#when i have more free time i might make some

[ellieputellas]

prove you wrong | alexia putellas x reader

You carelessly tell everyone you've never been sexually satisfied to piss off your fuck buddy, Alexia. She decides to prove you wrong and make it known to everyone just how wrong you are. | Inspired by these requests: (1) (2)

tags / contains: wc: 5k, friends with benefits, jealous!alexia, rough sex, strap r!receiving, fingering r!receiving, breath play, a lot of dirty talk, usage of degrading language and names, a bit of orgasm control, dacryphilia if u squint, set when lucy was in barça, semi-public sex kinda

masterlist | please do not repost or plagiarize.

It's been months since you last saw Alexia.

She’s been extremely busy with football, brand deals, and events. As her friend, it made you incredibly proud to see her achieving so much. She’s worked so hard and it was about time that she was able to reap her benefits and gain the recognition she so badly deserved.

But as her fuck buddy, the feral, needy side of you was just writhing with sexual frustration and yearning, wanting her to fuck you after every time you’d watch a game of hers.

You tried touching yourself, trying every new vibrator and toy available in the market but not a single toy could replicate the way Alexia made you feel. The way she moved her tongue, her fingers, her hips – it always drove you insane. Every single time with Alexia left you in a dreamy state for days. The sore muscles from all the positions she put you in always left you aching for days, but you loved every bit of it—each ache serving as a lingering reminder of that night.

On different occasions, you wanted to just text her and beg her to come over and fuck the living daylights out of you but it just felt like you might be crossing the line. You two usually just fucked whenever you had free time to spend together; asking her to make time from her busy schedule just felt personal and… intimate. So, instead, you’d sulk at home and try every single possible way of fiddling with yourself to no avail.

Feeling desperate and horny, you made the mistake of making out with Alexia’s friend and teammate Lucy Bronze. You bumped into her during a night out with friends wherein she recognized you as Alexia’s friend from college. A couple drinks down and one thing led to another.

Even if Lucy was an excellent kisser, you didn’t feel the same electric connection with Lucy that you had with Alexia. Though, since then, you’ve maintained close contact with the Brit.

Despite several attempts of hitting on you, you never really responded to any of Lucy’s booty calls. You knew Alexia and you were just friends with benefits but somehow, you felt like it was wrong to do anything more with a friend of hers. It wasn’t as if you two were exclusive… but you still felt hesitant.

Although, after a while, you grew more and more frustrated with Alexia. How was it possible that Lucy had enough free time to hit you up but Alexia seemed too busy to even send you a naughty pic or even just a cheeky message? You felt neglected and increasingly sexually frustrated.

Little did you know that word had gotten to Alexia that you made out with Lucy.

Ever since the two of you started hooking up, Alexia had grown increasingly infatuated with you, craving the feel of your skin and the taste of your lips at every waking moment. If she could, she'd have you beneath her every day of the week. But as life got busier for both of you, she held back, reasoning that it would be selfish to hit you up randomly in the middle of a busy week just to scratch an itch. Besides, she had always been the one to initiate before, and this time, she decided to wait. She waited to see if you wanted her as desperately as she wanted you.

But the silence from you was deafening.

No late-night texts, no "I miss you," not even a casual "wyd." At first, she convinced herself you were just busy. Then she heard through the grapevine that you'd been kissing one of her teammates at some club.

The news hit her like a punch to the gut, leaving her pissed off and bitter. If you'd moved on or decided to have fun with some other girl, fine, you weren’t in a relationship anyway — but it didn't make it sting any less. And to top it off, she had to find out from someone else that you were attending the team’s victory party at Lucy’s place.

The audacity, Alexia thought bitterly. Even if it technically was Lucy’s party, she thought you’d have the decency to refuse or to even just give her a heads-up, knowing that it might be weird to be around Alexia and Lucy. No decency at all.

When you got the invite, you hesitated. But then you decided this was your chance to remind Alexia exactly what she had seemingly forgotten about. After all, she'd ghosted you out of nowhere, leaving you high and dry after giving you the best sex of your life.

So, the night of the party, you slipped into a tight black dress that hugged every curve and sprayed on the perfume you knew drove Alexia crazy. If she thought she could move on so easily, you were more than ready to remind her of what she'd lost.

As soon as you entered Lucy’s place, she was the first person you saw.

It wasn't hard for you to see her. She was usually taller than most girls and she always just exuded a confident energy that never failed to catch everyone's attention. She was wearing a black cap and a black jacket, with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows exposing her muscular forearms. Your mind tried not to remember all the times you watched the veins in her arm bulge out so slightly as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

You locked eyes and her jaw instantly clenched. She looked upset. You would have felt a bit bad about never reaching out to congratulate her on all those winning games or even checking up on her if you didn't see her arm around a shorter girl you didn’t recognize.

Great. I've been replaced.

You rolled your eyes and headed to the corner of the house where Lucy and her other friends were seated.

"Hey, mami." Lucy greeted you. She stood up and gave you a kiss on the cheek, immediately snaking a hand around your waist. You loved how Lucy was never secretive of her finding you irresistible. Once or twice, you thought about riding that strong jaw but you figured you had to see out a complex friends-with-benefits relationship before entering another one. "Looks like we're all out of seats. Why don't you sit on my lap instead?"

You smirked. "You just would grab any opportunity to have me on top of you, huh?"

She smirked, biting her lip. "You know it."

You sat on Lucy's lap sideways, arms around her to secure your spot as your legs dangled on her side. She put her hands around you with her left hand on your back and the other drawing small spirals on your bare lap.

Alexia must have caught sight of this because you saw her looking over, jaw clenched and eyes darkened.

“I’m just so glad this season is done. I seriously need to go out to the clubs and get laid… get all that tension out of my body.” Patri, who was sitting on the floor beside Pina and Salma, complained to the group before taking a swig from her beer. “Nothing like unwinding to a girl between your legs.”

The crowd chuckled. Ingrid playfully threw a rolled up paper towel at Patri calling her gross. You smiled and nodded along as you let Lucy run her hands up and down your leg. “Thirsty, pretty girl?” She asked.

You shook your head. “You?”

“Hmm, why don’t you grab that beer and help me out?” She asked. You smiled as you grabbed the beer with your free hand and put the bottle against Lucy’s mouth, tipping it a bit as you let her drink from it. You bit your lip as the older girl maintained intense eye contact as you did.

Alexia was practically seething from the sight of it but continued to ignore you, staying at the other side of the room. The girl in her arms was trying to chat her up, asking about football or whatever, but all she could focus on was you.

The conversation continued with the group. “I’d hate to be single right now. How do you have the energy to go out and exert all that effort just to get laid?” Mapi exclaimed as she put an arm around her girlfriend who was sitting beside her. “If I were single, I’d rather just grab my vibrator and call it a day.”

Patri rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that cause you have Ingrid.” She retorted. “If you were single, you’d be out there in the clubs with us too.”

You could feel Lucy’s body vibrate against you as she chuckled. You grabbed Lucy’s bottle of beer, drinking from it as you continued to listen in on the conversation that was unfolding.

“I agree with Patri.” Irene chimed in, swirling a plastic cup with her hand. “I’d hate to be single and always end up masturbating at night. That would make me miserable.”

Patri nodded, as she raised her bottle high up. “Exactly, exactly!”

“The orgasm you get from a girl does not compare to one you get alone.” Irene added on, garnering a slow clap from the drunken Patri.

You laughed at the interaction. Lucy turned to you with a small smirk. "How about you? What do you think?"

You paused. You noticed Alexia move closer to our group. You hummed in thought, returning your gaze back to Lucy. "I don't know. I feel like it depends. It's a case-to-case basis and it just depends on who your partner is and what you want." You said, loud enough for others to hear. “So, yeah, I don’t have a clear cut answer.”

Mapi nodded to what you said. “Yeah, but having to find someone who suits you… it just takes too much time. If you’re single, you’re basically gambling every single time you decide to sleep with someone.” She said as she shook her head. “Besides, why would you want someone you barely met handling your precious goods?”

“We get it, Mapi. You’re in a loving relationship where you have sweet, sweet, compatible sex.” Patri said, rolling her eyes and making the crowd chuckle.

Before the two could continue debating, Pina chimed in. “Capitana,” She called Alexia over. "Settle the debate for us. What's a better way of unwinding after football season — masturbating or going out to have someone take care of it for you?"

Alexia moved closer to the group, an arm wrapped around a girl and her other hand wrapped around a red cup. She looked serious with her eyes still fixed on you. "She hasn't actually answered the question yet." She responded, looking at you as she tilted her cup at your direction.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, defeated. "I guess, I'd choose just making myself cum."

Mapi nodded smugly at Patri who felt annoyed.

"Really? I always pegged you as a pillow princess type. Like... the type who has to be pleased by someone else?" Lucy asked, fingertips still suggestively grazing your thighs

You hummed in thought. "Well, I haven’t found anyone who pleases me better than I do myself.” You lied with a shrug, looking directly at Lucy and avoiding Alexia’s gaze. “Why bother trying to find someone to aimlessly poke at me until I fake it when I can just take care of it myself?”

The group laughed at your statement but Alexia remained stoic and stiff. "Really?" Her voice dripped with thinly veiled annoyance. "Are you trying to say that no one has ever made you cum before? You always just fake it?”

“Yeah, no one really comes to mind.” You shook your head. "Besides, I'd much rather spend a night getting tired out by my vibrator rather than to be disappointed by some tryhard who fingers like they have carpal tunnel or eats me out with the same limp energy of an old man with his porridge."

The crowd laughed even harder but Alexia looked even more annoyed. If everyone was sober and in the right mind, they'd catch on to her reaction to your bold statement and figure out there was definitely something between the two of you.

You tried to laugh along but you felt weirdly nervous about lying. Alexia didn’t seem too pleased with your statement. Why is she so pissed off? It’s not as if anyone here knows we’ve slept together.

You were pulled out of your worries when you felt Lucy’s hands move higher up your leg, skimming the skin under your tight dress.

"Why don't you give the poor vibrator a rest from tiring you out," Lucy whispered, playfully using your own words. "And have me give it a try?"

You moved closer to her. "Hmm, I don’t know. Aren’t we just friends now?" You said softly so that the group wouldn’t hear too but still loud enough for Alexia to hear, if she tried hard enough. “Sex might just complicate that.”

“C’mon, we already kissed.” Lucy smiled with eyes that flickered from your eyes to your lips. "Besides, isn’t it worth risking it? I know I can pleasure you better than anyone else ever had.”

You smiled and playfully caressed her strong jaw with your fingers. “Well…” You trailed off seductively in a low voice, moving closer to Lucy’s face. "I've always wanted to feel that strong jaw against—"

Your flirting was cut abruptly when Alexia angrily threw her crumpled red cup to the ground and walked out of Lucy’s place. Everyone looked around confused, including the girl she was with. She blinked curiously as her eyes stuck at the door, wondering why Alexia had left so abruptly; the poor girl was just talking about her new manicure.

"Damn, I guess, no one's making her cum either." Patri joked, garnering a bunch of playful slaps and chuckles from the group but the room still seemed to be confused; Alexia was never the type to storm out in anger out of nowhere.

You tried to just shake off Alexia's mood swing and returned to flirting with Lucy but just minutes later, Alexia was storming back into the living room. She stomped her way to you and grabbed your hand, basically yanking you off of Lucy. You nearly tripped over your own feet as she grabbed you.

"What the fuck, Alexia?" You exclaimed as you were pulled by the arm by the tall blonde. "That fucking hurts. What's your problem?"

She didn't speak up. She basically dragged across the house until you reached what seemed like Lucy’s bedroom. She slammed the door loudly and locked it behind her.

Now that you were alone, you could see the annoyed look on her face, the redness across her cheeks, the tightness of her expression… and the slight bulge in her pants. Oh... that's what she had to get from her car when she stormed out.

She slammed you against the bedroom door, towering over you and trapping you with her arms. You gulped as you felt your back press flatly against the door.

Alexia suddenly grabbed your face with one hand, gripping so hard your lips were almost puckering out. "Why are you running your mouth about how no one's made you cum?" She said with a low, threatening voice. Her hazel eyes had darkened under the dim lights of the bedroom.

You stared at her, blinking your eyes in fear. She was so frightening when she was mad; it was like she was a completely different person. Her eyes, which were usually warm, were staring at you pointedly. All of the muscles in her face clenched as she slightly grit her teeth. And, while you were actually scared, you were also getting incredibly turned on.

Alexia squished your face harder, slamming her other hand on the door. You felt the wood pressed behind you vibrate with the force. "Answer." She leaned in and aggressively bit the side of your neck, sinking her teeth into you.

You gasped loudly in shock. "Ahh, Alexia, that really hurts."

She ignored you. She moved her head back to stare you in the eyes before she wrapped her hand around your throat. "Tell me who makes you cum." She asked.

You gulped as you felt her hand tighten slowly. "I'm sorry, Alexia." You responded, feeling incredibly nervous and intimidated. "I'm sorry I lied. I was just joking. I just missed you so much and I was frustrated that you never contacted me and I just wanted to see you react to —"

You gagged as her hand suddenly got tighter. "I didn't ask for an explanation." She growled. "I asked who fucking makes you cum."

You gasped for air as her hand loosened a bit. "It's you, baby. It's just you." You croaked out.

"What did you just fucking call me?" She growled in your ear; you felt the familiar electric tingle in your spine as she breathed heavily against your ear. “You don’t get to fucking call me that when you’ve been such a brat.”

"Alexia," You moaned, correcting yourself. "It's you, Alexia. It's you who makes me cum. Only you make me cum, Alexia.."

You felt like a blubbering mess but Alexia seemed pleased because she let your throat go, and fondly touched your cheek instead with her thumb. You inhaled deeply before leaning towards her to kiss her but she moved away.

"Bad girls don't get kisses." Her mouth quirked up into a smirk. "Bad girls get on their knees instead and offer their mouth like a slut."

You looked down again and you were once again reminded of the strap poking against the front of her denim pants. You gulped but got on your knees and slowly unbuttoned her baggy jeans which revealed a harnessed strap-on above her Calvin Klein underwear.

You bit your lip. You gasped when Alexia grabbed a chunk of your hair and looked down on you. "Open your mouth." She said as she tilted your head back with her hand.

You opened your mouth, obediently. "Now, stick your tongue out, you fucking slut." She ordered in a low but firm voice.

You didn't let a second pass before you followed her instructions, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out as far as it could go. She smiled at your obedience before leaning over and spitting in your mouth. You nearly moaned just from the action but before anything could escape your mouth, she slammed her hips against my throat and fucked your mouth with her silicone member.

She grunted and cursed as she watched you suck and gag on it. "That’s right. Suck like a good girl."

You moaned in response as you eagerly sucked on the strap as if your life depended on it. You were gagging a lot with Alexia’s force and your face was streaked with tears but you felt incredibly turned on by the sight and the feeling.

Alexia was gasping and groaning as the base of her strap pressed against her own clit, forming a dark pool on her grey underwear. You moaned at the combination of the sound of her guttural moans and the smell of her wetness. You could practically feel your core grow more and more moist by the second.

"Fucking suck harder, you fucking slut." Her voice sounded venomous with all the expletives she was hissing out. "You don't get to flirt with other bitches in front of me. I own you."

"Or do you just let any other bitch fuck you like this?" She grunted out, looking down at you. Alexia never went this rough with you before but she was starting to enjoy it, especially the sight of your tear-stained face and puffy lips wrapped around her strap. "Are you that much of a pathetic whore? You just let anyone fuck your throat like this?"

You shook your head, unable to speak as she was filling your mouth with the silicone. She moaned out as she pushed your head even further.

You felt tears sting your eyes as she thrusted in your throat with such vigor and roughness. For a moment, you felt like you were just a doll made to satisfy her lust and oddly, it made your core ache more for her.

Alexia tilted her head back, thrusting against your throat. The base of the strap was perfectly hitting against her clit. It felt satisfying knowing she was getting off of fucking your mouth with her strap even if that meant that your throat would be sore in the morning.

"That's right, cariño." She moaned out. "Take all of me.”

It didn't take long until Alexia moaned out. She pulled your head off of her, making a satisfying sound as it exited your mouth. You coughed and wiped the tears and saliva off of your face, clutching your throat as you started to feel the discomfort spread.

Before you could even do or say anything more, Alexia yanked you up immediately and pushed you towards the bed. You fell backwards on the bed, feeling your dress ride up on your body, pooling together near your hips which meant your underwear could be easily seen by the blonde gir.

You felt so exposed and vulnerable.

She took off her jacket and her shirt, revealing her Calvin Klein sports bra and her toned stomach glistening with sweat. You bit your lip as she walked closer to the bed. The dim light entering the windows from the street lights outside and the small night light in the corner of the room was accentuating every contour of her body.

"Strip. Now."

