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shuichi-sama · 1 month

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scoring a date

volleyball captain! sunghoon! x manager! reader!

description: if someone had told you that after becoming your high school's volleyball team manager, you would capture the attention of it’s captain, park sunghoon, you wouldn’t have believe them. but as he charm’s his way to your heart, you just might.

or in which, sunghoon attempts to woo-you, seem to be working in his favor.

warnings: fluff! overuse of the word cute! (i swear i wrote it like 6 times)

note: inspired after watching en o’clock episode 87! i couldn’t help but picture all of them as a volleyball team!!!! LOWER CASE INTENDED!!!

___________

honestly? if someone had told you, that you would have volleyball captain, park sunghoon wrapped around your finger you would laugh at their face and certainly not the cute and giggly kind.

but as you watch him come up to you for like the nth time today, similar to every other day, you would be the fool not to believe them at that point.

“hi, y/n.” he says a smile gracing his face.

“sunghoon, you do know this like the fifth time you’ve come up to me during practice just to say hi right? and that’s not counting the four other hand waves you’ve given me.”

sunghoon, cheeks burns pink, it was a force of habit at this point. no matter how much he tried to avoid you, not like he wanted to anyways, if it wasn’t his eyes, the boy would physically gravitate towards you every single time without even noticing.

“well, i have an excuse this time. i actually came up here to ask you something.” If the blushing of his cheeks weren’t a quick give away of his nervousness, the cute tremor in his voice surely was.

“oh, what is it then?” without looking up from your clipboard, sunghoon take it as an opportunity to ask you what’s he’s been dying to ask you for a couple of weeks now, if you looked him in the eye at that moment he wasn’t so sure he would be able to go through with it, no matter how confident he was.

“go on a date with me.”

what? you were not death so you were sure you heard him correctly, but still.

“uh, you want me to go on a date with you? but why?”

confusion and hurt etches on his face at your question, as you prance on realizing just how bad your words had sounded. “i mean, why me?” the tilt of his head encourages you to elaborate.

“i’m socially awkward, i don’t really get along well with people outside of my friend group, i have a bad attitude, and there is a line of pretty girls who would kill to go on a date with you.”

sunghoon finds your rambling rather cute, it’s not like he didn’t know any of this information already. the both of you coming from very different social status at school, while sunghoon was very social, popular and very much liked at school, girls lining up just to get a glimpse of him throughout the halls, you were quite opposite of him.

you were a loner aside from your two reoccurring friends he would see you at lunch with. you weren’t not like at school but nobody really knew who you were, always keeping to yourself. as for your bad monotonous attitude? he thought it was cute, knowing full well it was only because you weren’t the best at expressing yourself, always giving everybody the wrong impression or idea, which may have lead to some very offended students.

sunghoon likes you just the way you are, so it irks him just a bit to listen to you list all these, qualities you deem flaws, but he wouldn’t tell you that at least not yet, he rather tease you first. “well, i think you would be the prettiest girl in that line.”

even if it wasn’t the first time for sunghoon to call you “pretty,” or even “cute,” you could just never get used to it, he simply has a way of making you dig the sole of your right shoe into the glossy wooden floor of the gymnasium bashfully.

“i-i never said i was in that line.” sunghoon eyebrows quirk at that.

“i would like you to be though.” even as his confidence seems to deter, he presses on, wanting a proper answer from you, hopeful it was one that invoked a late night date, that ends with a stroll at the nearest park while eating ice cream, possibly holding your hand if you allow him to.

“is that a no to the date?” his question, has your down cast eyes shoot up suddenly just for them to look away just as quickly. sunghoon can’t seem to take his eyes off of you making you want to turn into a putty right in front of him.

“o-oh, i never said that either.” every time sunghoon ever held a conversation with you, it always seemed like a push and pull feeling. it left him confused many times but a part of him knew that’s just how you are, and honestly? he found it cute, you were cute, so he would willingly pull you as much as he could and would take as many pushes as you want to give.

“so, is that a yes then?” he grins at your lack of eye contact, cute.

“uh-maybe.” he chuckles at your response, it being so you. as much as he wants to press on for a definite answer, he doesn’t know the full extent of your limit. no matter just how much he would love to tease you to find out he doesn’t, as you pull a strand behind your hair, the red tips of your ear giving away your embarrassment.

he chuckles, reaching for the top of your head, before he could ruffle it into a mess, you flinch not used to the physical contact of a guy.

“oh, i’m sorry. i got a head of myself, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” sunghoon retracts his hand to his side. distress with the idea of making you uncomfortable unintentionally, he only wishes he could kick himself for his bad habit of not keeping his cool whenever you were around.

raising your clipboard to cover your tainted cheek, you shake your head, to make him understand he misunderstood your actions. the frown forming on his face, has you clearing your throat, and pulling down the clipboard to speak much more clearer than you have been doing this whole time.

“no, it’s not that-i guess you you can say-that perhaps you just make me just a bit nervous in a good way is all.”

sunghoon’s frown ebbs away, only to switch to a look of widen eyes, and disbelieve at your clear confession. “oh.”

“why are you smiling at me like that?” you ask his looked of disbelieve turns to another of happiness, as if he had hit the jackpot, and in his world he did.

“cause you just told me i make you nervous.” well not that he didn’t know, if he wasn’t so sure he would have thought you were either nervous all the time, or simply emotionless, but you confirming that his presence made you nervous in a “good way” as you said, he was first pumping the air in his head.

“is it that shocking?” you asked out loud, more to yourself really.

he didn’t respond to your question either way. opting out to make a deal with you instead, evident that this conversation would see no end. no matter that he just wants to talk to you for the remainder of the hour, he couldn’t. if coach catches him slacking, sunghoon would be running endless lap around the the school til he saw fit, especially as team captain.

“how about we make a deal? if my team wins the mock game by 5 points difference, you’ll let me take you on a date.”

you didn’t have to consider much, but you firmly believe in his capability to score more as team manager. “if you score a difference of 10 i’ll go on a date with you.”

“you must really not want to go on a date with me, uh?” he jokingly asks.

“no, i just have faith in your abilities to beat them with a 10 point difference.”

“okay, a 10 point difference, and i also get to hold your hand after practice, it’s only fair if we both add something, no?”

sure it was fair, but now you were blushing again. “okay, deal.”

“perfect,” just before he could turns to go back to his team, he speaks again, “just so you know, i’m not going easy on them.”

“well, as team manager i would be upset if you did.”

with a beaming smile he directs at you, he reaches over your head once again unconsciously, still out of bad habit thought this time you don’t flinch away as he ruffles your hair.

you were unsure who was more nervous leaving the gymnasium, but as you walk hand in hand with sunghoon, he blames practice for his sweaty palms even after he had taken his shower. Though truthfully, he thinks it might just be too early to tell you just how nervous you make him feel, he still has to take you on a date first!

SCOREBOARD: 30/15

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boorines · 2 months

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what pet names (if any) do you think the svt members would use? ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

this is such a cute ask ahh!! sorry it took literal ages to get to, i’ve had the worst case of writer’s block and i’m slowly working through my reqs!

Pet names seventeen would call you

—

SEUNGCHEOL

doll. you’re his world and he’d spoil you to no end. every thing you’d want would become yours and you’d never have to lift a finger. he’d dote on you so much and all he’d expect in return is your love, you’d be his lovely doll.

“look at what i got, doll. you like it? do you think it’s pretty? it’s for you”

JEONGHAN

angel. of course, the angel needs his twin flame. you’d be his angel and his partner in crime. you both have your mischievous, devilish streaks too, so the nickname would be perfect. to him you’re angelic and could do no wrong, even when you’ve baked a cake but won’t let him touch it yet.

“angel, you’re being so mean. just one look? i promise i won’t take a bite”

JOSHUA

love. simple and sweet. he prefers to use ‘love’ because it’s exactly what he feels for you and he wants you to know it, remember it all the time. you’re his love and he wants to shower you in it as much as he can.

“mm, i’ll be there in 10. of course, love, i’ll pick it up for you, i love you, too”

JUN

beautiful. jun is in awe of you. you’re breathtaking to him and he’s going to make sure you know it. he’d call you beautiful so often it becomes a nickname for you. neither of you realise when it happens until you’re being called beautiful for the 5th time in the day.

“there’s a fresh towel on the bed for you, beautiful. you don’t need to find a new one”

SOONYOUNG

babe. simple but sweet. he also uses your name often, he says it softly and gently, like it’s his favorite word. he’ll still follow up with a ‘babe’, though. and if he’s within arm’s distance of you he’s definitely punctuating his sentence with a squeeze of your hand or waist.

“babe, we can do the laundry later, it’s so warm in bed, stay just 5 more minutes? please…”

WONWOO

pretty. to wonwoo, you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. it comes so naturally to him, especially when you are the embodiment of the word in his eyes. you could be sat on the couch flicking through apps mindlessly when you’ll hear him call for you. whether it’s to ask for help or just for the sake of having your attention on him.

“want to play a couple of games later, pretty? or watch a movie? what are you feeling?”

JIHOON

your name. jihoon has a way with words, he pours meaning into every single one he speaks. so to him nothing comes close to the love and meaning he puts into saying your name. it would be tender and loving and it would be yours.

“do they fit well, does it pinch at your ankle? they’re very pretty, ____. i’ll get them for you”

MINGHAO

gorgeous. an almost sensual nickname that rolls off his tongue so easily. it shows just how lucky he feels to have you and it makes your cheeks heat up every time you hear it. he particularly loves seeing you flustered when he springs it on you when you least expect it.

“you’re at lunch with your friends today, right? need me to drop you and pick you up after, gorgeous?”

MINGYU

baby. a classic name for a hopeless romantic. something about you being his baby makes him melt and he just can’t get enough of saying it. you feel so cherished when he uses it and he loves the rush of warmth and pride he gets calling you it. often comes with a sudden back hug, maybe even a pout if he’s wanting your attention.

“please, baby, can we watch just one more episode. it’s only 2am… baby…”

SEOKMIN

buttercup. this is SO seokmin. you’re delicate and pretty like a flower to him. and combined with the fact that he’d love being called sunshine or honey? you both are so sunny and bright together.

“i found them! i found the keys, oh my god they were under the cabinet, buttercup. can you believe that?”

