#use of yn

[allistars-light]

Childe: So… I’ve seen you’ve been spending a lot of time with Arlecchino recently.

Y/N: No, Childe , it's not what it looks like, I swear.

Childe: Oh really? So no reason for me to be jealous?

Y/N: No! You’re the only one for me.

Childe: Is that so?

Y/N: I promise! Arlecchino and I are just dating, okay? They’re my partner.

Childe: So there are no best-friends-feelings involved?

Y/N: You are still my one and only best friend! They’re just the love of my life, nothing more!

Childe: But I’m still the platonic love of your life, right?

Y/N: Of course, bro!

Childe: Bro...

Arlecchino: What the-

#arlecchino x reader #ajax #childe #arlecchino #use of yn #incorrect quotes #well this is confusing

[legitalicat]

Sweet Sister (Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon)

AN: Oh gosh guys. I did it. Thank you to @zaldritzosrose for being my workshop partner (I also got the amazing dividers from her) and to my spiritual twin @foxyanon for reading a bit of it when I needed to make sure it was okay. Also this snowballed very hard very fast I am sorry.

Masterlist here!

Summary: It wasn't the fault of them that this was their lot in life. Aemond and YN could only make the best of a marriage they did not particularly want. Yet Jacaerys does not see it as an obstacle. The gods made her for him. She was meant to be his.

TW: Language, characters are over 18, AFAB reader, use of YN in 3rd person pov, use of she/her pronouns, SMUT SMUT SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), a smidge of dry humping, lactation kink, tiddie sucking, masturbation, cuck!Aemond, threesome, Dom!Jacaerys, switch!Aemond (mostly veering on subbing), sub!reader, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, Jace's monster cock, NO DANCE, canon typical Targcest, Jace grinding his cock on Aemond, Jace cumming on Aemond, cum eating, spit, political marriage, Jace kinda teaching Aemond to proper fuck his wife, I think that's all

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon Niece!Reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x younger sister!Reader

Word count: 6.2k

It wasn’t his fault.

It was a thought that lived consistently in her mind in the years since her marriage. Both of them offered to each other’s mother as a solution to the growing rift between them. A marriage made in desperate hopes to avoid an ever looming annihilation.

It was good, she supposed, that it was to a man she was so familiar with. Her Uncle Aemond, while never particularly warm, had always been kind enough. He usually spared her the vitriol he shot at her brothers. Even when making it clear he knew the truth, he was less violent in his hatred. Queen Alicent raised him to be better than that.

A spat between boys here and there was acceptable, expected even. Training together, he got plenty of chance to beat on them, to spill the vile whispers that invaded his ears. Nobody but Ser Harwin ever said anything, but Aemond figured it was only because he was too stupid to pretend as everyone else did.

YN was different. Between his mother and Ser Criston, he knew that every woman was meant to be seen with a certain amount of respect. Despite who her father was, or wasn’t, YN was a princess. She was not like her brothers, who antagonized him at every step. And so he would hold his tongue.

As children, they were polite to each other. If he and the Velaryon boys were arguing, he went quiet when she would walk into the room. He would hold the door for her and in the same motion let it slam on Jacaerys.

It was this politeness that allowed Alicent to see reason. She couldn’t marry her only daughter to one of Rhaenyra’s sons, yet the King made it clear that it was his will their lines would converge. She made a counter offer to Rhaenyra’s, Aemond wed to YN. The Princess of Dragonstone denied for many the same reasons The Queen denied hers. But the Driftmark Incident all but forced her hand if she wished for Lucerys to remain unharmed as a consequence.

He was a good husband to her when they married not long after her coming of age. He stood by her side at court, always keeping her close. Over the moons they spent at each other’s side, a natural affection was felt between them. It may not have been a fairytale romance, but he at least could be counted as her friend. And for a girl who was without her family for the first time in her life, a friend was exactly what she needed.

It wasn’t Aemond’s fault that they were still expected to provide children to their line. They held off as long they could. Yet as they approached two years of marriage, rumors of infertility started hanging over their head. He could not bare to leave his wife to such scrutiny. It was only then they started laying together as husband and wife.

The affection they felt gave a solid foundation for their relationship in the bedroom. It was an awkward beginning in which he would blush every time his hand grazed her breasts and a small squeak would leave her lips when she saw him naked. Aemond, though, was a man of proficiency. He always planned to be the best in everything, the need in him increasing tenfold upon learning that bringing his wife to orgasm increased her odds of becoming pregnant.

“You looked lovely tonight at dinner,” he commented as they came from dinner.

“Thank you, husband. Your words flatter me always,” she told him.

He opened the door to their suite, the warmth of the fire already having filled the living space. When the door closed behind them, she let out a noticeable breath of relief. She always preferred the peace of their suite.

He stepped closer and began to unlace her gown. She reached behind her as he did so and took a hold of one of his wrists.

“Are you nervous?” he whispered. She hadn’t been nervous with him in months, but he always asked.

“Grateful, I suppose. For a husband like you,” she told him. Her dress fell to the ground in a pool around her ankles. She had forgone her slip and so she now stood naked in front of him. “I must admit though, today I am eager. I feel as though soon I shall be pregnant.”

He gave a small smile even though she could not see him. “A darling mother you shall be. How many do you wish us to have?”

“No less than two,” she told him. “So I hope you do not mind continuing this for a few years yet to come.”

“Never, my sweet niece. After all, I do still enjoy myself as a man should when I bed you.”

Satisfied, she released his wrist entirely so that he move as he wish. A feather light kiss to her shoulder as he began to undo his pants. A hand roaming the front of her body from behind, grabbing and squeezing to elicit soft little hums of approval from her. With his pants off, he stepped closer to her.

“Settee or bed?” he whispered in her ear, his hard cock pressing firmly against her ass.

“Settee,” she whispered while a shudder moved through her. Within a heartbeat, he lead her to the sofa near them.

“I want to make sure my seed takes in your womb, little wife,” he whispered in her ear before he helped her into position.

His touch traveled from her hip to entangle itself in her hair. She turned her face to him to allow a single kiss before he pushed her head roughly onto the settee’s cushion. Any sound she made was muffled by the cushion, but it was how they preferred.

The blood rush provided by his delicate fingers created as many desires in her as it sated. Any looks of love he would give her would be fake, they didn’t love each other. Yet when his nails raked against her back as he prepared to grab her hips, she knew she was lucky in this.

His left hand rested along the curve of her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh to hold her where he wanted her. His right hand moved between her thighs before finding their home in her folds.

The fabric where her mouth was pressed warmed against her skin as she let out small, repetitive moans. In the months since their first bedding, his fingers had become experts at a quick orgasm. He would flex his thumb to rest against her pearl with fluctuating pressures in time with the speed of his middle and ring fingers thrusting into her cunt.

Her thighs trembled as Aemond curled his fingers, coaxing her orgasm ever closer. A faint sound of her moaning made it to his ears as her walls tightened around the digits. She came hard, only getting a second’s reprieve before his hand moved away and it’s presence replaced by his long cock.

His hips repeatedly moving into her turned him into a desperate man. Watching himself disappear into her cunt while her ass melted against the muscles of his lower abdomen was a sight made of sin. She was soaked around him, her juices dripping off his cock.

Aemond was a restrained man until he was on the precipice of orgasm. It was when she felt his fingers return to her swollen pearl and his hips start to stutter that she cried out. She could feel him pawing at her back, his once anchoring grasp becoming a desperate touch. His movements were no longer careful and considered as he rubbed his thumb eagerly against her pearl and fucked into her with abandon. She could feel the tension begin to build within her as she whispered his name into the cushion again and again.

She came for a second time, squealing into the cushion as she attempted to move forward. The pleasurable band that had snapped inside her belly increased how much she felt tenfold. Every movement of his cock was like the sweetest torture. The head pushed against that spongy spot inside of her, making her whimper with every brush. Her walls gripped even tighter, like he was the missing piece of her.

He groaned out her name as he released his spend, ropes of white coating her walls. She was certain, as he pulled out of her while trying to steady his breath, that this was it. This would be their luck.

Within two moons she had confirmation she was pregnant. She wrote letters to her family immediately upon telling Aemond. Together, they would walk to Her Grace the Queen’s apartments and tell her she would once again become a grandmother. One would think they had divulged the secrets of the universe with the way the Queen became so overjoyed.

She was approaching her fifth month of pregnancy when her family returned to King’s Landing so that her mother could take the Throne. With the passing of King Viserys, many had anticipated war. But neither Rhaenyra or Alicent wanted to risk losing their grandchild. If war had broken out, both knew that the baby would be torn between the desires of both it’s parents. That was enough.

YN stood in wait for her family alone at the Dragon Pit. The peace was tense already, and they had yet to arrive. But one by one, the elder members of her family landed on their dragons in front of her.

A journey by ship would take too long when there was a throne to take. Her mother dismounted Syrax with grace befitting a queen. Her eyes though did not fix themselves to her mother, instead the new Prince of Dragonstone capturing her full attention.

“My sweet sister,” her older brother said once he dismounted Vermax.

Jacaerys looked at her like she was his favorite toy. Two years her elder and that had never changed. She was his little sister, the one he knew the gods crafted from the heavens specifically for him. It was everything he believed to be true. She was meant to be his Queen, to be his.

That is why he was never too worried about her betrothal to Aemond when it was announced. Jace knew he didn’t necessarily need to be her first husband. Men run away or die every day, leaving their families behind. Knowing his uncle meant knowing how perfect the one eyed man had to be. He anticipated Aemond running away the moment he proved to be subpar at being a husband.

And when he did inevitably run, when he did abandon his wife, all Jacaerys needed to do was be there. He had told YN her entire life how he adored her, how he would give her a crown and a throne and nobody would doubt his devotion to her. She would be his equal in every way once he was King. No marriage to some lesser standing man would change that.

“Jace,” she said with a smile on her face. She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He was sturdy, lean but firm. There was no sway in his body when she all but collided into him in her excitement, her small bump pressing against him. He held her just as close.

Even her pregnancy could not dissuade him from believing they were meant for each other. Jacaerys knew she would have children from this marriage, he had long prepared for that reality. But this child was as much of her as it was of Aemond, and he would love every part of his beloved sister.

“You are stunning, my queen. The babe is not too much trouble, I hope?” he asks when he pulls away. But only enough to look at her.

“Oh none at all. The little bug has only just began kicking,” she told him.

“I was more referring to your husband, but I am grateful your pregnancy has been easy thus far,” he told her with a smirk, creating a giggle she could not hold back.

His eyes look over her face more times than he can count. He had never seen a beauty such as hers. From the way her lips stretched as she smiled, to the little furrow in her brow as she watched him look at her, to the subtlety of her eyes shining with a joy he doubted she had for years. Everything about her captivated him.

As his eyes raked further down her body he was a man in love. Her breasts already were beginning to swell with milk, looking deliciously full and ripe for providing his pleasure. The bump was small, he knew she wasn’t too far along just yet, but seeing evidence of a child growing inside her was enough for him to feel like a man gone mad.

His cock began to swell under his trousers. He could not resist pulling her in for another hug just to be able to rut against her for a mere moment. It was subtle, discreet, one would be forgiven for thinking it was the embrace of a brother who missed his sister. She knew what he was doing. She could feel his bulge pressing through his skirts and against her heat.

“I have missed you dearly, my queen,” he whispered in her ear.

“I have missed you as well, my dear brother,” she whispered, hugging him tighter to her.

Pregnancy had a way of clouding her judgement. She desired more than just this juvenile attempt at some relief. And while it was true Aemond would tend to her when her hormones became too overwhelming, there was a difference. Aemond was her husband, the man she was legally bound to. He was the father of the babe cradled safely inside her. He was allowed.