You frantically tried to remove your tight dress. It made it so difficult to remove as some of it clung to your sweaty skin. You felt unsexy wriggling out of it in bed. But, you also felt nervous, knowing Alexia wasn't always the patient type in bed.

"Hurry the fuck up." She groaned. You tried but she grew more frustrated. She took your dress and pulled it off your body roughly. You heard some seams rip as she did but you didn't give a fuck. You were more concerned about her impatience and how it was gonna affect you.

You were mostly bare in front of her, only wearing a pair of lacy black underwear which was now glistening with your translucent nectar.

She chuckled. "You really are a little slut." She said as she used a finger to graze your core, making you whimper. "Look how wet you got just from getting throatfucked by me. I haven't even touched you and your cunt is all drenched."

"Yes, Alexia." You moaned out as she pressed a finger against your clit.

"You really were talking your shit about how no one makes you cum while your cunt is quivering and soaking wet just from giving me a blowjob." Her fingers were so delicate against your core — a weird juxtaposition with the roughness of her words. "I wonder what everyone else would think if they heard you moaning out my name just after you lied out there. They'd think less of you... they'd think you're a dirty liar who loves to provoke just to get fucked. Isn't that right?"

You gulped and bit your lip as she gently moved her fingers up and down your opening, teasing you with the pad of her fingers.

You were broken out of a trance when her hand was squeezing your face again. "Answer me."

"Yes, yes, Alexia." You responded, almost out of breath. “I’m a liar.”

"And I don’t like liars. Right, cariño?" She let go of your face and backed away slowly.

Before you could respond, two fingers were thrust into your hole, roughly fucking you. You moaned out loudly as you felt Alexia's fingers rapidly move inside you with complete disregard of letting you adjust to her fingers. She leaned over to your breasts, sucking on them so roughly that it was almost painful.

"Alexia," You moaned out. "Please give me your strap. Alexia, please."

Alexia ignored you as she continued to fuck you with her fingers and suck on your torso, leaving you branded with bruises all over and glistening with a mixture of your sweat and her saliva.

"Alexia, please." You whimpered.

She groaned loudly before pulling her fingers out of you. You don't know how but she managed to get you off of the bed and pressed against the door again in a swift motion. This time, your front was pressed against the door — hands against the cold wood — with your butt sticking out.

She grunted out curt instructions for you to steady yourself against the door as she positioned herself behind you. She gripped your waist roughly with her long fingers as she rubbed your cunt with the length of her strap. You bit your lip, holding back your moans, too afraid that your proximity to the door would mean everyone out there would hear you, even with the music they were playing.

You grunted out when you felt her grab your hair and mutter in your ear. "You better not choke down those moans, cariño."

She let go of your hair before slamming the entire length of the strap inside you. You moaned out loudly, struggling to grip yoyr hands against the flat door.

"Baby, it hurts.” You winced as you felt her begin to thrust.

"Who said you can call me baby again?" She practically shouted it before raising her hand, landing it on your right ass. It made a loud sound, quickly followed by your loud cry of pain and pleasure.

"I’m sorry, Alexia." You responded. Alexia grabbed on to your waist again, thrusting her silicone dick in and out of you. You were feeling the pain in your core as the silicone stretched you but it was such an addictive pain. It felt so satisfying being filled by Alexia like this.

Alexia must have sensed how close you were to an orgasm because she picked up the pace. The base of the strap hitting your slick vagina which made a loud sound, accompanying your loud moans and Alexia's grunts.

"Alexia, don't stop. I'm so close. Please." You moaned out, hands and legs shaking.

"Don't cum until I tell you." Alexia's voice was strained as well. You knew the base of the strap was rubbing against her own clit too. "If you cum before I do, I will take you out of this room and fuck you in front of everyone else so they can see how much of a fucking, lying whore you really are."

You moaned at that statement, making it even harder for you to delay your orgasm. You felt your walls clench against the strap. Alexia picked up the speed even more, driving you into a frenzy. You were practically a blubbering mess — face pressed against the door and hands trying to cling on to the flat surface as a string of incoherent moans and words left your mouth.

"Alexia, please." You felt like you were going to collapse any moment soon, struggling to keep your clammy hands from slipping off of the door.

Alexia slammed her dick into you a couple times more before saying, "Cum."

You almost shouted in pleasure as you felt the orgasm ripple through your body, making your legs feel like jelly. You felt the warmth spread through you as you exclaimed her name another time as Alexia thrust a few more times to ride out her own orgasm.

You wanted to fall on the floor and just lay there but Alexia's grip on your hips remained firm that it was almost impossible for you to fall over. She put you upright again, one hand firmly on your hips and the other cupping your chest as she helped you up. She gently guided you back to bed.

You laid on your back, out of breathe as she crawled on top of you. "No one makes you cum right?" She teased.

You rolled your eyes to playfully smack her but she caught your hand smoothly and put it above your head. "I'm not done with you." Her serious face was back.

Your eyes widened. You felt like your body would give up on you if you werefucked again but that didn't seem to stop Alexia.

Her hand found its way to your cunt. You felt her thumb and index finger gently fiddle with your clit before pressing roughly, then pinching it.

"Alexia!" You yelped, instinctively pushing on her shoulders a bit

She let go of your clit and began roughly rubbing instead. You put your arms around her shoulders, holding her closer as she rubbed your core. She moved closer to yoy before kissing and sucking on your neck, leaving more bruises for you to worry about the next morning.

"Oh, Ale, that feels so good." You said in a hum of pleasure as your eyes fluttered shut.

Alexia managed to push the hood off of your clit and began gently rubbing and flicking against the tiny, sensitive part of it, overstimulating you. You moaned out again and tightened your hold of her.

"Who makes you cum?" She asked in your ear.

"You."

"Say my name." She ordered before sinking her teeth on your collarbone and sinking her two fingers back into your vagina.

You gasped before you shouted. "Alexia! Alexia! It's you, Alexia!"

She continued to kiss your neck as she fucked you with her fingers and rubbed your clit with her thumb.

"Alexia, I'm close! I'm so close!" You moaned out as she pumped in and out. "Alexia! Please!"

"Cum for me, cariño." She whispered so gently and as she did, you shouted out her name as you held on to her, experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life.

She chuckled. "Hmm, I don't think you've squirted this much before."

Yoy blinked a bit before sitting up to see that Lucy's bed was completely drenched. You felt your face become red as you realized the mess you two have made.

Alexia was smiling, satisfied at her work. You pouted your lips as you looked at her. "Baby, can I have kisses now?"

She leaned close to your face again. "Only if my princess promises she's going to be a good girl from now on."

"Yes, Alexia." You said, pouting your lips as you looked into your eyes. You gave her an irresistible wide-eyed innocent look — the kind you knew she could never resist.

She smirked before she leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss. You grabbed on to the back of her neck to deepen the kiss but just a while after, she pulled away. "Why don't I take you back to my place and then you can let my neighbors hearyour pretty little moans too?"

You chuckled. "Okay, Alexia."

You got up from the bed, and got dressed with Alexia. She apologized for ruining your dress but she didn't really look sorry for it. She actually looked proud and smug. You straightened up your appearance as much as you could before Alexia and you stepped out of the room.

To your shock, a few people from the group earlier were hovering near the bedroom door with mixed expressions of horror and amusement. They tried to not make it obvious that they heard you get absolutely wrecked by Alexia.

“Damn,” Patri shook her head as she turned to Mapi. “I want whatever those two are having.”

a/n: i barely edited this and proofread it once. i might have fucked up with some pronouns and would appreciate if anyone dms me to correct hehe. anyway, i hope you guys liked it esp since this is more intense and rougher than everything i’ve ever written before. tags: @micaluvssoccer @buzzinrusso @hermen0404 @mrcat77 @oh-thats-cute @iamagoddess1 @noone-find-me @zairaaaa @vlt4845 @oakwave @sam23114 @louxbloom @ppx004 @serynsworld @oohtobeagooner @daylightisa @xxforeverinadayxx @itsandreaca @liagracexx @julesthegreatsimp p @mysticfalls01 @maddiewrites11 @besitosakusa @alexiputellas-protector @wosoloverthings @alexiaswiftie @katycat0811 @femmefataledotcom @footygirl114 @baddestbittyontheblock @wosolipa @mpileons @girlmineis @a-pute11as @hella-hecka-gay @alexiaputellasera a + more but i couldnt tag u all aaa

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

You land hard, elbows hitting the ground with a jolt of pain, but it’s nothing compared to the realization that someone is screaming—Blue is screaming. The heat in your veins fizzles, your heart jolting. Ghost has already sped off toward camp, pulling a knife from his ankle, and you scramble to your feet to follow.

Your movements are clumsy, your mind replaying the last few seconds, searching for any signs of trouble you might have missed. The air is clear, the trees are quiet, the ground is still. Yet, as you weave through the tall grasses that swipe at your ankles, you finally hear it—muffled voices, unmistakably human. They grow sharper with each step you take. 

Ghost reaches camp first, stopping in a lethal stance. You roll in just behind him, eyes snapping to where Blue stands behind the fence, alive and aiming one of her dad’s rifles at four strangers. Still dressed in an oversized sleep shirt, she juts the rifle through a gap in the fortification. Two of the strangers are mounted on a brown horse, while the other two flank their sides, backs swollen with rucksacks and chests thick with gear. There is no doubt they have weapons.

"D-don't come any closer or I'll blow your heads off! I mean it!"

“We’re not here to hurt you,” one of them says calmly. A man.

“I don’t care why you’re here! You need to leave before my dad…” Her eyes flicker to you. “Dad!”

When their heads turn in your direction, you waste no time arching the knife over your head. You’re not much without your bow, but this is all you have.

In a split second, your eyes land on the burliest of the group, a man with a boonie hat and a dense, brown beard. He was the one speaking. The leader, maybe. You aim the knife for his head, but before you can throw it, Ghost grabs your wrist, wrenching you to his chest without warning, the knife falling to the ground.

"Wait," he says in your ear, his breath steady against your skin. There’s a detectable lilt of surprise in his voice. You try to squirm free, but he holds tight. "Stay here."

He lets go. Confusion reels through you. Everything in you screams to pick up the knife, but you hesitate as Ghost signals for Blue to lower the gun.

He calmly walks over to the intruders, heading to the man you were aiming for. The air feels thick as you watch with parted lips, stance still readied and breath racing. Ghost stops in front of him, and the two stare at each other strangely before the man smiles.

A strong hand reaches for Ghost’s shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, Simon.”

The clanking of metal against ceramic plates and the low murmurs of a fire fill the cabin.

Your spine presses into the wall.

There isn’t a free chair at the table, but you’re not sure you’d sit in one even if there was. Blue stands beside you, hands laced in front of her. She’s silent. You are, too. The cabin feels cramped with seven people in it. It makes your skin itch. 

You can inspect them more thoroughly now that you’re not thinking about who to kill first. 

There are two men—the older one you believe Ghost called Price, and a younger one you think he called Kyle. He’s fine-looking, you figure, underneath the overgrowth of facial hair and grime smudged on his dark skin. He had a tan cap on earlier but now a head of short, black hair is free for him to slick fingers through every now and then. Then there is a woman, some years older than you. She’s beautiful in a raw, Grecian sort of way, with long black hair and a violet undertone to her skin. Lastly, a boy, maybe twelve or thirteen. It doesn't take much to discern he is related to Kyle in some way.

They all look starving, though not as much as you once were. Nevertheless, Ghost is feeding them more than scraps. Canned beans, rice, and rabbit. They shovel it into their mouths. The men have muscles on them, so they can’t have been struggling much. Based on all the supplies they carry and the horse tied to a tree outside, you’ve figured they’ve been traveling for some time. A flurry of questions runs through your brain, but your lips remain in a tight line.

Ghost hasn’t said much yet. He hasn't even explained who they are. Your slitted eyes flicker to him. While the strangers fill up the table, he hovers beside it. His body speaks more than his expression. His shoulders are not tense and lethal as they'd been when you first sat at that table scarfing down food. But they're not relaxed, either; his arms crossed, still exposed from the black tee he'd put on for training, giving way to the slight flexes in his corded muscles that signal even he is thrown off by their presence. 

But he trusts them enough to let them in here. With the way they carry themselves, and the fact that Ghost hasn't killed them, they must've been in the military together. He doesn't seem like the type to have had normal friends. 

Kyle speaks first.

He thrums the pads of his fingertips against the wood and clears his throat, breaking your thoughts. "We were hoping you'd still be here, but it was a shot in the dark."

"I’ve never left," Ghost says, plainly.

Kyle sips from his mug and wipes his mouth, then his eyes shift in your direction. You meet his gaze with a hardened look. 

"We're sorry for scaring you."

It takes a moment to realize his words aren't for you. Blue glances to her toes. "I wasn't scared." 

His lips lift. "Of course not. It's us who should've been scared of crossing paths with Simon Riley's kid. You did the right thing, you know. Protecting yourself."

"I didn't realize you knew my dad." She nibbles her lip and looks up. "My name is Blue, by the way. And this is..." Her eyes flick to you. "My friend, Twix."

Your tongue pokes your cheek as you look over the new faces. What are you supposed to say? 

"Hi," is all you settle on.

Ghost clears his throat. "Kid, why don't you clean some more water for them."

Blue nods dutifully, lingering only a second before pouring more river water into the pot over the fire.

"It's a strong setup you've made for yourself," Price speaks, one hand stroking his beard while he pushes the cleared plate away with the other. He leans back, boonie hat still cradling his head and casting a shadow over his eyes, but you catch a glimpse of warm brown irises that might've comforted you in any other circumstance.

"It's lasted me this long." Ghost shifts his weight slightly. "Where are you coming from?"

"Near the base by the border, further north."

"Last I heard you were in Manchester."

"Once the radios went out, we picked up my wife," he touches the woman's shoulder, "Nereida, and Kyle's nephew here, Ari, from Newcastle. Made camp with a few others. Served us well for the past five years."

Ghost slowly nods and then drawls, "And Soap?”

Price leans his forearms on the table. "Not quite sure. The base was falling apart, but he stayed back, saying he'd meet up with us once he could. That was five years ago."

You're not sure who Soap is, someone else they worked with, maybe. There is a brief pause before Ghost asks, "Why did you leave?"

"More and more of 'em, Simon," Price replies with a slight shake of his head, emitting a low breath. "Made it difficult to even get food."

"Too many of them, not enough of us," Nereida murmurs. Tired. Distant. Her hand slips under the table, out of view. You imagine it resting on Price's thigh as she leans into him with a weighted sigh. "They always seem to be moving. Not with a destination in mind, of course, but it was only a matter of time before they ruined our setup. We decided to leave before that could happen."

Kyles adds, "It wasn't an easy decision, but living in anticipation of the worst isn't really living at all."

Your brows lower. “Where exactly could you be headed that wouldn't mean living in anticipation of the worst?” you can't stop yourself from asking, the question burning in your mind. 

Price leans back, those warm brown eyes finding yours. A short heartbeat passes before he answers simply, "Switzerland."

The absurdity of that single word response forces a disbelieving, chuffed breath through your nose. Of all the things this stranger could have said, that would have to be the least expected. You anticipate an equally surprised reaction from Ghost, but he seems unnervingly unfazed. Blue, however, swivels her head from where she sits cross-legged in front of the fire.

"What the fuck is Switzerland?"

"It's another country," the boy—Ari—answers.

Blue glances between him and her dad. "Like... not in England?"

Ari snorts softly. "No, not in England. It's across the channel."

"The channel?" Blue frowns. "That's... far, isn't it?"

"Very far," Nereida confirms with a nod.

The subject is brusquely dropped when Ghost suddenly rises, reaching for their cleared plates. "You must want to bathe while you're here. There's a river nearby."

Price clears his throat. "These two can go first." He gestures to the woman and child.

Soon enough, you become irritatingly aware of what's happening; you're being shooed away, along with the kids and Nereida, so the three of them can speak privately. There isn't much room to object as you shuffle out of the cabin, carrying a handful of rags for them to wash with along with the homemade soap that you once used to wash away the grime and earth that caked up from traveling. 

The sun beats hard, the river warmer now that spring has aged. Dried sweat clings to your spine from this morning, but bathing yourself is the last thing on your mind now, not when you're still reeling in the presence of people you don't know. You swing a glance at the cabin behind your shoulder, something in your gut twisting. Ghost doesn't want you there to hear whatever they're talking about. The thought eats at you.

"This is a good spot," Blue says, stopping in front of a shallow part of the bank where the water is warmest. She hands Ari some soap and teeters on her toes. You realize why she keeps staring at him like that; he's probably the only other kid she's met in years. She is even more shy than when she first met you. "Twix and I will look away, don't worry."

You and Blue sit perched on a rock as they wash themselves. 

"This is weird," she admits quietly to you.

"Very," you mumble.

When they're done, you offer Nereida the only clean clothes you have at the moment: one of the oversized shirts Ghost gave you and some jeans. An annoyingly strange thought brandishes your brain... you don't like the way the black fabric sits on her bare chest, nipples poking through, and the hem hanging down to her knees as it does on you. You should've just given her the dirty blouse to wear.

