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toruslvt · 18 hours

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HOT BABES IN YOUR AREA

⋆ your broke boyfriend and roommate Toji suggests you both start an onlyfans.

⋆ mdni. +f!reader, obviously filming unprotected sx, groping, taking suggestive pictures, dirty talk, very very dirty talk, praising, squirting, he calls you slut once.

a soft pop was heard from Toji’s back shoulders as he stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired yawn. it'd been a long day in between picking up uncalled fights and betting on races, luckily he managed to make some money, at least enough to cover a few expenses like the bills and a part of the rent of the shitty overpriced apartment you lived in. he didn’t really care though, as long as he got to see your pretty face, Toji would agree to live under a bridge.

after counting the hundreds bills he hummed satisfied, putting them in his pocket while walking through the bustling streets, following the path he knew perfectly. and to his luck, the first thing he finds upon entering your living room is well, you, sitting on the couch looking worn out. why did your cute little face was even cutter all exhausted?

“welcome home” you chime, giving the man a soft smile and slight look as he steps through the door, “how was your day?” the words are mingled with the tap of your fingers on a laptop keyboard, focused and slightly squinted eyes flickering through the bright screen.

Toji smirks at the sound of your voice, walking over the back of the couch where you sit and tilting your head sideways, a bit rougher than intended, but the languid kiss he leaves on your mouth doesn’t let you complain, “shitty” he grins, parting from your mouth with a slight thread of saliva connecting you both, “but that’s life, doll, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose”

“liar” you say with furrowed brows and a knowing look, “where’s the money”

you have always been so good at looking though him, with a deep chuckle he reaches for the pocket of his loose pants, waving the wad of cash in the air before returning it to it's previous place, “any luck?” he asks pointing to your laptop with his chin, curious whether you’d got any luck at searching for a proper paying job.

“mm, nothing new” you mention, the tapping fading as your caught by surprise at the sudden movement of Toji attempting to lay on your lap, not giving a fuck whether he did it on top of the keyboard and ruined your most valuable possession, “hey...!”

ignoring your struggles he speaks, “y’know, there has to be another way to earn money, not like we can live solely from gambling, huh?” he chuckles, he knew he was not stopping with the gambling, “maybe you can come bet with me, maybe we can try something else...”

you raise a brow, looking down at him on your lap “what are you thinking about?”

a slow grin spreading through his face as he licks his teeth once, “you ever heard of onlyfans?”

a choke is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you really should have grown used to Toji’s boldness by the months you’ve been dating —and currently, living together, “are you serious?”

“c’mon, don’t give me that look” he huffs, teasingly rolling his eyes “we could be earning money while having fun”

you have actually considered the option, and now coming from your boyfriend’s lips sounded even more tempting, specially with the way he not so subtly adjusted his gigantic cock beneath his pants. what was he even thinking of.

you give him a tilted look, urging him into continue with the thought and earning a dark chuckle in return, “we can sell some pictures, y’know” he starts, sitting upright and kneeling with one of your thighs between his, cupping the back of your neck to keep your gaze on his, so close you felt his breathing on your lips, “maybe even stream ourselves fuckin’, n’ charge people too watch. we’d be swimming in money in no time” his voice drops and a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes, “thinkin’ bout it got me hard as fuck”

and with the way his heavy, hot bulge is pressing on your thigh you’re getting so horny too, breathlessly whispering a “yeah, alright” that’s a bit too desperate.

“that’s my girl” he purrs, leaning down to suck your tongue onto his mouth, the sound so lewd your panties get wet in an instant, “need to fuck you hard..., but not yet, babe” voice is thick with lust, in a sudden movement you’re on top of him, straddling his hips while his fingers trail across your stomach, dipping low to brush on the edge of your underwear peaking from above your pants, “gotta show off what we got goin’ on here” as he speaks one hand comes up to slide under your shirt, squeezing a breast slightly rough, "you got nice tits, babe, why don’tcha let me take a pic of them?, with this pretty little body of yours all those perverts will be paying good for more than just a picture”

“you’re turning into quite a businessman” you tease, an attempt of a grin on your face that gets interrupted by a sharp gasp at the rough touch of your lover’s calloused fingertips pinching your nipples, then your shirt is out in the blink of an eye.

one hand grasping your phone and the other slides the cup of your bra down, enough to feel the weight on his palm, “mm, someone’s got a really nice pair” focusing on capturing the swell of your breasts and his tough palm cupping your soft skin, Toji starts snapping the pictures, occasionally flicking your nipples to watch them harden under his touch, “that should be enough” he groans after a while, pulling you down for a kiss and setting your phone into your pocket so both his hands reach for your ass, gently guiding your hips back and forth on his hard cock.

“you’ve got nice tits too, why don’t you let me take pics of them?” you smirk against him, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend before he’s carrying you to the bedroom, placing you in bed while he hoovers your body, deliberately slow peeling off his own shirt with a wide smirk on his lips.

soon your phone gallery is filled with 'thirst traps' as you roll in bed, “these will sell good” you murmur, voice hoarse from the endless teasing as you watch at your small hand wrapped around Toji’s fat cock through the device screen, languidly masturbating him until the flushed mushroom shaped tip drooled precum all over your belly.

Toji has never been as turned on in his entire life, quickly gripping your hips and guiding his length down to gently tap your lower abdomen, mimicking a thrust that reaches your belly button, “fuck..” his breathing comes unsteady, each thrust drawing more precum, and honestly it was extremely surprising for him to be so worked up without fucking your cunt.

it’s not a surprise your account grows so much and so sudden, the sexual tension and undeniable chemistry present in every post, and just as expected, what started with merely pictures turned into videos; a better quality camera perched on a side of the bed where the sight of your dripping pussy swallowing Toji’s cock was on prime sight, sinking and raising with practiced ease, “f-fuck, Toji” you mewl, rolling your hips on his pelvis before continuing to bounce hard with the help of his hands squeezing your ass. each gasp and slap only encouraging you further, so ready to fill your tight walls with a nice creampie.

your bank account gets as filled as your closet, with Toji delving into the pleasure of buying you slutty skirts and panties to rip during live streams, although his favorite one is a cream, pleated skirt, one that barely covers your ass, but who cares when that’s what the public wants.

“it’s so difficult not to fuck you right now” Toji grunts staring at your outfit a bit too intensely, opting instead to cup your cheeks roughly and kissing you sloppily, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth, just for a good couple of minutes to leave you hot and bothered.

a bit embarrassing at first, specially considering one of your boyfriend’s favorite positions to fuck you in was sitting on a chair in front of the desk with your streaming setup, camera pointing directly at your barely covered ass that slapped and jiggled lewdly with each forceful pull of Toji’s hands on your waist, fucking you on his throbbing cock.

“oh yeah, babe, such a good fuckin’ girl, taking every inch of my cock” he coos against your ear, looking straight into the camera that perfectly captures the way your lips hungrily grip his cock, juices splattering around with each smack of his balls on your ass.

“Toji, toji, toji!” is all you can moan, turning into a broken sob as you’re unable to move or squirm, just beg and take cock, “t’s so deep, oh god, T-toji slow down”

but he just snarls in return, the chime of incoming tips only fueling his stamina, “your pussy is begging for it, doll, tightening around my cock, ah shit—, so creamy and juicy, my pretty little cock hungry slut”

his thrusting becomes more frantic, his shaft plunging into the depths of your cunt, heavy and full balls slapping your ass until it got sore.

“m’cumming, ngh, o-oh fuck,... toji, please!” with a sudden, and extra rough thrust aimed at your g-spot you squirt loudly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your juices splatter around, most likely staining the camera lens with a couple drops by the sound of the stream tips increasing, you didn’t care though, focused on not passing out as you scream and tits rub on your boyfriend’s chest, adding into the sensation, yet your money lust driven lover doesn’t stop, pulling your hands back against your back for his to hold, bouncing you on his cock solely from the grip of one of his hands and his hips bucking up widely.

he hums, biting down on his tongue at the tightening of his balls from the sensation of your walls milking his cock, sucking him deeper with each thrust into your needy, cumming core, so close to filling your womb with his own cum “making a mess on my cock, your juices are dripping everywhere, was it that good?” you can’t reply, obviously, “i’m so close, darling, ready to fill your messy cunt with my seed”

#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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bella-goths-wife · 3 days

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I feel like we should have an actor au for the pet series where like the vees actors comfort the actor (who is the reader) after really distressing scenes I just like imagine vals actor being so sweet after the scene where val locked pet in a room with him to make her panic idk just a thought I would love to see because even though I luv the story line it always kills me when there is no comfort after things that happen even though sometimes they do comfort her it just makes me feel so icky and I feel like having an actor au will help people like me so that we can still enjoy it, with the reminder in the back of our heads that it is not real because even though its not real it still kinda feels real if you know what i mean because I get really immersed in x reader stories. I know this is a lot but just a suggestion no pressure I will still read and love it either way

I actually think this is a fun way to comfort the readers without straying from canon, I think I’ll probably do one for each of the characters each

Also they all have the same names as their characters :)

Vs pet actor au (Valentino version)

Warnings: val is worried, pet acts panicked, crying, non canon events,

“Come here princesa” val coos in his characters voice to your character as you act out a fake shiver of fear

You act out the scene of abuse with fake tears streaming down your face. The scene was one that you had been nervous about for weeks, having known that it was a disturbing scene to watch and film.

In the scene, vals character had locked your character in a room with him to imply that he would possibly assault her like he had done to angels character to cause her to panic and breakdown.

You and val had gone over lines together in your trailer and lamented about how it would be a rough filming day for the two of you, considering you had the punishment scene to film just after.

But you put on a brave face as you acted out your scene with minimal distraction. You followed the script and your weeping character sat beside Val on the soft couch as the camera did a close up on your face to ensure they captured the panic in your eyes and the quiver in your bitten lips.

as it came time for val’s character Valentino to touch your thigh in a menacing implication, he did so and you felt a shiver uncomfortably run through you.

You suddenly became hyper aware of the people behind the cameras who had their eyes peeled on you, and how the pink lighting shined so brightly on you.

As your cue came to jump into val’s arms, you froze completely with your face lowered to your thigh and tears running down your cheeks.

“Cut” the director called out and it broke you out your frozen daydream

“Everything okay kid?” Val whispers with a concerned look as he removes his hand from your thigh

“I don’t think I can do it” you whisper back through tears as you face your back to the cameras

“Everything okay up there guys?” The director called out with a concerned expression

Val uses his wings to hide your face and tucked you against his chest before he answered, making sure to spare you any embarrassment.

“We’re gonna need a 15 minute break” val called back politely “private please”

The director nodded with an understanding look before calling most of the set to go on a break away from the filming Scene.

Val turned to you and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay kid?” Val asks with a worried look as he pulls you away from his chest to observe your expression

“Yeah” you say with a shaky inhale as you wipe your tearful eyes with your palm “it all got a bit much for me”

“I get it kid, it’s a hard scene to film for everyone” val says with a nod and a soothing tone “that’s why I tried to put it off for as long as possible”

“I’m just not used to doing scenes like this guess” you say with a sigh “I had the same problem with Vox during our panic scene, I think it just gets too much for me”

“Your playing a very difficult role honey, it’s understandable that you’ll get a bit freaked out during your scenes” val says gently

“I can’t believe I made them stop shooting, I bet they’re all so mad at me now” you say with an embarrassed groan “I should have just continued”

“Hey, hey, no one is mad at you” val says with a reassuring tone “your having to put yourself in very disturbing scenarios, you have every right to stop filming when you feel uncomfortable and anyone who tells you otherwise hasn’t got a clue about how much work these scenes take”

You nod with a frown, still embarrassed about your freak out, Val notices and wraps his arm around your shoulder

“How about we go get some water and then go talk to the intimacy coordinator about how we can make it feel less overwhelming” val suggests with a smile “or we can try and ask if we could use your body double for the scenes where my hand is physically touching you”

“Yeah” you say with a small nod and a smile “let’s go talk to the intimacy coordinator please”

“Of course sweetheart” val says with a gentle smile as he wraps his hand and wing around your shoulders and begins to guide you to the door.

You managed to work out a way to make the scene to work after a few different attempts and you captured your best shots before retreating to your trailer with Val in tow as you both celebrated a successful scene by eating food while you had your wigs, makeup and costumes removed.

After that day, Val made it a point to always be present during your harder scenes and was always checking in on you during the breaks between takes. He also made sure to update the intimacy coordination on your preferences so they could be added to your filming contract.

You were the youngest of the actors he was working with, and he wanted to make sure you were completely protected while on set.

Should I do more?

Sorry it’s so short 😭

Tag list:

@the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @ivebeenthearchersstuff @hazbinhotelxreader @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @lilyalone @rerarlo @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs

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diordeer · 3 months

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౨ৎ HOW YOU GET THE GIRL

“i want you for worse or for better, i would wait for ever and ever, broke your heart, i'll put it back together, i would wait for ever and ever” - taylor swift (smau)

contains: charlie bushnell x fem!reader, where they both star in taylor swift’s ‘how you get the girl’ music video (i accidentally made the bsf so bitchy so have fun with that)

description: we are doing our yearbook quotes… do u guys think “tell me your deepest fantasies: 8-12 hours of uninterrupted sleep” is okay?! or is it cringey bc this is STRESSING me out!!

requested by: anon 🫣

yn.ln just posted on their story

Seen by taylorswift, iamcharliebushnell and others

Direct Messages:

taylorswift: 😘😘

↳ yn.ln: love uuu!

user1: UMMM WHAT IS THIS?!

↳ yn.ln: idk 🤷‍♀️

user2: U AND MISS TAYLOR? GIRL WHAT IS HAPPENING

user3: ugh ur jacket is gorg

iamcharliebushnell: i cant wait!!

↳ yn.ln: im actually like about to combust

bsf: i still think ur lying about this

↳ yn.ln: i cant believe u would think that of me 😢

Liked by selena.gomez, ayoedebiri and others

taylorswift ‘how you get the girl’ (taylor’s version) music video out now!! with my lovely lovely cast yn ln and charlie bushnell 🩵🩵

tagged iamcharliebushnell, yn.ln

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yn.ln this was literally the funnest thing to film everrr!

↳ iamcharliebushnell i miss you!!

↳ yn.ln miss u too 😣😣

user1 GUYS WTH IM GOING CRAZY

selenagomez love u 😘😘 so proud!

user2 THE LONG AWAITED MV

user3 dare i say best music video so far

sabrinacarpenter another release another world record 😍

↳ yn.ln girls unreal

user4 I WANT U FOR WORSE OR FOR BETTER

↳ user2 I WOULD WAIT FOR EVER AND EVER!!

user5 CHARLIE AND YN AND TAYLOR?! I CANT.

↳ user6 my 3 fav people 🫣🫣

user7 im in love with director taylor era

gracieabrams aahhhhh!!!

user8 this music video gave my eyes ecstasy

user9 yn and charlie are so cute together 🥺

↳ user10 kinda ship them !!

Likes by gracieabrams, sabrinacarpenter and others

yn.ln i’ll open up the door and say are u insane?!?! (I love you so so much taylor thank you for letting me have anything to do with you, and being a part of this mv!!)

tagged taylorswift, iamcharliebushnell, selenagomez

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taylorswift i love our little gossip sessions

↳ yn.ln im always free for one 📞

↳ user2 what i would do for a gossip sesh with taylor

iamcharliebushnell its been a long six months 😢

↳ yn.ln it has and i must see u NOW

↳ user1 and u were too afraid to tell her what u want!!

user6 the editors having a field day with this one

bsf so u werent lying 🤨

↳ yn.ln i told u i wasnt 😣

↳ bsf ok well now u HAVE to let me meet taylor swift

↳ taylorswift 😉😉

user3 yn in the first pic!! 🩵

user4 and the hottest onscreen couple goes to 🏆

↳ user5 and offscreen!!

↳ user4 are they together?!?!

↳ user5 no… but did u see how they looked at eachover in the vid?? No acting can do that 🙏

user7 well now i need a romcom with these two ASAP

↳ yn.ln I WISH

Liked by walker.scobell, yn.ln and others

iamcharliebushnell thank you so much taylor swift for letting me be apart of this project! and thank you yn for being such a great partner to work with😋

tagged yn.ln, taylorswift

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yn.ln ugh i know we are unstoppable

↳ iamcharliebushnell so unstoppable i might do a backflip on stage

↳ yn.ln I BEG

↳ taylor.lautner 🤸

↳ yn.ln i love you taylor

taylorswift you are so so amazing!

user1 anyone else notice how everyone has posted the usual pics for the instagram posts but charlie is only posting him and yn together (and ofc taylor)

↳ user2 their chemistry a bit too good 🧐

↳ user3 IF THEY GOT TOGETHER I WOULD GO FERAL

leahsavajeffries OMG!

user4 taylor told u how to get the girl… you acted out how you get the girl… now you have to go get the girl!!!!

walker.scobell man gets cast as the villain in MY show and now HE gets the music video with his celeb crush 🙄

[this comment has been deleted]

↳ iamcharliebushnell walker…

↳ yn.ln 👀

dior.n.goodjohn WALKER HAS NO FILTER LMFAOOO

taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @highfidelities

#charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #smau #social media au #aesthetic #taylor swift #how you get the girl #instagram

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nastyaromatherapy · 7 months

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"All yours" (18+)

You're left home alone with your stepbrother Ethan.

Tried to make a dark fic for (this) request (sorry if it isnt dark enough😭)

pairing - perv!StepBrother!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.7k+ word fic

warnings: dub con, stepcest, corruption kink, I lowkey have a voice kink so ethan talks A LOT, slightly innocent reader

Your mom always told you to cover up around your stepbrother, Ethan. But you always asked her, "why?" He was your brother after all.

So, when your mom and stepdad were out for dinner, and your stepsister was at a study session, you naturally broke the rules. The house was hot- and your parents didn't let you blast the air conditioning.

You walked through the living room where Ethan watched tv wearing spandex, and a thin white tee without a bra. Instantaneous boner for Ethan. He covered it up with a decorative pillow.

"Your mom okay with you wearing that?" He asks you as you wander into the kitchen for a soda. "What does it matter?" You respond. "Care to join me?" He asks, patting the seat next to him on the sofa. You turn to see the tv, it was a horror film. You shook your head profusely.

"Come on, don't be lame," he said, throwing his head back, exposing his adam's apple. "I'll buy you pizza," he bargains. "Fine," you say, plopping your ass onto the cushion. He immediately smirks and slaps the opened can out of your hand, making it spill on the floor.

"Ethan!" You yelled, annoyed. When you bent down to grab the can he slapped your ass hard, probably making a mark. You shoot your head back, "Stop being a perv."

He chuckled to himself as you cleaned the mess, now squatting to prevent further pestering.

You sat with him on the couch and he turned on the movie. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you give in to his warm, brotherly touch.

Suddenly on screen there's a jump scare and you jump, accidently rubbing your forearm on his erect cock, making him groan. "Fuck, I'm sorry," you apologized. "You keep doing that!" He says annoyed through gritted teeth.

"What?" You ask confused. "You keep touching me there, like you want me to get hard." You were utterly bewildered. What was he talking about? "Ethan what the fuck are you-" "just shut the fuck up. You're a slut. Admit it."

Truth is you haven't touched him once. Well besides the part with a jump scare. He needed an excuse for him being hard.

"I have nothing to admit," you say. He bites his cheek, looking at the ceiling with an astonished look. "You're really just gonna say that? Okay so if I felt in between your legs right now," he started as he got closer to your ear. "You wouldn't be wet?"

You weren't before, but his words sent shivers down your spine causing you to pool into your spandex. "I won't," you chuckled out, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Uhuh," he sounded, fingers reaching for your dampening crotch.

"Ethan c'mon," you whined. "Let's just watch the movie." He shook his head. "Not till we find out if you're a liar or no." You pulled away from his clutch, which made it easy for him to push you onto your back. You sat up with your elbows, and as you got up you felt a sense of heat in your core.

You look down to see Ethan's fingers, teasing the cloth that covered your pussy. You whimper at his touch and quickly close your legs. You notice his mouth corners start to curl up. He knew you were wet, could feel through your bottoms. But he pretended as if he didn't know.

"'Kay, whatever, let's just watch the damn movie." You got back up into his arms as the movie continued to play. It seems everything just went back to normal.

After awhile, however, Ethan started grazing his fingers on your clit through the fabric of your spandex. You shivered a little when reunited with his touch. He held back a chuckle when he saw your cute reaction, biting your lip to keep composure.

His motions were put together and circular, definitely not accidental. Your breathing grows heavier and your chest heaves. He gets a good look at your perky nipples poking out of your tight tee.

You involuntarily inch your legs wider, giving him more access to your parts. You whimper when he presses down harder against your clit, and grab onto him a little tighter. He groans at your grip.

You start to grind against his hand, humping it, desperately needing more friction. You weren't even thinking, just mindlessly fucking your brother's hand.

Your juices and cum start to seep through your spandex, leaving slimy, sticky residue on your crotch area. When Ethan feels it on his fingers, he removes his hand, making you whine. "Not a slut, huh? As if you didn't just take your stepbrother's hand without hesitation." You look at him, ashamed of yourself, ashamed you'd let him touch you in that way.

"Not gonna answer? That's okay, it's better for bitches to shut up." He grabs you by your waist and pulls you onto his lap. He guides you by your hips on his sweat pant covered boner. "Ethan," you moaned out. "We shouldn't." You said, sounding hesitant. "Oh but we've come so far," he said, reaching under your shirt to grope your breasts which made you gasp. "Be a shame to just stop now."

You felt disgusted at your self, but he was right. He was so hard, and you were so wet. Why stop now?

"I wonder how many men have had the pleasure of being inside you," he inquired as he shut his eyes, just imagining. "J-just my boyfriend," you stuttered out. His eyes shot open. "You've only ever had sex with your boyfriend of 3 months?" You nodded. "And I didn't like it."

He chuckled, bucking his hips into yours. "Oh you're gonna love it with me." You shook your head. "Ethan we really can't, you're my brothe-" he slammed his lips onto yours, forcing your plush ones to meet his chapped, grabbing your head from behind. You restrained at first but in the end you gave in. He was pretty damn good at it.

He pulled away and slipped your top off, being quick to take a breast into his mouth. He looked up at you with dark eyes as he sucked on its bud, making your heat throb. You moaned and continued to grind on his length, hornier than ever. He massaged the lonely one in his hand as he continued to feast on your tit, groaning into it. "Ethan," you moaned out, twisting fingers in his hair.

He pulled off of your puffy nipple, "Fuck, on your knees baby." You got on your knees in front of him and his sweats and boxers dropped to his ankles. His cock sprung out, resting on his lower abdomen. He takes hold of the lower shaft, guiding it towards your mouth. "Ever suck a cock, baby?" You shook your head a no. "It's easy. Just take as much as you can and don't use your teeth." His teaching was painfully vague, but you were desperate to taste him anyways you might've just been a natural.

You opened for him, letting his head slip in. "Fuck," he panted out. You took in about a fourth of his length, tasting every vein and every muscle. God was he tasty. You slowly got the hang of it, being able to take a little more of him. Ethan had his head thrown back in ecstasy, groaning and whining.

He looked at you, and it was a sight. Hair messy, eyes wide and teary with fluttering eyelashes, and of course your tits were hanging out in full view. He went to grip the back of your head, becoming in control of your movements, but he didn't go to deep.

"What do you think our parents would think, hm?" He asked. You just didn't want to think about it. "Plastered on the ground for me so prettily," he says smirking. "Sucking off her brother's cock? God. Fuck," he says breathily, pulling out of your mouth. Your saliva dripped off of his throbbing length.

"Bet they're so proud," he teases, laying out on the couch and putting you on top of him, pulling off your spandex in the process. He reaches down for his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He teases around the sticky area, rubbing his tip all over your folds. "So wet," he whispers to himself.

"Ethan, please," you cry out, pussy aching. "Yeah? Want your brother to fuck you senseless?" He asks and you respond with a pleading nod.

He slides himself in your tight cunt. "Jesus christ," he groans, holding you in place by the hips as he thrusts up into you. Your legs shake and you moan high pitched and pathetically. "So fucking tight. Guess your boyfriend hasn't been stretching you out, huh?" He asks through gritted teeth, closing his eyes whenever he lets out a groan. "Whenever he fucks you again, he's not gonna find any pleasure in it cause i'm gonna leave you so loose," he says, gloating at his size.

"No, no one after this, just you," you whine as tears well in your eyes. "That so, baby? That works, we just gotta sneak better around our parents now. I'm gonna be fucking this pussy every fucking date night." Your walls clench around him, only making him go harder.

He lets go of you and you fall on top of him and whimper. "Fuck yourself on me baby, c'mon." You start riding him impatiently, needing desperately a release. He reaches for your jaw to pull you down into a hard kiss, teeth colliding. "Riding me so good- shit, yeah?" He says into the kiss. You moan into his mouth whenever your clit comes in contact with his groin, only adding more friction.

"You're mine now, yeah? Mine to use whenever I please?" He asks. "Mhm! Yes Ethan oh my god i'm yours," you scream out before you cum over his cock. A trickle of your warm cum coats his cock as you stop your movements in recovery. He gets a hold of your waist once more and thrusts a couple more times, just to get himself over the edge. With a final thrust he buries himself inside, thick cum painting your inner walls. The two of you lay together, huffing, covered in sweat. "All yours, Ethan." You whisper.