SEUNGKWAN

my sweetheart. seungkwan would use ‘my’ a lot, he would love the intimacy as well as the slight possessiveness that comes with the word. my love, my darling, etc. he’d be a sucker for calling you his and showing you off to everyone that way.

“you’re always the most beautiful in the room. let me introduce you to everyone, my sweetheart, hm?”

VERNON

babe. also keeps it simple. he’s more about subtle affection and wants his actions to speak louder than his words. a soft ‘babe’ accompanied by a gentle tap on your knee to wake you up when you doze off on the sofa, another call while he wordlessly points out something on his phone. he’s all about showing, not telling.

“babe, how many eggs should i put in for two ramen packs?”

CHAN

darling. he’s so affectionate with you it’s unbelievable. while he isn’t one for over the top romance, his affection comes through in so many other ways. when he wordlessly refills glasses of water for you throughout the day or throws a towel in the dryer so it’s nice and warm for you after your shower.

“i’ll tidy up, darling. you get ready for bed, yeah?”

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eternalfics · 4 months

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Hello! I hope you're doing well! I have a request if you don't mind. So basically, It's a Saiki x Psychic Reader where Saiki is stressed out and needs something to make him feel better so the Reader decided to massage his back. Since Saiki never really had anyone with the same strength as him, no one could really massage him. It's like that one episode in season one or two. Anyways, it's okay if you don't want to do this for any type of reason. Be safe, thank you!

saiki getting a massage from psychic!reader

a/n: I was wondering where did my request go like? ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING! please start requesting more pookie wookie 🤭 anyway you remember how I reposted that I’d do that little teasing photo (picturing saiki and reader) I’m gonna do like a little enemies to lovers kind of thing you get me? anyway I typed too much so let’s getting bloody started 😖

warnings: sneaky comments from me, toritsuka 😨

summary: saiki gets an amazing, beautiful, sensational, eye rolling massage 🥳

“no means no, y/n,” saiki said in your mind for the umpteenth time, trying to focus on what the teacher was saying even though he didn’t need too. he smart af

“oh come on! we both know you need it, especially after you used boulders to massage your shoulders.” you tried to reason with him only to be met with silence. You turn to Saiki with a confused look only to see him with a slightly flustered face.

“you just had to use clairvoyance, didn’t you?” “I always have to check up on my favourite psychic, don’t I?” you said teasingly.

more underneath:

so! 😀

saiki’s not too sure about this

i mean sure, your a psychic but you could be stupid like toritsuka and can’t control your strength like him.

saiki lays on his stomach on his bed, (you guys are at his house) slightly regretting saying yes to another psychic that he just met a few months ago.

you come in the room with a massaging oil, feeling proud that you finally got the psychic to give in to your request more like command

saiki doesn’t speak (hes secretly wondering why did he agree to this 😭). it’s not until you rub the oil between your hands, and then you start to massage him is when he lets out a soft groan.

you pause. you start to overthink, did you hurt him? does he like it? it’s only when saiki starts calling out your name that you zone in.

“why’d you stop?” saiki asked impatiently, clearly wanting you to continue. you opened your mouth to tease him but he shushed you quickly knowing that you would.

saiki’s surprised that he knows you this well even though he met you a while ago. well, he’s more of an observant person so that explains that. he wonders if you know him well too. (I know you well my pookie wookie boo 🥺)

“your lower back too?” you asked him, really just wanting to make him feel relaxed.. and safe.. and- focus y/n! “sure.”

you continued to massage saiki for a couple of minutes, thinking about if he would let other people do this to him aswell.

saiki was quiet, and you didn’t hear any thoughts so you leaned over to look at him. you were met with an adorable sight! saiki sleeping 😍. his light snores and breathing filled your ears.

unfortunately, people can’t live the easy way saiki. SMACK! you smack saiki awake and your met with an extremely pissed looking psychic.

“whats wrong with you? 😡”

“did you enjoy your massage? 😇”

“ugh..”

saiki groans but quickly gets over it because he realises has to pay you back somehow? mmm maybe a cafe coupon? a dat- nononono..

“what do you want in return?” saiki asked, his voice still a bit groggy since he just woke up. “oh nothing, you can pay me back later.” you replied calmly, happy you could be of service. these days your parents are on more business trips so your glad your not lonely 😋.

saiki gets up and immediately he feels the relief from on his back. just as he’s about to reach for the door handle,

“my turn!” 🥰

“you just said I could pay you back late-“

IM SO SOREY THIS TOOK SO LONG

#kusuo saiki x reader #kusuo saiki x y/n #saiki fluff #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo fluff #saiki kusuo x female!reader #saiki kusuo x gn!reader #saiki kusuo x male!reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 9 months

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darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 1: Sunrise

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: Queen Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello, everyone! Welcome to the very first instalment of this series, featuring baby!Babey and teen-uncle!Daemon! This prologue will be the only Daemon POV of this instalment (or at least that is my current plan), and there will be several time jumps in keeping with canon. Please keep in mind that, as canon diverges around Episode 5/6 in this series, much of what occurs in the show will also occur as-is here, so don’t expect anything particularly innovative in terms of plot, lol. I’m hoping this will be an opportunity to establish Babey as a firm part of the storyline in a manner that is a little less ambiguous, and will also serve to provide more wholesome Babey/Daemon interactions to foreground their later shift. A couple things: there will be NO ROMANCE in this fic, because Babey is a child. Ew. There may be mentions of romance between other characters, but this story will be told firmly through Babey’s eyes and thus events are limited to her own interpretations.

Anyway! Enough from me - on with the show!

TRIGGERS: mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of childbirth trauma, blood.

“And so it was that, in the summer of 109 AC, Queen Aemma took once again to her childbed, remaining there for near two days for what would be a difficult and taxing labour. In the early hours of the morning, King Viserys and his lady wife welcomed a living babe—but not the babe they expected. The arrival of a second daughter took both by surprise, for they had come to believe the child in the Queen’s belly had been their longed-for son. It was nonetheless announced that the Queen had been delivered of a healthy girl, and a great relief was struck up across the Realm, the bells of King’s Landing being rung from dawn to dusk and the people gathering on the streets in praise of their new Princess.”

- ‘Fire and Blood: Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros’ by Archmaester Gyldayn

It's quiet this time, he thinks. No snivelling midwives, no wailing… A good thing, surely.

Still. The silence, in all of its peculiarity, is unnerving. After the last occasion—the frenetic activity bustling up and down the halls, the yelling, the sound of Aemma’s screams, the stench of blood thickening in his nostrils as he stepped forth to take his first and last view of the purple, unmoving babe in the cradle he would never outgrow—the absence of sound seems almost foreboding. Should he not hear the child cry? Should he not be within by now? He would venture to knock on the door, but he dare not risk disturbing this fragile peace—especially if it is not fated to remain so.

Thus, Daemon Targaryen, eighteen summers of age and the King’s very own brother, waits in his seat opposite the entry to the Queen’s chambers as he has done for hours. And, as he sits, he prays.

Well—not pray, exactly. He’d have to believe in gods to do that. But, should a higher power exist, it cannot hurt to lend his own voice to the masses that even now attempt to muster enough mercy to grant the survival of his cousin and the child she has worked so hard to bring forth these past moons. Let them live, he urges, pressing the thought out into the air around him, into the sky far above the Keep. Let them both live.

“Any news?”

Daemon snaps to attention, head tilting automatically to the intruder. He suppresses a sneer. Now is not the time.

“Nothing,” he says, taking care to keep his tone even.

Otto Hightower sighs. “Well”—the Hand of the King moves closer, towering over Daemon with his hands clasped behind his back—“no news is good news, I hope.”

“Hm.” He’ll not dignify that with a response.

Hightower’s eyes narrow in on him. “There is no need to sound quite so downtrodden, Prince Daemon. I am sure the King will find some use for you… now that you are no longer his heir.”

He knows what the man is after. A display of anger, perhaps—maybe even hot-headed insistence on his part that his position stands as it has since Viserys won the throne, that the child is dead, that the Lord has every reason to fear him still. He won’t give him the satisfaction, though. If his brother ventures out to see Daemon once again railing at his most trusted advisor…

Daemon’s desire to meet his nephew outweighs his need to put this upstart in his place.

“Never fear, Otto.” He smiles, lips stretched wide with too much teeth, threatening more than welcoming. “I’ll always have a place by Viserys’s side. I am his brother. And you…” He looks the man up and down. Even now, the pin of the Hand is attached to the cunt’s lapel like a sycophantic badge of honour, gleaming in the golden torchlight. “What are you, exactly?”

Hightower’s jaw clenches. “I am the Hand of the Ki—”

“For now,” Daemon says, a smug half-smirk playing at the very corners of his mouth. “Don’t forget that. For now.”

What he doesn’t say is plain to read upon his face. One day, he’ll understand. One day, he’ll see you for what you really are. A leech, one who latches onto power and drains those who truly wield it dry.

The reminder makes Otto pale. “I—”

The door creaks open, the flushed face of one Viserys Targaryen appearing in the space between wood and frame. “Daemon.”

Daemon rises. “Is—how is—” He cannot get the fucking words out.

His brother grins. “Aemma is well, and the babe is healthy.”

He lets out a relieved breath, surprised to discover exactly how tense he had been since the messenger had roused him from sleep at the hour of the owl. That tension releases itself with the air he pushes from his lungs, his shoulders sagging from the freedom of it. Suddenly, his eyes no longer feel so wide, so fear-bright, and fatigue sets in. He is tired. But first—

“May I see him?” he asks.

At that, Viserys pauses, whatever he had intended to say to Otto left unfinished. He clears his throat, all joy fleeing his face. “Ah… About that.”

“Is the boy… crippled?” The Hand’s voice is hushed, apprehensive.

“No, no!” Viserys insists, shaking his head. “Only… she is small, quiet. Nothing at all like Rhaenyra was.”

“A girl? But Runciter was so certain!” Otto says, mouth parted in shock.

Runciter’s a fucking fool. Anyone who sets stock by his theories ought to be burned alive, Daemon thinks, rolling his eyes. He’d never liked maesters—any of them, least of all the doddering fuckwits appointed to the vaunted station of Grand Maester. That Runciter had gotten this wrong is hardly surprising. None of them seem to know what they are doing.