She sits at the edge of the river, wringing her soaked hair with a rag. From the corner of your eye, you catch Blue helping Ari rinse his dirty clothes in the water. You want to keep an eye on him; your knife is still nestled around your ankle in case they try anything, though a woman and preteen don't heighten your paranoia as much. 

"How long have you two been together?"

Her soft voice makes you blink. "What?"

"You and Simon."

You're confused until you recall the revelation from earlier—the man you've known the past few months as Ghost, the one whose hard form laid beneath you just hours ago, is actually Simon. Simon Riley. You're tempted to say the name; try it out. But it is hard to reconcile with. It might taste strange on your tongue. The name fits a version of him that doesn't exist in this world now, you suppose. British. Simple. Like John or Kyle. The name of a lieutenant. The bits of his face you've witnessed crosses your mind; his nose, lips, and chin seem like Simon. The damn mask is Ghost, though.

"Jesus... I am not—" You shake your head, the sun even hotter on your neck. "I'm not with him like that. We're just allies." You glance back at the cabin in the distance and you fight a scowl. "If that."

She runs her fingers through ravenous tendrils. "Oh. I apologize for assuming."

You offer a small smile. "It's fine."

"How long have you been staying here then?"

"Um, a few months now. I used to stay with my sister and a friend, but they died."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry for your loss."

You shrug. "Everyone has lost important people."

"Doesn't make it easier," she says. "Ari's mom and younger sister used to be with us," she adds quietly with a solemn downward cast of her eyes, as if a memory has taken her for a moment. "They passed two years ago during a really rough winter along with this other couple we knew. Then it was just the four of us."

You inhale through your nose and release, frowning. "No child should have to experience that."

"No," she agrees, nodding. "They shouldn't. Which is why we're looking for a better life for him."

"And you think you'll find it in... Switzerland."

Nereida offers a half-smile, as if reading your thoughts. "We'd heard of a commune there, up in the mountains."

"A commune? Like what, a town?"

"Sort of. Just... more people, living together. Protected. Greys make awful climbers, and the mountains there are much higher than anything in the UK."

This catches your attention, and the divot between your brows deepens. "How do you know it exists?"

"Well, we can't know for certain. John heard about it at the beginning of the spread, but it was too difficult to make arrangements at the time, especially when he had to help out at the medical site and then come find me. Things were a mess, I'm sure you remember."

"Yeah, I do." You reel in her words, thinking. "That was... years ago, though. Aren't you taking a huge risk going there now? What if nothing is there?"

"Staying in England would be a risk, too," she counters. "There is nothing here except death and hardship. You can't hide from it forever."

Her words burrow deep into you during the walk back.

Is that what Ghost is talking about with them? Did he know about this place, too?

You think back to the kayak you spotted in the back of his truck, and the Plan B that you know he has despite never sharing it with you. You want to ask. But it's hard to catch him alone, not with them here. It's impossible to stay out of your thoughts, not even by the time the spring sky blackens and Ghost sets up blankets for the visitors on the cabin's floor.

You offer Ari the couch, figuring an exhausted kid needs it more than you do. He knocks out the moment he lays down.

"Here. For the night." Ghost offers you a heavy blanket and nods to the only bare spot of floor left after they've all settled down. 

You avoid his eyes and accept the blanket with a quiet thanks. The moment he's disappeared to his room, you slip outside under the starlit night, finding the flattest patch of ground to lay the blanket down, which happens to be only a few paces away from a sleeping horse. It's not the couch, but it'll do for a night or two, and you refuse to sleep in the shed again. 

You're in the midst of standing back up after straightening out your makeshift bed when you bump into something solid. A hand grips your bicep and whirls you around, a pair of darkened eyes glowering down at you.

"What are you doing?" you breathe up at him. "I don't like when you grab me like that."

"What are you doing?" he retorts, voice low and hard.

"Trying to get some sleep."

"Out here?"

You look away and shimmy out of his hold. "Does it matter where I sleep?"

"It's not safe out here."

"You had no problem sending me out here before."

"You have since earned your keep," he mutters, as if annoyed you're even mentioning the past. 

"My spot is taken for the night by your lovely friends, so for however long you plan to let them stay, I will sleep out here."

"There is a spot on the floor for you inside."

"I'm not sleeping in there." With them. 

His tone softens perceptibly. A mere breath. "They won't hurt you, Twix."

You roll your eyes away from him. "I would just rather sleep out here by myself, okay? I prefer solitude at my most vulnerable. And it's not like my experiences with militant men have been pleasant so far." You hide a wince.

Ghost emits a low huff. He suddenly rips the blanket from the ground and turns his back to you. "What are you doing?" you gape.

"You'll take my bed."

[fibfoolingart]

i swear this was just supposed to be some fun aesthetic swap doodles, but then i started thinking about The Implications and now i have a wholeass story behind this au lol

any world where grace chasity isn’t a horny, homicidal prude, we lose the original plot, so this au would revolve more around the church of the starry children then max jägerman lol

solomon decides the best way to wield power in hatchetfield is through religion instead of government and he unites all the tiny denominational churches into his church, becoming the pastor (happening around the same time steph starts middle school.)

it works. almost everyone attends solomon’s church, and it becomes a required social event for anyone who’s anyone in hatchetfield.

but it’s all a manipulation for bigger purposes as solomon slowly incorporates text from the black book, pushing the church into culty territory.

as the preacher’s kid, steph is under constant scrutiny. she might have wanted to rebel as a kid, but the wrath of god is a much bigger threat than just breaking her phone and solomon uses fear and guilt to keep her in line, turning her into a model of godly behavior (at least on the surface).

the chasitys refuse to join solomon’s church, but their small congregation shuts down when there aren’t enough people left. 

grace’s parents encourage grace to pour all her free time into individual bible study to make up for the lack of church, church activities, and church outings, but grace starts treating the bible like a textbook instead of a spiritual guide.

without structured church activities, her obsession with rules and procedures shifts to the school system

grace unknowingly separates herself from spirituality when her bible obsession becomes academic. she’s still a christian, but she’s more likely to corner you in the library to infodump about angelic hierarchies than preach about purity.

travis coulson was ruth’s older cousin. it freaked her the hell out that someone could be bullied that bad that they have to transfer and their entire life is erased for a dumbass lie that everyone believes. so ruth vows that she and her friends will never be outcasts (or timberwolves) and drags pete and richie into a "popularity pact" in fifth grade, forcing them to get cool or else.

the trio spends their summer doing research and practicing social skills. (they basically spend their time practicing masking autism and refining their ability to camouflage.)

the trio starts researching what’s cool. their findings? football players, student council presidents, and school play leads are the pinnacle of popularity. so, they throw themselves into middle school tryouts and campaigns to fit these roles:

richie tries out for football but ends up as the mascot.

ruth auditions for the lead in the school play but gets relegated to lighting tech.

pete campaigns for class president but only gets elected secretary.

instead of quitting there, they regroup and try again in high school:

richie uses the athleticism he got as a mascot to land him a spot on the swim team.

ruth works her way up to the the student/assistant director for the school plays

pete works his way up the student council ranks, eventually becoming class president.

the trio is finally just cool enough that their quirks get rebranded as "quirky-cool" instead of "weird." they still bond over star wars and anime in secret, but their popularity ensures they’re never targets again.

[alkaline-wtr]

141 x sick!reader headcanon

Description: They take care of you when you're sick. Genre/Warnings: 141 x sick!reeader, fluff, comfort, headcanon

** This is bad, oops. But here is a little bit of sick comfort because, I am sick right now and procrastinating Chapter 6 of 'We Will Survive' Enjoy.

GHOST: Whenever you're sick Ghost jumps straight into his 'doctor' role.

Rather than giving you a hug and rubbing your back soothingly like you hoped he is up poking and prodding you, asking you more questions than you care to answer.

"Yer not warm."

He says placing his calloused palm on your forehead.

"How 'bout yer head, does it hurt? Throat sore? How 'bout here does it hurt when I do this?"

He asks pressing on your side with his fingers.

"Si."

You groan swatting his hand away.

"Can't you just... Will you make me tea?"

Ghost sighs and kisses the top of your head.

"O' course love."

GAZ: The morning you wake up with a scratchy throat and a relentless sinus headache, is when Gaz is quick to take over the daily chores and responsibilities.

Cleaning and cooking are his top priorities. Anything that can keep you in bed and stress free he's on in.

Sometimes you think he's trying to heal you through food and drinks alone.

Bringing you teas, water, and softer food or soups for breakfast and lunch. For dinner he'll order takeout from your favorite place and ends the night in bed with ice-cream and your comfort show or movie.

Gaz is a sole believer in resting both your body and mind during days like this and he takes his domestic duties seriously in order to guarantee you a comfortable and clean space to relax and recover.

SOAP: Soap is known to be a bit overbearing when you're not at your best. Smothering you in affection, fluffing your pillow, and crowding your space on the couch with anything he thinks might help you feel better.

You're restricted to the couch, surrounded by water, juice, snacks, plushies, and even objects of entertainment like a game, or a book to read.

Any move you make to shift into a more comfortable position or get up to use the bathroom Soap is by your side immediately asking what you need or how to help.

You always appreciate his care and concern, but it would be nice to use the bathroom for a couple minutes in peace, without Soap knocking lightly on the door to ask if you want him to run you a bath.

PRICE: Price isn't the type to go overboard and tend to your every need. He'll start the day off giving you a simple breakfast in bed, and some medicine before bed rotting with you the rest of the day.

You both nap on and off all afternoon. He holds you in his arms brushing your hair with his fingers gently and leaving plenty of kisses on your cheeks.

It is a slow and quiet day, the TV plays softly in the background as you laze around curled into Prices chest. Curtains pulled shut to leave the room dark and obscure any sense of time you might have. As far as anyone is concerned the world is on pause and it's only you and John today.

You being sick, means he's sick too. He won't be leaving your side, and you will be resting and recovering together.

[hauntedfictionland]

❝a storm to remember❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and the heir to the iron throne, you are sent to stormlands as your brother to Winterfell, to create allies when you are met with him. Aemond Targaryen, your childhood enemy.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of violence and threats, kissing, childhood friends to enemies to lovers trope, minor injuries and blood.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: He is my guilty pleasure, man who serves face while doing the shittiest things ever aka killing. This is my first Aemond fic ever, so I hope it's not too bad, and I would love writing advices or tips in my asks or messages, so feel free to send any.

The winds were soothing, although getting heavier as Stormlands grew closer. Your one hand on the rope, and the other touching along your dragon's raspy and rather itchy skin. You sighed, as the thought of having to negotiate with Borris Baratheon, who didn't hold a single regard for your mother or any woman for that matter.

You remember your mother's words; no fighting. No bloodshed. It had made you feel strange, as though there could be a need for it. You bit your lip as the dark castle came into view, with dark clouds forming already. You did not have a good feeling about this. But you couldn't disappoint your mother either, as the heir no less. You had to fight for your birthright, which Aegon took.

A strain coming to your head at the tactics of your dragon, who wanted to fly into circles as you had taught her. She wanted to have fun, not knowing this might be the most crucial occasion of your life. When you tried calling out to her, telling her to get down to some place where you could land, she refused. She was being erratic. With a few attempts at pulling the rope, she finally complied.

“Lykiri, Tessarion.” you say, as your dragon flies lower to the ground, to make a decent landing. You smiled as she grunted, in some annoyance. She always was stubborn, and it took some time to command her.

You wondered how much time it would take Jace to reach Winterfell, a part of you was envious. You wanted to be the one to see the North, yet he was the one who got to truly see it. ‘Borros was harder to convince’, as your mother said, how she needed someone with experience in that area. How it was your job as the eldest. Sometimes you felt it was a burden rather than a privilege, being heir to the iron throne. You don't know if you even deserve it, considering who your father is; your blood father. Laenor will always be your only father to you, the one who taught you how to sit on a dragon, or the great sea snake stories.

Hate, was what you used to feel when those rumours started reaching your ears. Of your parentage. Of your mother's king's guard, ser Harwin Strong. You did whatever you could to get away from those, from him. You didn't like it, he acted much closer to your mother than a mere guard should. And jace and luke being young, didn't see it as a problem. Even looked up to him. But you didn't. You felt so humiliated, that such low born could be your father, you—the heir, you, ser Laenor's true born daughter, as you tried convincing yourself again and again.

You didn't want to be a mutt, a bastard.

Harwin Strong tried connecting with you on many levels, but you denied all of them. You didn't even want to be near him, let alone speak with him. Flaunting your power and acting very rudely whenever he wanted to make conversation. You still remember the sadness in his eyes, as you told your king's guard to take him out of your sight. A filth, you called him. All out of insecurity.

That was the last time you saw him.

And now, all you had was Jacaerys's fond memories of him, nothing more. You wonder if you had cared to hear him out even once, what would he have said?

Shaking off the terrifying thought, you open your locks on the belt on your waist, slowly getting down. The storm had prevailed, with rain pouring down your black and red polish coat. You squint your eyes, trying to see better amidst the heavy rainfall. Tessarion let out a wail of joy, she loved rain. Given her so very nickname, the blue queen. After her blue scales and orange wings. That's when you heard a growl, a heavy one. That could only come out of a large dragon.

Your eyes widened, seeing the sight of that dragon.

Vhagar.

Which could only mean he was here.

“A letter from the queen.” you say, hesitantly as still processing the fact who you were to face very soon. The men guarding the castle nodded, letting you in. It felt like a dark cloud over you, as you entered. The black walls and steel throne, with Lord Borros sitting quite comfortably. You knew he was there, swiftly standing with a smirk, you didn't even want to face him.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon” one of the guards announced, “daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

You gulp, “Lord Borros, I have brought you a message.” you make sure to add, “from the queen.” he raises his eyebrows, “Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the king. Which is it, king or queen?”

Your skin shivered as you felt Aemond's eyes constantly on you—not once did his gaze move. You remember when there was a time, a good time, in childhood, when Aemond was your closest companion. You both were around the same age, both quiet, wise, and mature. And you both lacked a dragon at the age all Targaryen children have one. You used to always defend him against the teasing of Aegon and your siblings, scolding Jace and Luke whenever they hurt Aemond's feelings. You remember how you pushed a hair out of Aemond's eyes, after the pig prank, kissing his cheek gently, promising him that he won't go without a dragon in his lifetime. How you had seen that for him.

Alas, after the driftmark incident, you didn't know who to defend, your brothers, or his taken eye. All you knew was that after you had moved to dragonstone, all talked bad of him, and with time, you started believing them.

“The house of the dragon doesn't seem to know who rules it.” Lord Borros sneered mockingly, as you clenched your fists. This was not at all how you planned it. “What's your mother's message, girl?”

You handed the envoy to one of his guards wordlessly, as Lord Borros—unable to read, called for his Mastor. Aemond Targaryen, wasn't a person you once remembered, you once loved. In a way your family would never approve. And you fear you still hold those feelings after all this time. You wonder what your mother would say, your brothers? if they knew the ways of your heart.

“Remind me? of my father's oath?” he says, sounding very offended.

At the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond smirking, as if he already won the bid. It infuriated you, as your hands curled up around your sword tightly.

“King Aegon at least came with an offer! my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” he continues, as you close your eyes in contrast to stop Aemond's winning stare on you, “now if I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will your brothers marry?”

Before you could answer, he speaks again, “—or which one of my sons will you marry?”

Your mouth gaped, as his voice sounded so excited and thrilled, as if he was already imagining having Targaryen grand children. Especially when they could be potentially heirs to the iron throne. You grimaced, a picture of his sons, same as him, fat, bearded and a wild lust, came into your mind and it disgusted you. Aemond looked surprised, straying away from his smirking face. His lips had fallen down to a glare, fist tightening.

You cleared your throat, “My brothers are not available to marry my lord, they're already betrothed to another.”

He nodded as if uninterested, looking for a different answer. Eager to know about you. His head peaked forward in question, a one you didn't want to answer; whether you'll bore his sons children or not. You were just seventeen, and even if westeros considered that to be a grown woman—you were still a young girl. And believed to be as well.

“As for me” you took a breath, “I will have to discuss it with the queen. She shall consider your offer.”

“Hmm” you heard Aemond's voice, glancing at him just for a second. This was wrong, this was so wrong. Not at all how you envisioned. He had to ruin everything, didn't he? now you had to go home with a rejection, while Jace would come with more support of armies.

Everything was a mess.

“So you come with empty hands?” Borros says, angered. You sighed, ready to mount back on your dragon and fly the rest of the way in self pity. “Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the lord of storm's end is not some dog that she can whistle up in need to set against her foes.”

Your jaw clenches, in disappointment “I shall take your answer to the queen, my lord.”

