much too gritty for me to enjoy comfortably. i prefer eating slim jims for the saltiness and fall-apart texture. if you can't eat meat for whatever reason, i recommend experimenting with different types of mushrooms. a popular choice for meat imitation is the lions mane mushroom. when cooked a certain way, it's crunchy, filling and has a tender texture.

NUMBER THREE: ambiance

something as simple as putting on a video of nature sounds can make you feel more at home. i recommend mixing this with den making (making your bed feel more like a den by adding lots of blankets, going under them to sleep for coverage, maybe a chair or two to keep the entrance visable. i find having some sort of floor mattress works best for this sort of thing)

NUMBER FOUR: comforts

stuffed animals of your theriotype are always a nice way to feel less lonely, especially if you feel like you're meant to have young. acting like they're your pack, your litter, or simply just your belongings can provide heavy comfort during times of feeling isolated.

if you feel like you shouldn't have stuffed animals because you aren't a domestic breed, you shouldn't worry about that. One, you can do whatever you want forerver. Two, there have been many cases of animals finding things like stuffed animals and playing with them, look at this guy!

NUMBER FIVE: socializing

as canines are social animals, it's important for you to spend time with others, therian or non-therian. if you have human friends, or a human partner, great! if they're comfortable with it, you can have them pet you if you'd like. maybe ask to go on a walk with them for a more discreet option.

i'd also recommend making friends who are also therian so you have others to relate to. it's important to realize that you are not alone in this, and there are so many who feel the way you do right now. if you make some irl, go to the forest together! play in the river! if you're stuck to being online friends for however long, make moodboards! play online games where you can be an animal together! roleplay if that's more your speed! there's plenty to do with loved ones.

for now, that's all i can think of. for the anon though here's a little more just for you, i wish you and your partner the best.

be there for her, tell her that her being a therian doesn't make you love her any less and that you find her therianthropy beautiful. ask her about what she'd like you to do to help with species dysphoria, if she has any. research about her theriotype with her to show her that you care about it. as another wolf therian myself, the thing that helped me the most is having my own partner be there for me. canines are social animals, be social with her.

my love to you both,

bandit

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - Pencil Case

day 1! oh boy oh boy am I excited to be doing this again. <33 @youngroyals-events

Maybe it’s payback for that one time, but Wille is getting tired of Simon stealing all his goddamn pencils.

read below or on ao3 (G, 1.2k)

It’s been nice, it really has, to start at a new public school, with Simon by his side. After all the chaos during their first year at Hillerska, Wille and Simon were very much in need of a typical teenager school experience. 

They could walk down the hallways holding hands and sneak into stairwells to kiss each other senseless during breaks. They were finally a normal couple at a normal school with no more scandals or blackmail or weird ‘på bordet’ traditions. 

Wille loves Simon. Wille loves his boyfriend very much, but his boyfriend can also be a little bit of a shit. 

Three weeks before the new school year started, Wille had gone out shopping for school supplies. Though he encouraged Wille’s excitement, Simon said he didn’t really care about new school supplies. For him, it was a normal yearly activity and nothing to write home about. For Wille, the fact that it was so normal meant it very much wasn’t for him. It didn’t matter he was 17 and had no real use for gel pens or colored flash cards. He wanted to be able to write silly little notes to slip into Simon’s locker and for Simon to have a plethora of options for drawing more doodles on Wille’s skin. He’d even splurged on a pack of very fancy mechanical pencils and his own tin to hold them. (Simon’s is very cool with its little Garfield comic, but Wille thought he could use his own.) 

On the first day of school, he and Simon sat together in their first class of the day, each giddy about the excitement of being in a place where no one really knew about all the drama between them and also didn’t care. 

The teacher started her lecture (no more easy syllabus days as second years), and Simon leaned over and whispered, “Can I borrow a pencil?” 

Wille glanced over. “Where are yours?”

“Forgot them in my locker.”

Nodding and smiling softly, Wille slid over his new pencil case, keeping half his attention on the teacher and half his attention on Simon, as he always did. 

Simon fiddled with the tin for a moment then held it out again, a slight smirk on his face. 

“Can you help me?”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Wille popped it open and offered Simon one of his brand new, very fancy mechanical pencils. If it was anyone else, Wille would’ve been more cautious, but this was Simon, and he could trust Simon. 

Apparently, he could not, because the next day Simon asked for another pencil. 

“What happened to the other one?” Wille asked under his breath, trying not to get them in trouble for talking. “And where is your pencil tin?” 

He smiled sheepishly. “It’s in my locker. Pretty please, Wille.” 

“Yes, alright. Of course, love.” 

It ended up being very much alright, because Simon used that pencil to draw cute doodles and write flirty love notes all over Wille’s notebook. A quite nice use of the fancy pencil, Wille thought. Until, at the end of that class, Wille tried to get his pencil back — it was the purple one, which he really liked — and Simon claimed to need it for the rest of his classes that day. That was fine. He saw Simon all the time. 

Except that whenever he did see Simon, Simon never seemed to have his own damn pencil case with him, much less any of the pencils he’d ‘borrowed’ from Wille — which, by the end of the second week, had racked up to about five. 

But, of course, whenever Wille tried to deny him one:

“Simon, you keep losing them. I’m not giving you another one,” Wille’d say.

“I do not! They’re just on my desk at home. Please, baby,” Simon would beg, pouting out his bottom lip and batting his pretty eyelashes and making Wille putty in his hands. He’d fork over another pencil and Simon would smile all big and Wille would only slightly mourn the inevitable loss of that one, too. If anything, Simon sure knew how to work him with those big brown eyes. 

About a month in, Wille, at the end of his wits and very close to running out of pencils, took matters into his own hands. One day while over at Simon’s house, when he had successfully exhausted his dear boyfriend, Wille secretly swiped Simon’s pencil case and stuffed it in his bag. The next day at school, when he reached into his bag to grab it, it had disappeared somehow. 

He swore when he got to class that day and Simon asked for a pencil, he also had a knowing look in his eye. 

Wille couldn’t prove it, but he was 99% sure Simon was artificially manufacturing his own pencil shortage so that he could borrow them from Wille. 

Through another covert mission, Wille was able to steal Simon’s own pencil tin again and this time he kept a sharp eye on it. On a sunny Friday morning, when Simon slid into class, giving Wille a grin and a kiss on the cheek, then promptly asking for a pencil, Wille brought it out. 

“Found it for you,” he said, smiling sweetly and pretending they hadn’t been having a school supply war for the past few weeks. Simon pouted slightly, glancing at Wille’s pencil case, then begrudgingly took his own and pulled out a plain wooden pencil. 

Wille had less fun in that class. There were no flirty notes and Simon looked so bored with his plain wooden pencil and he didn’t even draw one single penis doodle on Wille’s notebook. That simply wouldn’t do. 

The next Monday, Wille met Simon at his locker. 

“I forgot my pencil case today, but I already borrowed one from Sara,” Simon grumbled, not even looking over. “I won’t be stealing from you today.” 

Wille walked up behind him and wrapped one arm around Simon’s waist, then hooked his chin over his shoulder. His boyfriend relaxed slightly under his grip, though Wille could tell he was still feeling a little spiky. With his other hand, he reached around and presented Simon’s pencil case to him.

“Oh, goodie,” he sighed dramatically, actually sounding quite dejected, then took the pencil case. 

Wille chuckled, using his new free arm to pull Simon even closer. “Open it.” 

“I know what—”

“Just open it,” Wille said, then pressed a soft kiss to the side of Simon’s neck.

He opened it. Inside, there was a brand new set of very fancy mechanical pencils. 

“Some of your very own, so you can stop taking mine.” 

Simon turned around in Wille’s arms so they faced each other, and murmured, “Thank you,” nuzzling his nose against Wille’s. 

Wille smiled. “You’re welcome. I knew you were lying when you said you didn’t care about school supplies. No one is too old for gel pens or dinosaur erasers.” Simon giggled, pulling Wille in for a kiss. 

Once they took a moment to breathe each other in, thankfully in a still mostly-empty hallway, they pulled apart again. 

“Does this mean you’ll start writing me love notes again?” Wille asked hopefully, innocently slipping one hand under his shirt to feel the warm skin there. 

Simon rolled his eyes. “I see. This is all for selfish reasons.” He tapped at his chin thoughtfully. “I sure hope I don’t lose all these new fancy pencils of mine.”

With one small step, Wille pressed Simon back into the lockers, strong hands on bony hips. 

“If you do,” he mumbled, kissing Simon’s forehead, each cheek, and his nose, “I’ll just keep refilling that pencil case of yours. As many pencils as you could dream of.”

[majesty-madness]

A Past Encounter - Bucky Barnes x reader (nsfw) Sneak Peak

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to 1940, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Tagged - @honeyrydernot @spn-obession @tinyminxie @fluffybunnyu @saintmagx @hopelessromantic423 @marygoddessofmischief @theeleggymeggy @lethallyprotected

Commissions are available so don't forget to check that out!

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September 20, 1941.

Y/N could scarcely believe that two months had already passed since she first arrived. In all honesty, it felt so much longer given all that she’s had to adjust to including her new job as an assistant to that lovely old woman, Irene, who’d provided her with brand new clothes when they’d met back in June. 

Never in her life had she ever been an assistant to a seamstress, but it had been a surprisingly fun experience. And it was also thanks to Bucky, once again, that she was able to work now seeing as he had convinced Irene to hire her. Though that didn’t take too much effort, the older woman stated she’d be grateful for the extra pair of hands. 

Speaking of Bucky, there had been an incredibly thick tension growing between them ever since they danced together. 

There was already something going on between them but when Bucky had basically asked Y/N to stay with him, the signs were painfully obvious. 

Every morning, Y/N reminded herself of the sickly sweet lyrics that played as they held each other.

It’s love, this time it’s love

My foolish heart…

Foolish indeed and she knew it, more than anything.

She was torn in two, desperately yearning to reach out and touch him, hold him close as if he were her’s to hold, and at the same time, held back by the years of intimacy with the Bucky she knew from her own time. 

Was it wrong to want Bucky from a time way beyond the moment they’d met? Was it wrong to love the parts of him she never knew? Was it wrong to have the slightest desire to stay?

Y/N shook her head, Stop it!

This was a common occurrence by now, Y/N falling into deep thought while involved in another task at hand, and right now Steve was showing her how to draw. 

“Do you need help with this part, Y/N?” Steve asked, kindly, the hand housing a pencil stopping in mid stroke on the paper. 

She stuttered out a forced laugh, while shaking her head again. “No, no I’m fine, just got lost in thought. Please continue.”

Steve apprehensively nodded though proceeded explaining his sketching technique.

Bucky, sitting at the dinner table watched the pair carefully, the newspaper in his hands stuck on the same page for the last twenty five minutes as he too become lost in thought; a pretty little thought by the name of -

A loud ringing made the trio jump, heads snapping over to look in the direction of the telephone that sat next to the radio. 

“I got it.” Bucky said, already standing up from his chair and walking over to the phone. Without missing a beat, he picked it up and answered with a polite, “Hello?”

After a couple of seconds, Bucky grinned. “Hey, Ma, how are you and Rebecca doing?”

Y/N glanced up at the mention of the name; Rebecca, his sister.

________

a/n: If you've made it down here, then you read the preview so first off; thank you! And second, I need to deeply apologize to those of you who were waiting for this chapter. I know I said that it would be released the 29th and I truly had intended to post it then but as luck would have it, my mental health took a freaking swan dive off a cliff and I found myself struggling just to write this (I'm okay, I promise). My track record with posting on a consistent schedule has always been iffy, and every single time I make a simple goal of what to post and when, something comes along and completely clotheslines me. I'm trying to get better about that, and I've taken steps to reevaluate my goals, and to look into better ways to set a schedule I can stick to. So again, thank you for reading and I'm sorry for the delay. Wishing you a good day!

[atlafan]

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask

“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

**

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

**

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

**

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

[ageravena]

I redesigned Cosmo and Wanda for my FOP: Missionaries of Eden AU

Greetings ladies with gentle hands. I'm back with another batch of epic art now that I'm finally able to draw something other than the same two characters over and over again (read more at the end)

Just so you know, these were just quick sketches I made when I was supposed to sleep and these might not be their final designs.

Here's Cosmo:

Out of the two, Cosmo probably changed the most.

I tried to incorporate elements of his original design into the new one, like his tie, sleeves and umm... his hair? The hair-strands are supposed to be like flames coming out of his inner core (the weird ball I drew next to him that has an arrow pointing at the floating onion rings), if you understand what I'm trying to say.

I originally made him a twink until I remembered that he gave birth that one time. I suppose people can get back into shape after such an event, though I like this version of him better (plus it's show accurate!)

I know real thrones (types of angels) don’t have wings but he looked kinda silly without them. Also the wings make him have a star-shaped silhouette which I think is cute.

Also instead of a wand he has a staff

And then here's Wanda:

Maybe, since now that she has a sword instead of a wand, she should be called Sworda!... please never call her that.

It was a bit harder to incorporate original design elements into this one, so I mostly just went with what seemed fitting.

She also turned into a girlboss. Not that she wasn't already! I just thought it would make sense for her to be physically strong considering she's a power (type of angel).

Her wings also look like a sword... kinda. Her wand is also a sword now!

I didn't feel like drawing her face. It's always a struggle for me to come up with them since my art style is semi-realistic and all. Pick your battles as they say.

I also created some sigils 3 months ago

As per usual, all the mystical creatures in my AU have their own sigils for summoning purposes (inspired by real demon sigils. Look them up, they're super cool). That's why I created a bunch of them for a few important +a few miscellaneous characters, and only now did I realize that I had never posted them anywhere, so here you go:

I'll probably tweak some of these (especially Wanda's and Anti-Wanda's sigils). I'll most likely make more of these since now the vespids (pixies) have kinda important roles, too.

Btw they aren't symmetrical or anything. I just quickly sketched them on MS Paint lmao. Also the light grey lines are just guides and not actually a part of the design.

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

(I tried to make a divider. Idk what it will look like on other devices)

Quick behind the scenes update: After three months of screaming in agony (or five if you include my two previous fixations), I have finally been freed from the chains of being way too obsessed with certain characters without my will... *cough cough*.

Though this might seem sad, worry not, for I persist by literally not caring about what my brain says. I believe it is my duty to continue this legacy I have created and continue drawing wholesome Peri x Dale ship art (+ AU stuff). It is what the fandom really needs during these trying times!

Anyway. Until next time, losertown!

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Tattoo Talk - Indiana Jones X Female Reader

Title: Tattoo Talk

Indiana Jones X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Students (Mentioned)

Requested by: @groovy-lady (Thank you so much for requesting again, I had a lot of fun with this! P.s. love the tattoos!)

WC: 1,666

Warnings: Pre-existing relationship, Reader wears a skirt, Reader has long enough hair to be pinned up, mentions of killing, mentions of death, mentions of slight suggestiveness, slight nudity (brief and nothing really shown?), a smidge of angst, and fluff

"Don't forget Michaelson chapters four and five for next time," Indiana reminded the class as he tapped the chalkboard, his students leaving the room in a hurry. "If you need any help or advice on these two chapters just ask." 

