#them: You’ll never use your degree!

[moonstruckme]

Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt

FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33

Thank you gorgeous!

cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal

(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt. 

“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen. 

Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife. 

“Overruled,” he decrees. 

Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.” 

“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out. 

“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.” 

“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?” 

“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast. 

It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up. 

James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips. 

An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to. 

“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off. 

“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck. 

The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him. 

“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?” 

You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.” 

Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.” 

Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both. 

“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.” 

James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.” 

You sigh. “I figured.” 

“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?” 

You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler. 

James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his fingers down your neck. 

“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.” 

You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows. 

“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.” 

“Wasn’t ready for what?” 

“To be sick.” 

The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?” 

“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb. 

When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums. 

“What is it?” James asks. 

“Thirty nine point five.” 

They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate. 

“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?” 

“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius had the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.” 

None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions. 

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice. 

James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.” 

“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.” 

Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb. 

“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”

It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”

#emt!marauders #emt!marauders x reader #marauders au #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders one shot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[prismatic-bell]

HEY EVERYONE

Do you enjoy the idea of Sticking It To The Man, but also you’re fucking tired? Maybe you appreciate the idea of direct action of some kind but ADHD, depression, or physical disability has made it nigh-on impossible for you to actually, you know, do shit?

Well, friends, allow me to introduce you to a small but significant thing you can do to Stick It To The Man while also benefiting your own mental health:

I haven’t bought green onions in a year.

If you’re sitting here thinking “holy shit, Nina, those look like hell,” you’re not wrong—they’re recovering from some unintended abuse. They survived two weeks in triple digits (that’s upward of 35 degrees for y’all with the weird sciencey math units) while I, uh. Forgot to water them. The outer layers dried out to protect the inner layers and as soon as I watered these thirsty bitches they went

They literally looked dead three weeks ago. So yeah, they’re not too pretty right now, but you wouldn’t be either, and they’re bouncing back nicely.

So, how to do this simple thing?

1) obtain dirt and a pot. You’ll want to do this first because the next steps go surprisingly fast. My green onions live in a 6” terracotta pot and some gardening topsoil, but you can use potting mix (not Miracle Gro tho, that stuff is trash), dirt from outside if you live in a place where it’s safe to do so, any kind of soil will do provided it’s clean and doesn’t contain pests (although most pests will leave alliums alone because they hate the smell). To be clear, because we love and respect our biosphere in this house, “pests” in this context means “bugs that specifically will attack green onions while providing no benefit to either the onions or any other plants you may have.” The pot is mandatory, however—if you want to do this year-round, you need to be able to move the onions inside/outside as weather allows/demands.

2) buy some green onions. You can skip straight to step 4 from here if you want, but if you’re planning to use them first…

3) cut them only to the tops of the white bits. In other words you ONLY want to use the green part.

4) put the white bits in a ramekin, measuring cup, etc. with some water. I’ve used things as big as juice glasses for this, but that’s really on the big end. Put your container in a window with some sun.

5) 3-5 days later, you should see about half an inch of root growth on the bottoms of your onions, and possibly the beginnings of a tiny green spear at the top. (Maybe a bit more, if they’re overachievers.) Plant them in your pot with just a bit of the white sticking up overtop of the soil.

6) water just a little bit, every other day. You want the soil to always be moist to the touch, but never out and out wet.

7) watch them sprout. This is excellent for your mood, by the way. Science says having and tending green things provides visible benefits to both your physical and mental health. We also know that making tangible things is good for your mental health, and green onions grow quickly, so you get benefits fast.

8) As they grow, you can reduce watering to three times per week because they’ll be able to store more water. The leaves will feel firm and “thick” (you’ll understand what I mean when you get to feel a properly-watered green onion) when they have enough water, much like a succulent’s leaves will get thicker and firmer when it’s well-hydrated, so it’s relatively easy to tell if they need a drink.

9) trim your onions as you need them! I try to never take more than 3-4 leaves in a week—about half a bunch—so it has time to grow more, but if you live with a bunch of people you can get around this by just starting more green onions. Buy three or four bunches and plant them all. They don’t go bad because they literally just grow until you need them. I’ve actually planned meals around “I have not used enough green onions lately and the leaves are bending under their own weight, I need to trim some tops.” Although the ones you see in the grocery store have open tops, you’ll notice closed spears on your new leaves, and these are completely edible. Yes, I regret to tell you they cut off and probably waste the tapered bits just for The Aesthetic. They’re just like any other green part of the onion.

AND YOU WILL NEVER NEED TO BUY GREEN ONIONS AGAIN. Just add a little soil now and again to replenish the nutrients.

Yes, they’re cheap. Yes, this is a small thing. But many small things added together are a big thing. And when you’re confident in your green onions, if you have the desire and ability to do more, there are many other plants you can grow from grocery-store starters.

GO FORTH. ENJOY THIS KNOWLEDGE.

[neptxn3]

Astrology observations I ☆*ೃ༄

♅ Earth Venus’ (+ degrees) have a traditional way of viewing relationships. Unless they have aspects stating otherwise, earth Venus wont complain about falling into traditional roles

Ex: Taurus Venus female will enjoy becoming a housewife (shopping/staying home).

Capricorn Venus male wont mind being the breadwinner.

♅ Virgo Venus underrated love language is words of affirmation. As much as they love doing small acts of service for you, a little bit of recognition for their hard work won’t hurt.

♅ Has anyone noticed Libra Suns like pretending to be a dumb blonde 🤨 I have 2 libra sun friends and they LOVE pretending like they don’t know stuff. I know their asses are lying when they look around to watch people laugh. Kim K is a good example of one, she acts like she’s ditzy but that woman is always plotting something behind the scenes like a mastermind.

♅ I hate the misconception around Sag Venus . Being ruled by the planet of luck, expansion, and foreign lands is accompanied by knowledge. When a Sag Venus enters a relationship they feel serious about they are willing to compromise certain aspects of their life to accommodate their partner, it’s only when their partners doesn’t wish the change when a Sag Venus will retreat. (They know they won’t be able to grow with you as a person).

♅ Mercury/Saturn challenging aspects will usually be slow in terms of communication (not intelligence) I find this placement has manifested itself as not being able to express your thoughts properly/poor memory/bad concentration, even speech impediments.

♅ Mars opposite Jupiter can be a mean girl aspect. How mean they can be depends on the mars sign, but this is an over abundance of anger when it comes to people being in their way to the point they can say some nasty stuff.

♅ Keep Pisces Venus/Mars partners on a leash! Underdeveloped signs (ruled by Neptune) will fantasize about things they used to do with their ex/romanticize people that they find ONE good quality in. These underdeveloped ones will have their heads up in the clouds 24/7🤒

♅ Scorpio Placements will try to convince you they’re mysterious and dark with some “hurt us and you’ll see real life hell”. I have met Scorpio STELLIUMS that are very chirpy. I’ll sit down and they will start telling me what happened in the 12 hours I didn’t encounter them. You’re not mysterious you just keep to yourself until you can find someone you trust.

♅ Libra moons are SO CHILL. I have a friend with an Aries stellium but her libra moon is pulling everything together. Libra moons could be so passionate (angry or happy) with a topic and they’ll never yell or raise their voice. Not the mention the ones I’ve met are SO pretty too 😭

#astrology #astrology observations #sag venus #virgo venus #earth venus #scorpio #libra sun #pisces mars #pisces venus #libra moon

[baddestbittyontheblock]

hong jisoo (joshua) fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

ꈍᴗꈍ vanilla by @milfgyuu  joshua hong x fem!reader | 11.2k words, friends to lovers, smut, 18+

-joshua has a secret but perhaps it’s not really a secret at all. maybe you’ve just refused to see it in an effort to keep your feelings at bay.

ꈍᴗꈍ vanilla II by @milfgyuu  joshua hong x fem!reader | 8.7k words, friends to lovers, romance, smut 18+

-joshua has you on edge all evening and you’re not sure if you’ll survive dinner with your families. you, however, have him dealing with feelings he’s never had to war with, especially in the bedroom and it throws him into a tailspin. 

ꈍᴗꈍ something more by @sluttywonwoo joshua hong x reader | swearing, smut (18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, choking, degradation, lowkey spit play, 4.5k

-it’s a tale as old as time- your roommate walks in on you masturbating and things escalate from there

ꈍᴗꈍ studio session by @sluttywonwoo joshua hong x reader | swearing, smut (18+), edging, sex toys, fingering, exhibitionism, degradation, 2.8k

-you and your boyfriend decide to try something new- aka letting other members watch him edge you (ft. seungcheol, jeonghan, wonwoo, seokmin, and vernon)

ꈍᴗꈍ your gentleman by @wonwussy joshua hong x afab!reader | smut, (minors dni), camboy!shua, voyeurism, exhibitionism, broadcasted oral (m), swallowing cum, pet names (for reader and viewers), very soft dom!shua if you squint and turn your head to the side 27 degrees, use of “sir”, TALK OF CONSENT (BECAUSE CONSENT IS SEXY Y’ALL); this is part of the collab with svthub, 2.2k

-“do you want to join me on stream this weekend?”

ꈍᴗꈍ honey lemon ginger by @seokmingiggles joshua hong x gn!reader | fluff, established relationship, the reader is sick (with the common cold)

-you’ve unexpectedly come down with a mild cold, yet your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate to leap in and take care of you.

ꈍᴗꈍ joshua blurb by @bbugyu joshua hong x reader

-bf joshua doting his girl

ꈍᴗꈍ lazy nights by @pileofwords joshua hong x reader | floofy fluff, 1.2k

-joshua comes home after a long day to find you in the middle of a beading project.

ꈍᴗꈍ title by @leejungchans joshua hong x fem!reader | fluff, established relationship au, ceo au, brief alcohol mentions and consumption

-in which your husband is all too happy to remind people of your new title.

ꈍᴗꈍ all my love by @jaestrz idol!joshua x idol!reader | fluff, angst

-the sound of soft background music was ringing in your ears as the room was filled with family relatives who knows if you knew them or not.

ꈍᴗꈍ love on air masterlist by @suhnshinehaos joshua hong x gn!reader | non-idol au, university au, childhood friends to ???, so much pining, fluff, a bit of angst, honestly so corny and cheesy

-joshua hong wants you to know how he feels about you, but god forbid he actually say it out loud. instead, he settles on the next best thing : dedicating a song to you every week on the campus radio. too bad you’re too dense to actually figure out it’s all for you.

ꈍᴗꈍ oceans and engines by @renjunphile hong jisoo x female!reader | exes to lovers!au, fluff, angst-ish, idol!au. fluff central. just thousands of words of self-indulgent fluff with little to no plot

-when hong jisoo left his beloved hometown at 18 years old, he also left you, his proclaimed great love. it takes another 7 years for you to catch up to him again and close the oceans in between you.

ꈍᴗꈍ impulsive by @leejungchans joshua hong x gn!reader | food mentions, kissing, fluff, humour(ish), university au, established relationship au, joshua’s flirty in this

-in which you help your boyfriend with yet another one of his 2am impulse decisions.

ꈍᴗꈍ non-flat by @venerex joshua hong x gn!reader | sex descriptions (but no actual sex), reader has some unspecified medical conditions and body insecurities, descriptions of body shape and stretch-marks (might be a trigger for someone with weight-related insecurities), 1.2k

-“something wrong?”

ꈍᴗꈍ smut blurb by @venerex joshua hong x fem!reader | oral (f receiving), head....pushing?

-"it's okay sweetheart, you can do it"

ꈍᴗꈍ forget with joshua by @venerex joshua hong x reader | orgasm denial, cockwarming, intercourse

-imagine coming home after a horrible day to a concerned joshua, who takes it upon himself to make you feel better - orders your favorite food, offers to ready a bath for you, offers cuddles etc.

ꈍᴗꈍ domino by @universecorp softdom!joshua hong x sub!afab!reader | fluff, crack, smut, standoffish reader (only for a bit), protected sex, slow burn, frat parties, Joshua is a butt when he's drunk/hungover, joshua is also bad at feelings, Throwing up (from drinking), past fling with jihoon(so y'all are pretty close), jealous joshua

-after a one night stand on your birthday, you never expected to meet the stranger again. you also never expected him to enter your life permanently.

ꈍᴗꈍ routine by @neonun-au joshua hong x reader | fluff, slice-of-life, established relationship

-domestic bliss

ꈍᴗꈍ simp by @horanghoe husband!josh hong x wife!reader | semi-sfw simping, mention of alcohol consumption, swearing, generally sfw

-joshua being a simp for his wife on a date while a babysitter watches the kiddos

ꈍᴗꈍ late to the party by @sluttywoozi  husband!josh hong x reader | no specified pronouns or gendered terms; wears a dress, makeup, heels, lingerie, has breasts and a vagina, horny and in love husband!joshua, swearing, kissing, dirty thoughts, spanking mention

-joshua would be so extremely down bad for his partner

ꈍᴗꈍ cute blurb by @husbandhoshi  joshua hong x reader

-joshua who, after making sweet love to you, wraps you up in blankets like a cloak so you stay warm before getting up to grab all the aftercare necessities

#kpop #kpop smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #svt joshua #joshua svt #joshua hong #joshua x reader #joshua hong x reader #fic recs #fic rec

[mockerycrow]

Hi 👋

I was wondering if we could have some fluff? But please only write when you're not busy.

Reader is sick, and how would each member take care of them, nursing them, telling the reader that they gonna take good care of them and then finish it off with some cuddles.

SICK MOMENTS; Ghost Edition (GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist

authors note; yet another “moments” series. idk who i’m doing next, but stay tuned :-) — this is an incredibly old WIP. i will be doing “sick moments” series, but i’m in horrible writers block and I want to finish off the 4k requests. life is busy, i’m so sorry!!!

[WARNINGS; implied civilian!reader, sickness, medicine/drug usage, celsius is used, mentions of vomiting, fluff.]

YOU END UP waking up in the middle of the night with the most painful ache in your throat and the worst headache you’ve ever experienced in your life. You’re drenched in sweat, your shirt—Simon’s shirt, actually—clinging to your sweat soaked back, and your blanket feels so suffocating. You can’t help the whimper that leaves you as the pulsing in your temples and eyes quickly turn to pounding, and you blindly shove the blanket off of yourself.

You don’t even think to look if Simon’s in the bed with you; not when your stomach is twisting so horribly you think you won’t make it to the bathroom. You push yourself out of bed and stumble out of the room and down the hall, and you don’t vomit, but you’re nauseous as you’re on your knees, your hands slick with sweat as you grip the toilet seat—something you’ll cringe and gag at later.