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jonphaedrus · 2 years

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some facts about my father, a perfectly ordinary human being:

got tenure in two years by getting two 2.5-million dollar grants from the government and he's now held that job for the longest time any faculty at his university has ever been tenured. literally almost longer than his entire school has existed.

he's won a fullbright...thrice.

speaks five languages (fluently: english, hebrew, russian; functionally: polish, dutch) and can get around in three others (german, japanese, and "pidgin arabic" whatever the fuck that means)

he was once locked inside the great pyramid at giza. on purpose.

one time i went to austin when he was out of town and when we got back to his house the only food in his fridge was 1) bulk family size cocktail shrimp from costco with all the shrimp eaten out of it and only the marinade left, 2) three boxes worth of frozen yoghurt bars, 3) two bags of frozen mini-wontons that expired two years earlier

has only one demand for his funeral and it's that while his casket is being lowered into the ground i make sure they play "whatever it is, i'm against it!" from the marx brothers film horse feathers

broke into (and out of) martial law poland in the early 80s and brought four hams in his back seat so he could spent six months living with his girlfriend, including a short period of time where he tried to drive from białystok to kraków in the middle of a blizzard, got lost, had no phone, no map, ran into the police, accidentally gave them his fake texas passport and almost got deported, bribed them with a ham, and then somehow ended up at his girlfriend's brother's apartment by complete happenstance and got blind drunk for a week

made friends with his assigned kgb agent in the 70s in russia

his car broke down in the middle of the sinai desert in the 70s and was saved from dying by a roaming passing band of bedouin car mechanics who took his entire car apart and put it back together and drove off without saying anything except "it works."

convinced me and one of my childhood best friends that he had found a way to time travel an hour into the future through the careful use of daylight savings, a radio station, a car clock, and the fact that he has never been on time for anything in his entire life

when he got his house renovated he decided that two attics and two cleverly hidden crawl spaces wasn't enough, so he added two more attics and another cleverly hidden crawl space, and i wish good luck to whatever poor schmuck (my cousin) has to sell his house someday.

broke his cherry-wood dining table under piles of papers...twice.

when in grad school, pretended to be a visiting russian statistics professor named "professor blowjob" (in russian) and somehow got away with this in order to teach a lecture on how s of x = f of n (sex is fun)

conned me into the belief that i had a magical color-changing guinea pig and kept this act up for literally a decade before admitting the truth

became a fellow on one of the yellow river restoration projects by making friends with an old man doing tai chi with a sword in a park in beijing. turned out that old man with a sword in a park in beijing was the head of the national environmental protection office at the time.

#ill add more as i think of them.#and post links to the full stories once i get my dad to tell me them #so i can write them down #his versions are funnier than mine #this is a stable writing tag

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imaniwriting · 4 months

Note

Could you maybe do drew starkey and reader in an interview talking about things they like about each other on set and off (they’re together)

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (requests are open and are being answered in 1-2 days for the next 2 weeks)

Warnings: none

Summary : y/n and drew are together on an interview called About you.

Genre : fluff

“So y/n, drew!” Exclaimed the interviewer once the Cameras had started rolling again. “Hi!” Exclaimed Drew while bumping you making you laugh and smile at the interviewer and then turn to the camera to wave.

“Hi!” You said looking back to the interviewer who was beaming at you and drew. “ so today you’re completely free to talk about anything really set or off set related,” she started making you nod patiently. “But it has to be about things you like about each other” she finished making drew smile at her. “Sure we can do this.”

Y/n said while Turing to drew she smiled and broke into a laugh and he did too. “God this is so weird. I mean we know what we like about each other but saying it to each other’s face is different.” You exclaimed rubbing your arms against your thighs

“ okay if that’s the way it is lets start different, so Drew tell me one thing that y/n does on set that you like but you haven’t seen a lot of people do or you think is super cool and weird at the same time” said the interviewer making drew nod and think for a moment.

“Boy you better not embarrass me.” You warned before slapping his face playfully. He just smirked at the camera before turning back to the interviewer.

“So one thing i love, find weird and cool at the same time is the fact that y/n does not only memorize her own script she memorizes everybody else’s and so when ever we say one wrong she’s the first to know.”

The interviewer turned to y/n who was already staring at her. “Is that so?” Asked the interviewer while raising her eyebrows surprised. Y/n nodded her head. “It’s just that it’s easier for me to memorize the whole script i don’t really know why.” You tried to explain before turning to drew who was already looking at you smiling.

“Yeah but if we’re talking about off set I really really love her mood swings i can’t even explain it it’s just so funny to see her go from happy to angry” he said making your jaw drop.

“Dude, what?” You asked making him shrug his shoulders before grabbing your face and kissing your cheek. The interviewer had left from the cameras view leaving them alone to just naturally continue the interview.

“Okay im going to reveal a thing drew does in his free time when we have breaks during filming” you started staring knowingly at one of the cameras pointing at you guys “drew reads thirst tweets about himself in his free Time!” you exclaimed when he tried to grab your face to shut you up.

“See! It’s out and he enjoys them, you do not know how many times I’ve seen him smile at his phone thinking he was cheating only to see him like thirst tweets with his fake account. He be biting his nail and shit like that!” You said when drew finally managed to put his hand over your mouth

“Okay well at least i don’t watch edits all day about myself like you do!” He shot back you shrugged “well i just admire editors work you just read things horny people write when they’re bored.”

“Okay that’s its let’s wrap this up guys I’ll have to have a word with Mrs. Y/l here” he said as he got up and walked awfully close to the camera staring into its lens. “She will regret ever revealing that”

“See he doesn’t deny it!” You yelled from the back laughing. But that quickly died down when he ran up to you and picked you up by the waist. “Good bye guys!” He yelled and ran with you over his shoulder around making several crew members laugh out loud.

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chimivx · 2 months

Text

champagne confetti.

pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Female!Reader (ot7 minus two) (vegas addition)

summary: Jungkooks secret listening party is full of surprises.

word count: 7400

warnings: 18+, adults doing adults things and talking about adult things, no explicit sexual content, drinking, mentions of miscarriage/pregnancy talk, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

a/n: I was supposed to post this in the beginning of January. Apologies for the delay, been goin thru some things. Love you all. xo. This feels like an ending... But, I dunno... It also feels incomplete...

~ october 11th, 2023 ~

It took three rings for her to answer the phone.

Leaning over the bathroom counter, iPhone propped up against the mirror, your lips were pressed together firmly, an unreadable expression as Sunny’s bright smile popped up on the screen and fell within milliseconds, her pink glossy lips frowning. Behind her, palm trees and sunshine, a backdrop she’s become accustomed to, one she belongs in front of.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, squinting. Voices chattered in the background, a prominent one belonging to none other than Khloe Kardashian herself.

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “You’re filming?”

“No, having dinner with the girls,” she spoke fast, her eyes locked on you. “What’s going on? You okay? Dae okay? I can fly back.”

A small smile broke onto your lips. Nerves jittered in your veins, your heart beating a little faster than it should be. “We’re okay, just finished breakfast. She’s running around my room right now, she’s obsessed with Kook’s dirty ass song. We’ve had to listen to it everyday. Everyday, Sun. I hate it.”

“The Jack Harlow one?” she asked, and your grimace answered for you, making her cackle.

“First Seven, now this,” you said, teeth clenched. “What happened to sweet baby Jungkook?”

Sunny’s laugh sounded through your phone once more, triggering the pitter patter of little footsteps to come barreling into the bathroom door. “Honey, you’re funny, you know who changed that man.”

Your smile grew, shaking your head because you knew damn well who changed that man. Glancing to your right down at the floor, a two year old in pastel yellow footed pajamas was watching you, holding onto the doorframe with her little hands. There were messy pigtails in her hair, black as night, the skinny rubber bands slipping out after a good night's sleep. Eyes wide, the ghost of a smile on her face, she knew who you were talking to.

“Hi,” you said to her, and she giggled, her cheeks squishing her eyes like her fathers would.

“Dae?!” Sunny called, lurching forward in her seat. She excused herself from the table and hurried into whoever’s house she was at, walking into a hallway grander than your own. Your daughter’s lips parted, curiosity written all over the face she stole from your husband.

“Who is it?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the toddler as she walked toward you, wrapping her arms around one of your legs.

“Where’s my girl?” Sunny’s tone was eager, all she could see was the top of your head. Crouching down to pick Dae up, you propped her on your hip and grinned as Sunny gasped. “Hello, beautiful!”

Dae smiled, looking down at the phone, then looked at you, putting a finger between her little teeth.

“Say hi to Sunny,” you nodded, brushing leftover crumbs from breakfast off of her pajamas. “Tell her you haven’t brushed your hair yet today.” Another dramatic gasp came out of the phone, catching Dae’s attention.

“Baby, you tell your mother I blame her for that.” Sunny clicked her tongue. “You can’t even reach your hairbrush, it is not your fault.” She squinted at the screen. “She had those rubber bands yesterday, Honey, get them out!”

Dae was laughing, Sunny’s silly tone making her giggle in your arms, subsequently making you giggle along with her. “Dae,” you said softly after a breath, your daughter pointing her gaze at you. “Tell Sunny we’ve been really busy.” Your Californiacated best friend froze, her sculpted eyebrows furrowing a bit.

“Busy,” Dae said, copying you, her listening ears on full alert. Her little voice soft, smooth, the words broken as she tried to pronounce everything correctly.

“I’ve been gone for two weeks,” Sunny deadpanned. “How busy can you be?”

A laugh escaped you, Dae smiling back at you.

“Hey,” Sunny whined, “I’m over here, girl party, I want in on the secret,” she glanced around the room she was in, “I’m alone, promise.”

Your girl threw her arms around your shoulders, burying her head into your chest. Taking a look at Sunny, you laughed again at how smushed she looked on the screen, like she was trying to push her way through. Tapping your daughters back a few times where you held her, she perked up, still wearing a smile.

“Do you want to show Sunny?” you sighed, the nerves spiraling out of control.

“Show Sunny,” Dae said, drumming her hands on your shoulder.

“Show me what?!” Sunny cried from the phone.

A sudden deep breath shot through you. Dae, studying your form, placed a hand on your cheek, getting you to look over at her. You’ve seen the sparkle in her eyes elsewhere, in someone you’ve been without for a few weeks now. Someone you both had to say goodbye to, a day you wished to never have to relive.

She was half his, Dae was. Half Yoongi. A part of him you could still hold onto during these long months he’d be gone. It was never certain when you’d get to see him again throughout his service, but you held onto to hope that it was sometime soon. Especially now.

“I love you,” you whispered to your baby.

Dae, without missing a beat, whispered, “I love you.”

~ november 4th 2023 ~

Music played throughout the room soft enough to still be able to hear the person next to you speaking, yet loud enough to keep conversations private. Dressed in all black, flowing pants and a long sleeved bodysuit, you walked throughout the room with your chin held high, eyes searching the place for a familiar face. You’d come with Sunny, but she was stolen away from you the second you stepped in the door.

The night was alive, this venue buzzing with excitement and happy vibes as people who were both close friends or acquaintances of Jungkook came together to celebrate his brand new album, Golden. After listening to him, and watching him work on this project for ages, it meant so much to be able to be a part of this night. He was the last one to put out any solo music, meaning this was a celebration for the end of an era, and you were not ready for the start of the next one.

The one where you’d have to do life without any one of the seven boys around.

Greeting a few familiar faces, and a few new ones who just started to pay attention to you this year because of what went down in February, you moved throughout the room with a sprinkle of attention on you. During Yoongi’s tour that you were very much involved with, your daughter included, your entrance into the media world exploded. After February and the announcement, of course word of his family spread like wildfire, but the tour brought it all to life.

Now that he was gone the people who spoke to you tonight gave you the sympathetic half smile and nod, asking you how you and Dae were holding up without him. To each and everyone of them, you’d grin and shrug, letting them know this was no different than him being on tour, or him going away for work. Time spent a part was the story of your life. Especially after the last three years with your daughter.

Though, you weren’t going to lie, this go around the time a part was rough. You aren’t able to call him whenever you please, nor was he able to jump on a plane, or get in a car and come home to you whenever he felt like he needed just twenty minutes of your time. He truly was absent, and it sucked. Your two year old didn’t understand it, though she was used to her father being away. That much she got, but when it came down to not being able to see him through a phone screen as often as she pleased, she became a pouty mess.

Within the last month Dae has definitely become more clingy than you’d have wanted, but you knew that was just because she was having some big feelings that she didn’t understand yet. Both you and Yoongi prayed that this wouldn’t have a large impact on her and her development as she got older, her father being gone for such a chunk of time in her early years of life. You made it a point to talk about him every single day, play his videos, play voicemails he left you in preparation for this, listen to his music, and show her pictures of them together.

It wasn’t a worry she’d forget about him, it was a worry that she’d forget how he loved her.

The two of you had just watched a video of him talking to her before you left the house to come to the party, the clip leaving you in tears. He was in his office sitting in the leather chair at his desk, his hair messy over his forehead and his eyes tired. The weeks before he left were brutal for you both. He spoke to her with intention, repeating on and on how much he loved her, and how much he missed her, that he was proud of her and that she would see him very soon.

He tried his hardest to not shed a tear, but it happened anyway, and in true Yoongi fashion he laughed it off. After speaking to Dae he turned his words to you, knowing you’d be watching with her. He didn’t do this every time, he left other things just for you, so it was a complete surprise. As expected, your husband declaring his love for you, in front of your daughter, left you in tears.

But, the story of your life, right?

Smoothing your hands over your middle, smiling at a group of girls walking past you who had bowed their heads, you approached the bar, finding exactly who you were looking for. The boy dressed in all white towered over you, the view of his back from behind unbelievable. He stood next to Namjoon who was just as tall as him, but not nearly as wide. The maknae passed him a while ago.

Pushing between both of them, just below their shoulders, a smile pulled at your lips as they stepped away from you, then gasped once they realized it was you.

“Honey!” Namjoon cheered, slinging an arm around your back to give you a hug. Throwing both of your arms around his broad shoulders, you pulled him close and squeezed him, standing on your tiptoes.

“Hi,” you said quietly, pecking a quick kiss to his cheek. “Missed you guys,” you sighed, turning to Jungkook who waited patiently for his hug. “You’re all too busy now.” You barely had your arms around him before Jungkook was lifting you off the floor, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Kook!” you giggled. “Put me down, I’m fragile!”

“Fragile,” he laughed, following directions, making sure you were balanced in your black boots before he let go of you. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he smiled at you, one that was all too big.

“Me too,” you returned the smile and snatched his hand, giving it a squeeze.

“How’s the baby?” Namjoon asked, leaning against the bar with an elbow. Whirling around, you shot him a wide eyed look. “Dae?” His smile relieved almost every nerve that sparked in your heart.

“Dae,” you breathed. “She’s amazing.” The boys smiled, always happy to hear you speak of your daughter. “She’s… doing her best right now. We both are. She misses him.”

Namjoon pursed his lips and gave you the sympathetic nod so many other people have already given you. “Understandable,” he said. “It’s tough.”

“It is,” you shrugged. “But, we knew it was coming, so I’m… somewhat alright. It’s just hard to try to explain it to a two year old.”

A bartender sped by the back of the bar to refill glasses with Golden etched on them, placing down new ones for those who had just shown up, you included. Champagne bubbled in the glass that you were definitely heading home with. Jungkook grabbed two, holding one out for you to take.

“We’re not sad today,” he grinned. Glancing at the glass, you gulped and looked up at him.

“I’m not gonna drink, Kook,” you said quietly. Namjoon, already downing half his glass, perked a brow.

Jungkook nodded and turned toward the bar to place the glass down, but then froze, facing you without doing so. “Wait, hang on,” he said. “Where’s she at?” His eyes narrowed.

“Sunny?” you questioned. “Somewhere around here, I think-”

“No,” he cut you off, grilling you with his gaze. “Dae.”

A nervous laugh escaped you. “Kook, she’s not here.”

“Liar, where is she?” He did a once over of the room, his hardened gaze falling upon you again.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “She’s at home, probably begging Branson to play that god awful song you made about ejaculating on someone's face.” Behind you Namjoon lost his mind, nearly spitting out his drink. You shot him a look over your shoulder. “You’re not off the hook Mr. Smoke Sprite.”

Jungkook would have laughed if his jaw hadn’t fallen open in shock, a big ol’ smile behind it all. “She doesn’t like that song.” His whisper was laced with disappointment, eyebrows twisting into a knot in the center of his forehead.

Thinning out your lips, you nodded. “Loves it, Jungkook. She loves it.”

“Oh no,” he groaned, rolling his head back, taking a gulp of champagne. “Don’t let her listen to it, not my girl.”

“Now, whenever you feel like making a song like that ever again, you think about her,” you started to smile, knowing your words would make an impact. “You want someone to treat her like that when she’s all grown up?”

He scrunched his nose and pouted at you. “No,” he mumbled.

“Exactly,” you nodded once and took the champagne glass from him, taking a sip before stopping dead in your tracks. Processing your situation, Namjoon and Jungkook sandwiching you at the crowded bar, there really was no way for you to be sneaky about this. With the glass in your hand, you sideyed them both, a mouthful of champagne marinating on your tongue. Closing your eyes, you took a breath and accepted your fate, a stream of champagne falling from your lips back into the glass in your hands.

“I knew it,” Namjoon muttered. You could hear the smugness written all over his face. You gave him the quickest look without giving anything away, and turned to Jungkook whose face was screwed up, completely confused.

“Just drink it, Hon,” he laughed. “Dae’s home, you’re here to be you, you don’t have to worry about…” Voice trailing off, he paused and eyed you curiously. Then it all seemed to click at once. “Are you lying?” Testing the waters, he held in his jitters, but you could see it all building up beneath the surface. “You’re ly- Shit, no you wouldn’t do that… You’re… Honey, you swear?”

Taking a long deep breath, you placed your glass on the bar and shrugged your shoulders. He exhaled heavily, a single laugh coming out with it. He held his arms out at his sides, putting his own glass down, trying to gauge how you were feeling by your body language. Namjoons eyes flickered between the two of you, allowing you your moment before he stepped in.

“It’s, like… brand new. Really brand new,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Sunny knows, but that’s it. I’m not trying to… get anyones hopes up.” Speaking carefully, like you were warning them, Namjoon was the only one to nod in respect for what you had said. Jungkook understood of course, but his heart always got the best of him first. “I found out three weeks ago, I’m barely two months in.”

“Holy shit,” Jungkook whispered, pulling you into his arms. He shared a look with Namjoon, one you thankfully couldn’t see, a slightly worried one. Laying your head on his chest, the chains he wore cold against your cheek, you closed your eyes and let his hands on your back soothe some of the anxiety you’d been feeling since you saw the two little lines in your bathroom back in October. “I’m so happy for you, Honey.”

“Thanks, Kookie,” you said, painting a smile on your lips. “I haven’t been able to say the words yet,” you admitted, pulling back from him. Hugging Namjoon who congratulated you quietly, you couldn’t help but laugh. “Thirty years old and I can’t say the words.”

“That’s okay,” Namjoon said, embodying the word empathy.

Letting his calm, peaceful aura bleed into yours, you bobbed your head. “It is okay,” you repeated, not allowing you to gaslight yourself. Averting your gaze to the bar you shrugged your shoulders once more. “I just hope I have the courage to say them to him.” The boys were quiet, focused on you, listening intently. “It’s a shitty time for this to happen, I think, but not in the sense that… Well, you know what I mean?”

“Course,” Jungkook said, brows pointed.

“It’s just with Dae already having a hard time, Yoongi having a hard time, me, myself having a hard time,” you paused to collect your thoughts, squinting down at the wood. “What we just went through not even a year ago? I am just freaked the absolute fuck out that I’m going to go through it alone this time.”

“You can’t do that to yourself,” Namjoon spoke with ease. “Don’t add any more stress onto this. Timing may not be ideal, but it never was for you guys. If anything… this is right on point.”

“Shit, Joon.” The words tumbled from your lips in an exasperated burst. Throwing your arms back around him, you held him tight. All it took were two simple sentences to almost flip your mentality completely. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“I was totally thinking the same thing, by the way,” Jungkook said, making you smile. Turning toward him, he had his arms open waiting for you to jump back into them. Falling right into the trap, you pulled him close and kissed him on the cheek.

“I love you guys,” you said, grabbing both of them by the arm, giving them a small shake. “Keep it a secret, yeah? No telling boyfriends.” You narrowed your eyes and pointed at them playfully.

Namjoon lowered his head with a chuckle and raised his glass in promise. Jungkook rolled his eyes and took a large gulp from his glass. “What boyfriend?”

“Oh, come on,” you sang, tilting your head to the side. Jungkook settled his gaze on the party, eyes scanning the room with, you now notice, anticipation. “Kookie, don't do that to yourself.”

After another swig of his drink he twisted around to face the bar and smirked. “Promise I’m not a masochist… Even though he’s already got a song.”

“Hon-naaay!” Jimin’s high pitched, full of energy, singsongy voice flooded the air. Jungkook shot you a look over his shoulder as you pouted your lips at the same time.

Shooting your best smile at a now blonde Jimin you opened your arms, ready for him to fall into them dramatically as he would, but he stopped short. His own smile faded on his lips, to something soft while he looked you over, and it was like you could see the gears turning in his head. He held a glass of champagne in a Golden glass in one hand and the other found sanctuary on his hip.

“Hi, pretty,” you said in a voice you would use while talking to Dae. Jimin didn’t crack, he was honed in on you. Dropping your arms, letting them fold over your chest, you tilted your head to the side in question, though you weren’t sure you wanted, or were ready, for him to respond.

In touch with his femininity a thousand times more than the others, the way his eyes scanned over you flipped your stomach. Jimin, like a woman, moved through his day to day like he was in touch with the moon, being guided through life by the space being without even knowing so. He made it through his days subconsciously following the twenty-eight day cycle a woman's subconsciousness was wired to.

He figured you out with one look.

Taking you in his arms tight, his head laying on top of yours, he sucked in a breath and released it with his words. “Hi, pretty.” Leaning back a bit, your lips parted to say something, but Jimin took a finger to your jaw to shut it. Then, he tapped your closed lips once and shook his head gently. He didn’t need the words.

“Taehyung not attached to you?” Namjoon asked, sipping his glass with composure, his curious eyes flickering over to Jungkook a couple times.

Jimin pulled away from you and shrugged. “He was, he probably found something better.”

You weren’t positive, but you’re certain Jungkook mumbled, “Impossible,” under his breath.

“Sunny came with me,” you spoke up quickly to muffle anything else that would come out of the boy's mouth whether or not he had intentions of anyone hearing him. “He might be with her.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed. “Mmm,” he hummed, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, she was hanging around Mingyu last time I passed her.” The name spewed confidently from his mouth, a subtle look of shock something you all shared, even Jungkook.

“Tell her she won’t have any luck,” Jungkook grumbled, having not turned away from the bar once. He hasn’t looked at Jimin since he arrived over here.

Swatting your hand at his shoulder with disappointment, Jimin gave him a somber look, the empath in him you knew was hurting too. Namjoon watched the scene ensue peacefully, waiting patiently for his moment to step in, if needed. They haven’t been a proper group for months, but that didn’t mean those dynamics were erased.

“Sunny is dating somebody, Kookie,” you said. “You know that. She wouldn’t ever hurt him.”

“Jin,” Jungkook said, finally turning around. “We can say his name. Jin. They may hate talking about it, but we can. Besides, he’s been away for so long now, bet she misses him. Not surprised she’d go for the biggest guy in the room.”

“Jungkook,” Namjoon chimed in, his glare one you never wanted to be on the receiving end of. The rest of the youngests second glass, that you’ve been around for, went down easy.

“I’m just saying,” he laughed to himself.

Both you and Jimin watched him in shock. Words like that, implying what he was implying, have never come out of Jungkook, nor has he ever thought them up before. The implication that Sunny would be untrue to Jin, that one’s partner being away for an extended period of time meant that everyone acquired, or wanted to act upon these thoughts.

“What does that say about me?” you asked, looking up at him, remembering the days of when he was a mere few inches taller than you.

“What are you talking about?” he shrugged sloppily. You could feel Jimin’s gaze watching you.

“I’ve spent more time away from Yoongi our entire relationship than Sunny has from Jin in the last year or so,” you said. “And I’m about to do it for another two-ish years.” Jungkook was silent. “In fact, until Jin comes back next summer, I’ll be without all of you. So, pick someone for me, Jungkook.” The boy didn’t move. “If we’re comparing sizes, who’ve you got?” A quick glance at Jimin. “Taemin?” A quick glance at Jungkook. “Jay?”

“From Enhypen?” Namjoon chimed in again. Cringing, you looked at him for a second.

“He’s a baby, nevermind,” you muttered.

“He’s also like, six feet tall,” Namjoon chuckled.

“Oh, I know,” you tapped Jungkook’s white jacket, “Your Seventeen boy can hook me up, it’s Jeonghan right? Always has longer hair? Think he’ll be into me?” Jimin held in a laugh, turning to keep it hidden. Jungkook sighed. “I’m married, I got one kid and another on the way, let’s see how well he plays daddy, huh?”

“Okay, I get it,” Jungkook breathed.