Jace was her older brother. Adore him as she might, he had no true claim to her. They had risked enough the night before her wedding when he made her ride his thigh to orgasm. It was his way of ensuring she knew pleasure before he would get the chance to properly give it to her. But now, to even do this was a slap in the face to her husband and an affront to the gods.

He pulled away, completely this time, and smiled at her. “Your presence has been missed deeply, sweetling.”

And with no other words he stepped away and allowed a proper greeting between her and their mother.

With Rhaenyra’s coronation and subsequent restructuring of the Small Council, life remained hectic for months. Rhaenyra was smarter than her father as a ruler, she understood that the only thing that posed a threat to her rule was the ambitions of one man in particular. The best way to remove such a threat was to understand the ambition and give it only enough power to remain useful to her.

Her first act? Removing Otto Hightower as Hand. He was still on the Small Council as Master of Whisperers, as he was a man best kept close and an expert of intelligence. In his stead she placed Jacaerys until such a time he was married and would move to his seat of Dragonstone. It would give him opportunity to learn the workings of ruling the country that would once be his. As a way to create good faith between her and her brothers, she offered them positions as well. She would appoint Aemond as Master of Laws, as she doubted there were any who knew more of Westeros’ histories and laws as him. And for Aegon she created the position of Master of Celebrations, offering no further explanation before he accepted.

Being as her husband was preoccupied with his newfound duties, YN spent many nights alone. The babe, due in the next month by now, made her ache and weep. It was all she could do to avoid such pains. If it wasn’t her back or hips hurting, both from the weight of her stomach and the way her body prepared for labour, it was the way her breasts were already filling to the brim.

Her only comfort was found in her baths. The water ran so hot it would be uncomfortable for many. She had the blood of dragons coursing through her, she carried a dragon inside her. A little extra heat did nothing to dissuade her.

In fact, she was sitting on the bed, waiting for her maids to bring forth the water needed. Her hands massaged her aching breasts to attempt to provide any relief for her. As such, she was hardly covered by anything. Only a thin sheet laid draped over her lower half.

There was a knock on the door. She beckoned them inside, assuming it was her maids. Yet when she opened her eyes, there stood Jacaerys. Her eyes widened slightly, though she made no grand attempt to hide herself.

“My sweet, are you okay?” he asked her softly. His voice was filled with a love she had mostly forgotten.

“Pregnancy is hard on the body, at it turns out,” she joked as he came closer to her. It was then she pulled the sheet up further, now hiding her breasts.

“And your husband is not here to attend to you,” he commented. He sat in front of her on the bed and repositioned the sheet, exposing her breasts and pregnant belly to him.

“He does as he can. His duties have been weighing more as of late, though, so I am typically asleep by his finishing hour,” she told him.

“A dutiful wife. Never speaking ill of him,” he whispered.

“He has been good to me, Jace. He cares a great deal for my safety and happiness. Better to me than I believe many would have been,” she said in response. Her words were soft and genuine. She bore no ill will for Aemond, truly she did not. And she would not pretend she did.

“I am grateful you were granted such a kindness by the gods.”

His hands moved now from the sheet he stilled gripped to roam her stomach. The babe kicked at his touch as if to say hello. The two chuckled at the sensation.

“She has never kicked so eagerly before,” YN told him.

“She?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“Call it instinct,” she shrugged, smiling at his hand on her stomach.

“She has a fiery resolve, just as her mother and her mother before,” Jacaerys told her happily before leaning forward and placing a kiss to her stomach. “Such a beautiful mother already, my queen.”

“You are too good at your flattery, brother,” she whispered.

“Is it flattery if it’s true? Is it flattery if just the sight of you, swollen with a babe and practically dripping milk, make my cock harden?” he asked, looking up at her with his chin rested on her stomach.

When her jaw slacked and her lips parted, he knew he had her attention in the way he needed. He moved up her body, pressing gentle kisses along her stomach and breasts as he did. Her uptick in breathing was bordering on panting as she watched him. His mess of curls tickled her skin just as his lips did.

“Can’t wait until it is my babe in your stomach. But I will love this one just the same,” he murmured against her skin.

“I am married, brother,” she whispered as she attempted to move his head away.

“You think the gods care for the law of man when they have crafted you for me?” he asked. His body did not budge at her insistent nudges.

“Jacaerys,” she whispered.

His hand flew up to grip her wrist. It did not hurt but it was a former grasp than Aemond ever had. In a moment her hand was being held to the mattress by his own, his head unmoving. His face was nestled comfortably in the crook of her neck where he inhaled deeply.

“You know you were made for me, little one, just as I have known it always. And you said yourself our uncle cares for your happiness, yet where is he? Why does he not tend to you as you prepare for him the greatest gift?” he murmured against her neck.

“He is busy,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut as he once again inhaled her.

“The gods themselves would have to bind me to the earth in order to keep me from putting my cock in you whenever you needed,” he told her before nipping at her skin.

His free hand found it’s way to her left breast. She whimpered a bit under his touch, the pain she felt earlier mixing with a pleasure from how much he desired her. She could feel his smirk against her neck as he began rutting his hips against her lap. His hardened cock pressed painfully into her thigh.

She should tell him to move. She knew he would respect her desires. But how could she focus on any desire she held save for him? She had always loved Jacaerys as he loved her.

Her first memory was of Jace promising her she would be his Queen. He doted on her from the moment she was born. He had always told her she was his, made for him by the gods to be his perfect match, even after her betrothal. And while she understood the role she was meant to play in keeping the peace, she believe it too.

“What is this?” Aemond’s voice said from the door.

YN was about to answer him, to insist that despite what it looked like she had only been waiting for her maids to draw her bath. She could only hope he would understand. Instead, Jace sat up. He smirked at his younger sister before turning to face Aemond, his hand never leaving hers.

“I am doing your job, since apparently you do not find my sweet sister important enough,” he said to the blonde man.

“Do not speak to me of my wife,” Aemond said darkly. “She understands the nature of my position.”

“You do not speak to me of my sister,” Jace commanded. “She is beauty in all she is, she is carrying your child, and yet you do not wait on her hand and foot? Instead leaving her to rot in this room while you pour over your books and scrolls.”

“I am a prince you do not get to speak to me this way,” Aemond said angrily, though not as loud.

“And I am Prince of Dragonstone, Heir to the Iron Throne!” Jace all but shouted. “I should have your cock removed since you do not use it as you should! Send you to the Wall for daring to deny my sister an existence of gluttonous pleasure!”

Aemond silenced himself and looked to his wife. His wife who, until this moment, he wasn’t aware could look at someone with such a burning desire. But she looked at Jacaerys the way he had once hoped they would looked at each other, when he thought there was hope they would love each other. He could see that for her, Jacaerys hung the moon and stars.

“Close the door and sit in that chair by the window,” Jace told Aemond.

Having no choice to comply, the older man did as asked. There was little doubt in his mind Jacaerys would send him to the Wall if for no other reason than to have YN to himself. And so, he shut the bedroom door and took a seat in the chair.

The bed was close enough he got a perfect side view of his wife. He could admit the sight of her displayed in such a manner stirred something inside him. He could feel his cock twitch at the sight of her full breasts, her rounded belly, but mostly? It was the way she wasn’t even concerned with him.

Her focus was solely on Jacaerys now. Her brother was back to pressing kisses against her body. It was the first time Aemond could see the faces she made with the slightest pleasure. How easily her face contorted the second Jacaerys took one of her nipples between his teeth was a sight he wished he could commit to memory.

“Some ground rules,” Jacaerys said after pulling away from her breast. He looked to Aemond. “Sit in that fucking chair until I tell you you’re allowed to move. Answer me when you’re spoken to. Stroke your dick or whatever, just do not leave that chair.”

“And if she asks for me?” Aemond asked him.

“She won’t,” was all Jacaerys offered him. But it was enough to make YN whimper beneath him. Aemond flushed as his cock twitched once again, hardening with every passing second.

Jacaerys turned to YN, smiling down at her. “And you, my beautiful, darling, sweet sister…all I want is your permission to love your body the way it is meant to be loved,” he said. His voice with her was soft and tender as opposed to how harsh and angry he was with Aemond.

“Jace,” she whispered. She began to turn to Aemond, but Jacaerys gripped her chin and kept her gaze on him.

“No, my queen, it is not about him. It is about you, and us. About you belonging to me, if you wish,” he whispered to her. His brown doe eyes made her melt before he sat up, finally releasing her hand to he could grab the bottom of his shirt.

All she could do is nod. She was speechless with the sight of him pulling off his shirt. His toned abdomen caused a gush of her arousal to pool between her legs.

She felt heat flood her cheeks when he removed the sheet from her lower half. Her face felt even hotter when he pushed her legs apart, eyes locking in on her cunt.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” he praised her, hands rubbing the inside of her thighs. “Doesn’t she have a pretty pussy, Uncle?”

For the first time, YN looked at him. Her wide eyes were heavy with lust. In all the nights they had spent together, he had never really allowed himself the chance to take in the beauty of her face. He wanted more. Needed more

“Yes,” was all he could manage to say. His eyes moved from her face to where Jace was touching her. In almost expert fashion, Jace removed his pants. His cock was longer than Aemond’s, thicker too. As husband and wife stared at the monstrous cock, they both couldn’t imagine how it would fit.

“Have you drank from these tits, Uncle?” Jace asked Aemond without turning his eyes from her pussy. He smirked at how wet his sister was, feeling more desire in him than he had ever felt before.

“Not yet,” Aemond choked out. His self restraint was out the window now. He pulled his cock from his trousers and gripped it in his hand.

“Seems fitting, I suppose. You were the first to fuck a babe into her, I shall be the first to drink from her,” Jacaerys smirked at the idea of claiming a part of her Aemond had not.

He laid his cock in between her slick folds, allowing it to rest against her clit while he leaned down and began suckling from her. His left hand held one tit while he suckled from the other. Her sweet milk flowed freely past his eager lips and onto his greedy tongue.

He moaned against her as he ground his hips against hers. Her slick aided his cock in sliding between her folds and creating a friction that caused her to whine out. She couldn’t hold the moans from her lips.

“Fuck,” Aemond whispered. His pupil was blown wide as he desperately stroked his cock. Pre-cum beaded on the head just to continuously be wiped away by a swipe of his cum.

With a loud pop, Jacaerys pulled off her tit. He kissed her hungrily. There was nothing he needed more than her. He couldn’t help himself. He pulled his hips back just far enough to readjust, pushing his cock into her. She groaned into the kiss, feeling the burn of stretching around him. His hips stilled when his cock was seated half way inside her.

He broke the kiss after several moments. He looked between her lips and her leaking tits. His cock throbbed at the sight.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So fuckable. So perfect on my cock.”

“Yours, Jacey, yours,” she muttered. She made a pointed effort to ignore her husband whimpering in his chair. The thought of him so hard at this sight made her pussy flutter around the cock inside her. “Want your fucking cock, Jacey. All of it.”

He kissed all over her face as he pushed further into her. She cried out his name repeatedly, moaning, begging for more in the same breath she cried it was too much. Jacaerys nearly busted inside her in that moment. Her full tits moving with just the slightest snap of his hips, her cock drunk expression written on her face, her pregnant stomach pushing against him.

With her beautiful sounds as encouragement, he began fucking into her with abandon. All that mattered to him was how perfect she felt around him. Her walls squeezed around his cock in a quiet desperation to keep him inside her. With every stroke, the tip pushed against the spongey part of her walls, causing her to cry out his name. She was more sensitive in her pregnancy, allowing for her orgasm to build quickly.

“Fuck, fuck,” she moaned out as the band inside her snapped and her orgasm washed over her entirely.