You aren’t too sure how long you’re there, waiting for the vomit to bubble up your esophagus, but you eventually feel a usually warm hand—cool at the moment due to your fever—rub the back of your neck. “Hey..” Simon’s deep voice fills your ears. sounds tired, as if he was sleeping before this. He probably was. You don’t look at him as your eyes are closed, but you let out a whimper of acknowledgment.

“Tilt your head up, love.. Mhm, that’s it..” You follow his direction, feeling something press against your forehead, a few flicking noises, and then a beep. Whatever he held against your forehead, Simon pulls away. “39 degrees..” Simon mutters, a sigh leaving him. “Hey, you think you’re gonna vomit?” He asks, being straight forward whilst also being conscious of your condition. You take a moment to think and you shake your head. “No,” You croak. “Just nauseous.”

Simon hums, his hand touching the back of your neck again reflexively in an attempt to provide you some comfort; some familiarity whilst your head spins with illness and pounding pain. The twisting and swirling feeling of the nausea in your gut and throat doesn’t settle for a good while, muffled noises of despair leaving your lips. Each time, Simon quietly acknowledges your pain, praising you for enduring it, that he knows that it hurts.

Simon hates when you’re in pain of any kind. He hates it from when you have an annoyingly painful stuffy nose to stubbing your toe on the corner of the couch—when you’re sick like how you are now, to when you frown when the water in the sink is a bit too hot for your liking. If Simon could shield you from any harm and pain, he would in an instant. In a perfect world, you would never be sick and never stub your toes, you would never have colds and the water would magically be the correct temperature.

Alas, this is reality.

“It’s too early to phone the doctor but I will make sure to do first thing when they open, alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep voice rings in your ears, so low that it vibrates in your chest for a moment—and just for a second, your nausea goes away. You wish you could box his voice up and put it in your ears all the time from how soothing you find it. You realize you didn’t respond when Simon calls your name softly and you nod, your eyes remaining shut. “I wanna die.” You moan unseriously, your eyebrows twinging together from the pain between them deep in your skull.

Simon chuckles and squeezes the back of your neck softly. “I’m going to fetch you a glass of water and some medicine to help you until morning. I’ll be right back.” You respond with a simple nod, focused on keeping the nausea away. You’re sure Simon has teleporting capabilities because he’s back by your side in record time. He’s helping you tip your head back, his hand carefully cradling the back of your head and slipping a couple pills into your mouth, carefully giving you sips of water. Not too quick to further your nausea, not too slow to have you think about it too much.

The water is refreshing and cold when it slips down your throat. “There you go,” Simon praises softly, his tone so soft that it contradicts the natural low, grittiness in his voice. “Gave you some anti nausea, some pain meds. I’m not sure if I should give you any fever reducers yet. I’ll be monitorin’ your fever.”

You nod, shuddering slightly as the hand on the back of your head goes to your jaw and neck, guiding your head to lean against his thigh as Simon is standing up straight. “I don’t think I can move yet.” You croak loud enough for him to hear, which earns his callused thumb stroking over your cheek. “That’s alright, love.” Simon murmurs. “We can stay like this as long as y’need. I’ll get ya set up in the living room when you’re feeling a bit better, yeah?”

You nod, turning your head to bury half of your face into his sweatpants, feeling eternally grateful for this man. It took you both a long time to get to this point together—a lot of push and pull between you two, a lot of communication and a lot of trust. In the end, it’s been worth it.

🏷️; @mlmxreader @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @queen-leviathan @specter319 @morganight

not tagged? i wasn’t able to or i was confused on your tag list choices </3 interested on joining my tag list? click here and fill it out. :)

wrongly tagged? let me know and update your tag list form!! it won’t bother me :-)

#call of duty #cod #call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x gn!reader #simon riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ‘ghost’ riley #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #mw2 x reader #cod mwii

[awyeahitssam]

Time travel AU; Tomarry

Harry was seven the first time he appeared.

Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 

Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.

Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 

The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  

Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.

(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)

Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 

Where was it cold this time of year? 

Sweden? 

Antarctica? 

Iceland? 

Did the boy even speak English? 

Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 

“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.

What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 

“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”

The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”

Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!

“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 

“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 

“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 

The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.

“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 

Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 

He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  

The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 

“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 

“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 

“Surrey? I was just in London…”

Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”

“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 

“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”

“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”

The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.

Harry watched him, considering. 

“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”

The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”

...

Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.

“...Harry?” 

He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 

Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.

“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 

Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?

But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.

This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.

Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” 

Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.

Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.

Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.

It must have started tingling.

“That’s…” 

“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 

“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 

How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.

Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.

“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 

Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.

Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.

“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.

“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.

“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 

It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.

Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.

Tom found he didn’t mind

It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 

Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.

“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 

As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 

“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”

In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 

He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 

But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 

Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.

…

“You’ve gone pale.”

Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 

“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 

“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”

“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 

…

“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”

“31st of December, 1940.”

“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 

“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”

Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”

Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”

“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 

Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”

A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 

Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.

…

Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 

“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 

“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 

“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 

“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”

“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 

Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”

Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 

Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”

Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”

Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”

“Shall we duel?”

“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”

“Then lead.”

Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.

“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 

Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 

“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 

Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 

Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 

Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”

Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.

“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”

Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.

An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.

…

The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.

But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.

It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.

But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 

Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.

There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 

“Tom, I -”

Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 

Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”

Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 

“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 

“Harry, who—”

“Please, Tom!”

Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.

‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 

The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.

“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 

“Avada Ked—“

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio.”

The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 

Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”

Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 

Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”

“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 

“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”

“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

“Harry—”

“Do you want to die?” 

There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 

“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 

Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.

“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”

#time travel au #Tomarry #I love coming across things I forgot I wrote #and getting that spark of surprised joy #this was written many years ago. I hope it can bring someone a quick smile. #my writing

[succubusmunson]

Illict Affairs

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Something changed within Eddie and now he only has time to fuck you and dump you like you mean nothing.

Warnings: SMUT (MDNI), angst, hurt/no comfort, eddie using reader (being bit of a fuckboy), dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, begging, a little degradation, spanking, hair pulling, pet names, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink if you squint

WC: 3.7K

(after months it’s finally done! i hope you enjoy)

Remember to reblog and support the author!

Things were so simple before Eddie made new friends. The two of you would go out in public, hand in hand, lips pressed to your temples. One would never be seen without the other. 

It was common knowledge to know what the two of you had going on; the stolen kisses and even more behind closed doors. It was never an official thing between the two of you, but you always hoped it could be. 

That all quickly changed once he got more friends. It was now late-night calls, meeting in dimly lit parking lots so he could fuck in the back of his van and then drop you off back home before going to wherever it was that kept him from you.

Eddie used to be so gentle with you. Letting his friends know you were his girl, taking you on small dates. He was still like that, but you only saw that in private now. 

And as much as your heart broke being his fling, you couldn’t say no to him. Not when he treated you so well, doted on you, loved on you. Not when he made you smile so big your cheeks hurt. Not when the sex was so good that you could barely walk the next morning. 

Eddie said it was this way because he wasn’t good at love, that he could never give you what you truly wanted in life. But you knew that was all a lie. You saw how he loved and cared for you. His eyes were so full of it. You just wish he saw what you saw. 

That’s how you ended up where you are now, hurrying to get out the door after he had called you from a pay phone, telling you to meet you at the car shop parking lot for a quickie. You wanted this time to be the last. You even told yourself that as you passed on the perfume, knowing he would complain about the lingering smell once he was finished with you. 

Deep down in your mind, though, you know you’ll crave him the second he drives off your street. Your heart will ache, and you’ll repeat the same circle of getting hurt all over. 

Did he know how much you hurt being the second choice now? Did he know how much you yearned to go back to the way it was before everything had happened? Did he know your feelings for him?

You were so caught up in your feelings that you didn’t realize that you had made it to the parking lot. Eddie was sitting in the back of the van, his legs dangling as he held a lit cigarette between his lips when you spotted him.

“Finally! I was starting to think you blew me off.” He stepped down from the vehicle, quickly making his way to engulf you in his arms. 

That scent, his scent. It’s another thing you crave from him; lingering smoke, musk, a bit of sandalwood. It was the same old cologne that he borrowed from his uncle Wayne and you never got tired of it. You wish you could smell it forever, let it seep through your pores, and stay there. 

“No, you know I couldn’t blow you off.” God, how you wish you could. You want nothing more than to say no to him, but you can’t. He’ll always find another way to rope you in. 

“Well,” his hands dropped lower, gliding across the plump of your ass. “Now that you’re here…”

Eddie never wasted time.

The heat in your body felt like it had turned up 90 degrees just from having his hands on you. You wanted them everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

Slowly, you got out of his hold, crawling into the back of the van. You made sure to shake your ass, enticing him more. 

“Oh, so we’re playing that game.” Eddie spanks you, his ringed fingers making you gasp in pain and pleasure. “Remember you started this.”

“Who? Me?” You smiled at him as you laid on your back, watching as he shut the doors once he was inside. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

You felt hot and gross all at once. Why were you letting this go on? You could easily walk out those doors and never turn back, but you stayed put. You’re giving yourself whiplash with these thoughts. 

Eddie laid on you, his whole body now pressed against yours. You could feel his cock against your thigh, throbbing. “Mmm, I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” 

His hands ran up the back of your dress, exploring you and the soft fabric.

“I-I,” you felt so stupid. How did he have this much of a hold on you?

“W-what’s that?” Eddie mocked you. He dipped his head low, his lips pressed against your ear. “Cat got your tongue?”

You tried to find the right words to say, but it was so hard when you could feel his hot breath against your skin. “I know nothing.” 

He chuckled against your skin before pulling away, a smirk plastered on his face. “You do know.” Eddie sat back on his calves and started to work on his belt, fingers moving fast to get to the point. “But we can continue to act like you don’t.”

Your mouth suddenly watered with need as he pulled down his pants, his cock throbbed in his boxers. You could even see the wet patch of the precum starting to form. 

Seeing that gave you hope, an ounce of it. Maybe he did feel something from you. Maybe that’s why he had this reaction to your body and kept you around for so long. 

“Close your mouth, pretty girl.” Eddie reached forward and ran his thumb around your plump bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth. You sucked on it, swirling your tongue around the bad of your finger. His eyes darkened even more than before. “Look at you, always needing something in that pretty mouth.”

“I prefer something other than your thumb.”

With one hand, he pulled his cock from his boxers. The tip was leaking with precum, almost dripping with it. “Come get it.” He moved beside you, leaning against the side of the van, “what are you waiting for?” 

The way his words echoed in your head made your legs clench, and your heart ache. Why were you doing this to yourself? Why was he doing this to you?

You turned yourself over and rested your upper body on his jean-clad thighs. Your fingers gently ran across his cock, making him quietly whine. “I gotta have my fun too, right?”

Your tongue darted out, catching a bead of precum that dribbled over your finger. The second the salty taste hit your tongue, you moaned. “You always taste so good.” 

“Fuuuck,” Eddie grabbed your hair, pulling your head to the side. “C’mon, don’t tease me like this, sweetheart. Let me feel that warm mouth, yeah?”

“Like this?” You wrapped your lips around the red, angry tip. 

“That’s fucking it, that’s my girl.” Eddie guided your head up and down his cock, thrusting his hips to make you gag around his cock. “Awe, is it too big for you?”

You moaned around his cock, him saying my girl shooting through your body and right to your cunt.

His cock felt so good in your mouth, sliding down your throat, and making your eyes water each time you gagged. This is how he likes (you wished it was love) you; his cock in your mouth and your eyes trained on him. 

Eddie looked down at you and thrust his hips, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over again. “Such a good fucking girl with a pretty mouth. You love being used, don’t you?” 

No, you didn’t, but you’d never tell him that. It would ruin everything that this, whatever this was, the two of you had built. 

His cock was fully in your throat, your nose buried into the thick patch of curly hair at the base of it. Eddie's cum filled heavy balls pressed to your chin, your drool dribbling down his balls and between your cleavage. 

“Jesus- look at you.” Eddie held your head still as he kept thrusting in your mouth, making you gag until your lungs burned, and his eyes were rolling back. 

You were a sight, a sight that Eddie mewled over each time you swallowed around his thick cock.

You pulled your mouth from his cock slowly. Salvia strung from your swollen lips to his spit-soaked cock. Your lips trailed kisses on the underside of it, your tongue darting to lick here and there before you got to his balls. 

“O-oh shit.” The hand Eddie has in your hair pulled harder as you sucked his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the velvety skin. “You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

You hummed around the heavy sack. He had a certain way with words, always knowing what to say to turn you into putty for him. It never took much, though. 

“Fuck, fuck- shit.” He gasped as you brought a hand around the base of his cock to pump it slowly, swiping your thumb over the tip, as your mouth still played with his balls. The wet schlick sound echoed in the small van. 

You let your teeth barely graze his balls before sucking them both in your mouth, pulling on them. “Gonna make me cum already, sweetheart.”

All of your movements halted. He couldn’t cum yet, not when you had just met with him for the night. You wanted to prolong this meeting. 

“I wasn’t done.” Eddie sat up on his elbows and looked at you, in shock and cock achingly hard. “Just a bit more, sweetheart.” 

You wanted to roll your eyes and leave him with blue balls, but you couldn’t. Instead, you looked over at him with your big doe eyes and spread your legs. You had purposefully not worn any panties, your cunt already soaked and glistening in the van's light. “Is it my turn yet?” 

Eddie gawked at you, his eyes glued to where you dripped for him. He pushed you back with a hand, slotting his body between your thighs. His jeans rubbed roughly against your clit, and it was enough to have you keen for more. 

“God, I fucking love you like this.” 

There it is. There’s those stupid words that he always said, that made your stomach fill with butterflies and your heart pound in your chest. If only he truly meant it, if only he could see the love swim in your eyes each time he said it. 

“Do you?” You took his hand at your side and guided it up your legs between your thighs. “You feel what you do to me?” 

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed when his fingers ghosted over your slit. He could feel how wet you were, the pad of his finger now covered in your slick.

“Who got you this wet?” Eddie kissed up your neck, stopping to nibble here and there. You were sure to see some scattered hickies tomorrow. 

He was pulling the most perfect whines from you. “Don’t go all shy on me now. Answer the question.”

You dropped your head down, not meeting his eyes. “Y-you did.” Your voice was barely a whisper. Not one part of you wanted to admit he did anything for you. You didn’t want to boost his ego. 

With a rough hand, Eddie grabbed at your cheeks. He gently pushed them together, causing you to pout. 

