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urdepressedslut · 9 months

Note

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

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mothhball · 2 months

Text

Positive Reinforcement

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x delusional!Reader (fem)

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON (bc Jon is playing a little hard to get), L-BOMB, fingering, oral sex (both m + f receiving), deepthroating, brief breathplay, mutual body worship, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, overstim, clothed male/naked female, threats of drugging, violence mention, reader is a little unhinged

Summary | You’re convinced he’s the one, but you’ve been causing nothing but trouble for Jonathan. Maybe it’s time to switch up the strategy.

Words | 6.2k

Notes | FILTH. Jon may be ooc, whoops. Honestly, this is very self-indulgent and was a struggle to write lol

Arkham certainly has its charms. From the noisy, dark hallways to the scratchy and shapeless patient uniforms - there’s something for everyone here. As far as you’re concerned, you’re here for no reason. At least no serious reason. You’re a lover and a fighter. Literally just a girl. Even though the GCPD certainly didn’t agree when they arrested you for attempted murder, assault, breaking and entering, and a bunch of other rude accusations.

Your ex broke your heart, so you crashed your car into him in an attempt to get back at him, breaking both his legs in the process. He may never walk again – big deal! A crime of passion, your honor! Revenge for the two years that you’ve wasted on a person, only for him to break up with you once he noticed the tracker sown into the bottom hem of his favorite jacket. Bummer.

But life goes on, and as long as your heart can beat, it can love. And the person who made you believe in romance again is sitting right in front of you in his office, narrowing his eyes as he stares you down over the rim of the coffee cup he’s sipping from. If only you could trade places with an inanimate object. Jonathan Crane in his entirety is worth the stay at Arkham. He’s worth the uncomfortable bed, colorless food and horrible daytime television that’s always running in the recreation room. Who needs freedom when you have love?

Crane was the first to listen to you. The first person to let you speak and philosophize about the nature of your devotion and the way you love people. And he didn’t judge you. At least not out loud.

But now, two months after being admitted to the asylum, he’s grown tired and agitated. Unhealthy attachment and mood-natural delusionships involving someone who wants nothing to do with you. That’s the addition to your diagnosis that Crane is currently rattling off right in front of you, but you’re too busy staring at every detail of his face, trying to manifest his hands on your skin and his tongue down your throat.

“Are you trying to go for a new record in weeks spent in solitary confinement?” Crane sets down the cup to have a free hand to rub his temple with.

The question makes you smile. Oh, he’s always so funny. So charming. But being sentenced to solitude wasn’t the goal you had in mind when you smashed another patient’s face into the cafeteria wall, not easing up until her teeth were scattered around like the shiny pearls of a rich lady’s ripped necklace. Even though you were hosed down by a guard and received a fresh set of clothes, the other woman’s dried blood is still crusted under the nail of your left ring finger. A secret little sign of your devotion. You didn’t do it out of anger or jealousy either. You did it because you knew that Crane would be forced to sit you down for an emergency therapy session. It’s his own fault for reducing your sessions to only once a week.

A playfully coy smile pulls at the corners of your lips, and you lean forward a little, wanting to get a better look at him even though you’ve already perfectly memorized every detail of him after just the first two days of being here.

“She shouldn’t have provoked me. I was defending myself. You understand me. Right, Jonathan?”

You slowly inch your hand across the table, almost making contact with his fingertips until he opts to grab your file instead. It’s a pointed gesture, and you quietly mourn the chance for physical contact with him. Crane clears his throat to bring your focus back to the here and now. And of course, the first thing he does is correct you.

“Whistler?” You furrow your eyebrows. “What does she have to do with this? I thought… I thought you were trying to help me.”

“It’s Dr. Crane for you. And I understand that you have very little self-control.” He pauses for a moment, struggling with a sudden surge of anger before he manages to continue. “I’ll be honest. My patience is wearing thin. You’re a danger to the other inmates, and Dr. Whistler of all people already offered to take you off my hands.”

This revelation makes you perk up suddenly, and there’s a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s thinking of giving you away?

“Yes, emphasis on trying. But as you can see, we’re not getting anywhere, are we? And Whistler mentioned how optimistic she is about your case. If you want my opinion, I think she’s itching to test out some new sedatives we’ve added to the catalog.” Crane adjusts his glasses, and the way he speaks almost makes you think he doesn’t care. But you’re sure he does. Of course he does. He has to. Nevertheless, the mere thought of not seeing him on a regular basis makes anxiety crawl up your spine, and you absently pick at your cuticles until you tear a little too deep, and another line of red pools around your fingernail.

“You can’t do this,” you try to argue, searching your brain for any good reason for him to keep you aside from the fact that you two belong together. You briefly lick your lips, daring to appeal to his pride. “If you hand me off, everyone will know that you failed. They’ll all know that you gave up on me because you couldn’t handle me.”

Crane’s eyes narrow into cold slits, and his grip on your file tightens. Uh-oh. That’s a very ugly expression on your darling doctor. He’s quiet for a moment, silently reigning himself back in. The rage that’s simmering beneath his skin dissipates a little when he has a sudden idea.

Maybe a different approach could work better. Realization sets in, and he almost wants to smack himself for not thinking of this sooner. Evidently, you don't care that much for punishment. Solitary confinement and restriction from activities do little to keep you in check. But how about a different motivation? How about reward?

"Alright, here's what we're going to do. We'll keep up the weekly frequency of solo therapy sessions." He thinks out loud, crossing his arms over his chest and occasionally tapping his fingers on his biceps. You want to voice your protest about not getting more sessions with him, but he continues with this lovely, rumbly tone that he uses whenever he's planning something and getting matter-of-fact with you. It's like catnip for your ears, almost making you melt in your little grippy socks.

"And if I don't hear any complaints about you from the other members of staff, you'll get a reward each time. So, be a good girl for a week and you'll get a treat. Easy, right?"

His eyebrows are raised expectantly as he waits for your reply, and you think about his offer, picking at your sleeve as you weigh out the pros and cons.

"Do I get to pick the reward?" you eventually ask, looking back at him with a glint in your eyes that he immediately recognizes. Crane firmly shakes his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"No. Because I know what you'll choose."

"Then I'm not doing it."

Crane sighs, pulling out his work phone.

"I'll give Whistler a call," he states, concentrating on trying not to smirk at the way your expression falls. Like threatening a child by calling Santa.

"Wait! No, I - ... how about a compromise?" You plead, not missing the parallel either. But if you don't want to settle for coal (or in this case, withdrawal from your man), you'll have to suck it up.

Crane looks up from his phone, thumb hovering over the buttons for another moment before he tucks it back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "A compromise? Doll, we’re not arguing over who does the dishes and brings out the trash. You have no say in this aside from agreeing to either a good or a bad time.”

Damn. Did he have to make it domestic?

“Let me burst your bubble for a moment,” He continues, not allowing you to fantasize over his choice of words for longer than necessary. “You have no power here. No agency, no privileges. You’re not ‘doing’ anything, you’re having things ‘done to’ you. You may think you have me in the palm of your hand, because I’m forced to see you every time you get yourself into trouble, but I could just as well keep you drugged and docile for the rest of your indefinite stay here. So,” he leans forward, resting his palms on the table and clearing his throat.

“No more nonsense. This is your very last warning. If you lash out again, I’ll hand you over to Dr. Whistler, advise her to keep you sedated and move onto other much more interesting and agreeable patients, my reputation be damned.”

The silence that follows his words is deafening, and you can hear the blood rushing in your ears as the air suddenly feels thinner. Tears well up in your eyes. Bitter tears of shame and disappointment, and you feel like a petulant child, but it does nothing to stop them from rolling down your face and dripping onto the table below.

Crane stiffens, visibly taken aback by your sudden display of emotion. He thought he’s seen it all from you. The smirks, the winking, the way you bite your lip in an attempt to seduce a man who’s as emotionally available as one of the brick walls making up this very building. Part of him wants to escape the conversation immediately, but it’s his job to at least attempt to help you through your issues, and leaving you in a state of distress is the entire opposite of that.

“Listen,” he starts, almost tentative. “I don’t want to do any of that. Not really. I want to keep working with you. And I believe you’ve made a little progress so far, but you’d be even further along if you’d stop antagonizing everyone for a chance to speak to me.”

“But I need to. You don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

You sniffle, unable to articulate properly. He should know. He should understand from a single second of eye contact. Yet here you are, forced to spell it out for him. Crane’s eyes soften ever so slightly, and he pulls out a pack of pocket tissues, sliding it across the desk so you can dry your tears. His tone is calmer now, almost gentle.

“Why are you doing this? All of this resistance… the altercations with other patients… your life could be so easy. So why?”

“To make you notice me,” you sniffle, gingerly patting your cheeks with one of the paper tissues. Crane’s eyebrows furrow in response.

“You don’t think I would’ve noticed you without all of this mess?” He tilts his head, slightly amused by your melodramatic performance. You scoff at the question, frowning when he actually smirks at you this time.

“No, you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t notice me if I were a model patient. You wouldn’t spare me a single glance if I was docile like the others… I want you to think about me even when your shift is over.”

Crane shrugs, letting out a sigh through his nose as he does. A corner of his lip twitches, and you can’t tell whether it’s in amusement or disgust. The fact that you tried to manipulate him by being a ‘bad’ patient irritates him, but he has to admit that your strategy worked.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t notice you. You have no idea how difficult and repetitive this job gets… how much the faces start to blur together after a while. You’re not very special at all, if I’m being honest.”