The gush of her release flooded over his cock. He wanted to hear her moans every day. It was all he could think about as his balls, heavy with his load, slapped against her ass. His grunts and groans of pleasure drowned her out until finally he cried out her name, spilling his seed deep inside her.

“Stop,” YN commanded Aemond after a few seconds.. He looked to her face desperately, obediently stopping his furious tugs of his cock just as he was on the verge of his own release.

“What do you wish, my queen?” Jace panted, pulling his still throbbing cock from her.

“Eat your spend from my cunt. Then when you pull away I wish Aemond to begin to fuck me, and you spit your seed into his mouth,” she told her brother, never looking away from Aemond. She watched as his cock twitched with anticipation. “I think that is what my husband wants, too.”

Jace smirked at her once more before looking to Aemond. “Come over here, then. Naked. My Queen wishes to enjoy you.”

Aemond had never moved so fast in his life. As Jace moved down his lover’s body, YN took her husband’s hand. It was a small moment of intimacy neither had allowed themselves before. Until tonight, a certain part of them remained duty. But now, there was no pretending.

Jacaerys lapped eagerly at her clit once he found his home between her thighs. She squirmed under his careful tongue, whimpering his name. Aemond felt desperate now, to make her replicate those sounds for him.

Jacaerys pulled away from her right before she came again. She was breathing heavy, eyes wide, as she looked down at him. Without breaking eye contact, he reached beside him and grabbed Aemond by his cock. Wordlessly, Aemond allowed himself to be lead, occasionally bucking his hips into Jacaerys’ hand. YN moaned at the sight.

With Aemond in position, his cock firmly pressed against her entrance, Jacaerys grabbed his uncle by the jaw and squeezed. Aemond instinctually opened his mouth. The brunette looked to his sister, who at this point was rubbing her own clit, before turning back to Aemond and spitting the mixture of his seed and YN’s release onto his waiting tongue. Just like a seasoned whore in Flea Bottom, Aemond swallowed eagerly.

“Tell her thank you for the gift she has bestowed in you,” Jacaerys whispered in Aemond’s ear. His hand moved to grasp his uncle’s cock, giving slow, lazy tugs. Between the heat of his wife’s pussy all but begging him to fuck her and the firmness of his nephew’s hold, it was almost painful to not begin to fuck her at a reckless pace.

“Th-thank you, for giving me a child,” Aemond stuttered out. Jacaerys began grinding against Aemond’s hip, his cock hardening with every passing moment.

“Apologize to her for not satisfying her enough,” the future king demanded. His eyes watched his sister’s fingers rubbing furiously against her clit, her body trembling. And then they traveled up her body. “Tell her what a goddess she is.”

“Such a goddess,” he whispered, looking down at her. “I am a fool for not worshipping every moment.”

“Mhmphh,” Jacaerys breathed out as he rutted against his uncle. “Slide your pretty cock into her and beg her to keep you. Beg our Queen to decide she wants to keep you when I marry her.”

As soon as Jacaerys’ hand fell away, Aemond buried himself to the hilt inside her pussy. But his hand was not unoccupied for long. He batted her hand away from her clit and replaced her fingers with his. He rubbed the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts against Aemond’s hip.

“Do not cast me aside,” Aemond begged her, his hips moving at breakneck speed as he pounded away at his wife’s pussy. “YN, my wife, please. Keep me by your side, fuck, fuck, and and I will worship you.”

“Slow yourself, match your thrusts to mine. Deeply,” Jacaerys whispered his ear. Aemond was quick to adjust his speed. He wanted to make both of them happy.

“Fuck,” YN whined out. Her thighs were trembling uncontrollably as once again she approached orgasm. “Want both of you. Want to be Queen. Want to be both yours,” she begged the two men. Her back arched as she screamed out, their names tumbling from her lips in a jumbled mess. Both men tried to maintain their movements as she rode out her eye.

Jacaerys came first, still sensitive from his first orgasm. His sticky spend painted Aemond’s pale hip before beginning to slide down the taut muscles and onto the mattress below. Aemond followed sooner after, his seed finding home deep inside his wife.

The three of them were breathing heavily. Jacaerys stepped back off the bed, finding a cloth so that he could wipe off Aemond’s hip. By the time the blonde prince had pulled out, his cock had softened. But neither man could avoid staring at her pussy as it leaked cum.

Aemond laid beside his wife, Jacaerys on the other. She giggled and pulled a sheet over their bodies.

“We shall wed in the Valyrian tradition, and our Uncle and I shall take turns fucking babe after babe into you,” Jacaerys whispered as he kissed her cheek.

“It is against the Faith, the law,” YN reminded her brother.

But Aemond saw the frown on her face and knew how much she wanted that future. And he wished for it too, wished for more nights in which the three of them could spend together. Something inside him shifted as he looked at the two of them. What was once a marriage to his dearest friend was now more. It was a chance at a happiness he would never have allowed himself.

“Lucky for us, we know the person responsible for the law,” he murmured as his hand rested on her stomach. “And I have it on good authority he wishes nothing more than to allow us this pleasure.”

She looked up at his face, her gaze soft. “Truly?” she whispered.

“Jacaerys is right. I have been a fool. A fool for not realizing the beauty that you are, the wonderful thing you are giving me,” he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “And this was the happiest I have ever seen you.”

“It is the happiest you have ever been either, dear husband,” she pointed out. “I have never seen you so responsive.”

Jacaerys rested his own again against her stomach, his finger tips grazing Aemond’s. “I am glad to have seen it from the both of you.”

“Marry her. And we shall all be together as we were tonight,” Aemond murmured. Jacaerys chuckled. “What?”

“Oh next time, I’m fucking your ass while you fuck her,” he smirking. “Or maybe we should see if both our cocks could fit in her.”

“Oh, I think she’s definitely a good enough girl to let us try. Aren’t you, my wife?”

She nodded eagerly before leaning up to kiss him. He hummed against her lips for just a moment before she pulled away and kissed Jacaerys.

When she pulled away, both men moved as close as possible to her and held her.

“I love you, sweet sister.”

Taglist: @alexagirlie

#aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #aemond targaryen x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader smut #aemond x reader x jacaerys #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #use of yn #reader insert

[hollybell51]

Gentleman

Navigation

Sam Winchester x AFAB!fem!Reader

Supernatural (2005), s03e02 “bloodlust”

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: you and Sam don't exactly see eye to eye with Dean's new friend, so you return to the motel by yourselves. Things... escalate.  

Content: smutty smut smut! Shameless, loving, gentle porn with a bit of a plot. Tooth rotting sappiness and fluff. Bit of hurt/comfort, bit of angst. Reader is just so in love with Sam (I am too dw). Sam is down horrendously bad for the reader (I'm horrendously down bad for him. I cannot emphasise this enough). Use of (Y/N), but not too much. Hickeys, making out, extremely light switchiness (barely noticeable, just healthily flexible dynamics), blowjobs, handjobs, fingering, safe sex, vaginal sex. Hugs all round (someone needed to give these boys one), Dean and the reader get along, Dean has like one soft moment, there's quite a bit of reminiscing and stuff. Gordon's vibes are Off. As above, set during season 2 episode 3.

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEAR MY LOVES! I'm (kinda) back, and my summaries have not gotten any better! Started watching Supernatural and got brainrot. Got lots of stuff planned but probably won't actually write it (sorry). The things I would let these two men do to me is insane like actually insane besties I am not ok. Anyways enjoy the by-product of my suffering, consider this a peace offering as I worm my way into the Supernatural fandom.

Also I have been working sporadically on some requests so if you made one chances are I've seen it and I have started it, but also I have Things in my Life right now that are very Stressful so yeah that's fun but yknow it is what it is, thanks everyone for being so supportive and patient with me xx

To say you were uncomfortable would have been an understatement. It wasn’t just how easily Gordon was talking about what had happened, or the too-bright light in his eyes as he recounted it, or Dean’s ease with the whole thing. It had been a freaking execution! And sure, the guy was a vampire, but the way the saw had just chewed right through his neck, the kicking of his legs as he’d died, the blood spraying over Dean’s face… yeah. As Sam had put it, decapitations weren’t really your idea of a good time. And it certainly wasn’t something you felt like laughing about over drinks. 

You could see Sam’s leg bouncing slightly, his face blank as he stared at the beer he was nursing. Your own stomach twisted with unease. Chances were, if he was on edge, so were you. The emotional interplay wasn’t new, and in fact, Dean gave you endless shit about it. “I don’t know what’s up with you,” he’d say. “I just gotta thank God I don’t develop some freaky emotional feedback loop with every girl I bang.” 

Now, Sam glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. You screwed up your nose. Not enough to be too noticeable, but enough to let him know you thought something was a bit off too. He nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“What’s up with you two?” Dean asked, frowning at your practically untouched beer. 

You shrugged. Sam shrugged. 

Dean rolled his eyes, taking a mouthful of his drink before turning to his new friend. “I swear,” he said, “they read each others' minds. He’s grumpy, she’s grumpy. She’s happy, he’s happy. I reckon if she stubbed her toe, he’d be limping.” 

Gordon barked a laugh, raising his eyebrows. “That so?” 

“Dean, come off it,” you sighed. 

He shook his head, smiling. “Lighten up, both of you.” 

You opened your mouth to say something about how you didn’t think lightening up was really appropriate given the circumstances, but the scraping of Sam’s chair cut you off. 

“I’m not gonna bring you guys down,” he said. “I’m just gonna go back to the motel.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed as he glanced at you, “I’m a bit tired.” 

Dean frowned. “You sure?” 

You nodded, standing. 

“Ok,” he shrugged. “Seeya.” 

“Seeya,” you smiled tightly, then passed him your unfinished beer. “You want this?” 

“You’re not taking it?” 

You shook your head. “Not in a beer sort of mood.” 

He gave you a searching look, then shrugged again and took the drink. “Sure.” 

“Thanks, Gordon.” You nodded to the other hunter. As much as you felt off about him, you didn’t need to be rude. 

He inclined his head back to you. “My pleasure.” 

Sam’s hand settled on your back as you joined him by the door, and you cast a final glance back at the two men remaining at the table. 

“Sammy!” Dean called, the car keys jingling in his hand as he tossed them to his brother. “Remind me to beat that buzzkill outta you later, alright?” 

Sam caught them with ease, Gordon’s enquiry of “something I said?” chasing you out the door. Hell yeah, it was something he said. It was everything he said.  

“Jesus,” you grumbled, shivering in the cold air. 

Sam snorted, absently shrugging off his jacket and handing it to you. Equally thoughtlessly, you put it on. It had become something of a routine. Sam didn’t exactly get too cold very often, but you did. He was many things, and “gentleman” was pretty high on the list by you reckoning. 

“I don’t know about all of this,” he said, feet crunching on the gravel as he headed towards the car. “Something’s…” 

“Off, yeah.” You swung into the passenger seat, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 

“I can’t quite–” The engine cut him off for a moment, but he didn’t finish the sentence anyway. It didn’t matter.

“I know, it’s a brain itch.” 

Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me about it. Seatbelt,” he added as the car rolled out of the parking lot, another habit between the two of you. You could have sworn you’d have been dead years ago if you hadn’t had someone reminding you to use the damn things, a fact that both Winchester brothers were not afraid to attempt to drill into you. They hadn’t had much success. 

You hummed as you clicked the strap across your body, shrinking further down into the seat. You were feeling better now that you weren’t sitting across from Gordon, now that it was just you and Sam. You loved Dean, of course you did, but Sam was just so easy to be around. The two of you clicked, simple as that, and you adored it. 

“I’m gonna call Ellen,” Sam said decisively, frowning at the road. “Maybe she knows him.” 

You nodded. “Mhm, good idea.” 