“Jeonghan’s got that broodiness about him, right Joon?” Glancing over your shoulder, the eldest in the vicinity nodded without entertaining you with a smile. “He’ll fulfill the stereotype, it’s perfect! Dae might not even notice it’s-“

“Okay!” Jungkook turned up the volume, a couple party goers looking his way as they passed by. “I’m sorry! Jesus Christ, Honey.”

Pressing your lips together you smoothed a hand over his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, leaning in toward him. “I get you’re hurting,” you said just for him to hear. “But you keep bleeding onto everybody else, and that’s not fair. I love you, but saying stuff like that will only hurt others. Imagine if Jin heard that. He’s been in love almost as long as you, Kookie.”

The way he looked at you put a knife through your heart. “How do I fix it?”

“A lot has changed in the last year and a half. Really fast, too.” Wrapping your arm around his, you held him close. “We’re all adjusting in our own way, it’s a really weird place to be in. I mean… I have to go home with Jeonghan now.” He cracked a laugh, thankfully.

“You guys would pair up nicely.”

“Kookie, hush,” you laughed, shaking his arm. “You’re both about to go through a bigger change, together. Even if you can’t be… together, at least you can be together.” You squinted, hoping any of that made sense to the twenty-six year old.

He started to nod, easing some of the tension settling within your chest. “I get it.” He looked at Jimin briefly, who had taken a spot beside Namjoon, the two whispering about who knows what, and you wonder if it’s related to what you’re talking about now. “I’ll be with him most of the time too, until we get to Hobi, so…”

Your eyes widened as his did. “Hobi,” you both groaned together, falling into giggles shortly after.

“You’re really gonna need each other if you have to deal with him,” you said. “He’s a drill sergeant in rehearsals, good luck with him in the military!” Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head with a laugh. “I only wish you guys would get to see more of Yoongi,” you said after a breath.

Jungkook met your eyes, then his gaze traveled to the party behind you, a small smile pricking on his lips. “We’ll still get to see him, Honey.”

Toying with a zipper on his jacket you shrugged and took a deep breath. “I know, but I mean… I wish he got to be with you guys the whole time. He was worried about…” Looking up at him you paused, pressed your lips together with a smile, then shook your head. “Nevermind.”

Jungkook didn’t push on the matter, instead he bobbed his head in understanding and then ushered you to turn around in his arms. “Surprise.”

If your heart had the possibility to burst into flames, it would’ve. Swelling within your chest, your heart rate skyrocketing beyond belief, you didn’t even have the means to gasp in utter shock. Frozen where you stood, Jungkook's hands slipping off your shoulders, the three falling into quiet giggles, you couldn’t process any of it.

Dressed in all black, down to the thick knitted beanie on top of his head and the sneakers on his feet, Yoongi, with Taehyung's arm linked in his, had the tiniest smile on his lips as he came toward you.

“I come bearing gifts!” Taehyung cheered, giving Yoongi a small push closer to you.

Words escaped you, your mind unable to string any letters together to say something to him. Instead, you tipped your head backward and burst into tears.

A laugh slipped past his lips. He knew that was coming. Following your lead, he waited for you, and when you opened your arms he fell right in, scooping you off the floor, burying his face in your neck.

“Hey! Careful, she’s frag-…” Jungkook’s voice tapered off quickly, his focus landing elsewhere, his lips pursed nonchalantly.

His words barely registered with either of you. There was very little anyone could say or do in this moment that would take away from the man you held in your arms.

Back on your feet you wasted little time, wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close into a kiss, one long and entirely overdue.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

Yoongi’s gaze ate away at your face, his eyes studying you completely. “I wanted a drink,” he shrugged, and you smacked his chest with your hands, a smile corrupting you. He smirked. “Came to see my girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Don’t tell Jungkook.”

“He knows,” the youngest said from behind you. Yoongi laughed, and your heart was squeezed between your lungs, the beautiful sound warming your skin.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, you couldn’t believe that he was standing here in front of you, holding you, kissing you, smiling at you. It’d been a month and twelve days since you last saw him, since he held your daughter, and that thought fueled the tears that fell.

A month and twelve days has happened before, unfortunately a couple more days longer than this, but it made that reunion all the more sweeter. Of course that was before Dae, before marriage, so it didn’t cut as deep, but it was still hard. Holding onto him now, knowing your daughter was snug at home in the house you built together, unsure if whether or not he was able to come see her, you felt the need to squeeze him tighter, like your grip around him would keep him stuck here forever, and they’d never be able to take him again.

Wiping the tears off of your cheeks with his thumbs, he kissed the tip of your nose and tried to twist you in his arms so you could both face your friends, but you wouldn’t budge. Laying your head on his chest as he tried to move, you heard him huff a laugh toward you trying to occupy the same space as him.

Your subconscious was screaming at you. The inner workings of your natural biology, your primal instincts if you will, were firing off like crazy, keeping you latched onto him. You needed him. And not in the way one would assume.

You needed his attention. You needed his care. You needed his protection, his energy, his love, his support.

Most reunions looked something like this, you and Yoongi unable to take your hands off one another, but this one was different. You were clingy, nearly shutting off your brain entirely because he was in the room and you didn’t need to do any of the thinking. The party became a distant noise to you, something you weren’t even worried about anymore, same for your friends behind you.

You felt Yoongi looking down at you, and when you tipped your chin up to meet his knowing gaze, the way you bat your eyelashes had him whisking you away to someplace quiet, a different room vacant of all people. He found a couch in the dimly lit room, a sitting area formed in front of a smaller, empty bar. Sitting you beside him, he smiled as you tried to crawl into his lap.

“Hi,” he whispered in the quiet, brushing his fingers over your cheek. Your arms found their way around his neck again.

Your gaze danced about his face, taking in every inch, every little imperfection, memorizing more so than you already have. “Hi,” you whispered back. The two of you watched one another for a minute, the music from the main party room thumping against the walls, laughter and happy chatter ringing just below it. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said without missing a beat. “Dae’s not here, right?”

Gulping, you nodded. “She’s at home,” you mumbled. “Can you come see her?”

Yoongi flattened his lips. “I dunno.”

Your grip around him tightened. “S’okay,” you tried to smile. “She asks for you everyday.” Tears welled in his eyes, ones he blinked away. “When we’re not listening to 3D she asks for your songs.”

“3D,” Yoongi groaned, rolling his head back against your arms. “Still?”

“Still,” you deadpanned, and once he caught a look at you, you both broke into a laugh. “I gave him a talk, don’t worry.”

Yoongi sighed, shaking his head. “Nothing gets through his head now, Park scrambled it all up.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “They’ll be okay, though. I hope.”

Yoongi’s nod was solemn before he drug a finger beneath your jaw. “How ‘bout you? You okay?” The bad electricity sparkled in your veins, enough of a twinge to make you shift on his lap.

“I’m okay,” you said without an ounce of confidence. His smile was slick, his fingers dragging down the side of your neck now.

“Why you gonna lie?”

“I’m not,” your half shrug didn’t convince him.

Narrowing his eyes, his gaze somehow softened at the same time. “Honey,” he crooned, his voice like velvet. “Talk to me.”

“I’m…” You were hesitant, cutting yourself short right when the words were about to tumble out of you full force. He waited patiently. Swallowing the lump that lodged in your throat, hoping to ease the nausea that started to fester within you, you nodded, small, and whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

His expression didn’t change, didn’t falter, didn’t exhibit any signs of any other emotion other than patience. He only managed to whisper, “Yes you are.”

Your brows plummeted. “Who opened their mouth?”

Yoongi massaged the back of your neck with his fingers, sighing. “No one, Honey, it’s just…” he glanced between you, gesturing to how close you were to him. “You only get like this when you’re carrying one of my kids.”

Blinking, you purse your lips. “Do not.”

He laughed, bobbing his head. “Do to, it’s happened twice before.”

The words turned your skin to ice, Yoongi taking note of the utter fear that washed over you. Sliding his hand over the back of your head, he laid you on his shoulder, pressing his cheek to your forehead, taking a long deep breath. For a few minutes you both relished in the quiet, admiring the party from afar, the touch of one another enough to clearly communicate what you were both feeling.

Nobody knew what had happened in detail aside from Sunny and the boys. Branson knew bits and pieces, he was around for that week, helping to take care of Dae and the house if nobody else was able to. Not one of them talked about it. Even if you were to bring it up somehow, they didn’t linger on the topic long. It was for you and Yoongi to discuss, to share, to have. He was your son, you were the only two to ever know him.

“You don’t wanna know what I’ve thought about already,” you said. Yoongi gave your head a gentle scratch.

“Probably the same things I’m thinking right now,” he whispered. Looking up at him, his face still radiated patience, a calmness that radiated to you, though you could see the worries spinning inside his head. Curious about it all, you know you might not need to hear it. The one thought that gutted you both… He wouldn’t be here this time. “Mother fucker,” he mumbled, shifting his focus to you.

“Let me hear it,” you said.

“No, it’s just…” He collected his thoughts for a second, a laugh escaping him. “How is it this possible that we’ve got such… exquisite timing?!” He started to make you laugh. “You’d think by thirty we’d have it figured out, right? What’s wrong with us, babe!” Giggles galore. “At twenty-seven, the proposal planned, did it happen? Nope! Global pandemic and major surgery. Twenty-eight, my third album almost done, your projects lined up waiting for you, did they happen? Nope! We had a baby instead. Twenty-nine… You somehow say yes to marrying me. I think, finally, we’ll plan the wedding of your dreams. Did it happen?”

“Yes,” you chimed in, watching him in awe. He shot you a small smile with a wink.

“Thanks for that,” he breathed. “But, then the hiatus came, and the lawyers for the restraining order, and Dae turned one, and you were pregnant again, and I knew the announcement was coming after the Busan show, and…”

“And then we got married,” you said, sitting up to hold his face between your hands, delicately dancing your thumbs over his cheeks. “Saturday, November fifth. The most perfect day that happened a year ago, tomorrow.” He smiled, his cheeks squishing in your grip. “The trees were yellow, and orange, and bright and beautiful. The breeze held off until we finally kissed, making sure our guests were warmed by the sun before Autumn made an appearance.”

“Dae pulled the bow out of her hair during our vows,” he said, and you both laughed.

“She is her mothers daughter,” you raised your eyebrows with pride. “I warned Sunny, I really did.” His smile settled, eyes gleaming with a sappiness that tugged at your tears. “It was the most wonderful day, D. Everyone was there, even your little boy.” A sudden breath shot through you. “Then, yanno, Jin left, and we had a month or so to pull ourselves together before I was thrown to the wolves.”

“It wasn’t enough time,” he muttered, and you nodded.

“I agree,” you whispered. “But, we made it. And after Hobi left we went on tour, and fuck, D, talk about the most amazing three months.”

“That really was the best,” he grinned. “Having you both there with me, jeez.” A happy roll of his eyes made you smile back at him.

“Dae had more fun than either of us,” you scoffed.

“She sure did,” Yoongi said. “Remember the show Hope and Jin came to?”

“Of course I do,” you said. “That was the last one.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, a longing look spreading to his eyes. Questioning him with a small sound, he smirked. “It’s just… that show, that night… I thought, this is it. Thirty years of my life and I’ve got everything I’ve always dreamed of, everything I’ve always wanted, everything I could possibly need. You, Dae, the boys, Army… You.”

The tears were falling now, you could feel them.

“After everything we’ve been through, all that life has thrown at us- no, catapulted at us,” you both shared a laugh, “Onstage, I couldn’t help but realize, and recognize… Holy shit, we made it.” He wiped your tears, kissing your cheek. “And, I don’t give a fuck, Honey, we’ll make it again. And again. And again, goddammit. Unbelievably bad, shitty, fucked up timing is who we are. Since the start. July sixteenth, twenty fifteen.”

“A New York curb,” you whispered.

Yoongi beamed. “A dangerous New York curb,” he snickered. “Making people fall in love and shit?” A laugh came out of you within a breath, only Yoongi able to make you laugh and cry at the same time.

“Namjoon said something earlier,” you sniffled, taking his hands within your own. “Like what you just said, how the timing isn’t ideal, but that’s who we are. That this is right on point.”

Yoongi let your words sink in, let his leader's words sink in, comforting him the same way they did you. “He’s right. He’s always right.”

“Unfortunately,” you joked and he cackled. “The only thing that’s keeping me from going totally insane is knowing that by June Jin will be here. Regardless of what schedules he’ll be involved with, if any, he’ll be here. Accessible.”

“That makes me feel better, too,” he sighed, then licked his lips. “How… How far are you? Do you know? When did you find out?” The questions tumbled out of him at lightning speed, each answer you had for him getting lost between each one.

After a giggle, you said, “October eleventh, I found out. Dae was dancing around our room, she left me to do it all alone, the stinker. 3D is more important to her, I guess.” Yoongi scoffed. “I wasn’t feeling so good, thought it was just leftover nerves after you leaving, thought I was late for the same reasons, but when I checked I was really late, so I took the test just to be safe. There were no hopes up or anything, no nerves because I really didn’t think it’d be positive…”

Yoongi listened with intent. “Didn’t think it would be, or didn’t want it to be?” He asked you genuinely, no discomfort wrapped around the question at all.

“I kept thinking… if this is positive, then what the actual hell am I going to do?” He nodded, his hands holding you carefully. “We didn’t say what we’d do, because we didn’t think this would happen. D, we need to start putting together plans ‘cause at this point I’m starting to think you could sneeze on me and I’d get pregnant, and if timing isn’t our thing then we need to be prepared for it all.”

Swiping his thumb over your lips he smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?” Giving you the smallest kiss, he said, “We could plan out every last little detail, babe, and I can ensure you, somehow, someway, the universe would laugh in our faces. Loud.”

He was right. Even on the day of your wedding, the most planned out day of your life, things went askew. The birth of your daughter didn’t go to plan, that entire fiasco turned into a legitimate emergency. You could have every detail splayed out, even the fine writing between the lines, and life would find a way to toss the cue cards in the air, laughing as it did.

“This is a blessing,” Yoongi said, his voice shifting to something soft. “And, entirely on time for us, as fucked as that may sound.”

“It does make sense, doesn’t it,” you agreed. Sitting here with him, reviewing your lives, this brand new little one seemed to fit right into the insanity. The tiniest spark of hope ignited inside of you, one that you were nervous to share with your husband, but you were certain that he could feel it too.

You both wanted a second child, you wanted Dae to have a sibling, a sister or a brother. The two of you realized during your first pregnancy and throughout Dae’s first year of life that you wanted multiple, more than two. However, after the last year you were content with just one more. If there were anymore to follow, so be it, but this second one was a must.

Deep within both of you you knew that this child would be your third, and that would be something you held close to your heart for the rest of your lives, letting Dae and your future children know that they once had a brother who loved them too much that he had to find solace within the clouds, so he could watch over and protect his family.

Yoongi nodded, slowly, knowing exactly what was going through your mind. As a tear slipped down his cheek he threw his arms around you and rocked side to side, pressing a hundred kisses to your shoulder. His lips traveled up your neck, making you giggle, until they found your lips, kissing you slowly, drinking this moment up, the both of you wishing you could drown in it.

“An August baby,” Yoongi whispered, pulling from you with a breath. You smiled.

“An August baby,” you repeated. “The end of summer’s gonna get real busy for us.” Yoongi’s smile grew, it grew so big he had to laugh.

“Oh my god,” he exhaled, his words barely audible. He kissed you, and then he kissed you again. “I love you so much.”

Letting your hand fall down to his left shoulder, you gave him the gentlest squeeze, and smiled. “I love you too, D.”

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months

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Firefighter Friends

Requested Here! This was requested as a part 2, but I made it a prequel to Firefighters: Friend or Foe!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!wife!firefighter!reader (these keep getting longer)

Summary: After you become a firefighter, your friends convince you to make a funny video. Tim walks in while you're filming and finds a new reason to tease you.

Warnings: fluffy fluff! OC firefighter Jay flirts with Lucy, mentions of pregnancy at the end.

Word Count: 1.9k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (the look on his face when he finds his wife filming the video)

“You can’t hide forever. I’ll figure out what you’re lying about eventually.”

Huffing, you press your face closer to Tim’s neck. His arms are around you, so you know he’s just trying to tease you, but you’re not sure how to tell him.

“If you don’t love me anymore, just say so,” Tim continues.

“I got a new job,” you whisper.

“What?” Tim asks, gently pushing you away to look at you. “When? Where?”

“I got a new job; I’ve been working on it for a while. Just… didn’t know how to tell you I guess.”

“How long is ‘a while’?”

You mumble your answer, looking down so Tim can’t hear you. He taps a knuckle under your chin, his eyes steady on you.

“A few years.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s amazing! It’s amazing, right?”

“You won’t think so.”

Tim raises your left hand, pointing to the wedding ring on your finger. “This means I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Stop,” you plead. “I’ve been working toward becoming a firefighter.”

“Did Darry put you up to this? I knew he was a bad example,” Tim replies.

“Tim, I’ve been… I seriously want to be a firefighter. To do some good.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant it like that. Tell me more?”

Tim nudges his hand between your cheek and shoulder, attempting to ease your shyness and encourage you to stop hiding from him. You shrug your other shoulder, leaning toward Tim.

“I finished training a few weeks ago, passed the qualifications and everything, but there weren’t any openings,” you begin. “Until Darry’s chief retired and one of his team members got promoted.”

“And you took his job? Well done.”

“You’re not going to leave me now that I’m a firefighter?” you ask softly.

“Are you kidding? If I can make you this shy just by being your husband, imagine the possibilities when we’re rivals at work.”

You groan, attempting to climb off Tim’s lap, but he holds you in place, laughing as you turn away. Becoming a firefighter, accomplishing one of your dreams, is a big deal, but you’re already starting to regret it.

“I’ll ask Bailey for pointers,” you murmur.

“Sure, you will.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“LAPD’s meeting us there,” Jay announces as the fire engine turns out of the station. “Bank robbery gone wrong and a fire broke out.”

“Where’s the bank? Please tell me it’s in Mid-Wilshire,” Darry replies, glancing at you.

“It is…” Jay pauses to check the map before finishing, “in Mid-Wilshire.”

“He’s not going to be there,” you tell Darry. “And stop.”

“But it’s fun!” Darry and Jay cheer together.

Darry and Jay are two of your best friends. They’ve been by your side through everything, and now that you are a firefighter, you like knowing that they have your back. Despite their constant teasing and efforts to make you shy, they support you in everything, and when you’re in your turnout gear, they are your equals. But not a moment before.

“I know you think Tim is hot,” Darry begins.

“Think?” Jay scoffs.

“But the goal is to put out the actual fire. Need you to remember that.”

Darry bumps his fist against your shoulder, but you look toward the window. If Tim is there, you will do your job and then deal with him. Most people don’t view running into their spouses as something to be dealt with; most people aren’t married to Tim Bradford, having to spend every moment fighting not to let him get to you. You love him, and he loves you, but your shyness is an invitation to him.

“Maybe you should just ignore him,” Jay recommends. “Like the dirty, no-good cop he is.”

“The day this one can ignore Tim Bradford is the day I-“

“We’re here,” you interrupt. “Sorry for this conversation to end, though,” you add.

“It’d be nice if she was as shy with us as she is with the husband,” Darry tells Jay.

“Hey, I’m Officer Lucy Chen. We were the first responders.” She looks over at you and smiles.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Officer Chen,” Jay replies, smiling as he leans against the truck.

“You’re blocking the hose, Jay,” you tell him, gently pushing him out of the way.

“Maybe we could talk after then.”

“Sure,” Lucy answers with a laugh. “Fire takes precedence though, right?”

“One would think,” you grunt, pulling the hose toward Darry.

The fire roars and Jay jumps to action, helping the rest of your team put it out. All bank employees and customers were out before you arrived, so saving the building and the block is your priority. Keeping your eyes away from the crowd to avoid finding Tim is included in that, of course.

✯✯✯✯✯

“No way!” Lucy exclaims when she sees Jay take off his helmet. “I follow you on TikTok!”

“You’re kidding,” Jay replies. “Do you have a favorite dance? I’m trying to convince my friends to do one in turnout gear, but they won’t.”

“I’ve been trying to get Officer Bradford to dance with me, but he threatens to get me fired every time I ask!”

“Oh, I know someone who can convince Bradford.”

“Jay!” Tim yells. “Do not bring my wife into this!”

You shake your head as Tim approaches you, his eyes roaming over you to ensure everything is okay.

“Wait, that’s his wife?” Lucy asks behind you.

“Boot! Find something to do.” Tim watches her leave, then turns back to you and smiles. “Maybe there is a future for firefighters.”

“I’ll see you at home tonight?” you ask, changing the subject.

“Not if you keep up the shy act and can’t look me in the eye.”

Dipping your chin, you ignore Tim’s chuckle. He hugs you quickly, whispering a half-true apology before returning to his shop.

“We need to get back to the station now,” Jay calls. “It’s urgent.”

You climb into the truck beside Darry, but Jay won’t give any additional information.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What was so urgent?” Darry asks.

“No, keep the gear on,” Jay says as you begin unhooking your coat. “We need to do this.”

He raises his phone, showing a video of three people dancing together.

“You made us rush back here to dance with you?” Darry asks.

“Not just dance, no. Our video will be way better. I think we dance in a few clips, then play with the hoses, just show the internet how cool firefighters are.”

“Uh, I’m out,” you interrupt. “Being on camera isn’t my thing.”

“Keep the helmet on,” Jay answers with a shrug.

“Jay,” Darry sighs, rubbing his hand over his jaw. “This is the only good idea you may ever have. I’m in. She is too.”

“Excuse me?” you ask, but they begin planning what to do rather than looping you in.

“And we turn the lights on, of course,” Jay adds.

“Oh, yes!”

“Guys!” you yell. “What do you want me to do?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim rolls his head to the side, cracking his neck as he climbs into his truck. He looks at the clock and smiles when he realizes he has time to surprise you before you leave the fire station. He drives to the station but freezes when he walks inside.

The interior lights are off except for the lights on the engines. Two of them are parked side by side, and there’s music playing. What really catches Tim’s attention is the firefighters dancing and playing jump rope in the flashing lights.

✯✯✯✯✯

Jay turns on his music, and you begin dancing and playing with him and Darry while his phone records everything. His official instructions were, “Have fun! I’ll edit it later.”

As you climb onto Darry and Jay’s backs, topping a pyramid, you feel like someone is watching you, but you’re having so much fun that you don’t stop. Darry says your name as he picks up one end of the hose. Jay swings the other end, and you rush to stand between them, jumping over the hose every time it skims the floor.

“Dance break!” Jay yells, lining up behind you and Darry for a choreographed dance.

They grab your arms at the end, and you jump, kicking your feet up before swinging back. You giggle as the music ends, leaning over to catch your breath. A slow clapping brings your attention back up.

“Wow,” Tim calls slowly, leaning against a fire truck. “That was… something.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask softly, standing straight.

Jay and Darry remove their helmets, but you keep yours on to hide the embarrassed look on your face and the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Enjoy the show? We usually charge extra for cops, but the first visit’s free,” Jay teases, ending the video on his phone.

Tim nods slowly, his eyes still on you. “Are you gonna take the helmet off?”

You shake your head, pressing your gloved palms against your thighs.

“Do I need to come take it off?”

Shaking your head harder, you step backward. Tim looks at Darry, who shrugs before nodding. Tim takes a few long steps toward you, placing his palms under the sides of your helmet before lifting it over your head and tossing it to his left.

“Thank you,” Jay says as he catches the helmet.

“That was the cutest thing I have ever seen,” Tim says quietly, smiling as he holds your face toward him.

“Shut up,” you whisper.

“I came to surprise you before taking you home, but you surprised me.”

“Tim.”

Tim says your name, shaking his head. He points toward the locker room, and you drop your head to go change. You roll your eyes when you hear him start laughing.

As you exit the locker room, Tim is lying on the floor with Jay’s phone in his hand. He’s laughing so hard he can barely breathe, and Jay and Darry are leaning against the fire truck in a similar state.

“I’m quitting,” you call loudly.

Tim laughs louder at your bold claim, rolling to look at you. He copies one of your dance moves as he stands, reaching out for you. You miss him throughout the day, and that’s the only reason you accept his hug.

“I hate all of you,” you mumble against his shoulder.

“I’m sending the video to Lucy before I post it,” Jay announces.

“I’m moving to a foreign country and getting a nicer husband.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tim whispers in your ear.

“No, I don’t. As long as Jay doesn’t send you the TikTok link.”

“I did one better!” Jay yells. “I sent him the uncut original!”

You practically fall into Tim’s arms as you pretend to cry. Tim catches you, though he laughs the entire time he tells you how much he loves you.

✯✯ 8 Months Later ✯✯

You’ve been sitting in the same spot since you got home from your doctor’s appointment. Tim will be home soon, but you haven’t decided how to tell him. The door opens, and you look up, hoping to know when the time is right.

“Hey, we just got Darry’s wedding invite,” Tim says, tossing the envelope toward you. When he sees your face, he asks, “Are you okay?”

You swallow rather than answer, handing him the small printout. The ultrasound changes everything, including your job, but as Tim’s smile grows and he pulls you into his arms, you know you can handle all of it with Tim at your side.

#tim bradford x reader #shy!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #fem!reader #requests #team shy!