You now were looking directly into his eyes. The eyes that were so big and beautiful, filled with so much lust that he would probably burst at the seams if possible. 

“Speak up.” He licked at his bottom lip before smirking at you. “Who got you this wet?”

Your head rolled to the side, as closed as he kept his skilled fingers on your cunt, barely rubbing. “You, you got me this wet.” 

Eddie wanted it to always be this way. You were so quick to tell him that he got you this wet, but he wanted more. He wanted to call you his and hold your hand in public again, but things had changed within him. He didn’t deserve to be loved by you like that. 

Sex was the only way that he could let you in anymore, it was the only time that he let a part of him show his all to you. But in his eyes, it was better to hurt you this way than to let you have his heart fully and then rip it away from you. 

Everything in your body was betraying you; your cunt, your heart, your head. They all needed and wanted him. 

Eddie smirked proudly at you, his fingers circling your clit before dipping into your soaked cunt. “That’s a good girl. Keep it up, and I might let you cum.”

You couldn’t say anything, only whined as his fingers curled right into your g-spot immediately. Your fingers gripped at his arms, your face buried in his neck. “I-oh!” 

Your thighs shook around his arm, wanting to close around it so bad, but you knew he wouldn’t let you. He loved to see how much you shook and writhe because of him. Seeing it, seeing you like this boosted his ego beyond words. He felt like he could do everything and anything. 

You could hear how soaked you were, the sounds flooding your ears. “Fucking hell! Feels so good!”

“Yeah? You hear that? That’s all you, sweetheart.” The heel of Eddie’s head rubbed perfectly at your swollen clit each time he pumped his fingers. “You’re making such a mess, baby. You gonna clean my fingers when I’m done?” 

“Uhuh!” Your heart sped up, and you gasped loudly when he added a third finger, getting you nice and stretched open for his cock. “Oh my god, oh my god.” 

Eddie gently kissed your forehead as his fingers slid in and out of your faster, the soft squelch sounds echoing off the van walls. “I can be your god, sweetheart.”

If only he knew just how much you truly worshiped him.

“I- I’m so close,” you were clenching around his fingers, craving that orgasm you needed so badly. “Please, Eddie!” You looked up at him, your eyes full of tears from being so close to cumming.

But just before you could cum, before you could feel the euphoria, he slid his fingers out of you. “W-what the fuck?” 

When you opened your eyes to look at him, his dripping fingers were in front of your face. “Go on, clean up the mess.” 

Obediently, you slowly wrapped your lips around them. You tasted yourself and moaned, tongue sliding between his fingers to get every bit of the mess you made. 

“You follow orders so well. I might just keep you around.” 

Oh, how you wished he actually would, and not just for the nights when he was lonely. 

You got on your knees, making sure your ass was in there air. Eddie never wanted to see your face when the two of you fucked. Why? You don’t know, but maybe it made sense. Maybe it was better for you too. 

“Look at you,” he rubbed a rough hand over the globe of his ass before pulling your hips toward his. You could feel his throbbing cock rut between your bodies. “You already know just how I want you.” 

“I’ve had a lot of practice.” You wiggled your hips against him, silently begging.

You gripped at anything you could find when he nudged your cunt open with just the leaking tip of his cock, your eyes already rolling in the back of your head. 

“Better squeeze my cock the way you squeezed my fingers, pretty girl.” Within seconds, Eddie bottomed out. His balls were pressed against your clit, hips flushed with yours. “God damn- I won’t ever get used to how tight you are for me.”

You felt so full, his cock stretching you open with the most pleasurable sting. “Please… move.” 

“You sound so pretty when you beg for me.” Eddie pulled out, leaving only the tip inside your soaked cunt. “Do it again.”

“Eddie,” you turned your head to the side, looking into his brown eyes as much as possible. “I need you to fuck me, I-I need to feel you as deep as possible. Just-“ 

Before you could finish your sentence, Eddie had pulled all the way out and slammed back in. Your back arched and your head slumped forward against the floor of the van. “I love it when you say my name. Sounds so pretty falling from your lips.” 

With each hard snap of Eddie's hips against your own, you could feel yourself draw closer to an orgasm. Your toes curled and your back arched, the praises spewing out of Eddie’s mouth. 

“Such a tight pussy.” His rough hands pawed at your ass, spreading your cheeks so he could watch his cock get swallowed by your cunt. “Best pussy I’ve ever-jesus christ- had.” 

Eddie reached forward and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling your back against his chest. “Say it. Say that this is my pussy.”

“I-It’s…” Your mind was foggy, not only from his cock pounding into the sweet spot that had you seeing stars, but from the fact that he was being so possessive over your body. 

“Fucking say it!” A rough hand came down in a harsh spank!, making your thighs shake and your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“It’s yours!” You bit your lip hard enough for the familiar taste of blood to hit your tongue. “It’s all yours, Eddie!” 

And it was. Every single part of you belongs to him, or yearned to. He just didn’t see it. 

“That’s fucking right.” Eddie shoved you back down to the floor and fucked you with fervor. “Gonna pump you so full of cum that on your way home, it’ll be dripping down your legs.”

You were sure there would be handprint shaped bruises for you to see and feel in the morning, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Please,” you arched your back, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten even more. “Please come inside me.”

He bunched the bottom of your dress around your hips and used it as leverage to drive his cock deeper into you. You squeezed your eyes shut as his cock pressed into your g-spot, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

All it took was one more hard, deep thrust and your body shook as your orgasm took over. Eddie’s name was a repeated prayer on your lips, your hands searching for anything to hold onto as every nerve ending in your body was set off. “Oh my- fuck, yes!” 

Your thighs shook and your nails scraped along the floor off the van as your orgasm took full control of you. All you could mutter was incoherent babbles as you soaked Eddie’s cock. 

The tightening of your pussy and the way his name sounded on your lips as you came was enough for Eddie to spill into you. “That’s it, take it fucking all!” His cock twitched inside you, emptying all he had to give. “My pretty girl, all full of my fucking cum.”

You felt the warmth of it flood your body as he held your hips against his, his cock twitching and giving you everything he had with labored breaths. 

“God damn- always cum so damn hard when it’s inside of you, sweetheart.” 

After pulling out and watching the mixture of cum leak from your used cunt, he laid his body over yours for a brief moment of actual intimacy. It barely took a second for you to feel that emptiness inside and out. That craving for him to come back and touch you taking over so quickly. 

And just as quickly as you answered his call and met him here, it was over. The time you spent together never lasted long anymore. It was long enough for him and you to come undone and then you were out the car door, left with the sulking feelings of hurt and emptiness.

It was quiet as the two of you got dressed, almost too quiet. You took this moment as an opportunity to talk to him, no matter how dumb you may sound after. 

“Eddie, can we talk?” Your voice was quiet, a bit hoarse from all the moaning you did just minutes prior.

He saw the glint in your eye when he turned around after adjusting himself back in his pants, he knew exactly what was on your mind. Even though it broke his heart to do this to you, he couldn’t let you in. It would never be like it used to be. 

“We’ve been over this before.” He gave you a soft smile before looking down at the time on his watch, “Plus, I have somewhere to be.” 

Of course, he does. Sex was the only time he had for you.

“I-I know, it’s just- it’s been a while since we have.” You reached for his hand, any ounce of intimacy to change his mind. 

Eddie let you hold his hand for barely a second before he pulled it away to open the back doors and let you out. You’d be walking home alone again.

He slowly shook his head before he helped you out of the van. “Look, you knew what was going to happen before we even started it.” The sound of the doors shutting made you jump. “You gonna go back on your word now, baby?” 

The guilt ate at Eddie as he put on this act that he didn’t care. 

And you were hurt. Hurt, annoyed, and mad, all at once. Yeah, you knew what this was, but you would think after months of doing the same thing over and over again, he would give you a smidge of something. You just wanted that small amount of hope that the two of you could be something different.

“Don’t,” you stepped away from him and the van. “Don’t call me baby.”

“What?” Eddie chuckled from behind you. “Is this how you’re going to be right now? Didn’t we just have a good time together?”

“A good time? We do the same thing every fucking time you call me up. Why don’t we go out and actually do something fun? We never do that anymore.” You started to look down at your feet, avoiding all eye contact with any part of him. 

You heard the jingle of Eddie’s keys as he pulled them out and walked in front of you, his body pressed into your side. “I’ll call you again tomorrow.” You could hear the slight smirk in his voice as he spoke against your ear. “You always answer the phone for me, baby.”

Before you could even speak up, the van had already started and moved out of the parking lot. You stood there, a mess all because of him. 

And he was right. You would go against yourself and do this all over again, no matter how many times you got hurt. You could never say no to him.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic

[valeskafics]

"Lights, Camera, Action!" (Part 4 of 4) - Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader - Modern AU

a/n: catch up on this fic HERE

Summary: Aemond finally takes you on your date, and in spite of wanting to take it slow, he just can't resist you.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, s*x work/adult film industry, daddy kink, semi public sex, mirror kink, choking, creampie, fluff, light spanking

Word Count: 2,150 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Aemond has never felt so nervous about a date before in his entire life. He doesn’t know why, but he just knows that you’re the girl for him. He clears his throat and rings your doorbell, shifting his weight from foot to foot, waiting for you to come out. And when you do, in that little black dress and strappy golden heels? His entire face lights up. You can’t help but smile back at him, a bit nervously, as you lock your door behind you, the two of you walking toward his car.

“You look amazing,” Aemond compliments.

“I know, surprising. I look nice with my clothes on too,” you tease.

He laughs at your comment, his good eye drinking you in, “You look amazing with or without clothes.”

The two of you reach his car and you raise an eyebrow, “Is that… A Lambo?”

Aemond nods proudly, holding his head a bit higher as he unlocks the sports car and opens the door for you, “It is. Cars are kind of my passion. This one is my favorite though.”

“Who knew porn could make you that much money?” you joke, sliding into the car, watching as he closes it after you.

He shakes his head in amusement, hopping into the driver’s seat, starting the engine and beginning the drive toward the Italian restaurant he’s chosen for the two of you, “So, Princess, I’ve been curious. What do you do aside from acting in adult films?”

“I’m in grad school.”

Aemond nods, thoroughly impressed, “Wow. Beauty and brains. What are you getting your degree in?”

“Philosophy,” you tell him, fiddling with his stereo and finally settling on an alternative rock station, the volume low so the two of you can continue chatting.

Aemond grins at your words, “I got my degree in philosophy too!”

“No way,” you giggle, “You’re just messing with me.”

“No, I swear,” he says earnestly, “That’s crazy! Anyway,” he takes a right turn and begins slowing to a stop, “I hope you’re hungry. This is the restaurant I wanted to bring you to.”

“It’s totally crazy,” you agree as he pulls up at the restaurant, “Oh my gods, I can’t afford to eat here! This is a Michelin star restaurant, Aemond!”

He snickers at your reaction, coming around to rest a hand on your lower back as he escorts you into the restaurant, “Look, you’re a princess and I intend to treat you as such. Just let me do this for you, yeah, love? You’ll love the food here, I swear.”

You think for a moment before relenting. You have always wanted to eat at this restaurant after all, the finest in King’s Landing. Aemond takes your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb in a gesture that makes you feel so strangely at ease. He leads you inside, where he seems to know the staff by name and is immediately given a table. He pulls your chair out for you, lowering his lips to your ear.

“Just let me take care of you tonight, Princess.”

You shiver slightly at the way his breath tickles your ear and nod at him, ready to agree to whatever he says. He chuckles, smiling at you, loving the way you react to him, to his touch. Instead of taking a seat opposite you, he takes a seat beside you in the secluded little booth, resting his arm behind you in an almost protective fashion. He orders a bottle of Arbor Gold for the table and requests that you two have their finest tasting menu, something that the waiter is all too happy to run off and tell the chef.

The minute the waiter leaves, Aemond turns to you, an almost shy smile playing on his lips as he murmurs, “Can I tell you something?”

You nod slowly, taking a sip of your water, “Sure.”

He leans in close, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “You’ve been on my mind ever since we did that first scene together.” Aemond’s gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips as he continues, “You’re just the kind of woman I like, Princess. And I want you. Bad.”

You give him a coy smile, trying to play off the intensity of his words as you cross your legs, “How do you know what kind of woman I am?”

“You’re sweet. You’re intelligent. You’re absolutely gorgeous,” Aemond gives you a tiny smirk, resting a hand on your thigh, “You’re sort of perfect, you know that?”

You feel yourself melt slightly at his words. You brush your foot against his calf, reveling in the way his breath hitches at that tiny touch alone.

“I’m flattered,” you smile at him, resting your hand over his.

“I really want to kiss you,” he rasps, “And maybe more. But I know this is our first date and I want you to know I respect you as a person, as a woman, and-”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts forth from your lips at the way he stutters and stumbles over his words, shaking your head gently as you rib, “We’ve fucked on camera and you wanna take things slow? That’s really cute, Aemond, I’m not gonna lie.”

He chuckles awkwardly, “I really love the way you say my name, you know that? It’s just,” he pauses, thinking how best to articulate his point, “On-screen is fake, you know? And this, right here, this is real. This isn’t two characters we’re playing. This is me with you. I want you to feel comfortable with me and I want to build something real with you.”

You nod in understanding, smiling at him, “I get that. And I appreciate it. I appreciate you respecting me that much and I hold the same respect for you.”

Aemond’s cheeks flush at the way you look at him, “I really like you.”

He leans in and so do you as you speak softly, barely loud enough for him to hear, “I really like you too.”

He beams at your words before asking, “Can I maybe have a kiss? For now?”

You watch as his gaze moves from your lips back up to meet your eyes and whisper, “What happened to taking it slow?”

“I can’t help myself when you’re sitting there looking like that. Looking at me like that.”

You lean in slightly closer and breathe, “Looking at you like what?”

“Like you want me,” he says, his voice low and husky as he moves his hand to rest on your cheek and pulls you in for a soft, tender kiss. It’s nothing like the ones you’ve shared on camera. This is sweet and gentle, like he wants to worship you, to take his time learning everything there is to know about you. “Your lips are so soft,” Aemond murmurs between kisses before the two of you begin kissing again.

You’re interrupted by the waiter clearing his throat, leaving the wine and your first course at the table. Aemond’s cheeks flush a bright red while you slump in your seat slightly, both of you feeling almost like two children who were caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“Right, this is a restaurant,” Aemond mumbles awkwardly, “Not my room.”

“That would be correct,” you grin at him, the two of you bursting into laughter, “Sorry I got carried away, Princess. I hope that was okay.”