Letting out a sigh, Indiana rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, taking off his glasses and setting them on his desk as he sat down in his chair. Leaning back, Indy grabbed the papers his students left for him, shuffling them in a nice stack before grabbing his glasses again and standing up. Adjusting his suit jacket, Indiana left his classroom, walking a couple of doors down and stopping at your classroom.

Looking inside, Indiana couldn't help but smile gently when he saw you; animatedly speaking about something. Opening the classroom door, Indiana shut it quietly behind him as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched you. You had been dating Indiana for almost a year now, and Indiana was loving every second of it. It felt good to be with someone who was so... Passionate about what they were doing.

"Now, Loki, the God of Mischief, had made a deal with the giant to build a wall around Asgard. In return, the giant wanted to have Freya as his wife. Now, it's said that the Gods didn't know that the giant was indeed a giant, funnily enough, and Freya didn't want to marry him anyway, so she asked Loki to do something; because it was his fault after all. So, Loki turns himself into a beautiful mare, gaining the attention of Svadilfari, the giant's stallion. Loki was able to distract Svadilfari, and off into the forest, he galloped after Loki, the gorgeous mare. Meanwhile, the giant is looking for his horse and tries to kill Odin, but Thor kills the giant. And nine months later, Loki had given birth to a wonderful eight-legged horse named, Sleipnir." You spoke, finishing your little lecture. "If you have any questions, please let me know. And good luck with your midterm presentations.  I'll see you all tomorrow!" Your voice rang out as you waved goodbye to the rest of your students, some of them greeting the other Professor as they left.

Indiana continued to watch you, pretending not to ogle over you as you turned to the chalkboard and began to wipe away your little drawings and notes. Your hair was up in a cute updo, while you were wearing Indy's favorite skirt. Indiana's lovesick sort of smile faltered slightly when he looked at your back, seeing something under your slightly-sheer shirt that confused him; making him curious. Turning back around, you brushed off your hands of any chalk residue before you clasped them in front of yourself, smiling over at your boyfriend.

"Hello, Indy. Didn't know you were going to step in for my lecture today." You greeted him as you walked towards him, reaching out to lightly touch his chest, admiring the man in front of you. Oh, how lucky you were...

"Sorry for interrupting, my class got out and I wanted to see you," Indiana replied, his hands automatically going to your waist.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "Oh, no! You didn't interrupt anything important, I promise!" Indiana just hummed, his eyes half-lidded as he leaned down to press his lips against your lips. You sighed happily in the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled back first, smiling softly at him and kissing his cheek; Indiana sighed contently. "Was my lecture too long or boring?" You murmured, your hands slipping from around his neck onto his chest. "I feel like I ranted."

Indy tapped his fingers to an unknown rhythm on your waist, looking off as if to think, "Hmm, no no, it wasn't bad at all, doll. Quite the opposite actually." You giggled softly, leaning in to peck his lips quickly. "Hey, doll?" He began, a hum coming out of you as you looked up at him; head tilted to the side, "What's on your back?" He then asked and your eyebrows furrowed, as you tried to look behind you, your arm going behind you as you wiped your back. 

"I have something on me? Why did no one say anything?" You asked, slightly frustrated as Indiana just shook his head, reaching for your bicep to stop you.

"No, uh, your shirt's pretty sheer, honey." 

With that, your eyes widened and your face flushed, "Sheer?" You asked softly as Indiana nodded.

"Yeah."

You let out an annoyed sigh, your eyes rolling and your shoulders dropping in defeat. "Are you serious? I wouldn't have worn this if I knew." You complained, pouting slightly at Indiana. "So everyone's seen my tattoo?" You then asked and Indiana's eyebrows raised up on his forehead, eyes widening slightly.

"So that's what that is?" He asked and you nodded slowly. 

"Yeah, I have a couple of them."

Indiana's eyebrows dropped as he stared down at you confused, "How come I've never seen them before?"

You dropped your eyes sheepishly, fumbling with your fingers as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. "Well, Indy, it's usually dark, and I steal your shirt in the morning..." You trailed off as Indiana nodded, feeling his own face warm as he thought back.

"Do you want to see them?" You asked abruptly, making Indiana jolt out of his steamy daydream, making him stubble over his words.

"W... What? Huh?"

You let out a sigh, glaring up at him, "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter, Jones. Do you want to see them or not?" You asked, embarrassed and impatient; crossing your arms.

Indiana pressed his fist to his mouth as he cleared his throat, "Sure, doll."

You nodded, dropping your arms as you walked to the other side of the room, sliding the blinds closed as Indiana watched you, catching a glimpse of your supposed tattoo as he leaned over, pulling the door window's blind closed without looking. Walking back over, you began to unbutton your shirt, Indiana watching as his mouth began to dry. Pulling it off, you hold it draped over your arm as you turn your back to him. Indiana sucked in a breath as he saw it, jaw-dropping slightly as he took in the ink on your back; a large tree, its branches weaving and swirling around themselves, roots spiraling downwards; branches upwards. Though part of it was covered by the back strap of your bra, it had an ancient look to it. If Indiana found it pictured in an old book, he wouldn't be surprised. But, it was mesmerizing, to say the least.

The question floated on the tip of his tongue before you spoke, "It's Yggdrasil. The world tree; a giant ash that supports the universe. Part of Norse Mythology." You answered, hearing the quiet intake of breath as your boyfriend seemed unable to speak. You turned around, biting your lip when you noticed him staring at you in silence. "Uh... I also have two more..." Turning around to face him and open your right arm. At the underside of your arm, was what Indiana knew was a Norse Rune, from his time watching your lectures. This rune was a line with two shorter diagonal lines pointing downwards from the right side; engulfed in flames with a snake surrounding it, "This is the Rune, Ansuz. Odin's Rune." You then opened your other arm, with a different rune on the other side in the same place. To Indiana, it looked like a line with a triangle on it, with gloomy storm clouds and a lightning bolt, “This is Thor’s Rune, Thurisaz." You finished, looking up at Indiana.

He just looked at you, unblinking as he stalked forward, slowly reaching his hand out to take your arm in his. He gently ran a finger over your tattoo, outlining it as he started talking; you could hear the reverence in his tone as he talked. "These are... Incredible." He breathed out, still tracing over the tattoos, before trailing his hand down your arm and taking both of your hands in his as he finally looked into your eyes. "So, Thor and Odin?"

The anxiety that Indiana wouldn’t like your tattoos quickly fell away as you smiled up at him, the smile almost blinding. "Yeah, Odin and Thor. Odin is the God of War, and Thor is the God of thunder.” You stated matter of factly, and Indiana chuckled quietly at the look on your face as you started getting excited; your cheeks burned as you realized just how deep your feelings for Indiana went. "Um, well, I know it sounds sill-"

"When did you get them?" Indiana interrupted you, completely enraptured by you; as you bit your lip before you spoke up again.

"Thor Rune when I was eighteen, Yggdrasil at twenty-two, and Odin at twenty-four. I'm thinking about getting another one soon."

Indiana was quick to speak, looking down at you with excitement that you only saw when he found a missing artifact which really surprised you, "Could I come with you on the next one?" He asked, and you were quick to nod.

"Of course, you can hold my hand and everything." You teased, earning a playful glare from him as he rolled his eyes. You couldn't help but laugh, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles softly as he smirked down at you. "Are we still on for lunch?" You asked, and Indiana nodded, taking your shirt from your arm, and opening it to you. 

"Of course, doll. In fact, lunch is on me." He teased, helping you put on your shirt, your arms passing through the sleeves as you giggled.

"You always pay for lunch, Indy." You gave him a smile in thanks, buttoning up the shirt as Indiana went over to your desk, grabbing your suit jacket and bag.

"That's because I love to spoil you, sweetheart. So... How do you feel about a surprise trip to Iceland?"

[heartlessfujoshi]

reality can wait - an ignoct one shot

Title: Reality Can Wait Fandom: FFXV Pairing: IgNoct (Ignis Scientia x Noctis Lucis Caelum) Rating: Explicit (NSFW - Explicit Sexual Content - Blow Jobs - Anal Sex - Minor Angst with a Happy Ending) Word Count: ~4600

Summary: Ignis enters into a complicated relationship with the crowned Prince of Lucis, Noctis Lucis Caelum.

A/N: Hello! Here is my gift for the lovely @brigriv for the @ignoctgiftexchange. They had the following request - prefer submissive/compliant Ignis and possessive Noctis. ^^ Could be lighthearted or more serious!

Please enjoy!

---

Gentle fingers comb through his hair, quick to turn rough which draws a rich moan from Ignis’ chest. He tilts his head back, the moan becoming richer as that tight hold on his follicles continues, rousing him from the light sleep he’d fallen into. He shifts his weight on the bed, pushing himself down onto his stomach, making his intentions clear to the person who is pulling his hair with a roughness that is making him painfully hard. 

He exhales another deep moan as he feels the weight he’d been hoping for touch his back. Pushing his hips back, he feels something long and stiff slip between his asscheeks. “Someone wants it bad tonight, don’t they?” Lips touch his ear, as the hand in his hair returns to pulling with that same roughness that Ignis craves. 

“C-Can you blame me?” Ignis pushes his hips back, groaning as a hand forces his hips to stop moving, keeping him locked in place. “Noctis…” He begs the Prince, who only grips his hair harder, forcing his shoulders to rise up off the bed as he’s toyed with. 

“You’ll get what you want soon enough, Specs.” Noctis releases the grip he has on Ignis’ hip, allowing him to wiggle suggestively as he can feel his stiff cock pushing between his cheeks. “Now, tell me again what I want to hear.” 

Heat rushes through his body as he struggles to concentrate on what Noctis wants. All that’s going through his mind right now is how good his body feels, and how good it feels to be in this position with the crowned Prince of Lucis. “Please, Your Highness…” 

“Ignis.” 

The tone that Noctis uses to say his name makes his stomach roll, and his cock drip with precum. “You’re the only person I desire.” He whispers his mantra to Noctis. “The only person I see in a crowded room.” 

“Don’t you forget it.” 

Ignis tosses his head back with a loud moan as Noctis’ cock pushes back into his body, stretching his inner walls to their limit. Closing his eyes, he sinks back down into the bed, and readies himself for the ride that he knows Noctis is about to take him on. 

***

~Five Months Ago~

“Hey, Ignis. Got a second?” 

Lifting his head up, he sees Gladio standing at the door to his office. A sharp pain goes through his chest, but as quick as it appears, it disappears. “Of course, Gladiolus. What can I do for you this afternoon?” 

“The Prince is being a brat again.” Gladio walks into the room, and shuts the door with a firm click. 

A year ago, if Gladio had done such a thing, Ignis would have soon found himself on his knees, worshiping the piece of flesh that was hidden by clothing. They’d had a good run together - it had been a whirlwind of a romance. One night at a party, Gladio had invited him back to his place, and one thing led to another. Ignis had gotten his first taste of needing to be submissive to his lover through his relationship with Gladio. Day in and day out, he was responsible for so much, that being able to do the complete opposite in the bedroom had been a startling revelation. Luckily, Gladio had shown him how easy it was to get into that frame of mind. That only lasted for so long, though, as their duties made it clear that their relationship was always doomed for failure. 

It didn’t help much either that Ignis had always had his eye on a certain individual. The same individual that Gladio is now complaining about, and who he has plans on seeing in a couple of hours. 

Pushing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose, he leans back in his chair. “You know that he does this to taunt you. To get a rise out of you.” 

“Well, it’s working.” Gladio drops down into the chair in front of his desk, making himself comfortable. “What he needs is to get laid.” 

Ignis’ cheeks flare with heat at the comment, quickly turning his head as to not show Gladio how that comment affects him. “Not all of us are as lucky in that department as you are, Gladiolus.” Ignis clears his throat, hoping that it doesn’t cause Gladio to question him. 

“Tsch. I’m not doing so hot right now.” Gladio leans his head back to look up at the ceiling. “I’m serious, though, Ignis. That kid needs to figure shit out fast, otherwise he’s going to be insufferable when we head out to Altissiaa to meet up with Lunafreya.” 

“I’ll be sure to address it with him when I meet with him later.” Ignis returns to looking at his computer monitor, needing to distance himself a bit from his ex-lover, who thankfully is still looking up at the ceiling. “Is there anything else bothering you, or is it only Noctis?” 

Gladio sits up and flashes a grin at him. “Is there anything else besides the brat? Nah. Just him.” Ignis rolls his eyes, but offers a half-smile to Gladio, who takes it upon himself to stand back up. “Thanks for listening to me vent, Ignis.” 

“My door is always open to you, Gladiolus. You know that.” He pauses his reading to look back at Gladio, who has opened the door and is on his way out of his office. 

“I know.” Gladio nods his head towards him, then exits his office. 

A long sigh leaves his mouth as he realizes that he’s going to have to talk with Noctis about his behavior. Which causes another wave of heat to hit him, as he knows where it will undoubtedly lead. He closes his eyes, and places his hands on his desk. Yes, he will talk to Noctis, but Ignis knows that it won’t do any good. 

***

“Are you coming up?” Noctis asks, as Ignis pulls into the garage of where Noctis’ apartment is. It’s only a few blocks from the Citadel, but it’s also about four miles away from where he lives. “Thought we were going to have dinner together tonight.” 

He grips the steering wheel with a bit more pressure than necessary. “If I come upstairs, it will be strictly as a business matter.” He wants Noctis to understand that they need to draw some lines. “Are you okay with this, Your Highness?” 

“Of course, Specs. Why would I not be?” Noctis smiles, and it hits him in a way that makes the world disappear for a quick second. “Let’s order pizza, and I promise we can go over the data I know you’ve been hounding me about.” 

“Very well.” 

Parking the car in his usual spot, Ignis follows the Prince up to his apartment. As soon as the door shuts, though, whatever sort of agreement they’d come to in the car is soon forgotten about as Ignis is pushed up against the wall by Noctis’ magic, and then feels his lips connect to his with a strong kiss that Ignis can’t ignore. 

Hearing Gladio talk about how the Prince needs to be laid had almost blown his own secret. No one in the kingdom knows that he’s engaging in what some might call a risque relationship with the Prince of Lucis. Ignis knows that it’s not the best thing, not when the Prince is betrothed to someone else. Not just any person either - the Oracle that protects the population at large from the Scourge. Because of course he has to jump from one complicated relationship into a much more complicated relationship. 

But, by the Six, Noctis truly knows how to kiss. 

He moans into his mouth, lifting his arms up to put them around Noctis’ neck, as the Prince moves his body to be closer to his own. Ignis finds himself slipping, his own neediness of wanting to be everything the Prince needs taking over him completely. He leans his head back, Noctis breaking off the kiss to leave marks on his neck. Marks that will be gone by the morning, as Ignis has stockpiled elixirs in his apartment for that very reason. 