This was indeed, a failure. You failed to prove as the heir to the iron throne that you were capable. Especially because you are a girl. You needed to show it, to your mother and to everyone else, that you can take on that responsibility as well as any king. All because of him. It was his fault, and he sure looked proud. You hated this, hated his cunning smile, his swift posture, his one purple eye and oh, him. Everything you hoped you could achieve, he destroyed it for you.

He sure hated you; that was evident.

“Wait”

You hear Aemond, as you halt in your steps while turning back to the gates, “My lady strong.”

Your eyes widen, “What did you say?” he knew it, how to get in your skin. The dinner, with insults about your heritage, calling your brothers strong that resulted in a fight. It was exhausting, what did he want now? after all this time.

“You heard me.” he tilts his head, “did you really think, you could fly around the realm, trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, which makes him furrow his eyebrows. “Your brother's throne? or rather, Aegon the usurper's?”

“I would mind my tongue if I were you, my lady.”

You bit your lip, his audacity, after all he had done, to remind you of your place. As if he ranked higher than you? A beat passed by, tension thick in the air. Neither of you were looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the move. As if it was a chess board, with the winner taking all. A verbal battle. Aemond finally broke the silence.

“So you're here to usurp my brother's throne then?” he spoke with a calming chill, seeing as your eyes turned into anger, “Traitors.” he mumbled in his breath.

You control every urge to grab his collar and hit him across his face, “I am in haste. Is there something you want from me, prince Aemond?”

His head lies low and a dangerous glint comes in his eyes. You gulped, unknowing where he was about to go with this. He had changed ever since Luke had done it. Taken his eye. Somewhere, you didn't blame him. It was true that none of your brothers ever got punished for what happened, a result of your mother being the obviously favoured child. He was angry, at Luke—at you, that nothing happened. Everything was complicated; but, not unsalvagable. After you returned to king's landing, you tried everything to be nice with Aemond, to be civil, for the least. Alas, he denied all of them.

“Yes, there is something I want.” he looks up, eyes cold, “something that was stolen from me not long ago.”

A hitch escapes your lips, “Aemond—”

“You know..” he cuts you off, stepping a little forward towards your direction, “I always wished for your brother to know, what it feels like, to experience such a pain. To have your eye carved out by Valaryan steel, hmm. Unfortunately, now that he isn't here, I'll have to make him learn some other way. What it feels to have an eye cut out, or rather, a loved one's eye cut out.”

There was just the slightest bit of emotion flash in his eyes, pool of stars, in agony yet so beautiful. Your breathing becomes heavy, as you start to fear for your life. Your hands slowly pulled out your sword.

“I will not fight you.”

You intended to sound harsh, but your voice came out more of a tremble. Aemond and your relationship had gone down the drain, you knew that. Yet, was he really willing and capable of wanting to cripple you? had he started to hold such hatred for you? did he truly forget all the best memories he and you made together. He was acting like you were a stranger to him, that he did not care for your being. Even the mere thought of that sends a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Fight would be little challenge.” his voice is hoarse and cold, “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth when he pulls out his eye patch, a blue emerald stone in the place of his lost eye. He looked so very, beautiful, you thought. Majestic and soft. As even after such an attack on his face, he was born to look gorgeous, no matter what. For a moment you became oblivious to what he was demanding, staring in a trance like state. He was the epitome of Targaryen beauty, tall and long haired, pale skin with features that could start wars between great houses. Your heart fluttered and your throat became dry, unable to form any kind of answer. Aemond did not seem to notice, as he only held a sour and blank look in his eyes.

You only snapped back when he spoke again, “As a payment for mine.”

“No, I will not.” your voice is low, but clearly he heard it since something changed in his expression. He was angry. An emotion he hardly showed ever since the accident.

“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor.”

“You can't be serious ab—”

“Give me your eye!” he shouts all of a sudden and starts to walk towards you with rage, “or I will take it!”

You frantically back away, pulling out your sword on impulse. The guards coming in to shield you, as lord Borros stands up, saying something about wanting to have no such ‘bloodshed’ beneath his roof. You barely hear him over your own beating heart, fear taking over every one of your survival instincts. He orders for you to be escorted back to your dragon, as Aemond watches you exit the doomed castle. The rain has worsened, your clothes, that had been a little dried up, now went back to being wet again. You push your hair out of your eyes, raising a hand to itch your neck. Your hair was long, so it irritated your skin whenever they were soaked with rain or water.

But all you could think about was what had happened inside, his eyes, his face, all his hatred for you. Did he really want to send you harm? or was he faking? your gaze turned to the side, expecting the giant green beast yet, Vhagar was nowhere to be seen. You started to panic, if Aemond had already flown away, it could only mean two possibilities. He went back to king's landing, or he was awaiting to do something much worse. The latter scared you.

You walked towards Tessarion, her dark and orange eyes bored into your figure, wings flapping in excitement. You sigh, slowly getting on top of her and adjusting your straps.

“Sōvēs, Tessarion.”

She hears your command and swiftly takes out into the sky. She was futile and fast, if you were careful enough, you both would be able to make it to dragonstone with no harm done. Besides, rain, was her element of sheer power. You squint your eyes, rubbing water out of them as a few minutes had passed by, the storm nowhere to be stopping anytime soon. All you could hear was the flapping of her wings and the heavy rainfall that held out the dark clouds. It didn't matter anymore of Lord Borros's rejection, he couldn't be any more reliable than he already is. Besides, if you could reach your home safely, without the presence of a one eyed prince, that would be more than victory enough.

However wrong had the universe been out there to prove you.

As you were about to loosen your tight ropes, with a newfound relief—a snarl disrupts you. You looked back to see the giant mouth of the big monster in the name of a dragon, coming up towards you. Instantly you yelped, pulling the ropes sideways to avoid getting eaten. You can hear Aemond's malicious laughs, he was enjoying this. You let out a cry for help, struggling to keep hold of your now panicked dragon, as Vhagar flew around you, mouth wide open.

The rain was making it quite difficult to see, as Aemond chased you down.

Vhagar's giant claws kept trying to cut you and Tessarion, as Aemond began to mumble things in high valaryan, something you could not hear due to your panic and wanting to steer away from him and his beast. You tugged on the leash, pulling her away to the left. You knew Vhagar had a hard time with turning around, and it would buy you some time. His laugh, so cruel and emotionless, he was out to kill you. That was unquestionable. You had to get away from them, instead of processing how your childhood best friend, and the man you loved, could become the reason for your death.

A cannon appeared in your sight, and you quickly flew into the narrow path in between it. Aemond could only follow you from the above, waiting for you to come out.

“Jemēla gēlȳni enkā! Taobi!” You hear him shout, an unexpected emotion and anger in his voice. You owe a debt? No, you didn't. You did not take his eye, or tease and bully him all those years ago. In fact, you were the one who defended him. And he thinks you are the reason for his lost eye?

“For the god's sake stop this Aemond!” you shout, a whimper coming out of you. Tears running down, “please.”

Somehow, at that Aemond's demeanor softened. It looked like he was over playing with you. But your dragon wasn't done with him, instead, Tessarion disobeyed your own commands, flew out the cannon and let out a massive fire at Vhagar's face. Something that didn't do much damage. You cursed, as she shrieked in pain when you harshened the ropes to make her listen. Aemond was going through the same situation, yelling out every command in high valaryan to stop, but his dragon was angered. That's when you were remembered of your grandfather's words, the idea that we control the dragons, is an illusion.

“No Vhagar! No!” was the last thing you heard from him, before his dragon grabbed your coat with its claws, losing the balance off the seat, you screamed as you fell off. The height was above the clouds, and in nowhere will you be to survive.

Until the ocean hit your body, and you blacked out.

Rain droplets on your eyes irritated you, as you could still feel it was raining. Not as hard as before, but still. Slowly blinking, you open your eyes. You found yourself laying on top of some concrete—more over rocks and tiny stones.

A sharp pain hits you, as you realise you were having a hard time getting up.

“Ouch!” you hiss, as blood comes out of your forehead and possibly from your ribcage. With minor cuts and bruises on the tip of your fingers and lips. You were too focused on your injuries, without noticing the very familiar presence by your side. “Don't get up, or it will make whatever injuries you have received worse.”

You gasp as his voice speaks out, swiftly turning and locking your eyes with the very man who was at fault for you being here in the first place. Aemond stood a few feet away, with Vhagar a little further up. An alarm went inside you, what was he doing here? was he here to finish what he started? give you a slow and painful death? and moreover, where was your dragon?

“T—Tessarion?” you manage to whisper, the pain worsening at that. Frantically looking around. Aemond reassured, “That bundle of blue is fine, probably lurking around and searching for you.”

He tries to get closer to you, to which you quickly shift away, wincing in pain at the rocks grazing your bloodied back. “Get the fuck away from me!” you say, as you pull out your sword. Hands shakily holding it.

His eyes weakened, as if a guilt was forming in his throat. His lips parted, but nothing came out. You heard your dragon's roars, she was close somewhere. You bit your lip to suppress the pain, refusing to cry in front of him. The rain didn't leave mercy on you, as it continued to fall. You were soaked, both from the storm and possible blood by scars and fractures. If you didn't get help, you could die in a very slow way, taking around seven to nine days. Perhaps faster by starvation or dehydration—or by his very sword. You didn't know which was worse.

“Y/N..” Aemond breathes out, “I—I didn't intend to cause this.”

That was the first time in years, he spoke your name. Only your name, no titles or formality. It was raw. You didn't answer, not knowing what to make of the whole ordeal. At first he was chasing you around like a mad man, and the next minute he was apologizing for almost killing you. You tried getting back up your feet, but winced at the sheer pain that came with it.

“Let me help you or—”

“No!” you immediately shake your head, pointing your sword further towards him.

In no world will you weaken your guard, let him get close to your body only for him to deceive you and strangle you to death. Or cut your throat with that small knife of his. You didn't know why he hadn't done that already? you were blacked out for almost ten minutes, he could have easily killed you with no difficulty. What did he even want? if not to kill you then why did he do all this?

“Y/N, let me help. Falling into the ocean at such speed is the same as falling in concrete ground. If not worse.”

“You tried to kill me! why would I ever trust you?”

He falls silent at that. Unexpectedly so. You bit your lip, struggling to keep up the strong facade with all the pain masking behind it. You didn't know how much longer you would be able to keep your sword pointed at him. Your dragon is far away and no one is here to possibly protect you against Aemond and his giant beast.

“I didn't want to kill you,” he says, his voice faltering from the rain that had now soaked his entire clothes and hair, “Only scare you.”

“Well you did more than that” you bite back, a bitterness in your tone. He scoffs, “Maybe, if your young and wild dragon hadn't leashed fire on mine, this wouldn't have happened.”

A baffled scoff of your own comes out of you, in disbelief, “Oh so this is—this is my fault?”

“Precisely.”

“Fuck you!” you spat, your throat burning up at the yell. Your condition was getting worse by the minute, and Aemond noticed that. He inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself before matching up to you. You yelped as he reached over you, pulling your arms in order to get you up, but struggling as you put up a fight. You wince at the pain of getting on your feet, eventually giving up as he held on to you firmly, his hands of your waist.

You sigh, so tired like all the blood and mass from your body was being drained. You feel his eyes on you, worried as his breath was ragged. If you weren't on the brink of death, you might have realised you liked this feeling. But that moment is gone as soon as it came, you push Aemond away, roughly. This is your enemy. Not your protector.

“Y/N—”

“What do you want?!” you interrupted him, shouting amidst the heavy rainfall soaking both your breaths. “You threaten me, almost kill me, and then help me when it was you who put me in this position in the first place. I don't understand why you are here if you don't want to kill me! what other reason is there for you to do what you have done ever since I landed here?”

Aemond becomes silent, any words he could speak refused to come out. He looks at you hard, before taking his eyes off you, his jaw clenched. You were frustrated now, you wanted the answer. You needed it. He can't just ignore you after all this.

“Tell me. Why?” you inquire, again. When he doesn't answer, you furiously walk towards him, pushing his chest as he stumbles back a bit. “Why—”

“Because you didn't do anything!” he finally breaks, his voice was surprisingly inflamed with a touch of vulnerability.

You blink your eyes, taken aback, “what?”

“You...” Aemond breathes, willing himself to say those words he never wanted to say, jaw clenching, “You were my friend. My dearest one. Yet, when your brother took my eye and I was the one condemned for it, you didn't say anything. You just stood there, in pure silence. I—”

He stops himself, taking a deep breath, “I thought you would always defend me.”

You were speechless. It was true. What he said. You didn't say anything because you didn't know what happened. You weren't there. And being overwhelmed by all the shouting and bruises on your little brothers faces, you didn't know what to think. But you believed your mother. You couldn't defend yourself, he was saying the truth. You didn't have his back and that's what broke what the two of you shared. You went numb to the pain you had, or the seemingly hatred you had for him. This, this was the Aemond you remember. And you weren't about to let him go.

“I'm sorry.” you say, “I'm sorry, okay?”

But it wasn't enough. You knew it wasn't when his face fell, shaking his head and turning around to walk away from you and this. You weren't about to let that happen. “Aemond!” you called out to him, but he didn't stop. The pain was excruciating, but you needed to make this right. “Aemond!” when he doesn't listen, you take all the best strength you had left and catch up to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

“Aemond I'm sorry!” you yell, wanting him to feel how much guilt you felt, “But I'm in a lot of pain here, okay? it feels like my body is cut by a thousand bolts of lightning, I can't even feel my back and my throat is burning. But still, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I did not understand what was happening—we were both children for god's sake! but even then, if I hurt you, which evidently now that I have I mean we wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't, I'm so sorry.”

You don't know if you made it better or worse looking at the stoic expression on his face. But you had tried. The rain had soaked all his emotions, but even then you could see just the little bit of stars in his pupils you once saw as kids. You cross your arms, feeling the cold embrace you as you shudder in your injuries and pain. He gulped, unknowingly laying his head low to avoid looking in your eyes.

“I apologize, for this. For everything. I lost my temper today. It won't happen again.”

Your eyes soften at his words, as if a wall had risen between you two again. You hated it. You wanted to break it. So you did. In a few fraction of seconds, you didn't realise what you were about to do before you walked closer to him, too close. His breath hitches as your face comes in between his wet hair, his hair touching your cheeks just slightly.

“Y/N—”

He was only able to mumble out these words before your lips were on his. So barely. He inhaled a sharp breath, hands coming up but not knowing where to go. You close your eyes and just for one moment, forget the war, the families, the armies. Just you and him. Before you pull away, Aemond finally found his senses and comes up to cup your cheeks. Kissing you back softly but with an unspoken passion. He was careful not to hurt you.

Your hands find his waist, carefully tugging at the black belts that were wrapped around it. It felt like this was what you both had craved all these years. This. All the fight left out of him the moment you kissed him. Like the sun finally just glanced one look at his star. The one closest to it. You were his sun. And he was your favourite star. You only pull away when the growl of your dragon reaches your ears, Tessarion was here. Just a few rocks away. Your foreheads were touching, and Aemond places a small kiss at your head.

“Get home safe.” he whispers, his thumb tracing down your lips.

You didn't know if you would get a moment like this again. But you were happy. That you finally got to have one taste of heaven. Your heaven. Your Targaryen. Your Aemond.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛!

[fangirlmermaid]

You're it for me

Summary: Wanda is sick of being pregnant and her powers took over when she saw you sleep peacefully beside her

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warning: Pregnancy, Cursing, boobs are mentioned (oh no!!), and Pregnancy fetishism (I guess) is mentioned but not played out!

Note: I promise I won't only write pregnant fic or popstar!reader, if you guys have any ideas DM me, I think I have that open. Also another fanfic so quickly???

(Might be some grammar and punctuation errors) (Kind of long)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Like clockwork, Wanda woke up at two in the morning. She sighed in frustration as she felt the twins kicking her.

You and Wanda always talked about starting a family together. She even found a way to make the baby's blood related to you both.

Wanda said she would carry the babies. Ever since the whole fighting Thanos, Wanda wanted to lay low and live a normal life with you (her wife) on your guy’s farm.

Wanda rubbed her eight-month-pregnant belly, hopefully, it would lure Billy and Tommy back to sleep. Wanda couldn’t wait to be a mother but she wanted these nine months to be over. She was tired of always having to go to the bathroom, of something hurting, and not getting a full night's sleep.

Wanda glared at you who was passed out snoring lightly. How dare you rub it in her face that you could sleep without interruptions. You rolled onto your side, your back facing her.

If you both decide to have more kids, Wanda decided that you're carrying them.

Once the babies had calmed down, Wanda placed her hand on your stomach. With Wanda’s swollen belly, it’s been hard to have you close to her. This is how Wanda has been cuddling you since her bump got big. She hates it!!!!

Wanda sighed in frustration when she felt the twins kicking her again. Wanda tried to lean close to your ear “You’re carrying them” Wanda stated for next time. Wanda stayed there waiting for the babies to tire themselves out.

Next Day

Beep Beep Beep Beep You hit snooze on your alarm, in your opinion, the worst part about working on a farm is having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn because you have a shit ton of things to do.