He pushes around his brother and leaves him to his latest inanity, moving onward to where his newest niece lay.

The Queen’s chambers are stifling, unbearably hot, the windows closed tight and the fires blazing in spite of the warmth already pervading the early hours of the morn. Another ridiculous notion, he suspects, though whether it be Westerosi custom or Targaryen superstition, he knows not. Perhaps dragonbabes can only be born into the fire they are made from.

Last time he was here, Aemma had been gaunt, eyes red-rimmed and near hysterical from the passing of her first, her only son. She’d laid weeping in her bloodied shift still, bedraggled hair sticking to slick skin as she’d mourned the child, insensate to kind words or reason from any who had approached her. Eventually, Viserys had demanded all who were not the blood of the dragon to remove themselves from the room. Together, he and Daemon had borne Aemma from her childbed, had taken her to the bath still waiting, had disposed of the last markers of gloom and tragedy marring the space.

Only those of Valyrian blood should ever bear witness to weakness from one of their own. Only those of Valyrian blood could ever understand the magnitude of such a loss. Their line had been dying out since the Doom—every death since only ever added salt to the wound.

What Daemon walks into this time is different. So very, very different.

Aemma is gaunt still, overcome by weariness, no doubt sapped greatly by the trials of such long labour. Shadows carve deep hollows beneath her eyes, skeletal, made almost sinister by the flicker of dim light, and her mouth is pale and cracked. Yet, there is naught but a buoyant sort of lightness adorning her face, shining more brilliantly than a crown ever could.

The chamber bears none of that ominous atmosphere that pervaded that night, instead filled with the heady scent of frankincense clogging each breath he draws, earthy smoke settling warm in his gut. The sheets are clean. The midwives calm. The Grand Maester, asleep in the chair by the fire.

And, in the Queen’s arms, the smallest wrapped bundle he has ever seen.

“Is that…” He swallows, dazed and speechless.

His cousin beams. “Come,” she says. “Come and meet her.”

Wordlessly, he approaches, taking care to make his footfalls light so as not to disturb the delicate creature enshrined in a mother’s embrace. As he draws close, he sees that the babe is not asleep as he had thought. Instead, open eyes look upward, deep dark indigo with the merest hint of lilac-violet-amethyst, the promise of Old Valyria in that muzzy, unfocused gaze.

This is the moment he meets you.

Aemma graciously accepts his silent question, relinquishing you to your uncle with naught but a gentle sigh and a stroke to the cheek. So little are you that you settle easily into the line of his arm, head to the crook of his elbow and rump to his cupped hand, light enough that it would be easy to forget you are even there. You let out a soft bleat, feet kicking beneath your swaddling—but that is all. For when that blue-nearly-purple stare shifts, locking with his, you fall silent, still. And so does he.

You are beautiful.

Of course you are. Viserys is hardly the handsomest of men, and Aemma comely enough though of no great noteworthiness, but their firstborn is about as lovely as any girl of nine summers can be. Your sister.

Gods, he thinks. Rhaenyra, an elder sister. The very notion of his spoiled little niece playing such a part seems unwittingly hilarious in this moment. She will not like being made to share her mama and papa—her uncle—with you.

Right now, that is irrelevant. His attention returns to the slope of your nose, the rosebud bloom of your lips, the blush of your rounded cheeks, tracking the near ethereal features of your face with a delicate fingertip. Newborns are dreadful looking things, usually, squished and red and misshapen. You look like a painting, or a doll made by the finest artisans, a sculpture rendered by magic rather than mortal hands. He wonders if it is love for you—and it is love, he has no doubt of that, for his love of family is perhaps the one true redeeming quality he possesses—that blinds him to any imperfection, or if you really are as lovely as you seem.

“What will you name her?” he asks, smoothing the cloths off your fragile little head to take the briefest peek at your scalp. Ah—there it is. Targaryen silver. With an Arryn for a mother, one could never be certain.

“Rhaenyra’s insisted on naming her sister Visenya.”

Daemon glances toward the foot of the bed. Viserys has returned, absent of his loyal hound, drawing near without his notice.

He snorts. “How very like her.” ‘Tis true; Rhaenyra has always been fixated on stories of the Conqueror and his wives, in particular forming a fascination for the elder of Aegon’s Queens. It is a powerful name. A warrior’s name. He frowns. “A fine name—but not for this little thing.”

Visenya is anger and retribution; violence and chaos; death and destruction. Daemon can find nothing of the sort in you. Every part of you—from the tips of your fuzzed palewhite hair to the petite softness of your wiggly little feet—seems fit for a destiny of another kind. One of peace, of calm, of joy and goodness.

Aemma hums an agreement, wholly preoccupied with gazing at her newest child. “If she were a son, her name would be Baelon.”

“Hm.” Viserys steps forward, palm brushing featherlight across your side as he passes to sit by his wife. “Baelon and Visenya. Those are the names we had prepared. But alas, Baelon was not to be. And Visenya is not… right.”

Daemon stands, bringing you a scant few steps toward the window. Dawn is approaching. The sky has relinquished the darkness of night, and there, on the horizon, the faintest of ambers illuminates the locus where the heavens and the earth meet, silhouetting the city below. As he watches the sun rise, he just barely hears the staff behind him make their final exits, awash in a rustle of equipment and a hush of words offered to their mistress and exultant ruler.

A tiny noise below draws his interest. Your eyelids have drooped, soft lashes framing lavender lids that sweep across the skin of your cheeks. When he dips his finger into the parting of your mouth, you begin to suckle at him, reflex rather than need.

“What would you call her?” Aemma asks after seconds, minutes, hours. He turns, brow arched in surprise. She seems genuinely curious, though she is admittedly not one for mean-spirited japes as it is. His cousin has always valued his opinion more than his brother ever had, even if was she who had forced his bitch of a wife upon him. “If you could,” she adds, “what name would you give her?”

He looks to Viserys, wordlessly asking for permission. A dip of the chin is his response. Letting loose a soft grunt, he peers down at his small charge.

Visenya is too fierce. Gael too glum. Too many fucking ‘Rhae’ names, so no Rhaenys. Daella too bland, Saera too provocative, Alysanne too common.

And then, he thinks upon it. The perfect name. Your name. When he says it aloud, he is met with a shine in Aemma’s eyes, a gleam in Viserys’s grin.

“That is it,” the King says, nodding decisively. “That is what we shall call her.” Rising, he comes forward to clap Daemon on the shoulder lightly, hand warm even through the layers of his shirt and coat. “Thank you, brother.”

“Your Grace,” he murmurs, tipping his head.

There is a tightening in his chest, the sort of feeling that threatens to stop his heart from the depth of his own enduring emotion. As Viserys makes his way to the door to deliver the announcement—to proclaim your birth, to order the ringing of the bells, to declare your name for the entire world to hear and know—Daemon gazes down at you.

“What do you think, sweetling?” He says your name again.

This time, he swears that you smile back at him.

Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123097897

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little-moonbeam-666 · 2 years

Text

Not Your Boyfriend

Well 5800 words later.... Here ya go!

Your boyfriend, Joseph, comes home dressed as Eddie

SMUT AHEAD

You watched the live show from your laptop, grinning at the sight of your boyfriend on his first ever talk show. You were so proud of him and what he’s managed to accomplish. Since Stranger Things season 4 had come out, Joe’s life had been hectic. But he’d always made sure to set aside time for you. He was so sweet. But hearing your name being spoken brought you out of your daydream, your eyes and ears now focused on the screen.

“My girlfriend, Y/N, really is amazing. The best girlfriend ever, really. She’s really the one who helped me get the American accent perfected since she’s American. We were stuck together in my flat in London throughout the pandemic and quarantine and everything so I had a lot of time to really study the way she talks and I kind of used that as a guideline for how I made Eddie sound.”

Your heart swelled hearing him talk so highly of you and how you actually contributed to the beloved character Eddie Munson. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you watched the rest of the show, eager for your boyfriend to return to the hotel.

You watched a couple episodes of Stranger Things season 4, drooling over your boyfriend as Eddie Munson, before turning it off and just scrolling on your phone. You must’ve fallen asleep while waiting for Joseph to return because you woke up to the opposite side of the bed dipping and an arm wrapping around your middle and pulling you against a broad chest. Your eyes fluttered open and you craned your neck to peek behind you, only to see your boyfriend grinning at you.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, darling.” he said, leaning over to press a chaste kiss against your lips.

“S’ok.” you mumbled, sleep lacing your voice as you rolled over to face him. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, lovey.” he said, his breath fanning across your face as his hands skimmed over your side down to your thigh, pulling it up over his own so he could be impossibly closer to you. You whined, feeling his half hard erection pressing against you. “Are you too tired tonight, baby?”

“I’m never too tired for you.” you said, pressing your lips against his and whining against his mouth when his hips rocked against yours. “Make love to me, Joseph. Please, baby?”

“What my baby wants, my baby gets.” he said, moving to stand up so he could push his sleep pants and his underwear to the floor before crawling back in bed to lay down next to you. His lips immediately found yours and his hands found your hips, his fingers digging slightly into your love handles. You disliked them but Joe seemed to love them more than you ever thought possible.

“Joe… clothes…. off.” you mumbled between kisses. He smirked against your lips before pulling away to sit up and gently tug at the fabric of the oversized shirt you wore to bed. You sat up and lifted your arms, allowing him to tug the offending garment over your head before tossing it to the floor. You laid back down as Joe moved to sit between your legs and his hands gently cupped your breasts in his hands, letting his thumbs gently rub over your nipples as they hardened under his touch. His hands didn’t stay there nearly long enough for your liking, him deciding to move his hands down your stomach to the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me, darling.” he ordered quietly, his fingers slipping under the elastic band and tugging them down your thick thighs. He sat back, staring down at you in awe. “Fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“Josephhhh!” you whined, his immense staring and lack of physical contact driving you insane.

“Sorry, darling. I just couldn’t help myself. You’re stunning.” he said, moving to hover over you. He reached his hand down to gently rub his fingers up and down your slit, groaning at how wet you already were. “And you’re already so wet for me, baby.”

You couldn’t help but whine and buck your hips while he teased you, taking his slick coated fingers and rubbing slow circles over your clit. He chuckled at the way your hips stuttered against his hand before moving his fingers down to your hole and gently pushing his middle finger all the way inside you.