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fxrmuladaydreams · 2 months

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his door (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: you ask yourself which of the two men you can’t be without, and suddenly everything seems clearer

notes: are you guys excited for the finale??

prev part

You stayed at home for a few days after the incident with Daniel, too afraid to see him or Sebastian. You were ashamed to say the least. You thought filming a video would put you back in control. It was something you were good at, something you used to be so sure about. And yet you practically broke under the pressure.

You remember why you didn’t tangle yourself up with other pornstars, and why you kept your kissing rule to begin with. But they both made it so easy to fall for them.

Sebastian was gentle. He was caring towards you from the get go. He always made sure you were comfortable and sure of yourself when you were together. His flirty demeanor charmed you quickly, yet his sweet nature really pulled you in.

But he did push you away. He made it clear that he didn’t want a relationship, at least early on. He told you to talk to other people. He pushed you into Daniel’s arms.

And Daniel? He was the kindest soul you’d ever met. He opened his home to you, he told you about his dreams, and he made it clear that he wanted you by his side. But he had a possessive streak. He couldn’t stand when you were around Sebastian. He would get upset and cold.

You glance down at your phone and open your text messages.

You had gotten some from Daniel almost immediately after you’d left his house that day. He was very clearly worried about you, practically chasing you to his front door as you ran from his house.

Hey sweetheart, whatever happened, I’m sorry.

Please let me know that you’re alright.

I deleted the video, I didn’t want it anywhere after seeing how upset you were.

I’ll give you all the time you need to figure things out.

You leave your messages with Daniel, and open your messages with Sebastian. He’d texted you the next day.

Hi schatz, Daniel told me what happened, are you alright?

We’re both worried about you, but we’ll give you the space you need.

Let me know if you want to talk about anything.

You sigh, shutting off your phone and tossing it aside. You close your eyes and try to picture yourself with either of them. You think about how they make you feel, and what your life would be like with one and without the other.

You let yourself sink into the silence in your room, thinking about yourself. What makes you happy? Who makes you happy? Who would you want to give your heart to?

There’s one man that appears in your head when you ask yourself that question. All of the time you’ve spent together, getting to know each other, you realize he’s the one you want to be with.

You grab your keys and your phone and drive to his house. You get out of the car and walk slowly to the door, to his door. You’ve spent so much time here you feel like it’s already kind of another home to you. You take a deep breath. Is he going to let me in? After all the time I’ve made him wait? You ask yourself.

You shake the nerves from your hands, then knock on the door.

It opens after a few moments, he’s surprised to see you.

“Hi.”

“hi schatz”

“hey sweetheart”

#sebastian vettel x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula one x reader

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seris-circle · 11 months

Text

The Other Woman

Drew starkey x femreader

Summary: After seeing the most recent post of drew in Italy, y/n begins to worry about them and the distance.

Warnings: pregnancy, thoughts of cheating, swearing, angst, Odessa

Life wasn't too enjoyable as the june heat of california began to ramp up at the same time as the final stretch of the pregnancy. Swollen ankles and excess sweat, you were miserable. Drew not being there made it worse. Of course, your mother was there, but without drew to hold you like usual or dote on you every waking moment of the day, it left you feeling alone, especially in the most important weeks of your pregnancy.

Luckily, your best friend, Danica, was in town and visiting. Danica was there to stay with you during the times when your mother was out running errands or even just having a day to herself, like times like now. your mom had gone to the grocery store to get your most recent cravings.

This left you and Danica alone to reflect on life. After having lunch together they had spent the rest of the day lounging on the living room couch in the AC. Scrolling on their phones as most do in the company of others until Danica broke the silence.

“Ooh, would you look at who’s in Italy?” she said turning her phone towards you. She revealed an insta story of Odessa and her friend Tyler walking the streets of Rome.

“Good for her” you responded after looking at the post. then back to scrolling.

“Are you serious y/n/n, that doesn’t irritate you? Odessa does seem to have the reputation of being sus around drew.” Danica pressed. you huffed and looked up at Danica.

“Dee, it's fine. Drew loves me and he would be stupid to let her do anything. Even so, if she were to make a move on an engaged man that has a child on the way I… ” you choked on your words. It is known that Odessa gets close to most of her male friends, including Drew. After they had starred in a film together, she had been at every event that he was at to the point where fans believed that they were a thing. This sent a weird thought in your head and with the hormones wreaking havoc on your emotions, you began to tear up. Danica looked at you waiting for you to finish the sentence. “I would… I don’t know yet. It will come to me, but I shouldn’t have to because drew would never even think of doing that.” You finished. You then went to your phone and began sending a text to Drew.

‘Missing you soooo much right now.’

‘But this mix of baby and heat is really making me hate you for doing this to me’

You sent the texts giggling to yourself, putting your phone down and began rubbing your belly. The baby girl that occupied your womb was so close to arrival and you were cherishing every moment of it but couldn’t wait until you could hold her in your arms.

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Hours had passed and you arrived back home after shopping for babygirl’s nursery with Danica. Still no response back from Drew or even an answer to your Facetime to get his opinion on rocking chair pillows, you began to get some symptoms of worry, one being heartburn but one that gave a cramp near her heart. you tried washing that feeling away with the reasoning of time differences and the possibility of him still shooting to ease the worry. Some time though had passed since you had been in the store you tried again.

Settling yourself in your room upstairs away from your mother and Danica, you dialed Drew’s number on Facetime. Yeah, it was 2 in the morning his time but Drew was an insomniac and was most likely awake. After 3 rings, the call was answered.

“Hey baby” Drew yelled over loud music, clearly he was at a club, but he still answered.

“Hi,” you responded with a small smile. “How are you doing? You haven’t answered texts.”

“Yeah, sorry. My phone was on silent all day, shooting went late” he replied trying to apologize.

“You shot all day and you still went out? I’d think you’d at least want one of those trailer naps you love” You said trying to come off jokingly but there was lots of concern laced in your voice.

“Yeah but for some reason, I'm wired and a couple of the crew members wanted to get drinks. Forget about me, how are you and baby doing? Anything happen today?” He went on, looking around once in a while to scope his surroundings.

“We’re ok, I sent you a text about the heat but that's about it. I bought some pillows for her nursery and tried calling you about it but you didn't answer so I just grabbed all of them.” He could hear the slight irritation in your voice so he focused completely on the screen. “Danica’s still in town so we went out to lunch too, but I haven’t been able to eat and-” you were cut off by another person’s voice in the call. It was a woman's voice, a voice you knew a little too well. “Who’s that?” You asked.

“Mmmh?” Drew responded while he was looking straight ahead but about the camera rather than at the camera as if he was talking to someone else.

“Who is that girl that I hear? You're with someone, just tell me who” You said again. As he looked back at the camera bringing it down, another person pulled it from him. It was Odessa.

“OMG, hey y/n! What’s up?” Odessa said grabbing the phone from Drew to talk to you.

“Heyyy, oh nothing, just making a human all by myself over here.” You replied, clearly now pissed. You heard some mumbles clearly coming from Drew as he grabbed his phone back from her. Drew must have told her to walk away and wait for him somewhere because she said goodbye and then whispered something in his ear, laying a quick kiss on his cheek before walking off. It clearly made him uncomfortable since he had to cough before turning all his attention back to you on the other line.

“Sooo, Odessa found you. Cool” The tears that you had been holding back caused your voice to slightly crack. You would think being an actress would hone in on this skill but it didn’t.

“It's nothing, we ran into each other at the bar and she wanted to get a couple of drinks at this club she knew about. I was just about to get her car back to her hotel, that's why she left.” Drew said, he sounded sincere but something just wasn’t right in your eyes. He could sense it too. “Don’t be mad” he continued.

“Mad, why would I be mad? She is just your friend” you said feeling the gerd build up in your chest and the ache in your abdomen worsen. “Forget about it though, I’m not feeling the best so I’m going to take a nap and you can go back to whatever you were up to before I called,” you said in a snide tone.

“Babe don’t. Let's talk, are you feeling ok? Is the baby ok?” Drew pressed on, knowing you were upset and he hated letting you go to bed upset.

“Everything’s fine, just slightly achy and nauseous, but I’ll be fine. I will text you when I wake up in the morning. Goodnight” You said, hanging up the phone before he could say anything else. The tears all fled in when you shut the phone off. You drenched your pillow with the salty waters.

It was only 5pm but you cried so much, you were out for the night, or at least you thought so. It was about 2am when you were awoken from a sound sleep but the worst possible pain in your abdomen. It was the ache from before but like cranked to 1000. You couldn’t contain the pain to the point that when you got up to walk to the in suite bathroom, You fell to your knees. You cried for your mom and she rushed to you the moment she heard the noise from down the hall of the quiet house. She ran into the room cradling you in her arms and she stroked your hair to calm you down, Danica soon in after her as she had heard the stomps of her running from downstairs.

“Baby what’s wrong?” Your mother said concerned, still holding you like you were still her little girl.

“Mommy the pain, my abdomen!” You cried holding your bump. “Something is wrong with the baby” you continued through the deep breaths.

“Danica, call 911, she’s in labor” your mother said after she felt the small puddle that crowded you. “Honey, it’s time, we gotta go” your mother said to you softly trying to hold back her own tears.

“Noooo. It’s too early, I’m not due for another 5 weeks” you pushed out through sobs.

“I know baby, but your water broke and your pain is too bad not to do anything” she said trying to get you to move. “Now let’s try to get you back on the bed while the we wait for the paramedics to get here” she finished

“I can’t move, it hurts too much. Get Drew, you have to get drew?” You said now hysterical. She began picking you up, Danica assisting now that the paramedics were on their way.

“I will call him as soon as you get in good hands and I no longer have to be on high alert.” Your mother responded.

“Please, I want him” you moaned through your cries now on the bed unable to keep your head up. Your mother did her best to reassure you that everything was ok, calming you enough until the paramedics could get to you and to the hospital. While she did that, Danica called drew until she couldn’t anymore. Each time it went to voicemail, so she just left a text at that point. Here you are about to give birth to your first child while your fiancé and the father of your child is off in another continent doing god knows what with his “friend”.

To be continued….

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #obx #Spotify

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 5 months

Text

on tonight's episode of 'crushes with beefcake'... - nate mack

dad!nate x f!reader

summary: josh has some questions and nate jumps at the opportunity to tell a little story of his own

warnings: swearing, mentions the death of a grandparent, fluff (psa this is just a little palette cleanser fic thing, i had inspiration and i ran with it)

word count: 5.9k

It wasn’t very often that your son called a family meeting. In fact, in the entire history of people that had called a family meeting (excluding little Leyla), he’d never called a family meeting. He frowned upon them. Groaned at the words and sulked the entire way through them – as most ten year olds probably did.

Which was why, after putting him to bed and after you and Nate had both wandered back downstairs to watch a film, it was a shock to hear a pair of determined footsteps echo down the stairs with a clear purpose. The only thing more shocking was when he stood in front of you both, brows knitted together and a nervous frown on his face, and the words “I want to declare a family meeting right now” tumbled out of his mouth.

You’d blinked and Nate had sat up, removing his legs from where he’d draped them across yours. And when Josh turned around and strolled into the dining room, dragging a chair back out behind him, you shared a curious look with Nate – who looked as though he couldn’t decide if he should laugh or be worried.

And then you had to swallow a laugh and put on a serious face when Josh placed the chair in the middle of the living room, facing the both of you and lacing his hands together.

“It feels like we’re about to get therapized by our kid.” Nate muttered under his breath, and you swore you could feel your mom-face slip for a moment.

“Or it’s an intervention. Did we do something wrong?” You whispered back.

You felt Nate pause and then tense.

Josh was oblivious, trying to adjust his seating position on the chair to find a comfier one, and probably also trying to stall because of the suddenly tense atmosphere that had enveloped the room.

Nate shuffled closer to you, his bicep and thigh touching yours, partly to reassure himself and partly to get closer so he could whisper into your ear without the risk of being heard, “What if he heard us?”

You inhaled, your stomach dropping unpleasantly. It had been one of your fears as a parent – the idea of scarring your kid in that way was absolutely mortifying. You had friends that had unfortunately experienced it, and there were a few choice words thrown around, so even the mere thought that Josh could have…it was enough to make you squirm uncomfortably.

“Nate.” You whispered, your tone causing him to whip his head towards you, a crease now prominent on his forehead, “If that ever happens, I give you permission to divorce me for trauma to the kids, okay?”

Upon hearing your words and realising they weren’t as serious as you’d initially made them sound, Nate’s face broke into a soft grin, thumb coming up to lightly brush under your eye, “For future reference, I’d much rather pay for their therapy than ever even think about divorcing you.” And he pressed a cheeky kiss against your lips as a way of sealing the promise.

“Ahem.” Josh coughed pointedly, and both you and Nate spun to look at him, feeling an awful lot like you’d been caught in a forbidden act of affection – which was pretty ridiculous considering the fact that it was at the hands of a gobby ten-year old.

Nate’s hand fell naturally on your leg, draped across your knee and curling around the top of your shin as you both turned your full attention to your son. Josh was pretty tall for his age, every bit of Nate’s build as he possibly could be. It was that, paired with Nate’s eyes and mouth that sometimes had you doing a double-take when you looked at him. It was like looking at a younger version of Nate again, back when you were both in school – not that Nate had stuck around for too long.

And you were reminded of that when Josh took charge of the entire room, and how similar it was to that funny expression Nate used to wear at his age, and even to this day – before games, dad-duties, serious conversations. It was their concentration face.

“He’s kinda scary–”

“Are you two done flirting now?” Josh interrupted, throwing Nate an unimpressed glance as his eyes darted between the two of you with about as much disdain for parental affection as he could possibly muster.

You swallowed, trying not to laugh and partially succeeding, and slowly pushed Nate’s hand off your knee. Josh’s eyes closely followed your movements, looking rather pleased with your reaction, and you could feel Nate’s disappointed glare burn the side of your face. It seemed to diminish in intensity somewhat when he caught the stifled twitch of your mouth as you wrestled with a smile.

“We weren’t flirting–” Nate denied, shaking his head and bumping your knees together – compensation for not being able to actually have a hand on you at this particular moment in time.

“I ordered a family meeting, excluding Leyla.” Josh groaned, hands on his cheeks in a show of hopelessness and frustration, “That means I’m the Head Judge, I get to make the rules, and Rule One is now no flirting–wait, Mom, where’s the Wooden Hammer Thing?”

You pushed yourself off the sofa, wandering into the dining room and picking out the gavel from one of the shelves and walking back into the living room to see Nate scratching his head with red cheeks and Josh sitting scarily chipper on the chair, hand out awaiting his Wooden Hammer Thing.

“It’s a gavel.” Was all you said, a little hesitant to say much else out of fear of…Josh’s unexpected wrath, “What happened?” You pointed the gavel between them both, slightly concerned for Nate when he shook his head, clearly embarrassed at something.

“Dad was watching you walk away and I set a new rule because it was annoying me.” Josh shrugged, taking the gavel from you.

“What rule is that?” You asked, intrigue skyrocketing when Nate pushed himself towards the far end of the sofa, as far away as humanly possible as he could get away from you in such a small space.

Josh sighed, “I’ll paraphrase because I need to talk about something important. Basically, no horny behav–”

“No what now?”

“Where did you even learn that word?”

You and Nate spoke at the same time, you with confusion, and Nate with a hint of outrage as his eyes remained fixed on Josh, who, for the first time since he’d come back downstairs, was looking sheepish. His cheeks were a little red and he was grinning rather shyly, shoulders curling in on themselves.

“It was on TV the other day, someone said it.” Josh shrugged, before noting the still evident look of mild horror on both you and Nate’s face, “And I Googled it because I didn’t know what it meant.”

“No, don’t Google it!” Your hand covered your mouth, images and words that he could have seen flashing in your mind – images and words that no ten year old should ever be subjected to, ever.

And to think Nate was worried about being heard? Why did kids have to be so good with technology and Google nowadays? When you were Josh’s age, YouTube was a dating site, so to think..

“It’s okay, I didn’t click on pictures.” Josh pulled a face, “The words were enough.”

There was a sputtering sound from the other end of the sofa, and you turned to find Nate also with his hand over his mouth, failing to hide a snort of laughter despite his earlier complaints. It seemed to die out, though, when he saw the identical way you and Josh were looking at him: with a hint of amusement and a tad of impatience.

He coughed, clearing his throat and straightening, “Sorry. Got something stuck in my throat.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, patting him on the leg (because even if he tried to move to the other end of the sofa, with the way he’d spread his legs, you barely even had to lean over to reach him).

“Whatever you say, Beefcake.” Josh muttered under his breath, and your hand stilled on Nate’s thigh, face freezing.

You didn’t have to look at Nathan to feel the piercing way he tilted his head to glare at you out of the corner of your eye, frustration clearly written across the panes of his face, “You created that.” He muttered, breath hot against the shell of your ear as he moved back over to you, his arm resting against the back of the sofa.

You said nothing, just resisted a smile and leaned against Nate’s arm, relishing in the way he draped it against your shoulders, drawing you against his chest.

There was a brief flicker of hesitation when you leaned fully into him, wondering if this was the so-called ‘horny behaviour’ that Josh had ruled out of the meeting, but when he looked back up from where he’d been picking a strand of hair off his Penguin’s pyjama top, he didn’t say anything. Just sighed a little, and shook his head, like it was pointless trying to get you to adhere to his rules in the first place (which it was – Josh was the one treading in uncharted waters: it was nine pm on a school night – a time strictly reserved for unwinding with Nate on the sofa).

“Okay,” Josh began, back straightening, “I gather you here today–”

You could feel Nate’s stomach tense and a shaky breath be exhaled in an effort to not break.

“To talk to you about something.” Josh took a deep breath, “It’s something I hold very close to my heart, but it means I have to ask you for help and questions because…” he shrugged, snapping out of the role somewhat, “in all my life, I’ve never not known how to talk to a girl.”

Oh.

Nate stopped laughing, and you felt your eyes widen in surprise.

“Mom, Beefcake. I got a crush.” Josh slowly slipped off the chair, landing on his knees and holding his hands up to the sky, a pained expression on his face.

“I don’t know where he gets that from.” Nate muttered, gesturing to the dramatised scene occurring realtime in front of you.

“I think that’s just him.” You nodded along, suppressing a smile.

Josh returned back to his seat, smiling innocently and like he hadn’t just cried to the heavens, and you wanted to take him off the chair and sandwich him between you and Nate.

Gosh, he’d grown up too fast. You could have sworn only last week you were bringing him home from the hospital, and now he was getting penalties for roughing in his games and asking how to talk to girls.

You scooted over, patting the space between you and Nate, “Come on.”

Josh rolled his eyes and fashioned a groan but followed you anyway, throwing himself down and eliciting a huff of pain from Nate as he half-sat on him.

“Okay,” you started, hands going to stroke through his hair, “tell us about why you need help with this crush.”

Josh practically reddened under your gaze, crossing his arms and swinging his feet – like he instantly regretted even bringing it up – but you applauded his bravery. Your mom had to pester crushes out of you because you were so scared if you told someone that the crush in mention would somehow hear you whisper their name.

“Her name’s Aimee, she sits behind me in class. I’ve tried talking to her, but she’s kinda quiet and I think I intimidate her a bit because…I’m not quiet.” He mumbled, fingers absentmindedly picking at his sleeve, “And I don’t want to scare her off.”

Your heart squeezed a little, and you were at a loss of what to actually say. You’d never been in that position before, usually the roles were reversed: you were the quiet one crushing on the louder person. Naturally, your eyes fell to Nate, who, it seemed, had got something in mind and had already been looking at you.

He was smiling like he knew something you didn’t, and you furrowed your brows, questioning his motives when he looked back down towards Josh.

“I’m gonna tell you something that I think’ll help.” Josh peered up at Nate, something akin to hope and excitement lingering on his face as he watched Nate talk, “When I was your age, maybe a bit younger, I had a massive crush on this girl. She was in a couple of my classes in middle school, and she was quiet. She didn’t put her hand up to answer any questions, even though she should’ve because she knew all the answers anyway – and I thought she was the prettiest girl in school by far–”

“What was her name?” Josh interrupted, frowning slightly.

“That’s not important.” Nate shook his head, “Anyway, in one of my classes in particular, we were assigned seating plans, and she sat on my table, with two other people. And I’d never spoken to this girl in my life, so all I knew was that she was pretty, pretty smart, and pretty shy. And it took me a couple of weeks to even ask her for the time–”

“No way.” Josh muttered sarcastically, and Nate frowned at him, bottom lip sticking out.

“I’m tryna help you.”

Josh blinked, “Get to that part, then. You’re just spewing words.”

Nate pressed his lips together, meeting your eyes across Josh’s head with a straight-faced look. You didn’t pay it much attention – in all honesty, you were trying to figure out this mystery crush he’d had. Nate had been a pretty known person when you guys were in school, what with his hockey and everything, but even despite that he’d always been pretty tight-lipped about his middle school crush, and it had always felt a little silly to keep pestering him about it, so you just…left it.

“Fine.” Nate continued on, one hand reaching out to grasp yours, even as he turned his attention and focus back on Josh. His grip was tight, cool wedding band a nice contrast to your warm hands, and you tuned back into what he was saying, “And once this girl got used to the people she was sitting with, she started talking, and it turned out she was pretty funny. She used to say these things under her breath that only the table could hear, and we’d either all get a telling off for laughing, or we’d all know the answers to the questions.” Nate sighed, “Then the entire table got split up because we were distracting everyone.”

Something in the back of your mind seemed to click at that moment.

The same moment Josh spoke up, “Then what?”

“Then we left school and moved away.” Nate shrugged.

Josh pushed himself up off the sofa, arms crossed, “How’s that supposed to help me?”

In any other situation, you would’ve turned to Josh, tried to calm him down or say something reassuring, but you couldn’t quite pull yourself away from the crinkles in the corner of Nate’s eyes, or the way that he was still smiling like he knew something no one else did. Your mouth parted unconsciously at his words, and your brain went blank. His hand was still tangled with yours, squeezing every so often.

“Because eventually she opened up, and I didn’t have to change anything about me for that to happen. It just takes time, and she has to learn to trust you and be comfortable around you.” Nate continued, either ignorant or choosing to ignore the way you were intent on just staring rather awe-strickenly at him, “I’d also say it was a minor character misjudgement from me, because it turned out she was just quiet around people she didn’t know very well. She liked to sit and observe before chipping in.”

Josh was quiet for a second, deep in thought, and you took the opportunity to use your free hand to poke Nate in the cheek. Once, twice. He caught your hand, bringing it to his lap, and almost as though he was purposefully trying to drive you crazy, he reached for your leg, hauling you across the space Josh had just left. All without paying you a single scrap of attention.

“So I just have to be patient?” Josh asked, a rather dumbfounded look on his face.

You turned your attention back to your son, curling into Nate’s side again and feeling rather smug.

“Yeah. Maybe dial the noise down, though, let her know you’re paying attention to her instead of shouting to your friends, or interrupting.” Nate pressed a kiss to your head, a hand going to cover your mouth as you opened it to say something.

Josh caught the action, raising a brow in your direction, “Sounds doable. Did you break Mom, or something?”

You nodded, and you could feel Nate shake his head.

Josh looked unconvinced, so you licked Nate’s palm, attempting to pry it away from your mouth so you could defend yourself, but he’d clearly expected that kind of retaliation because he breathed a laugh, momentarily tightening his grip to prove he wasn’t fazed.

Josh took a few steps forward, reaching for Nate’s arm, “Can you unhand Mom, please? She wants to say something.”

Nate let go, still keeping an arm around you but resting his opposite arm on the side of the sofa, head in his hand and looking at you with a knowing smile.

You inhaled, “He’s not telling you the whole story.” You pointed an accusing finger at Nate, and Josh gasped.

“Beefcake! How dare you deny your son the truth?”

Nate laughed, but didn’t elaborate.

“Ask him what happened after.” You encouraged Josh, nudging your head back towards Nate.

Josh peered at you, mouth curved downwards in befuddlement, “He said nothing else happened.”

“Ask him again.”

“Dad.” Josh started, eyeing you cautiously out of the corner of his eye, “What happened after?”

Nate glanced at you, eyes darting to the sparkling bands on your left hand, before settling on Josh, who still hadn’t quite moved from where he’d folded his arms.

“I moved to Minnesota for a bit, then back home when I was sixteen. Then Colorado when I was seventeen or eighteen,” he pulled a face, not too bothered on the specifics, “And then about six years later, I came back home one summer and saw her standing in the ready meals aisle of a superstore, looking just as beautiful as the day I left – and still the prettiest person I ever laid eyes on.”

Josh glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes, uncertainty clear – he couldn’t tell whether to run to your defence and interrupt Nate’s spiel, or let him carry on. And you gathered that from your clear lack of upset, that he chose the latter.

“You have to know that it took some guts and I gave myself a bit of a pep talk, but I went up to her, introduced myself and she remembered me–”

“Dad, you were literally an NHL player.” (And Josh returned with the reality check.)

“She remembered me, and I asked if she wanted a drink and she said yes.” Nate finished, leg kicking out to poke his foot against Josh’s leg for interrupting him – but the younger MacKinnon was still looking rather lost on the entire subject.