You move to take his hand in your own and shake your head, “Don’t apologize. It was more than okay.”

Your touch sends shivers up and down his spine and he can’t help but smile at you as the two of you sip on your wine. He’s never felt this content. Granted, he’s experienced a lot in his time in the industry, but the chemistry he has with you, this connection, it’s something completely different.

“I guess I’ll have to refrain from seducing you for now,” Aemond sighs jokingly.

You choke on your drink, “You have no chill. Absolutely zero.”

Aemond laughs, rubbing your back, “Not when it comes to you. I’ve been dreaming about taking you out on a date for so long now, I can’t help myself. I know it sounds kind of pathetic and embarrassing-”

“It doesn’t,” you cut him off, your voice gentle as you smile at him.

“Well in that case,” Aemond gives you a lazy smile that is too seductive for his own good, “There’s so much I want to do to you, Princess. I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “It’s not even just the physical stuff. You just… I love talking to you.”

He brushes his nose against yours, “I feel the same way. I feel like I could talk to you for hours. But, you know, also other things. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve never been so attracted to anyone in my entire life.”

“Me either,” you pause before adding, “You drove me nuts in that last scene.”

Aemond smirks, “I enjoyed that a lot too. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About you.”

“I know we said we’d take it slow,” you trail off, “But I don’t think I can wait anymore.”

Aemond nods eagerly, “Me too, thank the gods you said it.”

“We’ve got a little bit before the next course,” you whisper in his ear, “Follow me up to the bathroom after two minutes.”

Aemond watches you leave, your hair slightly tousled, a spring in your step as you walk, your hips swaying in that way that drives him insane. He waits the requisite two minutes and then follows after you to the ladies’ room. And the minute he closes the door behind him, the two of you are kissing again. His lips move against yours passionately, intensely as he presses you up against the wall, your legs hiked up around his waist. He rolls his hips against yours, making you feel how hard he is already, just from kissing you in the restaurant. Your hands move to tug at his gorgeous hair, watching it fall free from the bun he’d meticulously placed it in.

“I need you. So bad, Aemond,” you murmur, kissing his neck, biting down and leaving your mark on him.

Aemond lets out a low moan, his fingers moving up along your thigh to stroke you over your panties, “Fuck, Daddy’s little girl is already wet for him, hm?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you whimper as he continues, pressing down against your clit, rubbing slightly, “Fuck, Daddy, please, I can’t wait anymore. I need you.”

Aemond nods, lowering you down and manhandling you so that your back is to his chest, the two of you facing the mirror. He raises your dress to reveal your lacy black panties. He smacks your ass playfully, reveling in the little yelp you let out as he undoes his pants, just enough to free his cock. He enters you, slowly, inch by inch, loving the way you mewl against him, urging him on with your little pants. He finally bottoms out inside of you, loving how warm and wet you feel, just staying like that for a moment before pulling out and slamming back into you, loving the whine of “Daddy” you let out as he begins fucking you with abandon.

“Fuck, Princess, you feel so good squeezing Daddy’s cock like that,” he groans, his hand coming around to wrap around your neck, squeezing ever so slightly, just enough to restrict your airflow and make you look in the mirror, “Look at us, love, look how pretty you look when I fuck you.”

Your eyes flutter open. You watch yourself in the mirror as Aemond ruts into you, the tip of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot with each thrust, pulsating inside you, filling you up so perfectly, his balls slapping against your ass each time he pushes back into you. You let out a moan as he squeezes your throat even tighter, his lips pressed to your neck as you get closer and closer to your peak, your walls hugging him tight, so much that he can barely move. You reach your climax with a near scream of his name, and Aemond’s own release follows soon after as he spills himself in you with a low groan of your name.

The two of you stand there for a minute, breathing heavily before remembering where you are and fixing your clothes, walking back outside hand in hand.

“Sorry, my girlfriend and I got a little lost on the way back from the bathroom,” Aemond grins at your waiter.

“Girlfriend?” you tease, sliding into the booth as Aemond wraps his arm around you, “I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

“Princess, you’ve been mine since they called ‘lights, camera, action.”

And so you sit down to dinner with your boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon targaryen ii x reader #aegon targaryen ii x you #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #my writing #aegon targaryen ii #lights camera action fic

[gatorbites-imagines]

Dude, Absolutely write more about Steve and his 200 year old boyfriend. I wanna see into their life together more. Does Y/N become part of the avengers? What’s an average day for the two of them? What do the other Avengers think of them together? Has Steve ever called Y/N daddy out in public or in earshot of the other Avengers on accident? How inseparable are they? Anything you can come up with I’ll love man. Your writings so damn good!

Steve Rogers x Male reader

Headcanons

I was honestly so in love with the kinktober prompt with Steve and his 200-year-old lover, so I got excited when I got this request. Let’s say his hero name is Titan, just to have some old school sounding name.

The morning after your reunion, the two of you just laid in Steves bed, basking in each other’s presence and the fact that you were both alive.

After many kisses, from pecks to deep tongue filled kisses, and after a few rounds of Steve riding you again, as he was so taken with the fact that he finally could, you two finally talked.

You explained to him how you were a mutant, and how sorry you were for never telling him, how it had never crossed your mind to do so. And he apologized for throwing his life away like that, and leaving you the way he did.

Over the next couple of weeks, you stay in his apartment, even when Steve goes out to do avenger work or do stuff for SHIELD. He is always so tense when he walks in through the door, but he quickly finds you and crawls into your lap with a sighed “Daddy”, as if your presence alone is enough to calm him.

During this time, you introduce him to the future better than anyone else is able too, even rewarding him for being such a good student, just for the fun of it. You also end up telling him not to trust SHIELD, as you’ve seen who is involved with it, and what they do.

The Avengers team just assume Steve is uncomfortable with the future, and that’s why he’s always rushing home after missions or meetings, but in reality its to get home to you. When days are too rough, all he needs is you to squeeze him so tight his vision starts blurring and he’s left lightheaded.

He needs his daddy to take him out of his head, to take away his duty as Captain America, and just let him be your boy. Being with you is refreshing in the way that you always see him as Steve before you see him as Captain America, you’ll always see him as your boy before anything else.

The avengers first discover your existence during the attack on New York, as there is no way in hell you’ll allow your boy to run around on his own, especially not when you have more than a hundred years of experience than any of the members of the Avengers.

So, imagine their surprise when you come crashing in on your motorcycle, throw it right at a cluster of enemies, and immediately start tearing through the enemies with extreme skill.

I haven’t decided if you have any powers except for extreme strength, regeneration, no aging, the likes. But if you want, you can imagine the reader having any powers you want.

When everything is done and over with, the team, except for Steve, tenses when you start marching towards them. Seeing how you ripped apart the aliens with as much difficulty as one would a sheet of paper, they are on edge.

That is until you walk right past Tony, right past Natasha, right past all of them, walking right towards Steve. Whose face you take in your hands and start turning him this way and that, checking him over for injuries.

They’re all speechless to a certain degree, some more than others, especially when they see Steve start smiling and blushing like some kind of fair maiden.

Tony pulls a whole “are you guys also seeing this”, especially when you kiss Steve out of nowhere, and Steve almost arches into it, forgetting his shield somewhere on the ground to clutch onto you like a couple in an action movie.

Tony ends up being the one clearing his throat and being all “soooo… you gonna introduce us?” to get Steve and your attention.

Steve almost ends up introducing you as his Daddy, but he catches himself the last second and introduces you as his lover from before the war. When they want to know how you’re still alive, you just shrug and say you’re a mutant and you go by Titan.

After that you just kinda start hanging around the tower, but you aren’t an official part of the team. You don’t want to work for SHIELD, and you don’t want to work for the government. you’re also technically an honorary member of the X-men, a role you take seriously.

You end up getting along pretty well with the rest of the team, as you can take an interest in at least some of the things they are all into. You especially get along well with Tony, when you tell him you knew his father, and that he was a huge tool.

Seeing Steve with a man means that most of them need to change up the mental image they had of Steve, but seeing how happy and domestic you guys are, it’s clear it’s been a long-lasting relationship that just wasn’t in the history books.

If you guys end up rescuing Bucky and fixing him up without the whole civil war situation, you all end up just kinda living at the tower. You have your own apartment in Brooklyn, but its mainly for storage or if you and Steve need to go somewhere without anyone with super hearing nearby.

In the end its Bucky that exposes you guys for your title thing, as Steve has been too embarrassed to do it out in public the way you guys used too, and you respect his wants and needs.

It’s said in a very casual conversation too. Something along the lines of Bucky asking Steve “so, where’s was your daddy going this week anyway?” after you left to help the X-men. It causes a laugh from some of your teammates, as they think it’s a joke, until they see the blush on Steves face.

They’d think it’s just a kink for the bedroom in the beginning, until they start paying attention and hearing Steve mumble it to you when he needs comfort or reassurance. That’s when they learn its much more than just a kink.

It’s a way for Steve to give up all the pressure and responsibilities he feels in his life, for him to feel small and protected, to feel cared for, no matter what mistakes he may make. Its also there to reassure you that you are wanted and needed, that there is someone who loves you so deeply they want you to carry such a title to them.

Most of your team doesn’t really get it, but most of them have probably also seen weirder in their lives. Steve is also still a very private person in that regard, so it doesn’t call you that out in public, and you don’t make him.

Steve does allow himself to be more affectionate and vulnerable with you when your teammates are around, since they to some degree know what kind of relationship you guys have.

Like sitting in your lap on the couch when the team has movie nights, or letting you serve him dinner, or leaning against your chest when you hug him from behind. Or the times he is unsure of what to do in certain situations, and he looks at you for guidance.

Bucky is the calmest about it, since he remembers it from the 40s, and he had been around when it all started out. He didn’t have a title like you did, but he had seen how much comfort it brought you two, so he never questioned it.

So, all in all, the team accepts it as a dynamic you two have that they don’t really get involved with. Your knowledge helps them take down Hydra, and keeps lotsa the drama that happens in the movies from happening. Steves daddy didn’t just save him, but a lot of his teammates and innocent lives. Yay for Steves daddy.

#male reader #steve rogers #captain america #marvel #avengers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #captain america x male reader #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america headcanon #marvel imagine #marvel headcanon #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #avengers imagine #avengers headcanon #avengers x male reader #avengers x reader #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu headcanon #mcu x male reader #mcu x reader

[xfgpng]

“𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲”

— : [nsfw] arranged marriage, loss of virginity, virginity kink, unprotected sex, praise kink + pet names

— wc : 4.8k

it’s an auspicious date for the ideal wedding. as ideal as a wedding can be for someone who wasn’t in the loop until a week ago. she had never dreamed of getting married, it was all too much for her but she knew her place.

her parents are far too secretive about everything and she’s only been told that the man she’ll be marrying is someone of high status.

she’s was not surprised in the least, considering her parents cared more for their status and money than they did about her wellbeing. she wonders what she would’ve done without saeko tanaka, a lovely maid servant her parents had hired when she was barely a teen and saeko had finished high school.

“dear, you know your place in society, don’t you?” her mother smiles but that smile has never reached the old woman’s eyes and it left her feeling uncomfortable.

she sometimes wondered if her parents would be more proud of her if she was a boy. she was smart and ambitious and had already graduated university with her degree but it was never enough for them.

greed was an ugly demon, always lurking close by.

“first we bow to the heavens and the earth, darling”

she woke up with a loud gasp. the air around her felt cold and damp despite it being much warmer these last few nights.

it sounded like something had whispered to her but she supposed anyone would be jumpy, preparing for a wedding they didn’t want to be apart of.

her friends were right, it was ridiculous to agree to marry someone she didn’t even know. they wouldn’t even tell her his name.

“the age of social media” her father rolled his eyes, “i don’t need you going around making a mockery of this family on that ridiculous x app you like to be on”

what about what she wanted? she knew that none of that mattered to her parents anyway so it was pointless arguing and running away would create bigger problems.

there was no way she’d be able to fall back asleep and she knew that if she tried to sneak down to saeko’s room, there was a chance she’d run into her father since he was always up in his study and she was too angry to talk to any of her parents.

“it was just a dream” saeko says, helping her prepare breakfast, “don’t read too much into it”

she did have a had habit of being a superstitious but for days she’d been having strange dreams and then she finds out she’s engaged? it felt like a warning of some sort.

“i just don’t understand why they can’t tell me anything about him” she groans, “what difference does it make? i’ll still have to marry him”

“maybe he’s a politician” saeko offers which doesn’t help ease the nerves at all. she never imagined being married to anyone that important, let alone a politician.

she wouldn’t put it past her parents though, since it would make them look good in the eyes of the public. attorney general’s daughter marrying into a prestigious family and she can only imagine the people flocking to her mothers design company.

she felt like a pawn to them.

“a red veil is compulsory dear, you know how important this is for your father and i” her mother sighs, “don’t make this difficult for yourself”

“what does he do?” she asks, “the man i’m supposed to marry”

“why does it matter?” her mother rolls her eyes, forcing her to stand upright as her measurements are being taken, “he’s very important and it won’t do us any good if you upset him”

“i feel like a doll” y/n frowns, “it’s too tight”

“you are a doll” her mother cups her cheek, “the prettiest of them all and you’ll be the perfect bride”

and the perfect sacrifice

“tonight, you’ll wear white” her mother instructs, “it’s important that you look your best”

“what’s wrong with what i have on?” she frowns

“don’t be silly” her mother scoffs, “i had the maids prepare your dress and shoes and saeko will help with your hair”

reaching into her bag, she produces a beautiful black box with gold phoenixes decorating it.

“a gift, from your betrothed” her smile is genuine this time and y/n knows it’s because she cares more about the expensive piece of jewellery.

the gold chain is thin and dainty and y/n can see the tiny center piece is the “grooms” family crest. she’s heard about these kinds of traditions and she doesn’t bother fighting when her mother insists on putting it on for her.

binding.

“how beautiful” her mother sighs but her eyes are on the center piece and once again, y/n feels like nothing more than a pawn.

she would never consider herself to be superficial, she knew real beauty was skin deep but she couldn’t help the small gasp when her walked into their large dining room.

he was so tall and pale, the moles on his face making his beautiful face stand out that much more. he didn’t smile and he didn’t seem interested in shaking hands with anyone, keeping a distance from her parents as his driver and assistant, stood nearby.

their eyes met a few times and y/n felt a cold shiver run down her back. his eyes were like two beautiful black holes, way too dangerous to keep looking or you’d surely get lost forever.

for a moment, it felt like the chain around her neck burned into her skin and she winced, looking back down at her hands in her lap.