You throw your legs over the bed about to get up, but you stop. You sit there frozen too scared to move. Did something… No, no, that’s crazy.

You were about to get up but that’s when you felt it again, something flutter inside you.

You pulled your quilt off and you gasped at what your eyes laid on. Your stomach was swollen, and your pajama shirt which was originally a little big on you is now bunched up under your boobs.

You rubbed your eyes hoping you were hallucinating but nope, it was still there.

Your shaky finger poked the stomach, and at first, nothing happened. Then you poked it again, and the bump was rocking side to side causing you to jump a little.

Your heart was running, no matter how hard you tried to come up with how it happened it wasn’t logical.

You felt whatever was inside of you hit your ribs hard, almost as if it punched you.

“Ow” You whispered not wanting to wake up Wanda.

You lightly slap the bump which causes it to punch you in the ribs again.

“Bitch!” You yelled glaring at your stomach

“Love, what’s wrong?” Wanda asked

In a panic, you threw the blanket over your shoulder making sure to cover your stomach. You didn’t want Wanda to stress because you love her and it could hurt the babies.

Grabbing the short bed frame to help you up, you felt like someone gorilla glued five sixteen-pound bowling balls to your stomach. “Fuck, it’s heavy” You mumbled placing your free hand under your stomach for support.

You slowly turned around “Nothing baby, go back to sl-”

Your eyes widen, Wanda isn’t pregnant anymore. Like her bump just vanished.

You felt ashamed of how long it took you to figure it out.

You let the blanket slip onto the ground, exposing Wanda to your state.

Wanda’s mouth dropped, she looked down at her flat stomach and then back at you.

Wanda slowly made her way over to you, she was trying to pretend she wasn’t freaking out.

Wanda poked your stomach nothing happened, then she poked again and the twins kicked you hard.

“Fuck” you hissed bending over in pain, Wanda apologized.

“How did this happen?” Wanda asked her eyes staying on the bump, you shrugged “I don’t know! You’re the one with the red wiggly woos!” You whispered yelled.

Realization hit Wanda, she looked down at her hands before giving you a nervous smile. Your shoulder dropped “What did you do?!” You panicked, Wanda couldn’t meet your eyes “Last night Billy and Tommy woke me up, seeing you sleeping peacefully made me mad. So I placed my hand on your stomach while I cuddled you and I said your…carrying…them” Wanda's voice grew quiet your eyes widened and your mouth dropped too stunned to speak “I totally meant for next time!” Wanda explained pointing her finger at you.

You started to hyperventilate. You’re not prepared to give birth, you barely even read the parenting books Wanda bought for you. Your body hasn’t been preparing for the two human beings you're going to be pushing out. What if something happens and you have to go into surgery or you die?!

Also, how are you going to explain to people how you are suddenly eight months pregnant? You always do the socializing part of business so Wanda doesn’t have to!

“Love, Love” Wanda called rubbing your back “You need to calm down” Wanda explained in a hushed tone. You knew she was right but how could you be calm in this moment?

“Wanda, Alan is coming over around lunch to pick up some apples for the farmers market” You stated, Wanda squeezed your arms “Let’s get you back to bed, and I’ll look at the book” Wanda assured. You nodded, Wanda grabbed your hand to ease you back into bed, and she placed a mountain of pillows to support your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wanda sat in the kitchen at the dining table flipping through the Darkhold, she didn’t even know what she was looking for.

Deep down Wanda was happy to have a break from being pregnant, she knows that you are right of course but still. There’s a part of her hoping you change your mind to stay that way.

“Ah, shit!” a voice from outside yelled, Wanda look out the window where she found you waddling towards the chicken coop with a basket in your hand. Wanda closed the book “What is she…” Wanda trailed off walking towards the back door.

Wanda walked towards you crossing her arms over her chest “Um, (Y/N)” Your wife called, you let out a soft hmmm while throwing chicken feed onto the ground “What are you doing?” Wanda wondered her voice stern, you kept throwing the chickens their food “What does it look like?” you sassed still focusing on your task. Wanda finally reached you, she pulled the empty basket out of your hands and placed it on the ground “Not resting like you should be” Wanda stated. You faced your wife sighing in frustration, “Wanda I have things to do, I can’t lay in bed” you reminded, Wanda stood behind you placing a hand on your hip and her other hand grabbing your hand “I’ll do the chores, I don’t want you on your feet until I figure out how to undo this” Wanda told guiding her wife back inside the house.

Wanda eased you back into bed “There we go, love” Wanda smiled pulling the blankets up to your chest. You groaned pushing the blanket under your bump “It’s so itchy” you whined scratching your belly, Wanda grabbed the lotion from her bedside table.

Wanda’s eyes landed on you. Seeing you carrying her children made her smile. It also turned her on, but she knew that was the last thing on your mind.

“Baby?” Your voice brought Wanda back. “Sorry, Love.” Wanda blushed, squirting the lotion onto your bump. Billy and Tommy started to move around “Do they ever stop?” You groaned throwing your head against your pillow, Wanda chuckled as she rubbed the lotion into your skin. Wanda loved that she got to take care of you for a change, she could get used to this. Maybe she could brainwash everyone into thinking that you were the one pregnant all along.

“That feels so good thank you, baby” you moaned, your breathing hitched, You were making it harder for Wanda to not go down on you. Wanda could only smile, “I got chores, do you need anything?” Wanda interlocked your hand with hers you shook your head, Wanda gave you a quick peck on the lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pain shot down your back causing you to wake up “Motherfucker” You hissed placing your hand on your back. You opened your eyes seeing that it wasn’t a dream and that you’re still very pregnant. Wanda is a fucking boss for dealing with this shit for eight months.

You stood up hoping a quick walk around the house could relieve the back pain.

After you waddle around the house, you head toward the kitchen where you see Wanda at the dining table flipping through the Darkhold.

Wanda looked exhausted, she had paint smeared on her cheek. She sighed in frustration, she kept drifting to sleep. From growing your babies to doing a shit ton of chores along with researching on how to reverse the pregnancy. You sighed guilt had a grip on your heart, you looked down at your bump placing a hand on it before looking up at Wanda. Your mind was made up.

You entered the kitchen “Hi, Love” You smiled, Wanda rubbed sleep out of her eyes “Hi, love” Wanda gave a sleepy smile. You sat in the chair next to Wanda whose attention went back to the Darkhold, both of you sat in silence. You twist your wedding ring to soothe your anxiety trying to find the nerve to tell Wanda, hopefully she would understand.

You grabbed Wanda’s hand gaining her attention “What’s wrong?” Wanda wondered her voice laced with concern, you gathered your courage “I don’t want you to reverse this anymore” You admitted pointing to the baby bump Wanda knit her eyebrows “What?” Wanda asked, you took a deep breath “You’ve been crushing it at carrying these two. Seeing you in pain hurts me and I wish I could’ve done something to help you. So let me carry them, you deserve a break” You admitted, you knew your little speech was corny but it was the truth, Wanda’s eyes glossed looking relieved “I love you! You are IT for me! We are never getting divorced” Wanda admitted squeezing your hand, you gave a light laugh “I thought that was a no-brainer” You smiled, and Wanda kissed you passionately.

Honk Honk

You pulled away “Alan’s here” You smiled brushing your nose against your wife’s, Wanda groaned before leaving to meet Alan outside.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Creep Minecraft World

I've mentioned before how they have a Minecraft world they all play on, and I wanted to actually just randomly talk about it :p

At least several times a month, they all get together to play on their Minecraft world together. Sometimes a few people might be missing or absent, but they try to have as many people playing at a time as they can. Things I've already established, BEN is the one who builds cool houses for everyone (I'm adding on that they're all set up like a villager village, so they're all connected by paths and near each other like a housing development), Jeff helps people the most with mining, and Toby and Sally are both working together to make a zoo for all of the animals they come across with nice surroundings so they can all be happy in there. Now, back to my expanding on it.

I think that they all probably split into groups on who does what, and some people will just tag in whenever they want to. BEN, Liu, Helen, and Brian are the designated builders of the world. They're really good at building and have an eye for making pretty designs, so generally, that's what they spend their time doing. Jeff, Natalie, Kate, and Tim are the designated miners in the world. They had built like a whole mining system and are constantly expanding it to collect more and more materials together. Both groups work together to help each other out, and the rest of the creeps are free to join a team if they'd like to so that they can help out more, but they usually just follow the instructions of the established team members. Toby and Sally as I said earlier are committed to building a zoo, and they name every single animal that they put in there. Sometimes others will help with building or getting animals in there (they have also been allowed to use creative mode to get animals or build something if they need to), and it's situated near the housing area so that everyone can just walk over and look at the progress when they want to. Generally, they all work really well together in their teams, but sometimes they do have disagreements.

Speaking of disagreements, one of the world rules is that keep inventory has to be on, mostly because there was a point when they kept going around killing each other and then they'd get mad because they'd lose their stuff, and fights would happen, so keep inventory has to be on so that now if they die or kill each other, nobody can be upset. (That started because Jeff and Tim would push each other into lava whenever they were in the mines and disagreed on something). They haven't even gotten very far into the Nether yet because they all keep dying or killing each other. Also, nobody is allowed to alter or destroy anything that someone else has made (even if they think it looks really bad and they want to change it to make it look better, cough cough, Helen, cough cough) so that everyone can have their own little area that they build in and they don't have to worry about the safety of the work. I think they also all have an "open chest" policy where they each have one chest with a sign above it that says open, so that if someone is missing or really needs certain supplies they can take from someone else's open chest that has extra stuff they don't really need in it. I'd like to think they also go on like planned attack expeditions, like if they find an area that has a warden they'll all team up to try to fight the warden together (they rarely succeed because everyone is just screaming and yelling and running and laughing), or they'll all fight the ender dragon together, or a wither. Also??? So many mods. BEN has added so many mods to the world and he and everyone else get so much enjoyment out of it. It can be chaotic sometimes, but the Minecraft world is one of the few things everyone can actually usually get along with about, so it's a good bonding experience for them.

[koi-p0nd]

Good morning,afternoon, and nights!

I was wondering if can you do an imagine of reader protecting Anya from jimmy before and after the crash? Which reader always giving a bitchy attitude to j#### and reader giving self defense tools to Anya just in case. (The self defense weapons are a taser,a pocket kn’fe, and a pink decorated pepper spray)

-anonymous

Omg hi hello????? I woke up around an hour and a half ago????

(Am I that good of a writer???? Lmao kidding)

Anya getting self defense lessons and weapons from reader with an attitude? To keep the Bad Stinker Man away? Yes.

Okay, since I'm still trying to get back into writing again, this might be a bit wonky and not really up to what others can make but I'm trying my best here :')

I think imma make like a list or smth, I dunno, but I hope it works :D

I also decided to change the pocket knife to a swiss army knife, thought that she could use the different things on it for more than self defense or to give some more severe injuries to Stinker.

Mouthwashing Anya x Reader. (Platonic)

"Don't be afraid to use force, girl." (Not proof read)

Before the crash:

Way long before the crash, just a few weeks or months after taking off with the ship Anya had told you about getting weird vibes from Jimmy.

It was kind of obvious as to why she would go to you and just quietly voice her suspicions to you, you literally had a tazer and can off pepper spray clipped to your uniform belt out in the open.

She was glad for that, honestly.

After she told you about this, you kept an extra eye on Jimmy whenever he were nearby you and/or Anya. Watching like a hawk.

There was constant bitchy attitude from you towards Jimmy when he and you interreacted. It always pissed him off.

It wasn't pretty arguments and fights over something small and irrelevant.... Swansea, Daisuke and Curly had to often break you two apart....

Not even a week later, you offered to teach Anya some self defense.

Shock and surprise was the only thing that Anya could express for a few moments. Understandable.

Who in the world would offer a colleague, who you barely know anything about, self defense?

Well... You did.

Not out of pity, of course not. You just wanted to teach her so she could beat Jimmy up if she needed to and no one was around.

Anyways

Anya had gladly taken the offer from you. Grateful that you just decided to spend your free time in training her and teaching her things.

Although she felt a little guilty for it.

Hush girly, don't feel bad. You deserve to knock Jimmy's teeth out<3

She was ectsatic and giddy internally when she got her own self defense tools from you; a tazer, a somewhat old swiss army knife and the pepper spray decorated in pink.

You just smiled at how giddy she looked.

After the crash:

After the crash. Hmm....

Things went to hell, basically.

Curly was a burnt, crispy nugget (sorry Curly😭)

Let's just say that Anya has used her tazer quite a lot of times on Jimmy out of spite or when he was getting up in her space.

The pepper not so much, she wants to save as much of it to really bad situations. Since the water supply is not that big on the ship.

The army knife is more used to be a every day life tool, using the various things on it for various things. Has occasionally had the knife of it pointed at Jimmy, as well as the tazer/pepper spray in her other hand.

She is so very gratefull for having you as her self defense teacher. She can sucker punch Jimmy if she feels really fed up with Jimmy.

I hope this is what you asked for :') and sorry if it's bad😭 I'm trying to get my writing skills back...

[kkayyerr]

Hii can I request a rafe c little!reader when he is talking to some girl but reader gets jealous. You don’t have to write it if you don’t want to 💕

The only one.

Summary: Rafe is talking to the Kiara and little!reader getting very jealous and hurt.

Warnings: Age regression, angst, jealousy, fluff in the end.

Author’s note: Rafe is more soft in this one because it isn’t the early seasons Rafe that I’m usually writing about.

Since the very start of your relationship, you knew that Rafe hated all the Pogues. His only exception was you; he excepted you and was still dealing with excepting your lifestyle. So of course you were more than shocked when you saw him talking to another Pogue, and you were even more surprised when you found out that it was Kiara. As you knew, they never liked each other, so why was he standing there, smiling at her? You didn’t even want to know. The only thing that you knew is that you were unhappy about this, and when you were regressed and unhappy, it meant that Rafe might ended up running to the store to buy you something that will be accepted as an apology and would make that pouty look go away from your pretty face. 

However, today you didn’t want anything. You didn’t need new plushies or some sweets; you just wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t trade you for another girl, because even thoughts of it were making you anxious. You start sucking on your thumb, trying to calm yourself down, but thoughts were only getting louder.

You left the beach and went home without letting Rafe know, ignoring his calls as he was probably going crazy thinking that something bad might’ve happened to you. And it did, but this time Rafe was the one who hurt you instead of being your protector. As you got home, you went straight to your room, covering yourself with your favorite blanket. You were overwhelmed by all the thoughts and memories that had popped up in your head.

Rafe sweared that he won’t leave you no matter what, but that’s what they all had said, right? 

Maybe you just became too much and he decided to finally break free from you and your regression; maybe you finally became a burden to him. Tears streamed down your face, and you were trying to quiet your sniffles by hiding your face in the pillow when suddenly you heard someone entering the room, loudly shutting the door. 

 

„What have I told you about always telling me where you are, hm?”

 

Rafe was angry, probably even furious with your behavior. He probably thought that you were just being stupid and irresponsible, ignoring his words as always. He ripped off the blanket from you when he saw something that he wasn’t expected to see at all. You were lying there, your face all puffy, strings of tears on your red cheeks. 

 

„Baby, what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

 

Rafe asked quickly, trying to make you look at him by softly touching your arm, but you slapped his hand right away, pointing your little finger at him. 

 

„You.”

 

You mumbled, making Rafe’s face expression turn from worried to confused. He didn’t do anything to hurt you today; he was trying to not hurt you at all. What could he've possibly done to make you this upset? His heart ached just from the thought of being the one who makes you cry like that. He actually had no ideas, and the only way to find out was talking about it with you. Gently.

 

„How exactly did I make you feel so bad, little one?”

 

His voice was not only softer but also quieter. He didn’t want to make you even more overwhelmed, loudly interrogating you with his questions. You finally stood up from where you were laying, still looking upset but more cooperative.

 

„Do you like Kiara?”

 

You asked, ignoring his question but basically answering it anyway. Rafe’s face finally brightened up, and he gave you a small, soft smile, also getting up from the bed. Rafe was relieved when you finally told him why you were so upset. The situation wasn’t so bad after all, and he had a chance to explain himself. He wanted to hold you in his arms, or at least put you on his lap and keep you close to him, until all those stupid thoughts won’t go away. He wanted you to know just how much he needed you. Though he knew that he needed to explain himself to you first. 

 

„No, baby. I don’t like her at all. She was afraid of me a little bit, and you were always telling me not to terrorize people, so I wanted to make sure that she wasn’t taking your Daddy for a bad guy anymore.”

 

After he had said that, you finally let him touch your arm. His fingers were caressing your skin in a soothing manner, while you gave him a soft smile back. All those thoughts about you being a useless burden finally disappeared when you saw his loving glare. Well, he definitely wasn’t looking at Kiara that way. 

 

„You’re the only one for me, and everything I do is for us, baby.”