“Joseph! Oh fuck!” you moaned, feeling him begin to thrust his finger in and out of you at a lazy pace.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, curling his finger against your inner wall, making your eyes roll back. “Do you want more?”

“Yes… please I need your cock, baby.” you begged, staring at him with wide eyes knowing that your sweet Joseph would cave and give you exactly what you wanted. You almost whimpered as he removed his fingers from your cunt but you were cut off by the feeling of him rubbing his tip through your drenched folds.

“You ready, lovey?” he asked sweetly, smiling down at you.

“I’m ready.” you said, grinning up at him and wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him into you.

You both moaned at the feeling of finally being connected and you wasted no time in rocking your hips, encouraging him to move. He did as you silently asked, slowly pulling out about halfway before thrusting back in.

You gasped, feeling his tip nudge gently against your cervix, effectively knocking the wind out of you. He grunted into your neck before kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, leaving dark bruises behind. Your fingers tangled in his curls, holding him against you while he continued to thrust into you and mark up your neck. Your eyes closed on their own accord, little whimpers leaving your mouth with every thrust.

“Oh… oh fuck! Joseph… baby…”

“Mmm does this feel good, my love?” he asked between kisses and nips against your throat.

“Yes! Yes, baby. Keep fucking me just like that.” you moaned, tugging on his hair to maneuver his lips back to yours.

“Anything you want, love.” he mumbled before pressing his lips hard against yours. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breath, his tongue dancing sensually with yours. Your brain was getting foggy, forgetting where you ended and he began. Everything was a blur of emotions and pleasure, so much so that you didn’t even hear yourself talking.

“Mmm oh god, fuck, Eddie! Oh fuck!” you moaned against his lips, too focused on the pleasure for your brain to register what you’d just said. But Joseph had heard you loud and clear. His hips came to an abrupt stop and he pulled his lips from yours, staring at you with wide eyes. You looked at him with your eyebrows scrunched together, clearly confused. “Joseph, baby, why’d you stop?”

“Darling…” he started slowly, his mind racing trying to figure out a good way to approach this situation. “Do you really not know why I stopped?”

You shook your head, staring up at him in confusion.

“No?”

He slowly slid out of you and laid down next to you on the bed. You began to worry, not understanding why he was being so quiet. Then he took a deep breath before looking over at you.

“Y/N, you moaned out ‘Eddie’ instead of my name.” he stated. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. You were absolutely mortified. You had tried so hard to hide the crush you had on the character that he played, but apparently you just told him in the worst way possible by moaning said characters name during sex.

“Joe, baby….” you started, not quite sure what to say.

“Baby, it’s ok. Please know I’m not mad. I’m just shocked. I thought Eddie wasn’t quite your type.” he said, giving you a half smile, still trying to assess the situation. You on the other hand were still horrified at what you’d said, pulling the blankets up over your body and clutching them tightly against your chest. “Is Eddie your type, love?”

“God, I don’t know! I’m so sorry, Joe. I didn’t even realize I’d said it!” you sputtered, fumbling horribly over your words and refusing to look at Joe, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling. You clutched the blankets tighter to your chest in an attempt to calm you down. “It’s not that he’s my type or whatever, but he’s the type of person I gravitated towards back in highschool. Hell, I was exactly like Eddie back in highschool. Tight jeans, leather jacket, metal music… the works. But fuck, I just can’t help but be attracted to him. I mean, he’s got your face for heaven's sake so obviously I’m gonna think he’s hot. And I watched a couple episodes of Stranger Things before you came back so I guess he was just on my mind. Fuck, I am so fucking sorry.”

You immediately felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you tight against him. You were stiff in his arms, afraid that if you relaxed the tears would start to fall. You felt his chin rest on your shoulder and you glanced over at him, only to see him grinning at you and his wide brown eyes staring into yours.

“Baby, it’s alright. I love you and you have nothing to be ashamed of. We can forget this ever happened, ok? Would that make you feel better?” he said. You nodded your head quickly, wanting this conversation to be over. “Ok then, this whole situation never happened, my love. Now just relax and let’s get some sleep. We have a flight first thing in the morning.”

And just like that, the conversation was over. For months it was completely forgotten about and you two had gone back to normal life. At least it was normal until Stranger Things season 5 had started filming. Joseph had a habit of bringing you on set with him whenever he could. And that involved you seeing him in costume… as Eddie.

You thought that you were being discreet about how you looked at him while he was in costume. He gave no hints that he knew you were practically fantasizing about ‘Eddie’ instead of him. Well…. It technically was him if you really thought about it. But you couldn’t help the feeling you got while seeing him dressed as your fictional crush.

About halfway through the day when they were taking a break, you decided you were gonna head home for the day. You quickly told Joe goodbye, pecking his lips quickly before you left and made your way back to the house you were staying at while he was filming.

You took a deep breath as soon as you walked in the door, feeling like you could finally breathe. You didn’t realize that you had been practically holding your breath all day. You knew Joe had a short day today and would be home in about an hour, so you decided to relax, or at least try to.

The bathwater was steaming hot when you stepped in and smelled like vanilla and spice. Candles were lit around the room and the lights were off, leaving you in glowing light from the flames.

Reminiscing on your thoughts, you felt almost guilty about how you’d been thinking of your boyfriend as Eddie. You’d had that one slip up and never spoke about it again… but now you wished you had. Your thoughts were racing as you laid back in the tub and you could feel the familiar heat begin to bloom in your belly. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way but you couldn’t help it.

You quickly pushed the thoughts away and just focused on taking your bath. You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been sitting in the tub, but the water had begun to chill so you decided to get out and get changed into your pajamas. Maybe something sexy for when Joseph got home. Ya know, to make up for the thoughts you’d been having about Eddie… the same thoughts that Joseph was completely unaware of.

You dried yourself off and wrapped the towel snug around your body as you went to your bedroom, digging through your dresser drawers for something sexy yet comfortable you could wear. You smirked as your fingers ran across the silky fabric you’d been searching for. This would be perfect. You pulled out the black satin nightie and smiled, knowing just how much Joseph loved seeing you in it. It barely covered your ass but you didn’t care. You slipped it on over your head and right as you were smoothing out the wrinkles a voice interrupted your thoughts. And not the British voice of your boyfriend, no…. A very AMERICAN voice.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look good.”

You spun around on your heel and your eyes went wide with shock as they landed on the person leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom. The black jeans, the hellfire club shirt, the handcuff belt, and the long curly hair that you desperately wanted to run your fingers through. You quickly caught your breath before speaking.

“Joe, you scared the shit out of me! Why are you still in costume? Does the costume department know you brought all of this home with you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Joe? Oh honey, he’s the one who sent me here.” he said, still in that American accent and giving you a smile while pushing gently off the doorframe and taking agonizingly slow steps towards you and making you back up towards your bed. “As a matter of fact, he told me that a certain naughty little girl has been having some very dirty thoughts about me. He said you were staring at me all day today. Ya know, he even told me that you moaned my name during sex once. So tell me, sweetheart, is it true?”

By the time he’d stopped talking he was directly in front of you and the backs of your knees were pressed tightly against the edge of your bed. You had nowhere to run. You were cornered… but you weren’t sure that you wanted to escape. You gulped hard and just nodded your head, too embarrassed to speak.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna need you to talk to me if this is what you want.” he coaxed, his voice gentle yet demanding.

“Yes… it’s true.” you whispered. He smirked down at you.

“That’s a good girl.” he cooed, his hand coming up to let his fingers stroke gently over your cheek. “Now, do you want this? Do you want me to fuck you until your screaming my name? If not, I can walk out of here right now and tell Joe that you didn’t want me after all, but if you do want this then I’m gonna need your verbal consent. This is a one time offer, sweetheart.”

You thought for a moment, wondering just how tonight would go if you said yes. Joseph had really gone all out for this. There wasn’t a single hint of Joseph in sight… it was all Eddie. The clothes, the hair, even the tattoos. He’d done this all for you, knowing just how badly you wanted a taste of your fictional crush. You’d be stupid to pass up the opportunity to sleep with THE Eddie Munson.

“I want this.” you said quietly, grinning up at him.

“That’s what I like to hear, princess.” he said, leaning down so his lips hovered over yours. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

You responded by bringing your hands up around his neck and pulling him to you, crashing your lips together. It was hurried and rushed, teeth clashing and lip biting. The moans spilled from your lips freely, unashamed at how turned on you were. His hands grabbed at your hips, holding you close.

“Please…” you whimpered between kisses, wanting more than he was giving you.

“What do you want, sweetheart? I’ll give you anything your naughty little heart desires. All you’ve gotta do is ask.”

“I… I don’t know.” you said, becoming shy all of a sudden. You were used to asking for things and being confident when it came to being with Joseph, but now that he was standing in front of you as Eddie, practically radiating confidence, your own confidence had been diminished.

“Babydoll, if you want this to work you need to talk to me. I’ll absolutely worship you, give you everything you need… but you’ve gotta talk to me, sweetheart.”

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart was threatening to beat right out of your chest.. You could feel yourself get wet at his promise to worship you. Now you just had to find your voice so he would give you what you wanted. It took a few moments, but you finally managed to make yourself speak.

“I… I want… oh fuck, just touch me! Please!” you begged, looking up into his eyes. You were sure you looked pitiful, begging for him to touch you, but you didn’t care.

“That’s a good girl, asking so politely for what she wants.” he teased, letting his hand move down to your thigh before slowly dragging it upwards and toying with the hem of your nightie. Your hand gripped his shoulders and you held your breath. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin had your heart racing.

“More… please, Eddie?” you asked quietly, still not used to calling him ‘Eddie’.

“Oh, baby girl, you learn so fast and you asked so nicely.” he cooed, his eyes practically shining with adoration as he moved his hand to the inside of your thigh before letting his fingers trail further up. His eyes went wide and he gasped, a smile forming on his face as he felt your bare pussy. “No panties, princess? So fucking naughty.”

His fingers delicately traced the outside of your pussy, gliding along the outside of your slit, making your eyes flutter shut. He chuckled, letting his fingers gently part your folds and rubbing his middle finger from your clit to your weeping hole and back up to the sensitive little bud. Your legs buckled slightly as his finger flicked your swollen clit. He chuckled, moving his finger back down and pushing gently inside you, curling ever so slightly against your front wall, making you moan.