You were still humming – the melody from something that had been playing on the drive that day, you thought – as you entered the motel room, gulping down a glass of water before jumping onto the kitchen counter. Your heels made a dull thud, thud, thud, on the cupboards as you swung them, the zipper of Sam’s jacket swishing over the cheap vinyl. You watched him take a seat on the bed and dial Ellen. 

You listened idly to his side of the conversation, eventually sliding off the counter top and coming to sit behind him on the bed. You rested your head on his shoulder, sighing. It had been an oddly long day. 

“But I thought you said he was a good hunter,” he was frowning. 

You thought you heard her say “Hannibal Lecter”, and frowned too. Shit, was Gordon some kind of serial killer? You hoped not. 

Sam’s back was warm under your cheek, but his shoulders were tense. The last few weeks hadn’t been easy. You hadn’t known John Winchester well, but the time you’d spent with him had been… Well, it hadn’t been nice exactly, but you could see the love he had for his sons. You couldn’t imagine going through what Sam had, almost losing his brother and then really losing his father in the space of a week. You thought he was handling everything reasonably well, all things considered.

There’d been one moment, just a few days ago, when you’d thought he might crack. Dean had been out like a light in the back of the car, and you’d reached around to snap a photo of him squished up against the window. You’d laughed at it – he looked ridiculous. When you’d glanced up to show Sam, he was staring straight at the road, a muscle in his jaw twitching. 

“Alright?” you’d asked, and he’d nodded.

You’d frowned. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

This time, a head shake.

He wasn’t alright, you could see that clear as day. “Sam, pull over,” you said softly.

He’d swung the car off the road so abruptly you’d jerked against your seatbelt, simply sitting with his foot on the brake and both hands on the steering wheel.

You’d reached over and put the car in park, switching off the ignition. “Come on,” you’d said, “out.” 

He’d leant against the side of the car, arms crossed, staring out into the field you were driving past. 

“Interesting grass?” you’d asked, bumping your shoulder against his. 

He hadn’t smiled exactly, but his mouth had definitely twitched up a bit at the corner. You’d consider that a win. 

“Seriously,” you’d prodded. “What’s up?” 

“I don’t…” He’d trailed off, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “I can’t…” 

You’d frowned as he’d shaken his head, looking anywhere but you. You’d told yourself something like this was gonna happen eventually, prepped the whole “I’m here no matter what” speech a thousand times, but now you didn’t really know what to do. The only thing you could think of was to put your hand on his back, rubbing slow, soothing circles like your kindergarten teacher used to do when you were upset. 

Sam’s voice was choked when he finally spoke. “I can’t lose you.” 

Four words, but you were convinced your heart had shattered right there. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, stepping to face him. You took his hands in yours, uncrossing his arms.

“How can you–?” 

You cut him off, shaking your head as you raised his hands to your face and kissed his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere,” you repeated. “Nowhere you can’t follow.” 

He’d just nodded, pulling you into a tight hug. You breathed deeply, the strong smell of the most recent laundromat’s detergent all around you, your fingers bunched in the back of Sam’s shirt. 

“I’ve got your back,” you whispered. “You know that, right?”

“I know,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ve got yours, too.” 

“Good.” You’d pulled away, smiling as you stretched up to kiss him. It was soft and chaste, but that was all either of you needed. 

Then Dean had woken up and shouted at you to save your “romantic moments” for when you weren’t supposed to be driving. You’d grumbled that he was just jealous, which he’d vehemently denied amongst a lot of vomit noises. But later, as you’d waited for Sam to get back with lunch, he’d put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to his side. 

“I’m glad he’s got you,” he’d said. “Real glad.” 

“You’ve got me too,” you’d smiled. “Always.” 

He’d just stared at you for a moment, his arm still around you, before he’d cleared his throat and stepped back. “Thanks,” he’d muttered. “‘ppreciate it.”  

Now, with the same softness, you let your hand slide up Sam’s back and across his shoulders, then down his side. You brushed over his chest, down to his stomach, then back up to settle over his heart. You always forgot how big he was until you tried to get your arms around him, then it was like hugging a mountain. You loved it. 

He cleared his throat. 

You smiled, placing a soft kiss where his hair brushed the back of his neck, using your free hand to sweep it away. 

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said to Ellen. He sighed as your lips trailed higher, up under his ear. 

“Mhm, we will.” His fingers curled in the bed covers as you sucked ever so gently at the spot you’d found, the one you knew drove him insane. 

“Yep, alright. Thanks, Ellen.” A forceful swallow as you rubbed slow patterns across his front, nothing but the thin material of his shirt separating your hand from his skin. 

“Ok. Bye.” 

You smiled as the phone beeped, then was thrown to the bed. You eased your hand under his shirt, shivering as your fingers met the warm expanse of his torso. You could touch him like this forever, if you were given the chance. 

“What’re you doing?” he breathed, tilting his head back, baring his throat. 

“Kissing you,” you whispered as you moved down the muscle of his neck, “touching you,” as your hand ran gently over his pectoral, thumb grazing his nipple. 

“Mm, do I get to kiss you too?” 

You smiled. “If you ask nicely, yeah.” 

“Please?” 

“Hm?”

He sighed. “(Y/N), come on.” 

“Nope,” you laughed softly. “Ask nicely.” 

You felt his chest heave under your hand, and you pressed your mouth to his neck again. 

“Pretty please,” he murmured. 

You pretended to be considering this for a moment, dragging it out. Truth be told, you wanted him to kiss you just as much as he wanted to, but God it was fun teasing a bit. Especially like this, when it was you draped over his back, hinting at giving him hickeys, touching wherever you pleased. 

“Go ahead,” you replied. 

Before you could even draw another breath he’d turned and brought his hand up to cup your face, pressing his lips against yours. You let him lick into your mouth, his tongue sliding languidly alongside your own, the faint taste of beer still clinging to him. It was all so soft and gentle and full of care, everything you adored about him. 

He shifted back on the bed, turning to face you. Your hands were still under his shirt, arm still stretched across his body as he pushed against you. 

“I love this on you,” he murmured as his hands found the opening of his jacket, pushing it back over your shoulders. 

You smiled. “You want me to take it off?” 

“And this.” He plucked at the t-shirt you wore underneath, already coaxing it upwards. 

“Alright,” you laughed, batting his hands away. “Patience is a virtue.” 

“Whoever said that clearly never met you.” 

You looked away, hoping to hide the pink you could feel flooding your cheeks. However many times you did this, Sam never failed to get you flustered. You could sense his eyes on you as you stripped yourself of your shirt and his jacket, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

He started to shuffle back further onto the bed, one hand settling on your waist as he leant down to kiss along your jaw. You sighed, your mind halfway made up to just let him keep going like that. But no. 

“Uh-uh,” you said, pushing him gently off you. 

“What do you–? Oh.” 

You smiled as you slid off the bed, kneeling between his legs. You ran your hand up his thigh, deftly undoing his belt and fly. Heck, you’d had practice. “Can I?”

“Yes,” he nodded quickly. “God, yes.” 

You rolled your eyes, gesturing to his pants. “Well you gotta help me out a bit, yeah?” 

“Sorry,” he grinned, shedding them in one smooth motion.

“And those.” You pointed at his underwear. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“Damn right,” you muttered as you kissed your way up his thigh, nipping gently at the skin of his hip. He smelled of the soap from last night’s motel room, faint but still there, a little sweat from the night’s earlier action. You could taste it where your tongue touched him, and man was it good.

His voice was breathy when he asked, “You gonna keep teasing me forever?” 

“Maybe.” You watched as goosebumps appeared where your breath tickled him, smiling to yourself. 

“Is that what’s got you smiling like that?” 

You sat back on your heels, arms resting on his knees as you looked up at him. He was so gorgeous, the shitty neon lighting of the room glancing off his hair in a kind of halo. You thought your next words through very carefully. 

“No,” you said slowly. “I’m thinking about how your cock’s gonna feel in my mouth. How you’re gonna say my name when I’ve got you so deep down my throat I’m almost gagging. I bet you won’t be able to keep your hands off me, I’ll make you feel so good.” 

Sam’s mouth fell open, his hands twitching where they rested on the duvet. 

“What do you think?” 

He swallowed. “I think I’m not even gonna take you up on that bet, I think you’re right.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Ok then.” You smiled, leaning forward and taking his dick in your hands. It was hard and warm to the touch, already leaking precum. You licked down, then up again, swirling your tongue around the head. 

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Please, (Y/N).” 

“You want me to suck it?” 

“Yes. Please.” 

You shrugged. “Since you asked so nicely.” You sank your mouth down onto him, your hands working what wouldn’t fit. Sam’s thighs tensed, and you moved. You could have stayed like that forever, you thought, just holding him in your mouth. You had half a mind to ask about that, actually. 

Sam moaned, his fingers twisting in the covers as you pulled your head back, then forward again, sucking and licking along his length. You’d wanted to take your time at first, tease him and see how long it took for him to be fisting your hair and moving your head for you. But now, breathing in the smell of him, feeling the weight and the heat of him, you were losing your composure. 

“Oh my God,” he whispered as you increased your speed, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. His dick was slick with your spit and only getting messier, something you might have been embarrassed about in the past. Now it turned you on. 

You moaned, the vibrations jolting Sam’s hips despite his best efforts. You gave a tiny huff of laughter out your nose, lowering your head even further until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. 

“(Y/N),” he panted. “Shit, (Y/N).” 

“Hm?” You glanced up at him, your eyes watering slightly. He made a sound you’d thought only existed in pornos – before you met him, that was – as his hand finally flew to your hair, his fingers carding through it. He was trying so hard to be gentle, and you loved him for it. 

“You look so hot like that,” he whispered. “How’re you so fucking hot?” 

You smiled, your enthusiasm doubling. You vividly remembered a conversation you’d had with Sam and Dean in the car once, where Dean had proclaimed that “there are blowjobs, and then there are blowjobs.” Sam had turned and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Dean had yelled at you both and told you to get a room. What you were doing right now was definitely a blowjob, and you were loving every second of it. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Sam was panting, “(Y/N) oh my God I’m gonna cum.” 

His fingers tightened in your hair, his head thrown back and his cock twitching in your mouth. You went all in, sucking and licking and jerking with everything you had in you. 

Yes, you thought as you swallowed everything he gave you, basking in his muttered curses and groans like they were water and you were a wilted houseplant. This was heaven, right here. Every time you watched him come undone, you were completely convinced it couldn’t get any better than this. And without fail, the next time it did. 

He was still panting as you licked him clean, as gently as you could. His hand had settled on your shoulder, large fingers caressing your skin so tenderly it made you want to cry. 

“You ok?” you asked, sitting back. You patted his knee, watching his face carefully. He was flushed, a light sheen of sweat sticking some of his hair to his forehead. You hadn’t really paid much attention at the time, but now you wished you’d made him take off his shirt too. You loved watching his chest heave as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Ok?” he echoed, opening his eyes. He grinned. “I’m more than ok.” 

You smiled back, licking your lips. “Good.” 

“Come up here,” he said, patting his leg. “And take off your pants.” 

“Magic word?”

“Please.” Then, on second thoughts, “pretty please.” 

You laughed, but got up and shed your jeans anyway. You slid onto his lap, straddling his thigh and wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you softly, holding you close against him. The material of his shirt tickled your skin, very noticeably baring you from the silken warmth of his skin. 

“Off,” you said against his lips, plucking at the garment. 

“Off,” he repeated, tracing the line of your underwear. 

Almost perfectly in sync, the two of you shed the offending clothing. 

“I love this,” he whispered as he reached behind you, deftly unfastening your bra and pulling it away from you. He set it aside carefully, almost reverently, then bent his head and fastened his mouth to your breast. “Hey,” he said after a moment, frowning. 

You frowned too. “What’s wrong?” 

His finger traced a delicate circle over your other breast, tapping at a spot just above your nipple. “What’s this?” 