“master wants to speak with you alone”

she looks up to see the man that had arrived with her .. fiancé.

“there’s no need to worry, i’m atsumu” atsumu smiles gently, “he’s in the garden”

she nods and follows him into the backyard. it’s the one place she can truly call her own since her parents never cared about it.

“there you are” kiyoomi says and his voice is rich and deep, causing a pleasant shiver to run down her spine. it’s different being this close to him and she’s a little surprised when he reaches for her hand and it’s cold to the touch.

“there’s no need to be so shy around me” he tells her, “we’re going to be married soon”

“… right” she says because she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say. it helped that he was charming and he smelled like fresh lotus flowers.

“you’ll have a garden, just like this” kiyoomi says, “you take care of these flowers no?”

“i do” she smiles, “it’s my garden”

“you can plant whatever you want” he grins, “you’ll have all the free time to do everything you like”

as long as you never leave.

“iI think my mother would’ve loved you” kiyoomi says as he watches her pour him his tea, “she liked gardening too”

“oh.. i’m sorry” y/n says awkwardly

“it’s alright” he says, “it’s been years since i lost my parents, it’s an old wound”

does that mean he chose to marry her on his own? she didn’t understand what was going on. she also didn’t know how he even met her father and what exactly did he do for a living.

the next week felt like a blur, with having to get more measurements done, to having an official dinner as a family. they weren’t even married yet but the news spread fast that y/n, daughter of the attorney general, was finally going to be betrothed.

everyone in the city seemed to be excited for the grand wedding. smaller cities meant that everyone knew each other and she couldn’t even go out with friends without people congratulating her and some people looked as though they felt sorry for her.

an elderly lady at the café she frequented couldn’t even look at her without becoming teary eyed.

“i’m not going to stop coming here” y/n tries to make it lighthearted, “i’ve been coming here since high school”

“oh sweetheart” the elderly lady shook her head but before she could speak further, her husband pulled her away from their table.

“what was that about?” keiji asks

“it’s an old people thing” maki rolls his eyes, “don’t pay them any mind y/n”

y/n tried to ignore the uneasy feeling she felt for the rest of the day. it felt like the lady had more to say but her husband stopped her before she could say anything.

was kiyoomi really someone that well known? she had never really seen or heard of him before and that made her even more confused because the city wasn’t that big.

everyone knew everyone.

“there you are!” her father exclaims and she resists the urge to roll her eyes at him.

“kiyoomi thinks it’s important that you two get to know each other before the wedding” her father says and she can hear, in his tone, that there’s no room for arguments.

“will he come here?” she asks and her father shakes his head.

“he’s sending atsumu to pick you up tomorrow morning” he holds her hand, “you’ll spend some time with him so pack a bag”

she widens her eyes at that. her parents had always been strict about dating so why would they be so comfortable to let her stay at a man’s house she barely knew? a man she was engaged to.

“and keep the chain on at all times” he reminds her as she stands, “it’s important to him”

what about me?

“we’re very proud of you” her father says, “you’re very important to us”

she tries not to cry because that’s the first time he’s ever said that to her. she can’t even bring herself to hate him because after all, he was her father.

she wasn’t sure what she was expecting but his house is much bigger than hers and much more .. haunting. it must’ve been around in his family for many years despite being in perfect condition.

“come, atsumu will have them put your things in your room” kiyoomi takes her hand, “let me show you around”

“is this—”

“i told you” he pulls her into the huge garden in the back, “you can plant whatever you want here”

“it’s beautiful” y/n smiles, allowing herself to feel just a little bit happier. at least she’d be away from her parents for a few days.

“it’s yours” he tells her, “or rather, it will be”

and you’ll belong to me.

when keiji comes by the next day, he’s also shocked at how big the house is but it feels empty, almost like the walls whisper to you when you’re alone.

“the old lady was at the store earlier” keiji says, “she was so worried about you”

“about me?” y/n frowns, “what did she say?”

“she was talking so fast but she mentioned something about an old village nearby and sacrifices”

“oh” y/n laughs, “maybe she’s paranoid because i haven’t stopped by lately?”

“could be” he shrugs, looking around the large room y/n was staying in. “her husband told me to just ignore her so i didn’t say much else”

“ah, i see” y/n nods

she doesn’t mention the weird dreams she’s still having because she knows it’s because she’s just been overwhelmed lately and while saeko did go back home to fetch a few things, she knew she’d be back.

y/n still felt too nervous around kiyoomi even though he was putting in a lot of effort to make her feel comfortable.

“how is he?” keiji asks after a moment, “do you get along?”

“he’s great” y/n sighs, “almost too perfect, it doesn’t feel real”

“do you want to get to know him too?” he asks and she nods. she could admit that she was just a bit curious about him.

“i.. like talking to him” y/n says, “he listens and he’s patient because it’s obvious i’m still on edge”

“when is the wedding supposed to be?” keiji asks

“a week from now” y/n laughs bitterly, “my father picked the date”

“god he’s so—”

“don’t” y/n sighs, “it’s fine, i’m still getting used to the idea, that’s all”

“it’s still unfair” keiji sighs but he knows to back off.

a knock on the door startles them both and y/n feels that chill from before when kiyoomi opens the door to lean against the frame.

“you’re still here” he says and y/n nods.

“oh, this is keiji” y/n smiles, “keiji, this is kiyoomi”

“nice to meet you” keiji says and kiyoomi nods in acknowledgement.

she notices the mood change when keiji leaves. kiyoomi is already very quiet but it feels different that she feels the need to explain.

“he’s been my best friend since high school” y/n says, “he got married last year to his husband”

kiyoomi looks taken aback before he smiles again, standing to his full height.

“shall we have dinner?” he asks and she nods, smiling awkwardly.

was he already jealous?

“you’re the one i’ve been waiting for, you can never leave me. i’ve waited long enough for you to finally come to me and now that you’re here, i can never let you go.

sleep well, darling”

she wakes up gasping, sitting straight up in bed. the room is dimly lit since she had fallen asleep while reading.

she couldn’t really see anything or anyone in the recent dreams but it felt so real, like she was being pulled into the darkness just before she’d wake up, gasping for air.

“am i losing my mind?”

the conversation with keiji comes back to her and she can’t shake the feeling that something is going to happen. did people experience this before their weddings?

is this what cold feet was?

she shook her head and snuck downstairs to get a drink. she needed to clear her mind and reading was starting to make her overthink everything.

“can’t sleep?” atsumu asks. he’s sitting outside in the garden as she steps outside and she nods, holding her warm cup of tea close to her chest.

“is kiyoomi home?” she asks, sitting on the porch beside him. the garden was her favourite part of the entire place and she found herself playing with her chain as she stared out into the night.

“he’s in his study” atsumu smiles, “he’d love it if you joined him in there”

“wouldn’t i be disturbing his work?” she asks but atsumu chuckles.

“he has a personal library” atsumu adds, “master says he’s seen you reading a lot”

“ah yeah” y/n smiles, “i think i’ll go inside”

“goodnight” atsumu bids her farewell and she smiles.

that’s right, come to me darling.

she knocks gently and he calls for her to entire. she opens the door slowly and her eyes widen at how big his study is.

he looks beautiful even in the low light. glasses suit him and his smile made her feel warm inside. she didn’t feel so uneasy when he was around.

“oh, this is a pleasant surprise” he grins, “is something wrong?”

“i just couldn’t sleep” y/n admits, closing the door behind her, “am i interrupting?”

“of course not” he shakes his head immediately, “you can sit with me whenever you want darling, would you like a book to read?”

she smiles then and walks further into the study and towards the large bookcases.

“you’re more than welcome to come in here whenever you want” kiyoomi hands her a throw blanket as she makes herself comfortable on the couch. “after all, what’s mine is yours”

he watches her closely as her eyes begin to droop and he wants nothing more than to reach out and hold her but he knows he runs cold and it would be a while before she got used to his touch.

“so beautiful, even when you sleep” he sighs, “do you know how much i’ve wanted you?”

there have been others but none as beautiful as you are. i didn’t keep them either but their fates were already decided when the village elders sent out their names.

i can still hear the song of the brides as they were each carried on their sedans, brought into the cold forest and left there.

this way, is easier. i got to choose my bride and this time, i intend to keep you.

“what are your thoughts on having children?” kiyoomi asks. they’ve spent the morning sending out their wedding invitations and y/n would be going home until the wedding day.

“oh” y/n shrugs awkwardly, “i’ve never really thought about it and i’m not sure if i want to have any”

“i see” he smiles, “then we won’t have any if you don’t want to”

i would never have to share you with anyone ever again. you’ll only be with me.

y/n smiles up at him as he stands to get ready for work. he kisses the top of head, something he’s doing since the first morning they had breakfast together and she finds that she doesn’t mind.

she isn’t sure she wants to go back home but she knows she has to because it’s not appropriate for them to be so domestic before their actual wedding day.

“wait for me tonight and i’ll take you home” he says, “you can spend the day in the garden if you like or the study”

“thank you” she finds herself saying and he grins down at her.

“there’s no need to thank me” he cups her face gently, “i’m just happy to see you smiling”

she ignores the way that makes her feel, the butterflies in her stomach feel like a a tornado and she hates how disappointed she feels when he lets go and walks towards his study to get his work files.

you see it too, don’t you my love? you can’t be without me either.

“you don’t seem happy to be home” saeko grins, “do you miss the garden or kiyoomi?”

“oh, he’s no longer master?” y/n asks and saeko flicks her forehead.

“don’t try and change the subject” saeko says dryly, “do you miss him already?”

“.. maybe” she shrugs, reaching up to play with her chain, “it’s silly, i barely know him”

“does that matter?” saeko asks, “i haven’t seen you that happy and comfortable when you’re here”

y/n couldn’t argue with that. she felt free when she was with kiyoomi because he didn’t suffocate her and he was happy to just be in her presence without expecting anything in return.

“you’ll be with him forever after the wedding” saeko grins, “maybe you’ll have a child”

“he seems content to just have me” y/n looks down, suddenly feeling shy, “he said we don’t have to have any if i don’t want to”

“bare minimum but he’s a keeper” saeko says, “i’m excited for you now that you seem happier about the wedding and everything”

“i think he’ll make me happy” y/n smiles, “and i won’t have to see my parents as often”

good girl, you’ll only ever need me.

the room was cold, very cold and when she reached out to turn the lights on, it wouldn’t work. she could hear the faint sounds of a piano playing and the low humming of a man, a man that sounded so similar to kiyoomi that she couldn’t help but call out to him.

“kiyoomi?” she croaks out, her throat sore and scratchy. she couldn’t really recognise her surroundings but the scene before her caused her to scream and fall backwards.

there were people dressed in black, crying softly as the picture of kiyoomi sat in the middle of the room.

it was a funeral.

his funeral.

her screams are so loud that it wakes saeko up in the other room. she had stayed upstairs with y/n instead of heading into the servants quarters where the parents expected her to stay.

“y/n, wake up it’s just a dream” saeko gently shakes her shoulders, turning the bedside lamp on, “hey, it’s okay, you’re okay”

y/n can’t really think straight, still struggling to catch her breath as she wraps her arms tightly around saeko. she knows she shaking but she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to match her breathing with saeko’s.

“what was that?” saeko whispers, “you’ve never had nightmares before”

“i.. i don’t know” y/n chokes out, “it was just so cold”

“do you .. want to talk about it?” saeko asks gently, patting her head to help her relax.

“it was his funeral” y/n says softly, “like i could hear him humming softly but when i got closer to his study, the room changed and .. it was his funeral”

“it’s alright” saeko holds her tighter, “it was just a dream, he’s alright and so are you”

it just felt so real that y/n didn’t fall asleep again when saeko left. she said she’d be okay but she couldn’t get the image out her head no matter what she tried to do.

you see why you can’t leave me?

she doesn’t know why she tweets about it but everyone seems to think it’s normal and the amount of people praising sakusa makes her feel better. it was clear people knew who he was and he was obviously well liked.

it wasn’t like she was worried about any of that, she just didn’t like the dreams.

her phone ringing caused her to almost drop it.

“hello?” she says softly. she didn’t want to be too loud since it was way too early in the morning.

“darling, why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”

“i.. i wasn’t sure how to talk about it” she sighs, “it’s never happened before so i must really be nervous. i didn’t want anyone to worry”

“i’d worry about you anyway”

“could you maybe.. come see me later?” she asks, “i know the wedding is in 2 days but i want—”

“of course” he says, “i’ll be there in an hour”

“isn’t it too early? you have to work” she frowns, glancing at her bedside clock, it read 5:56 am.

“i’m never too busy for you, wait for me”

“okay” she smiles, already feeling better.

when she opens the door to find him standing there, her body moves before she can think about it and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down to hold him close.

“oh..” he grins, pulling her flush against him, “this is a lovely surprise”

“i just missed you” she mumbles but he still hears it loud and clear and he smiles, kissing the side of her head.

“i missed you too” he whispers, “do you want me to lay down with you?”

she nods. it was far too early to be awake and her parents would soon be getting up for their day and she didn’t want to see them right now.

closing the door quietly, she takes his hand and leads him up to her bedroom. the lamp is still on since the curtains are closed and the room feels cozy now that he’s with her.

he doesn’t wait for her to move closer, wrapping an arm around her, he pulls her against his chest.

“you could’ve slept like this with me at home” he chuckles, closing his eyes as he listens to her breathing.

“we only just met” she frowns, “i felt like this was overstepping but my dream really scared me”

“what happened?” he asks

“you were dead” she whispers, holding onto the back of his sweater tightly, “it was your funeral and there were people crying and everything felt so cold and scary that it was almost suffocating”

“look at me” he says and moves her back just a little. he cups the side of her face and forces her to look at him.

“kiyo—”

“i’m not going anywhere” he tells her, “it feels like i’ve waited lifetimes just to be with you”

she sniffs as wipes her eyes.

“i won’t ever leave your side” he promises, “you’ll never have to worry about anything or anyone ever again”

she nods and leans closer to him. she knows it’s wrong but she can’t help wanting to be closer and when he leans down to close the gap between them, she gasps into the kiss. his lips are soft and while his body runs cold, his kisses are so warm that she sighs and wraps her arms around him again.