“Oh god, Joseph!” you moaned. He immediately withdrew his fingers and brought his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“That’s not my name, sweetheart. You just can’t help but say another man's name, can you? First it was my name while you were with Joe and now you’re moaning his name while you’re with me. Such a little slut.”

You shivered and you could feel your cheeks begin to burn, but not with embarrassment. Hearing him call you a slut made your stomach do flips and made your pussy clench around nothing. It was a surprising reaction for sure. Joseph had never called you anything so degrading before… but you were now realizing that you loved it.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” You cooed, letting your shaky fingers play with his wavy hair and giving him the best doe eyes that you could. You draped yourself in this false innocence in hopes it would get him to call you dirty names again.

“Why don’t you make it up to me, princess? Let’s take off that pretty little nightie you have on and lay down on the bed for me.” he said, smirking down at you. His hand grabbed the edge of your nightie and slowly tugged it upwards. You lifted your arms obediently, allowing him to pull it over your head. He let out a low whistle as he dropped the satin fabric to the floor, making you blush. “Such pretty tits, babydoll. Now lay down for me.”

You did as he asked and got on the bed, laying back against the pillows. Your breathing was shallow from how nervous you were, making your breasts heave every time you inhaled. Your knees were pressed tightly together, hiding your most intimate part from his hungry gaze.

“Are you gonna join me, Eddie?” you asked, your voice dripping with innocence as you batted your eyes at him. He smiled at you, your sweet Joseph shining through for just a moment before smirking, switching back to Eddie.

“Of course, baby. Now open your legs and let me see how fucking wet that slutty little pussy is.” he commanded. Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words but you did as he asked, slowly letting your legs fall open.

“Am I wet enough for you, daddy?” you asked innocently, casually dropping in the previously unused nickname. You had no idea where it came from. It just… slipped out? You didn’t know how he would react either.

“Daddy? I’m your daddy now? Ohhh, I really like that, princess. But to answer your question, fuck yes. I can see how fucking soaked you are from here.” He said, shrugging off his jacket and pulling the iconic hellfire shirt up over his head, tossing them both to the floor. His eyes held contact with yours as he unbuckled his handcuff belt and unbuttoned his pants before shimmying them down past his hips so he could kick them off. You bit your lip as you watched him, your eyes wandering to the tattoos that were on his skin.

You let your hands begin to wander your body, fingers gently tweaking at your nipples before running down your stomach to your aching cunt. You let your fingers wander the inside of your thighs before letting one finger dip between your folds to gather your moisture before bringing it up to slowly circle your clit.

“Eddie… oh fuck, daddy.” you whimpered, your eyes meeting his once more as he was pushing down the blue boxers he had on. You moaned loudly upon seeing his hard cock slap up against his stomach, your finger instinctually moving faster on your clit.

“Do you want daddy's cock, princess?” he said in a teasing tone, crawling on the bed to hover over you. You bit your lower lip and nodded eagerly. You brought your hand up from your clit only to wrap your fingers around his throbbing cock, stroking him slowly, twisting your wrist with every upward stroke around his tip. The moan of your name that you managed to rip out of him was heavenly. “Oh- ohhh fuck, Y/N!”

“I want your cock, Eddie. Please?” you whined, purposely running his tip through your wet folds. His eyes practically rolled back but he stopped himself, pulling away from you before grabbing your hips and roughly flipping you over on to your stomach. You yelped at the sudden manhandling but the heat that had flared between your legs had betrayed you.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed, running his hands up the backs of your thighs to your ass, squeezing hard and giving each cheek a hard smack, letting out a chuckle at your little whine of pain. “You didn’t really think you were gonna get away with moaning another man's name, did you? Oh baby girl… Your boyfriend, Joe, might have let you get away with it in the past, but here’s the thing, I’m not your boyfriend and I don’t take too kindly to being called someone else’s name while I’m the one making you feel good. So you’re gonna lay there and take your punishment like a good girl, aren’t you, baby? Then if you’re good, I’ll fuck you like the little whore that I know you are. Sound good?”

“Yes, Eddie… I’ll be a good girl.” you whimpered, trying not to focus on the heat blooming on your ass where he’d previously smacked you.

There were a few moments of complete silence where neither of you dared to move. Out of nowhere his hand came down on your ass, hard, making you yelp and jump at the sudden contact. Not even three seconds had passed before his hand came down on the other cheek, just as hard. You yelped again and squeezed the pillow to your face to muffle the sounds. You didn’t want him to think you were weak. Six more hits came down in quick succession, giving you absolutely no time to process the pain. The heat spread quickly and you knew you were gonna have some handprint shaped welts on your ass and possibly a bit of bruising. You were so shocked that you didn’t even realize that some tears had escaped from your eyes, but he did.

“Awww, is my pretty baby crying? You look so pretty when you cry, angel. Makes daddy’s cock so fucking hard.” he said, leaning over you and pressing his cock against your ass, letting you feel just how hard you made him. You almost choked on a sob as you tried to speak.

“Please, Eddie. I’ll be a good girl for you. Oh fuck, please, daddy. Just wanna be good for you. Wanna feel your cock filling me up, daddy. Please, I’m begging you, fuck me!” you begged, tears continually streaming down your cheeks while you arched your back in invitation. He chuckled behind you.

“Crying AND begging? Oh, princess, you’re such a good little girl for me. Turn over and spread your legs, baby.” He said, sitting back, allowing you to turn over on your back. You hissed at the sensation of the sheets rubbing your raw ass where he’d spanked you, but you did as he asked and spread your legs wide for him.

“You gonna fuck me now, Eddie?” you asked, reaching a hand up to your face to wipe away a stray tear off your cheek. He smirked down at you.

“Only if you promise to scream my name, Y/N. My name… not Joe’s. ‘Eddie’ should be the only name coming out of your mouth, do you hear me?”

You quickly nodded your head but that wasn’t enough. He shook his head and almost looked mad.

“Y/N…” he warned, his voice dropping down to a growl. “Do you hear me? My name only.”

“Yes, Eddie. Your name only.” you agreed quickly. You reached your arms out towards him, making grabby hands so he’d finally hover over you. He dropped the stern look and replaced it with a smile, moving to hover over you and pressing gently pressing his lips against yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him still so you could kiss him harder. He chuckled against your lips at your enthusiasm.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you, princess.” he warned, pulling back far enough so he could look at your face. “I’m gonna fuck you. Hard. I don’t know how your boyfriend fucks you, but I can garuntee that you won’t be able to walk when I’m done with you. You ready for that, baby girl?”

“Eddie, please!” you whined, your hands cupping his face, forcing him to look in your eyes. “I want this… I need this. I need you to fucking wreck me. Please, baby!”

You could feel his cock twitch against your hip at your words. You rolled your hips against him, encouraging him to finally take the plunge and fuck you senseless. And thankfully it worked.

He reached down, positioning his cock at your entrance and teasing you by slowly prodding his tip against your aching hole but never pushing in. He could feel you clenching around his tip, trying to pull him inside you. Your whines echoed throughout the room as your hands gripped at the sheets while you arched your hips in an attempt to get more friction. You knew you sounded pitiful, but you knew he was loving every second of it by the smirk on his face.

“Here ya go, princess.” he grunted, slowly pushing his length inside you. “Take daddy’s cock like a good girl. Oh my god.”

“Eddie!” you gasped, your hands moving back up to clutch tightly at his shoulders. You were sure there would be little crescent shaped nail indents but you could care less. Your voice sounded weak as you whined pitifully. “More, daddy!”

He smiled at your begging, but only gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size before pulling almost all the way out before forcefully slamming his hips against yours. You almost screamed, the pain mixed with pleasure being too intense. You could feel your nails beginning to break skin on his shoulders and you briefly wondered if you’d drawn blood. But you didn’t have time to think about it because he quickly did it again, pulling out before slamming back inside you. His pace picked up, his hips repeatedly slapping against yours while your eyes rolled back every time his cock brushed against your g-spot.

“You feel so fucking good, baby. So damn tight around my dick. Scream my name, baby girl, so everyone knows who’s fucking you this good! Do it!”

“Eddie! F-f-fuck, Eddie… Oh god!”

“That’s right, angel. Oh fuck, your pussy feels like heaven! So fucking wet!” he groaned, leaning down to nip at your neck while he pounded you into the mattress. Your breasts bounced hard with his thrusts, making his cock twitch inside you as he watched. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him for dear life while he fucked you the way he promised to. He said he would fuck you hard and damn if he wasn’t living up to that promise. But you had a better idea.

“Eddie, stop. Baby, stop for a second.” you whimpered in his ear. He stopped thrusting and pulled back and looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. For a brief moment he was no longer Eddie, Joseph's typical features taking over as his eyes scanned your face for anything wrong. Before he could talk and break character, you continued. “I’m fine, baby. I promise. But I kind of have a request.”

“And what would that be?” he said, still sounding confused but the American accent stayed.

“Can I ride you?” you asked, batting your lashes at him and biting your bottom lip in an attempt to look innocent. He broke out into a huge grin before pulling out of you and laying down on his back next to you.

“Climb on up if you think you can handle it, baby.” he said, gesturing to his hard cock that was slick with your juices.

You quickly straddled his hips, sliding your pussy over the length of his cock before slowly sinking down. He felt deeper in this position, making your eyes flutter at the feeling of his leaking tip kissing your cervix.

“So deep, Eddie.” you moaned, beginning to rock your hips as you adjusted to the feeling. His moans echoed off the walls as you began to move faster, bouncing in his lap.

His hands moved to grasp at your hips, helping you bounce faster. You had to brace your hands on his chest to keep from falling over. The feeling of his hard cock slipping easily in and out of you had you whimpering loudly, making him smirk up at you. You wanted to knock that smirk of his face so badly. Smiling to yourself you clenched hard around him on purpose while you continued to fuck yourself on his cock.

“Jesus, fuck! Y/N, baby, are you trying to kill me?” he groaned, his nails scratching hard down the front of your thighs as he tried to regain his composure.

“Don’t die on me yet, big boy. I wanna cum on your cock. Wanna feel you cum inside me.” you moaned, moving your hips faster, feeling the familiar warmth begin to spread.