You squinted at the area, then laughed. The faded yellowish bruise wasn’t all that visible, but of course Sam would find it. 

“What is it?” 

“It’s a hickey. From you. From last time.” 

His face cleared. “Shit, didn’t realise it’d last that long. Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” you smiled. “Makes me think of you whenever I see it.” 

“Maybe I should give you more, then.” 

Your grin widened. “Please.”

“Mm?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Pretty please.” 

“Ok.” He bent once more, sucking a matching spot into your unmarked breast. Then he added another one beside it, and a third right in the middle of your sternum. 

“No more low cut tops, I guess,” you sighed, stifling a moan as he moved downwards with another. 

“Shame,” he murmured into your skin, “I love those low cut tops.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I’d be insane not to.” 

You laughed, then gasped as he ran his hand up your thigh. 

“Relax,” he said. 

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed.” 

“Your heartbeat says you’re lying.” 

“That’s for you,” you told him, meeting his eyes. “That’s what you do to me.” 

“And this?” His finger darted between your legs, sliding easily with how wet you were. 

“Yeah,” you gasped, “all for you.” 

He cursed softly, then lowered you gently onto the bed. He propped himself half over you, half beside you, his hand stroking down over your stomach, your hips, around your pelvis. 

“Please,” you moaned. “Sam, please.” 

“Please what?” 

“Touch me. Please,” you added as an afterthought. 

“Nice manners,” he noted, rubbing achingly slow circles over your clit. 

You gripped his arm, fingers digging into the muscle as he bent and resumed his assault on your breasts. 

“You take such good care of me,” he continued, his voice muffled slightly by your soft flesh. “You always take such good care of me.”

“Cause I love you,” you whispered. 

“Mhm, you gonna let me take care of you too?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Of course.” 

“Good.”

You whined at the loss of his fingers on your clit, then bit your lip to quiet what would have been a loud moan as he slipped the finger inside you. The heel of his hand ground against your sensitive bundle of nerves, his finger putting just the right pressure in just the right places. You’d be a mess in no time, and you both knew it. 

“Fuck, Sam,” you panted, your back arching as you chased the feeling. 

“Hm?” His chest was warm where it pressed against your side, the muscles of his arm rippling subtly under the skin where your fingers dug into him. His free hand stroked your shoulder, his mouth busy littering your chest with hickeys. You could feel him growing hard again against your thigh. 

“Fuck me?” you half asked, half offered. 

He grunted softly at your words, nodding. “Got a condom?” 

“Mhm, yeah, sure. One sec.” You reached over to your jeans, rummaging in the pockets until you struck gold. Or foil, you supposed. You watched as Sam tore it open and slid it on, as easily as if he was tying shoelaces. He’d gotten stupidly fast at putting the things on, courtesy of the whole “Dean could get back any minute so let’s just be as fast as we can” element you so often found yourselves dealing with. You weren’t complaining. 

“Ready?” he asked, positioning himself between your legs. You rocked your hips gently, feeling his hardness pressed against your dripping centre. 

He nodded, then softly slid inside you. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch and the warmth of it. It was like he was made for you, the way he fit. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, your fingers twisting in the duvet. 

“Alright?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“Move,” you urged him. He did, slow and gentle. The light was doing that thing with his hair again, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it. Brush it off his forehead, kiss him there, smooth the faint worry line that seemed to be present more and more frequently. You’d do anything to make it disappear forever. 

“You feel so good,” he murmured, leaning forward to deliver more kisses to your chest. You were gonna have a whole forest of hickeys when you were done.  

“You feel good,” you replied. Your breath was coming short, a light sheen of sweat gathering over your skin even though you weren’t the one doing all the work. 

“Touch yourself,” he encouraged you, “I want you to cum while I’m fucking you.” 

“Shit, ok,” you replied, reaching down and running a finger in tiny circles over your clit. You loved how easily you could give and take control with him, how quickly and smoothly you could switch roles when you wanted to. It wasn’t just in bed, either, and you adored it. You adored him.

Your own hand combined with the steady thrusting of his dick was perfect. You weren’t going to last long, and judging by Sam’s shuddering breaths and muttered curses, your name sprinkled throughout, neither was he. 

“(Y/N), fuck,” he moaned, his abdominal muscles twitching and tensing. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you gasped as you felt the tightness coiling inside you, more, more, more– “Holy fuck, I’m gonna–” You released with a frantic cry of his name, your spine arching and your legs locking around his hips. You felt yourself contract around his dick, the stuttering of his strokes as he too reached his climax. 

He slowed eventually, coming to a stop as the tremors receded from your body and your brain returned to your head. You were spent, content to lie there with his warm, comforting weight on top of you until the world stopped turning. 

He rolled off you, peeling off the condom and tying it neatly before tossing it to the floor to be disposed of later. You turned to face him, your head resting on his bicep, his other arm draped over your side. His hand stroked your back, soft and loving. 

You smiled as you reached up, sweeping the hair from his face. “You good?” you murmured, cupping his cheek gently. 

He nodded, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You reciprocated, then stretched up and placed a kiss on his forehead. 

“How about you?” he asked. 

“I’m great.” Then you sighed, your thumb stroking tiny arcs across the curve of his cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered. 

“Look at you,” he answered. “You’re so beautiful.”  

You closed the few inches of space between you, pressing your lips to his. “I really do love you,” you said as you pulled away. “So much.” 

He smiled. “I know, I love you too. More than anything.” 

You went to kiss him again, but his phone buzzed and you froze. He groped for it blindly, frowning. You’d both learnt the hard way that if his phone went off and Dean wasn’t with you, it was best to check it. 

Sam snorted, flipping it around for you to see. 

The text, from Dean, was two sentences. “Back in 1/2 hour. Get decent.” 

“Screw you, Dean.” 

Sam laughed, tossing the phone to the side. “I guess we’ve got half an hour.” 

“I’m taking a shower then,” you said. “I saw a vending machine, like, right outside, and I really want a soda right now.” 

“I’ll get you a soda if you let me take the shower with you?” 

“Deal.” You held out your hand as if to shake on it, but he kissed it instead. Yeah, “gentleman” was definitely high up on that list. 

#supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam x reader #smut #female reader #fluff #angst with fluff #second person narration #that means “you” pronouns n stuff #use of yn #hurt/comfort #oversharing in the tags #once more i have to talk about how much i just love him #i want him so bad #i need to like pat his head or something #give him a hug #maybe a little kiss #maybe lots of little kisses #got me giggling and shit #twirling my hair and everything #the things he could do to me #the things i would do to him #oh god your honour i am in love #it hasnt been this bad since my 2018 loki obsession #which coincidentally got me into fanfiction i the first place #but we don't need to talk about that #reader insert #fanfiction

[semisolidmind]

I'd like to ask for a family photo of Angel with their found family. Kissy and Poppy included if you please.

a photo found on the bedside table of an upstairs bedroom of a long abandoned house in the woods. the owner was a recluse who supposedly died on the property.

it's strange... what are those things? like old toys that were popular a long time ago, but; they look too... alive to just be toys.

#click for quality cause mobile is stupid #poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday #kissy missy #dogday x reader #dogday x y/n #sunnyangel #its sad but im imagining some urbex explorer finding yns house #and finding evidence of who used to live there #not much but some old photos and furniture #its occupants have long since moved on #whether in death or to somewhere new is unknown

[strawberri-yan]

I have a crack-ish concept with yan!Aventurine. Darling who reciprocates his affection (due to his manipulation too) but platonically because whenever she sees Aventurine she sees a poor kid bullied by everyone. Totally not inspired by the kid Aventurine chibi thing from HSR.

He won, but at what cost?

The real definition of mission failed successfully 👍

THISSSSS

I love this idea sm

#i took the liberty to use a masc presenting yn #to show my masc ppls som love ❤️ #yandere male #tw yandere #my art #yandere honkai star rail #yandere aventurine #hsr aventurine

[velvetwilde]

Who has the face like smarty does?

Who has the voice like smarty does?

Who has the choice like smarty does?

nobody, nobody, nobody.

#spencer is so lana coded #what can i say? #Spencer is the real smarty #spencer reid #lana del rey #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x yn #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #doctor spencer reid #mgg #criminal minds #cm #softdom spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #this is what makes us girls #just girly things #girlblogging #SoundCloud

[seattlesellie]

not about love ♡ (part two)

ೃ⁀➷ read part 1 here | part 3 | part 4

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: ellie and you are practically best friends, and what is a friendship without underlying romantic feelings, unclear boundaries and a very, harsh state of constant denial?

warnings: ellie’s mean in order to cope with her feelings, shes also a loser, sexual tension, smut, masturbation (e!)

“What are you doing?”

Fuck. your heart practically just leapt out of your chest. You dropped Ellie’s phone onto the ground, where it landed with a muffled thud. You looked like a deer caught in headlights.

In a flurry of quick movements, both Ellie and you instinctively reached down to grab the fallen phone. Your hands darted toward it, but Ellie's reflexes proved quicker as she snatched the device before your fingertips could even make contact.

Come up with an excuse. Now. You weren’t looking, you didn’t see. Your finger slipped, you had something in your eye, some fine dust, blurring your vision. You didn’t see anything. Tell her, quick.

Ellie unlocked the screen swifter than a startled cat. Fucking face ID. She froze, a soft, involuntary gasp leaving her throat. She thought she had imagined, for sure. It couldn’t be, her dirty little secret, exposed. It’s like that time Joel caught her searching up “Girls kissing” on YouTube when she was just a scrawny, slightly awkward thirteen year old. She remembered how her breath hitched. How her fingertips felt like they were melting. How he told her that it’s okay, that kids get curious sometimes, that she shouldn’t feel ashamed of herself. She remembered how hot she felt in the face, how she sniffled like an idiot in front of the the bathroom mirror. There it was again. Shame, and embarrassment, and… Anger. Her fists clenched tightly. She was speechless. And she was pissed.

You sat there in stunned silence for what felt like an eternity, a vacant pause stretching out for a seemingly endless five seconds before you spoke.

“I didn’t… I… didn’t see — It’s, Finger slipped and…” You were babbling frantically. Good job for coming up with an incredible excuse. Didn’t see, finger slipped.

Ellie was stood frozen in front you, cheeks as red as a plump, Pinklady apple that laid in the sun for a tad too long. You took pride in yourself for always knowing what Ellie was thinking. When she was sad, you knew. When Ellie was stressed, you could feel it in your bones. It was like a sixth sense. To you, her face was an open book, her emotions unabashedly revealed through every flicker of expression. Your senses weren’t kicking in at this moment. Was it her? Or was it you?

“Why…. Why were you going through my pictures?” Ellie's voice quivered.

Even as she questioned, she did not meet your panicked gaze for a second. Her throat was dry, and she felt like swallowing her entire fist. Why did she let you even come here? You, and your stupid games, your distractions, the way you make her feel, the way she wanted to rip her heart out of her chest and hand it over to you, there, it’s yours, take it. Be mine. She shouldn’t have let you come, but she did. She always did, and now, she really fucking shouldn’t have.

“I was just… On there, Ellie, I didn’t see, I just opened and closed it, It’s nothing just…” your voice was shaky. You always were, and always will be, such a bad fucking liar. Especially with her.

“It’s for your birthday” Ellie blurted out, hastily tucking the phone into her pocket. Her emerald eyes briefly met yours, but she swiftly averted her gaze, fixating on the black Converse shoes adorning her feet. If you thought you were a terrible liar, god knows Ellie was worse. She wished she could claw her short fingernails into her calloused palms. You did good, she thought. Good fucking save. She cleared her throat, and burned her gaze through you. People who lie don’t make eye contact. There you go, Ellie. Genius move.