The comment and the monotony in his voice sting, and just for a split second, the mask of sweetness slips to reveal the anger and hurt in your eyes. You quickly manage to reel yourself back in, and you clear your throat as you look away from him. At least he’s being honest with you. The basis of a good and healthy relationship.

“I could… make myself special to you.” A pause.

“Do you think you’re capable of doing that? I mean, so far, you’ve just been causing problems and it’s getting stale. Can you really do something better for me?”

“I can be good… I could show you how I feel for you.” It’s a gamble and you know it. But the possible reward outweighs the risk. At least to your infatuated brain. Crane shifts in his seat, deciding to humor you.

“How do you feel for me? Enlighten me a little bit.”

“I’m in love with you. I love you.” Your sweetheart bristles like a cat, and you feel let down by his reaction. During the countless times you’ve fantasized about this moment in the showers, scrubbing yourself with cheap soap, he was elated by your confession. But the real-life Jonathan Crane just looks at you with mild pity. Pity that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“That was… fast. Didn’t even waste a moment to admit it. But I suppose it’s expected from you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he writes something down in your file. You’re quick to defend yourself. This isn’t a joke to you, after all. You’re laying your heart completely bare, ripping apart skin and flesh to expose the bloody, weakly beating thing to his unimpressed eyes.

“I mean it.”

He lets out a low whistle, and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. For an agonizingly long moment (about 30 seconds), he punishes your honesty with silence before he finally sets his pen down and looks at you.

“Then do something to prove it.” He says it so nonchalantly. As if he’s not really expecting anything at all. But he’s severely underestimating how deep your devotion runs for him. Your chair screeches across the floor as you get up, and Crane looks alarmed for a fleeting moment before you lower yourself to your knees and crawl under his desk until you come up between his thighs. Your sweetheart’s eyes soften, and he reaches down to brush his fingers through your hair almost instinctively.

“I’ll show you…” you murmur softly, running your hands over his thighs and lightly digging your nails into the fabric of his slacks. Crane lets out a barely audible sigh, shifting a little in his seat to part his legs for easier access. So considerate. Your man really is such a darling.

Looking up at him from beneath the table, you make quick work of his belt and zipper before you pull up his shirt that he kept tucked into his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his skin, and you lean in to kiss his stomach while your hand moves to palm his cock through his boxers. Crane hisses softly, keeping his eyes locked on your devoted form between his thighs, and a shiver runs down his spine when you pull down his underwear, exposing him to the cool air of his office.

“God… your cock is so beautiful… you don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of sucking you off…” you murmur, eyes lighting up as you wrap your hand around him. Crane licks his lips, unsure how to feel about the compliment. You’ve been his biggest headache for months now, and yet here you are, sweettalking him while you’re sitting under his desk with your fingers around his dick.

“I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” You giggle, gathering some saliva in your mouth before you let it dribble down onto his tip so you can pump his cock more easily. Crane’s brows furrow, and you smile up at him before licking from his base up to his tip, causing him to twitch against your tongue. You know he’s always pent up, always stressed, and you don’t really have to worry about him seeking release elsewhere since he’s always focused on his work. And, in some abstract way, always focused on you.

Loyalty. Another pillar of an unbreakable bond.

You can feel him hardening within your grasp, and you swear you can hear an almost silent breath of relief when you finally take his cock into your mouth. You start off slow, moaning at the feeling of his length on your tongue, and you continue to caress his thighs and stomach in an effort to worship him like he deserves.

“No teeth, doll.” He smirks down at you, smoothing his thumb over your cheekbone as you continue to suck the precum from his tip. The taste of him makes your mind fog up, and you nod eagerly, pulling away from him for just a moment to answer properly.

“Cross my heart, Jon.” Your mouth is back on him within seconds, and you bob your head up and down, taking him deeper down your throat every time. Crane hisses in response, and his grip on your hair tightens.

“It’s still Dr. Crane to you…” His protest is half-hearted at best, and you witness his composure crumbling in real time as you suck him off like you’re trying to devour him whole. You’re on a mission. A mission to drive him to the brink of insanity like his mere presence does you. Crane huffs out another sharp breath, and his hips twitch forward, generously helping you to breach your throat barrier and causing you to splutter around him. Tears well up in your eyes, but you stay down on his cock, pushing down all the way until the neatly trimmed hair on the base of his length tickles your nose.

“Fuck… You’re so pretty when you gag on it.”

You pull off of him, only managing to swallow half the spit that gathered in your mouth while the rest drips down your chin, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Crane’s hand massages the back of your head encouragingly, and you flash him a bright smile before you go back down at him with a little more vigor.

After a while, you go to catch your breath, but before you can pull away completely, both his hands shoot out to grab your head and push you back down on his cock. Your eyes widen, and you let out a slight noise of protest as he begins to fuck into your throat. Drool dribbles down your chin, soiling the shirt of your patient uniform while your nails dig into Crane’s thighs in an attempt to ground yourself. He clenches his jaw, moaning through his teeth while your throat contracts around him.

“Perfect little cocksucker… so eager to show me your love…” He cuts himself off with a little grunt, and his grip on your head tightens as he moves your skull up and down. “All the way down… yes, keep your tongue out…”

You continue to gag around his length, trying to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts as he forces his cock down your pharynx, enjoying the way your muscles clench and contract. His soft moans become more urgent, and pride makes your heart swell. He’s making these noises because of you.

“That’s it… good girl. Eyes on me. I want you to look at my face when I cum down your pretty little throat...”

You whine in response, nodding your head as best as you can, and you start to work in tandem with him as he gets close. The moment you feel him pulse on your tongue, he pushes you down all the way again, and his hand reaches around to your face. You catch a dark glint in his eyes when he suddenly pinches your nose shut, constricting your airflow completely as he chokes you on his cock. You struggle against him, but he doesn’t budge as his eyes fall shut and he grunts out more praise. Panic rises in your chest, and your muscles convulse in a desperate attempt to get air into your neglected lungs. And it’s exactly this panic in your eyes that pushes Crane over the edge and he shoots his load directly down your throat, giving you no other option but to swallow the hot ropes of cum that he lazily continues to fuck into your mouth.

Finally, he lets go of your head, and you immediately flinch back to suck in some much-needed air. The both of you are panting, and you keep your watery eyes locked on his satisfied expression while strings of spit still connect your swollen lips to the flushed head of his cock.

“You okay?”

“Yeah...“ you breathe out in reply, trying to swallow the soreness in your throat. Crane’s hand reaches out to you again, caressing your head like a cherished pet, and he chuckles to himself.

“Catch your breath, doll. That was one hell of a way to prove yourself…” He murmurs, reaching across the table to retrieve the pack of pocket tissues and hand it to you. Your fingers are a little shaky as you wipe the mess from your chin and neck, and you slowly return to your chair. Crane’s brows furrow when he watches you retreat, and you blink at him.

Immediately, your thoughts begin to spiral. What are you doing? Sitting back down, that much is evident. Did he want you to stay and keep on sucking him off? Were you supposed to keep the spit on your face intact? Does he – Crane effectively snaps you out of your mental gymnastics routine by brushing his foot against your calf, and you’re immediately focused on the butterflies that fill up your chest.

“What?”

“What are you doing?” He asks, not bothering to elaborate.

“As far as I’m concerned, you behaved very well just now. So, I’d like to keep my word and reward you.”

He points over to the leather couch in the corner of his office, and you find yourself standing before he can even fully extend his arm. Crane follows after you, leading you with his hands on your hips until your knees softly bump against the furniture. He’s pressed up behind you, breathing in the scent of your skin while his hands begin to trail all over your body. You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder as his touch slips under your shirt, and you can feel the way his fingers are trembling against your flesh. Crane clicks his tongue as he pinches your nipples, slowly rolling the hardening bud between index and thumb in a way that makes you jolt in his grasp.

“Let me see what I’m working with, doll,” he murmurs, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it aside before the cotton bustier that the asylum provided follows suit. Your first instinct is to shy away, but he grabs your shoulders and spins you around to get a good look at you. His gaze is detached. Clinical. And you can feel yourself shrinking away until he finally decides to open his mouth. “Fucking hell… maybe I should’ve indulged you sooner.”

It isn’t much in terms of a compliment, but to you it might as well be a marriage proposal. Your breath catches in your lungs as Crane leans in, sucking your nipple into his mouth while his hands wander lower to push down your pants and sneak into your underwear. He chuckles when his fingers dip into the mess that has built up between your thighs.

“Did sucking my cock make you this wet already?”

“I mean… it is a pretty cock…” you try to defend your already half-unraveled state, and he lets out a laugh. A genuine one of honest amusement, and the noise makes your heart soar up into the sky.

“Quiet. Lie back on the couch for me, sweetheart.” The new pet name almost makes your body collapse in on itself. Your back meets the cold faux leather, and you let out a quiet hiss of discomfort as you sink a little into the cushions. Crane pulls your pants and underwear off completely, letting them join the already existing pile on the floor before he gets on the couch with you. He grabs your thighs, pulling you a little closer so he can rest your legs over his shoulders while he lies flat between them. His breath ghosts over your pussy, and he spreads your folds open with his thumbs to get a good look at your drooling entrance.

“Pretty… so, so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing up the insides of your thighs before he circles his tongue around your eager hole, savoring your taste with a deep, guttural groan.