“What then?” He pressed, yet again throwing you another worried glance, to which you simply grabbed his hand and pulled him to sit on your knee — he didn’t fight it like you expected, just put his arm around your neck, his hand resting comfortably against Nate’s forearm, and placed his head on your shoulder, yawning softly.

“Three years later I asked her to marry me and she said yes. And now,” Nate smirked, “we’ve been happily married for nine years, and have two beautiful children called Josh and Leyla.”

You felt Josh sigh against your collarbone, “I don’t want to play the long game, Dad. Not like that.”

You fought a grin at Nate’s drop in expression. You could tell he’d been expecting some blown out reaction of ‘wow’ or ‘wait, that was you and Mom?’, and the lack of thrill from Josh had clearly knocked his confidence a little, because he shifted, pulling a face.

“If I hadn't played the long game, you wouldn’t be here.” He reasoned, eyes flicking to you.

Instead, Josh lifted his head up, looking you dead in the face with your husband’s eyes, “Did you have a crush on Dad in school?”

You hesitated.

Nate mock-gasped, both hands flying over his mouth, even though you knew he already knew that little smidge of information.

“You didn’t?” Josh asked, recoiling slightly, “Then why did you tell me this story? I thought you were supposed to be inspiring me, not tearing me down and stripping me of my confidence?” He questioned, clearly appalled.

You laughed, “Okay, you gotta bear in mind that the first time I met your dad was on that class table. And it was only about four weeks until we were moved around again, and then he left to go to Minnesota, so he didn’t have time on his side at all.” You took a breath, “Or a pair of balls, apparently—”

Josh cackled at Nate’s expense.

“I can’t believe—” Josh giggled, “that you were literally in love with Mom, a-a—” he practically dissolved into a boneless heap in the middle of you and Nate, hand clutching his stomach, “and she didn’t even know you existed.”

“That’s not true.” You objected, “I knew Na—your dad existed, I just…Look.”

Josh dove into another fit of giggles at your struggle.

“If your dad hadn't talked to me in that one class as much as he did, he wouldn’t have left a good enough impression or given either of us a reason to catch up with each other all those years later. And when I saw him again, y’know, we’d both grown up. He was…This is probably gonna gross you out, but your dad was fucking hot when he came home—”

“Mom, language!” Josh scolded, a grin on his face.

“And he was polite, kind, funny, and impossible not to fall in love with. So, no, I didn’t really have a crush on him in school. I liked him, for sure, it had crossed my mind that he was cute, but it just wasn’t our time then.” You cringed internally (who’s time really was it at ten years old?), “But I definitely had a crush on him as a twenty-four year old adult.”

“Did that mean Dad was pretty much just, like, full-on in love with you at that point?” Josh queried, glancing between you both.

You looked at Nate, taking in his excitement at telling the story. You’d talked about it before, in hypotheticals just before you got married, about what your kids would think of the story of how you guys met. It wasn’t particularly exciting, there were no big confessions of love in the rain, or jealous exes, or miscommunications. It was simple, quiet and calm. Like turning on a light in the dark.

And it didn’t take an expert to be able to find the way that happiness seemed to pour out of Nate. He practically glowed with it. His eyes were wide and he hadn’t stopped smiling, and it was clear he’d been planning this conversation for a while: the keeping you in the dark thing was a welcome surprise, entirely shocking on your end, but you could tell he was just being honest.

“I wasn’t full-on in love with Mom at that point,” Nate squeezed your hand, “I was maybe a little bit in love, and part of that was because she was wearing a Halifax Mooseheads t-shirt when I saw her again.”

“What was the other part?” Josh quizzed, eyes a little heavier.

“That after one conversation I liked her even more than I did when we were in school, which I didn’t even think was possible.”

You rolled your eyes fondly, “Don’t listen to him–”

“What? It’s true.” Nate interjected.

Josh watched the two of you bicker for a few seconds, a slow smile on his face. It wasn’t very often that you and Nate could really show him this was what you were like, between Leyla’s nappies, Josh’s hockey, Nate’s hockey, your job, household chores – the MacKinnon household was busy. The only time all four of you seemed to be in the same room at the same time was the occasional dinner and weekend, and even then it was a rare occasion.

“You guys are just really big kids with really big crushes on each other.” Josh muttered quietly, shrugging at his realisation.

You stopped, words dying on your tongue as you took in what Josh had said. Then you looked at Nate – who seemed to be nodding without even realising it, “Yeah. Yeah, it kind of is.”

Then Josh shook his head, “So why can’t I believe what Dad says?”

“Because even after all of that, I made the first move. And said ‘I love you’ first–”

Nate guffawed from behind you, flicking your ear, “That's only because you made me nervous and I didn’t want to scare you.”

You tilted your head curiously at him, and judging from the way Nate’s eyes seemed to zip cautiously between you and Josh, you could only assume Josh was shooting him the same glance, “That’s pretty ironic considering I’m supposed to be the ‘quiet’ one.”

“You’re not that quiet, though, are you?” Nate teased affectionately–

“Is that a horny thing?” Josh scrunched up his nose, fidgeting uncomfortably and pulling a face like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer, and you tried not to smile, shaking your head.

He was getting tired, you could tell. His attention was starting to dwindle, he was blinking sleepily, and you’d caught him trying to swallow a few yawns when Nate had been storytelling.

“No.” Nate frowned, “I just meant your mom isn’t quiet when you get to know her.”

You nodded, pushing yourself up off the sofa just as Leyla’s cries started to filter through the baby monitor next to Nate. Three pairs of eyes snapped to the small screen, and Nate picked the device up, turning to you and Josh with raised brows, “I’ll go check on her.” He ruffled Josh’s hair as he walked past, and you both watched him walk up the stairs.

Then Josh turned to you, eyes clearly struggling to remain awake for much longer.

“You know we’d never do any of that…um.” You hesitated, “Horny behaviour, in front of you.”

He nodded, yawning, “I know. I don’t mind the flirting, though.”

You swallowed, a little shocked by his revelation considering how much he seemed to protest against seeing it, “You don’t?”

“No, it’s nice to know you guys still like each other.” Then he huffed a laugh, “I had no idea you and Dad went to school together.”

You shrugged, placing a hand on the back of his head and nudging him towards the stairs. He went without complaining, turning back to look at you after your silence, “Well, I had no idea your Dad had a crush on me in school, so we both learnt something new tonight.”

“Wait, you didn’t?” Josh smiled, meeting you at the top of the stairs and peeking through Leyla’s door before following you towards his room.

“Nope.” You opened the door to his bedroom, facing an old trio of hockey posters that Nate had taken from his childhood room, “He might have played the long game, but I don’t think either of us would have changed it for the world. I mean, who knows, maybe if we’d have talked more in school, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Josh seemed to think about it as he climbed under his duvet, you choosing to lay at the foot of his bed as he made himself comfortable.

“When did you know Dad was the one?”

Your heart stuttered a little, and your words seemed to get tangled in your throat – momentarily caught off-guard by the question.

Truthfully, you weren’t aware there was a specific moment in time that made you stop and just know that Nate was the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. It had built up slowly as your relationship progressed; talks of the future were brought up pretty early on considering what he did for a living, and eventually it got to the point where you just knew that there wasn’t going to be a breakup or a break. That realisation had just planted itself into your head, that it was gonna end in marriage, and you couldn’t have honestly dreamt of anything or anyone more suited to you.

There was no one, and then there was Nate.

“If I had to choose, though,” you wondered aloud, eyes briefly glancing at the family photo Josh had chosen to have on his bedside table, “I’d probably say that I knew, or at least suspected that your Dad might be it, about four months into us dating. Neither of us had said ‘I love you’ at that point, because actually getting to know each other with your Dad’s schedule was pretty hectic and the timezones made it difficult, but my grandma passed away and I had to fly home from Montreal–”

“Because you were working there, right?”

You nodded, a bittersweet smile on your face, “Yeah. And I remember I left your Dad a message before one of his games, and when I landed back in Nova Scotia, there were missed calls, texts and one voicemail; I waited until I got back home to listen to it, and it said something along the lines of ‘I’m so sorry, I know how much she meant to you, blah, blah, blah, is there anything you need or something I can get your family?’ And I remember thinking, ‘What? Why would he be asking me all of that?’ And then I looked at my texts and there was information for a flight and it turned out he’d booked the earliest one he could after finishing his game.” You took a breath, slowing everything down, “I cried for most of the two days he stayed and looked after us all. By that point, we’d known each other for about a year, but we’d only been dating four months, and it was the first time he met my family and he was an absolute angel.” You swallowed, a lump forming in your throat at the memory of that period in your life.

“Did Grandma and Grandad like him?” Josh snuggled further under his duvet, stifling a yawn with his hand.

You opened your mouth, about to answer, when the bedroom door creaked open and Nate padded in through the door, flicking the overhead light off and turning the bedside lamp on as he took a seat next to you. His hand came to rest on your thigh, a welcome and reassuring squeeze, but his attention was on Josh, “I think that signals bedtime.”

You nodded in agreement, but Josh seemed to blink manically and sat up in bed, his covers falling around his torso, “But I have way more questions—”

“And you can ask them tomorrow.” You promised, running a hand through his soft hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead, “Are you okay with Aimee, though?”

He nodded, cheeks reddening as he seemed to shrink into himself again, and you smiled at his cuteness, “Love you, sleep tight.” You whispered, pulling away and letting Nate have his turn as Josh whispered them back.

You slipped out of the room, heading into Leyla’s room at the other end of the hall, tiptoeing in to peer over her crib bars. Nate had settled her again, and she was laid on her back, blonde hair a wavy mess, fists curled shut near her head. Her eyes were closed and she looked peaceful zipped up in her Bambi onesie.

It was barely ten seconds later when you heard Nate’s steps creak the floorboards, his arms caging you in against the side of the cot as his front pressed against your back. His head came to rest on your shoulder, nose nudging the side of your cheek when you turned to face him.

“I can’t believe you had a crush on me in school, and you kept it from me for more than a decade.” You smirked, raising a smug brow in his direction as he bit the inside of his cheek.

“You mad?” He checked, no real concern in his tone as he fought to conceal the amusement in his eyes.

“No. Just shocked you managed to keep your mouth shut for so long.”

He rolled his eyes, “Well, it was worth it.”

“You’re a sap sometimes, y’know.” You nudged him playfully, “But I wouldn’t change it.”

“No?” He hummed, and you shook your head in response.

You knew he heard the entire conversation with Josh – it would have been hard not to, considering Josh couldn’t whisper for shit, and Leyla’s room was directly opposite, but there wasn’t a need to talk about it immediately. It was partly because you’d talked about it before – it was something you’d both discussed in a whisper after he’d proposed – and also partly because you’d gotten to the point in your life where Nate had perfected the ability of reading you at any given point, and vice versa.

And right now, you were both pretty content.

“Leyla’s gonna come home from school one day and start talking about crushes.” You whispered, watching him closely as he scowled, glaring at you out of the corner of his eye.

It made you smile, not wanting to laugh in fear of disrupting her sleep.

“I don’t even want to think about that.”

“It’s scary, right?”

“Terrifying. She’s my baby girl, I don’t want her to grow up.” He reasoned, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.

You were both silent for a while, watching her eyelashes flutter mid-dream, and her little fists gently clench and unclench.

“I wonder what she’ll be like.” You whispered.

You felt Nate breathe a laugh against your neck, “Hopefully not like Josh, in the nicest way possible, I don’t think my patience could take it.” He teased, eliciting you a gentle laugh.

“Josh is one of a kind.” You shook your head fondly. He could be cute most of the time, but when he loses his patience or gets too cocky (or just refuses to do the things you ask of him), he can be a little menace — something Nate struggled to get a handle on at first.

They clashed a bit.

“It’s because he’s got your smarts—”

“But your fucking audacity.” You finished.

Nate gasped, a look of sheer disbelief written on his face, “That’s not true.” He denied, shaking his head.

“Your parents were the ones that said that.”

He quietened, lips pulling down in a frown as his eyes focused on something you couldn’t see, “Really?”

You nodded, “I mean, I’m paraphrasing, they actually described Josh as a ‘smart boy but with Nate’s bold cheek.” You snickered as he pulled another face, letting go of the railings and stepping backwards for the door, “Need some time to think about it alone?” You teased.

Nate nodded, eyes wide, “I’m just gonna go get changed.”

“M’kay, love you, Beefcake.”

“That one’s not come from me!” He hissed, smiling all the while, before disappearing from sight.

#nathan mackinnon x reader #nathan mackinnon oneshot #nathan mackinnon imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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worldofheroes · 11 months

Text

Finally Some Privacy

tom cruise x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, language, broken bone(s), age gap relationship (28yrs), secret relationship, p in v sex, daddy kink, smut with no plot

summary: after a stunt gone wrong, filming is put on pause. you fly back to LA with tom to spend some alone time together.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: whoops kinda fell for tom. I do not support Scientology.

You hated when Tom had big stunts. The stunt you’re filming today is mild compared to some of his others, but they all carried risk of injury.

You flinched as Tom hurled himself off one building and towards the other. The whole stunt was him almost missing the jump but grabbing the edge.

When he hit, something seemed off. You felt it in your gut. It was only a second, but you knew.

When Tom stood up, he ran - or rather limped - off camera.

“Okay, cut. We’re done,” Tom says.

“Done?” the director asks.

“Yeah, I just broke my ankle,” Tom says, leaning on his knees.

“What?!”

“Can someone just take me to the hospital, please?” Tom asks, slightly annoyed.

“Alright, alright, wrap it up!” the director yells.

You watch as the on set medics go to Tom and help him to a chair.

Tom glances over to you and nods. You know that means to continue your work and the two of you will meet up later.

A few hours later, you’re wrapped and released from the set. You check your phone and you have a message from Tom.

Did a real number on my ankle. Need surgery but I’ll be fine. You can come visit, say you’re with the crew and need to check on me.

You make your way to the hospital.

“How can I help you?” a nurse asks you from the desk.

“Hi, I’m looking for Tom Cruise, I’m with the film crew, I was sent to check on him,” you say.

“Of course, right this way,” she says, walking out from behind the desk and down the hallway.

“Mr. Cruise, you have a visitor, may they come in?” the nurse asks from the doorway.

“Yes, of course,” you hear him say.

The nurse motions for you to walk in the room, and she closes the door behind her.

“Hey,” Tom says softly, with a smile.

“Hi,” you say, pulling a chair up beside the bed. “I would say you’re stupid but this was just unlucky.”

Tom chuckles. “One of the least risky stunts and I do this,” he says, motioning to his leg.

“But you’re alive.”

“Yeah.”

You take his hand and give it a kiss.

“At least we’ll have a lot of time to spend together without running behind people’s backs,” Tom smiles at you.

You press your lips together. You’ve had a secret relationship with Tom for three months now, and you’ve expressed how you don’t like it being secret but understand why it has to be.

“When I get out of here we’ll fly back to LA on the private jet. A few other crew guys will be there so it won’t be suspicious. Then it’ll be just us,” Tom continues. “It’s gonna work out.”

“I know, I know,” you say, not making eye contact.

“Sweetheart,” Tom says gently, “look at me. Please.”

You take a deep breath to find the courage to look at him. You finally look up and into his green eyes.

“I love you,” Tom says.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper.

“Y/n.”

“I… I don’t know how to feel about this. It’s nearly a 30 year difference, Tom.”

Tom nods. “I know. I’m sorry if I crossed a line.”

You press your lips together again. “Let’s just get back to LA.”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

You pause, then lean over and give Tom a kiss. Tom caresses your head and gives you a smile.

There’s a knock on the door and you scramble for your chair. Tom chuckles softly and you shoot him a look, but can’t help but smile too.

A nurse comes in. “Hi there, I’m here to go over the discharge papers.”

About an hour later, you’re helping Tom out of the hospital. Soon, you, Tom, and a few crew members are on the plane headed to New York, then LA.

You cannot wait to get off the plane when you finally land in LA. As you walk onto the tarmac, Tom approaches you.

“Y/n, I’ve arranged a car to take you home,” Tom tells you.

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“I like to take care of my crew,” Tom smiles. He opens the car door for you, and you get in.

When the door closes, the driver addresses you. “Hello Miss y/l/n. You’re headed to Mr. Cruise’s residence, is that correct?”

“Yes, thank you,” you reply.

It’s a quiet ride to Tom’s house. When you pull into the driveway, Tom is already there. He helps you out of the car.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in and kissing you.

“Tom,” you scold.

“Y/n, I trust these people with my life, they won’t say a word.”

“Okay. I trust you,” you tell him. “This place is huge.”

Tom laughs. “It gets pretty lonely.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you trying to say something?”

“Just that I can’t wait to spend some alone time with you.”

You and Tom spend most of the day watching TV, cuddling on the couch. You drift in and out of sleep throughout the day.

“Hey,” Tom whispers in your ear. “You want to move to the bed? Might be a little more comfortable.”

You yawn. “I guess, yeah.”

“If I didn’t have a broken ankle, I’d carry you there,” Tom laughs.

You laugh too. “Are you going to make it, resting for four to six weeks?”

“Probably not. I’ll probably start walking on it too soon and probably mess it up more.”

“Uh huh,” you say, moving to face him and straddling his lap. “You can’t put the movie off forever.”

“Stop being a distraction, then,” Tom says, moving his hands down your back and onto your ass.

“You’re the older one here, you should be the logical one.��

“I don’t have to be logical for the next couple months.” Tom leans in and kisses you.

You run your hands through his hair.

“You’re really pretty,” Tom mumbles on your lips.

You smile against his lips for a moment before you push the kiss deeper, and Tom responds instantly. His tongue dips into your mouth, his hands are all over your body, and you tug on his hair. A moan escapes from him, making you giggle.

“That’s not nice,” Tom mutters.

“What?” you ask innocently.

“You’re going to do that, are you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it. Get to the bedroom, now.”

“I’ve never been here, I don’t know where it is,” you say against his lips as you kiss him again.

“Up,” Tom practically orders.

“Yes sir,” you say, getting off his lap.

He gently shoves you towards one of the hallways. “Walk,” he mumbles into your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

The two of you finally make it to the bedroom. Tom closes the door with a loud thud and turns his attention back on you.

“Are you really going to try to dominate me with a broken ankle?” You’re practically asking for it now. He knows it, and he’s enjoying it as much as you are.

He walks towards you. “I like this side of you,” he says. “But I’ve let you get away with too much these last few months.”

“Oh, is Daddy upset?”

“Fuck you,” Tom growls.

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh.

Tom walks you backward towards the bed, and you fall on it.

“You really shouldn’t be doing this with a broken ankle,” you tell him.

“Fuck my ankle, alright?” Tom says, pushing his crotch against you. His cock is already hard, and you gasp.

“Tom,” you mutter.

“Sex is more important than my ankle right now,” he whispers in your ear.

He pulls your shirt off, and you work on the buttons of his shirt. Tom leans down and kisses you. You finally get his shirt off, and your hands wander his torso.

Tom kisses his way down your body, and works on getting your shorts off.

“Tom,” you mutter again.

“I got you,” he whispers into your thigh, taking your shorts off in one swift movement.

His hand gently brushes over your core and your hips buck.

“Easy, baby girl,” he says.

“Don’t tease,” you reply.

“Oh you can tease but I can’t?” Tom locks eyes with you.

“Just fuck me already,” you tell him.

“I’ll fuck you when I want,” Tom growls, pulling your panties off. He drops his pants to the floor.

“Please, Daddy,” you beg.

Tom gives you a smirk as he pulls his boxers down.

“Shit,” you groan.

Tom climbs on top of you. “Is this okay?”

“What?” you ask, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

“I want to make sure you are okay with sex,” he says gently.

You nod.

“I want a verbal confirmation, baby girl.”

“Yes.”

Tom smiles at you and leans down to give you a quick kiss. He reaches over to you and fumbles in the nightstand drawer.

You see a square wrapper, and Tom rips it open.

“Okay baby girl, time to teach you a lesson,” Tom growls as he puts the condom on.

“Tell me how bad I've been,” you encourage.

Tom places his tip at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You gasp at his hardness entering you.

“So fucking tight,” Tom mutters, watching himself push into you. “So tight, just for me.”

You nod, unable to speak as he starts to thrust in and out.

“Are you going to be a good girl now, for Daddy?” Tom leans down and whispers in your ear, getting more aggressive with his thrusts.

“Yes!” You exclaim as his cock hits you just right.

“Yes what?”

“Yes Daddy… I’ll be a good girl,” you gasp.

“Good,” Tom says, thrusting even harder. You didn’t think that was possible.

You feel yourself reaching your orgasm. “I’m gonna come,” you tell him.

“You need to wait.”

“I don’t think I can!”

“You’ll come when Daddy comes.”

“Please Daddy,” you moan.

“Wait.”

“I can’t, Daddy, please,” you plead with Tom.

Tom grunts. “Okay baby girl, come for Daddy,” he says, voice faltering a bit.

He thrusts two more times and you come undone around his cock.

“Oh, Daddy!” you yell.

“That’s it,” he mumbles into your neck. “Fuck.” Tom finishes in the condom.

You finish your orgasm and you’re panting, trying to catch your breath.

Tom stays in you for a moment, his eyes closed and tries to catch his breath. His cock twitches in you, which makes you buck just a little.

Tom opens his eyes and chuckles. “Still feels good, huh?”

“Fuck yes,” you say, rubbing against him.

Tom smiles at you as he pulls out and discards the used condom. He lays down beside you and pulls you close.

“Damn that was good,” Tom says, kissing your hair.

“Mm hmm,” you agree with him, snuggling close to his naked body.

Tom reaches for a blanket and pulls it over the two of you.

“How’s your ankle?” you ask Tom.

“Probably royally fucked now. Recovery is likely going to take longer,” Tom says.

“Mm.”

“But that puts off the movie longer and gives us more time to fuck,” Tom whispers.

“You’ll never finish the movie.”

“As long as I can finish in you, it doesn’t matter.”

“Thomas!” you scold, laughing.

Tom laughs with you.

“I know I freaked out last time, but I love you,” you tell him, looking up at him.

Tom smiles softly. “I love you too, baby girl.” He leans down and kisses you.

The two of you spend the rest of the day in bed, in each other’s arms.

#tom cruise x reader #tom cruise imagine #top gun x reader #pete mitchell x reader #ethan hunt x reader

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

Text

The Princess & The Playboy (Part 6)

Summary: Sam and Max's plan to get their siblings invited to a party may have worked but Sebastian Monroe is a dangerous man and they may have just put not only their lives but their families at risk too...

Masterlist

Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader

Word Count: 5,400ish

Warnings: language, family trauma/angst, kidnapping

A/N: Uh oh...

_________

Two Weeks Later

Reader POV

“Damn,” said Dean, shaking out his arm after you’d tossed him a football in the backyard. “I’m going to need your arm workout and no, I am not joking.”

“Oh my god, did I tell you the dance choreographer wanted me to learn to do a handstand so I could sing, upside down? I shut that shit down so fast,” you said, Dean gently tossing the ball back to you.

“I’m sure you could do it. But I don’t blame you for not wanting to,” he said, catching the ball one handed. “Do you get a lot of say in that stuff? Dance moves?”

“That would require me to be able to dance,” you laughed, clasping both arms around the ball when he threw it back.

“She’s right. God awful dancer when it’s not choreographed. Miracle she can fake it as well as she does,” said Eric from the patio table, glancing up from his phone. “It’s four by the way.”

“Ugh. Why’d we say yes to this stupid party?” you asked. Dean shrugged.

“This guy donates a bunch of money to the Wolves charity every year. Plus Emma said it’s not a bad idea to go to a charity event together. Apparently it helps the public not think of me as such a scoundrel.” You tossed him the ball one last time, clasping your hands behind your back.

“I mean you are the big bad playboy corrupting the virtue of the sweet princess of pop,” you said, batting your eyes, twirling your hips. You grinned when he frowned, his eyes like a predator sizing up his prey. “I think the media is right about you. Such a bad influence.”

“Oh keep it up, princess, and I’ll tell them you ain’t innocent in the slightest.”

“Someone put me out of my misery,” groaned Eric, rising to his feet. “I’m getting dressed and going over protocols with the team. We’ll head out at seven.”

“Ain’t it kind of early to get ready?” asked Dean as you tossed him the ball one last time. Eric only laughed and headed inside, Dean cocking his head at you. “I know girls take a long time to get ready but three hours?”

“Shower. Shave. Makeup. Hair. Plus I told Sloane I’d help do her hair and pick out a dress,” you said, Dean humming. “I’m sure there’s a college game on you could watch for awhile.”

“I got some game film I can review,” he said, a heavy sigh in his shoulders. You wrapped your arms around him, Dean ditching the ball to return it. “It just never ends.”

“You love football, though,” you said, Dean nodding.

“I do. But every year it’s getting to be more and more. I know you understand the pressure of it all. I just…I’m tired. I want to have more of a life outside my job,” he said, sliding his hands down your arms, taking your hands in his. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, Dean sharing the same sad smile you wore. “Me, I can have less tour dates and not put out an album every single year. I can make more wiggle room for myself. But I know you can’t. And sometimes I worry when I watch you play, pushing your body so hard.”

“I’m incredibly lucky I’m the least sacked QB in the league. I’ve had only one surgery and that was cause I broke my toe like an idiot on a coffee table. I don’t want to be like these guys that stay in too long and wind up with so much pain at forty. Or worse.”