 

Rafe said, pulling you in his arms and sighing with relief when cuddled up to him instead of breaking free from his embrace, even though he deserved that for not letting you know about his plans with the Pogues. He kissed your head gently, making sure that you are feeling loved and important, even though it was extremely hard for him to say that to you out loud.

 

„Don’t talk to that bitch anymore.”

 

His eyes widened at your words. He wasn’t used to you swearing, especially in the littlespace, because he was teaching you manners and not to repeat bad words after him or anyone else. He opened his mouth to call you out on it, but you quickly covered it with your hand, giving him a sly smile.

 

„Shh, Daddy. No whining.”

 

Well, it looks like his talking privilege was just taking away. 

Taglist: @tinylilacbun @rafecameronsloverrrrr @aew-regression-cove

[xskyll]

Quirkless Deku AU in which, after All Might tells Izuku he can't be a hero, Izuku takes the words to heart and decides to completely cut heroics out of his life, so he isn't reminded of his failed dream. He doesn't have any social media and doesn't read news articles about heroes. If a hero is mentioned on tv, he turns it off. He buys the same, non-sponsored groceries all the time, and he forks out the extra money to go ad-free on things like YouTube, so he never sees them in commercials. We know he's a thorough person, and he applies those skills, avoiding heroes to an impressive extent and just focusing on whatever new career path he set his eyes on (Maybe botany? But this isn't just like, basic flower shop AU. He's super smart, so my boy is probably breeding award-winning new species of orchids or some shit.)

As such, he ends up being probably the only person in Japan who has never heard of Todoroki Shouto.

They have some sort of meet-cute, and at first, Shouto can't figure out why this guy is pretending not to know who he is (is he trying to be polite, pretending Shouto is normal??), but eventually he realizes Izuku legitimately has no clue who he is, and Shouto is soooo enamoured, because Izuku is so nice and seems genuinely interested in him, and for the first time, Shouto knows it's all sincere and not someone trying to get close to him because he's famous. He becomes desperate to keep his profession a secret, leading to some comically close calls. But the longer it goes, the harder he falls, and Momo keeps insisting he has to tell Izuku the truth because he can't enter a serious relationship with this huge lie between them. But just when he's about to fess up, something happens that makes it clear to him that Izuku isn't just out of touch with popular culture, he is /actively/ avoiding heroes and dislikes hearing about them, which makes Shouto think he'll stop talking to him, and he doesn't know what to do, and now Jirou is helping Momo scold him, and he's so stressed.

Of course, the boys don't realize they know someone in common. Bakugou somehow lets the cat out of the bag, not knowing Shouto was keeping his heroics a secret. (Back to botany...maybe instead of orchids, Izu specializes in poisonous plants? And a new poison is involved in some sort of crime, and the police want him on as a consult, and Bakugou ends up involved on the heroics end of things, leading to a reunion with Izuku who he hasn't seen since middle school. Somehow Shouto comes up in conversation while they're working on the case.)

And then it all goes to shit, Idk what happens next. Izuku is more upset about being lied to than Shouto being a hero, and Shouto has to prove he wasn't just messing around. I feel like there's a scene in there where Izuku cries on his mom's lap, and Shouto gets an earful from her. They make up, of course, and start dating. Since this is one of my ideas, they probably get married in the epilogue.

[quarterlifekitty]

König and Domestic Silk Moth Hybrid!Reader

Due to popular demand (about 4 people)

Context: in this one, I’m having König stay human and having hybrids in a pet role. As an insect hybrid, I’m making her small AF (like 2-3 ft tall). I did consider making her Barbie sized tho 👀. So this is gonna have size kink bordering on micro/macro just so you know!

König it stuck on medical leave, and pretty damned miserable. He sustained a break that’s put him out of commission for a while. He’s never spent so long in his empty home, and it’s driving him insane. He’s spent basically his entire adult life married to his work, so he’s woefully unprepared to keep himself entertained.

And despite being something of a loner most times, he misses the noise. He misses the bodies and conversation. He and Horangi have a phone call every so often, and text as frequently as the work allows, but that only takes up so much time in the day.

And it’s Horangi that suggests a hybrid.

That’s something that he could throw himself into to keep occupied, as well as giving company. And unlike a pet, a hybrid would be able to be mostly self sufficient whenever he returned to work.

(Horangi doesn’t want to say if he returns. But König is not a young man, and has sustained a serious injury. There’s a chance that even if he heals, he won’t be the same as before. Combined with his rank, it won’t be huge surprise if he’s pressured or forced into retirement if his utility is limited.)

König is apprehensive— so he doesn’t want something quite as needy as a cat or dog hybrid, where he’d have to deal with heats and noise. And Horangi happens to have an old friend, retired, who raises domestic silk moth hybrids with his newfound free time. You’re picked to be offered up, freshly cut from your thick silk cocoon.

And for König, it’s love at first sight.

You’re very pretty. Fluffy white fur, big, dark, eyes. And so small. You barely come up to his hip, and raise your arms, asking to be lifted. It’s only then that he learns domesticated silk moths are flightless, their wings are pretty but unable to fly. It makes him feel a little bit of kinship with you. Restricted movement, denied purpose.

And basically his life revolves around you from that point. König doesn’t have many involved or expensive hobbies, so he has a lot of time and resources to devote to your care. You’re something of a niche pet, so it’s a little difficult to find things made for you. He resorts to commissions. Don’t fucking look at his Etsy purchase history.

You live your life perched on his shoulders or in his arms (you’re much too small to keep up with him). He’s a little afraid of letting you in his bed at night, he doesn’t want to roll over and crush you by accident, but you keep crawling under his covers anyways. You can’t help having cocooning behavior.

He’s constantly sitting you on ledges. On the sink while he shaves, on the counter when he cooks, on his desk when he works. You’ve always gotta be within arms reach for petting purposes.

And the petting, the kissing… he’s so addicted to the contact. He’s been alone for so long, and you’re so soft.

And that just leads to him getting more and more curious about your body. You don’t mind— you love him! And he loves his little Seidenmotte.

He’s beyond delicate with you. You’re so small— he has to work you up quite a bit before he can even fit a finger into your cute little pussy.

God it makes him hard how he can pin you down by the stomach with just one hand. And you make these little pips and squeaks when he fingers you— it’s just too cute for words. He totally shares some pictures with Horangi as thanks. (Which might lead to a couple of other colorful character asking to see pictures of you).

Usually he fucks your soft, fuzzy thighs to get off. He’s so warm and heavy against your clit, his cockhead practically reaching your chest. He paints your tits with white, pearly ribbons that glisten against the fuzz of your chest.

If you’re on top, he likes watching your useless wings beat while you slide your wet little cunt over him, the ridge of his head making you shiver when it bumps against your clit. You usually end up making yourself cum once or twice, and when you’re too tired and sensitive to move yourself he’ll grab your waist and grind you against him, using you like a toy to get himself off.

You don’t spread your wings often, but when you do, it leaves a little bit of moth dust behind from the tiny scales you shed. König thinks it’s so cute to see it against his bedsheets— it’s like glittery fresh snow, proof of how excited he made you.

[chococara25]

Thanksgiving

AU where Buck woke up, thinking about Tommy and decided to cook for Thanksgiving, baking crusty pecan pies & pumpkin pies, delicious green bean casseroles and sweet potato gratins, cheesy cauliflower cheese with turkey bacon bits, creamy mashed potatoes and the classic stuffings.

After done with baking and cooking, he realized he had no one to give it to (Everyone would just give him weird looks if he brings everything to potluck Thanksgiving dinner, plus they had forbid him from cooking) and wondering if he should donate to the homeless shelters cos at least someone can sleep warm with a full stomach when Lucy Donato texted him out of nowhere complaining how everyone is swamped in calls all day long and how hungry they are including Tommy, who came in to cover someone's shift and EPIPHANY!! He can just give them to the 217 AND check on Tommy at the same time.

He starts to pack everything before separating some food into different containers and stick a sticky note on each of them. He then unload the bread loaves and cookies he had been making for the past week into a basket cos waste not, want not right?

Tommy coming back from a weird call involving some idiots trying to make turkey barbacoa in their backyard when he saw everyone gathering around the dining table, stuffing their face, moaning about the delicious food and praising the cook.

He was confused till he turned around to see Evan of all people staring at him, unruly curls and dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey. Lucy said you guys haven't eaten all day." Evan looked awkwardly at him.

(At the corner of his eyes, he can see Lucy slunking off guiltily, carrying a whole pie and weird a plate of cupcakes with her)

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but looked away, his lips twisted unhappily. He pushed a bag full of containers and a basket full of bread and cookies at them before running away.

Tommy hid in one of the closets, checking the bag and basket, its contents each marked by a sticky note.

The Banana Loaf - "Everytime I think of calling you, I baked instead. Now my fridge is full but I'm still thinking about you."

The Snickerdoodle cookies - "Jee asked where cool uncle Tommy was. She misses her tea party partner."

Vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake - "I can't stop thinking how you would enjoy all the cakes and pastries I made for the past few months."

green bean casserole - "I still have your clothes and I kept wearing them to sleep cos its the closest thing I have to you because I have a hard time falling asleep without you holding me in your arms"

Carrot cake loaf - "I saw a helicopter today at work and I wonder if it was you flying it. We never did have that flying lesson."

cauliflower cheese - I'm sorry I never told you I love you when I really do. I love you and I missed every single minute the moment you walk out of my life.

pecan pie - I'm sorry I said the wrong things when I asked you to move in with me. I'm sorry I too much in the end for you and drove you away."

pumpkin pie - I'm sorry you felt pressured but I didn't lie, I really admire you and your confidence made me feel safe, being with you was like waking up for the first time from the lightning coma, I could breath again and you were the one who set me free.

sweet potato gratin - "You said you were my first but not my last. Tommy, you might be my first boyfriend but you definitely my last."

stuffings - "You are my beginning and my forever happy ending. I have no interest in looking for a different happy ending if you're not in it."

By the time he reached the last container, his eyesight were blurry with unshed tears.

Brownies - "Can we try one more time? I'm not ready to give on us."

Tommy was startled when the door to the closet swung open, Captain Pruitt looming over him with a plate of pecan pie in her hands. "I saw firefighter Buckley earlier when he dropped off the food. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and why both of you decided to break up, but Kinard, that man looks as if he still in love with you."

She panicked as Tommy burst into loud tears, holding the container of brownies to his chest.

Evan was cleaning up his kitchen, he was too tired and too emotionally wrung out to stay for the Thanksgiving dinner other than dropping off the last two pies for everyone to enjoy.

He frowned when he hear the doorbell, wondering if Maddie is going to stage another intervention on him when he opened the door, before staring in surprise.

Tommy was standing in front of him, still wearing his flight suit, holding the container with brownies and the sticky notes in his arms.

"Can we talk?" He asked with hopeful eyes.

Evan pulled him into the loft, closing the door behind them.

[nyrasproblm]

Sharp thoughts

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Your friendship with Mel slowly begins to crumble.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, suggestion of sexual acts.

Word Count: 1K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Mel was easily the best person you had ever met in your life. She was a spectacle in every way. Having her as your friend was comforting and opened many doors for you as an scientist and researcher.

Life seemed good for you, using a high-tech laboratory, with access to everything a scientist could want and thanks to Mel, contacts with several investors who might be interested in your work.

Unfortunately, Mel Medarda was too much for you.

You didn't notice when your heart started to swell when you thought about her, before you realized it, you could no longer think about her without letting out a sigh. Everything about her was... too much.

The delicate face, the graceful way she moves, the constant tinkling that is present due to her gold jewelry, the voice that seems to embrace you when she speaks to you.

You began to find yourself looking forward to her visits to your lab, or to going to see her in her luxurious quarters. This was why you worked so hard, because you loved your research, and so you had something interesting to show her. A reason to see her.

With that in mind, you stayed late in the lab, finishing a report on your latest research. You were going to show it to Mel and as a councilor, she was supposed to read it and debate whether or not to take your study to the next Council meeting.

Scanning quickly to make sure everything was okay, you stood up with a satisfied sigh. Mel's quarters weren't that far away.

You left the Academy building and walked quickly until you reached the large building where Mel's apartment was. Elora wouldn't be there at this time, and Mel had once said that you were welcome to visit her at any time. You entered the elevator and soon arrived in the lobby of the luxurious apartment. Feeling strange about the silence, you thought about calling her, but stopped when you thought you heard something. A sigh.

A moan.

You turned your head, towards where you knew Mel's suite was. You could have heard wrong, you were almost sure of that when you heard it again.

It was her voice. You were sure of it. Then she moaned again. A name this time. Jayce.

Jayce. Jayce Talis.

Your heart sank and your breath caught for a moment, until you realized you were invading her privacy. You turned and left, trying to do as little noise as possible.

You didn't see Mel for the next few days, not because you were trying to avoid her, but because you were busy working on something for Heimerdinger, and she was also working a lot, apparently.

That's why you were slightly startled when the door to your lab opened and the click of her heels was heard, followed by her melodious voice.

"Working so hard that you didn't have time to come see me?" she asked with a slight laugh in her voice. It irritated you.

"What do you mean?" you tried to focus on the project on your desk.

"I heard about the research you did, and that you gave it to Heimerdinger. Why didn't you bring it to me, like always?" she walked over to you and leaned against the desk.

"He was the first counselor I met when I finished, then." you lied, feeling the bitter taste in your mouth.

"Oh, so that's how it is." she let out a playful chuckle. "I thought we had an alliance."

Her presence felt too close, but you swallowed hard and lifted your face, meeting hers.

"Sorry, I just don't have much time to look for you." you sounded more irritated than you wanted.

Her relaxed expression faltered and she straightened her posture. "Hey, I'm just kidding." she brought one of her manicured hands to your forearm.

"Sorry." you shook your head and looked back at the notes on your desk. "I'm just... really annoyed with work."

"We all are. When you have some free time, why don't you come over to my place? I painted something new, I think you'll like it." she offered softly.

You nearly melted at her offer, the earlier irritation almost forgotten, “Sure, I’d love to.”

So that night you took the path you knew so well. The surprise this time wasn't as unpleasant as the last. Jayce was there again, lying down, his head in Mel's lap. She was comforting him about something. An intimate and tender moment. You turned around and left again.

Well, this time you were avoiding her. Leaving the lab at times when you knew she would visit you, avoiding the council building and staying away from her apartment. Elora even came to you, notifying you that Councilor Medarda wanted to see you, but you politely said that you were very busy.

Your irritation worsened when she appointed him as an advisor. It was at that moment that you knew you would never reach her level, no matter what you did.

Your favorite place to be away from the lab was the fountain in the park, with the purple leaves blowing in the wind. That's where you found yourself at the moment, absentmindedly playing with a pen in your hand, waiting for the time to pass.

"You told Elora you had too much work to take the time to see me." the velvety voice spoke from behind you, slightly irritated. "You don't seem very busy right now."

You turned your face to see her standing there, close to the bench where you were sitting.

"Counselor Medarda." you greeted politely. "Forgive me for the misunderstanding-"

"What joke is this?" she said more irritated than before, her serene face distorting into an angry expression. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have to work, Councilor, I'm afraid I'm not the richest woman in Piltover." you hinted. "I can't afford to lose my sponsorships."

"I work too, and at work I don't have many friends. That's why I value the few friendships I have." she walked up to him. "Like yours."

"Oh, you don't have any friends?" you scoffed. "And bed partners?"

"What?" she took a step back, her expression faltering.

"That's exactly what I witnessed when I went to you to deliver my research, counselor." you replied irritably. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Mel was silent, standing there as you walked back to your lab.

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 5 (Buddie x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

Chapter Summary: There's a sudden divide between you and Buck.

A/N: Me? Desperate for validation? It's more likely than you think Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: none

You make your way through more of the rubble, taking frequent breaks in an attempt to conserve your energy. It’s probably been less than an hour, but it feels like you’ve been trapped for days. You used most of your effort to free Russ, which proved futile, so now you’re simply exhausted.

At some point, you see a glimpse of light between two pieces of crumbled concrete. Using the blunt side of your axe, you begin chipping away at the space. More light begins to break through. The sight causes you to catch your second wind, and you begin swinging harder. Eventually, you make a hole big enough for you to crawl through.

You climb over some of the bigger pieces of the fallen structure and slip between others. You sneak between a few vehicles. You keep walking, though you aren’t sure what you’re looking for. Something in you gut is pulling you in this direction, and you have nothing else to go off of, so you’re going with it.

You hear a cough.

Your head snaps in the direction of the sound. You start moving so quickly that you stumble a little and have to slow yourself down so you don’t break an ankle. You shine your flashlight to the side. It lands on a little girl. She squints her eyes and lifts a hand to block out the brightness.

“Kat?” You ask.

She nods.

You laugh. You laugh with joy. You laugh with relief. You laugh until a few tears spring into your eyes. You cut yourself off—no way are you breaking down in front her. You’ve both come this far, and you’re going to see each other to the end. If you’re saving anyone today, it’s her.