You reach out your hand to hold his, but he swats it away, causing you to give his hair a harsh tug when he doesn’t do as you want him to. This, however makes him answer with a rough bite to the meat of your thigh, and you’re almost embarrassed by the wanton noise that slips past your lips. Pain tingles down your spine, and you try to sit up, only for him to push you back down. In a second attempt, you manage to catch his hand and immediately link your fingers together so he can’t escape your clammy, possessive grip. To your absolute delight, he’s not even trying to this time around. You knew he’d come around.

His tongue dances around your dripping entrance yet again, licking a stripe up your pussy that makes your grip on his hand tighten and your toes curl. Finally, finally, he sinks a finger into you, already sliding in to where his digit meets his palm, and he moans along with you when he feels how your pussy flutters around him.

“Jonathan…”

For the first time, he doesn’t correct you. Instead, he chooses to lean in and devour you, eagerly lapping at your juicy cunt as he presses the pad of his fingers against that sweet spot inside of you. He’s insatiable, parting your folds with his tongue and groaning at your taste as you grind your clit against the diligent muscle. And his eyes. Oh, God his eyes. He’s almost crushing you beneath his heated gaze, keeping you pinned while he eats you out like a starved man. Now, it’s Jonathan’s turn to get messy, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest as your saccharine slick coats his chin. He adds another finger into your cunt, pulling away from your clit to bite and suck on your thighs while he stretches you open.

“Fuck – “

“Just another finger, doll. Let yourself go for me…” He murmurs between licks and gentle bites as he returns to your pussy, his glasses fogging up from the heat.

Your hands are still intertwined, even as your back arches and you continue to pant and moan out his name. Even as your breath hitches when he latches back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves. Even when he adds a third finger and you finally come on his tongue with a wail that sounds as blissful as it does delirious.

Your brain is clouded by euphoria, and your bite your lip to keep quiet as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you. You can hear the mess he’s made between your thighs. A mix of his saliva and your juices, and Jonathan is not wasting a single drop of it. Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you only faintly register the little laugh he lets out at your state.

“Christ, I want to kiss that expression off your face… Actually, don’t mind if I do.”

Jonathan leans over you, laughing again when he gets a closer look at your expression. And then months of yearning and dreams of romance become reality when his lips meet yours. Fireworks go off in your head, and you immediately pull him closer, almost causing him to topple over on top of you. It’s messy and overly excited on your part, but you couldn’t care less as your teeth clash a few times and you lick against his tongue and taste yourself on it.

Jonathan pulls back for a moment, despite the vise grip you have on his shoulders, but he calms you by pressing his lips against your brow, whispering like he’s trying to calm a wild animal. “Easy there… come on, be good.”

You whine in response, but when his thumb brushes over your clit again, your body jolts and you immediately shut up. Jonathan pushes his own pants down further, freeing his leaking cock again and giving himself a few pumps before he pushes his hips forward to coat his length in your slick. Every time the heard of his cock brushes up against you, you let out a soft little noise, and it’s in that moment that Jonathan decides he’d like to hear a lot more of it in the future. He grits his teeth, slowly sinking into your cunt while keeping his eyes fixed on yours.

Once upon a time, you were nothing special. You have an interesting backstory, sure. And your obsession with him does wonders for his ego. But right here, right now, something cracks the stony façade and he silently dares to venture a little further into the dreamworld you’ve built around the two of you. He sees parts of himself in you. The obsessive, volatile behavior. The inability to love in a way that’s considered normal. The desire to possess something or someone in its entirety.

You shiver when he bottoms out inside of you, his hips meeting yours and slightly squishing you into the faux leather cushions of the couch. You’re still tight and sensitive from your previous climax, and Jonathan can feel your pulse in the velvety walls of your pussy that’s clenched around him. Despite your heightened sensitivity, his thumb returns to your clit, rubbing a tight figure eight into it that makes your head spin. His other hand leaves yours, grabbing your jaw instead to keep you from squirming.

“You’re gonna come for me again,” he states, rubbing you a little faster and applying more pressure along with it. Your muscles tighten, and your heart hammers in your chest as you stare up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“C… can you – “

“Move?” he finishes for you, pressing his forehead against yours. “Only if you cum again, I’m afraid. It’ll be another reward.”

You sob out a moan, face scrunching up when that familiar pressure begins to build inside of you for a second time. Jonathan keeps his hand on your jaw, watching every twitch and flinch of your expression with a look of genuine fascination.

“God, why would anyone ever leave you…” he murmurs, and his word pierce right into your heart and the black depths of your lonely little soul. “Pretty thing… if you didn’t break his legs, I’d recommend for him to get a cell on the opposite end of the hall…”

Your breath hitches as he continues to rub your clit and softly speak to you. “Insanity, I tell you… abandoning such a cute toy... It’s beyond me.” He lets out a soft groan when you tighten around his cock. “That’s it… thaaat’s it.”

You reach the edge again, clenching your eyes shut as you come a second time. Jonathan captures your lips with his own yet again, and while you’re stuck on cloud nine, he pulls his cock out all the way only to slam back inside with an intensity that pushes the air from your lungs. You cry into his mouth as he picks up a consistent, slow rhythm of deep thrusts that make your eyes clench shut. Jonathan releases you from the kiss and gives your jaw a little warning squeeze, wanting your eyes to stay on his while he’s rearranging your anatomy with his cock.

“There we go… stretched open so well.”

You squirm back on your elbows, looking up at him with dilated pupils and burning cheeks, but he grabs your waist and pulls you back right to the base of his cock. A truly sinful noise spills from your lips and for a moment you don't even register that it came from you.

Crane chuckles as he starts to roll his hips again, his right hand hovering dangerously close to your poor, abused clit again. A silent threat almost. Then again, he's quite literally threatening you with a good time.

"S'too much...," you groan out, your body rocking every time he spears you open with his girth.

"Shh... no, no.." he tuts, tightening his grip to prevent you from escaping. "You're gonna stay right here and take it. Stay right. Fucking. Here."

Every word he speaks is empathized by a sharp thrust into your drooling cunt, causing you to howl in pleasure and claw at his back. Every nerve in your body is on fire, drowning you in sweet, sweet agony.

"You wanted this, right? For months you've been begging. And now it's suddenly too much?"

You can only nod, babbling some incoherent nonsense in response. Crane lets out a condescending laugh which quickly twists into a moan when you clench around his cock. No matter how much he tries to pretend, he's just as close as you are.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, clinging to you like you're a lifeboat in a storm as he keeps on thrusting into your slick heat.

"So good for me... God, you're so beautiful when you're sweet and obedient... accepting your reward like a good little patient."

You look up at him, trying to focus on his flushed face even though your eyes are rolling back in your head. Crane leans down to capture your mouth in another heated kiss, nipping at your lips and tasting your tongue while he moans down your throat.

The rhythm of his hips stutters when he pulls away to press his face into the crook of your neck, and suck and bite at your skin in a desperate attempt to leave traces of himself.

“Are you going to cum again?” He groans into your skin, flattening his tongue against your pulse.

“N… no…” you whine

“No? This –“ He’s cut off by a moan of his own, and it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to finish his sentence. “This is your reward, doll… We’re going to have to work on – fffuck – on gratitude…”

“I can’t...! Please… please…” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re even begging for. Certainly not for him to stop.

“You can’t? Well… you’re going to.” His thrusts begin to get faster and more erratic as he tries to fuck into you as deeply as possible “Do it for me, hm? Just for me…”

“No- fuck, please! Jonathan -!!” Tears well up in your eyes from the delicious pain, and you actually scream when he starts to rub your clit again. Colors explode behind your closed eyelids. “Please, please, please- “

“I know you can do it… one more time, doll… Just one more time…”

And you finally do as you’re told, cumming around his cock with an intensity that feels as if someone punched you in the gut. Your brain short-circuits, and you’re not even making noises anymore as he fucks you through your climax like you’re a toy that was handmade for his pleasure.

“Fuuuck – Christ, fuck -“ Jonathan’s voice completely lacks the air of authority and superiority that you are so used to when he whimpers into your neck, his hands tightening around you. It feels like you’re wrapped in cotton, and you can only hear him faintly due to the volume of your pulse that’s hammering in your ears. Finally, his hips still, and he sinks down on top of you as he finishes inside of your fluttering cunt. Rational thought is absent in this moment, and you’re absolutely certain that this is what paradise must feel like. Connected to the one you love so dearly. Overwhelmed by pleasure.

For a long while, the office is silent aside from the rugged breathing that’s coming from both of you, and you bask in his warmth, absolutely content to stay like this for the rest of time. Jonathan clears his dry throat, lifting himself up onto his elbows as he looks down at you, and you’re struck by overwhelming affection once again.

“I love you…”

“Shut up…” But there’s no bite to it. He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, and for a moment, there’s a very real glimpse of fondness in his eyes. Crane stays silent, taking in your features like it’s the first time he sees you properly, and his hand comes up to gingerly trace over your cheekbone and eyebrow before he brushes a strand of hair out of your forehead. Then finally, he lets out a soft breath before he murmurs gently, intimately.

“Looks like I’ll have to come up with more rewards in the future.”

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #smut #.moth writes

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

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Hi, I just want to say your writing is amazing! Like I myself personally am a switch but your Dom fics fill me up with so much goodness it keeps me existing. (Also you've now converted me to a Vox simo as well how dare)

I do have a small request if you don't mind ofc. I'd love to see some sub!Lucifer and with one of the ideas with his shapeshifting boy cunt.