“I guess the thing to ask yourself is, do you want to keep going? Or could you walk away and be satisfied?” you asked. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes.

“All I know is I used to put my head down, bury myself in the game. All I looked forward to was getting to the season, the start of a game, feeling that rush. This year…I’m looking forward to being done with work and games way too much. It’s like I’d rather be somewhere else…with someone else,” he murmured.

You nodded, squeezing his hands. “Nothing to decide today.”

“I know. Go get ready. I can occupy myself for a few hours.”

“Damn,” you said when it was nearly seven. Sloane looked down at herself alarmed, glancing back worried. “Sloane, you’re fucking hot.”

“I’m forty two,” she scoffed, smoothing out the floor length gown. “I’m not hot.”

“Hell yeah you are,” you said, Sloane tucking a strand of freshly curled hair behind her ear. “Eric’s going to fucking drool.”

“He better not,” she mumbled, taking a breath as she put her leg up on a chair and hiked the skirt portion up. She opened up her clutch sat on the end of the bed and slapped a very small thigh holster on her right leg, a smaller than usual gun inside.

“Right. Cause really hot women packing heat are total turn offs for him,” you said, adjusting the strap that ran across your shoulder. She pouted and you handed her the clutch. “You said you could work with him tonight. We’re only bringing two of you inside and we wanted our best.”

“I can. He’s good about not speaking about anything but strictly work lately,” she said, sitting on the bed. “Does he seem…different to you?”

You knew why she was asking. Eric had told you he needed a few hours a week off for therapy a few weeks back. You practically jumped for joy that he was going to get some help to work through some things. Then it all shattered when he said it was related to his dad and needing to address some stuff he did to him as a kid. He didn’t share more but you had a feeling that had as much impact on him as his days in the military, probably more.

“It’s hard to tell with him,” you said, trying to respect his privacy. Plus, it actually was difficult to see a difference. Eric held everything close to the chest. Sometimes too much.

“Yeah. There’ll be no issues working together this evening,” she said, forcing a smile. You wanted to offer some reassurance that he was trying and maybe someday things between them could change. But honestly, you had no clue if they would work things out.

“Good. Well, let’s go see the boys.” A moment later you were coming down the stairs, Dean and Eric wandering out from the front hall in their tuxedos. Eric had always looked handsome when he dressed up but Dean?

He was walking sin in the tailored outfit, showing off his large shoulders and trim waist. You could feel the heat in your cheeks when he stared like he wanted to devour you then and there.

“Wow,” said Dean, a growing smile on his face, eyeing you up and down. It was a fairly simple dress. Black. One shoulder and a thin strap on the other. Form fitting up top before it became loose at the hips. It probably didn’t match black tie standard one hundred percent but it’d been sitting in your closet for two years and you finally had an excuse to wear it.

“Wow yourself,” you said, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Put you in one of these and you’d never imagine you spend literally every single day in flannels, henleys, and black tees.”

“Strange considering I’ve seen you wearing those clothing items a lot more yourself lately,” he teased, grinning down like a cat staring at the mouse it’d cornered.

“Oh, just a coincidence,” you said, Eric clearing his throat. You rolled your eyes, getting a roll in return. “You look nice too, Eric. I know you need the compliment on your appearance or your ego will bust.”

“Why did I take this job,” he mumbled to himself, staring at Sloane as she walked ahead for the front door. “You look beautiful.”

Sloane stopped dead in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at him, his gaze shooting to you.

“I know you’ve wanted to wear that dress for awhile,” he said to you, Sloane rolling her eyes and walking outside. Eric closed his eyes when she was gone, Dean slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I’m sure my hyper observant protection agent didn’t catch the way you said that straight to her face and then pretended to say it to your boss.” Eric shrugged him off and grumbled on his way outside, harshly pulling the door behind him. “Damn. I was hoping they’d have some kind of fairytale moment or shit. He looked like he wanted to fuck her over the kitchen table.”

“I don’t know. We’ll just…wait and see what happens,” you said, holding out your hand. “Ready to go?”

“One sec,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling something out. He slipped something elastic over your wrist, beaming when you stared down at it to find it was a friendship bracelet, like the kind from when you were kids. This one was black, gray and white, the LA Wolves colors. You turned it over when you felt a few square beads, expecting to see DEAN.

Your heart skipped when you saw MAX with a few beads separating it from SAM. You glanced up Dean, his green eyes flittering down to where he’d removed his jacket, right sleeve pushed up.

Dean had always had Sam’s initials tattooed on his forearm. You remember that happened at some point in college, not too long after Sam went missing. The initials right below it were new though, his skin tinged a light pink from where the tattoo was still fresh.

“Is that-”

“Max’s initials? Yeah, looks like it,” he said, a coy smile crossing his face. You held out a finger, Dean humming it was alright to touch. A thick swallow was audible as you traced over the delicate skin, black ink soaked into the creamy canvas of his body.

“Fuck you,” you whispered, Dean’s face falling.

“Sweetheart, I’m-” he said as he wiped at your eyes, mascara coming away on the back of your hand. You laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Look what you did you sweet man,” you laughed, a few tears falling free. “Dean, you didn’t have to put his name on your body.”

“Brothers go on the arm. It’s kind of my thing,” he said, your bottom lip wobbling as a swell of emotion hit you. “Are you mad?”

“No,” you croaked out, squeezing your bracelet. “I wish they were with us.”

“Me too,” he said softly, wiping his thumb under your eye, stopping a tear from falling. “Y/N.”

You met his green eyes, thumb stroking your cheek with a barely there touch.

“You understand you’re my girl, right?” You nodded, Dean’s head tilting slightly, eyes scanning down to your lips slowly and back up just as lazily. “So. Am I yours?”

You held a finger to his lips and turned towards the front door, pulling it open, Eric and Sloane both leaned against an SUV.

“We’ll leave in thirty,” you said, pulling the door shut again, finding Dean with a raised eyebrow. “I need ten to fix my makeup. The other twenty is to show you exactly how much you’re mine.”

Dean POV

I stepped outside while Y/N used the bathroom, the brisk air doing wonders for cooling me down after what I could only describe as the most intimate handjob I’d ever received. It was the one thing that stuck out to me about sex with Y/N. Every other partner I’d had, it was about release, pleasure. With Y/N though, it felt different. A good different. Yeah, it was about the pleasure there too but it was…comforting in a way, joined together.

Once Y/N had let go of her fear of it, intimacy turned out to be one of her favorite things in the world. And it was becoming one of mine too. She just made me feel safe. Whole again.

“Told you she’d cry about the tattoo,” mumbled Eric in my ear, hands clasped behind his back. “Surprised you didn’t get down on one knee yet.”

“We understand what we are to each other,” I said, adjusting the sleeve of my jacket. “The time for that’ll come eventually but I don’t think either one of us is in a rush to get there.”

“Ready!” exclaimed Y/N, rushing outside barefoot, the skirt of her dress bunched up in one hand, heels in the other. “How late are we?”

“Oh, only forty five minutes,” said Eric, Y/N jumping in the backseat when he opened the door. “Clutch?”

“I’m the purse tonight,” I chuckled, patting my pocket where her phone, a lipstick and extra hair tie resided.

“Good. I usually get stuck with it,” said Eric, patting my bottom. “Let’s move it kiddos.”

“Hopefully this party doesn’t suck,” said Y/N beside me as we drove up a long driveway thirty minutes later, lips pursed.

“You hate parties,” Eric chuckled from the passenger seat.

“I hate parties where people ask me to sing at their kid’s sweet sixteen which is like, almost all the time,” she said, my hand reaching over and interlacing our hands together. “Sorry. That sounded bitchy.”

“It sounded like that’s really annoying to have happen all the time,” I said, the car slowing down behind another luxury SUV. “We won’t stay long, just a few hours. I know we have to do this for me.”

“Hey,” she said, voice firm. My eyes flickered to hers in the dark space. “We both have more money than we know what to do with. I’m perfectly happy to waste an evening if it means sending some of that money to a good cause. You getting some good press out of it is a bonus.”

“I ever tell you how wonderful you are?” I asked, heart swelling up as she blushed. “Want to go show off your reformed bad boy, sweetheart?”

“You were never bad,” she said, pecking a kiss on my lips. She grinned goofily and wiped them off with her thumb. “Lipstick.”

“You can take it off if you promise to put it back later,” I said, Y/N’s eyes flirting down to my groin, a wicked smirk on her face. “Down girl.”

“I’ll play with you later,” I said as we stopped. Eric slid out of the passenger seat as I opened the back door. I exited and held out a hand, helping Y/N down in her obnoxious skinny little heels. They looked like a death trap to me but she danced around on stage for three hours in them so if anyone knew how to work them, it was her.

Damn she was sexy in that dress. Almost as sexy as those red flannel pajama pants she wore last night. And that cozy blue sweater on Thursday. Or that-

“Stop staring at her,” said Sloane, pushing on my back so I’d move and she could slip out of the backseat. “You’re like a puppy obsessed with her.”

“Be nice,” Y/N chided, taking a step forward, letting me follow her lead. Eric and Sloane fell in place behind us, the driver staying with the car and driving off towards where the cars were being parked.

A man in a nice suit opened the front door for us, revealing a grand hall that made Y/N’s house look like a starter home.

“This guy is loaded,” I whispered in Y/N’s ear as we found ourselves quickly surrounded by people when they caught sight of her. There must have been three hundred people at this thing.

“Here we go,” she mumbled before putting on a big smile, immediately getting asked to be in a selfie with a woman in her twenties.

For the next thirty minutes it felt like we were bombarded, stuck not ten feet past the door in a never ending line of people wanting to talk to Y/N. Yes, some people were football fans but a vast majority were there for Y/N, some nervous, some practically jumping out of their skins.

“Damn dude, you’re beyond lucky,” said some guy to me as his wife took a picture with Y/N.

“I know I am,” I responded, Y/N giving me a flash of a smile.

“She needs a break,” whispered Eric in my ear. I stepped forward and cut off the next gaggle of women that wanted to approach.

“Excuse me, I need to steal Y/N for a minute,” I said, taking her arm and leading her down the large open hall.

“Thanks,” she said, grabbing a glass of champagne off a servers tray. She knocked it back and I started to scan the room in search of water for her.

“Hi,” said a teenage girl in a light blue dress, approaching slowly. She seemed out of place at the event filled with adults in designer clothes. “I’m Cecilia Monroe, Sebastian Monroe’s daughter.”

Ah she was this guys kid. That made sense. “Nice to meet you. We haven’t met your father yet. We’d like to thank him for his numerous donations to the Wolves charity over the years.”

“You have a lovely home,” said Y/N, the girl blushing, clasping her hand over her wrist in a failed attempt to hide her friendship bracelet. Y/N caught it and smiled. “Did you go to the tour this year?”

“Uh yeah. My dad got VIP tickets,” she said shyly, suddenly straightening her back. “I’ll be on the veranda. Please come find me when you’re through with my dad. It’s very important.”

She scuttled away, Y/N raising an eyebrow.

“I think you have a superfan,” I chuckled, Y/N biting her lip. “You think she’s a problem?”

“No. She’s a fan clearly but I don’t know,” she said, waving for Eric and Sloane to join us from where they stood together by a table of appetizers.

“You two good?” asked Sloane, their eyes finding the young girl and watching her leave.

“Keep an eye on that girl,” Y/N said, nodding as Cecilia went through open back doors outside. They both readied themselves but Y/N shook her head. “Just watch her. This might be a Denver situation.”

“Denver?” I asked, Eric frowning.

“Fan in Denver was being abused by her parents. Subtly asked Y/N for help at an event. Smart kid actually,” said Eric. “Sloane and I can try a soft approach with the girl, get a feel for if something is up, relay we can keep her safe .”

“This guy does have a lot of private security,” said Sloane. “If something’s happening, she may feel safer knowing we can protect her in the interim.”

“Let’s go talk to the girl,” said Y/N just as a man in a very nice suit came striding down the hall towards us. “I think that’s our host.”

“Eric, Sloane, go see what’s up. We can fend for ourselves for awhile,” I said. They scuttled away as the man greeted us, holding out a hand and shaking mine firmly.

“Sebastian Monroe,” he said with a pleasant enough smile. “And you two are the power couple my teenage daughter will not stop talking about.”

“Yeah, we get that a lot. We said hello to her earlier,” said Y//N with a fake smile, staying close to my side when the men looked like he was going to reach for her hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Dean Winchester,” I said, taking my hand back, the other wrapped around Y/N’s waist. The man only smiled though, like we didn’t need to introduce ourselves. “I’ve heard you’re a Wolves fan.”

“Oh not anymore than anyone else,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Although a signed jersey by you would certainly go for big bucks at our next charity auction.”

“We’ll have to make that happen for sure,” I said, not enjoying the way his gaze traveled down Y/N’s body. I’d seen it plenty of times tonight but his seemed the most sleazy of all.

“Speaking of the auction, where are the tables? I’d love to donate,” said Y/N.

“Right side of the veranda, sweetie.” Y/N hummed, giving me a look to join her as soon as I could. “Boy, if I was ten years younger.”

I couldn’t hide my annoyance, Sebastian flashing me a smile. “Oh no. Please go ahead and tell me what you’d do if you were ten years younger.”

“Easy kid. Half the population would bone her if they could,” he said, sipping from the glass in his hand. He took his turn to eye me, a curious look on his face. “You know, I could be inclined to offer another sizeable donation to the Wolves charity for those kids if I could get one of those signed jerseys myself.”

I bit my tongue, both of us aware of the clear message. Refuse and good ol’ Sebastian stops donating a million dollars each year to kids in poverty.

“I’m sure you got one around here somewhere we could fix up,” I said. Sebastian threw an arm over my shoulder and I hide my cringe.

“Good man. Come on. I got one right in my game room.”

Reader POV

There wasn’t really anything you wanted from the silent auction but you had found a general donation slip at the end of the table and jotted down your agent’s information. You’d looked around for Eric and Sloane or the girl when you finished but hadn’t found any of them which probably wasn’t a good sign. You frowned and walked over the railings edge, looking around the dim yard for any sign of them.

“Bruschetta?” asked one of the servers.

“No thank you,” you said without looking.

“I must insist,” he said. You rolled your eyes, ready to give it to this guy but something seemed familiar about him. He handed you one on a small napkin as you kept staring. “Take a bite and smile, pretend it’s really good.”

You’d had more than a handful of dangerous fan interactions over the years but this felt…different.

You did as he asked, faking wide eyes at the average at best food. “Who are you?”

“Do not make a scene,” he said as you finished off the food. “I need to get to your bodyguards.”

“Are you trying to protect that girl? Cecilia?” you asked as you played along and took another piece off the tray.

“What? No. I don’t have time for this,” he said, stepping in front of you, your gaze narrowing. “Do not ask questions. Just get me and Max the fuck out of here.”

“Max?” Your heart skipped a beat, the food falling from your hand as you understand where you’d seen him before. “Y-You’re Sam.”

“We’re watched. Get your guards to get us out. Don’t get caught or we’re dead,” he said, turning away and offering a couple nearby food from his tray. You swallowed, instantly putting on your performer’s smile. The one you wore that time you had food poisoning during a concert and were throwing up between songs back in the summer. The crowd had no fucking clue you felt like shit while you gave them the show of their lives.

Time to act your fucking ass off.

You walked past Sam without a second glance, wishing you could ask him all the questions swirling around in your head. Tell him he was going to be okay. Give him a damn hug and tell him he was safe now.

But you wore that damn smile, all while your blood was boiling. You’d had a lot of dark fantasies about what you’d do to the person that took Max. In recent weeks that’d turned to include Sam too.

It turned out the monster was a hundred feet away from you inside some fucking mansion.

“Y/N,” said Sloane, appearing through a set of open doors in the house, catching your arm a little roughly. “Stay in public.”

“I need to talk-” She shot daggers at you, shutting you up.

“Stay in public for the love of god or Eric will kill me,” she said, loosening her grip. “In forty five seconds I need you to be the biggest distraction in the world. Do not go in any rooms with anyone. Your fame will keep you safe but only if there are people around to witness it. Eric has eyes on him. Do not ask questions. Understand?”

“Sam’s on the veranda,” you whispered, Sloane nodding. Cecilia must have told her and Eric about your brothers.

“Go give us a shot to get them out of here.” You nodded and slipped inside, heart thumping away in your throat. Max was with with Eric. Wherever he was, he was with Eric. He was safe. And Sam should have been with Sloane by then. They were both safe.

As long as they got them out of this house and into the damn car before anyone could notice. Before all those private security guards seemingly on the edge of every room could stop them. Your driver was fast though. They just had to get the boys in the car and they’d be alright.

So you needed to be a distraction. A big fucking distraction and buy them time. You froze in the middle of the hallway, watching Sebastian leave a room with Dean by his side, horribly annoyed from the looks of it. An idea sparked in your mind, one you hoped Dean forgave you for someday.

Yeah, you knew how to cause a big fucking distraction alright.

Dean POV

“You son of a bitch!” screamed Y/N. Normal people could scream loud. A goddamn professional singer that could belt out ballads while running? The whole house went silent at her ear piercing shriek. Even the string orchestra stopped playing. I stared at her as she climbed on top of a table in the center hall, my eyes going wide. “You fucking cheater! You’re a fucking cheater Dean Winchester!”

“Excuse me?” I said, a hundred already with their phones out with even more people piling into the house from the veranda. “Sweetheart-”

“Don’t sweetheart me!” she screamed again. What the fuck was happening? “You’re a cheating bastard! You swore you were different!”

“Y/N, get off the table,” I said gently, very aware of the many phones that were facing us, even some from the freaking staff and private event security. Y/N only backed away when I reached for her, fury in her eyes so visceral it felt like it burned. “Y/N what-”

“I know what you did with her! By the fucking cherry blossoms? Our cherry blossoms? You think you can sleep around on me? I’m the motherfucking Princess of Pop! The world fucking loves me!”

Something was wrong. Besides the fact I hadn’t cheated, Y/N wasn’t one to scream at people from tabletops. She wasn’t drunk and she wasn’t on drugs. And we had no fucking cherry blossoms. Except for the fact it was the code to get in her house.

Trust. She was asking me to fucking trust her right now in front of three hundred people while she tore down my reputation.

If my girl was losing her shit, well damn I was going to play right along.

“Oh get off your high fucking horse!” I shouted, Y/N flinching for a brief moment like it’d stung. “I never made you promises. We aren’t even fucking exclusive!”

“What?!” she shouted back as Sebastian came over, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps if you two could-”

“This bitch is a moron for thinking I’d ever want someone like her. Of course I’m dicking around with you! You really think I want some goodie two shoes like you?”

“Man whore!” she shouted.

“Fucking prude!” I screamed back, praying to god Y/N knew that every word out of my mouth was a lie. “No wonder no one wants to date you. Getting in your pants wasn’t even worth it!”

“Funny since getting in yours just takes a smile. I’m surprised you haven’t contracted every disease known to man you pig!”

“At least I get some! You’re wound up so tight surprised anything can fucking fit up there!” Fuck, I was really going to hate myself in the morning.

Y/N was halfway through screaming back at me when I felt both my phone and Y/N’s go off in my pocket.

YOUR BROTHERS ARE SAFE. HOST SECURITY KNOWS WE GOT THEM OUT. OUR SECURITY & FEDS ON THE WAY. ETA TEN MINUTES. DON’T TRUST LOCAL COPS. CORRUPTED. HOST IS BAD GUY. STAY AWAY FROM HIM AND GUARDS. DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO TO STAY IN PUBLIC.

“What the fuck does brothers safe mean?” I asked, tossing my phone to her. Y/N caught it one handed, her whole body relaxing momentarily before tensing again, her rage suddenly on it’s true target.

Sebastian Monroe.

“Our brothers were here,” she grit out. She ripped off her heels and hopped down onto the floor, stalking over to Sebastian slowly like he was her prey. Her face darkened and I swore she looked ready to tear someone’s throat out. “Our baby brothers were in this fucking house! As your servers! Not of their free will! No. No, they were being watched. Forced. Last I checked, our baby brothers were kidnapped and they didn’t get un-fucking kidnapped.”

She gripped her heel tight in her left hand, right clenched so hard I saw the bone against the skin of her knuckles.

“I don’t care if you weren’t the one that took them. But you kept them and I’m going to fucking destroy you for it,” she growled, approaching him as my brain tried to catch up.

“Y/N what are-”

“I saw Sam! And he was scared and said they’d kill him if he got caught talking to me. They’re safe now but Sam and Max were forced to live here. By him.” Her head turned towards Sebastian, his own head glancing at his security team. “What the fuck did you do to our brothers?”

It clicked for me what she’d been saying, what the text meant, why Y/N had acted so out of character. So full of hatred. But I barely had a chance to feel that same hatred.

Because in the blink of an eye, one of Sebastian’s guards grabbed at Y/N and her fist shot out, connecting with the man’s jaw. He seemed alarmed at her strength and fell back, another guard trying to get their hands on her.

“Get off!” she shouted, kneeing another guy before flipping him on his back. But there were too many of them and I rushed forward, yanking her behind me just as Sebastian got in my face.

He eyed me up and down, smirking at me. “Oh you two just made a big mistake.”

He clasped his hands together loudly as his guards surrounded us, turning his attention to the rest of the party.

“Let’s give the love birds some privacy to sort out their issues,” he chuckled. “And maybe keep an eye on the open bar, hm?”

He spun back around and leaned in close, the stench of cigars and alcohol on his breath.

“Get your brothers back here or I’ll fuck her up so badly there won’t be anything left to bury.” He gripped my shoulder, too forcefully. “And then I’ll bury you alive in the woods all the while the world will think you got in a drunken accident on the way home. After all you had a very loud and public argument tonight. With the friends I have in certain positions of authority…I can make even you two disappear like nothing.”

Y/N gripped the back of my suit jacket tight, a slight tremble in her hand as she listened to him speak.

“Get those boys back and get those guards back in the next ten minutes or I start cutting off pieces of the damn princess of pop.”

________

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean x #dean winchester fanfic #football au

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blouisparadise · 26 days

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Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of March. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Bloodsucker | Not Rated | 1,738 words

Harry and Louis’ passionate night takes a violent turn.

2) Hell Is A Teenage Boy | Explicit | 1,970 words

In the quiet suburbs of Roswell, the Tomlinson family has new neighbors: Harry and Alice Styles, a lovely and happy couple. Where Louis, a hopeless rebel fell for the man in the suit. Of course, he can't forget his pretty model wife holding his arm. Simple details.

3) Sweet But Psycho Only For You | Mature | 2,728 words

Finding your forever person is something that many dream to do. For some it takes longer than others and the trials it takes to get to that person can be overwhelming. For Harry it was simple. He didn’t have to relive a Shakespearean play or over exaggerated drama to find his love. He met his person at a corner store at 3am yelling at a clerk over cereal and instantly fell in love. It was all so simple. They dated, fought, fucked, moved in together. Oh, so simple. Until it wasn’t.

4) Blue Yarn | Explicit | 2,875 words

Louis was on his hands and knees on their bed, in nothing but the blue jumper Harry had knitted him, arching his back beautifully, fucking himself on… And Harry had to take one step closer before he realized that, outside of Louis’ bum, the end of his thickest knitting needle was poking out. Holy fucking shit. Louis was fucking himself on Harry's knitting needle.

5) To Make a Home Where There Is None | Mature | 3,907 words

Harry shows up and doesn't want to leave. Louis doesn't mind too much.

6) Your Hand In My Hand, So Still And Discreet | Explicit | 4,513 words

“It was about how cold he was under me. How still. It was knowing that even if he had died, even if he was already dead, he would still be mine.” Louis thought he knew each one of his boyfriend’s stories, secrets, and kinks. Turns out Harry was keeping a crucial one hidden away.

7) Haze On The Horizon | Explicit | 6,397 words

“— Louis?” He couldn’t speak. He should hang up. He should’ve never called. His breaths were building into a staccato. “…baby? Are you doing alright? Talk to me, please.” Harry sounded so concerned, and it was quickly weakening his defences. No. No, he wouldn’t. No- “Omega,” Harry called, voice low and just shy of his alpha voice, even through the phone, and Louis just… Louis broke. “I miss you! I-” he cried out, an agonising crack in his voice, a loud sob being ripped from him. “— I need you!” Louis sniffled harshly, slumping, before admitting, quieter, “I need you.” Louis finds himself unexpectedly going into soft heat. Which would’ve been fine, except he is hundreds of miles away from his alpha, Harry, and he needs him. They make it work.

8) Pour Some Sugar (Wax) On Me | Explicit | 11,213 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Okay, so I just need you to hug your legs to your chest for me, and we can get started.” Swallowing past the lump that has lodged in his throat, Louis reaches down and grabs his shins, hugging his legs up to his chest, effectively putting his bare asshole, taint, and balls on display.

9) The Room Thief | Not Rated | 12,321 words

Louis: Can I come over? Need your help. Niall: Did someone die? I don’t need to help you bury a body do I? Wait, did you behead one of your alpha flatmates? I hope it was the one that smells like cherries. That is such a weird scent for an alpha. It’s disturbing. And I can’t even smell it. Louis: I’ve just been kicked out. Can I crash on your couch? Niall: Zayn’s in class. I’m here so get over here NOW. Louis: Thanks mate. Gonna pack a few things and will head over. Be there in about a half hour.