“you won’t leave me, right?” he asks and she nods

“good girl” he smiles, kissing her again.

i have you now. you’ll always be mine, y/n.

she falls asleep to the sound of him humming softly. it’s comforting and she finds herself having the best sleep she’s had in months.

the morning of the wedding, she sat still as her mother fixed her hair. it was the only time she ever had her mother make such a fuss over her. she was grateful for saeko and kaori, it helped her not cry.

she didn’t want to ruin her makeup.

you’re just so beautiful, why wouldn’t i want to keep you forever? you’re the perfect sacrifice. i suppose i could grant this town a few blessings.

unless you told me not to. i would do anything for you.

kiyoomi could hardly keep his eyes off her as she stood in front of him. he could hardly focus on the bows or anything else as he watched her face through the pretty red veil.

she never needed makeup but her eyes were so much more prominent with the dark eyeliner. he could only think about finally making her his.

“beautiful” he whispers and he can see the way she smiles shyly. a smile only for him.

he could see her friends glancing at each other, trying to be discreet with their texting but there was nothing they could do now. he smirks as he makes eye contact with satori.

he must’ve always had his suspicions but after all, stories are just stories aren’t they?

saeko would do whatever she could to mark sure y/n was happy or he would just have to get rid of her.

no one would dare come between them or he would wipe the whole town out.

the bed was covered in a deep shade of red, matching her wedding dress. she sat patiently with her hands in her lap as she waited for him to join her.

she kept her veil down, knowing he had to remove it for her.

she was nervous but she knew she wanted to be with kiyoomi and it was clear he definitely wanted her just as much.

“lie down for me darling” he whispers, kissing her jaw as he slips the rest of his clothing off. she laid bare before him and he smirked, trailing his fingers up her thigh, stopping at her neck to squeeze gently.

“kiyoomi” she whispers, “please”

“i know” he tells her, “i just want to look at you”

i will never look at anyone the way i look at you.

he wanted to tell her everything, how he had seen her at that café she frequented. how he had set everything in motion for her greedy father and how it was just to easy to have them offer her up on a silver platter, all for him.

she gaps, grabbing onto his bicep as he slowly pushes into her. it hurt but she found herself moaning louder, wrapping her legs around his waist. she wanted all of him.

mine.. all mine..

he never cared for any of their offerings. he was almost 700 years old now and while he doesn’t remember much about the previous offerings, he knows he never cared as much as he does now.

you were so perfect and exactly what he wanted. before you, he had plans to get rid of the town that had conjured him up all those years ago for their own selfish desires.

“more omi, please” she begs, eyes tearing up when you feel him press deeper into you, his body so close that it almost felt like you were burning up.

he could give you that and so much more. he would give you everything you asked for.

“fuck, you feel so soft and warm” he whispers, gripping the back of your thigh and lifting it towards your chest.

like this he was even deeper, fucking you into the bed. your new bed that you’d spend your forever in.

“so good” she can’t help but cry out for him.

she’s never felt anything this intense before, he own fingers were nothing compared to the way he fucked her.

he knew exactly where to touch and where to kiss.

“tell me baby, who do you belong to?” he asks, gripping her jaw to force her to keep eye contact.

“you” she moans, “i’m all yours”

he believed her words to be true because he felt the way her pussy clenched tightly around his cock. a virgin, he grins down when he sees the tiny droplets of blood. it only made him harder, closing his eyes to keep his composure.

you have no idea.

#[ 🪼 ] xfg writes #haikyuu smut #sakusa x you #hq sakusa #haikyu smut #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #msby sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi smut

[sister-lucifer]

When It Rains

Tim Wright/Masky x Gender Neutral Reader 

READ THE FIRST PART HERE 

READ PART THREE HERE

Genre: Fluff, a bit angsty but has a happy ending, not explicitly romantic

Summary: It’s been raining all day, and the gloomy weather has you thinking about what could’ve been, and especially what never will be.

Content/Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol, brief mention of death/suicide, it’s a little sad, I guess? But that’s it. Reader just speculates on how life would’ve been if the Operator hadn’t fucked them over and gets down about it, but theres a happy ending. 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

It’s raining again. Not that that’s new. Springtime out here sees its fair share of storms. Normally you’d observe the rain from inside, but today something inside was gnawing at you for some fresh air. 

The old rocking chair creaks beneath your weight, moving to and fro softly as you watch the rain. It comes down in sheets off the sides of the cover, splattering to the muddy ground and making a shallow moat around the patio. It lands loudly on the old tin roof, rattling and groaning in a manner that is far too dramatic. It obscures anything beyond the perimeter of the cabin and hides everything in a misty haze. 

It’s going to be foggy tomorrow, you think. It usually is when it rains like this. It’ll be cold for the next few days, too, and the ground will be soggy for weeks. Miserable weather, that is. Not that that’s new. 

It’s a good day to wonder, that’s all. You’ve been doing plenty of that lately. A bit too much, maybe, but there’s no helping that. 

You’ve been living out here with Tim for…shit. How long has it been? Almost a year, you think, but your perception of time is unreliable at best. It’s just one of the many things you lost when your world turned upside down.

That’s what it’s really about. The loss. Tim doesn’t like to talk about it, but you know you both feel it, him even more so than you. He was going to go to college, get a degree, and he’d be damn good at it, too. He was going to find a place of his own, maybe adopt a dog, a big old Saint Bernard like he had when he was a boy, the only type of housemate that wouldn’t annoy him. That’s what he’s told you, anyways. Not sober, of course, not even close; he’d never tell you anything that personal without at least a bit of alcohol in his system. He’s been drinking less since you showed up, though. You noticed he was cutting back a couple months after you moved in. You wonder if you’ll ever get him to open up like that again.

But those were Tim’s plans. He was already in his mid twenties when things really went south, you were barely out of high school when everything started. You didn’t really have plans. So…what are you mourning, exactly? 

You don’t really have an answer to that. 

You didn’t really have a set path for yourself. Your plan barely existed, and it’s feeble skeleton was little more than an intention to simply float around until something caught your eye. You’d find your way eventually, there was no need to worry. At least, that’s what you used to think. 

Now where do you go?

You didn’t have any real plans, no, and you can’t mourn something that never existed, but it there’s this heavy feeling that comes with knowing you’ll never be able to choose. 

That’s what it comes down to, you realize. Choice. 

No, you didn’t have any plans, but that was because you had all the options you could ever want. Now, you don’t have any plans because you’ve only got one. 

Tim does everything he can to keep you entertained out here. Hell, he risks his life every time he walks down the path to his truck to go to town for you, or when he just steps off the porch to refill the bird feeder he knows you love to watch. Nothing outside of these walls in these woods is safe. If it weren’t raining so hard, he’d tear you a new one for even sitting on the porch. 

It’s a miserable existence, but it’s so nice to have someone to be miserable with, even if he can’t change anything. 

You just wish that was enough to push away that yearning for more, that subtle thrumming ache that only wells up in your stomach late at night, that want that urges you to just take the truck and leave, to forget this cabin and Tim and everything in these godforsaken woods. 

But you can’t. 

You’d die. And even if you didn’t, the guilt of stranding Tim would eat you alive, especially knowing he’d kill himself before letting that thing get him. 

You don’t want to think about that. You push the thoughts away before they can take root in your mind. It’s better to just not consider that possibility at all. 

You jump when you hear the front door open. You look back to see Tim standing there, one hand buried in his pocket and the other still on the door handle. 

“The hell are you doin’ out here?” He huffs, “I been yellin’ for ya, thought you up and ran off.” 

You give him a weak smile, but you can’t keep it up for very long. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin on them, curling up as if trying to make yourself look as small as possible. You mumble an apology, but don’t look at him. 

He pauses, then, and you can imagining his expression changing to confusion and then concern before he covers it up again. His footsteps come up behind you, the wooden porch creaking beneath him. His hand grabs the back of the rocking chair and forces it to still before he pulls it backward to get a look at you.

“…What’s up with you, kid?” 

You shrug. It’s an easier response than an explanation, but it doesn’t satisfy him at all. 

“C’mon, we both know that’s bullshit,” He says with a dry chuckle, and he’s entirely correct. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sigh, thinking for a moment about your answer. 

“…It’s just…I dunno. Do you ever, like…think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…you know…”

It’s a stammering, stumbling attempt at explaining yourself, but he understands. He nods, crossing his arms and leaning back against the house. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” He replies, scratching at his stubble, “But if I’m bein’ honest, it ain’t gonna do you any good. That sorta thing only gets ya down.”

He’s right about that, too. If only it were that easy to just stop. It’s just so hard not to wonder at least every once in a while, it’s human nature. You just wish you knew when to stop. You just wish you were able to ignore the ‘what if’s that piled up in the back of your mind until they couldn’t stand anymore and toppled over into a pathetic mess of rubble. They’ll crush you one day if you aren’t careful, but such an idea seems almost inevitable. 

“Do you think—“ You start, but stop short before you can get any further. Tim quirks a brow, and you don’t have to look at him to know he’s making that skeptical face. 

“…Do I think what?” He asks. 

You hesitate to answer. Is this really a question you want to ask? If this starts an argument you won’t be able to take back, will it ruin the comfort you and Tim have finally managed to establish with each other? You can’t just not tell him now, though, or you’ll just piss him off more. He doesn’t care for secrets, but he can’t stand when someone wusses out of a conversation at the last second. 

“…Do you think if you had the chance you would…like, go back in time? If you could make it to where none of this ever happened, would you?”

You feel stupid asking that, and it doesn’t help that Tim is silent for far too long before he answers. You’re already regretting this. 

Tim finally opens his mouth, and he stammers for a few moments before his sounds turn into words.

“…I don’t really think I can answer that, kid. That’s a tough one.” 

He sounds monotone, almost uncaring, but you can tell he’s doing it on purpose

to conceal whatever he doesn’t want you to know he’s feeling. You finally turn to look at him with a look that says ‘Can you please try?’ 

His eyes widen for a moment, his shoulders tensing in that subtle way they only do when he’s scared. His lips part slowly, and it sounds like he’s forcing his next words out. 

“I don’t know. Maybe? I…”

He trails off, and you turn away again. Then there’s silence for another few moments. 

Then he’s beside your chair, slowly lowering himself to sit down and doing that annoyed groan he does anytime he has to strain his back. He takes a moment to get comfortable, and you see him reach for his pocket to grab a cigarette only to sigh in disappointment when he realizes he left them inside. You feel bad for smiling, but at least he won’t be able to hide behind his smoke the way he likes to when a conversation makes him uncomfortable. 

He accepts his fate, leaning back on his hands and staring out into the rain with you. 

“I might,” He finally says, “But it wouldn’t be an easy choice.” 

“Why not?” You ask, and for some reason he chuckles at that. 

“Good question. This isn’t how I expected things to end up, no one does, but…I couldn’t just up and leave this.” 

‘This’ he says. ‘This?’ That hardly answers your question. You quirk a brow at him, and he begrudgingly continues. 

“You know, I just…I’ve gotten attached to all this—“ 

“What’s this, exactly?” You interrupt, and he winces like he was hoping you wouldn’t ask that. “I can’t imagine there being anything here worth sticking around for.”

“…There wasn’t. Not for a long time,” He says, and now it’s your turn to pause. 

“…What did you say?” 

“There wasn’t,” He repeats, “Not until…not when I was alone. But now…” 

‘You,’ you realize that’s what he’s trying to say, ‘You are the only thing worth staying for.’ 

For some reason, that hurts. Maybe you feel guilty that you ever thought about leaving him, or maybe you feel bad that you of all people are his only friend. The bar for happiness is really low around here. 

You slowly unfurl from your spot on the chair, letting your feet rest on the porch as you slump down a bit. 

“So…you’re saying you wouldn’t?”

You expected an immediate answer. Stupid of you, really. He’s hesitating again. You’d thought you’d get a quick yes or no. You’re not sure if this is better or worse. 

“I’m not…saying anything,” Tim assures you, “I’m just saying that…I’d at least have to think about it.” 

“Yeah, but you have to make a choice,” You say with an eye roll, and the words coming out more forceful than you intended. Fortunately, his stoney exterior deflects any vitriol you could spew at him. 

The silence that settles over you this time is heavy. It makes you slump even further down in your chair. You hate the silence that always follows when you say something that turned out far too mean. 

You don’t breathe until Tim speaks again.

“Okay, yeah…I would.” 

You don’t know how you feel about that answer, but you don’t have much time to think before he continues. 

“But only because I’d know where to find you this time.” 

That surprises you. You sit back up in your chair, looking down at him with an unmistakably confused look. 

“Huh?” You blurt out, and your cheeks warm a bit when he chuckles at your noise of bewilderment.

“I’d do it, yeah, but I couldn’t just leave you to fend for yourself,” He explains, “I’d do it, but I wouldn’t abandon you. Now I know who you are, what you liked to do, where you’d hang out, all those things from before shit hit the fan. I just don’t want you to think I’d, ya know…forget about you like that. I’d come find you, that’s all. I think we’d find each other anyways, though.”

Something in your chest aches as he speaks, and it makes you want to curl up again, but you can’t move. You stare at him for a long few moments, and you’re lucky he doesn’t look up at you because you wouldn’t be able to pull your eyes away. You can’t even blink. 

“I told you kid,” He adds, “I care about you. I always have.”

What do you say to that? 

You don’t know, so you stay silent. You want to say something, to return the monument of emotion he’s just offered to you, to somehow express reciprocity, but you don’t know how. You’re silent. 

You don’t move as Tim stands back up, cracking his back and stretching his legs. He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. 

“I gotta go start dinner,” He says curtly, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. Don’t spend too long out here. If you get sick, Imma say I told you so.” 

You nod, but give no further response. He pulls his hand away, and you think that’s the end of it, but just as you realize you haven’t heard him go to leave you feel him leaning over you. 

You tense. You’re not sure why, but you do. 

You feel him press a brief kiss to the top of your head before he pulls away again. It wasn’t even a kiss, really, he just pushed his lips against your head for a moment, but for that moment it was like everything you’d ever worried about up until that point was arbitrary. It doesn’t last long, but it lingers in the air like the smoke from Tim’s cigarettes as he pulls away and walks back into the house. 

You’re alone again.

Now what? 

You weigh your options for a moment, but once Tim’s footsteps disappear into the house it feels far too quiet out here, even with the rain beating down on the roof above you. 

You wait for only a few moments more to make sure you won’t seem too eager to follow him before you get up, lazily making your way back inside. 

You find yourself wondering again, this time about what Tim is making for dinner tonight, and you take a second to appreciate the pleasure in such simple problems. 

There are things that will never be now, and there’s no changing that.

But for tonight, this is pretty damn nice. 