Perhaps he off handedly mentions he can change his sex if he wants and reader takes him up on the offer?

No pressure if you don't do this request! Please take care of yourself first and all the wonderful things

a/n — I love your profile pic! Also this shit is so hot to me but… unless you frequent this blog. I genuinely don’t know who this is for. Lowkey in my flop era.

warnings — boycunt, dom reader, sub Lucifer, oral sex, implied afab reader, use of a strap, aggressive fingering

summary — Lucifer alerts the reader that with his shapeshifting powers, he can also shapeshift his sex. This leads to the reader suggesting a fun night of toying with his pussy.

“I’m sorry, you can what?” You had asked in utter disbelief.

“Change sex,” Lucifer said, far too nonchalantly, “Wait, you didn’t pick up on that? With the whole shapeshifting thing—”

He waves his hand around as if to jog your memory.

“I mean, no, I did not pick up on that. It’s not exactly a common practice, Luci,” You laugh in genuine shock, and utter arousal at the idea.

“Well, what can I say?” Lucifer rubbed his chin as if he was thinking, before turning to you with a proud smile, “I’m a man of many talents.”

“You got that right,” You say, “So, we’re trying this out then tonight, right?”

He pauses, rubbing his neck, “I don’t know, it’s really been a minute since—“

“Come on, Luci, it’ll be fun,” you smile, “And very interesting. Oh, and hot, by the way.”

He pauses, considering the idea.

“You know, what the hell? Only if you really want to test it out, sweetie,” he chirps.

Oh, you really did.

Later that night, after what felt like an agonizingly long day, it doesn’t take long for you to pull him aside from the hotel, into your shared bedroom. You kiss each other hungrily, not tearing into his clothes yet, but instead giving your attention to his lips and jawline.

He wraps his arms around your neck as you hoist him up and sit him down on the bed. Finally, then you start to unbutton his shirt.

He scoots back further on the bed, unclothed on the top half of his body and legs slightly open, inviting you.

You don’t hesitate to crawl towards him, fingers lightly grazing the area on his thighs closest to his crotch, before finally unbuttoning his pants.

You’re slow with your movements though, taking it one moment at a time, kissing him gently as you pull his pants down.

He catches your hand right before you tug down his boxer, “Oh, and darling. Don’t hold back.”

You smile slightly before feeling down the crotch of his underwear, making him suck in breath, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

The bottom of his boxers are damp, you rub your fingers against the patch, “Wet already? I haven’t even done anything.” He hissed slightly at your teasing.

“A-ah, hurry up then,” he adds quickly, “Please.”

You pull the waistband down, and sit back to look at what you’re dealing with.

You can’t help but gasp when you see his wet pussy, open and waiting for you.

“Something wrong?” Lucifer sits up slightly, brows furrowing.

“You’re beautiful,” you say softly, meeting his eyes only for him to turn away.

Before he could give you a response, your fingers tease the outside of his cunt, making him softly whine in anticipation.

You make a show of bringing your fingers up to your lips and licking them slowly. Finally, bringing one down and easing it into Lucifer’s already glistening pussy.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, squirming slightly. You shush him and move your hand gently, swirling it around and relaxing him into it.

It doesn’t take long for you to tease his entrance with a second finger, looking at him first for reassurance.

When you get a shaky nod, you plunge your second finger in, stretching him out and making him whine.

Another finger is added, and Lucifer squirms restlessly, letting out breathy whines and you work your fingers in him, moving faster and faster than before.

“Oh fuck,” He moans, squeezing his eyes shut, “More, dammit, I need more. Please.”

He wasn’t fully gone, but if you kept going at the pace you were going at he would be soon. Unfortunately, you were running out of fingers.

You kept going for another few more moments, movements becoming more and more aggressive because, Lucifer couldn’t help but beg for it to be ‘harder’ or ‘faster.’

“Deeper, oh my god. Deeper, please,” he pleads, voice getting louder, surely carrying over from a few hallways.

Instead of immediately obliging, you pull your hand out of his pussy completely. He whines and practically tears up at the emptiness.

“Patience, Luci. I won’t just leave you high and dry, don’t worry.” Well, maybe high and dry wasn’t the best analogy.

You quickly reach over to the bedside table and open a drawer, pulling out your strap and getting situated.

Lucifer watches and whines with every movement you make, becoming more desperate the more he waits.

Finally you lean down to his legs, and kiss up his thighs. You suck at the soft skin on the upper hidden parts, drawing out whimpers from him.

“Please,” he whispers.

“Please, what?”

“Please, fuck me,” he whimpers and throws his head back into the pillow, arching his back when you lick up his hickeys, and almost make it to his cunt, before pulling away.

“All in good time, sweetheart,” you abruptly throw his legs over your shoulders and plunge into his tight cunt.

He lets out a loud moan and arches his back, hands coming up to his hair. You lap up his pussy hungrily and it doesn’t take long for him to fully wrap his legs around your head, pushing you in deeper.

You suck his swollen, soaking clit, eliciting excited whines from the other side of the bed. Subconsciously, your nails dig into to skin of his already bruised thighs while you eagerly eat him out.

He was babbling anything he could think of, and loudly at that, “More, more, darling. Don’t stop!”

You wouldn’t dare. Or at least not right now, your tongue buried deeply in him, sucking at his puffy clit, soaking him up completely.

Lucifer writhes beneath you, moaning and thrashing around rapidly. Although you don’t notice, his wings sprout out, making terribly flapping motions and causing a large breeze of him in the room.

You’re aware of this, and yet, you don’t pull away, yet. You wanted to keep tasting him, lick him dry, milk him for all he’s worth.

He moaned wildly, practically wailing from the way your tongue continuously slammed against his clit.

“Close. Fuck, honey, i’m so close,” He cries, tearing boiling over his eyes and spilling through his fluttering lashes.

Finally, you pull away from him. He looks up at you in disbelief. He was Absolutely horrified at your neglect towards his pussy, if only for seconds.

You only smile and lick your lips, positioning yourself to finally use the strap Lucifer had long forgotten about.

“Oh my god, finally. Yes please—“

You cut him off by thrusting into him in one slick motion, the cum coating his pulsing pussy making it easy.

He yelps and whines, leaning up to you and wrapping his arms around your neck once again. You position him on your lap momentarily, letting his legs wrap around your torso.

Then you lean him back on the mattress, legs still slinked around your middle. You lean into his neck while you thrust into him at a rough pace.

“Oh my, nngh, deeper. God, deeper,” Lucifer babbled incoherently.

You respond in gently shushes and praise, “That’s right sweetie, taking it so well. Your pretty pussy’s taking me so well, baby.”

He whines, growling loudly, wings once again flapping rapidly and tossing objects every way off of nightstands. His eyes are bright red, but not noticeable when paired with how close his eyelids are to fluttering shut.

Tears stain his pretty cheeks and he cries out for more, and you deliver. You go thrust quickly and aggressively, just as requested.

“My pretty boy. My princess. My sweet baby,” you coo sweet nothings into his ear while you fuck him roughly, breath becoming ragged from the friction and the restless motions.

His claws dig into your back and carve down it, “Oh, ‘m so close, so close. Nngh—“

You slam yourself further into his pussy, almost animalistically, evoking demonic and wild noises from Lucifer. You were sure people from down the street of the hotel could hear him, and you were glad.

Finally, he let out one final, deafeningly loud moan and released all over your strap. He clung onto you for long moments, catching his breath.

At last, he pulled back, looking at you starry eyed and lying back down on the mattress.

“We should…” he sighs dreamily, “…do that more often.

“Oh, honey,” you pull out but then drag your hand from his stomach to his hips, nearing his crotch. “What makes you think we’re done?”

He hisses in a breath, “Oh, wait too— too much. I can’t—“

“What is it you said to me earlier?” You tease his clit softly with your pointer finger, “You remember don’t you?”

He hesitates, blush rising as he looks at you.

“Don’t hold back.”

a/n — I really hope this doesn’t flop guys 😰 lately I haven’t been doing as swell as usual, I dunno. 🤷‍♀️

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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honeyedmiller · 5 months

Text

Nobody Does It Like You Do | Joel Miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit – 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: this is literally just filthy smut. consensual relations, soft dom joel???, m oral receiving, face fucking, praise, reader has a praise kink, daddy issues, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, comparing joel to drugs, pet names (sweetheart, little girl, baby, baby girl), use of ‘daddy’, brief mentions of aftercare, no use of y/n. if there’s anything at all that i missed or mistagged, please let me know so i can tag correctly.

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: good girls always get rewarded.

ty to my love @party-hearses for beta reading. thousands of smooches for you always 🖤

a/n: this is based off of the song ‘daddy issues’ by the neighbourhood. go figure. i told myself i’d never write anything with the ‘daddy’ trope in it, but y’know… just this once. i’ve never written anything this “intense” (it’s not that bad tbh), so please feel free to let me know how i did. hope you enjoy ~

Mascara tears run down your cheeks as you try your best to look up at the man standing above you.

Your eyelashes are weighed down by the salty tears that threaten to spill over once more, knees aching from how long you’ve been on them.

You try to catch your breath as you pant heavily, saliva spilling from your bottom lip as it remains connected to the swollen, weeping cock in front of you.