10) I Dig Your Cinema | Explicit | 12,930 words

It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to see Harry’s latest film; it was a tragically pathetic fact that Louis had watched every single show and film, every interview, every red carpet that Harry had done since his ex-boyfriend had decided to leave Uni in the second year and pursue an acting career. It's just that he wanted to watch it on his own, in his flat, with a soft blanket, beer, ice cream, and a large box of tissues.

11) I'll Look After You | Mature | 15,471 words

I mean, when Harry inherited his late uncle's hybrid, he didn't necessarily expect this... Where Louis is a nice hybrid cat who's never lived with anyone but an old man, and who discovers the freedom of living with Harry...

12) I Don’t Want You | Mature | 35,941 words

Louis never wanted to be an omega. He didn’t want to end up like his mother- a submissive omega that married his father in an arranged marriage, and is now living her life as a baby making machine, and a trophy wife who can never voice her opinion- Louis was never the quiet type, he always said exactly what he thought. But life has a funny way of fucking him over and Louis finds himself forced into an arranged marriage with the one and only Harry styles.

13) Hiding Green Smiles | Explicit | 45,227 words

Louis’ heart is racing in his chest. The idea of temporary bonding—letting Harry bite down right on that spot without it being a real bond—makes his mouth go dry. He didn’t even know something like this existed! His mind fills with all the possibilities and questions. What’s it going to feel like? How will it affect his orgasms? How will it affect Harry’s knot? What parts of a bond does it simulate? When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent. He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months.

14) A Match Into Water | Not Rated | 68,756 words

“So, who’s the guy?” Louis startled at the question, immediately locking his phone and dropping it onto the beanbag cushion below him. This was a topic he desperately wanted to avoid with his friends, but it was bound to happen sooner or later. That didn’t mean he would try to avoid it though. “What guy?” He rushed out, looking at Liza with a dumbfounded expression, trying his best to avoid Niall and Jeremy clearly sharing a knowing look. “You’ve been on your phone nonstop, you’re never on your phone while working. Not to mention, you’re smiling at your phone like a nutter,” Niall pipes up, grinning at him facetiously.

15) I Would Rather Go Blind | Mature | 79,150 words

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Louis asked with confidence, his gaze briefly flickering to Harry's plump lips, a momentary hint of desire flickering in his eyes. "I…" Harry's voice caught in his throat as Louis' gaze travelled downward, coming to rest on his chest. Without hesitation, Louis raised his hands from the desk, bringing them to Harry's chest, helping him button the one he had missed. When he attempted to pull away, Harry's hand shot out and gripped at his wrist. "You're shaking," Louis observed, his eyes shifting to their joined hands before returning to meet Harry's gaze, unwavering. "It's…" Harry cleared his throat. "It's you. You make me… I don't know what is happening to me." "What do you feel?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "It's… warm," he began, shyly bringing Louis' hand against the centre of his chest over his shirt. "Here." His hand slid down to his stomach, their eyes locked in a powerful gaze. "And here." They remained silent for a moment, both captivated by the intensity of their connection. "Every time you're near me."

16) As Sweet As You Are | Mature | 87,394 words

Note: This fic was deleted and has now been reuploaded.

"Do you not have something more expensive?" The alpha gives him a weird look, resting his hands on the table. "Definitely not something the cost of that shade of blue that are your eyes," he responds effortlessly. "Why is a male omega on his own out in the middle of the woods at this time of night?" Harry speaks, staring intensely at the prince, smirk lingering on his face. "Your kind is rather rare. You should be more careful. There are a lot of rogue alphas around that won't blink until they've knotted and bred you up." The blue eyed omega swallows, shuffling in his seat awkwardly and looking anywhere but the alpha before him. "I ran away from home," Louis admits, occupying himself by taking a sip of the lager instead of thinking about the fact that the alpha hasn't yet taken his eyes off him. "My parents want me to marry someone I do not want to marry, so I ran."

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ruskaroma · 9 months

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omg omg (i really need professional help) i had this Vision of dark+DARK+mean!john wick learning about an asshole who bullied their bunny-really-the-nicest-human-being!reader back during her school years (the reader cluelessly mentions it during conversation). john is not just angry outraged etc, he is The Rage, The War, The Biblical Day of Wrath, so he finds that guy, beats/tortures the living shit out of him and then brings his absolutely clueless little pretty bunny so that she could finish him. john is behind the reader, his arms wrapped around her arms, his hands on her shaking hands holding a gun pointing at the barely breathing man tied to a chair. the reader is crying begging to stop, and john goes "he deserves it, honey <3. now, right kneecap. go, princess, don't let me down".

Oh my god I have something for you.

Let’s give it a very dark twist, shall we? We’ll stick to this concept, but let’s make it even darker.

TW: mentions of past sexual and physical abuse, blood and gore, graphic depiction of torture, john being a very very mean man like he is fucked in the head may god bless his soul, john is also forcefully making the reader kill the man so there’s that.

It was a slip of your tongue. You didn’t notice it, but John surely did. You were used to rambling your thoughts away, a habbit that John adores so much, hearing your voice and telling him everything that’s in your head, because it means you’re not keeping any secrets from him.

A supposed to be peaceful Saturday night ruined John’s whole week, but he didn’t let it show. He kept himself composed around you, smiling so softly when you’d share a random fact about the things you’re holding or whatever comes in mind. He’s a master in the arts of keeping his expression controlled despite his emotions practically clawing their way out of his fucking lungs.

Your head was on his lap as he brushed your hair with his long fingers softly. For a hand that’s killed too many people to count, it’s surprisingly merciful around you. A shitty horror movie was playing on the TV but your attention quickly diverted to somewhere else when you watched a rather familiar scene in the film.

“Oh, man, that sucks. I know how it feels, I used to get hit by my ex-boyfriend all the time.”

What the fuck, John thought. His fingers stopped their movements as he furrowed his eyebrows. You said it as a whisper too but he heard it. He heard it fucking clearly.

“What?”

“Huh?” You moved your head to look up to him. “You said something?”

“You did,” John pointed out. “About your ex-boyfriend. What did you say?”

“Ohhh,” you said in realization, but your tone was calm. Like it was the most fucking normal thing to say in a conversation. “Yeah, he was mean. He used to hit me every time I made a very small mistake, but he said sorry when we broke up.”

John didn’t know what to say. He was frozen, trying to comprehend the words that were being thrown at him all at once.

His baby – the love of his life, someone who cannot even hurt a fucking ant – just dropped a bomb that she was a victim of abuse.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” John tried to keep his voice leveled, soft, as he placed a large hand on your cheek and pulled you up so he could take a good look at your face.

“Well, you didn’t ask. And it’s not like it mattered anymore. I went to therapy and everything was back to normal.”

“No, that’s not –” he closed his eyes in frustration, trying so hard to keep his shit together. “Did he do anything else? Where is he now?”

“He’s–he’s doing fine. I don’t know where he is, it’s been awhile since we’ve gotten in touch.”

John could hear the tremble in your voice, like you knew what was going to come, like you knew what he’s going to do.

He didn’t answer after you said that. He looked away from you, put his attention back to the television.

You shrugged it off, hoping he would let it go.

He did not, in fact, let it go.

You came home one day after work to see him being rather... cheery than usual. It was unusual in itself. John being particularly cheery was not something you see in your everyday life.

He had already cooked dinner when you arrived, ate it beside you with an arm around your shoulders. He was also crooning at your ears, asking about your day if something special happened.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Your eyebrows flew up, curious yet amused. Is this why he was cheery all of a sudden?

He led you to his basement – a place where you’re never allowed to go, always bolted shut and completely restricted to you. You were getting a pretty bad feeling about this.

“What–what are we doing here, John?”

Again, he didn’t answer. You could see the grim, dark expression on his face as he opened the door. The face you only ever see when he was just coming back from a long, tiring day at work. The face you only see you know he just slaughtered someone.

Turns out, he did.

Not exactly slaughtered, but close enough.

The man who made you go through hell for years, tied up in a chair in the middle of the room, missing all his fingers on both his feet and hands.

“John, what the–”

Your boyfriend pushed a heavy pistol in your hand, and your heart is beating so hard inside your chest you couldn’t speak properly. You haven’t yet got the time to comprehend what was happening. It was all too fast.

“Pull it.”

“J-John, please don’t–”

“Pull it,” John repeated. He didn’t like repeating himself. You know this. He was standing behind you, his chest pressing against your back, warm and broad and his voice sounded so menice and fucking evil and– “Pull it, baby, before I do it myself.”

“Why are you–” your voice was shaking as well as your hands. You wanted to drop the weapon but you knew it wouldn’t do you any good, not when John was just behind you. “Why are you doing this, John? Please let him–let him go, it was a long time ago–”

“I don’t care,” he said simply, one large hand sneaking down to grab your wrist that’s holding the gun, pointing it directly at the man who’s – Jesus, was he still alive? You saw him move, he flinched, then let out a cough that made more blood from his mouth drip onto his lap. “I haven’t killed him yet because that’s your job.”

“N-No–” tears were forming into your eyes. The feeling of John’s hand gripping yours was already too much to bear, much worse pointing it to the man who abused and neglected you during your relationship, but why were you feeling bad? “John, I–I don’t w-want to, John, please, I don’t want–”

John sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t let you go. Instead, he leaned down closer to your ear and pressed a soft kiss there. His beard tickled, making you flinch and let out a shaky breath as you gulped hard.

“John, he–I know you’re doing this because you think it’s best, but I–I promise you that it’s not worth it–it’s in the past and, and–”

“Excuses, excuses,” John whispered, standing straight and taking a step away from you, positioning himself in front of the gun. “Here you are, begging for the life of the man who abused you in the past. Don’t you think that sounds absolutely ridiculous, baby?”

“It’s not–it’s not ridiculous, John, I promised! We–we talked one time after our breakup and he–he apologized for everything, I swear–I swear, John, it was all in the past–”

John cut off your rambling with an evil stare, and it was so unlike him that it scared you right to the very core. “Pull the trigger or I will. I’ll put a fucking hole in his head, saw it off and send it to his little wife and children back in Vegas.”

“John–” you sobbed. “John, please–”

“Did you know that I made him confess every diabolical shit that he’d done to you every time I chop off one of his fingers?” John said it in such a calm and steady tone that it made you only afraid of him even more. “I chopped all his fingers, and he still won’t stop confessing more. Can you believe that?”

“I already forgave him–I already forgave him, John, this wasn’t necessary–”

“It won’t be the same if I’m the one who pulls the trigger now, would it? It wouldn’t be fair, because I’m not the one who suffered under his hands,” John pushed even further, walking back to his original position behind you, gripping your arm and pointing the pistol directly at his head. “If you don’t pull that fucking trigger in the next five second, I’ll let you use a chainsaw to do it and trust me when I say you wouldn’t want it messy.”

You gulped, feeling yourself grow more and more afraid as John stood behind you. He was radiating anger, but he was keeping it at bay, though his swear words might be some of the leakage of his emotions he couldn’t contain any longer.

“I don’t want–don’t make me d-do this, John–”

“One...”

“John, please–”

“Two....” His voice was scary. Deep and level, and the grip on your arm tightened. You felt suffocated.

“I’m gonna throw u-up if I–”

“Three...” He was getting agitated.

The man’s head rose up from his position earlier to meet your eyes, and you swore you felt your stomach churn. His eyes were fucking gone.

The man opened his mouth to speak and a weak voice came. “D-Don’t–”

You pulled the trigger.

“There’s my little bunny.”

You dropped the gun as soon as his brains flew against your face and onto the wall, painting it red. You couldn’t bear to watch any further. You turned with a sob and buried your face in John’s chest, crying hysterically as he soothed you calmly by petting your head.

“Good girl. You did so fucking good, I’m so proud of you.”

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asumofwords · 7 months

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So I see you’re going to open up requests soon??? 👀

Lemme just put this one there to marinate because some of the asks have really put the thought in my head with no sign of it leaving me be.

Spooky season is coming!!!!

I rewatch the Haunting series on Netflix every October so I’m kinda feeling a Bly Manor type possession fic. SFA one shot or not, but Aemond’s dead and they were definitely in love. When reader moves on after his death and eventually meets someone she can fall in love with again, maybe she brings him home and Aemond possesses her new man just so he can fuck her again. Bonus points if she doesn’t know the first few times but keeps wondering how her new boo knows exactly what she likes before Aemond finally reveals himself and ultimately, she lets it continue because she gets her Aemond again.

Just some thots

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Death, murder, sadness, depression, thoughts of suicide, talks of blood and gore, moving on, haunted estate, possession, fear, anger, smut, chasing, blood, choking, slapping, fucking, creampie, degradation, rough sex, angry sex, dub-con, slight non-con, confusion, grief, Cregan being possessed by your late husband, spooky vibes.

Pairings: Ghost!Aemond x Reader / Aemond Targaryen Possession Fic, Cregan Stark x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x reader

Notes: Look.... I'm such a Cregan Stark slut, I'm gonna throw him in wherever I can... Hope you enjoy!!!! Hehehe, I hope I have done your request some justice!!! I really enjoyed writing this <3

Aemond Targaryen was a man that could not be summarised by mere words. You didn’t believe that you could ever find enough of them to describe him, if any could come close to it. He was kind, quiet at times, calculating, but passionate. And that was why you had married him. His passion for you was so strong it almost burnt, the flames of it constantly flickering over you like fire.

You had been married for some time, meeting at University, Advanced History and the Politics of Old, and instantly falling for the quiet man who had sat up the back, hand constantly writing notes on paper. He had this charm that surrounded him, and the day you had gotten the courage to ask him out, pacing in front of your mirror all morning, practising the words over and over in your head and aloud, he beat you to it, seemingly having done the same thing.

You were married a year later, a quick turn around, but happy with bliss and the love that you had for each other. Years flew by together and eventually you began to plan for a child, and Aemond in his excitement, invited his family over to announce this to them. His mother, unbeknownst to him, invited his half-sister Rhaenyra, her children, and her husband, Daemon; A man Aemond had once admired, but now despised.

And because of this, tragedy struck.

At first the evening went well, but with the presence of his nephew, Lucerys, the boy who had taken his eye in an accident at a young age, Aemond’s anger simmered that night between him and his uncle, Daemon, and with the alcohol that flowed heavily from the table during your celebrations, a fight broke loose.

You could still see it. Still see it move behind your eyelids like a film, slow motion, then quick, then slow again.

Aemond’s fist flying into Daemon’s cheek, a man much taller and broader than your husband. You had shot up from your chair to reach them, but Alicent had held you back whilst Rhaenyra tried to pull her husband away from her half-brother, who Daemon knelt over, fist after fist striking the younger mans face. You had screamed when Daemon was finally pulled up and away by his angry wife, concern thrown down to her estranged sibling, her violet eyes roaming him for injury.

But your Aemond, your sweet, sweet Aemond, head strong and stubborn as he was, didn’t know when to stop, and so, jumping up from the ground, face bloodied and lips bleeding, Aemond’s hand had snatched a steak knife from the table, charging for Daemon, who pushed Rhaenyra out of the way.

The next thing you knew, Aemond lay lifeless on the floor, knife in his unseeing eye, blood pooling on the floor around him. You had screamed and ran to him, sobbing over his corpse as Daemon stood in shock, looking at his now bloodied hand whilst Alicent blinked down at her son.

Daemon went to jail, a short term for murdering your husband, self defence they had said, since Aemond made the first move and grabbed the knife. And whilst Daemon sat in a cell, visited by his children and wife, you were left alone in the large estate that you had together, bereft with grief and uncertain if life would ever move on without him.

You had thought about it, once or twice, grabbing a razor or taking one too many of the pills the doctors had prescribed for your debilitating depression, or perhaps reaching beneath the sink to grasp at Aemond’s old pain medication and taking the entire lot. But each time you thought of it, you just couldn’t do it. Too cowardly to go forward with it, which almost always ended with you on the floor where he had died, sobbing into the flagstones.

It had been five years when you met him, five years when you decided to get back out into the world. Or not really decided, more like forced to by Helaena, Aemond’s older sister, who had been your life boat through grieving the loss of her brother. She had told you that Jacaerys, her nephew she had no qualms with despite the family tension, had a friend that you would get along with. Someone kind and gentle, and so far away from being anything like Aemond, that it was a safe bet.

And so one night of a blind date with Cregan Stark, Helaena and her girlfriend Cassandra joining as a buffer, turned into two, which then turned to three, then four, until soon enough, you were falling for the man.

He was courteous. Tall and broad, with long, dark hair and a short beard, or more like stubble that had been left untouched for days on end. He had kind grey eyes, that looked like a winters storm that swirled each time he gazed at you.

And he was different. That’s what you likened as to why you liked him.

He was the complete opposite of Aemond.

Where Aemond was fiery and warm, Cregan was cool and patient, always waiting for you to make the first step. Whenever you would fight, if at all you would manage to get him to react, it would always end with him apologising to you.

Even when you were in the wrong.

That was one thing you hated about it.

He would never rise to your goading, never rise to the bait you would set for him to flare his temper. Sure, he would get angry, his wild grey eyes alight with something, but it would pass as soon as a storm, and he would leave to walk it out, or ask for space.

You missed how it had been with Aemond. How you could goad him into anger, to have him fold you over any surface and have his way with you, rutting into you violently and cruelly, as he ripped peak, after peak from you, until you begged for mercy, tears falling down your cheeks.

But Cregan was different, softer, sweeter, and not at all like your hot headed late husband.

And this, you were thankful for.

In some ways at least.

It had been over a year of dating when you finally asked him to move into the estate with you. He lived awhile away, and you were alone in a house that had close to a hundred rooms and only memories to haunt you. It only felt right to fill it up with one more person.

The estate was old, and although Aemond had died within its walls, you just couldn’t leave it.

You were stuck.

Feeling drawn to its stones and halls, and even the mere thought of parting with it made you breathless.

Though, there was something about the old estate that made your skin crawl.

It had always made you uncomfortable, and it was something that you had voiced to Aemond upon many a times, and he would always assure you, that they could not touch you, whoever they were.

But something was different.

Something had changed in the years past since Aemond had died.

Helaena had once come to the estate, months after the fact, and gone pale, looked right past you as though she was looking at someone there. But when you had turned, there was no-one. Not a soul, or wisp, or a particle. Just air.

But it was cold. And Helaena had told you, whilst staring behind, that Aemond would always be with you.

But you knew he would. You had his memories, his photos, his clothes that you had folded in trunks in the attic, or the blanket that still smelt very much like him that you would curl into on lonely nights and breathe in his scent.

Of course he would always be with you.

He was your first love.

But there was something about the estate.

You just didn’t know what.

It didn’t help that no matter what you did, you felt like you were being watched. But the building was as old as the hills, and your therapist had told you it was likely just your hyper observance and PTSD to blame.

There were no ghosts in the house, no ghouls or monsters. It was just you.

You and the empty walls, and halls that used to house his voice, and his smile, and his laughter.

You were lonely, that much was sure, and although you loved Cregan, you truly did, it would just never match the love you and Aemond had. Not that you were comparing the two to each other in that way. Aemond was fire, Cregan was ice. They were both two very different people who loved in two very different ways. And you knew, much to your grief, that it was time to move on.

Time to move forward with your life.

And so you did. With Cregan. And that feeling of being watched only amplified. The feeling of heat on the back of you neck, being watched wherever you went, multiplying by tenfold with Cregan’s now permanent presence.

The rooms would suddenly get cold, to the point that he had even noted it, but had explained it away; His home back in Winterfell was older than this estate, and it too had cold spots in it.

It didn’t mean anything, it was just the old buildings, with old drafts, and terrible old insulation.

But something felt off since he moved in.

You always felt like you were being watched but it had changed to something more angry. Like something was always in the corner of your eye when with him, especially when intimate. But Cregan, with this kind eyes and unbendable patience, listened to your worries, and ensured you that it was fine, and even if there was an entity in the estate, it could not touch you, nor harm you, and probably didn’t even know you were there, lost in a world of its own.

Yet, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of it. Maybe it was because you were moving on, and feeling guilty about doing so.

You didn’t move into your old room that had been yours and Aemond’s. That was off limits. Closed for good, unless you wished to go in there and sit for a while. It had been over six years, six long years without him, but maybe, just maybe, Aemond would want you to move on.

Yes, you were sure of it.

He would want you to be happy, to move on. Not forget about him, but to continue on with your life without him, despite the feeling that your life had stopped with him the day he was killed.

You still had night terrors about it, picturing his body on the floor, lifeless and cold, blood pooled beneath his head, seeing eye staring up unfocused.

The terrors had gotten worse when Cregan had moved in. You would wake with a scream, and the vision and smell of blood before you, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, and the feeling as though something, or someone, had be pushing down on your chest. And each time, Cregan would be there for you, to ground you, to bring you back to the present and hold you as you sobbed in his arms, and eventually went back to sleep, skin tingling with the feeling of an extra eye on you.

But Cregan made you feel safe.

There were many things about Cregan that you adored. His loyalty to his friends and family, his smile when excited or pleased, the way he would hold you tightly against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin as you inhaled deeply.

And to top it all off, he was an amazing lover.

Sleeping with Cregan was different to what it had been like with Aemond. He was gentler, softer, less rough and violent. Which was something you actually missed. When once you had asked Cregan to wrap his large hands around your throat, he had blushed and looked away, saying he needed time to work his way up to that. And so you dropped it, and respected that boundary.

It wasn’t that the sex wasn’t good, it was. Cregan knew how to bring you to your peak with practised skill. It was just that it wasn’t what you needed. You needed a release. A cathartic bloom of pleasurable pain, submission and dominance, to not be in control, to let someone take the reins and bring you to a warm and fuzzy place that Aemond called ‘Sub Space’. You needed to feel the ache of being roughly handled, to see the bruises of Cregan’s love on your skin the next day or week after, but he was almost afraid of hurting you.

Gods bless that sweet man.

Footsteps clumped from down the hall as the tv softly played the previews of a new show on Netflix. You leant back against the couch, tucked under a thick blanket as you watched Cregan enter the lounge room with two bowls in hand.

“What are we watching?” His deep voice curled around the room, eyes darting to the tv as you scrolled down, trying to find something the two of you could watch.

“I don’t know.” You flicked to the Recommended For You section, the couch dipping beside you as he sat, placing the steaming bowls of pasta in front of you, “Thanks.” You pecked his cheek lightly, before looking back at the screen.

“What are our options?” His fork clinked on the edge of his bowl as he twirled the long pasta up his fork, shoving it into his mouth beside you.

“Pride and Prejudice-“

“-2005 or BBC?” Cregan interrupted.

“2005 obviously.” You smirked, turning back to the tv, “Jurassic Park, Knives Out,” You flicked through the recommendation list, hearing a snicker beside you as you moved past 365 Days, “Gone Girl-“

“Gone Girl? What’s that?” Cregan asked between chews, large hand reaching to place your own bowl into your lap.

You grinned, “Only one of the best movies ever. Have you really not seen it?” You turned to face him, watching as he shook his head. “Gone Girl it is.”

The movie began to play as you settled in at his side, eating the dinner he had made you both. Cregan was engrossed in the film, and made you laugh as he screamed profanity at the tv, already hating Ben Affleck's character thinking he had killed his wife.

Towards the end of the movie however, Cregan was cheering Amy on, getting excited as it went through her step by step revenge plan. You were almost at the crescendo of the film when you felt Cregan shift beside you, his audible stream of consciousness suddenly stopped.

You turned your head to look at him.

The large man was sitting stiff as a board beside you, grey eyes narrowed onto your face. It was as if all emotions had slid away, leaving a cool exterior. You frowned, turning your body to face him completely, watching as his eyes slid carefully over your body.

“Are you okay?” You asked, wondering what had changed his mood so suddenly.

Cregan’s eyes blinked slowly, lids half hooded as he peered at you.

There was something about it that was familiar.

Something about it that sent a shiver down your spine.

And as if it didn’t happen, Cregan blinked again, shaking his head slightly, large hand coming to press at an eye as though in pain.

Your hand reached out to rest on his shoulder, “Hey, are you okay?” Concern written on your features.

Brows furrowed, he winced, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye, “Sorry.” He apologised through gritted teeth, “Migraine came out of nowhere.”

Sympathy rolled through you. Standing from the couch you clicked your tongue, “That’s no good. Let me get you some pain killers.”

Your bare feet pressed into the cold flagstones as you headed to the large kitchen, bending at the waist to rifle in the small medicine box under the sink.

The box was old, something left over from Aemond, with the painkillers still inside that he used for whenever his eye and scar was giving him bother. You spotted the small silver packet of pain killers beside Aemond’s old ones, out of date and not useful to anyone, and yet you still could never bring yourself to get rid of them, as though your brain worried that they would be needed out of habit despite him no longer being there anymore.

Bypassing your late husbands medication, you pulled at the small packet of regular painkillers and made your way back to the lounge room, worrying over Cregan’s sudden pain.

He never usually had migraines or headaches, but it had become something more frequent since he moved in. His doctor had said it could be allergies, or perhaps even the presence of black mould in the old estate, but you had hired mould cleaners, and even mould detecters who brought in an old dog to sniff about the property, and they, not once, found any sign of damp or growing fungus.