You reach into the inner pocket of your jacket, eternally grateful that you took on the added weight. “You looking for this?”

It’s her shoe.

Kat smiles and nods again.

Kat’s tired, and so are you, but you carry her on your back anyway. You swear that, in the distance, you hear a car alarm, so that’s the direction you head in.

“What if we can’t get out?” Kat asks quietly.

“What? Hey, come on, don’t start talking like that now,” you gently scold. “We’ve already made it through the hard part!”

“I guess…” She says, unsure.

You hear the shifting of rubble, but only a little. You think you might hear voices, too. You take off in that direction.

Concrete shifts, and you see more light—a lot of light. Like, your headlamp times ten. You scramble towards it, ducking a little so as to not hurt Kat.

As the dust settles, you can make out at least ten firefighters standing around the scene. You can’t help but smile.

“Hello fellas,” You say, taking a few more steps forward.

A firefighter from a different crew helps Kat off of you. Your attention immediately focuses on two particular firefighters in front of you, both of which have ‘118’ on their caps.

“Welcome back,” Buck greets with a grin.

You laugh and stumble forward right into his arms. Once again, you find yourself holding back tears. You feel someone pat your back and leave his hand there, and you don’t have to look to know it’s Eddie.

You make it back to the triage area, Kat walking in front of you. The moment she sees her parents, she takes off running. On instinct, you jog behind her, but when you see her collapse into her parents’ arms, you stop and simply watch.

They look over at you and nod. You smile and nod back.

Hen insists on looking you over, testing everything from your range of motion to your vision. Even you surprise yourself a little when you pass with flying colors. Hen steals a quick hug before she gets back to work. You just sit there, dumbfounded. You’re exhausted, but you’re okay. You’re alive.

“Hey you,” Buck says, taking a seat next to you.

Somehow, that’s all it takes for the floodgates to break open.

“Woah, hey, come here,” Buck wraps an arm around your shoulders.

You wrap an arm around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. You breathe out a few sobs but slowly quiet yourself. You can feel Buck’s lips pressed to the top of your head. You sit up straight, wiping your eyes. Buck keeps his arm around you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, shaking your head a little. “Just… rough day.”

“Russ?” Buck asks quietly.

You smile sadly and nod, a few more tears escaping in the process. “You know he wasn’t even scheduled to work? He just heard about everything and wanted to help. And now he’s dead. Because I couldn’t save him.”

“But you were there for him,” Buck points out, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Even if you couldn’t save him, you were there for him. He didn’t die alone. You did that.”

“Yeah, I guess. It just doesn’t feel like enough, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

You clear your throat a little. “When I was alone and thought you guys might not find me, I made recordings. I wanted the people I love to hear from me one last time. Can you guess how many I made?”

Buck just watches you. His expression is a mix of intrigue and sympathy.

“Five,” you answer, even though he doesn’t ask. “I made five recordings, one for each of you. That’s it.”

“What about your parents? Siblings?”

“My mom died when she gave birth to me,” you answer. “My dad fell into a bottle. I haven’t spoken to him since I moved away from home seven years ago. People tell me he changed after she died, but… that’s the only way I know him. It makes me feel like I got cheated out of both my parents instead of just one.”

The two of you sit in silence. It’s broken when you laugh.

“I don’t know why the hell I’m telling you all of this,” you chuckle as more tears form. “I guess I just need someone to know that… this job is quite literally my entire life. It’s my passion, my work, my home, and my family. Most of the time, I feel lucky. On days like today, though, it just… scares the hell out of me. Because I’m either gonna die doing what I love, or doing what I love will kill me. I don’t know which one’s worse.”

“I get that feeling,” Buck agrees softly. “I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather do it with, either.”

Once you all returned to the station, you hopped in the shower. When you got out, Buck was waiting for you in the locker room. He insisted on driving you home, making sure you were okay. When he told you, you rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled. The last thing you want to do is navigate LA traffic, so you accept his offer.

When you both started to leave, you noticed Eddie was making phone calls and texts. You learned that he was trying to find a ride to Christopher’s school; he hasn’t had the chance to buy a vehicle yet.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eddie asks again as you all get to the parking lot.

“Just get in the damn car, Eddie,” you say.

The ride is a little tense. Eddie touched base with some of the school staff, so he knows Christopher is okay, but it isn’t the same as seeing it for himself. He taps his phone against the car windowsill. You insisted on sitting in the back, and for good reason: you can already feel yourself dozing off.

Buck pulls over, and you look up to see you’ve arrived at the school. Almost before the car is in ‘park’, Eddie flings open the door and runs up the stairs. Christopher is standing in the front hall, a staff member off to the side. Eddie picks him up in a hug, spinning him around.

“They’re really cute,” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Buck is too busy watching them to even register what you said.

Eddie thanks the staff member before opening the door for Chris. The two make their way back to the car, Christopher a little bit in front of Eddie. For a kid with crutches, he moves quickly; the poor kid is probably ready to go home.

Eddie opens the side door for his son, setting the crutches on the floor. With his father’s help, Christopher joins you in the backseat.

“Chris, these are my friends,” Eddie says, pointing at you and Buck as he introduces you both.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chris,” you smile.

“My dad talks about you. A lot,” Christopher says.

You giggle in surprise. “Does he, now?”

Even in the dark, you can see Eddie’s face get red. “‘You’ as in the 118,” he clarifies.

Buck shakes his head and laughs softly as he pulls away from the curb.

This might be the dumbest call you’ve ever been to, and that’s saying something.

A bunch of women decided to get drunk at 11:30 in the morning, and as a fun drunk activity, one of them stuck her head in a tailpipe. The only problem is she couldn’t get it out, so now it’s the LAFD’s problem. Medically, she’s clear, so you and Hen stand back and let the boys do their thing. Unfortunately, the drunk girl has drunk friends and said drunk friends are relentlessly hitting on Eddie and Buck.

“What are you so tense for?” Hen asks.

“I’m not.”

You both know it’s a lie. Until she said it, though, you didn’t realize that your jaw was clenched and your brow furrowed. You roll your shoulders and turn your neck a few times, hoping it relaxes your muscles.

The women are bothering you. And it’s really stupid and childish, especially considering that neither Buck nor Eddie is your boyfriend. They’re just your coworkers, so you have literally no right to get upset that women besides yourself find them attractive.

“I uh, I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” Eddie politely rejects one of them. “I have a son.”

“I’m gonna puke!” The woman says from inside the tailpipe.

“You better not!” One of her friends shouts. “These fire guys are totally hot.”

You can feel your jaw start to tense again.

After getting the woman free from the tailpipe, you all begin to make your way back to the engine. Buck and Eddie are a few steps in front of you. They’re trying to be discrete, but you make out every word.

“Hey, so is your son really the reason you don’t date?” Buck asks.

“That, and.. They weren’t my type,” Eddie shrugs.

“I’m talking in general,” Buck continues.

“It’s complicated when you have a kid.”

“Come on, that’s a weak excuse.”

The conversation is cut short when Eddie gets a phone call. He takes a few steps away while you and Buck linger behind. You don’t have to hear anything to see Eddie’s body language change. Buck sends you a knowing glance.

It’s about Christopher.

It’s always weird going past the ER of a hospital. It feels like you’re in forbidden territory, like you’ve stepped outside your bounds. The nice thing about having few family members is you barely have to cross the picket line.

You, Buck, and Eddie get off the elevator. Eddie is a few steps ahead and quickly sees his aunt in a nearby waiting area. They chat a little, and you can see that Christopher is standing near a few nurses, completely eating up the attention. It makes you smile.

Eddie’s aunt explains that it’s his grandmother who’s in the hospital—broken hip. When she was watching Christopher and called him inside, she slipped on a porch step. Christopher had to call 911.

“Who’s this with you?” His aunt asks, turning her attention to you and Buck.

“We work together,” Eddie explains after saying your names.

“Mmm, I thought you just dressed alike.”

“This is my Aunt Josefina—Pepa,” Eddie introduces.

“Hi,” you both say politely.

Pepa begins to lecture Eddie about leaving Christopher with his grandmother. You can tell Eddie feels bad, but you can also tell he has no other options. He dismisses himself from the conversation by meeting up with Christopher.

“Must be rough,” Buck remarks.

“Raising any child alone is rough,” Pepa agrees.

“Eddie’s a saint,” You praise.

Pepa smiles. It’s bittersweet. “I pray for him anyway.”

Christopher ends up spending some time at the station, and it’s one of the best shifts you’ve had in a long time. Eddie’s aunt was busy working when his shift started, and with his grandmother still in the hospital, he truly had nowhere else to take him. It was either bringing his son to work or calling in from work to watch his son. Eddie chose the former.

You’re able to take him on a simple MVC call with no suspected injuries. As you all work to free the drivers and passengers, Bobby explains everything to Christopher. He’s standing on the ground while Christopher stands on part of the firetruck, holding one of the rails for stability. Bobby has an arm around him for the same reason.

When you get back to the station, you make him a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch. He approves. Then, Chim swoops in and teaches him how to play pinball. At some point, all of you are standing around the firepole, helping Christopher slide down it.

Pepa shows up, and the fun is over. Before Eddie walks them out, he pulls Cap into a hug. You and Buck look at each other and smile.

“This was a really nice idea, Buck.”

“Eh, I figured we could all use a little stress relief,” Buck shrugs.

“Well, clearly Eddie appreciates it. I guess it really does take a village.”

Buck nods in response and begins to walk away.

“I’m thinking of going to nursing school,” you blurt out.

He turns back to face you. “What?”

You clear your throat. This wasn’t how you planned on telling him, just springing it on him in a random conversation. You knew that if you didn’t say something soon, he would hear it from someone else first. You definitely didn’t want that.

“You remember that conversation we had at breakfast a few weeks ago? You know, the one about what we’d be doing if we didn’t work at the 118?”

“You wanna be a nurse?” Buck frowns. “I mean, nurses are great; Maddie’s a nurse. Or, well, she was. You just… don’t seem the type.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve kind of always been interested in flight nursing. You know, like, going up in a helicopter, responding to scene calls, that sort of thing,” you explain as you wring your hands.

“So that means you wouldn’t work here anymore.”

“That’s… a long ways down the line. Like, at least 18 months, probably closer to 2 years. Bobby said I could always stay on casually, pick up shifts whenever I want.”

“You already talked to Bobby,” Buck rubs his neck. “You must be pretty serious about this, then.”

“I guess,” you shrug. You’re trying to sound casual, but the thumping of your heart in your chest doesn’t cease.

Buck smiles. The expression doesn’t meet his eyes. “I hope everything works out the way you want it to.”

This time, he walks away for good, leaving you with a bitter taste on your tongue.

The 118 is called to a helicopter crash site. The pilot tried to make an emergency landing in a park football field but landed in the bleachers instead. After Buck pulls one of the victims from the scene, you do an assessment and quickly realize that, by some miracle, she’s completely fine.

Buck makes his way over to the two of you. “Hey, do me a favor and say ‘And on the 405, speeds are under five miles an hour, making your morning commute a rough one.’"

You look over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I-I know that voice. It's, uh, it's Taylor Kelly reporting, right? Skywitness News Eight,” Buck says, pointing back to the helicopter.

“That’s me,” Taylor says with a soft chuckle.

“Wow. Um, it's weird to hear that voice come out of a face.”

Taylor laughs again. “Thank you?”

They’re flirting. You clench your teeth together so hard you think your jaw might pop. You start randomly tossing supplies back into your bag, zip it up, and hop back into the rig before you can hear the end of the conversation.

The next time you see Taylor, she’s at the station. She doesn’t come alone, either—a man holding a television camera is a few steps behind her.

The first one to approach her is Buck, of course. Then Eddie, Chim, Hen, and finally, Bobby. You watch everything happen from the loft; there’s no way you’ll willingly engage in whatever conversation they’re having.

Bobby makes his way up the stairs.

“What’s all that about?” You ask as he walks by.

“Ms. Kelly wants to do a story on the 118,” Bobby says.

You frown. “Is she even allowed to film in here?”

“The chief’s office is on hold. Something tells me that we’ll be seeing quite a bit of her and her cameraman the next few days.”

Bobby’s already gone, but you still roll your eyes.

Taylor manages to track down everyone and get an interview: everyone except you and Captain Nash. She follows along on a few calls, on which you can mostly ignore her. It's much harder to ignore her when she corners you in the loft.

You’re eating breakfast alone at the kitchen island when Taylor bombards you, her cameraman beside her like always. She gives you a massive grin, and something about how it looks makes you nauseous.

“Can we have a few minutes with you?” She asks, still smiling.

“No,” you respond simply.

“...No?”

“No,” you repeat, taking a sip of your coffee. It’s cold.

“Look, I know this is probably a little awkward and uncomfortable-”

“It’s not,” you interrupt as you stand. “I just don’t want to talk to you.”

You head towards the coffee pot to warm your cup. You refill it and take a sip as you lean against the counter. Taylor just stares at you.

“I want you to know I only have one goal here: to tell a story. Your story,” Taylor says, forcing the smile back on her face.

“Oh, really?” You ask, setting your coffee on the counter behind you. You push off of the counter so you can approach Taylor. “And uh, how much money do you think you can make telling my story?”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s what this about, right?” you challenge. “You have a chance to change the trajectory of your career. You can go from the girl who talks about traffic to the woman who sheds a light on the unsung heroes. You’d be stupid not to jump on that opportunity.”

Taylor looks at you. “I suppose.”

“And I would be stupid if I actually believed you have good intentions,” you continue, “because you don’t give a damn about us. You don’t care about the 118 or what we do everyday—you care about yourself. So no, I don’t have a minute and I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You missed the show.”

You open your locker with a huff. You shrug as you pick up your shoes. “Bummer.”

“You were barely in it,” Buck continues. “Something tells me that wasn’t exactly an accident.”

You take a seat on the bench so you can change your shoes. “What makes you say that?”

The only sound in the room is you kicking off your boots and slipping into your converse. You begin tying the laces, then pause.

You look over your shoulder at Buck. “You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Buck looks everywhere but your face.

“You know what I said to her,” you say. It isn’t even a question: you can tell by how he’s acting.

“I just don’t understand why you were so rude to her.”

“Oh my god, seriously, Buck?!” you say, standing up to face him. “Her?!”

He crosses his arms. “What does that mean?”

You scoff and shake your head. “It means you haven’t changed at all.”

“What?”

You pick up your boots and toss them in your locker, which you slam shut. “You heard me.”

“That’s not fair,” he argues, moving his hands to his pockets.

“It’s not?” You ask, cocking your head. “I’m pretty sure a few months ago, you were sleeping with whatever woman fell for the whole ‘hero’ act. So how exactly have you changed?”

“Why are you so pissed at me?” Buck asks defensively. “I mean, it’s not like you care enough to stick around.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. “How dare you throw that in my face.”

“Am I wrong?”

“You’re wrong,” you confirm, stepping towards him. “Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but I haven’t even applied to anything.”

“If it’s not my business, then why’d you make it my business?” Buck provokes. “Why’d you even tell me?”

“Because I thought you were my friend!” you shout. “I thought you would be happy for me!”

“Be happy that you want to leave?”

“Be happy that I want more for myself!”

“Well, I’m not happy,” Buck says, crossing his arms again. “You say that we’re your family, and then a few weeks later, you’re talking about other jobs. I mean, was that just a bunch of bullshit?”

You scoff again, and this time, angry tears fill your eyes. “Fuck you, Evan.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he says, turning to the door.

There are a million things you want to say. But then, you remember: you’ve already said them.

You reach into your pocket and come back with your phone. As Buck walks away, you hit the ‘play’ button on a recording you never wanted to listen to.

'Pretty Boy,' your voice in the recording crackles.

Buck stops and turns around.

'Evan Buckley… where do I even start with you? I’m not gonna lie: I really didn’t like you when we first met. And that’s funny, because now, you’re probably one of the most important people in my life. You definitely proved me wrong, man: you were good. You are good. And you have to keep being good, okay? I might not be there to see it anymore, but you should still do it. Do it for the both of us, will ya?'

You hit the ‘pause’ button and stuff your phone back into your pocket.

“You can be pissed at me all you want, but don’t you ever say that I don’t care about this job,” you whisper as you walk towards him. You poke a finger into his chest. “Don’t ever say that I don’t care about you.”

“I-”

Your shoulder slams into his as you walk out.

[heylittleriotact]

⚰ＷＩＰ ＷＨＥＮＥＶＥＲ⚰

I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx and love seeing their work pop up on my dash - thank you <3

The Soup du Jour is... smut! Plotless, pointless, porntacular, horny Emmrook smut.

We've got praise kinks, we've got flashing, we've got grinding, we've got trying-to-distract-this-poor-man-from-his-work, we've got Rook biting off more than she can chew when Emmrich calls her bluff. It is in this piece that I am (ultimately) going to make good on my threat of Emmrich reciting erotic poetry intimately into Rook's ear while he makes deeply passionate love to her, because that idea has lived rent-free in my head for days now and I need to manifest it. But first I need Rook to be a brat, and for Emmrich to... deal with that.