“Go ahead, little girl. You can take it. Take it like the good girl I know you are.” Joel’s hand comes down to cradle your face, smearing the tip of his cock against your swollen lips. You nod, parting your lips again as you slowly take his spit-slick cock into your mouth, inch by inch until he’s reaching the back of your throat.

Joel’s groan rumbles through his sturdy chest as your nose meets the dark, tuft curls at his base. “Nobody does it like you do, baby. Fuck.”

The praise made you clench your thighs together, aching core throbbing and begging to be touched. You could feel your arousal dripping down the inner apex of your thighs.

God, you’d hoped Joel would lick it all up and tell you how fucking good you tasted.

You thrived off of his praise, his words that you were obsessed with hearing always igniting something deep within your very core.

You looked back up at him, hollowing out your cheeks as you dragged your mouth slowly to his tip once more, eliciting a hiss from him. He moved his hand to cradle the back of your head, more tears spilling from your eyes as he guided your head back and forth.

Joel’s cock twitched at the sight of the tears glistening off of your cheeks, a twisted grin adorning his lips. He always thought you were so fucking pretty like this, just for him.

You continued moving your head at a steady pace with only one goal in mind: pleasing Joel. Pleasing him meant he’d call you a good girl again, and good girls always got rewarded.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous with your mouth wrapped around my cock like this, sweetheart. Y’gonna let me ruin that throat?” His tone was promising, sending chills down your spine as you hummed against him. He smirked down at you, nodding. “Relax for me, baby girl. Tap my leg twice if you need me to stop. Got it?” You nod as best as you can, and Joel doesn’t waste another second before he’s pounding himself into your mouth.

You try your hardest to breathe through your nose, gagging not an option to you at this point.

You wanted to be a good girl for Joel.

He fucks your throat relentlessly, his silky flesh sliding against your tongue with ease. The sounds of his movements reverberated filthily off of the four walls of his bedroom.

Your jaw was aching and the tears seemed endless at this point, but it wasn’t long before his thrusts were getting sloppy as his hips stuttered.

“Good fuckin’ girl, takin’ daddy’s cock down your throat like this. So perfect, baby.”

You whine around him, eyebrows threading together as your hands move to the back of his thighs. You grip onto him, coaxing him to come undone for you.

“Shit–fuckin’ hell–fuck,” Joel groans the words, voice strained as he suddenly stills, his warm spend spilling onto your tongue. You swallow everything he gives you, and he slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth with a huff.

You try to catch your breath, chest heaving as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Joel gently pulls you up by the elbow, encircling your waist within his arms as he pulls your naked body flush against his own.

His skin is hot and a few stray curls stuck to his sweat-coated forehead. He looked at you with pure pride in his eyes.

You did good.

He cradles the back of your head once more before pulling you into a gentle, needy kiss. He pulls apart from you, wiping his thumbs over the tears that were near-dried on the apples of your cheeks.

“Did so good for me, baby. You gonna let daddy take care of you now?” His voice is drastically different this time, much more timid. You nod and bite your lip in anticipation. “Words, sweet girl.”

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat absolutely fucking wrecked from the very man wishing to take care of you.

“Yes what, little girl?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl. On your back.” Joel nods his head toward the bed, and you instantly comply.

Joel stands at the end of the bed, admiring you from above. You look like something the Greek gods themselves would’ve carved out into marble stone. He sees the want in your eyes. So desperate. Something carnal that tries to claw its way to the surface.

What his baby wants, she gets.

His eyes roamed down to the slick that’d made its way down your thighs. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he leaned forward, slotting a knee between your legs. He swiped his middle finger up your glistening folds, causing you to sharply inhale as your hips bucked up involuntarily.

“Poor baby’s all wet, hm? This just from sucking daddy’s cock?”

You nod frantically, practically begging him silently for him to touch you, lick you, fuck you—anything at this fucking point. He brings his middle finger back down to collect more of your arousal, moving his finger to gently circle your clit.

Joel brought his middle finger up to his mouth to suck on it, indulging in the taste of you. He could’ve easily gone down on you and ate you like a starved man, but he was selfish with his needs. He needed to be inside of you, wrapped in your warmth, taking care of you the way he knew you liked it. You’d been such a good girl for him, after all.

He dragged you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up to your chest. He took his cock and swiped it against your slick folds, causing you to gasp. His gaze met your face for a second before flicking back down to see the moment he pushed himself into you.

You whine at the stretch, becoming completely engulfed in the man that is Joel Miller. The heaviness of him inside you, his scent on his comforter surrounding you, his taste, his voice, the feeling of his thick forearms as you grabbed onto them for support—the man was all-consuming, and you fucking loved it.

He was like a fucking drug. Addicting, leaving you wanting more, and hard to let go of. You felt so euphoric with every push and pull, every heavy drag, every sharp thrust. There was just something about this man that mystified you. He drew you in like a magnet. Opposites that attracted.

Joel was very aware of your need for validation, and truthfully, he got off on seeing you so happy to receive his praise. Just like he was your drug, you were his. He thrived off of your reactions to him, and he couldn’t get enough. He couldn’t get enough of you.

His eyes shifted to your scrunched up face as you gladly took the slight pain that was easily overpowered by the pleasure.

“Perfect pussy feels so fuckin’ good around me, baby girl. Fuck,” Joel picked up his pace, rhythmically pounding into you. The slap of skin on skin and the wet squelch of your overwhelming arousal filled the room, the sounds nearly pornographic. “Open your mouth, baby.” He instructs, and once again, you oblige.

He spits directly into your mouth, and you swallow exactly what he gives you. Your pussy throbbed at the action, feeling every ridge and vein he had.

“Daddy’s so—so fuckin’ big,” You hiccup, pussy clenching tightly as you felt your release slowly building within your core.

“Yeah? You like when I take care of you like this baby?”

You nod once more without hesitation.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl. Fuckin’ love it. For me and only me, baby. My good fuckin’ girl.” His calloused hands move down to your breasts as he easily kneads the soft flesh, flicking his thumb over your pebbled nipples. He leaned down to take one in his mouth, giving it a slight nip.

You hissed in pain, but it went straight to your core. Another rush of arousal pooled within you, gritting your teeth down to prevent yourself from screaming. The coil that built up in your core was dangerously close to snapping, and Joel felt it.

“That’s it, my sweet girl. Cum for me. Wanna feel you.” Joel’s voice was strained once more, teetering on the edge himself. You cried out as your orgasm washed over your body, tingling from the strong waves of pure sensation that struck you.

His name fell from your lips repeatedly like a chant, and it was only then when you clenched around him once more that he spiraled and lost all control. He stilled, thrusting into you sporadically as he released everything he had into you.

You sucked in a sharp breath as Joel pulled out of you, plopping next to you on the bed. He pulled you into him and kissed the crown of your head, smiling down at you.

“Did so good for me, baby.” Joel murmured, rubbing your arm up and down.

“Thank you.” You say quietly, nuzzling right into his warm body.

“Told you daddy would always take care of you, didn’t I sweetheart?” He coos, brushing your mascara-tear stained cheek with his thumb.

“Mhm.”

Joel chuckles at your completely fucked-out state, sighing as he sits up. He goes to get a washcloth to clean you up, and looks down at you with a sickening smirk after he throws the washcloth in his hamper.

“Which flavor of tea for today, sweetheart? I know that throat is going to be sore by tomorrow.”

tags: @ilovepedro ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @nostalxgic ; @joelmillers-whore ; @janaispunk ; @joelscurls ; @kajashe ; @hyzer34 ; @littlegrungegirlaf ; @amanitacowboy

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagines #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot

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midnightcrw · 2 months

Note

Would you write one where simon's wife is about to give birth and they're gonna give her an epidural but she's so scared and starts clinging to him?😢

Epidural

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!reader

Summary: You're about to get an epidural, and fear seems to overtake you.

a/n: I'm so sorry this took so long. I just had no idea how to write this since I have never had an epidural or given birth myself. In the end, I decided to keep the process as non-detailed as possible because I didn't want to get anything wrong. But please correct me if I got something wrong. This is not my best work either, I'm really sorry.

In a dimly lit hospital room, the air was thick with tension as Simon stood by your side, his fingers intertwined with yours as you squeezed his hand every now and then out of fear.

From the moment the word 'epidural' left the mouth of one of the nurses, you were terrified. You were about to give birth to your first child, and just the thought of the needle made you feel nauseous.

"Simon, I don't know if I can do this," you whispered, almost breaking down in the middle of your sentence. Your heart was beating so fast that you were afraid it would stop at any moment, and the pain you were feeling didn't make it any easier.

Simon squeezed your hand and began to run his thumb over the back of your hand. "It's going to be okay, I promise," he kissed the top of your head as he continued, "I won't leave your side no matter what, break my hand if you have to. I wouldn't mind."

His serious tone made you chuckle at his words for a second, but even that was short-lived as you winced in pain.

"Si-" but before you could continue, one of the nurses approached you with a sympathetic smile on her face. "Mrs. Riley, it's time for the epidural," she said gently, and even though she sounded kind, you couldn't help the fear that grew as your grip on your husband's hand tightened.

Simon was sure you were going to break his bones today, but he would let you, as long as he could finally see you smile when this was over.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "You're going to be just fine, sweetheart. The doctors know what they're doing, I promise."

Hearing his words made you close your eyes for a second as you nodded, wanting it to be over as soon as possible before you scared yourself any more.