“N-Noctis.” He moans, his fingers digging into his shoulder as he tries to keep himself steady. Noctis’ hips roll into his own, their clothed cocks coming together. He releases a shuddering sigh, the physical need to be with the Prince becoming one he can no longer ignore. 

“Did Gladio come and see you today?” Noctis murmurs into his ear, as his hand finds its place on top of Ignis’ cock. “He left pretty quickly when I was being a brat to him.” 

“Y-You were doing it intentionally?” A sharp gasp leaves his mouth, then quickly turns into a moan as Noctis’ fingers wrap around his girth. He pushes against his hand, aching in all the right places. “Why?” 

“I can’t stand knowing he’s slept with you.” 

Ignis’ stomach drops to the floor, and all thoughts leave his head as he stares into Noctis’ eyes. “Does it bother you that much?” 

“I don’t want anyone else touching you.” Noctis gives his cock a good hard squeeze, making stars dot in his vision, a wanton moan dripping from his lips at the way Noctis is behaving. It’s exhilarating. It’s intoxicating. 

It’s what he’s always desired.

Ignis groans as Noctis pulls his hand away, and brings it up to his lips. He licks each finger tip with a slow, purposefully stroke, all the while keeping his eyes locked onto Noctis’. “I’m yours,” he whispers. “Only yours.” 

“I know.” Noctis pushes his hand to be against the nape of his neck, Ignis closing his eyes as another rough kiss touches his lips. “Come to bed with me.” 

“I will.” There is no other place he would rather be. 

A button flies off of his shirt as Noctis tugs hard on the tie that’s around his neck. Ignis puts his hands on the hem on Noctis’ shirt, pulling it over his head as his own button up shirt is pulled off of his arms. Pants are next, and then socks and underwear are removed. Ignis gets on his knees, his lips coming into direct contact with the tip of Noctis’ cock, who holds it to be against his lips. 

“Show me that you’re mine, Ignis.” Noctis’ voice is rich with lust, lust that he can feel burning hot in his own veins. “Prove it to me.” 

He puts his mouth around the tip of his cock, and begins to suck on it with an eagerness that should shame him. He’s acting like a horny teenager, when he’s anything but that. There’s something about the way that Noctis wishes to possess him, like he’s an object and not a person, that really drives him to the brink of insanity. No one has ever wanted him like that, and to have it be Noctis? Ignis can’t help but submit himself to him, as it’s all he’s ever wanted in his life. 

Noctis pushes more of his cock into his mouth, and rather than fight it, he rolls with it, moaning low as the thick appendage is pushed back and forth against his own tongue. Ignis palms his cock, then drops his hand back down, knowing that Noctis is no doubt staring at the way precum is dripping from the tip. Both of his hands are on Ignis’ head, controlling his every move. 

“Suck harder, Specs.” Noctis commands him, and he does as he’s asked. “Yes, like that. More, Specs. Suck on it more.” 

Drool spills past his lips as he bobs his head to the tempo that Noctis sets. His eyes roll back as the tip of Noctis’ cock pushes against the back of his throat. He can feel him throbbing against his tongue, and knows that he’s soon going to be swallowing his thick cum. The hands on his head pull hard on his hair as a warning, and then Ignis is gulping down the Prince’s release, savoring the way his spunk sticks to his tongue before sliding down his throat. 

Looking up at him, he has difficulty seeing him but smiles anyway. “Is that enough, my Prince?” He knows it won’t be. It won’t be enough until Ignis is screaming his name, over and over, as he’s made to endure the way Noctis likes to fuck. 

“No.” 

It’s music to his ears, as Noctis wipes his lips with the pad of his thumb. Ignis opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, as he knows the cum Noctis has wiped up belongs on his tongue. He leaves it there for a moment, knowing that Noctis is watching, and swallows it with a pleased smile on his lips. 

Noctis pulls him up off the floor, and over to the bed, where he’s made to lay face down, his body bent in half as his feet stay on the carpet. He moans low as Noctis teases him with the tip of his cock, pushing it against his twitching hole. Warm lube drips onto his ass, and he feels Noctis smear it on him with the tip of his cock. 

“Tell me you want it, Ignis.” Noctis’ chest is now pressed against his back, while Ignis is struggling to stay present as the entire act of submission is making him feel high. “Tell me this is what you want.” 

“I w-want it.” He begs him without any shame. “Give it to me, Noctis.” 

“How bad?” Noctis teases him with the tip some more, making him salivate as his hips try to lift up and get the tip to push a little deeper inside of his body. “How bad, Ignis?” 

“Bad.” He whines, pushing his hips back. “I only want you, Noctis!” 

“That’s better.” Warm breath hits his ear. “Your cock is mine, Ignis.” 

A shuddering moan leaves his mouth as Noctis drills his cock home into his ass. A deep, satisfied moan comes out next, as he pushes his hips back to feel more of that thickness penetrate him. “Yours…” 

The Prince pulls his hips up, pushing his cock even deeper into his body. Ignis wails, his body feeling like it’s being split in two with how rough Noctis is being. All he can do is hang on for dear life, letting go all of the stress from the day as it disappears through this carnal act of sex. Noctis wraps his fist around Ignis’ cock and begins to pump his thickness, Ignis receiving pleasure on both sides. It’s enough to push him firmly over the edge, a rich cry leaving his mouth as he ascends into beautiful oblivion. 

“Yes, Ignis.” Noctis speaks into his ear. “Now come again. For me. Only me.” 

Ignis proceeds to come two more times, as Noctis draws it out of him with expert touches and pivotal thrusts. He’s a verifiable mess by the time he feels Noctis’ warm cum coating his inner walls, the deep moan ringing in his ears as Noctis spills his seed inside of him. He falls onto the bed, panting hard as sweat covers his entire body, thoroughly spent. 

He’s moved to lay on his back by gentle hands, Noctis’ lips now leaving kisses all over his face as he slowly comes down from his sexual high. He moans softly, loving the touches that the Prince bestows upon him. He remembers the first time they’d done something like this - it had only been a few weeks ago, and it had happened purely by accident. One minute they were in a heated argument, and the next, Ignis was submitting himself to Noctis, doing whatever the Prince requested of him. And now, here they are, still going as strong as they had that very first time. 

Noctis pulls him to rest on his chest, which he does with a soft sigh. “Are we going to be able to do this when we go on our trip?” Noctis asks, his fingers now idly playing with the hair on the back of his neck. 

“We will need to be careful.” Ignis nods, knowing that there is no way they can stay apart from each other. Not when they both have such a deep need for the other. “Things may get a little difficult when we make it to Altissia.” 

Holding his breath, he waits to see how Noctis will respond, and hears him exhale a soft sigh. “Right. The engagement.” 

“We don’t have to discuss it right now.” He can tell the Prince doesn’t want to face reality. In truth, neither does he. But he knows that the Prince of Lucis has an obligation, and while it is not in his favor, he understands that this is how it needs to be. 

“Good. I don’t want to think about it.” Noctis touches his face, drawing his attention to look into his eyes. “Kiss me, Ignis? Kiss me, and show me again how you’re mine?” 

He shifts his position, slowly arranging himself to be straddling Noctis’ hips, as he brings his head closer to him. “It will be my pleasure, Your Highness.” 

They speak no more about Altissia, and the things to come, and instead find solace in the way their bodies behave when connected to one another. 

xXx 

The death of Regis comes to a shock to them all. Ignis can see Noctis is fighting to keep his composure, when all he wants for him to do is show his anger. Show his emotions. So he isn’t at all surprised when Noctis suggests to Prompto and Gladio that they go and spend the night on the beach, allowing him to have his space. 

“Specs will keep an eye on me.” Noctis tells them, as they both look a little skeptical. “Right?” 

He nods his head, and looks at Gladio. “It will be alright, Gladiolus. Return tomorrow morning for breakfast. We’ll head back to Insomnia together.” 

“Alright, fine.” He can tell Gladio doesn’t want to leave, not when the news of their home being sabotaged in the way it had been. “Call if you need us to come back.” 

Noctis nods. “We will.” 

“You sure, Noct?” Prompto asks, as he approaches his best friend. “This news…” 

“It’s okay.” Noctis rubs his temple. “I need to be alone for a bit.” 

“Okay.” 

Ignis watches the two of them leave their suite. As soon as the door closes, he prepares himself for what will happen next. “Ignis.” Noctis sounds broken, which hurts his heart. But he knows what the Prince needs right now, as it will be something familiar. Something that can carry him on to the next part of this madness. 

“Let’s go to bed.” Ignis offers his hand to Noctis, who takes it without a word, and they head to the bedroom together. 

There is no need for submission tonight, as he knows he has to take care of the Prince. But in doing so, it’s his own way of showing his desire to his lover. Noctis lays on top of him, and he lets the Prince take him, over and over, as they both cling to each other. Some might call it an act of love, but Ignis knows better. Ignis knows that this is what they both need right now. Their home is gone; the King is dead; but this - this is something that can never be taken away from either of them. 

He clings to Noctis as he comes for him, again and again. Noctis thrusts into him over and over, their bodies fused together as they chase after the sexual high, needing it tonight. And as they finish, Ignis holds Noctis in his arms, as the Prince mourns the loss of his father, and the loss of their King. 

xXx 

“Luna is gonna be so happy to see you!” Prompto teases the Prince from the front seat of the Regalia, his camera in his hand. “Are you excited?” 

“Yes.” Noctis answers with a stoic look on his face. 

Ignis snorts. He can tell when the Prince is lying. “Why don’t we go up to Lestallum tonight?” He suggests. “We have plenty of gil now.” 

“Why are you even asking?” Gladio groans from the backseat. “Let’s go! I want to sleep in a nice bed tonight.” 

“More like you want to dick down on some of those girls, am I right, big guy?” Prompto teases Gladio, who doesn’t bother to deny it. “I, too, vote for Lestallum.” 

“Your Highness?” He asks, as he looks at Noctis through the rearview mirror. “It’s your call.” 

“What’s another day?” Noctis nods. “Lestallum it is.” 

They travel to Lestallum, arriving just as the sun begins to set. Ignis heads to one of the stalls, and begins to bargain with the woman who is running it. He turns on his charm, smiling at her in a way to help get himself a better deal on the spices he’s haggling for. She falls for it, and he is quick to pay her before it wears off. She invites him to dinner, which he politely declines, as he has someplace he has to be. 

As he heads away, he sees Noctis is standing there, his arms crossed over his chest and has a sour look on his face. Ignis immediately regrets what he’s just done to save a little money, but surely Noctis can’t be upset about this, can he? They keep delaying their return to the lighthouse, which is where the boat that will take them to Altissia is.

He looks at him, and then moves past him. If he wants to act this way, fine. He will explain himself later. If Noctis has been listening, he will have heard him turn down the offer for dinner. 

They had separate suites this time - Gladio is bunking down with Prompto, while Ignis is with Noctis. Because that’s how it always is. He is always by his side. While he may be his Adviser, the real reason he stays by his side is because he is in love with him. The only person he sees is Noctis. 

“What was that about?” Noctis is already back in the hotel room, no doubt getting back before him by using his Armiger. “Huh, Ignis?” 

“I’m not sure what you’re asking.” Ignis plays dumb, knowing that it might be his demise but it’s already too late to go back. 

“I saw you.” 

“You saw me?” He turns towards the Prince, who is now glaring at him with an anger he can feel in his gut. “You saw me purchase some spices to make the meals that you like?” He pulls them from his pocket, showing the Prince. 

“I saw you flirting with that woman.” Noctis spits out the last word as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. 

“I was getting a better deal.” 

“So, you’re admitting you were flirting?” 

“And if I am?” 

Noctis moves across the room in the blink of an eye. Ignis steps back, his back now pressed against the wall as the Prince stares deep into his soul. “No one gets to flirt with you, Ignis. Only me.” 

“You.” He seethes, glaring right back at him. “You don’t get to tell me how to act, Your Highness.” 

“You’re mine!” Noctis bangs his hand against the wall next to where his shoulder is. “No one else’s!” 

“How convenient, when you belong to someone else already.” He returns. 

Blue eyes widen, and then narrow. “How dare you.” 

Ignis pushes him away, and heads over to the small kitchenette, where he puts the spices he’d procured down. “I know this is difficult for you to hear, Noctis, but you need to hear it. It isn’t fair that you get to act this way when we both know you are engaged to be married soon.” 

“Stop.”

“I will not.” Ignis keeps his back turned, feeling it would be easier to speak than look directly at Noctis. “Yes, I will always be yours. But you have never been mine.” 

“That isn’t true!” Noctis exclaims. “Ignis, you don’t believe that, do you?? You know I love you!” 

“You love the idea of me. You love possessing me.” Ignis’ shoulders drop as he feels his own stomach start to twist in on itself. “But you’re in love with your future bride.” 

“Stop!” Noctis repeated, this time as an angry shout. “Don’t do this, Specs!” 

Ignis leaves the room, and goes to the bedroom he’s sharing with Noctis. Two strong hands touch his waist, and force him to turn around as Noctis pulls him into a hug. He struggles for a second, but then stops as he falls against his body, a rough sob leaving his mouth as he clings to him. 

“It’s okay, Ignis.” Noctis whispers into his ear. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not.” He shakes his head, his sobs continuing. “This isn’t fair, Noctis. I love you. I want to be with you, and only you. You know that I’m yours. I’ve always been yours.” He lifts his head, tears still streaking down his cheeks as he locks eyes with Noctis. “And yet, you question me. Why?” 

“Because I’m afraid.” 

“Of what?” 

“Of you leaving me.” 

“Oh, Noctis.” He shakes his head. “I will never leave you. I told you, I’m yours. For better or worse.” 

The Prince wipes away the tears on his face, and holds his head with both of his hands. “I love you, Ignis. I belong to you.” 

“You belong to Lunafreya.” Ignis refutes, shaking his head with a sad sigh. 

“Not anymore.” 

Noctis kisses him with a passion of a thousand suns. Oh, the Six, how Ignis has longed for a kiss like this from him. It carries all the weight of his feelings in it, and he returns it with an equal amount of excitement. If Noctis is telling the truth, then this is it. Now he truly belongs to him, and vice versa. 

Their kiss comes to an end with Noctis getting on one knee. “Be mine forever, Ignis.” He pulls a plain silver band out of his pocket. “I need you. I love you.” 

“I will.” More tears fall, but these are much different than the ones that had fallen upon his return from the night market. 

They resume kissing each other, and then the Prince guides him to lay down on the bed, then flips him over to be on all fours as that is Ignis’ favorite position to be in. He moans loud and long as Noctis pushes into him, his head spinning from both excitement and desire. The simple gold band sparkles in the soft light of the room, his fingers digging into the sheets as Noctis’ cock fills his ass. 

He moans over and over, as he submits himself fully to Noctis, who makes him come three times before giving him the satisfaction of being able to feel his own release deep inside of him. He begs him for more, and so they go at it again, the two of them thirsty for each other, now that they know they are each other’s. 