“Mmmm baby girl, I can feel your close. I can feel your pussy clenching me so damn tight. I’m right there with you, baby.”

You kept up your pace as his nails continued to dig into the fleshy meat of your thighs and hips, never staying in one spot for too long. Your breathing was labored and you were finding it harder and harder to catch your breath as you rocked your clit continuously against the coarse hair at the base of his cock. Your eyes watered slightly and the warmth in your belly spread and the coil wound itself tighter and tighter, threatening to burst.

“Eddie! Mmm oh god, baby, I’m gonna cum. Can I cum, daddy?” you begged, staring down into his eyes.

“Yes, sweet girl, cum for me! Oh fuck!” he groaned, tensing up below you. You could feel his warm seed coating your walls, causing you to tumble over the edge with him. You collapsed on top of him as your cunt contracted hard around his length, milking him for every drop while your body shook with the intensity of your orgasm. Your whimpers and moans came out broken as you tried to catch your breath.

The feeling of his hands rubbing gently up and down your back, his fingers gently skimming over your sweat slicked skin, slowly brought you back to reality. You slowly glanced up to see him already looking down at you, a wide smile on his face. You leaned up and pressed your lips against his, barely moving, just savoring each other's lips for the moment.

When your lips separated from his you reluctantly slid off of his cock and rolled on to your back, still breathing heavily. He chuckled at your fucked out state.

“I’ll be right back, baby.” he said. You could barely nod your head in acknowledgement to what he’d said.

Your eyes had fluttered closed as your racing heart slowed back down to a normal pace. You didn’t know how much time had passed when he’d finally returned to bed with a warm, damp cloth, gently cleaning the insides of your thighs. You hissed slightly as he ran the cloth over your puffy, sensitive lips.

“Easy, darling. It’s just me.” came the British voice of your boyfriend.

Your eyes snapped open, revealing your boyfriend. No more wig, no more rings. He’d even scrubbed off all the fake tattoos. You smiled at him and slowly reached for him. He put the cloth to the side and laid down next to you, enjoying how you instantly curled into his side, your head resting on his chest.

“I love you, Joseph.” you mumbled, tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

“I love you too. Get some sleep, darling. I can tell you’re exhausted. I think Eddie wore you out.” he said, chuckling a bit to himself.

“Hush…. But you’re right. I’m so tired. Eddie did wear me out.” you said, yawning at the end. “But I prefer my boyfriend… just so you know.” you said, craning your neck to look at him.

“Good to know. Now get some sleep, lovey.” he said, kissing the top of your head and nuzzling his face into your hair. You sighed as you let your eyes flutter shut once more, inhaling in the scent of your boyfriend. This was your happy place and you never wanted to leave.

#Joseph Quinn #Eddie Munson #smut #Eddie Munson smut #Joseph Quinn smut #stranger things #stranger things smut #Joe Quinn #Joe Quinn smut

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pastanest · 2 months

Text

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #imagine #imagines #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #spencer reid headcannon #spencer reid imagines

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fiapartridge · 3 months

Note

gabe perreault imagine please 🙏🙏

long time coming | gabe perreault 💌🌊⭐️

gabe perreault x fem!reader

summary: you're sick and the only person who can cure you is your best friend, gabe!

warning(s): fluff, fluff, fluff

author's note: eee this is my first gabe fic! thank u anon for suggesting him, i was in a huge writers slump so ty ty ty! enjoy!

You had heard stories of people falling in love with their best friend; it happened to your parents, your older sister and her boyfriend, all of your cousins, but to you, love just felt unattainable, like maybe you were the exception. The love bug skipped a generation and was already preparing for the next—but now? Now you felt it. You felt it crawl underneath your skin and bubble in your stomach. You felt your chest tighten and the heat rise to your cheeks.

You were in love, true love.

“Gabe,” you groaned over the phone, his breathing sounding staticy over the line. You had been sick for a few days, only a slight cough and an itchy throat, but today felt 10 times worse. Your stomach was aching, your head felt like it was getting hit by a basketball every couple of seconds, and you sniffled so frequently you were sure that something was going to go up the wrong pipe and straight up to your brain.

And you felt bad, not only because of your illness, but because it was nearly 2 AM and you could hear Gabe shuffle underneath his dark blue sheets in the dorm he shared with his best friend, Will Smith. You knew it was late and this was wrong. I mean, the boy had a game against Boston University in the morning, now was not the time to wake him, but you just didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were dying and all you needed was one of Gabe’s famous hugs and maybe a back rub (he was really good at those).

“Hey,” he said quietly, trying not to wake the snoring Will on the other side of the room. His eyes were fighting to stay open, determined not to lean onto his fluffy white pillow and fall back to sleep. “You okay?”

You sniffled, grabbing another tissue from the box that laid beside your bed. “I feel like I’m dying,” you responded, your voice sounding congested and nasally—not in the slightest like your normal tone.

You could hear shuffling on the other side of the phone. Then, you could hear keys jangling and his closet door opening, a hoodie getting thrown over his body, and then the door to his dorm being pulled open. You wanted to protest because you knew what he was doing, where he was going, but you had no energy to speak. Instead, your stubborn voice turned to loud coughs that made Gabe want to pull you in his arms and hold you until they faded into oblivion.

But he couldn’t. It was too much for you. It would be weird. You wouldn’t feel the same. It was the exact same thing he’s been telling himself for months (really what he’s been telling himself since the moment he met you). It would ruin your guys’ friendship and you will never want to speak to him again. If only he could hear your thoughts because then, maybe he’d be thinking differently, and it wouldn’t be so hard.

Three soft knocks on the door of your dorm signaled exactly what you suspected would happen. Gabe was your best friend and if he caught the flu, you would be there holding his hand and making him a bowl of chicken noodle soup. If you were crying about a failed test, he would buy you ice cream and agree to watch countless episodes of The Bachelor until you were feeling okay again. One time you were sick with Covid and Gabe didn’t even care. He stayed with you during quarantine, snuggled under mountains of blankets, watching movies until you were sick of them, and gossiping about anyone and anything. It wasn’t a surprise that he caught the sickness a couple days later. Your moms laughed about the memory, finding it endearing that you two loved each other so much that you were willing to be sick together.

Gabe settled some medicine on your bedside table before lifting your light pink covers and crawling into bed with you. You fit perfectly into his arms, like this spot was made just for you. Despite your sweaty forehead and aching body, he held you tightly, placing small kisses on the crown of your head. Your parents had always joked about you two getting married someday, but sometimes you wished that it was real; that you would grow old with him and live in a big white house with a white picket fence and a large rose garden in the backyard. You truly couldn’t see your life with anyone else.

But that was silly. Gabe was your best friend. That would just be weird—right?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. He walked all the way from his building to yours in the middle of the night despite having a ginormous game tomorrow. He felt unreal, like how could a person be so perfect and somehow be yours?

“Don’t be,” his words were just as soft. His chin resting on the top of your head as yours fit in the space between his neck and shoulder, leaving delicate kisses on his adams apple. This isn’t what best friends do, you told yourself. Best friends don’t kiss each other. Best friends don’t cuddle underneath sheets and hold hands to “warm each other up.” It was confusing and you hated it. You hated not knowing how he was feeling when you knew exactly how you felt about Gabe.

“You didn’t have to come here.”

“You called.”

You laughed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You could’ve stayed in bed and slept longer and had good dreams and—”

“Hey,” he smiled down softly at you, lifting your chin to look up at him. His hand lingered there for a while, not wanting to move away from you. There was something about you that made Gabe want to be closer and closer. There was something that made him want to parade you around campus, telling everyone that you were his. He wanted to see you in his jersey and kiss you after games and hold you tight at parties. He wanted to take you with him to New York when he plays for the Rangers after college and introduce you to his family as his girlfriend instead of just his best friend. Gabe was ready for more, but he hated thinking that you might not be. “I wasn’t just going to let you die, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, like that one time you pushed me down that water slide at Hurricane Harbor.”

“Pft, you wanted to go down that.”

You chuckled incredulously. “There is no way you just said that.”

“‘Oh, Gabe, please take me on this waterslide. I’ve been dying to go with you.’”

“I don’t sound like that.”

He grinned. “Yeah, you sound like this,” he said, pinching his nose with his fingers, his voice sounding blocked and nasally.

You pushed his hands away, hiding your face in his clothed chest. “Shut up.”

“C’mon, you love it.”

“I will fight you.”

He ran his hand up and down your arm, your eyes fluttering closed and your breathing steadying. He held you tighter, wrapping both arms around you and snuggling deeper into the bed. His last words before you fell into hypnosis lingered in your mind as you couldn’t even escape your lovestruck dreams of the perfect boy. “Keep telling yourself that, sicko.”

By the time the sun rose, you were sure that he would be gone; that his hoodie would be collected from the carpet, that his legs would no longer be intertwined with yours, and that his belongings would be gone, but he was still there and you were still in his arms and everything was still perfect. His breathing was soft and slow, his little curls were a bit tussled, his cheeks were pale, and you wondered what he was dreaming about that left a ghost of a smile on his face.

You wanted to wake up like this everyday and everyday after that. So yeah, maybe you were in love. Maybe you were in deep. And maybe you were ready to tell him.

He rustled around before lifting his eyes open, his smile growing wider when he saw your pink face, knowing he caught you staring at him as you glanced around the room, trying not to make eye contact with the boy.

“Feeling better?” he asked, turning to his side and facing you.

A strand slipped through your loose ponytail and settled on the front of your face, covering your eyes as he allowed his hands to work faster than his mind. He slowly brought his hand up, carefully moving the strand behind your ear. And you would expect the moment to be over but when his hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb lightly running over the smooth skin of your face, you knew that maybe just maybe there could be something more.

You nodded slowly. “I’m okay.”

“I’m glad. I hate seeing my girl sick,” he spoke softly as if speaking any louder would shatter the calming atmosphere.

My girl. You wanted to allow your mind to toss and turn, investigate the meaning behind those two words, search for his thought-process, his feelings, anything, but for the first time in forever, you felt serene and calm with him. You didn’t feel the need to wonder what this meant for the two of you. You were perfectly content where you were now, where you were going, and what you were going to do next.