Simon slowly led you to the edge of the bed. The anesthesiologist spoke reassuringly, explaining each step of the epidural administration. And despite the explanations, you couldn't really concentrate, not even sure if it was because of the contractions you were feeling or because of your fear.

Your husband pulled up a chair next to the bed, his calming presence offering a sense of security. Your eyes locked with Simon's, silently pleading for reassurance as he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his voice calm and soft. "I'm right here, love. You're stronger than you think, and our little one will be here soon."

As the needle approached, your grip on Simon's hand tightened again, causing even Simon to whimper in pain. He was sure that at least one of his bones was broken now.

The nurse and anesthesiologist worked efficiently, their experienced hands moving with precision, while Simon continued to murmur words of encouragement, his focus solely on comforting you.

And as the epidural took effect, a wave of relief washed over your face. The tension in your body began to ease, and you nestled into Simon's embrace. The room seemed a lot less tense now as Simon gave you a kiss on the cheek.

In the hours that followed, your husband stood steadfastly by your side, never once leaving your side.

"I'm so sorry," you mumbled apologetically as you held your newborn in your arms.

"Don't apologize, dear. It doesn't even hurt," Simon said while he examined the poor state of his broken hand.

"Liar," you whispered.

He looked at you with narrowed eyes, his expression was enough to tell you that he denied what you had just said.

"I heard you whimper!"

"No, you didn't!"

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charlessainzz · 11 days

Text

The Other Woman

I couldn't help myself hahah. Seeing all the drama online right now. Let me know if you like it :) or don't, either way this was fun to write.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. There he was, sitting at the Rolex Monte Carlo Masters, with her. The girl he told you was nothing to worry about. The girl who you thought was just obsessed with him. The girl was supposed to be the other woman. But now… it felt like maybe you had been this entire time.

As you watch the match on your TV you feel your phone vibrating. All your friends having the same realization as you. Texting ‘How could he do this to you?’ The playful guy you met out shopping one day in Monaco. He had completely swept you off your feet. Showering you in gifts, compliments, and mind-blowing love.

Flashbacks of the past few months begin to play in your mind. How you’d suggest a casual night out for dinner and he’d convince you he wanted to keep you protected from the public. Moments when you’d see him out in a Monaco nightclub and he’d ignore you. Only to be calling you hours later begging for you to come over. Times where you’d politely ask to join him at a race, and the conversation ending in him lecturing you that fans would ruin your relationship if you did. Each time you would feel suspicious of him, but he’d use his sweet charm and kiss away any negative thoughts.

Yet, here he was. In public, at a high profile event, with millions of cameras all to capture him with another woman. You were livid. That’s when you decide to text him that you were watching him and whatever was happening between you two was finished.

When you send the text you see the film camera zoom in on him again and he’s seen frantically texting on his phone. Throughout the event each time the camera would pan to Lando, it would capture him texting, attempting to make a call, and utterly ignoring the woman next to him. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched.

The next few hours feel like an eternity. You had not only turned off your TV but also your phone. You knew there were probably dozens of calls and texts from him. You just couldn’t bear to see it. You couldn’t handle hearing whatever lame excuse he could conjure up. Letting yourself wallow in pity as you wait for morning to come.

That’s when you hear three light knocks on your door. It’s Lando coming to grovel at your feet. To beg you not to disappear from his life.

You creep up to the door and slowly open it. Revealing Lando, in the same attire he wore to the tennis match, but accompanied with dark bags under his eyes. Clearly stressed out.

“What do you want, Lando?”, you boom. You try to take breaths to steady the shakiness you begin to feel in your body.

“A chance y/n. Just a chance to explain please”, he begs. His hands start to reach out to touch you but you pull back.

“I don’t want to hear it! You’re a fucking liar!”, you start to yell. “You convinced me that I was the only one and yet I see you out with her. And even worse out in public!” He no longer is able to hold your gaze and looks down at his feet. All the anger is bubbling to the surface.

“Shit I know I messed up y/n. That’s why I’m here! To explain what happened. If I didn’t care would I be here now?”, he appealed. He grabs your hands, imprisoning you once again. You can’t help but to feel he was right. Would he be here if he didn’t actually care about you?

“Then get on with it. Explain!” you say sternly. He takes a deep breath and gives your hands a squeeze.

“It’s my team, okay. They said I needed to be seen out with someone. And that someone just happened to be her. It was out of convenience. Nothing more I swear”, he claimed. He’s looking at you to see if any of that was enough to ease your concerns.

You let out a little laugh, more out of disbelief. “That is such bullshit Lando Norris. Really, PR? That’s your excuse?”, you taunted. Did he think you were stupid? PR was an easy thing to place the blame on.

“Y/n you have to believe me. That’s the truth”, he says once again with more conviction. “I would never purposefully hurt you. I love you”, he declares. That word ‘love’ had never been spoken between you two yet. It quite literally knocked the breath out of your lungs.

“You love me?”, you whisper. Tears start to form and he smiles.

“Of course I do. You love me don’t you?”, Lando asks but he already knows the answer. He’s manipulated the situation perfectly. His thumbs rubbing circles in your hands trying to coax an answer out of you.

“How could I not love you? You’re the only person for me”, you confess. You feel yourself being sucked back into him. “Is it over between you and her then?”, you asked cautiously.

“Let’s not worry about that right now y/n”, he says and silences you with a kiss. You were the other woman. But relishing in his kiss, in his love, you couldn’t find the courage to leave. You were sentencing yourself to a life lived in the shadows.

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #writtenbycharlessainzz #f1 fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris #lando norris angst #f1 requests open #f1 x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 4 months

Note

heya hiya bbg!! since you are writing for bucky i might as well do 10 y/o me some justice <3

i weirdly remember this dream i had (most of my requests are my delusional ahh dreams oml😞) where reader basically calms him after a nightmare like asking him what happened, if he wants to talk abt it, humming/singing to him, trying to cheer him up, etc etc

v cute v fluffy <3

hopefully u can get to this soon! have a great week/end!

-🪐

angel my bbg hi!! love it love it love it!! thank you for requesting, hope you like it 💌

UNRESTED.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 647

warnings. reverse comfort bc I can’t stop myself from writing it, nightmares but no description. it’s just fluff and comfort

It was no secret that Bucky didn't sleep well, often tormented by memories, leaving him with minimal hours of uninterrupted rest. Most nights were the same, him restlessly tossing in bed, murmuring and jolting as though he's stuck in the past - reliving it all over again.

Tonight was no different. You were nudged awake by your boyfriend sleeping to the right of you, his twitching movements hustling the mattress and snatching the covers. You check the time on your phone and sit up slowly, adjusting beside Bucky.

You extend a hand, hesitantly reaching for him. You place your palm over his shoulder, the sheen of his cold sweat permeating your skin. "James," you whisper, trying not to startle him. "James," you try again.

He abruptly sits, lids flinging open, a deep, heavy inhale filling his lungs. "God," he murmurs, brushing a hand down his face. His breathing is ragged and strained, shoulders tensing under your touch.

You brush your hand down his back, stroking over him smoothly. "You're awake. It's okay," you coo, drawing circles over his scarred skin - trying to refocus his mind.

He sighs, dropping his head in his hands, his breathing beginning to even out. "Was the same one again," he mumbles, his voice soft and saddened against his palms.

Your touch remains warm, trailing over him lovingly. "It sounded like it," you whisper, your tone gentle. "I'm sorry, love."

You slip your free hand into his metal one, carefully pulling it away from his face - your thumb brushing over the vibranium. You bring him to your lips and press a kiss on the back of it. You continue to hold him like that, one hand grazing up and down the curve of his back, your other holding the metal on your lap - trying to bring him back as such.

Bucky turns to look at you, his face knowing. The sight of your sweet features gently lit up in the moonlight, slowly putting his mind at ease.

You meet his downcast gaze, your eyes pooling with empathy. You give him a weak smile before resting the side of your head on his left shoulder, cheek skimming the scars.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask.

He copies your movement, resting his head over yours - the side of his face propped on your crown. "Not yet," he mutters in response, exhaling a steady breath.

"That's okay," you whisper back, turning to place a kiss on his upper metal arm. "We don't have to right now."

There's a moment of comfortable silence - the only sounds of breathing and the heavy pitter-patter of rain against the window. You continue to hold Bucky, waiting for him to pull away. But he never does.

"Sorry for waking you again,"

"James," you comfort, sweetly cooing at him. "You never have to be sorry for that... I was already awake anyway," you lie - trying to make him feel better.

You keep a grip on him as you lean back against the mattress, pulling him with you, which he adjusts immediately, cuddling into your side - his arm draping over your middle. You slip your arm under his head and wrap around it, almost like you were cocooning him. Protecting him. Just you cradling his head safely in your arms.

"Thank you," Bucky mutters, his words muffling against your skin as he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

Your fingers graze up into the short hairs at the back of his head - nails soothingly scratching his scalp. "Of course," you murmur back, whispering into his forehead.

Both of you stay like that, listening to the night storm, cuddled and huddled under the covers - his hand slowly making its way up to your heart. He rests his palm over the organ, using the faint thumping to ease him back to sleep.

#request #🪐#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky comfort #bucky barnes comfort #reverse comfort #bucky x female reader

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pockettwinzz · 5 days

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7 Minutes In Heaven - S.JK

౨ৎsynopsis౨ৎ : Seven minutes in heaven with your annoying enemy; how would it go...