***

The night market is still in full swing as Noctis’ chest presses against his back, the two of them coming down from another delicious sexual high. “Are you sure about this, Noctis?” Ignis asks, as Noctis is touching the ring he’d put on his finger only a few hours ago. 

“Yes, Specs.” Noctis nods his head, giving him a strong smile. “Luna will understand. She knows how much I care for you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

After a few more slow kisses, Ignis rolls onto his side and feels the Prince press up against his back. “How about we stay here for a few more days?” Noctis’ voice rumbles into his ear. “Please, Ignis?” 

“We might have to take another hunt to afford living here for a few more days.” Ignis hums softly, pressing  back against the warmth of Noctis’ body. 

“I’ll gladly go on as many hunts as necessary if it means we get to stay here longer.” A kiss brushes his cheek, then Ignis turns his head to meet Noctis’ lips with his own. “Don’t say no to me, Ignis.” 

He smiles, looking into Noctis’ eyes. “We’ll prepare for the hunt tomorrow morning.” 

“Good.” Noctis grins, and then kisses him again. The kisses lead to more delicious things, Ignis moaning into Noctis’ mouth as he’s made to come again and again. As Noctis falls asleep, he listens to him breathing and smiles to himself. 

Ignis knows that there is still a lot they need to deal with, but he will live in this bliss for a little bit longer. Reality can wait a few more days. 

---

Cross-posted to AO3

[runninguplenorahills]

Ayyeee, I missed you too!!💗💓💕💗💓💕💗

So glad you’re doing good🌷

Ohhh, a friend of mine is taking driving classes rn as well! Most of my other friends already have their driver’s license but only one/two of them actually drive regularly. As for me….. I’m actually terrified of cars and traffic so I won’t be getting my driver’s license ever I think 🥶. The evening classes do sound inconvenient af so I’m wishing you an extra amount of luck for your those and the tests!💕

My sleep schedule is also out of this world in the worst possible way so I feel you sm! It’s always easier to fuck it up more than to even just make it okay again. Uni starts again on Tuesday and my sleep schedule is not prepared but maybe that’ll be my motivation to improve it hahaha. I want to be hopeful and say we’re both gonna fix our sleep schedules🥲💞

Nothing is getting done in this house either if I’m not the one doing it 💀. My mom had a week off work and planned to clean up our little balcony which kinda has been used as storage space for the past five years but she didn’t so we’re gonna do it together tomorrow. Or I guess I will do it.

Sorry but your grandma’s cat sounds like a demon😭. I hate when cats scratch because I actually love cats and I adore patting and playing with them but I’m fucking allergic and there’s only so much I can endure 😀. Burning cuts and breaking out in hives is where I draw the line. I hope you can give her all the cuddles she needs without having to suffer too many injuries 💀. Death by cat is what we want to avoid hahhaha.

OMG! I just applied to a job and I left my phone number and my email address…. so tell me why they insisted on calling me instead of just sending an email?!? I HATE phone calls 🥶. Death by phone call is more likely it seems but I hope you can exposure therapy your way through this! I believe in you!💞💕💗💓

Oh yes, I noticed you were tumblrina-ing less than usual hahah. I would say I’ll update you if anything big happens but as Uni starts again next week I will probably dip again 😗👍.

I’ve been doing pretty great though! My finals went well (except for biology which I didn’t take) and I applied for art school which is incredibly exciting!!!!! Haven’t heard anything from the school yet but I can wait (as of rn but in a month I’ll probably rip out my hair over not having received anything yet haha). I already thought about posting the stuff I drew for my art portfolio on tumblr but idk how smart of a choice that is (I mean, my current banner is one of the works I put into my portfolio so I guess I already kinda crossed that line but I think I’ll wait with the other drawings). I’ll do it after the school has contacted me again :))!

I’m also finally seeing the sun again (give me all the vitamin D please) so my mental health is improving as well🌞. Im also actually so excited for Uni to start again with the lack of biology courses and the insane amount of English courses I’ll be taking and the fact that it’s gonna be good weather again and I’ll be able to meet up with people from Uni at the city’s central park and anywhere really and I hope I’ll make friends eventually 🌷. I already met some cool peeps but I haven’t had the courage to ask anyone to spend time outside of Uni yet :/. Been doing some reflecting on why that is and damn, past friendships really fucked me up big time💀. So I’m planning to be more open and take more initiative with friendships next semester and I’m very excited about that!

Oh and I’ve been reading more again!! Matter of fact, I should probably keep reading “Persuasion” now because I fear I’m headed into a reading slump as a result of being on tumblr again 💀. But it’s also so so nice to be back and interact with people💕💞💓💗💕💞💓💗💕

Hello, how are you doing?🌷💓🌞

omgggg lenora you're backkkk hiiiii 🥰🥰💞💗 i missed seeing you on the dash the past weeks so much 💕💕💕🫂

i'm doing good right now actually! (putting a read more here in hindsight because of the ramble lmaoooo)

i'm doing a course to start taking driving classes. which... happens to be in the evening so that does kind of suck actually. but yk exciting to finally get it out of the way! and i'm also almost done with it by now, there's only this week (including the weekend uhm) and part of next week left and then i'll have a normal schedule again akdfhad

(i usually have an atrocious sleep schedule but somehow being out until almost 10 and having to eat dinner then is fucking it up even more. good to know a bad sleep schedule can always be worse if you try hard enough🙏, maybe that'll finally motivate me to improve it when i'm done with the course crying)

and i'm also crossing some things off the list of chores no one in the family has done in ages since i've accepted they're not happening otherwise. like taking my grandma's cat who didn't see a vet in almost 10 years to one last week and she shockingly didn't try to kill me!! (surprising because she's genuinely insane. there's baby photos of her trying to bite people's arteries open. i love her and she has issues. she's cute too, no matter how many of my relatives think she's butt ugly, it adds to her charm. she does look weird tho i admit that. also really fat, big girl, i had to buy a whole new carrier to even fit her into it 😭) big fat cat who hunts mice for fun, looks weird as hell, loves biting people and is also the most touch starved cuddly cat i know, she contains multitudes

she's fine but i'll have to take her again in a few weeks, i'm convinced she'll return to her killer roots now that she remembers what a transport carrier looks like. but i'll just be optimistic about it until her teeth are in my arm 👍

byproduct of that is also that i'm trying to exposure therapy my way through my crippling fear of making phone calls to officials and doctors and so on. thanks insane cat of my grandma 💗 it's a process but it's definitely getting easier

also side effect from all that is that i haven't really been on tumblr much the past 2 weeks either (i mean i say that, i am actually still on here but i usually just scroll and don't have time to reblog/post when i'm on the go. tumblrina is a chronic condition for me i fear)

but there's also not been that much production news for ST or anything i could have missed out on so good timing :D

this is kind of a ramble of what i've been up to adfkjadfj how are You?💞 it's so nice to have you back on the dashhhh

[moonttaeil]

i've been waiting for you;

▶ Pairing: Jaehyun x reader. 

▶ Word count: 5k.

▶ one shot; very angsty; talks of violence; talks of domestic violence;if you're not comfortable of the idea of Y/N being abused please do not read; it does not have a very happy ending; im sorry; it has both jaehyun and Y/N pov's; (also jaehyun is not the abuser pls dont be scared)

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, still not looking at me. Something inside of me broke, scratched my organs, and made me bleed. Something inside of me cried out, harder than when receiving blows on my ribs. Something inside of me died the moment I heard his empty voice. I kept silent but he did not say anything else. It was an ending sentence, for me, for him, for what he could’ve been. We both knew, but we were both too scared to say it out loud. 

The first time I found myself in front of her the world around me fell. It is blurry, and I hope someday I’m able to make out what my thoughts on that precise moment were, but for now, all I know is her bright red lipstick draws me in like a month to a flame. Oh, what a flame she was. 

Her eyes silently called my way and my feet moved, pulled by the inevitable forces, a magnet she held close to her heart, hidden from the outside world, only felt by my hands that itched to touch her skin, burn themselves while trying to hold her near me, burn myself to ashes while trying to conquer something that was way out of my reach. 

It was a dark night. Not even the stars had shown up for our meeting. Her smile made up for that, although she was not keen to show it to me. Her lips moved; I heard her voice. I was entranced. I was hypnotized. I was immediately obsessed. Was she aware of how her presence affected me? If she was, she did not show a sign of it, not a flinch, not an intimidating glance. 

Somehow her glass was always full. She drank, and the moisture left behind on the edges of her mouth begged me to come closer. The stains on her glass, red, passionate, every second farther from me. I remember I answered her every question, I tried to be gentle, not raising my voice through the loudness of the bar. She seemed to be able to hear my every word, even the whispers that escaped from between my lips without my permission. 

I do remember the first time I saw her—I hoped to one day to forget. 

I always anticipated her entrance, and sometimes I was left only with broken hopes. She appeared and disappeared from time to time, leaving me wanting more, craving her presence. “I’ve been waiting for you” I would mutter out when she spent more than five days without checking by the bar, our place, our seats secretly reserved for ourselves. She would smile at me, slightly, almost imperceptible to the human eye. 

“Careful with waiting too long,” she would say, “some people become ghosts of the past while holding tightly on a dead idea.” 

I should’ve listened. 

Although we always sat by one another and talked, it had been the fifth time I saw her that I asked her the name that would stick with me for the rest of the years I had left to live. “Y/N,” she said, and I dreamt with her voice repeatedly. She did not ask back, and I felt uncomfortable. I wanted her to know—I needed her to think about it, to put a name on my face, to dream with it. “Jaehyun,” I answered back, trying to remain complete after being broken so many times by her eyes. 

She hummed in response. “I know.” I never asked how. 

Eventually, she decided to let me into her world. We stumbled out of the bar, her arm was wrapped around mine, trying to steady herself while she laughed at something, anything. Her eyes were shining so bright that night, the stars never dared to appear in her presence again. I couldn’t deny what was obvious, her trap for me had worked, excellently. Brilliantly. Her feet couldn’t walk straight, and in the end, I found a way to keep her on her feet without falling, dangling from my side. She never stopped laughing. 

“You drank more than usual tonight,” I commented, with no malice. No second intention. She was happy—disoriented, but happy. I was content to be able to spend time with her. She stopped and looked up at me, the remains of her happiness still written all over her forehead, cheeks, and chin. It was a second later, she sat on the curb, her knees finding their way to her chest. 

“Sometimes I feel like…” her voice trailed off, her eyes getting lost somewhere in the dark, in front of her, “like I have a lot of important things to say,” she muttered. I stood beside her, still on my feet, uncomfortable, trying to understand her mind. I realized I was still very far from the world inside of her body. “I know I have important things to say,” she repeated, but she was not talking to me, directly. “I simply…” a sigh, “don’t know what they are, yet.”

“It is hard to translate feelings into words.”

I sat beside her, in silence. My back hurt due to the position; she forced a smile back at me. 

“It’s not feelings,” she said, “a long time ago I had those, you know?” her question was not meant to be answered. Not by me. I listened. “Long time ago, when my body was not bruised, when my life was not threatened—when I was actually obsessed with living, with waking up, I was that girl.” 

In my eyes, she was still that girl. 

She kept quiet, reminiscing about the past. Her memories. 

“What happened to her?” I asked. I thought about it for a moment—if she ever was more, more, more than what she was now than what I only knew of her, my heart would not have been able to take it. Her eyes darted to me before moving slowly to look down.

“She…”

No words were needed for her to explain. She was dead, her old self, the young girl that wanted to eat the whole world before it eats her. She was dead, buried under the new Y/N that had risen to protect the corpse, the soul, the passion. “I just wish I could stop missing the old version of me,” she whispered before standing up. 

That night she left alone. I could’ve jumped right after her, I could’ve followed, and may be accompanied her back home. Everyone knew the streets were not safe at night, with dark alleys, and hungry eyes. I could’ve offered a helping hand. A conversation back home. But I did not. Instead, I stayed where I had been sitting by her side. Her presence lingered behind me, even when my eyes followed every step of her body leaving me behind. 

She did not come back for two weeks. 

When I saw her again, there was no trace left of the sour conversation we have had the last time. Instead, she smiled, sat by me, and told me what a stressful day she had had. I listened to her, being back next to her lifting my spiring at last. As usual, I said, “I’ve been waiting for you,” she hummed. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I waited for you too?” she had asked. 

I knew that was not possible. She was not obsessed – not anymore, -- with herself, as I was. It was a dangerous thought and feeling. I was playing with fire every time I saw her enter the bar. I was burning my fingers every time I let her smile at me. I was consuming my soul every time we left together, and let her go alone, leaving me behind. I was aware I would end up cremated, somehow, because of her. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” I once asked. We were outside the bar. It was late, as usual. Her eyes looked up at me, surprised. I had been gathering the courage to ask her that question for the last four months, ever since the first time, I saw her. That night she wore a leather jacket, bruises hidden from anyone near her. I knew her answer. 

“You know I can’t,” and I knew she couldn’t. She had never explicitly said it out loud, it would damage the little bubble we have both threaded with caution, not overstepping the limits we have imposed for one another. I sighed, defeated one more time. It hurt to know that I’d always be at an arm-length distance from her, inevitably. She sensed the discouragement. She knew she was walking on a thin line; she was scared, and she was scatred. She could lose me the same I could lose her. 

I couldn’t be sure who would be losing more. 

“I want…” she whispered. 

“I know.”

It was a difficult situation for her to be carrying on her shoulders. I knew I was obsessed. She knew I was obsessed. I knew there was someone else in her life. She suffered their presence in her life. I knew I wanted to be with her, to let my fingers meet her body, to kiss her and let her fall asleep on top of my chest. She knew it would be a suicidal attempt to run away with me. “What do you say?” I rushed out, “when you go home late when you arrive drunk, what do you say?” 

She contemplated if she should answer or not. Her hands were now secured inside the pockets of her coat. Winter was coming, and we both knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to stop meeting in that bar, due to weather, and maybe other circumstances. “Sometimes I get away with it,” she simply answers, a smile trying to catch my attention while she spoke. “Sometimes I don’t.”

Although the questions were slowly rising inside my throat, and the feeling of rage crept behind my back, I kept my mouth closed shut. I knew—she knew I knew. She wasn’t hiding it, but she wasn’t giving me any details either. Her position was harder than mine, her chances to lose, her chances to win. 

“Jaehyun,” and the sound of her voice interpreting my name, it held me captive, and it would hold me captive forever, I knew. Jaehyun. Slowly, her fingers found their way to mine. It was a shy movement, she was breaking our secret agreement, she was trespassing the limits, the boards that held our worlds separated. “I think of you when I’m sad.”

It was a hard feeling to swallow. 

“How often?”

“Every night.”

I nodded. I held her hand tightly, I pulled her in. She let herself be pulled. Her feet took a step closer to my body. She did not look up at me. 

“I cannot ask you to come with me.”

“No, you can’t,” she whispered. 

“I cannot ask you to run away with me.”

“No, you can’t,” her eyes closed softly. 

“Where can I find you, if not here?”