You placed your hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast yet gentle. His eyes wandered down to your place of connection and when they met yours again, you could’ve sworn you saw something: a spark, hope, clarity, confirmation.

And when he leaned in, holding your face close with the hand still resting on your cheek, his lips hovering over yours, desperate to connect, you knew nothing would be the same. He would never be just your best friend anymore. And you were perfectly okay with that.

As Gabe leaned in, his lips met yours in a tender, yet passionate kiss. It was a moment that felt suspended in time, where every sensation was heightened—the warmth of his touch, the softness of his lips, the racing of your heart. In that instant, all doubts melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of certainty and bliss.

The kiss deepened, as if both of you were pouring all the unspoken feelings and desires into this one act. Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as you pulled him closer, wanting to feel every part of him against you. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as if he never wanted to let go.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the outside world fading into insignificance. When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, you found yourselves gazing into each other's eyes, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. But there was no fear, no uncertainty, only a profound sense of connection and joy.

“I’m sick,” you said, making Gabe chuckle softly. Of course your first words after a long-anticipated kiss would be that. But that’s what Gabe loved about you. You were you in every sense of the word. You are the reason his stomach hurts from laughing every time he comes back to his dorm, staring into space as he thinks about your giggle and your smile and your stupid humor. You are everything. You’re the world.

I just kissed the world, Gabe thought. My girl.

With a smile that spoke volumes, Gabe whispered, "I don’t care."

“You will when you get sick.”

“And will you be here? When I get sick?” he asked, his thumb running back and forth on the exposed space of skin on your pelvis.

You nodded. You would be there for him through anything no matter what. “Always.”

“Then I’m okay with it.”

And in that moment, as you nestled into his embrace once more, you knew that the stories were real and true; that love is real and true, because you just fell in it and you couldn’t be happier.

#gabe perreault #boston college #boston college hockey #gabe perreault x reader #gabe perreault imagines #gabe perreault imagine #gabe perreault fluff

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heavyhitterheaux · 6 months

Text

Soft Launch

Requested by the cutie @jackslilsecrett 😘

AN: 🥰🥰

Synopsis: You're in the music industry and have been secretly dating Jack for close to a year. Now he wants to let the world know about you and how amazing his girlfriend is

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader

Jack Harlow Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

“Jack, will you stop it?!” You annoyingly asked your boyfriend of ten months who was currently drumming on your ass and making beats as you were trying to look over a script for a new movie that you would be starring in. Shooting wouldn’t begin for a while, but your manager thought that the role would be perfect for you.

“I’m bored. Are you almost done?!”

“Baby, I literally just started reading this ten minutes ago. I am nowhere near done.”

“Well, how much longer?” Jack whined while continuing to make beats, but soon stopped and just laid his head on you.

“I’m not sure, I don’t want to give you a specific time and then if I’m not done, you’ll blow a fuse.”

“I haven’t seen you in almost a damn month so yeah I’m about to blow a fuse. And I thought we both agreed not to do anything work related today?”

“I know but…”

All you did was look at him since he was now pouting and put the script face down on the dresser to give him your undivided attention.

“You are such a big baby.” You breathed out as you flipped over and opened your arms wide for him to come closer to you.

“Only yours though, so don’t get it twisted.” He answered as he laid his head on your chest and you began to play in his curls.

“Oh, I wanted to tell you something.”

“Of course, I’m all ears.” You replied while grabbing the remote to the television and turning it on Hulu to catch the latest episode of the Goosebumps reboot. You had been fascinated with the stories ever since you were a child and was excited to see them come to life on the screen.

“I’m having my Halloween party this year on the Saturday before it. You aren’t doing anything that weekend, right?”

“No, I should be free.” You answered while looking down at Jack who looked as if he wanted to say something else.

“Babe? Is there something else?”

“Um, what if we went together? To the party I mean?”

“Like…. As a couple?”

“Well, yeah. We are actually a couple so why not? I mean no one really knows about us besides like two people. But if you’re not ready, then that’s okay. It was just a thought I had. I want to be able to show my girl off to the world.”

You were quiet for a few minutes, going over different scenarios in your head when Jack looked at you curiously knowing that you were deep in thought.

“Baby?”

“I’m just thinking, that’s all. It’s just… if we do this we can’t take it back.”

“True.”

“And I liked having you all to myself.”

“And you’ll still have me to yourself. I’m not going anywhere, I’m yours and you’re mine.” He answered as he reached up to kiss you.

“Let’s do it then.”

Liked by y/nthesongstress, lilnasx, druski2funny, mariahthescientist, theshaderoom, and 2,171,937 others

jackharlow: Harloween '23

lilnasx: SOFT LAUNCH ANYONE?! ABOUT DAMN TIME! y/nthesongstressupdates: oh. this is interesting..... druski2funny: sooooo..... when she's not singing, jack is clapping her cheeks. confirmed. mariahthescientist: DRUSKI, PLEASE urbanwyatt: 👀👀👀👀 jackharlowsource: THESE HALLOWEEN COSTUMES ATE! sza: OKAY WOLVERINE AND STORM! COME THRUUUUUUU druski2funny: now jack and y/n see us up here in this comment section and just want to ignore us. ARE YALL TOGETHER OR NOT? urbanwyatt spill it since you know everything mariahthescientist: and the winner for best halloween costume is!!!! urbanwyatt: druski2funny what makes you think I know?!?! druski2funny: urbanwyatt don't ask dumb questions, give us the details urbanwyatt: ask them yourself druski2funny!

jackharlowdaily: so no one saw this coming from a mile away? they've been dropping hints for a while lol lilnasx: I'll stay quiet for now, but give me my credit where credit is due! jackharlowsource: Nas knows something and he needs to spill it and spill it NOW y/nthesongstress: jackharlow damn, we kinda ate this pic huh? jackharlow: y/nthesongstress you always make me look good 😏 y/nthesongstressupdates: well how long has she been making you look good for jackman? don't leave us hanging!

y/nthesongstress added to their story

Liked by jackharlow, lilnasx, reginaecarter, snohaalegra, hollywoodunlocked, urbanwyatt, druski2funny, and 2,183,394 others

y/nthesongstress: you can't get this thickness outta your mind 😜

jackharlow: definitely can't and I'm going to need my own private show 😍 lilnasx: yall nasty smh victoriamonet: jack has always been a groupie for y/n lol y/nthesongstressupdates: okay so we need details! how did yall meet? how long have yall been together? is it really as big as they say it is? jackharlowsource: y/nthesongstressupdates asking the real questions over here lol y/nthesongstress: lilnasx shouldn't have introduced us to each other then lol dojacat: damn mamas 😍😍😍😍 lilnasx: now I'm just the third wheel in that relationship. jackharlow I thought that it was me and you until the end of time? jackharlow: lilnasx and then y/n came along lol and you got pushed to the side urbanwyatt: lilnasx don't feel bad, he's forgotten about me too jackharlow: urbanwyatt LIES we just went to dinner LAST NIGHT urbanwyatt: jackharlow and you facetimed y/n for more than half of it y/nthesongstress: urbanwyatt omg Urby, I'll make it up to you, promise! I just wanted company on my ride home from the studio urbanwyatt: y/nthesongstress just buy me weed and we can call it even

Liked by jackharlow, yungmiami, lilnasx, urbanwyatt, justjared, hollywoodunlocked, mariahthescientist, and 721,273 others

y/nthesongstressupdates: I guess they've been dropping hints for a minute 😭

jackharlowsource: I just think it's so cute how lilnasx introduced them. him and y/n have been friends forever jackharlowdaily: come to think of it, any public event or award show they would always be sitting near each other lol lilnasx: and also making googly eyes at each other and making me sick smh y/nthesongstress: lilnasx you love it so shut up. I'll make sure you don't catch the bouquet with that attitude. mariahthescientist: I'm making sure that I'm going to be the one to catch it jackharlow: he's just jealous because I stopped making googly eyes at him and started looking at y/n druski2funny: y/n would have been better off dating me y/nthesongstress: now druski..... don't make me hurt your feelings urbanwyatt: lmaoooooo druski2funny: we could have done amazing things together y/n jackharlow: druski2funny don't make me kick your ass lilnasx: y/nthesongstress mani pedi date and it's your turn to pay jackharlow: oohhh mani pedi? count me in! lilnasx: andddd third wheeling again 😭

Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, quiiso, generationnow, champagnepapi,lilnasx, 2forwoyne, and 3,284,732 others

y/nthesongstress: I got the cutest dinner date 😍

druski2funny: I mean he's okay, he not alladat 🙃 lilnasx: and here his hating ass goes jackharlow: druski2funny will you give it up already?!? druski2funny: *insert bugs bunny meme* NO jackharlow: anyway 🙄 jackharlow: y/nthesongstress as long as I get to have you for dessert teyanataylor: can the two of you not keep your hands off each other for five minutes? jackharlow: teyanataylor no y/nthesongstress: teyanataylor no 2forwoyne: make sure yall bring me back any leftovers urbanwyatt: 2forwoyne I already called dibs, get in line y/nthesongstress: does yall best friend not feed yall? 2forwoyne: no urbanwyatt: no quiiso: no shloob_: no yungskylark: no jackharlow: now why are all of yall up here lying? 2forwoyne: y/nthesongstress your boyfriend hasn't fed me since the beginning of the CHTKMY tour jackharlow: 2forwoyne NOW....... y/nthesongstress: 😭😭😭😭😭

Liked by y/nthesongstress, dojacat, victoriamonet, urbanwyatt, glorillapimp, and 3,293,786 others

jackharlow: mesmerized every time I watch her. On and off the stage 😜

lilnasx: just like I said, NASTY. But my girl ATE though! get it baby! y/nthesongstressupdates: imma need her to sit on me jackharlow: me first y/nthesongstress: jackharlow you need to behave lol can't take you anywhere urbanwyatt: y/nthesongstress it's only going to get worse from here on out, I can feel it. it all started with him forgetting to feed us jackharlow: urbanwyatt yall are grown ass adults who can feed yourselves! and y/nthesongstress it's not my fault that you look so good all the time y/nthesongstress: urbanwyatt don't worry urby, I got your back. all of you can come over for dinner tonight and jack is paying jackharlow: WHAAAAT?! we were supposed to have a night in with JUST US 2forwoyne: pulling up in an hour yungskylark: someone come get me! jackharlow: not her volunteering me to feed the entire Kentucky army jackharlowsource: NOT HIM CALLING THEM THE KENTUCKY ARMY jackharlow: not about to have any food in my house smh y/nthesongstress: jackharlow oh, but you'll have plenty of food baby 😏😉 urbanwyatt: I..... please not in front of my salad jackharlow: y/nthesongstress OH, well I'm ready and urbanwyatt seriously? lilnasx: all I know is that I better be the first one to get a wedding invite and I want it hand delivered to me for putting up with all this lovey dovey shit

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spiral-man · 2 months

Text

Hey! You! The gay people in my computer! Yah you! I just need you to listen to me for like five minutes (I’m either a genius or all the hair dye is finally seeping into my brain). With every new episode that comes out more and more theory’s are made and a lot of them I’ve noticed point towards all the different ominous things the characters say or do and what that could possibly mean. Most often though they lead to the implication of the character being not totally human. And I mean that’s what it’s all about right?