౨ৎwarnings౨ৎ : MDNI, Smut, blowjob, oral[m!receiving], unprotected sex[naurr],

౨ৎauthor's Note౨ৎ : So this was supposed to be released after my Heeseung fic but dumbass mfing tumblr didn't save my draft so i'm gonna have to re-write some scenes :( will be uploading it asap!!!! dividers by @dollywons

౨ৎwc౨ৎ : 1.6k

Jake and I had never really talked much since freshman year. Anytime we'd try to talk we'd end up arguing about something. Everyone in college knows about it by now.

Tonight, we're at a camping trip with some of our mutual friends. As the night progresses, they drag us into playing truth or dare. When it's my turn, the idiot who's supposed to be my friend dares me to do something insane. "Y/N, you have to spend seven minutes in heaven with Jake."

I groan, not wanting to do this at all. But I have to, or I'll look like a chicken. So, with a sigh, I agree to it. I close my eyes and feel Jake's warm breath on my neck as we're led into the room. I can't help but feel a little bit nervous.

I said to Jake, my voice shaking slightly. "So umm what are we supposed to do?I mean, we could just… talk, I guess?"

Jake scoffs. "I don't want to talk to you. But if you insist…" He pulls me closer, his body pressed against mine. His hands slide up my shirt, sending shivers down my spine. "We could do other things," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.

My heart skips a beat. I'm not sure if I should be angry or aroused by this. Jake's touch feels so good, so foreign. He reaches around, unhooking my bra with ease, before tossing it aside. His fingers trace circles around my nipple, making me gasp.

I want to hate this, but my body betrays me. It wants more.

I arch my back, pressing myself against his touch. "Jake…," I breathe out, my voice husky. He smirks, leaning in to capture my lips in a heated kiss. His tongue dances with mine, sending a jolt of desire through my entire body. His hand finds its way down my shorts, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, teasing.

I moan into his kiss, feeling myself grow wetter by the second. I want him to touch me there, to make me feel good. I break away from the kiss, gasping for air, and reach down to unfasten his pants. My fingers brush against his hardness, and I'm taken aback by how big he is. I've never been with anyone this big before.

Jake helps me pull his pants down, revealing his boxer briefs. I reach for the waistband, but he stops me, pushing my hand aside. "Let me take care of that," he says, his voice husky. With practiced movements, he pulls down his underwear, freeing his erection.

He steps back, giving me a moment to take in his fully exposed body. I'm mesmerized by the sight of him, hard and ready for me. He's so confident, so sure of himself. It's almost intimidating. But at the same time, it's incredibly arousing.

I reach out, tentatively touching the tip of his cock. He lets out a shuddering breath, and I feel the heat emanating from his body. His eyes are locked on mine as I stroke him, slowly at first, but then faster, matching the rhythm of my own heartbeat.

He grabs my hand, guiding it, showing me how he likes it. I can feel the veins pulsing beneath his skin, the taut muscles quivering with each touch. His hips begin to move in time with my strokes.

"That's it, baby," he groans. "You're doing so good."

I lean forward, taking him into my mouth. His tip presses against the back of my throat, and I gag a little. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around my hair, guiding me. "Just take it slow, sweetheart. Let me feel you around me."

I obey, sucking gently at first and then harder as I get the hang of it. His hips buck against my face, and I can taste the precum on my tongue. It's salty and sweet, and I can't help but want more. I stroke him with my tongue, feeling the veins pulsing beneath his skin. He moans, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine.

His hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place as he thrusts deeper. "Fuck, that's it," he groans. "You're so good at that." His cock twitches in my mouth, and a warm, thick fluid fills my mouth. I swallow quickly, feeling it trickle down my throat.

He pulls me up, grabbing my ass in his hands, and pushes me back against the wall. His hips begin to move, his cock thrusting against my lips. I open wider, taking him deeper, feeling the head of his cock brush against my entrance. He growls, his hips stuttering, and then he's inside me.

I let out a moan as he fills me, feeling him stretch me, claim me. He begins to move, his hips slamming into mine in a furious rhythm. I can feel the strength in him, the power that he has over me. He grips my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin as he takes control of our encounter.

My head falls back against the wall, and I let out a gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside me. His thrusts grow deeper, harder, and I can feel myself beginning to lose control. I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a bruising kiss.

He groans into the kiss, his hips stuttering against mine as he tries to maintain his rhythm. I can feel the strength in his arms, the way they hold me up, the way they keep me close. He's so big, so powerful, and yet he's gentle with me, almost tender.

His thrusts become more erratic, more urgent. I can feel the tension building in him, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps. I want to make him feel good, want him to let go, so I arch my back, pressing myself deeper against his hips. His cock hits my sweet spot, and he cries out, his body tense as he comes inside me.

He holds me close, his strength steadying me as I feel the aftershocks of his release. His hips slow, but he doesn't pull out. He leans in, kissing my neck, my jaw, my lips. His skin is warm against mine, and I can feel the softness of his hair against my cheek.

"You feel so good," he murmurs, his voice raspy with desire. "So tight, so hot." His hips begin to move again, the friction between us growing more intense with each thrust. He groans, the vibrations traveling up my spine and making my toes curl.

His fingers dance over my skin, tracing patterns that send shivers through my body. He finds my sensitive bundle of nerves, and his touch is electric. "God, I love how you respond to me," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.

I lean into his touch, my hips meeting his rhythm. The friction between us grows more intense, more demanding. I can feel myself growing wetter, hotter. His cock strokes my inner walls, finding that perfect spot that drives me wild.

He groans, his breath hot against my neck. "You're so fucking amazing," he whispers, his fingers digging into my hips. "I could feel you tighten around me, feel you get wetter." His hips thrust harder, faster, his cock hitting deep inside me with each thrust.

I was crying out his name as a shudder runs through me. His touch is so gentle, so tender, it's almost too much to bear. He finds my clit with his thumb, circling it expertly, driving me wild. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as I feel the pressure building, the need growing more urgent.

"J-jake….. I'm close.." I manage to choke out, my body trembling under his touch. His thrusts grow faster, harder, each one pushing me closer to the edge. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue thrusting deep inside. I can taste myself on him, feel the heat of our bodies as we move together.

He pulls back, watching me intently as his fingers continue to work their magic on my sensitive skin. His touch is so gentle, so knowing, and it sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. "Come for me, baby," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

That was my last straw. I came with a scream, my body arching off the bed as my orgasm took me, waves of pleasure rolling through me. Jake's name was torn from my lips as I convulsed around him, my muscles gripping his cock in time with my spasms.

He followed me over the edge, his body tensing as he cried out, his hips bucking wildly. His hot cum spilled inside me, filling me up as he came, his grip on my hips unyielding. For a moment, we were both suspended in time, our bodies still joined as we caught our breath.

The room was hazy with the scent of our sweat and the lingering traces of our pleasure. Jake rolled off me, collapsing onto his back beside me, his chest heaving. I traced a finger along the line of his jaw, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. "You're amazing," I whispered, kissing his neck.

He laughed, the sound husky and satisfied. "You're not so bad yourself." He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at me. "Now think of an excuse baby. What are you gonna tell 'em we were doing cause it's been more than 7 minutes."

"We were just… talking. Getting to know each other a little better."

Jake chuckled, "Do you wanna talk some more?"

౨ৎperm taglist౨ৎ : @alvojake @cha-eui @heeslut4life @dollywons @wondipity @wonlvkay

My taglist is open. I will not be adding minors or blogs that do not have their ages mentioned <3. If you wanna be added feel free to send me an ask :3

#pockettwinzz writes #pockettwinzz #haze <3 #enha x reader #jake smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #18+ mdni #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake x y/n #sim jaeyun smut

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idkfitememate · 4 months

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Hihihihihi, I couldn't help myself but write something for the otter!creator its on my mind since the brainrot(yes I am the anon who sent that otter idea, and yes I shall dub myself as the otter!anon in your blog)

Set place in Childe in Court

The traveler and Paimon rush out to get out of their seats, seeing childe activing his foul legecy, "Ah! his activing his foul legecy!" Paimon cups her cheeks in shock, while traveler looks around to try and stop Childe from activing his foul legecy.

BOOM.

The traveler blinks, at the sudden slam from the stage, The traveler and Paimon quietly gasp as the dust cleared out, there Neuvillette standing over Childe who appeared knock out at the ground, "I am sorry" Neuvillette voice is loud and echo around the entire court "If you been wronged, we will find the truth" Neuvillette gracefully turn around "But the rules of the court, but be upheld" the clockwork meka rush past Neuvillette to take Childe into the fortress.

Then tiny claps slowly echo around the court, the audience, Paimon, Travelr, and Neuvillette look to the sound, up there next to Furina is an Otter, clapping frequently with their tiny paw pads, the Otter seems be treated well, seeing that the Otter is next to the Hydro Archon and seems to be sitting at the most softest and comfortable pillows known to whole teyert, the clapping continues on, if you look closely you can see tiny stars around the Otter face, seemly amaze by the outcome of this trial.

The Otter finally notice the attention, slowly ease their clapping and let out a tiny embarass "Kyuu..." which silently made Furina 'aww' before coughing loudly and anouncing that the trial is over, and the whisper slowly begin the court room, Neuvillette slighty smirk, perhaps the case wasn't so bad after all, their little friend seemed to enjoy it.

Following Neuvillette and Furina out after the trial, Paimon and Aether quickly gained on the duo.