“My birthday?” you questioned, toying with the soft flannel material adorning the bed beneath you. You definitely just saw a piece of dust and had to remove it. you definitely weren’t fidgeting, not at all.

“Yeah… Just something Dina really wanted me to do…” she huffed, a hint of exasperation lacing her words.

“Like, collect pics of you and put them on a canvas and shit… I don’t know” She shrugged. Good fucking save.

You chose to believe. oh, you.

“Oh… I’m sorry for ruining that” you mumbled quietly.

The fast thumps of her heart slowed, like when she told Joel someone got on her computer and searched up those words. Wasn’t her, never her. You’re so naive!

“It’s chill” she sniffed, her body slightly relaxing. She sat back down on the rolling chair, and tried to go back to her studies. She felt her back sweating through the thick material of her hoodie. It’s chill. She quickly spun to face you. The wires of her brain connected again.

“By the way… uh… That pic of you sleeping? Took it because I thought you looked dumb” She laughed dryly. Fuck, it was so fucking awkward.

You bit down a soft pout.

There you fucking go again, with those sad looks you give her, the ones who make her throat go drier than the Sahara desert and her heart clench. The same expression she imagines when she… fuck. She felt so stupid.

“Oh… Cool” you muttered. Cool?

“Yeah… looked like fucking Snorlax over there… Had to do it, y’know?”

It’s like the shitshow was never ending. What is she going to do next? Call you a stupid bitch? Punch you in the face? Her teacher once told her that kid’s are mean when they like someone. But she wasn’t a fucking kid, she was twenty years old.

“Yeah..." you forced a giggle, nervously biting your nail.

Ellie lowered her gaze to the ground and clicked her pen obnoxiously. She was always one to fidget when she had to distract herself from something, But you weren’t just something. you weren’t just someone. Ellie felt a droplet of sweat dripping, and itching the back of her ear. She really had to fucking go, or you have to fucking leave.

“I gotta go” you muttered, giving Ellie a polite smile.

Thank fuck.

If you stayed there for a second longer, your faucet would start leaking. It wouldn’t have been the first time you would have burst into tears in her room, either. The lump in your throat was growing bigger and bigger, painfully tugging at you.

“Where?” She questioned. Be cool, Ellie. You don’t care. Hide it, burry it.

“Uh — Project” you muttered. You swiftly grabbed your purse and dorm keys that laid on the wooden table. That purse had it’s own story to tell. Ellie and you bickered about it once. She couldn’t understand why you insisted on bringing that useless thing with you every damn day, it was college, not a nightclub. “What the fuck do you even put in there — Oh fuck… thats fucking heavy.” “I’ll carry it for you, you’re too weak n’shit”

Oh how utterly ridiculous Ellie looked holding the studded bag, contrasting her red flannel and ripped baggy jeans. She couldn’t have cares less - She was holding your purse, she was doing it for you, and for a second, just a little one, she almost felt like your girlfriend.

“Okay” she mumbled.

You stood there staring for a second too long.

“See ya…. Bro”

Fuck did you just say?

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie spat. she looked, amused?

“I said I’ll see ya” you said softly.

You didn’t even know where that came out of. Revenge? What a stupid fucking way of doing that. You felt embarrassed with yourself. The word felt so… silly leaving your mouth.

You nervously toyed with the fabric of your skirt. If only you could drill a hole into the ground, jump inside and live there forever.

“Did you just call me bro?”

Ellie huffed, a cocky smile resting on her lips. There she was again, old cocky Ellie. It only took one thing for you to say. Funny how she got like this just right before you planned on leaving. She was a coward, and a tease, and a fucking loser.

“You call me that all the time.” you stated, that damn pout she wanted to knock out of you laying on your lips.

“S’annoying” you mumbled under your breath.

You truly were ready to leave. Were you a coward too? did the unspoken, undeniable tension in the room pump through your veins as much as it pumped through hers?

“I call everybody bro, Dina, Jesse, everybody. You’re pretty much the only one who thinks its annoying” Ellie said, spreading her legs slightly. God, would she stop that? Your face was getting warm.

“I’m not everybody”

Direct.

The room fell quiet.

Ellie’s heart was beating like a hammer through her chest. Her gaze, serious for once, burned through you. She stood up, the chair creaking at the sudden movement.

You gulped.

You could hear her heavy breaths infiltrating your already hazy mind.

“No you’re not” Her voice was raspy, almost as quiet as a whisper.

She looked you up and down. Animal and her prey. Her palms were sweating.

You swiftly opened the door, and left.

♡

“Fucking fucking shit — fucking shit” Ellie was panting. What the fuck was that. Was she delirious again? Did she take something? Did you lace her fucking weed? She kicked the small dinosaur lego with her foot.

She was throwing a fucking tantrum. It lasted for and hour and a half, before she came down from it, her brain feeling sore and the vein on her forehead pulsing.

“FUCKING HATE HER” she wrote down on her journal until the pen left a hole through the page.

When Ellie closed her eyes, no earlier than 3AM, she felt sick to her stomach. She felt like punching herself in the face.

She fumbles, on and on and on.

When Ellie’s mind started to race with pictures of you, her hand started to wander too. It was impulsive, and perverted, and it happened every night.

Her veiny hand was working like a clock. Harsh circles abusing her clit. It was almost painful. Almost. And it felt so fucking good, too.

Her phone was in her left hand, a picture of you flashing on the screen. The brightness was turned all the way off. If the brightness was low, maybe it would have been less dirty, she thought. Maybe it could save her.

She pumped her fingers in and out of her wet cunt, hissing and moaning obscenities.

When Ellie almost reached her high, she was whimpering. Whimpering your name.

“Fucking hate you” She hissed.

“Fucking hate that stupid face — Oh shit — Oh fuck”

She was almost there.

Her slick was running down her sweatpants covered thigh. She couldn’t even bother taking them off.

“Fuck you”

She felt herself squeezing around her fingers, tightening up.

Closer.

“Fuck, Slut, Shit - Fuck, I fuck -“

She grunted, fastening her pace.

“I fucking love you - fucking love you” Ellie whimpered frantically as she rode her high.

She was sound asleep twenty seconds later.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #wlw #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou ellie #ellie x you #ellie x yn #lesbian

[poeticpascal]

Home (Joel Miller x Barbie!Reader)

Masterlist | Request here!

Summary: When a deep sense of loneliness overcomes Cowgirl Barbie, she leaves Barbieland to find whatever poor kid it is that's making her feel that way. Of course, she could never have expected just how much light Sarah would bring to her life, and she certainly didn't expect the things her grumpy father would teach her about love.

Word count: 10.6k

Warnings: Barbie movie spoilers, angst, angry Joel (he's insecure and protective), descriptions of loneliness, lots of fluff!

A/n: this is literally my Magnum Opus. Reader is Cowgirl Barbie. I truly hope you love this as much as I do 💖

Barbieland has been very different since Stereotypical Barbie left. Good different.

The Kens have jobs now, proper jobs, not just ‘Beach’ or ‘Surf’. They’re not the most competent workers Barbieland has ever seen; they get too distracted trying on new overalls at the building site or throwing paper aeroplanes at each other in the offices. But they’re trying, and you have to admit, it’s pretty adorable seeing them so excited to head off to work each morning.

Barbieland has laughter now, true laughter, not perfect giggles but the kind that brings tears to your eyes and makes your belly hurt. It has crying, proper full-bodied sobs that rack through your chest, aching in a good way. And it has life. Fervent, overwhelming, painfully brilliant life.

It’s magnificent, even the really hard bits. Which there are a lot of.

Like losing someone you really, really love.

Stereotypical Barbie - Barbara, as she’s known now - had been your best friend. Your Dreamhouse was right next to hers, and every morning you’d float down to the streets together, where she’d hop into her little pink car and you’d mount your pony and ride into town. It was perfect, a sweet little life surrounded by pinkness and joy, and if you’re being completely honest with yourself, you miss it.

You bonded over how displaced you both felt. Neither of you really had a thing, a specific job to do. She was Stereotypical Barbie, and you’re Cowgirl Barbie. Destined to wear dusty denim and cowboy hats for all of eternity; not a doctor, not a physicist, not an astronaut and certainly not the president. Just a cowgirl.

And there aren’t even any cows.

That was what brought you and Stereotypical Barbie together; you both felt slightly unsure of the world, however perfect it may be, and you found friendship in that.

So when she left, that hurt. 

Because she found purpose.

Purpose in feeling, and knowing, and living.

Purpose in things you could only dream about. And what you hate the most is that she was right.

It feels good to hurt. It feels good to have that pain in your chest, that ache in your cheeks when you’re not quite done crying yet. That emptiness that fills the space where flowers had once bloomed.

It feels like shit to miss your friend, and it feels incredible to have loved someone so much that you miss them.

And that’s the beauty she brought to your life. To all the Barbies’ lives.

But it still goddamn hurts.

About as much as the strange thoughts of loneliness have hurt the past few weeks.

You’re never alone in Barbieland; there’s always someone there, a friend, a listening ear. A million other Barbies who genuinely care.

But the feeling is so strong, so heavy in your gut, that all the Barbies and Kens and Allens in the world can’t take it away.

Which only calls for one thing.

“Your friend had the same problem, you know,” Weird Barbie says, walking round you in circles like prey. You gulp; she’s significantly less ‘weird’ now, what with her fancy job at the Capital and the whole ‘awakened Barbies’ thing, but she certainly kept some habits that set you a little bit on edge.

“How do you mean?” You stutter, trying to keep up as she continues to stalk around you and make strange gestures.

“First came the depression-” she pulls down a presentation screen from god-knows where, one decorated with the typical Barbie anatomy and annotated with the same notes Weird Barbie is now recounting. She points to the head, ‘depression’ scribbled beside it, and stops in front of you.

“And then-” she moves again, rotating to the other side of the screen and pointing to the drawing’s legs. “-came the cellulite.”

She pauses, seemingly waiting for some big reaction, but you just stare. Sure, cellulite was feared back then, but almost every Barbie has it now, and it’s really no big deal. “...okay?” you posit, slightly more concerned as Weird Barbie’s face falls at your reply.

“Damn, I guess we really are doing things differently now.” Her surprise is dropped quickly, as she continues to explain what it means to be overcome with these awful feelings so quickly.

“In the end, sweetheart, there’s only one way to fix this.” She leans in uncomfortably close, making you gulp. “You gotta go to the real world.”

You had a feeling she’d say that. 

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

When you arrive in the real world, there’s really only one person you can go to. The one person you’ve missed more than anything.

She was your best friend, and yet standing here on the doorstep of an apartment that looks nothing like a Dreamhouse, you can’t help how nervous you feel.

She’d given all the Barbies her new address, in case any of them managed to sneak into the real world, so she mustn’t mind that you’re here. But she’ll be so different now, so human, and you’re still just a Barbie with a jaunty cowgirl outfit and a sunny disposition.

Your worries are immediately washed away when the door flings open, and before you can even see who it is, a pair of arms are tightly wrapped around your neck and you’re pulled in for a big, warm hug. But you know who it is, and you hug her back immediately, tears welling in your eyes as you finally hold your best friend again.

Barbara pulls back, holding your cheeks in her hands, almost like she didn’t think you were really there. “I can’t believe you’re here!” She grins, hugging you again with a giggle. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh, Barbara, I missed you too,” you cry, not wanting to let her go. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, and you finally relax your arms, taking in how much she’s changed. She isn’t wearing anything pink, or sparkly, but a white blouse and nude pants that look very professional. Very human. Very different.

You don’t reply to her question, unsure of what the answer even is, and that alone makes her worried. So she takes you by the hand and leads you into her apartment, one painted white with sweet pictures on the walls of her with Sasha and Gloria, and some other women you don’t recognise. It makes you a little jealous.