Entering the lounge you spotted Cregan, sitting stiff backed on the couch, head immediately flicking to you.

“I got you some pain killers,” You walked towards him, popping two little pills out of the foil packet, “Is it bad?”

Cregan’s lips twitched slightly as he watched you, eyes narrowed, and yet he did not answer.

Must be bad if he’s not talking.

“Here.” You held your hand out, waiting to place the two painkillers into his palm.

Cregan Stark watched you with hawklike eyes, not taking the pills from you. Suddenly he stood, large frame towering over you as he looked down his nose at you, face devoid of any emotion, and a certain strike of familiarity sparked inside your mind.

Why does this feel familiar?

A large hand struck out, grabbing you neck roughly, squeak falling from your lips as you were tugged towards Cregan, his lips finding yours in a rough and bruising kiss, his straight teeth nipping at your bottom lip roughly, tingles climbing up your spine. He kissed you until you were out of breath, hand not releasing itself from your neck, keeping you firmly to him until you parted bare centimetres away to catch your breath, lips brushing against each other as you heaved.

“What's gotten into you?” You breathed heavily, want coursing through you.

The pink of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, though moving slower as though he was savouring the taste of you on him, “I’ve missed this.” Came a deep purr from within his chest.

A smirk pulled at your mouth, “You had me last night.” You teased, nibbling at your bottom lip, wondering where this sudden burst of lust had come from.

Cregan merely grunted as he crashes his lips back against yours, fingers tightening around your throat in a way that you had begged him to do for months, cutting the supply of blood flow making your head spin. You mewled as he broke the kiss, spinning you around to push you over the edge of the couch arm.

Air was ripped from your lungs as he pushed his weight onto your lower back with his hand, fingers ripping at your clothes to reveal your slick folds to the room.

There was no preparation, no warning, just the sudden and sharp bite of his length pushing into your walls. You cried out, hands grasping at the pillows as he set a rough pace, his length dragging in and out of you sharply as he grunted from behind.

Cregan’s weight pushed into your spine as he continues to rut into you wildly, feet dangling uselessly as he fucking you over the arm of the couch, hands gripping the pillows tightly in your hands. It was the first time he had ever fucked you with such vigour, without care, and it set your nerves alight.

You whined beneath him, feeling closer and closer to your peak, slick coating your thighs and his length, the wet sound of flesh against flesh behind you.

“Always such a good little slut for me.” Cregan growled, and the sound sent tremors through you.

Your brows furrowed, a nagging sensation in the back of your mind telling you that something was not quite right. That Cregan would never call you that, had never called you that, and that it was something that Ae-

Blinding white pleasure burst through you as you came, Cregan moaning behind you as he felt your walls tighten around his length. You whined beneath him, body going slack as he sought out his own peak, rutting into you frantically until he came with a grunt, warmth filling your walls.

You slumped against the couch, mind hazy as your climax scrambled all thoughts. A kiss was pressed against your shoulder blade and a small hiss came from behind as your boyfriend pulled out of your core. Too tired to move, and the man clearly sensing that, you were scooped up into two large arms and carried off to your bedroom.

The rest of the evening a blur of being cleaned, given water to drink, and then the soft sheets and warmth of a body pressed up against you in bed, large hand stroking over your hair lovingly as you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke the next morning, it was to a grunt of pain and not pleasure. Cregan was laid on his back, hand once again pressed into his eye as his brows furrowed, desperate to alleviate the pain that settled behind it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, turning to face him, watching as he tried to compose himself, a soft wince pulling at his features.

“Migraine again.” Cregan whispered into the early morning air.

Your hand out of habit, moved to soothe the hair at the top of his head on the side of the eye pain, in a way that was purely instinctual, in a way that you had for many years with Aemond whenever he would wake in pain, or lay in silence, biting roughly at his own lips to try and get through it alone.

Pressing a kiss to the side of Cregan’s face you crawled out of bed, “You didn’t take the painkillers last night that’s why. I’ll go get you some more.”

You had brought him the painkillers and forced him to take them with a whole glass of water, before settling back into the covers with him, soothing his long brown hair away from his face as the pain slowly dissipated away from his features.

The next week, it happened again.

The headache.

The cool half lidded gaze.

The sudden change in demeanour.

The things that he did and said reminded you so much of Aemond, that you felt immediate guilt for thinking of your late husband whilst in the throws of a rough fuck with your new boyfriend. But this time you took the reins, and told him to slow down, told him that you wanted it softer, more loving, more him.

“Sl-slow down.” You pleaded from below, thighs pressed against your chest as Cregan pushed his whole length inside of you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

His eyes narrowed on you as he grunted, fucking into you harder instead, “No.” He growled, and a small spark of fear sparked up your spine.

Tears welled in your eyes as you pushed at his chest, “S-stop. Cregan, stop.” Your nails dug into his chest as you tried to push him off of you, yet his pace didn’t falter.

Your brain in its confusion pushed out a word you hadn’t used in years, a word that was reserved for you and Aemond only, a word that was to be used if you wanted all things to end.

“Perzys.”

Fire.

Cregan immediately stopped, eyes blinking suddenly as he looked down at you in a moment of confusion, and then concern. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him, your own confusion and sorrow swirling inside of you.

How did he-

“What’s wrong?”

A tear slid down your cheek as you felt him looking over you, blinking again as though trying to rise from a fog, and yet he had stopped. He stopped with a word that he shouldn’t have even known.

Or maybe you had told him. Maybe you had, a long time ago? Maybe he was confused by your sudden use of the foreign word? Maybe-

“You’re scaring me.” Your words came out breathlessly, all desire having leaked from your body and replaced with a myriad of others.

Guilt.

Fear.

Confusion.

Grief.

It was too real.

It was too familiar.

It was-

“I thought this was what you wanted, ñuha-“ Cregan’s hand flew to his eye, pressing into it roughly as he gasped out in pain.

You scrambled to sit up, pulling his length from inside of you as you held onto his face, soothing his hair away, fear replaced with worry.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked in concern, watching as Cregan’s teeth ground down on each other, low grunt of agony passing through his clenched teeth.

“Let me see.” You begged, mind going into autopilot as you gently grasped his wrist, pulling his hand away from his eye as he blinked down at you in surprise for a moment, a multitude of emotions flashing across his face before his hand rose, and then his face crumpled once again, and the heel of his hand pushed back into his eye.

You sprung into action, body already taking you immediately to get painkillers for him, hand reaching for the little yellow pill container before having to grab the others.

Eventually you got him to settle into bed, begging him to see a doctor, before the two of you finally agreed to see one later that week.

And what an uneventful doctors visit that was.

Two MRI’s, CT scans, and blood tests later, the doctor gave him the all clear. No growths to be seen, or unusual brain activity, not even a simple vitamin deficiency; Cregan was the pinnacle of health. The Stark came out of the doctors office with reassurance that there was no malignant growth or anything to be worried about, but a warning that perhaps stress was the causation for his sudden pains. He was given instructions to rest, and so Cregan took sick leave for the rest of the month.

Two weeks into Cregan’s rest, and the both of you were pleased to find that Cregan didn’t have another migraine attack. Nor did his demeanour suddenly change like the last time, much to your relief.

Winter had begun to roll into the realm, and the estate, being as old as it was, became far colder at times, inside than out. The fires were constantly lit to keep you both warm, and it made for a rather romantic setting for the two of you.

That morning you had gone out to get a nice bottle of wine to bring home. You were going to surprise Cregan with a home cooked meal, a nice bottle of red, and then after, if you were both feeling inclined, which you knew you would be, a slow and gentle fuck in front of the fireplace.

You had gone out of your way to avoid him that day, going to the shops to buy ingredients, prepping the dinner as quietly and quickly as you could, lighting candles in the casual lounge room for the two of you, and placing some fluffed pillows before the hearth to lounge in.

It was perfect.

Your dinner was cooked, and you were ready for the evening and with good timing. You heard Cregan walking through the hall as you put his bowl next to yours on the coffee table, placing the nice bottle of wine in the centre as you brushed down the sides of your dress and made sure your hair was perfect.

The dress you wore was tight and black, and although you had thought of wearing heels, there was no need to in your own home, so you went bare foot. Beneath your dress lay a lacy surprise. You waited to see Cregan enter the room, to see his smiling eyes and warm grin at you, but he kept on. Walking straight past the lounge, his footsteps disappearing down the vast hall.

You stood in confusion for a moment.

Maybe he was going to the bathroom.

Maybe he didn’t know you were there or that you had cooked dinner.

But he would have smelt it.

And he would have known.

You waited for a while longer, hoping he was making his way back, but when he didn’t, you began to grow impatient, leaving your steaming dinner behind to go in search for him. In that moment you cursed the vastness of the estate, but knew that Cregan wasn't really one to explore it. He kept to what he knew, and so you went to those spaces.

He wasn’t in your shared room.

Or the dining hall.

Or one of the many bathrooms.

Nor was he in the kitchen.

The estate was cold, and dark, and the coolness of the home creeped up your bare feet and into your spine, sending shivers running down it. You called out his name, hoping he would come to you so that you would eat.

But no response came.

It wasn’t until you were climbing the stairs back to your bedroom that you noticed a light on in a distant room.

A room far down the end of the east wing. A room in which Cregan knew he wasn’t allowed inside. A room in which you had not been inside of for a long, long time.

A pang of hurt and anger rose inside of you as you went towards it, feet slapping against the stones as you got closer and closer, unready and unwilling to be reasonable for such a boundary being crossed.

This was not what you had planned for the evening.

The hallway became shorter, as you got closer, and the air in the hall changed. It became colder. Sharper. More charged. And the anger that you had within you, slowly began to crackle as you came to a stop, spotting Cregan standing in Aemond’s study, his large back to you.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, hurt rising within as he stood in front of Aemond’s old desk.

There was the smallest of whispers of something not being right that began to grow in the back of your mind.

But Cregan did not answer you, nor did he turn to look at you when he would have no doubt heard you enter.

The room opened a wound you thought had been closed.

And Cregan had done that.

You stepped towards him again, no answer still from his lips.

You thought he was better than this.

You thought that he respected this boundary.

What did he want from coming into this room?

Why would he be in here?

You looked at his posture.

Bone straight.

His large hands clenching and unclenching at his side as his head stayed straight on.

Something wasn’t right.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” You told him, voice wary as you stopped yourself mere feet away from him.

Again, no answer.

Did something happen?

Was this a test?

“Cregan?”

And then you heard it.

A low chuckle.

A sound that in your years of dating Cregan, you had not heard once.

And in your years of his absence, you had missed.

It was a chuckle that sent ice running down your spine.

And yet, your feet took you forward anyway.

“Cregan?” You asked again, wariness in your voice as you tried to peer around his side and look at his face.

Was this a dream?

A nightmare?

A hum. All that came from his chest, was a deep and oh too familiar hum.

“Hm.”

Your spine stiffened, and it felt as though the air in the room turned to ice, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“This isn’t funny, Cregan. Get out.” One last attempt of courage, one last attempt of standing your ground, or at least your first attempt, which came and flew and crashed to the ground in flames.

Cregan finally shifted, turning to face you, and although it was the face of your boyfriend, it was the mannerisms of your late husband which caused you to gasp out in fear. On Cregan’s soft lips, was the sharp pull of a smirk that Aemond almost always reserved for you.

“I’ve missed you zaldrītsos.” Little dragon.

Horror flooded you.

“Cregan.” You warned in clenched teeth, afraid that if they were open, they’d chatter, “This isn’t funny.”

Growling, a tear fell down your cheek, your hands clenched into fists as you looked at him.

He had no right to be in this room.

He had no right to call you that name.

To act as he did.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Another smirk, and a step towards you, “Cregan is indisposed.”

Another tear fell down your cheek as you took a step backwards and away, watching as his eyes roamed down your body, “Cut it out, Creg. I’m serious.”

Brown hair cascaded over his shoulder as he tilted his head at you, clicking his tongue, “Oh, I'm deathly serious.” Came his purr-like response.

Your heart raced against your ribcage, blood rushing into your ears as you stared at him in shock and fear.

This-

It couldn’t-

It wasn’t-

“Aemond?” You breathed.

And it was the smile that did it for you. The smile you had prayed and hoped and dreamed to see every day for the years without it, yet now, seeing it up close on the face of your boyfriend scared the living wits from you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted lightly on his feet, not at all in the clunky manner that Cregan would have, but it in a smooth, calculated way that was every movement Aemond would make, “Have you missed me?”

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t speak, even if you dared to.

It must be a dream.

A cruel dream.

A nightmare in which you would wake from soon.

But it felt too real.

It felt too sure.

He was here.

There, right in front of you. But it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t his body, his face, his voice.

But it was him.

He took another step towards you, and your stumbled backwards, mouth agape as you looked at him, the shadows of the dark lit room falling across his face.

And then there it was.

That Cheshire Cat smile.

“Run."

Your feet bound on the flagstones as you fled in terror, racing down the stairs to try and escape, to leave the estate, to get to your car and go, or your phone, or anywhere that wasn’t near him. To get away from him. It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him.

It was.

It was him.

Air struggled to get into your lungs as you ran as fast as you could, hands catching themselves on the stone walls, nails biting into them as you caught yourself taking sharp corners, the dark halls and stairways causing your heart to race faster, feeling as though they were closing in on you.

You didn’t dare look back.

You knew he was there.

You knew he was chasing you.

Something you had done together for fun, for pleasure, but now, you were struck with terror.

But there it was, sweet salvation.

The floor crashed up towards you as you landed heavily on your knees, tripping on the last step, not wasting anytime to check for injury nor even feel the blood that dripped down your legs, knees skinned from landing on the ancient stone floors.

But there it was.

The main hall.

And there at the end, your way out.

Your escape.

The front doors of the estate.

You raced for it, heart in your throat, air barely in your lungs as they screamed for a reprieve, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you got closer and closer, fear still crawling up your throat, threatening to break through as a scream.

And scream you did as your body was hauled off of your feet and into the air by a pair of large arms, wrapped around your centre. You kicked and clawed as you tried to get away from him, mind racing a million miles an hour, unsure of what was happening, and if it was even possible, but desperate to get away.

Not a sound, nor a jeer, nor a tease came from the man behind you. Not even a word to reassure you that this was a game, that it was Cregan, that you were safe, that this was just a long planned part of a fantasy you had expressed you wanted and he had denied.

There was no reassurance.

There was no check in.

Because it wasn’t Cregan.

It was Aemond.

And as he hauled you back down the hall and up the stairs, kicking and screaming, back to his study, tears falling from your cheeks, you knew that it was him. You knew that it had been the slightest glimmers of him in Cregan the past month. Those migraines were more, those changes were more, and you had ignored them.

Your hips collided with the desk of Aemond's study as he threw you into it, hands desperate to catch your fall, spreading across the desk knocking over items that had not been touched nor moved for years.

“I’ve had to watch him fuck you, every night.” He growled from behind, as you tried to push yourself up, his body caging you into his desk. There was a flicker of familiarity of the times you had once found yourself in a similar predicament.

“I’ve had to hear your moans and whines, knowing they were for someone else.” He said angrily, pulling at your dress, ripping it upwards as you tried to pull it back down, hands clawing backwards at his arms.

“You’re insane!” You screamed at him, “Get off me, Cregan!”

Aemond chuckled from behind, “You know it’s me. You always did like it rough,” His hands smacked yours away from him, shoving your face down on the desk again, “And poor Cregan just couldn’t do that for you, could he?”

Tears fell onto the desk below you, brain short circuiting as you didn’t know what to do or how to react, “Cregan, this isn’t funny.” You tried one last time, hoping his name would reach him, to snap him out of whatever this was, “Please, stop.”

Two large hands wrapped themselves around your wrists, bringing them both into one as he squeezed, face coming to the side of yours as he growled deeply, “Stop. Calling. Me. That.”

Aemond’s free hand ripped at your lace panties that you had worn for Cregan, tearing them to shreds from your body, the burn of the material hot against your skin. His hips pressed into you from behind roughly, and you stifled a confused and frightened sob.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy like I’ve wanted to for years.” He emphasised with a grind against your backside, “I’ve had to watch you cry over me, my sweet byka mēre.” Little one, You sobbed loudly at the name, “Ao sagon ñuhon. Iksan dōrī ivestragī jā.” You’re mine. I am never letting you go.

It was him.

It was truly him.

Cregan couldn’t speak Aemond’s native tongue.

Cregan didn’t know the names your late husband had called you.

It was him.

It was Aemond.

You sobbed beneath him, you didn’t know if it was in relief, in horror, or in fear.

You were so confused.

“Valzȳrys?” Husband, You cried, trying to turn your head, but knowing that you would be met with a face that didn’t match.

Long fingers brushed through your folds, finding them slick already, “Shhh.” Aemond quietened you, “Let me take care of my ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

Aemond smeared your slick through your folds with the tip of his cock as he brushed against your bud and then pushed inside of you. A long groan fluttered through his chest, vibrating against your back.

He set a brutal pace immediately, the old, heavy, wooden desk jutting with each thrust, your hips no doubt bruised from the force. Tears still fell from your eyes as you cried out, feeling him pull you by your hair, causing your back to arch up against his front as he fucked into you harder, hot pants in your ear.

Aemond fucked you in a way that only he knew how, pulling mewl after mewl from you with every stroke, large palm squeezing at your throat whilst the other moved to grasp at your hip, pulling you back onto his cock roughly, slick dripping down your thighs as the coil within you began to tighten.

“So fucking tight for me.” He grunted from behind, hand coming to your front to gather some slick from your folds as he parted them further, his cock plunging inside of you from between them, “So fucking wet. I have missed this little pussy.”

His fingers pressed against your bud, swirling in time with his thrusts, causing your pleasure to mount faster and faster, the tears having stopped falling from your eyes as you moaned loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder.

Your release was bounding towards you rapidly, and Aemond felt it.

“Squeezing me so good, you gonna cum for me already?”

You nodded, feeling a smirk beside your cheek as he pressed harder against your bud, “Cum for me.”

The coil snapped, and warmth flooded over your body as your writhed in his grip, walls gripping his cock as you came hard. Aemond increased his pace, fucking into you harder as he squeezed your neck roughly, mind spinning and vision going black in the corners.

You felt like you were floating.

You hadn’t felt like this in years.

Aemond moaned from behind you as your walls clamped down on him, “Such a perfect little pussy.” He thrusted deeply into you, grinding the air out of your lungs as your mouth dropped open, “Made me for me. Only me.”

You body began to feel heavy as he continued to squeeze your throat, mind going fuzzy as you floated in bliss, his cock drilling into your walls, the sound of your slick release obscene in the room as he clapped his hips against yours.

“You’re mine.” Came a growl that sounded just like Aemond’s voice and not Cregan’s, tip of his cock jutting into your cervix painfully, “Forever.”

You nodded weakly and whined, “Yours. Only yours.”

Tears began to spring into your eyes again, knowing that this was Aemond. Knowing that this was him, but also knowing that you could never have him truly. Knowing he was gone, and never coming back, and although you had tried, although you did love Cregan, you would never truly move on from Aemond.

You would always be his.

The grip around your neck pulled away and blood rushed to your head, strange euphoria taking over as you felt his pull out of you from behind. You stumbled forward slightly before he caught you, turning you around and lifting you onto the desk. And although you were staring at Cregan’s face, with his stormy grey eyes and his brown hair, you could tell just by the way his features contorted, by the way he moved or talked or fucked you, that it was Aemond.

And at this, more tears came.

Aemond sucked his tongue at you, wiping away a tear roughly as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and without waiting another second, slid back inside of your walls, a needy moan falling from your lips as you continued to cry.

Aemond began to rub at your clit again, sending blinding pleasure back up your spine. It was almost too much, too intense, added with everything else, your mind was running in circles.

You whimpered and tried to run away from his fingers, which only served to anger him.

“Stop crying.” He ordered, hand slapping at your clit in warning causing you to yelp.

You hiccuped and sniffled, body jolting with every thrust as he pushed you backwards to lay down on the desk, hovering over you, one hand gripping your shoulder to pull you back down on him, the other pressed onto your swollen bud, “You like when I fuck this little pussy?” He grunted, and you closed your eyes, trying to imagine his face instead of seeing Cregan’s.

“You’ve been thinking of me, haven’t you?” He chastised you, tutting meanly as you nodded your head with a suppressed sob, “He could never fuck you the way I can.”

Pleasure mounting within you again, all you could do was nod and babble yes.

This seemed to both please and anger Aemond, his thrusts speeding up as your spine rubbed painfully into the hard wooden surface, “Cregan could never give you what you want. What you need. He’s useless.” A tear tracked down your cheek as you turned your head away, looking at the far wall as he ploughed into your cunt, “It’s only me. Only I can make you feel this good.”

You moaned beneath him as you felt your second peak rising just as rapidly as the first, his hand not once relenting. But your non-answer came at a cost. Pain bloomed in the side of your cheek as you squeaked, slap having caught your attention as Aemond pinched your jaw in his hand to look up into eyes that weren’t his.

“Say it.” He thrust into you sharply and as deep as he could go, sparks of pain rippling through your cervix in a haze of confusing pleasure.

“Only you,” You whined, “Always you, Aemond.”

“Good girl.”

Aemond’s pace increased, determined to bring you to your end as well as reach his, each thrust jolting the desk against the floor and punching the air from your lungs. You knew that by morning you’d be an aching and bruised mess, but that thought only brought you closer to your peak.

Loving kisses were dotted against your cheeks as Aemond soothed the tracks of tears away with his lips. Your hands reaching up to wrap themselves around his shoulders and your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him in closer.

“Please.” You whimpered, but you didn’t know what for.

Aemond’s arms scooped under your back and pulled you closer to him, changing the angle so that his cock pressed deeper and at a higher angle, one that he knew you loved the most.

And it was all that you needed before you fell of the edge with him, head tossed back in ecstasy as you came for the second time, Aemond following you with a long moan, pressing as deep as he could inside of you.

“I love you.” You whispered into his neck, feeling his cock pulse inside of you, cum filling up your walls.

Your hands soothed the hair at the front of his face in a way you knew he liked, and you felt him shudder from above, kisses pressed into the crux of your shoulder and neck as he whispered into the skin.

I love you.

All too soon, the high of your ecstasy fizzled away, and reality came crashing down around you. Your arms and legs tightened around him, small hiss coming through his teeth as your walls clamped around him.

The stinging prickle of tears filled your eyes again, “Please don’t leave me.” You cried, heart beginning to feel as though it was breaking all over again.

Aemond pulled away from you, though not without a struggle, a different face looking down at you with a familiar sign of love. His hand came to brush the tears away from your cheek slowly, before he leant down to pull you into a kiss, your lips shuddering as you poorly contained a sob, “I will never leave you.” He whispered against your lips, “Not now, not ever. I am always here.” He pulled away, soothing your hair from your face as his brows pulled together in a way that you knew pain was coming.

You tried to sit up, to try and soothe his pain, to instinctually run for the medication you had kept all these years, but he stopped you, cupping your cheek with his large hand as he looked down at you, eyes now full of determination, “I am always watching you. And one day, Cregan won’t be a problem anymore.”

You blinked in confusion as you looked at him, your own brows furrowing, but before you could even respond, his eyes shut in pain and a groan whittled through his lips, heel of his hand pressed into the side of his face where Aemond had lost his eye.

“Aemond?” You whispered quietly, unsure what was happening.

Grey eyes opened slightly, looking at you in confusion as he blinked a couple of times, “Huh?” A low groan came from deep within his chest as he clutched the side of his head, “Wha- Wher-“

“Cregan?”

His eyes opened at you again, and then did a sweep of you and the position you were in. You looked no doubt a mess, hair tousled, neck red from where Aemond’s- Cregan’s hands had squeezed, down to your ripped dress, to finally where you were still connected, your combined releases leaking onto the old wooden desk.

Blinking rapidly he noticed the tear tracks staining your cheeks, and suddenly the pain was pushed away by concern. Cregan’s hand came to touch your neck tentatively, fear rising on his features, "Are you okay?” His voice was rushed, “Are you hurt? Did I- Did I hurt you?”

Guilt and pain struck in your chest.

He thought you were hurt.

He thought he hurt you.

You shook your head rapidly, clutching the sides of his face in your hands, “No, no. You didn’t hurt me. Not at all.”

Cregan seemed to relax at this, though there was still confusion as he looked at you, forehead pulled in pain as he tried to piece everything together.

“Did we…”

You bit at your lip, worrying it between your teeth, “Are you okay? Do you remember anything?”

The man closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think, “I remember smelling food, and then I had this urge to go somewhere.“

Your heart began to race in your chest as you looked at him. You wet your lips with your tongue, eyes searching his face for any sign of Aemond left.

What had just happened?

Was any of that real?

What was happening to you?

What was happening to Cregan?

“Hey.” Cregan caught your attention again, lowering his face to your height, “Are you okay?”

Your mouth was dry.

Were you okay?

No.

Yes.

You didn’t know.

“I’m okay.” You lied.

Cregan frowned at your obvious avoidance, “You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Positive.” You reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your stomach turning.

When you pulled away, Cregan was watching you with caution again.

“What?” You asked quietly, fear beginning to rise inside of you.

Did he remember?

Does he know?

Did he-

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t stop it if you tried.

A broken sob fell through your lips like a half laugh.

Had you?

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