#gender neutral reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #marble hornets #marble hornets x reader #creepypasta fluff #creepypasta angst #marble hornets fluff #marble hornets angst #fluff #angst #tim wright #masky #tim wright x reader #masky x reader

[after-witch]

Behind the Curtain [Ren Hana x Reader]

Title: Behind the Curtain [Ren Hana x Reader]

Synopsis: No more shows, yes, that’s what he says. He does not tell you “no more pain,” because there will be pain. Some musings from Ren Hana after the The Show Must Go On DLC (survival ending).

Word Count: 1600ish

notes: kidnapped reader, medical including eye prosthetics discussion, descriptions of past violent abuse and injuries including eye injuries

You poor, pretty thing, lying there in a hospital bed, tubes in your arms and an incessantly beeping machine monitoring your vitals at your side.

You look a mess.

You look lovely.

The wounds from your lively (and, he must admit, very well received--well, until the end) triple show debut are vibrant and gorgeously ugly.

Vivid stitches covered in ghastly looking iodine on your stomach, where you’d sliced your belly right open; antibiotic creams slathered over your puncture wounds; an etching of various cuts and bite marks… yours and his. Not to mention your eye.

You’ll live, you dear thing. Scarred and bruised, inside and out--but you’ll live.

He’s not an amateur. You’ll have good medical care here. He can afford it, although it’s not often used for more than employee check-ups and keeping merchandise alive long enough to be sold or entertain his streams before the big finale. Or for the occasional creative request via a high-paying donor on a stream.

But for you? He’ll make sure to use every resource to get you back into shape. Back to where you were--or more accurately, he supposes, back to where you’re going to be from now on. 

You wake up every now and then. Not to the fullest degree. You are pumped full of drugs, though, and he’s not terribly surprised at your lack of coherency. It’s cute, in a way, though he’s looking forward to enjoying you when you’re more alert. More alive. 

How alive did you feel, in those last moments before he stopped the stream? How aware were you that he meant to kill you? That you were going to die in that dark room while people paid to watch and stroked their cocks and salivated over watching the last bit of light leave your eyes? 

He couldn’t do it. No, no, that’s not right. He could have done it. He’s done it before, to others more and less worthy than yourself.

But he didn’t want to do it and therefore, he didn’t have to do it. You reminded him of that. Chat had power, sure, everyone with enough money had power. But he was in control. It was his stream. His life’s work. And you were his property, not theirs. 

Did you know that one question would change everything?

Fuck the people watching the stream. They could have someone else, and they would eventually--logistically, he needed to make it up to them soon, a token apology made in some other poor pretty thing’s blood.

But not you.

Never you. 

He smiles, just a little. It’s easier now to think about the future, in the sterile clinic room, away from the rush of the showroom with its screens, the stampede of feet when he pushed the call button, the tangy smell of your blood and the sight of you mangled and delirious beneath him. 

The rush of the moment has passed, leaving behind a slow, thoughtful ebb in its wake. 

You’re not the first merchandise he’s kept for himself. You’re not even the first person he’s taken a liking to and taken home with the intent to keep forever. And oh, that first one… he hasn’t thought about them in a while, the one that he kept for as long as he could, until they were gone.

You remind him of them, in some ways. Maybe in the way your voice softened when you asked him who gave him his scars; maybe in the pitiful way you begged him, sweet and sniffling, to cut out your eye because you knew it was best.

Maybe in the way you clenched around him, desperate, eager, hating the pain but embracing it because there was nothing else you could do. 

But, ah… he’s being nostalgic again. He lets one claw idly trace your forearm, following the line of the IV. That person is gone. Dead. Tragic and all that, and some part of him will always miss them. But there’s no point in dwelling on it, just as he’s long since moved on from Strade and his amateur basement of horrors. 

Years ago, he might have thought: what would Strade think of me now? But now he knows the truth: it doesn’t matter one single bit what Strade would think of him now, or what Strade might have thought of him then. Strade was nothing. 

He had created his own world, far surpassing anything Strade could have dreamed of; Strade had some talent (he has scars to prove it) but what was talent without ambition? Without creativity, allure?

Anyone could get people to pay money to watch you kill some helpless fuck you snatched off the street.

But it took talent to do what he did, something far beyond basement videos with basic tools and a fabric mask. 

It was a talent he had in spades, carefully crafted through trial and error. Lots of errors. But what business, what world, existed without them? 

But you do make him reminisce, don’t you?

And then your hand is on his arm. Weak, fingers trembling as you try to grip him, and gain his notice.

This time, your eye isn’t quite as muddled, and you direct your gaze at him rather than flitting about the room in hazy confusion.

He watches as your throat works, swallowing, and he can practically hear the inside of your dry mouth sticking as you force open your lips.

“Is it… is it time for another show?”

He blinks down at you, his lips set in a frown. 

Your dry lips tremble when he doesn’t answer. The heart rate monitor speeds up, and he glances at it--faster and faster, like a little rabbit--before resting his hand on your forehead. The beeping slows down just a little, and your eye looks up at him, darting across his face, desperate and terrified.

“No,” he says, with a somber finality, and the words are for himself as much as they are for you. “No more shows.” 

Your smile is twitchy and slow, and your eye blinks low and lidded. The drugs want to put you to sleep. You want to stay awake. You’ll lose this battle, but he likes to see that you still have the will to live in you. It will come in handy. 

A clawed finger traces your cheek, edging around the white medical patch covering your missing eye. He can see your head try to flinch, but you’re either too drugged to fully do it or you’re stopping yourself out of worry that he won’t like it.

Either option pleases him. 

Your eye isn’t as bad as it was, but it will need more healing before you can wear a prosthetic, or so the physician said. 

He’d never looked much into them before--prosthetic eyes, that is--but as he discovered during a late night bout of phone shopping, there’s a wide array of options nowadays. Exotic styles--cats and snakes and everything in between--and fun colors and pretty add-ons, like glitter or shimmer or rainbow holographics. 

The thought of your false eye staring up at him in some impossibly beautiful hue, accenting a lovely outfit he’s dressed you in, makes him a little giddy, and he hopes you’ll be excited about them, too. Maybe in time you’ll be gazing at a selection of eyes laid out on a vanity, choosing between them like you might have done before all this with lipsticks and eyeshadows. 

Will you hold up the eye you chose for his approval, a trembling smile on your face? It would be nice to see. 

Though he’s not stupid--not as naive as he might have been, if he’d met you twenty or so years ago. You’re not going to immediately jump for joy that the man who orchestrated your kidnapping, tortured you, jacked off into your eye, pulled out said eye, and almost had you yank out your own guts got you a pretty prosthetic.

No, no… not immediately, anyway. That will take time and work and training. Thankfully, he has plenty of experience with that. 

He smiles, just a little, watching as your remaining eye fights so hard to stay open; battling against the drugs keeping you sleepy and compliant for the first step in your healing.

You’re mumbling something, and he’s not really listening to the words, until he sees tears in your eye and you repeat yourself. The words come slowly. He’ll remind the nurse to wet your mouth soon.

“You pr…promise?”

He leans forward, cupping your chin, encouraging you to keep going.

Your voice is a whimper and it’s just so damned cute. Your remaining eye is wide and those pretty tears stick to the lashes like dew. He could kiss them off, he truly could, if he wasn’t sure getting anywhere near your remaining eye right now might send you into a panic.

“You promise no… no more shows?” 

“No more shows,” he says again, gentler this time, stroking your hair. The tension in your muscles gradually relaxes from his touch, or perhaps the IV drip has given you a fresh dose of painkillers on schedule. It doesn’t matter. The effect is the same. 

No more shows, yes, that’s what he tells you. 

He does not tell you “no more pain,” because there will be pain. Life does not exist without it. His business does not exist without it. He does not exist without it. 

There is always give and take, push and pull, pain and pleasure. None can exist without the other. 

It’s a truth you’ll come to learn, as he did. And he can’t wait to bring you to that truth himself. 

#the price of flesh #ren hana #tpof spoilers #the price of flesh spoilers #afterwitch writes #I wanna write smut with him but first!! the introspection

[blippymilk]

Dirt Bike Racer Fem! Reader x Brozone (+ Poppy)

(TYSM for all the love, request, and followers guys!! The little comments y’all be putting on your request and under my post make me wanna tear up a lil bit 🤧)

John Dory:

- Finds it incredibly hot that you’re a (famous) dirt bike racer

- Didn’t know you were a female at first until you took off your helmet and revealed your (GORGEOUS) self

- Never thought he had a chance with you tbh :(

- But then realizes HE’S JOHN DORY, THE LEADER, J.D and gets the courage to ask you out (however that story ends up is up to you)

- When you guys finally end up together his heart is content

- Although sometimes he feels that he has to go beyond his expectations because his girlfriend is literally a dirt bike racer!

- So yes his ego is hurt a little bit (but he’ll never stop loving you so don’t even worry)

- He would love to take your motorcycle for a ride all day

- And if he doesn’t know how to ride one yet (which I doubt) he will (put his ego aside and) ask for lessons (don’t tell anyone though)

- Definitely getting matching cycles

Spruce:

- Kinda thinks you’re a walking hazard/danger sign at first

- But Bruce believes the heart wants what the heart wants and it wanted you

- Has to get used to the loud noises your motorcycle makes when you take off anywhere, but eventually gets over it

- Loves riding on the motercycle with you after a couple months

- Has you under a oath to never speak about the time he tried to take it for a ride by himself with zero experience (🫢)

- Makes sure the keys (or anything that the lock can be picked with) for the motorcycle are always out of reach if you decide to have kids

- Doesn’t mind you taking the kids for a ride (but they have to be 10 or older 😢)

- Definitely wears a shirt that says ‘My wife is a famous dirt bike racer, how about you?’

Clay:

- You definitely bring out the fun in him (and he hates that at first)

- You met him during his serious boy Clay get up so at first he didn’t take you too seriosuly

- But when he learns it’s ok to loosen up, he found himself falling for you (he been loved you, he’s just embracing it now)

- Wants to be on your motorcycle more than you do

- Definitely already knew how to ride one (he was fun boy Clay soooo)

- Teach him all the crazy tricks in the book, he’ll end up mastering them all

- Please convince this man to wear a helmet cause if you don’t , he’s not even touching one

- Screaming all types of things while on the bike

“I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND!”

Floyd:

- It’s a little weird with Floyd

- Like he loves and supports the fact that you’re a dirt bike racer but he doesn’t think about it too much (at least for the first part of the relationship)

- Secretly terrified of the roaring of your engine behind his calm smile

- You didn’t realize he was either until one day he walked into your garage and you started it up, causing him to completely fall onto his back

“Oh my gosh Floyd are you ok?

“Yea bab- yeah I’m fine…”

- Unlike the other boys, you have to convince him to ride on your bike

- Sit him in front of you so he’s convinced you won’t leave him behind :(

-Eventually he learns to enjoy it to some degree (still prefers the car tho if you know what I mean)

- Attends every event you have with the biggest “____’s #1 FAN!” sign anyone there can bring, and please don’t let him find out if someone is trying to show him up 😭

Branch:

- Ok let’s be honest if you met him during his first Trolls movie phase, he would actually despise you (at least at first)😭

- The nerve he’d think you’d have to turn on your loud engine while the village could possibly be hunted down by bergens

- After the first movie events and knowing everyone’s fine and well, he starts to show some interest

- You may or may not catch him at one or two or all of your events

- He can’t decide if he wants to ride your bike or not

- Like you’ll offer to take him for a ride and every time he’s just like:

“Well- like…um- ye- well actually, wait no, actually…maybe- well…”

- It’s to the point where if you want him to go with you, you’re gonna need to snatch him on and put the helmet on his head

- Since he’s one of the few trolls that knows about the internet, he made a fan account for you where he uploads all your clips, and makes sweet commentary and deletes all hate comments and possibly comments “____ is better” on fan accounts for any opposing riders

Poppy:

- You might have to run away from this girl at first

- Begs to ride your bike before you’re even together

- And when she is with you like Bruce she feels the need to take it upon herself to try and ride the bike

- Let’s just say she enjoyed your physical attention and the way you kissed her “boo-boo’s” afterwards

- So by the time she heals you’ve learned to take Poppy for frequent rides

- Has no shame in asking for lessons at all

- Definitely asks you to take, her, and Viva for a joyride

- Let’s the whole pop village know that her girlfriend is a famous dirt bike rider (as if they don’t already know 💀)

“Oh you’re boyfriend’s a baker? That’s crazy cause my girlfriends a dirt bike racer!”

“No way she’s a CEO? Mine ride’s a dirt bike, and she’s well know!”

“You’re girlfriends a top secret spy for the biggest agents in the world? That’s insane, my girlfriend rides a dirt bike!”

#trolls #trolls band together #request #brozone x reader #brozone #john dory #john dory x reader #bruce trolls #bruce x reader #clay x reader trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #floyd x reader #branch trolls #branch x reader #poppy trolls #poppy x reader #trolls headcanons #trolls 3 #trolls x reader #trolls 3 x reader

[ninety-two-bees]

happy birthday, james potter

jegulus microfic | 861 words | age gap + parenting au

═══════☆═══════

Regulus has never baked a cake before, and he’s not sure why he believed today would be the perfect day to learn. There are already a handful of failed attempts scattered across James’ kitchen. Some of them are…edible, but none of them are perfect. James deserves perfect on his birthday.

Technically Regulus isn’t supposed to be here at all. He’s supposed to be in class while James is at the museum with Harry, but taking one day off to treat his boyfriend on his birthday can’t do any harm, right? The countertops are almost entirely hidden by spilled ingredients and empty packages, but he finds space and perches on the counter with a mixing bowl in his arms.

The last batter was too thick, and this one seems suspiciously too runny, but he has no idea how to fix it. He even went as far as to call Barty and Evan, then Remus and Sirius—all of whom were entirely unhelpful. And now James’ kitchen is a mess.

Before he has a chance to put the next batch of cake mix in the oven, or even think about cleaning up, he hears the front door open and freezes in place. James is home.

Harry makes it to the kitchen first, walking right up to where Regulus is sitting and staring up with that wide bug-eyed stare Regulus has gotten so used to in the past year.

“Hi, buddy. Where’s your dad?” he asks, climbing off the countertop and swapping the mixing bowl out to pick Harry up instead. When Harry points over Regulus’ shoulder, he freezes up all over again.

“Please don’t be mad,” he begs softly, not daring to turn around to face James. His boyfriend has never been angry with him before, but there’s a first time for everything, right? And knowing Regulus’ luck, he has probably ruined James’ entire birthday.

James doesn’t say anything, but only a moment passes before Regulus feels familiar arms around his waist and a comforting chest against his back. He leans into James’ embrace instantly, struggling to fight off a smile as Harry wraps his arms around him too. This is his favourite place to be—in the arms of his family.