“Wait!! WAIT!!!” Called Paimon, an out of breath Aether behind her. The pair stopped their little walk, turning to face them.

“Who’s your little friend?” Aether asked.

“Ah! Mon trésor! Yes yes, me and Monsieur Neuvillette’s darling ˈbābē! Oh, they are but a dear friend to us, isn’t that right, Ma raison d’être? Oh yes it is! Aren’t you so beautiful.~” Furina slowly stopped talking to them, instead cooing at the otter she held in her arms, akin to a baby. She rocked them and booped their nose, giggling throughout.

“Yes, I found ma moitié when I was taking a stroll, traveler. They clung to my leg and then held an amazing opulent shell to me. After taking it they seemed to request to be picked up, and how could I ever say no to ma raison de vivre.” Neuvillette gently took off the hat on the otter, smoothing the fur beneath it before patting the hat back on.

“They have stuck to my side ever since.” He mused.

“AND when they met moi, mon preux chevalier just couldn’t resist!~” Furina exclaimed.

“You guys sure do have a bunch of nicknames for them… jeez…” Paimon muttered.

Aether stared at the blue duo before gently reaching a hand out to pet the otter, only for his hand to get slapped away. When he looked back up, he was met with the glares of both Neuvillette and Furina.

“Do. Not. Touch. Mon. Trésor.” “GET YOUR FILTHY HAND AWAY FROM MON ANGE!” Both Aether and Paimon flinched back in shock.

“You dare try to place you hands of their gleaming coat!? I’ll have you know that it costs more than you’ll EVER SEE IN YOUR LIFE to make it this shiny!!!!” “Keep your tainted flesh to yourself.”

The traveling duo stared on in shock. That was… rather hostile. And now they were just glaring at each other.

Of course, that was until the topic of the discussion began to make noise.

All four of them looked down at the now squirming otter in Furina’s arms. They struggled in her grasp before dropping to the floor. They ran over to Aether before standing on their hind legs, reaching up at Aether to be picked up.

He quickly looked up at the others, noting their shock. Then, he hesitantly picked them up, cradling them in his arms. They began to chirp and chitter in happiness. Aether once again looked up at the other two, Paimon hiding behind him.

Furina and Neuvillette both stared with blank faces, before the hydro archon whipped her hat off her head, shoved it in her face and turned around. She bounced on her heels as she squealed.

“AWEEE!-,” she seemed to immediately regain composure however, “*Ahem* I- I mean, look at our ˈbābē!” She said as she turned back around, still hiding the lower half off her face behind her hat.

Neuvillette turned his head as well, his eyes closed and his hand covering his flushed cheeks and trembling lips.

“S- so adorable..!”

The otter simply snuggled into the man’s arms, continuing to chitter away happily.

Otter!Creator breathing: 🙂

Furina, Neuvillette, and basically the entirety of Fontaine: 🥹🥹🥹

Otter!Creator is so soft. Literally the difference between them and Boar!Creator is the fact that one was pampered and the other basically spent their first year entirely in the wild lol ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚

They’re probably gonna have their own tag now, and welcome Otter!Creator Anon! When I finally get around to fixing up my blog so it’s neat and tidy, you’re gonna go right on the anon list, first place! (I really feel like people like Otter!Creator over Boar!Creator but it’s fine, it’s cool ૮꒰ ˶꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ˶꒱ა♡)

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Otter!Creator #Otter anon <3 #anon <3 #asks <3

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its-vannah · 1 year

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Sweet Nothing | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: My goal is to finish this Masterlist by December, and I've got to say that this is one of the most wholesome fics on this whole list. I dearly loved writing it, and I hope y'all love reading it ❤️

Warnings: Childbirth, intense pain, labor, birth, lots of fluff

Midnights Masterlist

Another restless night had gone by, with bouts of sickness and fever. Laying in bed, feet propped up, you tried to ease the pain in your stomach.

You were only eight months pregnant, but you felt as though the baby could arrive any day now. Praying to the Gods to give you another month, to ensure the safety of both you and your unborn child, you hoped they answered.

I found myself a-runnin' home to your sweet nothings

Jacaerys had insisted on being by your side throughout it all. He had instructed your handmaiden to care for your oldest son, Arewyn, while he tended to you.

Slowly opening the door to your shared chambers, he held a cold, damp rag in his hands. Standing at the side of your bed, he placed the rag over your forehead in an effort to break your fever.

That I'm just too soft for all of it

He sat beside you, gently running a hand over the curve of your stomach, a soft smile on his face, "I can hardly wait, my love."

You let out a content sigh, the baby kicking against his hand, "I don't think the babe can either."

Placing your hand on top of his, you guided him to the upper part of your stomach, "Just wait..."

A hard kick came, and Jacaerys released a breathy laugh, "A strong one we have, don't we?"

"Oh, I'm sure of it," You winced at the pain in your lower stomach, exhaling slowly, "Too strong."

"Any day now, my love, I'm sure of it," He said, pressing a kiss to your stomach, and then your forehead, "Is there anything I can do?"

You shook your head, "I don't believe so, but..."

I spy with my little tired eye

Pausing, you saw the door opening from the corner of your eye. It was slow, as if each push was a struggle.

Tiny as a firefly

Seconds later, a small boy peeked his head through the door, pushing his body through, his eyes wide as he saw you.

A large smile plastered on his face, he ran towards you, his feet slapping against the stone floor.

Desperately trying to get up on the bed, he motioned for his father to lift him up.

And smooth-talking hucksters

"Is the baby here? Can I see it? What's it's name? Is it's name Arewyn, too? Do we have the same name? What does it look like? Like me?"

The constant questioning typically drove those in the palace mad, but Jacaerys found it endearing. He remembered when Joffrey was that young, only three and full of questions.

Jacaerys grinned down at his son, lifting him into his arms and setting him on his knee, allowing him to face you.

You say, "What a mind"

"He has a mind of his own, doesn't he?" Jacaerys said, trying to tame his son's head of curls which he had seemingly inherited from his uncle.

Arewyn searched the room, "Where's the baby?"

You pointed to your stomach, "Not here quite yet, my love."

"When is it going to be here?"

"Soon, my sweet, have patience," Knowing fully well it was impossible for a four year old to practice the art of patience.

This happens all the time

Shaking your head, Jacaerys smiled, nuzzling his son's cheek, "Always asking questions, aren't you?"

"Tell me, Arewyn, where is Pia?" You asked, caressing his small cheek, "She was supposed to watch you."

Arewyn furrowed his brows, crossed his arms, and huffed, "She wouldn't let me see you and the baby. So we played a game. She hid, and I found her."

"So where is she?" Jacaerys asked.

He shrugged, "I didn't find her yet."

Everyone's up to somethin'

The two of you shared a look, shaking your heads, "He's too smart for his own good."

Feeling a sharp pain in your abdomen, you held back the urge to cry out, not wanting to scare your son. Suddenly, you felt warm.

Grasping Jacaerys hand, you shot him a look, "Go fetch the Maester."

He jumped up, Arewyn still in his arms, and promised he'd be back shortly.

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

Every time you pushed, you felt a stabbing pain inside you. Although Arewyn's birth had hurt, you hadn't expected this birth to be worse.

They said the end is comin'

A fresh stream of tears cascading down your face, the maester promised it would be over soon.

Out glad-handing each other

Jacaerys held your hand, which was quite the fest itself with how hard you were gripping him, tighter with every push.

Nearly out of breath, you shook your head, suddenly dizzy, "I can't..."

"You should be doing more"

"You must, Princess," The Maester urged, "You need to push more."

Struggling to breathe, you kept pushing, crying out in pain.

After what seemed like hours, you heard the cries of a newborn baby, begging for it's mother.

The wetnurse lifted the babe, a smile on her face as she wrapped it in a blanket, "A boy, my prince."

Jacaerys smiled as she handed the babe to him, as you were too weak to hold him in your arms.

We almost forgot it

Watching as your husband rocked him slowly, back and forth, you nearly forgot about the pain.

The Maester sent a handmaiden to grab fresh linens as he tended to you, and she returned with not only the linens, but little Arewyn, too.

Outside they're push and shovin'

Rushing to your side, he struggled to climb on the bed. Using all his might, he gripped the sheets and sat cross legged beside you.

Attempting to lean over you to get to his brother, Jacaerys reached out a hand to stop him, "Careful, Arewyn. Your mother is still weak from the birth."

And the voices that implore

Groaning, Arewyn tilt his head to get a better look at the babe, a soft smile on his face, "Is it—"

"A boy," You answered, "We have yet to chose a name, my love."

"Then pick one," He urged, excitedly, clasping his hands together, "You can name him Arewyn."

Jacaerys shook his head, "That's your name. He needs a name of his own."

You gazed up at him, "Not quite a name of his own, but a memory of another."

It took him a moment to connect the dots, but once he did, he pursed his lips, "Are you sure?"

"I'm certain."

Jacaerys looked at your eldest son, turning the bay to face him, "Lucerys the second."

Arewyn smiled at him for a moment, before looking between his parents, "That's a long name. Can I call him Luc?"

To you, I can admit

Memories struck Jacaerys, of the times he and his brother had spent together, before he nodded, "I couldn't think of a better name."

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothin'

Before the births of your son's, you and Jacaerys shared a strong, beautiful love. And even after the addition of your heirs, that love continued, with only one difference. It was stronger. It was unconditional.

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