She stayed silent. 

It had been three nights since I last saw Jaehyun. Every time I met him, I took a step closer to an inevitable ending for me, myself, my body, and my soul. I was aware—but what else could I do? He gave me the slightest hope. When he looked at me, he did not simply look at me. He saw me. He saw past and through me. I felt his eyes rummage through all my memories, which all belonged to me, only to me. But he still entered, he still tried to pick up the broken chaos inside me. He did that, unconsciously. 

I felt alive under his gaze. I felt awake when he listened to me. I felt mortal every time I took a step away from him, leaving his body standing still behind me, looking at me. I always fought back my emotions when that moment came around. Don’t look back, keep walking. Don’t look back, keep walking. Don’t—

And I did. I always left, and never asked him to follow. 

Then, I was alone. The sound of my steps was the only thing accompanying me, along with my cracking fingers. Walking out of the bubble, the thin edges, the comfort. Walking out of the light. Walking out of the passion—out of Jaehyun. But I knew better than to stop. 

I always tried to come up with an excuse, even if it wouldn’t work. Too much work? A night out with friends? Simple walk that took me out of reality. That last one I hoped to come one day true. The lights of the apartment building were almost all out. A cat crossed by me, hurriedly. The beeping sound of the numbers being typed in the little monitor, the display shining light blue. A deep breath after another. Jaehyun. My mind screamed his name. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. 

Almost at my door—our door, what used to be our door, what used to hold so much meaning, now reduced to simple iron in front of me. The key was inside the lock. The lights are out, and then I know it’s imminent. 

I could’ve asked for help. But who was I to drag anyone, innocent, inside the hell that was built only for myself? Who was I to doom anyone else besides myself? The same questions repeat after I am inside. Where have you been, why do you come so late? Empty streets are not a suitable place for you—but if you've turned yourself into a whore, then I guess they are. I keep my mouth shut. 

He's in the dark. But I can make out the figure of his slouched body on the couch. He is not looking at me. I smell him. The booze. The weed. I turn around to avoid discussion, praying this night I’d be able to get away with it. When my body finally sides my room – our room, where we used to daydream about one day having a family, now reduced to an empty cage – my back is on the door. I hope he does not follow tonight—not tonight. 

Jaehyun. Jaehyun. 

It had been a lie. I had lied to him. I did not only think of him when I was sad. His name popped into my mind whenever I crossed the threshold of this house. 

Knocks on the door. My mind goes blank. I did not hear his steps. He wasn’t drunk. No, not tonight. He was sober, he had power. I wouldn’t get away with it tonight, I say to myself, I communicate silently to Jaehyun. I’m sorry I keep you waiting, I’m sorry I don’t appear, but the bruises will be too noticeable for me to face you like that. 

I turn around and open the door.   

I don’t go back to the bar for the rest of the week either. I know she won’t be there; Y/N won’t appear. That’s why I always pass by the glossy doors, a quick glance inside before turning my attention to the crowded street in front of me. If I were to be asked how I knew—I wouldn’t be able to explain. 

It was cruel. I knew it was cruel to let her go each night we spent a few hours together, I knew it was miserable of me to not run behind her and catch her and keep her safe, but who was I to even consider if she was not safe enough?  Maybe I was just a coward whenever it came to the moment to move and act. That’s why I stood still every time she turned around to leave, just watching her, trying to remember every step she takes in the other direction until her figure is completely lost in the shadows of the night. 

I knew it was cruel, but I couldn’t make myself overstep the boundaries she had imposed on me. 

That Friday I entered my house without going to the bar either. I was met with loneliness. I had created for myself a safe place where I couldn’t be harmed, I have created that space for me, only for me, my nostalgia imprinting every corner of the residence. 

I turned the lights on. I took off my shoes. I sat down on the couch. I could hear the neighbor kids laughing through the paper-thin walls. I could smell the dinner that was being made at the restaurant in front of our building. I could keep count of every car passing by my window. I was not focused. I was thinking of her. I was missing her. I was envisioning her in front of me, next to me, on top of me. 

I had to close my eyes. Y/N. The name, the smell, the laugh, the touch. 

I was losing myself to the delirium of not having her right there—right then. I needed her, I was poisoned by her, and I was addicted to her. Jaehyun, I could almost hear her say my name next to my ear. I opened my eyes, shocked. A thin layer of sweat had formed on my forehead, and neck, and nape. She was there—almost there. She would never be there. 

I couldn’t stand there any longer. 

I went back to the bar. 

It was Friday night and Y/N did not appear. 

When I met Jaeyhun again, it was too late. I had taken the decision to flee from that life, away from the darkness that had engulfed me. He was sitting on his – our – usual spot, his back now to the entrance. It confused me because he would always be the one looking ahead to the entrance, waiting for me. 

Three weeks had passed since the last time I saw him. Apart from me being too bruised to walk, I was not mentally ready to face him and lie to him. Lie. Lie. Lie. My heart nearly jumped out of my throat when I saw him, the outline of his neck, his wide shoulders. The darkness of his hair, cut perfectly but styled messily. I stopped. 

I felt like meeting him for the first time. I felt scared all over again. I felt nervous. I felt nauseous. Jaehyun. His name threatened to escape from my mouth in a form of a sigh. Even when I knew he shouldn’t, even when I had pushed him away from meeting so many times, disappeared, re-appeared, lied. It felt like the first time meeting him, although there was a big difference now. 

I made my way toward the table. He did not hear my steps. My hand slowly found its way to his shoulder, and I could feel him tense under my touch. The few times our skin has touched, I have always received the same reaction. His eyes darted down to his glass of wine; he did not look up. I knew why—I felt ashamed. For him, I had spent two hours in front of my mirror trying to conceal any leftover trace of the jealousy that had conquered my home years ago. For him I had painted my lips red; for him, I had practiced my smile and my words; for him, I had cried all my tears before taking a step outside of the house. 

I sat down, he did not look up. My heart skipped a beat. I knew it was too late. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, still not looking at me. Something inside of me broke, scratched my organs, and made me bleed. Something inside of me cried out, harder than when receiving blows on my ribs. Something inside of me died the moment I heard his empty voice. I kept silent but he did not say anything else. It was an ending sentence, for me, for him, for what he could’ve been. We both knew, but we were both too scared to say it out loud. 

“Once I told you I had important things to say,” I said quietly, he nodded in response, “and I know what they are now, although it might be too late.” His breathing was not even, and he was nervous. Another sip. The glass was suddenly empty. He didn’t wait for me to continue before turning around and raising his hand to the waiter, two fingers up, two more glasses coming our way. I was silent until our order came. He drank, and finally, he looked up at me.

“I am sorry I wasted so much time waiting for you,” he spoke quietly, “when I should’ve been looking out for you.”

“That would’ve been the worst situation.”

He took another sip. He hated himself—I hated myself even more, for making him see me like this, how I really am, what I really am. The misery I’ve felt for the last four years crept onto my neck, my hair, my head. 

“I’ve been trapped—I am, still,” I said. He nodded in response. “Trapped in my own life, and even if I wanted, I wouldn’t be able to reach you, let you take me away with you.” He nodded again. His head hung low. “I am ashamed of myself, Jaehyun.” 

It wasn’t explicit. He didn’t need explicit. I had left one bruise on my forearm without concealing it. I have left it for him to see, the surface of the situation. “You shouldn’t.” He said back. I knew—but I couldn’t afford to not be ashamed, not now that I am what I have always feared. 

“Wherever I looked, I always saw you. On each surface, on each ad. Women passed by me on the street and my brain tricked me every time into believing it was you.” He held his breath and so did I. 

I wanted to apologize again. Bring me down to my knees, bow my head low for him.

“It’s not your fault.”

His words took me out of my imagination. Reality shocked me to the core. It’s not your fault. His words repeated over and over again inside my brain, burning deep down, burning into ashes. But it is, I wanted to scream. It is. It is. His eyes never left mine. My mouth never opened. Not a single sound. “It’s not your fault, Y/N.” He spoke. 

“You don’t know—”

“I don’t need to.”

I finished the alcohol in my glass. He didn’t know. He shouldn’t know. He was good—Jaehyun was not him. Jaehyun was not mad, he was never mad. Jaehyun would understand if she left. Jaeyhun always understood when she disappeared. “I’ve come here tonight to…” I repeated the sentence I had running inside my mind for the past three weeks, “to say goodbye.”

He was silent and suddenly the noise that filled the bar that we were so used to being in vanished. It was him and me. Me and him. His eyes were on my lips. My tears were in his hands. He was there, finally—I have wished for him for years. I have dreamt with him, for him. I have fought for him, because of him. I have made stupid things; I have dug my own grave. 

“You don't want to.”

He was hurt when he said that. His voice broke. I broke.

“You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you want to say goodbye?” he laughed, out of sadness. I couldn’t bare to look at him anymore. Because he was right, I didn’t want to—but I didn’t want to live scared, scarred, for the rest of my life either. I didn’t want to bring him down with me, down the spiral of self-destruction I have created. I didn’t want to snatch away from him the years he had left to find happiness for himself. 

I have burnt all the bullets. He has the gun still loaded. 

Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t be on the same page. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No—you’re not,” he whispered. He was not mad. He spoke his mind. His words were harsh. But still, there wasn’t a hint of him being mad. 

Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. 

Mind screamed for my hands to reach out to him. Let him hold me. Let him take all the pain away. Please, Jaehyun. 

“I am,” I said back. 

“You don’t have anything to apologize… at least to me. But…” he stopped. “If there is someone you ought to apologize to, is yourself.”

I stopped breathing. The tears burnt inside my eyes. I had to close them, cage them. But the more I insisted, the more they burnt, the fire spreading down my throat and reaching my lungs, imprisoning the air. It was hard to breathe. 

“Y/N,” he was demanding, he was begging. “Y/N.” It hurt, listening to my own name slip was his lips. “Where is that girl you talked about? The one obsessed with life—with the passion that came with being alive?” he questioned me, it hurt. “Where is that girl that you talked about? Find her, Y/N.” His words stabbed me. It was impossible—

“Find her, Y/N, before you let yourself die,” and with each word, his knuckles turned whiter, his fist on top of the table, “before you apologize to me from your grave, for leaving me, again. Find her.”

I wanted to speak back. I wanted to tell him that she was no longer here. I wanted to—I couldn’t. Jaehyun. His eyes burnt holes in my face, I felt as if I was disintegrating. I knew I loved him—Jaehyun. I knew before I came tonight, that it was too late to love him. He, as well, had gathered hate. 

“Jaehyun.”

And a tear slipped down his cheek as well. It glistened under the dim lights of the bar. We were still surrounded by people, but it was us. Only us. Only our memories together, only the minutes we have shared, only the seconds we have left.

That was the last time I saw her before years rushed by trying to bury her face in the depths of my memory. She was right, she came to say goodbye. She left. She disappeared. She did not come back, not to me at least. 

How many years have passed since I burned my last shot with her? Maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Every day I went to the bar. Every day I sat and waited, lonely, surrounded by my nostalgia, silently crying while drowning in many, many, glasses filled to the rim with the disgusting liquor that somehow managed to blur her face from my memory.

Although it hurt to lose her completely, I managed to stand up again. I picked up the pieces, held them together, and I glued them to one another even if they didn’t fit. I refused to be held to my knees for her — for the girl whom I have never really met, for her ghost. I left the bar one day and I didn’t come back. I turned my back to the place, to her, to our memories, and to myself. I moved. I disappeared. I followed her steps, never knowing where the road led. I tried to not rot, I tried to make myself a great man. I survived, without her, without the part of me that she held forever. 

And I did. It consumed me, just as I have predetermined she would do even before meeting her for the last time. Because I knew— there was no one else to blame but myself. That last time I saw her I held her in my arm, and let myself indulge in that little moment we had created for ourselves, the last moment we would share together. I remember her scent. I remember her hands holding tight to my arms, her fingers trembling. She did not want to let me go, and yet she did. She did not want to draw me to her madness, and yet she did. She did not want to hurt me, and yet, she killed a part of me that would never revive. 

And, although all that happened, I managed to get up from my knees. 

I couldn’t hold myself hostage in the past while grasping onto the thin threat that held the idea of her coming back to me. 

I also let her go. 

The years have passed and I sigh as I make my way to the kindergarten where my children await for me to pick them up. I walk slowly, thinking about all the tasks we have for today. I think about my wife, such a lovely girl, such a respectful woman, and such a responsible mother. I think about her, and my heart aches. Because I love her— I do love her. But I am not obsessed with her, with her existence, her passion. She has never had her lips painted deep red. She has never had me waiting for her, she was always early. She never kept her mysteries to herself, she shared her life with me. 

I loved her and yet— I don’t.

I pass by a bookshop. The path I take every afternoon is the same. I’ve been to that bookshop many times before. I’ve shopped there, and I’ve spent evenings with my kids looking for the right book for nighttime. And yet I stop, my feet suddenly forget how to move. Because she was there— her face was there. Her eyes were there. Her red lips were on the cover. It was both improbable and impossible. I had given up on the idea to see her again years ago. She looked at me, right at me. Her picture draws me in. I stepped inside the bookshop. 

Without giving it a second thought I pick up the books. 

It’s not your fault, it’s the title. She’s holding onto a glass of wine, and I recognize the surroundings of the photo. The dim lights and the chairs were where they used to spend every night when they saw each other. She was in their reserved seats. The entrance was behind her. It felt like I have been the one taking the photo. 

Years have passed, and they left a mark behind. She had wrinkles, she was thinner, and her cheekbones were way prominent now. Her bare shoulders showed in the photo, and more than one scar was recognizable. Time was not kind to everyone but to her— time did not exist. She glowed, she still had the magnet that pulled me in. I held the book and my mind drifted back in time to when I would wait for her, for hours, for days, and for weeks. 

“Jaehyun?” The voice of the lady who works there takes me out of the trance, the little bubble that appeared again after so many years of living like a mortal. I turn to look at her, stunned, pale probably. She smiles and nods towards the stack of books with her face on them. With Y/N smiling at me. “It’s the new best-seller, a biography by a survivor of domestic violence,” she explains, “but I don’t think Mariko will like that kind of book.” She’s talking about my wife. She believes I want to buy that book for my wife. Oh, how naïve she actually was. 

“Thank you,” I mumble and turn around to look at the book between my hands again. 

Slowly I open the first page. 

I’ve been waiting for you, J. I want you to know that it is not your fault I left.

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[closetedbumblebee]

White Wedding (Addison Montgomery x Female Reader)

Weddings are supposed to be full of love, happiness and gratitude. A wonderful celebration of two souls coming together as one. Today was one of those days. Callie and Arizona were finally and officially tying the knot.

It was supposed to be a happy celebration all round; all the happy couples loved up, attending the wedding together. Meredith and Derek, Christina and Teddy, Owen and Amelia, Richard and Catherine, among others showed their support for the sweetest couple who were currently reciting their vows.