“Why would I be mad, baby?” James mumbles, pressing a kiss to the top of Regulus’ head. “You made cake!”

“I made a mess,” Regulus points out with a soft laugh.

One of the agreements within their relationship is that Regulus isn’t allowed to spend money on James until he finishes his degree and goes back to working full-time. It’s done wonders for the health of the bond between them, but Regulus still wanted to offer James something as a gift.

“Harry has made worse messes with much less time. We can clean it up together,” James insists. He lets go of Regulus as Regulus lowers Harry to the ground, and the two of them—three, if he counts Harry “helping”—make quick work of the baking disaster.

═══════☆═══════

Hours pass, all of which Regulus spends no more than a few feet away from James. They decorate the house together for his birthday, drop Harry off with his grandparents for the night, and kill the last bit of time before the party breaking in James’ new mattress.

“You really are getting old, you know.” Regulus has taken to straddling James’ lap on the living room couch despite the dozens of party guests around them. No matter how popular James is, Regulus knows he will always be at the centre of his boyfriend’s world. It’s as if the rest of the party doesn’t exist.

“I’m still a couple of years off forty! I’ve still got some youth left in me,” James argues. “And in fifteen years, when you’re this age, you’ll be saying the exact same thing.”

With laughter spilling from his lips, Regulus drops his head onto James’ chest, allowing James to wrap his arms around him in a warm embrace. If anyone is judging them for the blatant PDA, they don’t say anything

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you anything for your birthday,” he mumbles against James’ neck, eyes fluttering shut as James’ fingers trail up and down the length of his spine.

They had to throw out all of the cakes Regulus attempted to make, and ended up buying one at the nearest supermarket instead. James had insisted that it’s the thought that counts, but Regulus still wishes he had done more.

“There is…one thing you could give me, but it’s entirely up to you.” Regulus lifts his head again, gazing at James with intense curiosity. “Move in with me.”

A moment passes between them, and Regulus is certain his heart beats twice as fast as it ever has before.

“You really mean it?” he whispers, voice laced with trembling disbelief.

“I really mean it,” James promises.

Another moment passes. And then; “Absolutely. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

One of James’ hands comes up to hold the back of Regulus’ head, and then they’re kissing. It must look as intense as it feels, because someone whistles and a few people laugh just before they pull apart, breathless.

“Happy birthday, Jamie.”

this microfic is based on james and regulus in be good to me (i beg of him) because i missed them <3

#happy birthday james potter #i hope you are having the best day ever #fic: be good to me (i beg of him) #i miss bgtm :( #i do plan to bring it back though dw #marauders #marauders fic #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus microfic #kit's microfics

[reidsbookclub]

Yours Truly Spencer Reid x fem! reader WC: 2555  fluff pure fluff tw: mentions of Gideon's death

AN: ending is a bit rushed but when I copy & pasted here I accidentally deleted it and couldn’t recall everything I wrote 😩

It’s been three months living with the knowledge that Gideon is no longer there. His conversation with Rossi was haunting him in the middle of the night. “I know I’m not being very rational,” he had told Rossi, “but I think about him all the time. And I knew he was always out there, now it just feels empty.” Rossi’s words still echoed in his mind. “Maybe you’ll find something else to fill the empty space.” He couldn’t even begin to imagine finding anything that would fill the void of now knowing that his mentor would no longer be just a call away. He needed to find a way to feel close to him, so he put pen to paper and did what he knew best: he started writing Gideon letters with the intent of them being addressed to fire. He put pen to paper and tried to connect it to the cloudy thoughts of his brain. After a couple of hours he fell asleep with the warmth of the fireplace enclosing him in a hug. 

Not even in his wildest dreams did he ever thing that letter would get read and replied to. 

It had been three months since her godfather Jason had passed away, three months of losing the only father figure she had had. If she didn’t know any better she could’ve sworn that he was still around, his presence felt throughout the small cabin she was inherited.  Stephen, Jason’s son, had delivered a letter stating such. The simple letter in the testament read, “Y/N, just know that a very good friend of mine holds a key to this cabin, he might drop by if he feels the need to feel close to me, or just an escape from the darkness of this world. Be kind to him, Dr. Reid needs some warmth, kindness and love in his life.”  

Days later she found a piece of paper on the floor of the cabin. She really needed to seal the mail slot on the door and install a mailbox.  But she couldn’t help but let out a gasp on who sent it, the Dr. Reid in her godfather's letter. 

Dear Gideon,  It’s been three months since you’ve passed and I can’t help but ask why I never reached out to you when you left the BAU. 

Oh. So he’s a coworker. She wondered if he helped found the BAU alongside Rossi and her godfather, suddenly wondering if Dr. Reid had many stories about her godfather’s younger days.  Silencing her thoughts, she continued reading. 

You know how I’m a specialist at overthinking everything and I just can’t help but wonder if I still have a place in the BAU now that you’ve gone. 

Who is this Dr. Reid? 

Gideon I’m becoming a mastermind at vanishing into the deep thoughts of my brain in the middle of the night. Midnights have now become my afternoons. I miss the talks we used to have. If I’m being honest I’m finding it so hard to find my place with the team now that I can’t just hide in your office. Can you believe Morgan invited me out to the club? Me. 

Club? Was Dr. Reid not an old guy like her godfather or was Morgan just being nice and inviting a mentor out to drinks?  Curiosity getting the best of her, she continued reading the letter, hoping to get more answers on who Dr. Reid really is. 

You always used to say my first degree was running away into the deep thoughts of my mind but I think I have added a fourth Ph.D to my resume and that’s being my own worst enemy. 

Multiple Phds? She couldn’t even finish school. Who was this guy? 

You know how hard it is to admit it to myself but I miss you Gideon. Sometimes I still talk to you when I feel like screaming at the sky, angry that you left me with nothing but a letter, just like everyone else that had ever left me did, but I can't be angry at you.  -SSA Agent Reid…. Yes I know, Gideon. I need to make people respect me. So I guess I’m signing off as, SSA Doctor Spencer Reid. 

He wouldn’t need to make people respect him if he wasn’t young? Would he? Not being able to get her mind off the mysterious Dr. Reid, she decided to write him a letter.

Coming back from a demanding case always felt like a relief and the worst thing in the world at the same time. Relief for finally being home and the worst thing because once you’re home, warm in bed, your mind starts reliving every little thing you could’ve done differently. This night would be different. Spencer was greeted at the door by his Russian Blue cat named Atticus and a tea-stained letter on his mailbox. 

Dr. Spencer Reid, I must admit that receiving a letter addressed to my godfather was surprising, I fully apologize for opening and reading your letter, I assumed you meant for no one to read it. Have you ever been to my godfather Jason’s cabin? If you have, then you must know that there is a small town that is 15 miles away. I went there earlier today and down the block from the main road there is a small antique shop. I stopped and entered, always curious about the stories that old items have, who owned them? Were they special to them or just small trinkets, why did the owner sell them? All these questions. No answers. Anyways, there was a box filled with old drawings and photographs. 25 cents each and I couldn't help but buy some because they all reminded me of you.  You must think I'm insane for saying that something reminded me of you when we have never met, so please don’t profile that too much, anyways, these photographs had me imagining things. It's crazy. Heck, I don’t even know anything about you. Yes, I could look it up but where's the fun in that? Is it crazy that I can’t help myself and imagine who you are? That I cannot help but think of all of these little scenarios making a film about your life. I’ve been rambling too much about nonsense so take care Dr. Reid.   - Hope you stay safe  Y/N

Reid read and re-read the surprise letter. Atticus on his lap sleeping. Goddaughter, why couldn't he recall Gideon ever mentioning a goddaughter. Who was she? Based on the letter she rambled…a lot and got excited about the most random things. Reid let out a soft giggle startling Atticus. “I think…I think I want to write another letter, Atticus. She seems fun to talk to, don't you think?” 

Silence. That is all she heard for three long weeks cursing herself for responding to his letter the way that she did.  He must’ve thought she was nothing but a foolish petulant child with her dreaming and fantasizing about different worlds and what ifs. Just as she was wondering if she should write another letter apologizing she heard the unmistakable sound of papers being thrown into the mail slot. “Thank you!” she shouted through the door to the mailman. One coffee-stained envelope standing out over the spam ads she got.

Dear Y/N, I must admit writing a letter to you seems a bit strange so please bear with me if I seem   awkward,  I promise I am working on it. Shit I spilled some coffee on the paper, hopefully its not that noticeable. Who am I kidding of course it will be noticeable. Well I am hoping you like coffee smells. Ms. Y/N I hope that the letter I sent you did not cause you any more grief, and please feel free to…how did you put it? “ramble much about nonsense” to me at any time. I thought it was cute. Well now I am thankful you cannot see the blush I have because Derek is sure making fun of me at the moment. I’m sorry that it seems like forever since you last replied to me but the case we had was taking a toll on me and I couldn’t seem to taint your sunshineness with the darkness of the case. I just wanted to let you know that the way you make time disappear everytime i re-read your letter brings me calmness, and brings me hope that maybe someday we could become friends. Please always continue telling me about the little what if scenarios that help you make my life seem more interesting than it is. I find it adorably cute that you do these things. Now I can’t help but wonder if you will think I am just a boring old man that sits in the corner of a dark room– I promise I am not. Anyways, a little about myself I have a cat named Atticus, I enjoy stimulating my brain by learning new things which is how I got three Phds. You can always find me with coffee and a good book and—fucking hell I sound boring as fuck and you give off the impression of being this magnetic carefree beautiful person.   Great, now I am overthinking everything I have said so far – everyone knows that afterall i am a specialist at doing so.  Thats all for now  Sincerely, Spencer Reid. 

She couldn’t help but giggle. All throughout the letter Spencer sounded just like the type of person that she would love to get to know further. Someone that in another life would be considered a tortured poet, living amongst the rest of them in the peacefulness of the lakes, someone that would be rubbing elbows with Wordsworth and Austen. As she re-read the letter she was trying to ignore the blush that spread across her cheeks at Spencer using the word cute in reference to her. One thing was certain that she would be holding on to her pen-pal because for some reason he made her feel a way no other person was able to do. 

It had been two months since the initial letter that started this newfound friendship Spencer found himself in. The only thing that has kept him going were the weekly letters that Y/N has been sending him. They’re weekly letters always bringing a smile to his face and giving him the necessary “push” in between cases. This new letter brought an even bigger smile to his face and the sudden urge to finally drive up to that cabin and meet the person that has been holding his mind captive all day. 

Dear Spencer,  How is Atticus doing? I know you were planning on adopting a kitten to keep Atticus company while you are away. May I suggest a cute little white cat? Or a ginger cat? Maybe one named  Arlo or Agatha or something old  literature sounding. How have you been? Are the headaches gone? Today I went down to the small village that is close by and there is this new coffee place and I couldn’t help but think about how much you would like it. Would you be interested in ever meeting me there? Keeping this one short and sweet because i did kinda sorta just ask you out and anxiety is at an all time high  - Y/N

There was one thing that Spencer learned that night and that was that for the first time in years he allowed himself to hope that maybe just maybe the person he was falling for was falling right alongside him. 

Girls night. Oh how she missed her friends ever since moving into the cabin. It had taken a lot of convincing but she had finally managed to get her friends up for the weekend. In the middle of drinks she started gushing about Spencer and their friendship. She was telling her friends about the cute pen-pal she had and how she had taken the leap to ask him out. “Ha. What a loser do you really think that and FBI agent will take the time to come and meet someone as boring as you?” Her so-called best friend Lindsey had said, her words ringing in her ear drink after drink. How could she be so foolish thinking that a guy as smart as Spencer would ever confess his love to her. It had been a cold reminder that she was not the exception, that after years of this happening she had not learned her lesson that fairy tale endings did not happen to girls like her. So, for the first time in the two months they had been communicating instead of answering his letter she burned it, eventually leaving him at the coffee house waiting, glued to his chair instead of meeting her for the first time. The following week the first of many daily letters arrived in which he kept asking her why. 

Dear Y/N, Did I do something wrong? Did you move on? Help me because in my mind I'm still at that coffee shop collecting dust wondering where you are, wondering why you didn’t show up. If you ever think you may have got it wrong and want to meet, I will be at that coffee shop every Friday at 7 waiting for my sunshine to show up.  Yours truly, Spencer 

Three weeks. It had been three long weeks since he had heard from her, so he decided to take the initiative and for the first time since Gideon’s death he used the key he had left him. The drive to the cabin was filled with anxious thoughts. Would she be happy to see him? Did she meet someone while they were writing letters? 

Walking into the cabin he could smell something baking and the unmistaken sound of laughter coming from the small kitchen, making his way around the cabin he caught a glimpse of her dancing around the kitchen, “wow you are even more beautiful than I ever thought.” he said catching her off guard. “Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” she yelled “Oh–i–right yeah i – Spen–Rei–Doctor” he let out a puff of air, “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Gideon actually gave me a key to this place.” he smiled softly as crimson crept across her face. “Oh, hi wh–a–what are you doing here?” “I was worried about you” he mumbled

“Oh” In any other situation awkward silence would have followed but not between them, instead fits of laughter happened. “I’m sorry I blew you off Spencer” taking a deep breath she continued, “its just… a friend reminded me that girls like me don’t get the cute guys” Taking a step close to her spencer began rubbing circles in her wrist with his thumb “Y/N whoever said that is not a friend. I fell for the personality that shined through the letters we exchanged, I couldn’t care less about what you looked like you were already perfect in my mind and now that I am seeing you I can confirm that you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met” They spend that whole weekend together, the days consisting of  baking, stargazing and teaching Y/N how to play chess and nights filled with cuddles, kissing and watching movies together.

Read my master list here Join my taglist here Constructive criticism always welcomed on my ask box!

Taglist: @samuel-de-champagne-problems | @fightingdragonswithwho | @writer-in-theory | @pretty-boys-book-club | @kodiakwhiskey | @boldlyvoid | @the-chaotic-cow | @nygmaperry | @reidslibrarybook | @luredwithpretzels | @justreadingficsdontmindme | @nomajdetective | @lilibet261 | @dontjudgemeimawriter | @serenity-lattes | @reidselle | @alexxavicry | @cafeacademia | @spencer-reid-wonderland | @paperbackprettyboy | @esoltis280 | @milla984 | @spookyysilverr People not on my taglist I think might be interested in this: @reid-ingandweeping | @reidsaurora | @foxy-eva | @ptrckjcne if you want to be removed from my taglist please let me know :)

#spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfic #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fandom