She leads you to the kitchen, sitting you on a bar stool and pouring tea for you both. You go to drink it, holding the cup away from your mouth and tipping it, but she quickly jumps up shouting “no!” and pulling the cup down.

She laughs, making you laugh nervously too, and explains you need to hold the cup to your lips and sip. “Are you sure?” you ask, staring down at the liquid and tentatively trying to drink it, the warmth on your tongue foreign but sweet. 

“Yep! That’s how we drink here. I know it’s weird but once you get used to it, it’s so good.”

You smile, putting down the cup and looking back at your friend. “Things are pretty different here, huh?”

Barbara smiles, nodding her head and swinging her legs where they hang from the stool. “Yep! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah, it is,” you reply, with a fraction of the excitement. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear, knocking your hat slightly which you quickly correct into place, acutely aware of yourself in the presence of someone who’s changed so much. “Do… do you ever miss us? The Barbies?”

She grimaces, making you regret asking as soon as the words leave your lips. Her eyebrows sink into concern, and she sets her tea down beside yours, taking your hand and squeezing it tightly.

“Every single day. Of course I miss you - I even miss the Kens!” You both giggle, and you’re reminded of how things were before. 

You have to admit, you almost asked your Ken to come with you, but he was having so much fun in Barbieland now that you couldn’t bring yourself to take him away from it.

“I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” Her eyes have welled up now, and guilt hits you like a truck.

“No, no, I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m so happy for you, truly.” You smile, and you know she knows you mean it. “I just… I feel so lonely. It’s like a big hole in my chest, all the time. No matter what I do, no matter how many girl’s nights and big blowout parties and days on the beach, I just feel lonely. And it’s even worse without you here.”

Barbara holds your hand tighter, and something you said seems to have caught her attention. “You mean you felt like this even before I left? Before the Kendom?”

You nod, sheepish, and her eyes squint in thought. Then, as if a lightbulb has gone off in her head, she gives you her trademark big white smile and excitedly shouts, “I know what you need to do!”

She jumps off her chair, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking LA. You stand there for a moment, taking in the view, the overwhelming sights and sounds of rushing traffic below you. It’s beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

“You need to find the little girl who’s playing with you,” Barbara whispers, watching your amazement. 

“Isn’t that what you did?” You ask, finally pulling your eyes away to face your friend. She nods, her smile just as bright and honest as ever, and it makes the idea of facing this big wide world seem a little less scary.

“I’ll come with you, we’ll go find her, and we’ll figure out what’s been making her feel so lonely.” 

“Will you really come with me?” 

You already know the answer; of course she will. She’s the kindest person you know. Of course, all the Barbies are the kindest people you know, but that’s a technicality you don’t feel like getting into right now.

“You know it,” she grins, and you can’t help but grin back as you think about what an adventure this is going to be.

“How will I know where to find her?” You ask, looking back through the window at the huge world on the other side of the glass. How could you possibly find your kid?

Barbie tugs you to face her, straightens your hat and looks directly into your eyes, making you focus. “You gotta be really calm, okay? Just close your eyes, clear your mind, and find her memories. And then try to figure out where she is. That’s how I found Sasha!’

You nod, not quite sure how this is going to work, if this is going to work. But you try anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to shush all the noise and confusion in your head, desperately searching for anything that could help you find your kid. You get nothing, ready to give up after a few minutes of emptiness, when suddenly - there it is, the faintest hint of a memory.

“Dad, can we have a movie night tonight?” Sarah asks, watching as Joel paces the room, frantically searching for his other shoe.

“Yeah, sweetheart, course,” he replies. She smiles, heading over to the TV stand and already searching for a film to watch, giggling as her Dad begins to lift up the couch cushions. 

She looks down, seeing the shoe hiding just behind the stand, and rolls her eyes as she picks it up and throws it at him. “How’d you find it?” He mutters, scoffing as she just laughs at him, though a matching grin is etching its way onto his lips.

He slides on the other shoe, grabbing his wallet and keys and heading over to give Sarah a kiss on the head. “When will you be home?” She asks, and he offers a guilty smile that doesn’t make her particularly hopeful.

“Soon as I can, Sarah. Around 8? 9 at the latest.” She nods, forcing a smile and letting him go, and Joel’s out the door in a flash with a final shout of “Love you, honey!” and a slam of the door.

The memory changes, then.

It’s nighttime, and Sarah lies alone on the couch, a movie playing that she doesn’t seem to be really watching. Her eyes flicker up to the mantlepiece, where the clock reads 10:13, and she sighs. 

Then she stands, traipsing into the hallway and towards the front door, where the key hangs in the lock. She turns it, unlocking the door and leaving the key on the sidetable, then picking up a piece of mail that had been left there.

“51 Mulberry Road

Travis County

Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Miller, we are writing to solicit your contracting services for our new development…”

Sarah groans, throwing the letter back on the table and muttering “more work, great.” She retreats upstairs, slamming the door behind her and climbing into bed…

You’re pulled out of the memory by Barbara’s voice, filled with excitement. “Can you see her? Do you know her name? Do you know where she is?”

“Sarah” you mumble, still dazed. “Sarah, her name’s Sarah.”

Barbara squeals, clapping her hands together before calming herself and urging you to continue. “And? Where is she?”

You concentrate, trying to remember what was written on the letter you saw. “Er… Texas. Yeah, she’s in Texas. Mulberry Road. Is that close?”

She pulls a face, a yeah… no kind of face, then grabs a big book from under her coffee table and flips it open. You watch in amazement as she scans the pages and pages of maps inside, until she shouts, “a-ha!”, pointing to a spot on a page titled ‘The United States of America’. “Here it is. We’ll need to fly there.”

A nervous excitement brews in your tummy, your eyes glued to the little spot on the map labelled Texas. The spot where Sarah lives, with her Dad. The place you’re destined to find.

“Oh, and don’t get freaked out… but men fly planes here.” Your head snaps up, confusion painting your face, and Barbara just nods at your reaction.

“Seriously?” You ask, wondering if she was just playing a prank. “Is… is that safe?”

She giggles, putting the book down and grabbing your hand. “Yep, there’s a lot to get used to here. You’ll see. Now come on, we need to pack our bags!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

And so here you are, on a flight to Texas, on your way to find Sarah and bring an end to her loneliness. 

Barbara tells you all about the real world. How different yet wonderful it is, how much there is to do and see and feel. She’s at university now, getting qualifications to be a psychologist and work with young girls who are struggling. It’s brilliant, but strange, you think - qualifications aren’t needed in Barbieland - anyone can just do anything. Well, the Barbies can. And the Kens really do try.

The journey is filled with new and exciting things, but it’s scattered with memories of Sarah and her dad that pop up in your mind at random. You see everything; their best moments, their worst, the times they’ve laughed and cried and screamed. 

You can see the first time she chose you. She was smaller, much smaller than she is in the more recent memories, and her Dad seemed friendlier, then.

“Alright, honey. Which one d’ya want?” Joel asks, smiling as Sarah’s eyes scan shelf after shelf of Barbies. 

“You should get this one,” he jokes, picking up a doll labelled ‘Builder Barbie’. “She’s just like your daddy!”

Sarah giggles, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “You’re not a builder, daddy! You’re a cont-ac-er.”

Joel’s heart warms, both at how much she loves his job and won’t accept a vague similarity, and her attempted pronunciation of the word ‘contractor’. 

“Well then, which one, babygirl?”

She spends a few more moments looking at each option, before her eyes widen, landing on one a little further away to the left. She stands up on her tippy-toes, grabbing the doll and admiring it, giddy.

“This one, Daddy! I want this one!” She shows him the doll, waving it in his face but not letting him take it, protective already. It’s a Cowgirl Barbie, one clothed in denim and brown leather, with cliche cowboy boots and a hat. 

“She’s just like you, Daddy.”

Joel pulls a face, looking back and forth between Sarah and the doll. “How in the hell is she like me?”

Sarah scowls, pointing to the cowboy hat and explaining, “she’s a cowgirl! And you’re a cowboy!” 

“I ain’t no cowboy” Joel retorts, shaking his head and leading Sarah over to the cashier’s desk. “When have you ever seen me in one of them hats, huh?”

Sarah giggles, itching to take the doll out of the box, and Joel knows she’ll do it the second he’s paid. “Maybe you can borrow hers, daddy, and be a proper cowboy.”

He rolls his eyes, though the smile hasn’t fallen from his face for even a second. He pays, watching with joy as Sarah scrambles to rip open the plastic, finally pulling out the doll and hugging it the whole way home while making up stories of ranches and horses and pistol duels - she was certainly her father’s daughter.

“Barbie? You there?” Barbara pulls you out of your thoughts, staring at you as you finally turn to look at her. 

“Sorry, I’m here. Just…”

“Keep getting memories, huh?” 

You nod, looking out the plane window and into the skies. She still seems concerned, but lets it go, returning to her magazine and letting you be with your thoughts. 

More memories swirl in your mind; you can see Sarah’s first days of middle school and high school, her most vulnerable moments of crying in her room and talking to you like you were the only one who’d listen, her relationship with her dad and how he’s become more and more distant over the years.

Sarah slams her bedroom door behind her, falling on the bed with a sigh. She sits back up, her eyes falling on the Cowgirl sat on the shelf across from her, growing dusty as she plays with it less and less.

She’s 14 now, too old for dolls really. And yet, that Barbie had been there with her through her toughest moments, and even now, it was comforting to have her there.

“Dad’s at work. Again.” She says, half to the doll, half to herself. “It sucks.”

She dives into her backpack, pulling out a small box and opening it up, the newly-polished watch inside glistening in the light from the window. 

She takes it out, delicately, and turns it around to see the engraved lettering on the back. 

‘No matter what, we have each other. I love you, Dad. From Sarah x’

She smiles, quickly placing the watch back in its box, not wanting to damage it before she could even give it to her Dad. “You think he’ll like it?” She asks the doll smiling at her from the shelf.

“I just… I just want him to know I love him. And that I know he doesn’t mean to be gone all the time.” 

She stands, picking the doll up from the shelf and brushing the dust away, carefully readjusting her little hat and smiling at the piece of her childhood. 

“I’ll give it to him tonight. If he ever comes home,” she sighs, lying down beside the Barbie and taking a nap, knowing she had a long wait ahead.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“Alright, here we are!” Barbara chimes, pulling up to the house you’d been looking for. 51 Mulberry Road. 

“Are you nervous?”

“Hell yeah I’m nervous,” you quip, the fear plainly stated in your wide eyes. What if she doesn’t like you? What if you can’t help her feel less lonely? What if this just doesn’t work?

“Look, I’ve been there,” she replies, knowing exactly how you feel. “You’ve gotta remember that you’re her Barbie. You’re her friend, and she’s yours. It’s all gonna work out. My only advice? Don’t expect her to thank you for making everything amazing for women. Trust me, it does not end well.”

You giggle, remembering the story of when she first met Sasha, and hope Sarah won’t be quite as mean. You feel a little better, and thank Barbara for her support, grateful to have your friend back.

“Alright, I’m gonna go and get a coffee. If you need anything, call me, okay?” She hands you the little flip phone she bought, having shown you how to make texts and calls on it to her iPhone. You nod, thanking her again and stepping out of the car, the nerves building up as you hear her drive away and you’re left alone in front of the house.

You take a deep breath, your boots clicking on the path as you make your way up to the door, supported by a big wooden patio and a bench out front. It reminds you of home a little; your western-themed Dreamhouse, clad with old wooden floors and southern-style windows.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you raise a hand and knock, waiting with baited breath before you hear footsteps on the other side and the door swings open.

And there she is. Sarah.