You sat alone in the third row from the front, extremely proud of your friends. You were smiling from ear to ear as they each walked down the aisle. You knew their story like the back of your hand, and couldn’t contain the happiness you felt when Callie and Arizona finally came through for the other, especially after the accident. They had come so far.

You felt a pang of sadness, taking a look around the room at all the couples. You wished your girlfriend, Addison was here with you, but she had to fly back to LA after Sofia’s delivery. You barely spent enough time together as it is, both of you living in separate cities, leading separate lives. You did, however have a relatively strong and healthy relationship, taking the time to have long phone calls, FaceTime, and send as many text messages as you could. You tried to sneak weekends away  to LA, also. 

But, things felt strained for the last few months, and you both felt the need to remedy that. 

The last time you and Addison saw each other was during her stay, which was 4 days long. You hadn’t seen each other for five weeks, and you could tell the strain was getting to you. But, you both pushed those feelings down to focus on your friends. After all, you were both doctors.

When you did catch up, you and Addison had a slight argument the night before she was set to jet out of Seattle. You sort of made up, but you hadn’t really spoken since, just the odd text and call here and there.

You reminisced… 

“Honey, I really want to stay longer, but I can’t. I’ve got patients to get back to and-“, Addison said sadly.

“We’ve barely seen each other for weeks on end, and when we do, you suddenly have to rush off again. I get that you have a new life now and I respect that. Of course I do, but where the fuck do we fit in?! When you took the job in LA, we promised we’d make each other a priority regardless of whatever happened. You only fly back to Seattle when Richard needs you. I’m busting my butt every other week, rearranging schedules, going out of my way to see you. Because guess what, Addison? I love you! Clearly you don’t love me enough, otherwise you’d be making some sacrifices” you snapped.

Addison was taken aback. You had never seen her look so sad and upset. You just missed her so much, and wanted to be with her. You instantly felt guilty for snapping because you didn’t mean to go that far and before she could say anything, you jumped in again.

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just miss you so much. You know that. I’m so so sorry”, you said, equally sad as you reached for her hand.

“We’ll, I’m not going to say that didn’t hurt, because it did. But I understand. I guess it was deserved. I’m sorry too, sweetheart. I’m gonna do better, I promise”, she said.

You held each other tight, “I love you”, you said in unison.

Addison was about to say something else when - 

Her watch beeped, reminding of her flight and you drove her back to the airport where you shared one last kiss.

It wasn’t the way you wanted to make up, but it was a start.

Upon arriving back in LA, she texted immediately.

‘I’m back. I won’t say back home, because it isn’t home. Never has, never will be. My home is with you. FaceTime with me tomorrow? I love you baby xxxxx’, she texted

“Me too, my love. I most certainly will. I’m so sorry again. I love you too xxxx”, you replied.

Things improved between the two of you over the next four weeks, before she told you she couldn’t attend the wedding…

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really wanted to be there, but I just can’t get away”, she said, evidentially disappointed.

“Oh…okay. It’s fine. I can try and film it for you. It’s not going to be the same without you. I love you”. You were sad, but you didn’t want to push her.

……………..

Drawing you from your thoughts, you noticed the last of the guests arriving before the brides made their voyage down the aisle.

“Excuse me, beautiful, is this seat taken?”, you heard a voice say.

You thought you were dreaming. It couldn’t be. You looked up, to see a familiar, beautiful face smiling sweetly at you.

“Addison?!”, you shrieked

You both started crying as she pulled you up into her arms, holding you tightly.

“Surprise”, she whispered huskily into your ear.

“What are you doing here?! I thought you couldn’t come”, you cried.

“I couldn’t bear being away from you anymore”, she said, smiling through tears.

You kissed her with everything you had, before she pulled back.

“I mean it. I’m miserable in LA. I can’t stand it there. So, I’m coming home - for good”, she said.

You didn’t exactly comprehend what she said at first, but then gasped in delight, wrapping her up in your arms. Looking around, your friends were watching you both, all clearly happy for you.

You and Addison still had a lot to talk about, but right now, you put it to the side when Callie and Arizona appeared….

Everyone cried during the vow exchange, and you and Addison shared sweet, knowing looks, never letting go of each other’s hands.

…………..

At the reception, everyone gathered around Arizona and Callie as they had their first dance as a married couple.

Addison wrapped her arms around you from behind and rested her chin on your shoulder as you watched the happy couple. You hugged her arms, and she reached around to peck you on the lips. You two couldn’t get enough of each other.

When it came time for other couples to join the dance floor, you and Addison wasted no time walking hand in hand to the floor. At this point, everyone was in their own worlds, all content and happy, buzzing from the day’s events, while you and Addison were completely wrapped up in your own little bubble.

“So….”, she said, arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you swayed to Shania Twain’s ‘You’ve Got a Way’.

“So…”, you repeated.

She jumped right into it. 

“I’ve missed you, my love. I really have. You are everything to me. I’m so sorry for making you feel otherwise. I shouldn’t have been neglecting us”, she said softly, her eyes not leaving yours.

“Addie, hey… No, please. I’m sorry - I had no right to go off at you. I should’ve been more understanding. You uprooted your life and that’s a huge deal; because you’re a big deal, babe. I thought about what I said to you that night, and it was completely unfair, way out of line, in fact.. I was just projecting my feelings onto you. I was so scared that by you moving would have jeopardised our relationship without thinking about anything else. It was me, I was selfish”, you said, sheepishly.

“In other words, you thought I’d cheat on you. That’s it, isn’t it?”, she asked.

You felt tears in your eyes. Blinking them back, you smiled sadly and nodded.

“Come on now, you know I would never, ever, do that to you”, she said.

“I know. I…know. I just should've been more supportive of you. I know what this opportunity meant to you”, you said, your tone apologetic.

“It’s not all on you, okay. I realised I was working longer hours, and I turned my back on us because I was so overwhelmed with all of it, and avoided you, because I think deep down, I was scared too. I was afraid of hurting you, and was terrified the long distance wouldn't work at first. So, I can see how you must’ve felt that way”, Addison said, gently touching your face.

You looked into her eyes, to see the tears shimmering like white diamonds.

“Baby…”, you said.

“Being away from you, not being able to see you, or hold you, or kiss you, made me realise that you, that what we have, is worth more to me than any job. So I told Naomi I quit, called Richard, and he offered me a new job”, Addison smiled.

“Oh, Addie, that’s great!”, you said gleefully.

“Yes, yes it is. But, the best part is that I am now Grey Sloan’s Chief of Neo-Natal Surgery. I’m officially the boss now, baby. You know what that means. This is going to be so good for us!”, Addie said.

You were crying softly and gently touched her face. You knew what this meant; Addison being in charge of her own specialty, back on home soil meant everything to her. She was determined to fight for her relationship with you, so being the boss meant she could make her own rules and schedule. But, not only that, she deserved that title; worked hard for it her whole life; and you were determined to fight to the ends of the earth for her. 

It hit you then that she was really back.

“You’re home?!”, you asked, almost in shock.

“Mm-hmm. I’m home, baby”, she beamed.

“No more messing around, no more arguments. This is it - you and me. No more turning back. I want to fight for us”, she continued.

“I want to fight for us too”, you said back.

You smiled brightly at each other, feeling more connected and more in love than ever.

She was just about to kiss you when you heard the clinking of champagne glasses, as Callie’s father, Mr Torres called for a toast.

“Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate my beautiful daughter, Calliope and her wonderful new wife, Arizona on their special day today. These two have gone through hell and back to be together. I have never felt prouder of my little girl, than I do today. I look around the room, and see it filled with such love. It’s a really beautiful thing. Real, true love is a once in a lifetime feeling, so if you’ve found it, hold onto it with both hands and never let it go, because it’s one crazy ride. Ladies, I congratulate you both on overcoming your obstacles and finding your way to each other. I love you both so much, my dear daughters. To Callie and Arizona!”, Mr Torres exclaimed, full of pride.

“To Callie and Arizona!”, everyone said.

The newlyweds kissed, before turning their attention to the wedding cake.

You and Addison watched the whole exchange, extremely proud of your friends, grateful to be a part of their special, historic day; however, deep down, you both pictured this day of your own, in your not so distant future.

Addison and you shared a look, and you both just knew. This was the path you wanted to take.

“Forever and always, Addie”, you said, winking at her.

“Forever and always, Y/N”, she repeated, clutching your hand, bringing it to her lips.

[shorkbrian]

Cottgecore

Prelude - This is all @dearestdynamight ‘s fault okay I take no responsibility for the horny..... or do I? aha Sorry I said I’d write a drabble but it turned into a one shot whoops

Pairing - Yandere Bakugou Katsuki X Fem Reader

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, predator/prey dynamics, unsafe sex, 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/3R8PKPTPgHApBhCt3NUJ0q?si=uLON1Rw_RHaEpH2WaCfYBA (This music has a great runnin tempo/ it made me think of heartbeats skippin like outta fear so)

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

“Alright-” Bakugou has you by the arm, dragging you past the threshold of the cabin he keeps you in.

You’re scared. Sometimes he lets you outside, to feel the sunshine and the nice breeze, to go for a walk down to the creek, hiding his smile as you gawk at all the pretty flowers.

But he seems... agitated today. Restless.

“-Here’s how this is gonna go.” He shoves you down the front steps, and you barely catch yourself from falling, turning to look at the blonde while he sits himself down on the top step, legs stretching out. “I’ll give you hm, five minutes -  got that? You got five minutes to fuckin’ run, and then I let myself loose.”

“Wh-what?” You’re not understanding, hands anxiously twisting at each other. There’s a predatory look in Bakugou’s eyes.

“We’re gonna play tag. I’m fuckin’ bored and I wanna get a nice little workout in. Chasing your pretty little ass through the forest should be enough to get my blood pumping.” Is his simple explanation.

He’s letting you run?

You don’t dare to hope for a second that you’ll actually be able to get away, escape from the monster of a man that’s lounging on the steps in front of you. 

He’s hurt you, abused you, kept you locked away from society, far enough that no one’s able to hear when you scream every time Bakugou fucks you.  

“I..... I don’t want to play.” Your bottom lip quivers, but you can’t tell if you’re going to cry out of frustration or nervousness. You can’t believe that you’re nothing more than a toy to Bakugou, something he can play with when he’s bored, keep tucked away in the dark when he has better things to do.

Bakugou leans back, rests on an elbow, lets his crimson eyes rake up your form before they reach your gaze. “Yeah? You don’t wanna play? Is that cause you know you’ll fuckin’ lose? I bet you’ll cry like a little bitch when I catch you.”

There’s nothing that you want to say to him. He’s trying to egg you on, but you won’t fall for his mean tricks.

“Fucking fine.” He shifts, smug smile appearing. “Time starts now. I don’t care if you don’t run, but know that I don’t have any qualms about fuckin’ you right here after your five minutes are up.” His gaze his burning into you.

At least if you run, you won’t just be sitting here, waiting as Katsuki counts down the minutes.

You take off, down towards the creek behind the cabin, grateful that Bakugou let you keep your sneakers when he had first dragged you here, all those months ago.

They’re practically falling apart, squishing through the mud by the creek, and you almost lose your footing, scrambling to right yourself, splash across to the other side.

It doesn’t matter that your shoes are all wet now, that the bottom of your dress is dripping. Truthfully, you hate the dresses Katsuki brings home for you to wear. Hate that they’re clothes you’d love under normal circumstances, flowy dresses and cute patterns, fitting in so nicely to a cottage core aesthetic.

Branches snap underfoot as you crash through the brush, panting, focused on one thing and one thing only; getting as far away as you could, as fast as you can.

You don’t want to think about what’s going to happen when if Katsuki catches you, this twisted little game of tag he wants to play. You want to scream, this isn’t even how you play tag, he’s just using it as an excuse to hunt you down, to take pleasure out of your fear.

Moving too close to a tree had you yelping as your shoulder collided, the rough bark scratching up your skin, tearing your dress. No matter, you just needed to keep going, keep running, keep moving.

It was starting to hurt to breathe, lifting your legs was tiring, burning. You’d never been much of a runner, and being kept under lock and key at Bakugou’s cabin hadn’t exactly done wonders for your endurance.

You found yourself cursing that fact as a loud shout rang through the forest, words indiscernible. But you knew it was the blonde, could recognize raspy, manic voice that comprised the shout.

Five minutes was up.

Wheezing now, you pushed on. You briefly considered hiding, but quickly discarded that idea. Bakugou could track you, and you didn’t have enough time. You would have to worry that he’d be even rougher when if he caught you, hiding instead of running like he had wanted.

No time to rest, but you wanted to, lungs burning. You had a stitch in your side, your shoulder hurt from scraping against the tree, and your mouth was dry, throat parched.

It wasn’t long before you began to hear noises behind you, brush crashing, branches snapping, pleased laughter. You knew Bakugou was toying with you, knew that he could track you silently if he so chose. But no, he wanted you to know that he was coming, chasing you down, relentless.

It hurt to push your legs faster, muscles fatigued, cramping. Your left calf seized up, and you held in a shriek, pleading, begging your body to keep moving as you limped on, hurriedly dragging your cramping leg, refusing to stop.

“Keep on runnin’, I’ve almost fucking got you!” Bakugou crowed, and you spared a glance behind you, thankfully seeing nothing but an empty forest behind you. It meant you still had time.

But not enough time.

With a start, you realized the noises behind you had stopped, which meant that Katsuki was beginning to actually hunt, silent and ruthless.

You don’t know where he is now, nothing left to do but urge your body forward still, exhausted and terrified.

Then a weight’s pushing against your back, and you’re hitting the dirt, tackled by Bakugou, pinned down.

“I knew I’d fuckin’ get you.” He whispers to you, breath coming out in proud, ragged pants.

You whimper into the dirt, body already aching, your own breath knocked completely out of your chest because of the way the male had tackled you. You hurt all over, and now you were dirty, and Bakugou wouldn’t get off.

“Goddamn, you gave me a run for my money there. Didn’t think you’d be that fuckin’ fast, Jesus Christ.” You can tell he’s almost proud of you, proud of his ability to choose a partner.

He pushes his weight off of you, rising to his knees, and you quickly try to follow him, not fond of being splayed out on the ground underneath him.

But Bakugou doesn’t let you get far.

You’ve gathered your legs underneath you, pushing up off the ground, but the man curls a hand around your hip, the other gripping at your uninjured shoulder. You don’t even have time to draw in a breath to ask him what he was doing before he’s shoving your face back in the dirt, lifting your hips.

“Bakugou, wait!” You screeched, hands fumbling backwards as you try to grab at him, push him off you.

The man just laughs, loud and rough, shuffles closer so he can push his crotch against your ass, let you feel the sizable bulge he’s sporting. “What’s wrong princess? I won fair n’d square, now let me take my fuckin’ prize.”

A part of you knew, knew that this is how things would end. But you had wanted to believe, had hoped that it’d be different. 

“Please, wait, not here-not out here.” You choked, feeling him shift the fabric of your dress up over your ass, just enough so that he could tug at the fabric of your panties, snap the edges against your skin.