I was having doubts about this one because I am forever afraid of writing OOC, but honestly I'm just trying to chuck it in the fuck it bucket and have fun.

Tagging: @preciouslittlebhaalbae (you have TIME now MWAHAHAHA), @allofthebarks (don't hold out on me), @emmg (I know you're cooking 👀)

Under the cut because it is ✨EXPLICIT✨

𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃:

A funeral event where the prepared body of the deceased is reposed in the casket (open or closed) so that mourners may pay their respects, say their goodbyes, and grieve communally prior to the formal funeral service.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she pulled on the flimsy little camisole. She had very specific plans in mind when she slipped into the thin leggings that she knew were just a little too tight. There was a distinct reason she had chosen to completely forgo underthings. 

She tied her thick hair into a low bun at the base of her skull so her neck was clearly visible… as was the somewhat faded love bite from their previous encounter - the one that made Lace turn beetroot when she laid eyes on it at breakfast. The one that prompted Taash to reach over the table with a congratulatory high five. Emmrich had coughed awkwardly and subtly adjusted his own collar, clearly hoping the marks Amina had left on his neck in return were concealed.

She padded barefoot down the hallway to the laboratory, stomach fluttering and turning on itself in a not unpleasant way with the sheer anticipation of being in his proximity again. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him - his immense gravity could not be ignored; her need to be near him was insistent. She put little stock in the novelty of fate before Emmrich, but there was no doubt in her mind that there must have been some sort of cosmic ruling in which they were unwittingly sentenced by the stars to find one another. Her belly smouldered at the thought of such a thing… of such belonging.

She knocked gently on the door. “It’s me - may I come in?” 

She didn’t have to wait for an answer, nor did she have to turn the knob herself: she heard a chair scuff over the flagstone, the muffled jingle of gold - a sound that set her heart racing more often than not these days - and the door was flung open. Emmrich stood in the threshold, beaming affectionately down at her. 

“Of course, darling.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door once she was inside. She might have been embarrassed that the sound of the lock clicking behind her made her breath catch solely due to its implication, but she was having a hard time feeling much of anything but barely restrained lust for the man in front of her. 

He drew her in close with an arm around her waist, still holding her hand between them, massaging her palm with his thumb as he bowed his head to kiss her sweetly. Her knees went weak when his lips met hers and his familiar scent filled her nose, rendering her brain incapable of anything other than inwardly chanting the same base sentiment over and over for as long as the kiss lasted: Home! Home! Home! Home! You’re home!

He straightened and looked at her, smiling as though he hadn’t heard the hungry little moan that had slipped from her, nor perceived the way she’d pressed as much of her body against him as she could during their embrace. “How are you today?” He asked, genuinely interested - as always. He knew. Surely he knew that she was positively bursting with need for him.

“Fine,” she breathed, returning the smile, watching as he started back towards the desk that was covered with books, inkpots, and parchment. “I’m well, thank you. Just thought I’d come say hello, see what you’re up to.”  

He pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the desk for her to sit on. She opted to remain standing instead, her eyes flitted over the pages of drying ink spread over the desk. 

“More letters home?” She waited until he was settled in his chair again, the quill back in his hand, and she bent at the waist to take a closer look at a recent anatomical drawing he’d completed. She could feel the cozy heat of the laboratory caress the exposed peaks of her breasts as the insubstantial shirt draped downward, offering a generous eyeful to anyone who might be sitting directly across from her. 

Her eyes flicked up from the drawing when Emmrich didn’t answer right away, a clever smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she caught him red-handed; his eyes locked on the dainty swell of her breasts. 

He came to his senses when he felt her eyes on him and he comprehended the coquettish smirk on her face. “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Yes. Maintaining alliships and channels of communication is vital as we draw closer to our confrontation with the gods.” He swallowed and smiled again as Amina straightened and rounded the desk, settling against the wood on his side now.

“A fine plan,” she concurred, leaning back on her hands, her very visible nipples more or less eye level for the handsome academic to admire. “I hope I’m not distracting you: it’s so rare that I get a few hours to just relax these days.” She made a bit of a show of tilting her chin up and slowly rolling her head from side to side, stretching out the muscles of her neck and making sure Emmrich could see the soft plum-tinted bloom of colour he’d imparted on her skin as he sent her over the edge with his name on her lips, buried to the hilt between her legs as she clenched hard around him, her fingers curled tightly in his soft, thick hair. ‘You are incredible, darling,’ he had sighed against her tingling skin afterwards when they were little more than a tangled, panting heap of limbs. It had taken a good hour after that before she could walk again…

Amina squirmed against the desk a little at the thought, aware of the burgeoning wetness that was accumulating at the juncture of her thighs. 

Somehow Emmrich managed to maintain the discipline required to look back at the letter he was working on, his lips curling quaintly. “Not at all, my dear - quite the contrary in fact: I’m so glad that you’re finally taking some time to look after yourself.” He dipped the quill, tapped it once, twice, and then brought it to the paper.

She observed him in silence until he seemingly made peace with the fact that she was not going to sit on the chair he’d brought over for her, and instead pushed his own back slightly, pulling her down onto his lap where she perched gleefully, having gotten what she wanted. 

“I must concede that you are somewhat distracting, so I will need your assistance in proofreading these before they’re sent out - I do have an academic reputation to maintain, regardless of the beautiful woman on my knee.” 

“Is that so?” Amina purred, nuzzling into his neck, her lips barely ghosting over his skin that smelled organic and clean - crisp soap and freshly cut sage… a lingering hint of pipe tobacco and expensive brandy. 

Oh yes, she was going to be one hell of a distraction…

“She sounds like a real piece of work, this woman. It’s a marvel that you get anything done at all with her around.” She tilted her hips ever so slightly. Not enough for it to be claimed that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but enough so that the fingernails of his left hand dug into her side a little where he gripped her. A pleased smile took her lips at the feeling of him against her, already half hard: he could pretend to be aloof and composed all he liked, but she knew that there was only one possible outcome for this encounter. 

“I was just having a similar thought, as it turns out,” he murmured, breath catching slightly when Amina ground against him more deliberately this time. “She’s cornered me in my laboratory no fewer than three times this week, you see: my productivity has utterly plummeted.”

The way he whispered those words, his voice so sinful and cunning…

“Oh dear…” Amina tutted. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” She moved to slide from his lap, fully prepared to at least pretend that she cared a whit about Emmrich’s ‘productivity’ of late. 

He held her fast though, keeping her on his lap with his hands and arms, and the sheer fact of his existence alone. She rewarded him with a satisfied hum and another agonizingly slow roll of her hips, suspecting that she was probably beginning to soak through her thin pants.

His hand dropped from her waist to her thigh and he palmed the expanse of hard muscle there, dragging his fingers towards her hip as he leaned forward and his hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear, driving a small gasp from her as she flinched in his grasp: he had not been idly boasting during that dinner date about his anatomical prowess.

“I fear I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he confided, those artful, nimble fingers of his straying to her waistband and slipping beneath it. He sharply inhaled through his teeth and uttered a soft ‘oh’ when he found her waiting for him, slick and needy. There was a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “She is intoxicating, you see…”

She moaned encouragingly as he swirled a finger through her, clearly enjoying the experience of her arousal alone: she could distinctly feel his hardness against her rear now.

Oh how she longed to ravish him - ride him to completion on this very chair, or on the floor perhaps. Maybe against one of the many bookshelves that lined the room - they had dallied against one the week before, her leg hitched up around his thin waist, pulling him deeper as he set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs and hit angles that caused her to see stars. 

Or she could bend over the railing of the balcony upstairs and feign interest in the curious nature of their environs while he slammed into her over and over again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips… 

Of course there had been the rather awkward instance a few days earlier where Manfred had wandered in on them both in a state of partial undress: Emmrich’s waistcoat hanging open, Amina dragging her hands through his hair, her own shirt piled in a careless heap on the floor nearby and Emmrich’s hand down her pants as she tried to kick off her high-heeled lilac slippers without removing her lips from his skin. Manfred had launched himself between the two of them with a consternated hiss, clearly interpreting their entanglement to mean they were fighting instead of well… the other thing. The following day, Emmrich gave his first in a series of many lectures to Manfred about the birds and the bees - and reiterated the invaluable virtue of always knocking before entering a room that might have someone else in it.

She was snapped from her musing at the sublime sensation of Emmrich’s finger dragging along the ridges of her walls as he slid the digit inside of her. She let out a small gasp at the intrusion and reflexively clenched around it, hips rocking against his once more. 

“... but I really must finish these letters.” There was a playful, coy edge to his voice as he slowly withdrew his finger and slowly pushed it back in. “This striking woman of mine will need to exercise patience today, it seems…”

Something about being his striking woman in particular sent a jolt of arousal straight through her very soul. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against her feverish skin as he cupped her sex, his thumb brushing almost tauntingly over her aching clit. 

“Please, Emmrich…” she whined, arching up into his touch, making her need plain. 

The demonstration of manners earned her a second finger, but her lover did not deviate from his task as he leaned forward, dipped the quill, and began to write once more. “In good time, my precious love,” he soothed. “Try to relax for the time being - I shan’t take long.” 

“It feels so good though…” 

“That’s wonderful, darling - I want you to feel good.” 

She fell silent, the wind in the sails of her desire to argue stilling as she let her head fall against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to exist in the moment - holding on tight to every emphatic response of her nervous system as Emmrich touched her with a capable familiarity that suggested he’d touched her a thousand times before; the erotic symphony of the quill scratching over the parchment mingled with the sound of his fingers moving within her… her breathy moans… his many bangles shifting gently with each purposeful gesture…

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured eventually - she had lost track of time - kissing her shoulder before returning to the letter. He had to be nearly done, hadn’t he? “So good for me… my sweet Amina…”

She whimpered at his words - the reverent praise tolling something deep within her that was starved and lonely. She writhed on his thigh as he placed tender kisses all over her cheek and crooked his fingers, stroking that euphoric place inside of her that made cognizant thought impossible and made her thighs tremble like she’d been in the training hall all day. He took her apart slowly, casually… effortlessly, and before long she was fluttering around him, cheeks and lips flushed a delicate pink, staring down an orgasm that was about to be everyone in the building’s business - she could feel it: the deep fire in her belly roiling and twisting on itself, going taut, so tense and eager that one more touch could snap it, yielding the most decadent release…

And then he was gone, the absence of his touch keenly felt as her walls flexed and tensed around the sudden nothingness. 

She glowered at him, though her stomach flip-flopped enthusiastically as she watched him taste her on his slender fingers with a dignified poise she should have expected. “That was cruel.”

“Is it cruel to strive to linger in a garden of untold majesty forever, even knowing forever is unobtainable?” He stroked those same fingers gently over her lips and she caught the tip of one between her teeth, flicking the very tip of her tongue over the fleshy pad of it. “I want to savour you, my dear.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. “Let me take my time.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unwanted 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, insults, body insecurity, perversion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You’re used to being unwanted, but a strange man might just convince you that’s a good thing.

Note: this is a sequel to Unsolicited/Unexpected, but with a different reader. This is Lloyd’s sequel. Peaches is flourishing somewhere else.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You run away from the uber and nearly crash into the front door. You scramble to get the keys in the lock as you refuse to look back at the car idling at the curb. You shake as you twist so hard your wrist throbs. You swing inside and just as quickly turn the lock. 

You heave and turn your back to the door. You can't believe what just happened. What he did with you right there in the back seat. Your eyes tinge with hot tears and your nose tingles. 

“What’s it this time?” Derrick scoffs as he appears in a pair of loose grey sweats and oversized hoodie. You can’t tell that he’s been sleeping all day. “You’re such a cry baby.” 

“Nothing,” you turn and drop your bag on the side table. “It’s cold, that’s it.” 

“Sure,” he peels open the bag of chips in his hands. 

You shrug. He doesn’t care. He just likes an easy target. 

You unzip your coat and hang it. You leave your boots on the mat and swipe up your bag. You tramp past him and up to your room. 

You shut the door and throw your bag on the end of your bed. You’re restless. Unsettled by that strange man. Why is he bothering you? Of all people. How did he tack onto you. You’re nothing. You’re insignificant. Maybe that’s why. Just like Derrick, he knows you’re weak. 

Your phone vibrates in your back pocket. You flinch. It’s probably your mom ready to bitch you out about the dishes or dinner. You slip the cell free and check it. Private number. 

You answer, it could be your manager. 

“Hello?” You quaver into the speaker. 

“Mmm, there’s that caked-up cutie,” the gravely purr makes you shudder. “I was just thinking of you. Again.” 

“No,” you exclaim and hang up. You throw your phone and pace around. Why? Oh, maybe it’s all your own fault. 

You’re used to being unnoticed. Being the forgotten one. And for so long, you just wanted to be seen. You dreamed of some guy way out of your league picking you out of the crowd and telling you you’re special. But not like this. No, never this. That man is a creep. 

But who are you to be picky? 

No! No. Don’t do that. You’d rather be alone. The way he talks about you, the way he looks at you, even you can see that he’s no good. He’s just a pervert and you’ve seen enough Tiktoks to know better. 

Your phone vibrates again. You ignore it. That’s your only option. 

You leave your room and your cell. You go down and start on dinner. At least your mom won’t have anything to rant about, but you’re sure she’ll think of something. 

You glaze the chicken breast and put it in the oven. You start on the potatoes, seasoning them and adding lemon wedges to the pan. You slide those on the middle rack and rinse asparagus. The front door opens and closes as you focus on the simple tasks over the complicated thoughts nipping at your ears. 

“Smells good,” your father chimes as he enters, then clears his throat, “oh, your mother isn’t home?” 

“Not yet,” you look at the time. You know she had her office holiday party but it is getting late. 

“Hm, well, put some aside for her,” he says. “Is it almost done? I’m starving.” 

“Yeah, twenty minutes,” you answer. 

He doesn’t say anything else before he leaves. You hear him upstairs as he gets changed then comes back down to flip on the television. Your brother’s surround speakers blare through the other wall as he games on his PC. 

The front door opens again. Your mother’s shrill voice carries through with a gust. 

“Oh, that’s so wonderful,” she preens. “How sweet of you.” 

You put the asparagus in the pan and pause. Who is she talking to? You turn with the spatula in hand and near the doorway. You peer down the hall and see a broad set of shoulders. Wait, you know the back of that head. 

“I mean, much more considerate than my own daughter. She’s never mentioned you,” she touches his chest as you see the smirk on her face. You grimace. 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” Lloyd says. “We were just talking earlier and she told me to come for dinner.” 

“She did? Well, isn’t that spontaneous. So unlike her,” your mom muses wryly. “Just like having a secret boyfriend. Older too.” 

“What’s going on?” Your dad’s growl wafts through and you shrunk back behind the doorframe and listen with dread. 

How are they not freaking out? This weirdo forty-year-old is just waltzing right into your house. This isn’t happening. 

“Hello, sir,” Lloyd says before he gives his name, “I’m here to see your daughter.” 

“That would explain the flowers.” 

“Scotch for you and wine for the missus, of course,” Lloyd explains. 

“Hm, that’s... top shelf,” you dad comments. Of course, he would care more about the fancy bottle than his own daughter. “Mitch,” he introduces himself. 

Your mom hollers your name, “you have companyyyyyy.” 

You cringe into yourself. How did he do it? How has he escalated everything so quickly? And why? Because you hung up on him? Because you closed your eyes when he-- 

Ew! 

She calls you again. You put your head back and gather what little courage you have. You turn and step into the hallway. 

“I’m just cooking dinner,” you say. 

“Get over here,” your dad demands. You know better than to disobey. 

“So when were you going to tell us?” Your mother prompts. 

“Tell you what?” You look at Lloyd sheepishly as he spins to face you and grins. 

“About us, sweetie,” he holds out a bouquet of pink roses, “oh, shoot, did I get the wrong day? I’m always forgetting these things, you know? I’m an executive and I have a pretty full calendar--” 

“Executive?” Your father echoes. 

Your mother hums, impressed. 

“We didn’t...” you try to summon a lie but you’re speechless. “Ummmm.” 

“I don’t know why you felt you had to hide us,” your mom challenges. 

“I didn’t? What?” 

“Well, it is about time, isn’t it, Enid?” Your dad intones. 

You gape at Lloyd as he shoves the flowers towards you, “these will need some water, sweetie.” 

You reach for them and look between your parents. You plead silently for help. Aren’t they supposed to protect you? Shouldn’t they be concerned that there’s an old man bringing you gifts? 

“Oh, dear,” your mom says, “do put them in crystal. They are so pretty.” 

“Just like her mother,” Lloyd adds. 

“Eh,” your father grunts playfully, “you could at least pour me a drink before you start flirting with my wife.”