The Magnus Archives is about what makes a monster and the Magnus protocol is about what makes a human.

There’s also been a-lot of talk comparing the two podcasts:

•the intro music being more intense right off the bat in this one

•placing a lot of emphasis on the fact that the employees can leave whenever they want

At first i thought maybe the plot was just moving faster this time around but it’s not that, it’s moving backwards I think.

•Starting with the employee quitting vs ending with Jon and Martin ‘quitting’.

•Starting showing us how the computer just spits out cases whenever and you can’t stop it vs near the end when Jon couldn’t help himself from making a statement either.

Everyone in the Magnus Archives was human at one point or another, I think everyone in the Magnus protocol was a monster at one point or another.

Jonny sims is really good at plot twists and I think this would be honestly genius. I mean, think about it, don’t think about the Magnus archives, don’t think about the characters past or future, detach yourself from the eye and just look at these characters as they are, right in the moment.

“Oh that’s an ominous thing to say”

“oh that sounds like foreshadowing”

“oh that’s a weird way to say that”

how many times about how many characters do we have those thoughts? We’re only 6 episodes in and I can’t even count the amount of times I’ve thought something one of the characters said was a bit odd. A couple times is normal but especially this early on into a series it shouldn’t be so obvious, it’s to easy. We the fans latch onto these little bits of dialogue and theorize them to death and then move on to the next one and do the same thing all over again, connecting them like the web in the Magnus archives.

But this isn’t the Magnus archives.

Jonny sims once said writing the Magnus archives had to be a balancing act because he had to make sure that the timing of it made sense for people listening as it came out as well as people binging it way after it came out, there was only one safe house episode partly because he didn’t want fans listening as it came out to get bored since it would feel alot longer then It would for people binging it later. I think because this is following the Magnus archives there is a new element of it starting off with a pretty large fan base and because of that Jonny can bank on the fact that more people will be listening as the episodes come out and so we will be less likely to realize how often these strange lines are occurring and how easy it feels.

I think everyone in the Magnus protocol is only pretending to be human, doing a poor imitation which just gets worse with time like how the quality of a printed image will go down which each new copy you make. They remind me of the Not!Them, or the distortion, pretending to be someone/something your not and doing it so well it’s almost an exact copy….but not completely, some things are just slightly off, some things make you look twice and wonder.

None of them are human, not completely.

……..

(Not yet?)

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gavisuntiedboot · 10 months

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Whenever you have the time could you write about Gavi with a gf that is a bit reserved and touch starved, her love language is physical touch but she doesn't initiate it with Gavi because her ex always told her she is clingy and annoying so she's insecure about it, so Gavi tries to show her it's okay by always cuddling her, or touching her in any way. And then over time she starts to initiate the cuddling/touching and Gavi is so proud and happy because she finally feels comfortable with him

Your writing is amazing btw, I've decided to wait for you to finish Just Pretend completely to continue reading it because whenever I finish the last chapter you post I get so sad because the next one isn't out yet and I can't live in the agony of not knowing what happens next

Pls hold my hand

"Princess, why do you have a sweatshirt that says ‘clingy’ on it?”

You looked over to Gavi, who plopped himself down on the couch next to you, grabbing the remote to cue the Netflix show the two of you had been watching for the last several weeks, eager to finally watch another episode, as the two of you held your shared series’ to a sacred standard. With only two episodes left of the latest “Drive to Survive”, you didn’t want to delay the experience with too much conversation.

"Just and inside joke between me and my friends.” You said, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the bag of m&m’s in front of you.

“Your friends think you’re clingy?” He asked, turning to face you as his hoodie slipped from his head, messy brown locks on full display. One of the things you adored about Pablo was how much he was always trying to protect you and look out for you. You weren’t really be confrontational, and this lead to some mistreatment and being pushed over at times by those close to you. Well, you used to. Since you and Pablo started dating about 8 months ago, he had been there to defend you against people who wanted to take advantage, and often was the voice reminding you to stick up for yourself.

“No no, it’s not them. It’s … something to do with my ex boyfriend. Do you still want to know?”

Gavi tensed at this. Despite you never saying anything explicitly negative about your boyfriend, all the stories Gavi heard made him hate the man with a burning passion. He had slowly but surely messed you up in so many ways, and now as Pablo worked to slowly unravel the knots tightened around your heart, he couldn’t help but curse the man that tied them to begin with.

“Yeah. You can tell me.”

You shifted in your seat, rather uncomfortable with the topic, but not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

“Well, remember that little love languages quiz I made you do? Well I did mine like years ago, and I got physical touch. Which makes sense right because that’s one of yours and we seem to be getting along pretty well.” Gavi giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and causing you to tense.

“Well, my last boyfriend wasn’t super into like… touching? Fuck that sounds sexual. I mean he didn’t really like being touched or cuddling or all that couple stuff. Didn’t like holding hands either. And like this one time, he was watching something on his computer and I was feeling bold or whatever and tried to sit on his lap — he hated that though. He liked pushed me onto the floor and told me to stop being clingy.” You forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and soften the look of horror that had occupied Gavi’s face.

“That was actually why I broke up with him. Anyways I didn’t hug any of my friends for a month after that, and when they finally confronted me and I told them why, they got this made me for me. See, look at the sleeve,” you said, stretching out your arm to show him the ‘pls hold my hand’ embroidered on the sleeve. “So now whenever I’m in my clingy sweatshirt, my friends give me a ton of hugs and stuff. It’s funny. I think.” You say, winching slightly by the fact that Pablo’s eyebrows are still pushed together in anger.

He muttered his grievances about your boyfriend while cuddling closer to you, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks warmed as they were pressed against Gavi’s beating heart. Despite the long time you had been dating Pablo, you still were shy when it came to initiating any sort of affection. You were too scared of annoying him and pushing him further away. So you remained shy and reserved, only responding to the touches he initiated.

“Give me your hand, silly. Never been with a girl who came with instructions before. Maybe I should get you a pair of panties that say-“ his sentence abruptly ended with a pillow to the face. You giggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he just pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you now.

“Oh no no princesa. You’re not going anywhere. Now hush and make mean comments about Verstappen with me.”

Over the next few weeks, Pablo had made an active effort to make you more comfortable with being physical with him. Whenever the two of you were out, he held your hand or had you two link arms. He hugged you and kissed you on the cheek or forehead, asking, “you don’t want to give me a kiss back, Amor?” Puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on display, you coyly returned the peck to his jutted out lip. He smiled widely, teeth almost blinding you. He returned with an attack, kissing you across both cheeks, and ending with a searing kiss to the lips.

His favorite time was when you two watched shows together. He would always pull you in close, cuddling with you next to him on the couch. He would lean close and whisper his comments about the show into your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps as his breath famed over. He would press kisses into your temples, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, and reminding you how much he loved being around you.

“You’re so warm amor - my personal furnace. I love it.”

“Your skin is so soft, feels so nice.”

“I wish I never had to get up from beside you.”

After three weeks of hand holding, kisses, and encouragement, you finally found the confidence to approach Gavi to heal your touch starvation. You put on your clingy hoodie again, laying out snacks on the coffee table and firing up her Netflix.

“Princesa I’m here! Where are you?”

Running to the door, you wrapped both arms around Gavi’s neck, pulling him into you and greeting him with a firm kiss. As he recovered from the unexpected greeting, you informed him that you would be in the living room pulling up a new series. He followed closely after kicking off his shoes, and peeling off his Barca jacket, picking up the hoodie you had laid out for him.

“Did you change shampoos? Used to be peach and now it’s strawberry.”

“How could you tell?” You asked, grabbing some drinks as Pablo got comfy on the couch. He crossed his arms across his chest, legs spread and back slumped.

“My clothes smell different around the shoulders. That’s usually where your wet hair sits.” He looked over at you, watching your eyes go wide. “Amor, you know I love you, stop being surprised when I actually act like it. Now what are we watching?”

Taking a deep breath, you walked back over. You grabbed the remote, pressing play.

“The new season of Black Mirror is out and I’m dying to see it. Heard this one is creepier than normal.” As you explained, you walked over to Gavi. Before he could move to make space for you on the sofa, you draped yourself over his lap. Your legs were to his side, back pressed to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you laid your head on his shoulder. ‘Deep breaths it’s okay he’s not going to push you off.’

Pablo was stunned for a moment, so much so that he remained motionless. Once the shock wore off and he felt your slight tremble, he brought his muscled arms around you, pulling you tightly against him, soft lips pressing to your pulse point and freeing a soft gasp from your throat. He rested his head atop yours, the pressure and warmth comforting and familiar.

“Look at you being bold cariño. If I knew it would get you to sit in my lap we would’ve done this months ago.” You giggled softly in response, turning to face him. You rested your forehead against his, gazing deeply into the deep brown pools of his eyes. Leaning in, his lips eagerly met yours, refusing to release you. When you finally pulled away, you resumed your comfortable position in Pablo’s embrace. “I’m so proud of you, princesa.” The two of you fell into s comfortable silence, enjoying the show, squeezing each other tighter whenever things got intense.

“Can I get a matching clingy hoodie for whenever I want cuddles?” Pablo asked, smiling at you from above.

“I don’t think so, Pablito. You would never take it off.”

~~~

Guys I have the worst headacheeeeee but yay I posted!

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