“N’d why the fuck not? ‘S not like anybody’ll hear you when you start screamin’.” The reality behind his words made your stomach curl, legs trembling as Katsuki snickered.

“Look at you, shakin’ like a scared little deer.”

Your panties get tugged down to your knees, and you hear the slight squish of Bakugou gathering his saliva in his mouth seconds before you hear him spit, seconds before you feel the glob of wet land on one of your cheeks.

Fingers swipe through the mess, before trailing down to your pussy, spreading Bakugou’s spit against your folds.

He apparently isn’t satisfied with that though, because you can feel him shifting, right before he grips a cheek in each hand and spreads you wide, pulls your hips backwards at the same time so you’re angled just right.

Just right for his spit to land directly on your cunt this time.

“S-stop it, please-” You shudder, giving up on trying to push him off. It’s never worked for you in the past, and you’re tired from running, sweaty body yearning to go limp.

A finger enters you, too soon, with not enough spit to ease its way. You yelp at the burning stretch, but Bakugou snarls at you too shut up, take what he’s given’ you as he slaps your ass.

You can feel the burn of his gaze as he watches your flesh jiggle from the force of his slap. 

He works fast, doesn’t have enough patience to go slow, to open you up properly for him. The mans riled up from the chase, full of adrenaline that has no where to go, and he wants to hammer away at your little body until you break. Bakugou knows he can build you back up again when you do.

It’s alarming when you feel fingers pull free, feel the hot, spongy head of a dick pressing up against your entrance. You aren’t ready, nowhere near wet enough. “Bakugou-Bakugou wait, wait! Bakug-oh!!” The scream that leaves your mouth is loud enough to startle birds, cause them to rise from their resting places in the trees.

Bakugou laughs a little at that, the sound quickly tapering off into a groan as he works his cock deeper into you, wiggling his hips from side to side so he can fully seat himself into your cunt, balls snug up against your clit.

“Yeah, go ahead and scream princess, lemme hear you.” He encourages, pulling out just an inch or two so he can slam back in, hear you sob, watch your shoulder shake. with each heaving breath.

He’s fucking you into the dirt like an animal, feral and uncontrolled, wild. You barely have the coordination to try and protect your face with your forearms, keep your sensitive skin from being scraped raw on the ground.

You can’t protect your knees though, or the places that Katsuki holds you from, his grip too tight, blunt nails pressing so deep into your flesh that they draw blood, the pressure biting.

It’s impossible to hold back your noises, tearful, fearful screams reverberating into the forest, choked off as you’re rocked back and forth by vicious thrusts.

The man moves easily, fucks you with the strength of a stallion, growling out your name, letting out throaty groans as he chases his release.

And it hurts, so much, your body battered and becoming scratched and bruised; it hurts so much. Until heat pools in your gut, Katsuki hitting a special spot inside you. It makes your toes curl in your sneakers, has the slide of his cock going just a bit easier as you get that much wetter.

“Unh, n-no-ooh, please, ah! Please, ohh, Bak-Bakug-” You can’t even finish your sentence, not with the blonde reaching around, hand creeping across your stomach, down to where his balls keep smacking against your skin so he can rub tight little circles around your clit.

“Fuck-fuck yeah princess, there we go. Feelin’ good now? Shit, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight.”

You hated his voice, hated how deep and raspy it was, how his gruff moans of pleasure made your stomach jolt with arousal.

“You tryin’ t’ milk my cock or somethin’? You want my cum that fucking bad?” The man pounding you into the dirt laughed, changing his posture so that he was curled over you, chest pressed to your back.

His hips rabbited into you, and you sobbed freely at the sensation, at his horrible fingers that wouldn’t stop drawing shapes on your little clit, making you feel hot and too close to cumming.

“No, no, no-” You whimpered, trying to hold back your orgasm, but it was too little, too late.

Bakugou’s hips stuttered as you gushed around his cock, barely managing three more full thrusts before burying himself deep, cock twitching inside of you, spurting out his warm cum.

Disgusting.

You were too tired, too spent to care how long the two of you spent on the ground, regaining your breath.

When Bakugou peeled himself away from your body, soft cock slipping easily from your warmth, you couldn’t help but cringe at the wetness that spilled against your thigh, no longer plugged in your cunt.

“That was real fucking good.”

Yeah, maybe for him.

Your panties were pulled back up, Bakugou smoothing them down before flipping your dress back into place as he rose to his feet.

He urged you up, supporting most of your weight as he easily tugged you upright. “Knew you’d be too much of a baby to walk back.” He grouched as your knees trembled, almost sending you crashing back to the ground if not for his firm arm around your waist, holding you up.

The next second, you were being lifted into the air, easily swung up into Katsuki’s arms, carried bridal style.

You felt his eyes on you, scanning over your face, your arms, your legs. Cataloging the various scratches and bruises marring your form. “You look like shit.”

You didn’t have a smart retort, just rested your head against his chest, grateful that he wasn’t making you walk, legs weak and jelly-like.

Your throat hurt from screaming.

Bakugou took you home, back to his cabin, to the cottage core life that you’d think was perfect... if only he wasn’t in it.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Potent

Alpha! Hanta Sero x Fem! Omega! Reader

***18+ Fic***

If you are under the age of 18 please vacate the premises.

Warnings: A/B/O, smut, knotting, marking, breeding kink (sorta? idk it comes with the A/B/O territory), a hint of pregnancy kink, a bit of blood

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author's Note: Ohhhhkaayyy so this has been sitting in my google doc for AGES. I think I started this in...October of last year? It's been sitting there for months and I've lacked the motivation to finish and post it but then I sent in an anon ask to @reinawritesbnha and, being the absolute queen she is, she became the little push I needed to do it. I DID IT FOR REINA!!

Also, this is some of my earliest writing and I only skimmed and edited a little bit of it so if there's a little bit of weird pacing or a strange cutoff where the writing styles clash it's because I haven't touched this piece in months.

Anywho, enjoy~

*

*

*

It had to happen when you were surrounded by alphas.

Your suppressants flaked out, again, and your scent wafted through the air on the street. Normally It’d be fine for an omega to let their scent float freely around them. But your scent is particularly...potent, even when you weren’t in heat. Not only that, but you weren’t mated yet, your scent glands still bare, and you still didn’t have a pack. To make matters worse, you’re quirkless.

You hadn’t realised what was happening until your path was blocked by an especially large male alpha. You turned around, and there were two more behind you. Fuck. This isn’t good. You took in your surroundings and searched for an exit, but you couldn’t find a way out. There's no way you’d be able to outrun the three very large male alphas.

Probably the worst part is that more alphas are turning their head toward you, taking notice of your lavender honey and rain scent that slowly began turning to a sour swamp. You dared to hope that change would ward off the three cornering you, but they’d already got a whiff of you. Several distressed chirps sounded from your chest, voicing your discomfort, and you glared pointedly at the three alphas as they edged closer to you.

You hate when this happened. Why’d you have to be cursed like this? Your growls only grew, baring your little omega fangs. There’s no way in hell you’d let some stranger scent you, let alone one of these creeps. They wouldn’t take the damn hint and just crept closer to you, calling out to the ‘pretty little omega’ to ‘come have some fun’.

You’re scared now, the involuntary chirps in your chest coming more frequently. None of the other alphas or betas on the street were big enough to face the three, making you a sitting duck and a ragdoll if they wanted you to be. Your claws are small, nowhere near ideal for this situation, but you’d use them if you needed to. With a final low defiant growl you dropped your bag against the wall behind you and readied yourself for a fight.

Suddenly a large body dropped in front of you, his back to you. His scent alone hit you like a freight train, orange zest, mint, tree bark and something earthy. It had your head spinning, nearly sending you into an early heat. He growled, low and powerful, the sound rattling in your chest and making you sink further into the wall behind you. The other three alpha’s scents together were still overpowered by the new alpha before you, and they vanished faster than they appeared.

He turned around and stepped away from you, giving you space to breathe. He kneeled down enough so he was eye level with you, his hands reaching out clearly in an attempt to comfort you, but kept from touching you.

“Are you okay?” The question barely registered, still delirious from his scent, and you’re having a hard time recovering. Large hands grip your shoulders and shake you lightly, your mind beginning to clear with the soothing pheromones he’s releasing.

“Omega.” The command snapped you to attention, your gaze fixated on his own dark irises.

“Are you okay, omega?” You blink, swallow down the lump in your throat, take a deep breath.

“Yeah...I’m okay. Thank you, alpha.” But you’re not quite okay. You need to get home. Fast. The alpha seemed to catch on, probably by your scent that still hadn’t returned to normal. He stands and slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders and wrapping you in his scent. It’s a comforting gesture.

“Let’s get you home.” With a nod you set off, the man walking next to you with a strong, warm hand on the middle of your back.

“What’s your name?” You introduce yourself, and he does the same. His name is Sero Hanta, and now that you’re calm again, you take in just how handsome he is.

Raven hair is pulled back into a small bun, showing off his undercut and strong, sharp jawline. Onyx eyes shine with kindness and playful mischief, and a beaming grin reveals pearly white teeth. He’s incredibly toned, his muscles calmly rippling under the t-shirt that stretched over his chest. You vaguely noticed the strange shape of his elbows, but disregarded it as his quirk. The omega in you is howling, begging for this alpha, his scent invading your senses. But you suppress it quickly, reminding yourself you’d only just met this man.

As you reach your apartment you exchange phone numbers, and he tells you to keep the jacket and use it when you go out to ward off any unwanted attention. You thank him again for helping you earlier, and he waves to you as he walks down the hall and enters the elevator, the doors closing in front of his handsome smiling face.

Despite meeting him only ten minutes earlier your instincts trust the alpha, and you hold the jacket close to your face, breathing in his scent. It’s wonderful, and your inner omega is in love. You find yourself wondering when you’d see him again.

The next few days are riddled with work and calls to your doctor about the strength of your suppressants. You work from home as a secretary for a small company. It’s a miracle you’d found it, too. Nobody wants an omega, let alone a potent one. It’s an alpha’s world, you guess. When this job opening popped up you were ecstatic, so you took it and have been working from home with decent pay for the last five years.

The calls to your doctor were not going as smoothly as your job, though. You leave a message every four hours until she finally calls you back. She was concerned since the suppressants she’d prescribed are the strongest out there, and if your scent was overpowering them they were either defective or your scent glands were overproducing. It wasn’t an immediate threat to your health, it only meant you’d be drawing more attention than you wanted to. Still, it’s annoying and makes life so much harder than it needs to be.

After she prescribed twice the amount, she said she’d look over your tests from the latest visit before she hung up the phone. You groaned once the call ended. You seriously needed a break from your second gender. Taking the prescribed double dose of suppressants, you got ready to go out to the corner cafe to read and drink coffee. Hopefully the new amount will keep steady. You really don’t want to deal with any more aggressive alphas this week. For good measure you pull on Sero’s jacket, allowing his scent to cover you, then grab your keys, phone, wallet and a book and begin the walk.

When you arrive at the cafe you order a hot mocha, curl into the small corner booth and crack open the book. You got lost in the ink and your mind floated along the adventure, putting yourself in the shoes of the main character and leading the mission to take down the corrupt queen who’d framed you for killing the prince of a neighboring kingdom. You were ripped from the fantasy world when a bright, enthusiastic blonde came up and tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump. His smile was as bright as his hair.

“Sorry to scare you cutie, but I couldn’t help but notice that jacket of yours smells an awful lot like my friend Sero!” You smile softly at the blonde.

“Well if we’re talking about the same Sero Hanta, then your nose would be correct. This is his jacket.” His eyes widen as he nods.

“Oh my gosh you must be the omega he keeps talk-” The blonde’s words became muffled by a large hand. A hand that belonged to the very man you were talking about. Sero smiles apologetically down at you as he shoves the blonde back to where you assume they’re sitting.

“Sorry about Kami, he’s… extroverted.” You smile back at him, mostly because you’re happy to see him again.

“It’s no problem at all. He recognized your scent on me.” He looked down and only then realized you’re wearing his jacket, and he beams at you. Then he takes a glance at the booth you’re sitting all alone at, his smile falling just a bit.

“Do you wanna come sit with us?” You take a moment to think about the offer, then agree with a nod. Your omega couldn’t pass up more time with him.

As you approach the booth you notice there are more people with Sero than you anticipated. There were four other people sitting there. Sero introduced all of them from left to right. Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Ashido Mina, and the happy blonde from earlier is Kaminari Denki. You introduce yourself and when Sero slid into the booth, you followed after him.

These five are a tight pack, and you learn they all met in high school. Bakugo’s brash personality made you wary at first, but it didn’t take long to realize he’s just like that with everyone. He makes a bit of a snippy remark, which you easily counter, and he smirks while the rest smile or snicker. It would seem they like you.

You can’t tell what their second genders are, and you mentally kick yourself for even wondering in the first place. Their genders are none of your concern, but you can’t blame yourself when you’re constantly alert because of your own stupid second gender. As it turns out, you don’t need to wait very long to find out.

This time you smell your own scent as it permeates the air around you. You swear under your breath at the stupid suppressants that obviously can’t so their job, and the others snap their gazes to you. You sigh.

“Yeah, that scent is me. My suppressants flaked again. Sorry about that.” They all nodded, seemingly understanding. Sero must have told them about the other day. Of course, it would soon repeat. It didn’t take long for an alpha to take notice of your scent. The man -- why is it always the largest males??? -- strides up to the booth with a cocksure grin and leans down to inhale your scent. You duck away from him, into Sero, and let out an albeit small warning growl that was drowned in Sero and Kirishima’s. He ignored them all the same.

“Hey there little omega, you smell real nice. You wanna come hang with me instead? We can have some fun together with my buddies, what do you say?” The others stayed quiet. They’re going to let you defend yourself before they do anything in case they end up escalating the situation. You turn your head and lift your shoulder, hiding your scent gland.

“I’m not interested, thank you. Please leave me alone.” You hoped to whatever deity watched over you that the man would leave. Before anyone could react the alpha grabbed your wrist in a vice grip, yanking you roughly from your seat. You chirp, your scent turning sour and the entire pack abruptly stands, baring their fangs at the man. It barely registered in your head that Kirishima and Bakugo are alphas, Mina is a beta, and Kaminari is an omega, their fangs giving them away.

The man tightens his grip on your wrist and you cry out, your bones creaking under the pressure. With no other options you did the one thing that would get him to let go, and sank your fangs into his wrist. You jump back into Sero, who wraps an arm around you protectively.

“You bit me, you bitch!” He raises an arm, clearly about to try and hit you, but a large hand grabs his wrist. Surprisingly enough it’s Bakugo, and his growl is laced into his words.

“Leave now, or you lose a hand.” Sero speaks up from above you.

“You might wanna listen, amigo. That’s Dynamight.” The alpha rips his arm from Bakugo’s hold and looks down at you, and you growl at him as he scoffs and walks away, apparently not ready to fight the #2 pro hero over an omega.

You all sit back down and you pull up the sleeve of the jacket to inspect the already forming bruise on your wrist. Your nose wrinkles with a half-angry half-pained snarl. Tenderly, Sero takes your wrist and lightly squeezes the sides of your forearm, against your bones, and your lack of reaction tells him nothing’s broken. Still, he growls at the offending bruise.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You shake your head and put a hand over his.

“It’s not worth it Sero. He’s probably long gone.” You turn to the rest of the pack.

“Thank you for protecting me.” Kirishima is the first to speak.

“Of course! That dude was a jerk. I just hope he doesn’t go around doing that to other omegas.” Bakugo, surprisingly, spoke next.

“Obviously we’d protect you. You’re a potent omega and quirkless, so you attract unwanted attention without even knowing or wanting to. Besides, if you’re gonna be Sero’s omega there’s no way in hell we’d let some extra handle you like that.” The implications make your face burn, and Kirishima smacks the blonde’s arm with a ‘Don’t just say that kind of thing, Katsuki.’

After an hour or two of talking, and shockingly no other aggressive alphas, they all walk you home to your apartment. Sero wanted to check on your wrist again, so you invited them all in, but they all had something else to do, so you were left alone with Sero. The fact that the one alpha you desperately wanted to be around is alone with you in your apartment is both great and terrible. Thankfully, you have self-control and his own suppressants are working perfectly fine.

He inspected the darkening bruise on your wrist, his large hands gripping your arm tenderly and turning it gently as he prods at the skin. It doesn’t hurt too bad, so you assure him you’ll be perfectly fine. Eventually he leaves with a hug and you sigh once the door is closed, relieved that you were able to keep your omega at bay and your hands to yourself.

A couple days later you get a text from him and the two of you text often, asking how each other’s day went, if anything interesting had happened. You didn’t leave your apartment unless you needed to, since your suppressants clearly weren’t working, so you made sure to cut grocery trips short and keep away from any alphas that seemed a bit aggressive. Sero invited you to hang out with the pack at their house, and you obliged.

They lived in a huge house all together. Most of the rooms were sealed so no scents or sounds could go in or out for ruts and heats, and there were several spare rooms that were empty and waiting for more pack members. It was a fun hangout, filled with video games and good conversation, and even better food which Bakugo cooked. Sero had an arm around you whenever he was close, and you definitely didn’t mind. Your suppressants flaked in the middle, again, and Sero insisted he walk you home. With him walking you home there weren’t any alphas trying to get you this time. You ended up going over to hang out with them a lot when you weren’t working, and eventually Sero began to court you.

Obviously, you accepted, and after a few months of dating and scenting, your overactive scent glands seemed to mellow out, Sero’s scent mixing with it. Your suppressants are lasting much longer now, which is a good sign. Now that you’re Sero’s omega, he often helped you with your heats and you’d help him with his ruts, and he was strong-willed enough that he hadn’t marked or knotted you in the middle of things.

About a year and a half into the relationship you realize you really love him. Sure you had arguments, but everything was settled through calmed discussions over coffee or tea, and you came to understand each other well enough that arguments became few and far between.

You’re happy with Sero, so when your heat came around early and he was there to help, you were going to let him know just how much you loved him.

You texted him once you felt it starting. He was there within half an hour, and you pounced on him once the font door closed, smothering him in hot, wet kisses, eager to feel him inside you. He carries you to the bedroom, and you two are quick in shedding all of your clothes. He lays you on your back with a hand on your throat as he growls into your ear, making a hot shudder roll down your spine.

“Are you ready for me omega?” You whine and nod, your slick already dripping down your folds. You want him so bad it hurts.

“Please alpha, I need your cock.” He growls again, satisfied with your answer, and he presses into you, bottoming out with one firm thrust. You chant his name like a mantra as he set a bruising pace, rutting into you recklessly, wet skin slapping on skin the only other sound beside your whimpers and his growls. His teeth nip at your shoulder, sharp fangs testing your skin and claws digging into the fat of your hips. His cock is so deep, hot swollen tip kissing your cervix with every full-bodied thrust and sending you into a euphoric haze. Your own claws are sinking into his back, leaving little trails of red and blood beading down the lines. It drives him wild every time.

“That’s right, little omega. Mark me up, I’m all yours. Fuck you’re so pretty underneath me like this.” His hands grip behind your knees and press them into your chest, folding you nearly in half as he plows into you further. The angle knocks the breath from your lungs and your eyes roll back. You can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel how his thrusts are getting more controlled and his grip on your thighs tighten from the sheer concentration it’s taking for him not to breed you. You have other plans. Between wheezed breaths you squeak out.

“H-hantaaa~” He slows to a near snail’s pace, grinding his slowly growing cock into your sweet spot, a smirk stretching across his face as you splutter from the sudden change. He’s enjoying making you squirm.

“What is it, sweetness? Tell your alpha what you need.” You pant, chest heaving as much as the position will allow.

“Want your mark, want your knot~ Wanna be bred Hanta! I want your pups!” He stills completely, claws digging into the fat of your thighs with enough force to have drops of blood falling to the sheets beneath you. You’d never said anything like that in the heat of the moment. He can’t have heard you correctly...right?

“Princesa, do you know what you just said?” The seriousness in his tone has you sobering, but even before you knew exactly what you were saying. You nod frantically, wiggling your hips to get him to move again.

“Yes! I know alpha! Please, give me your knot~” His growl makes your bones shake, and with no warning he drops your legs around his waist and leans down so his face is buried in your neck.

“Fuck, I’m gonna trust you with this baby girl. I’ll give you exactly what you want.” His fangs sink into your scent gland just as he picks up his brutal pace, and the euphoria makes you cum hard, your whole body locking up and mouth falling open in a silent scream. He plows into you as you regain your breath, and you bite down on his own scent gland as hard as you can, tearing into his skin with every intention of leaving a pretty scar for the world to see.

His knot swells more, and he’s pushing it into you with every ounce of power he can generate with that gorgeous body of his. With one final snap of his hips he locks his body to yours and cums hard, ropes of hot seed filling you to the brim. He collapses on top of you and laps at the wound on your neck and you do the same. After a few minutes he leans back and cups your face in his hand, gazing down at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

“Are you alright?” You nod, nuzzling into his palm.

“I’m sorry. I was gonna talk to you about it, but my heat came early.” He kisses your forehead gently, brushing the strands of hair from your face.

“It’s okay, pretty thing. I trust you know what you’re getting yourself into.” You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

“Of course I do. I love you, Hanta.”

“I love you too.” You lay there, tangled in each other’s arms until his knot goes down. You whine at the loss when his cock slips out of you, clawing at him to come back because you’re still in heat. His hand gently wraps around your neck, a low chuckle on his lips.

“Relax, we’re far from done.” His already hard erection rubs up and down your glistening folds, barely stimulating your clit, teasing you until tears prick your eyes and you’re beggin him to fuck you again.

“When I’m done you won’t be able to walk for days. I’m gonna breed you so well, You’re gonna look so pretty all big and round with my pups.” He groans at the image he’d conjured in his head and you squeal as he slams his hips into you.

You’re in for a wonderfully long night.

[ptergwen]

no sleep

pairing: singer!reader x tom holland || w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and many many many suggestive jokes

summary: you’re on jimmy kimmel to talk about your music, but he has other plans

a/n: y’all i’ve literally always wanted to write singer!reader and this idea just came to me and i had to get it out because it’s so cute :,) i really hope ya like it

-

jimmy kimmel invited you onto his show to promote a single from your upcoming album. you stepped out of the spotlight for a while, so this is your first official appearance of the year.

“my first guest tonight...” there’s a cheer from the audience. you grin to yourself, waiting for jimmy to finish announcing you.

“you wanna say it for me?” he chuckles and stands your picture up on his desk. “my first guest tonight surprised fans this morning with her new single ‘no sleep.’ it’s currently number one in over seventy countries.” jimmy holds for applause, which you get a ton of. you cover your hot face with your hands.

“she’s here to talk to us about the song and her short hiatus. please welcome y/n y/l/n!”

the music plays while you walk onstage, followed by more cheers and clapping. you’re beaming as you wave to everyone. you give jimmy a quick hug and exchange hello’s over the noise.

you’ve been in the industry for a few years, but you’ll never get used to responses like this. all the love really warms your heart.

“thank you!” you giggle out, taking your seat on the couch. the audience yells some more when the music dies out. “thank you so much! oh my god,” you make a face at jimmy, who laughs and gestures to everyone. “they clearly hated the song,” he jokes to you. “i was gonna say,” you agree, smoothing your dress down.

you look out at the crowd with a pout. “no, seriously. you guys are so cute.” jimmy copies your pout, earning a playful eye roll from you.

you’ve been on the show a couple of times before, so you two are friendly. tom has also brought you to chill backstage with him when he was a guest. you would’ve brought him this time if he wasn’t away for filming.

“so, you took most of the year off from making music,” jimmy starts the actual conversation. “mhm, i did,” you hum and cross one of your legs over the other. “how was that? was it weird not being in the studio?” you scrunch your face up, then he adds another question. “what did you actually do with yourself?”

“i mean, music is obviously a big part of who i am. making it, loving it, all that stuff.” a small smile crosses your face. “so, yeah. it sort of felt like something was missing at first.” jimmy nods along, you shrugging one of your shoulders.

“at the same time, i really needed to take a minute and just breathe. come back with my shit more together. i think i have,” you let out a reflective sigh. “it didn’t have anything to do with your boyfriend? a mr. tom holland?” jimmy teases, you waving a hand at him. “no, don’t give him all the credit.”

your break genuinely was for yourself. no one needs to know that tom was also off, or that he spent all his free time with you. that was just a plus.

“are you sure? because, it seemed like you two were getting really cozy.” a picture from your instagram pops up on the screen. it’s of tom under a blanket. he’s reaching out for you with a lazy smile. you lean over on the couch so you’re off camera, another giggle escaping you.

jimmy flips to another picture. “that was exhibit A. here’s exhibit B.” the whole audience coos, jimmy raising his eyebrows at you. this one is a mirror selfie from tom’s instagram. your arms are slung around his neck from behind, and half your face is hidden. tom is doing his signature eye crinkling smile into the camera.

“aren’t they just adorable?” jimmy asks the audience, making them erupt in more cheers. you sit up again and clear your throat. seeing those is bittersweet for you. “he’s very cuddly. anyway, back to the music!” you do a small clap. little do you know, there’s much more to come.

“yes, yes. back to the music. talk to me about ‘no sleep.’” the song is one hundred percent about tom. you’re not sure you should say that, considering the... explicit content in it. you and tom did get very cozy over your break, as jimmy would say. it was the only time you weren’t relaxing.

“well,” you plaster on an overly happy smile. that earns more laughter from jimmy. “it’s about what you do in bed when you’re, um, not sleeping,” you explain. “and who do you do those things in bed with?” jimmy glances up at the screen again. “you’re choosing violence today, jimmy,” you say under your breath.

there’s a chuckle from backstage that sounds eerily similar to tom’s. it must have been a PA. all this talk about him is seriously fucking with your head.

“well, everyone in my life inspires my work in some way. they’re such angels,” you dodge the question, thinking you’re clever about it. jimmy won’t let you get off that easy. “friends? family?” he asks you. “yeah, everyone,” you exhale in relief. jimmy widens his eyes at you. “so, that means ‘no sleep’ is about your mom?”

your mouth falls open. he’s really going to make you spill the details of your sex life.

“what the fuck, no!” you squeal, looking out into the audience for help. they join in your laughter. “it’s about tom,” you finally confirm so jimmy doesn’t suggest anything else. “it’s about tom, my god. next topic.” you’re smiling despite yourself.

“why? don’t you wanna tell us more about your lover?” jimmy glances off to the side. what is going on back there? you sit up straighter in your spot. “no, this is my interview!” you’re half joking, half serious.

although you and tom aren’t private at all, you’ve never talked about him this much. it’s overwhelming. besides that, this is making you miss him a lot.

“that’s too bad. we thought... we thought you might like to share it,” jimmy is already grinning about whatever he has planned. this isn’t supposed to be part of your segment. “huh? i’m literally so lost.” you furrow your eyebrows at him, lowering your voice. “we didn’t talk about this.”

he pats the arm of your couch. “they say there’s no time like the present. ladies and gentlemen, tom holland!”

on cue, tom runs out from backstage. the audience practically roars with how loud they are. people even jump out of their seats. you clasp a hand over your mouth in pure shock. this feels like a prank, like jimmy is about to say sike. then, tom comes up to the couch. you almost fall over, jimmy proudly watching on.

tom grins so wide it takes up his whole face. “happy release day,” he murmurs as you get to your feet. you’re not able to speak just yet, only staring up at him with glossy eyes. he brings you into a tight hug. his hands rub up and down your back, your arms snaking around his middle.

“tommy,” you try to whisper the nickname. you forgot your microphone is on. everyone “aw’s” at you both, including jimmy. “my love,” tom’s lips brush your cheek briefly. “hi, baby,” he speaks into your ear. you hide your face in his button up while he rocks you side to side.

he’s been away for a couple of months working on the third spider-man. this is the first time you’ve seen him since he left.

“shouldn’t you be in atlanta?” you ask louder this time for the audience to hear. you’re still doing an interview. “today’s a big day. i had to see you,” tom gives you one last squeeze. “in person,” he adds, before you can say you already facetimed.

the fact that him and jimmy put this whole thing together is making you emotional. you’d be fully crying if you two were alone right now.

“she doesn’t want you here, though. remember?” jimmy chimes in, tom breathing out a laugh. he sadly lets go of you. you flop back onto the couch, tom pointing behind him with his thumb. “i’ll just be on my way. five hour flight, no big deal.” “no, no, no, no. stay,” you whine and make grabby hands at him.

that’s all it takes for tom to slip into the spot next to you. he bites back a smile, putting an arm around you and the couch. you don’t want to annoy everyone with too much pda, so you subtly curl into his side. the people actually love you and tom together. jimmy claps his hands.

“we’ll be right back with y/n y/l/n and tom holland!” he says into the camera, the band playing more filler music. he steps out from behind the desk to greet tom. tom stands up, the two of them giving each other pats on the back. the camera stops rolling.

“hey, man. thanks for doing this,” tom puts a hand on jimmy’s arm. “anything for the happy couple. i’m gonna get some water, see you in five.” jimmy shoots you another smile on his way to his dressing room. you return it. that leaves you and tom to yourselves.

“baby,” you say in a sing song voice, dropping your head onto tom’s shoulder. “i’m so happy you’re here. i real life almost peed when you came out.” tom snakes his arm around your waist. “that would be upsetting,” he mumbles, his index finger drawing circles on you. “it would’ve ruined your very pretty dress.”

“you like it?” you knowingly tug at the form fitting material. tom shifts in his spot. “i’ll tell you what,” he leans in closer to you with a smirk, his breath tickling your ear. “we’re getting no sleep tonight,” he sings from the chorus of your song. you burst into a giggle and squeeze your eyes shut.

he ends up being right.