She’s a little older than she was in the most recent memories you saw, around 16 now. She’s tall, with a purple cardigan on and pretty blue jeans that you’re jealous of already. Her smile is bright, precious, and if you didn’t know better you’d think she was a Barbie herself.

“Can I help you?” She asks, looking you up and down with a slightly confused, but still polite expression. 

You stall, the introduction you’d prepared completely forgotten, your mouth just opening and closing like a fish out of water. Sarah’s expression becomes one of concern more than anything, and she reaches out a soft hand to touch your arm, making you jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” she pauses, looking you over again. “Sorry, do I… do I know you?”

You stumble again, trying to find the right words, and she must see how genuinely nervous you are because she searches behind you into the street, then pulls you inside and shuts the door. “Come on, you need something to drink.”

She leads you to the kitchen, a beautifully decorated but old fashioned room with porcelain tiles and wooden beams across the ceiling. You trace your fingers across the counter top, looking around in awe while Sarah pours you a glass of lemonade. 

Your eyes fall to the corner of the room, where her school bag sits, and a familiar-looking cowboy hat pokes out. You walk towards it without thinking and pull out the doll, admiring the little plastic version of yourself.

“Oh, that’s - that’s not what it looks like. I’m not… I don’t play with dolls anymore, obviously, I just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off, and you assume she’s embarrassed, but when you turn to face her you realise it’s not that at all. She’s staring at you, then the doll, then back at you, with a cocktail of confusion and realisation on her face. 

“You’re dressed… you look exactly like her. What -“ She’s cut off by the front door slamming shut, and a familiar voice shouting down the hall, “Sarah? I’m home.”

Her eyes widen, quickly looking for somewhere she to hide you, the stranger she’s invited in, panicking as her Dad’s footsteps get louder.

But it’s too late. Joel stands in the door frame, staring at you, then shooting Sarah a look that says, ‘the fuck is this?’

“Dad, I can explain-“ he cuts her off, staring you in the eye and taking a step towards you. He looks older than he did in your memories - not in the way that Sarah does, but in a tired way, like he’d worked a hundred years and counting. Grey curls wash over his head, matched by a silvery beard and sunken eyes, and for all the Kens you’ve known in your life, you don’t think you’ve met anyone as handsome as him.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks - no, demands, one arm protectively stretched in Sarah’s direction.

“I- I’m- Barbie. I’m Barbie.” You stutter, clutching the doll a little tighter in your hand. Joel’s face scrunches angrily, and he looks at Sarah again, who just shrugs.

“You’re fuckin’ what?” He asks, clearly unimpressed.

You panic, holding up the doll to your face, showing him the obvious similarities between you. The same clothes, same hairstyle, same eyes. 

“You know, Cowgirl Barbie. Sarah’s Barbie,” you explain, a little more confident now, hoping they’d accept your explanation.

Your hopes are quickly dashed as Joel asks Sarah, “do you know this clown?” 

His arms are clenched, and you try not to worry about what’s coming next.

“No, Dad, but-“

He cuts her off. “So you just invited this crazy person into our home?” 

He’s shouting now, and you recoil, remembering Barbara’s first experience meeting Sasha. You wonder if this is worse.

“Dad, don’t talk about her like that,” Sarah shouts back. It makes you feel at least a little better, but it’s too late. Joel’s incensed, shouting about stranger danger and how you’re probably an escapee from some mental asylum, how weird it is that you know what dolls she owns and how to dress like them. 

“- and you” he looks directly at you now, pointing. “You get the hell out of my home and you don’t speak to my daughter ever again, you hear me?”

Tears stream down your face as you nod, throwing the doll onto the counter and running past Sarah and Joel and out of the house. You can barely make it out the front door, stumbling against the columns on the patio, before making it just far enough onto the grass outside to stumble to your knees and let yourself cry properly.

That same, overwhelming loneliness fills you again, tearing deep into your chest and only adding to your pain. Your shoulders shake, and you try to remind yourself of what they teach you at Barbieland; crying is good, hurting is good. It means you’re alive.

But it really doesn’t feel good right now.

You can hear the faint sound of the door opening and closing, but you don’t really register it, not until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder.

You look behind you, meeting Sarah’s apologetic eyes, and you try to wipe your own of their flood of tears. 

“Oh no, I’m sorry, I must look horrible,” you laugh, though it’s forced.

Sarah smiles, sitting down in front of you, knees crossed. “I think you look beautiful.”

And that makes you really smile.

You giggle, pulling off your cowboy hat and setting it on the grass beside you. Your denim jacket feels a little hot now, too tight, but you try to ignore the feeling and focus on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Is it true? Are you really… her?” 

Sarah’s question is soft, like she doesn’t know quite which answer she wants. You only nod, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“You’re Barbie?” She asks again, and you can tell she’s expecting a reply this time.

“Cowgirl Barbie,” you answer, still only looking at your hands. 

“God, you know, when Stereotypical Barbie came here, she had such a good time. Mind you, that was in LA, so -“

Sarah cuts you off with a gasp. “Wait, that was real? I heard about that! It was all over Twitter - Barbie and Ken on roller skates in LA, Barbie in a pink cowboy outfit-“

“Yes!” You exclaim, excited - “she told me all about it! She chose the cowboy outfit ‘cos it reminded her of me, you know. We’re best friends.” 

You’re showing off a little now, but you don’t care - it feels good to talk, to be believed.

Sarah watches you in awe. “Wow. So this is, like, real. This is real? You’re Barbie. Where’s Ken?”

“Oh, he had to stay back at home. Well, he didn’t have to, he would’ve come if I asked him to. He’s really sweet. I just… I didn’t wanna be a burden.” You explain, grateful he hadn’t seen you crying like this now you think about it.

“But isn’t he, like, your boyfriend? I’m sure he wouldn't mind.” Sarah replies.

“Oh, he isn’t my boyfriend,” you giggle at the thought. “No, no, we don’t really do that in Barbieland. Everyone’s their own person and makes themselves happy, no need for boyfriends and girlfriends. Even the Kens!”

“Rad,” Sarah grins, liking the sound of Barbieland. “So… why are you here?”

You reply honestly, there’s no use in skirting around it anymore. “Well… I feel what you feel, Sarah. And when you’re sad, and lonely, I feel that too. That’s why I came, to help you feel better.”

“Oh.” It’s all she says.

“Why do you feel like that?” Your tears have stopped by now, your face left red and puffy. You try not to start up again as you watch her face twist at your question.

“Just… stuff. With my dad. He’s never here anymore, always at work. It used to be just me and him against the world, you know? And now it feels like… like it’s just me.”

You pout, rubbing a hand on her knee. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it, Sarah. You always have each other, just like the watch says.” 

You smile, trying to be as comforting as possible, but it’s quickly wiped away by the look of shock on her face. 

You’re about to ask her what’s the matter when a southern drawl sounds from behind you, “how do you know that?”

You turn, facing Joel who stands on the steps of the porch, a hand on the railing. Your nerves set in again immediately, and you turn in on yourself, trying not to cry.

“Um, the watch, the one from Sarah. That’s what it says, right?” You can see that very watch strapped to Joel’s wrist, the glass broken, and he brings his other hand to touch it. 

“No one else knows what’s written on that watch,” Sarah says, and you whip around to face her, “holy shit, this is really, really real, isn’t it? You’re her?”

You just nod, and she lets out a laugh, springing forward to hug you. You yelp in surprise but hug her back immediately, revelling in the feeling of wet grass hitting your back. Sarah pulls away, looking up at her Dad with pleading eyes, “come on Dad, you know this is real. She’s real. We have to let her stay.”

You sit up again, grabbing your hat and standing, facing Joel though your eyes stay trained on the floor. He’s silent for a long time, thinking, before he grunts and you can just about make out a whisper of “fine” as Sarah celebrates and leads you back into the house.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

You stay there a few days, mostly keeping out of Joel’s way. They set you up in the spare bedroom, but Sarah comes to get you most nights, and you stay up together having sleepovers and telling stories.

You tell her all about Barbieland, about the beautiful beaches and all-woman Supreme Court, the Dreamhouses and the perfectly blue skies. She tells you about her life, the latest drama at school, about Brad the boy who won’t leave her alone and Jenny, her best friend who definitely fancies Brad. It’s incredibly exciting, and you wonder why you never left for the real world sooner.

Barbara’s ecstatic for you, of course; she’s staying in a nearby hotel for as long as you need her there, you even plan to introduce her to Sarah soon.

You wake up one morning, covered in a duvet somewhere in the corner of Sarah’s room, a host of her other old toys laid out where she’d been explaining each one to you last night. You wondered if there’s a Thomas The Tank Engine Land, too.

There are voices downstairs, and for all the rules of politeness and social expectations you’ve learned, you can’t help but tiptoe to the top of the landing and listen in to the conversation. To make sure Sarah’s okay, more than anything.

“Oh come on, Dad. It’s just one day!” Sarah almost shouts, though it’s obvious she’s trying to keep her voice down. They both are.

“Sarah, I gotta go to work. How the hell am I meant to keep a walking-talking Barbie doll entertained for 7 hours, huh? You want me to talk about makeup and glitter?” Joel’s voice is thick and annoyed, though he’s noticeably gentler when he talks to her.

Sarah scoffs, and you can’t see her, but you know she’s rolling her eyes. “She’s more than that, Dad. She’s smart, and she’s caring. Just - just do this for me, okay? And as soon as I’m back from school, I’ll take her off your hands.”

You can’t see them, but you hear their footsteps walk a little closer to the stairwell. “Fine, fine. Whatever. You better go and wake her up then, cos I gotta leave in 20,” Joel resigns.

You see the top of Sarah’s head from your view between the bannisters, and quickly hurry back to her room and under the sheets. She enters, sitting beside your spot on the floor and whispering, “Barbie? Hey Barbie, wake up!”

You feign tiredness, lifting your head and smiling at the girl. “Oh hey, Sarah, good morning.”

She giggles, and you’re quickly aware of your bedhead, something you never experienced in Barbieland. She talks as you grab a brush and fix yourself up.

“So look, I gotta go to school today. But my Dad agreed to take you with him to work so you’re not on your own… is that okay?” 

She must see the slight panic in your eyes,  as she quickly scrambles to reassure you. 

“I know he was a bit of a hot head when you first met him, but he’s just… protective. But he’s sweet, really. Just give him a chance.”

You think about it for a moment. Barbara is still staying nearby, and you know she’d come and hang out with you while you wait for Sarah to come home if you asked. But then again, maybe it’d be good to spend some time with Joel/ It’s obvious that a lot of what brought you here comes down to their relationship, and if you can help to fix that even just a little bit, then your journey will have been worth it.

“Okay,” you answer, giving Sarah a small smile. She grins, standing up and grabbing her school bag before shouting over her shoulder as she leaves the room, “great! He’s going in 20 minutes… better get ready!” 

You gasp, jumping up from your little nest on the floor and searching through the duffel bag Barbara packed for you of outfits to wear, all western-themed of course.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Car rides with Joel are… awkward, to say the least. 

He drives in silence, no radio, just the slow drone of traffic outside echoing between you, whistling through the open windows.

His car is very different to the ones in Barbieland. It doesn’t have an open top, the seats are worn and rough to the touch. The smell of coffee and cigarettes hangs in the air, and though you’re not used to it, you still find it comforting. Safe.

You reach for the radio, looking for a tune to play and maybe even sing - you’re sure that’ll cheer him up. But he stops you, not hurting you at all but batting your hand away and finally taking his eyes off the road.

“Don’t touch that,” he grunts, and you shrink back in on yourself again. He recoils a little, like he’s trying to appear less aggressive, and refocuses on the road.

“Sorry,” you mutter, shy.

He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the window beside him and readjusting himself, clearly uncomfortable. Whether it’s you or just the way he’s sat, you don’t know.

“‘S fine,” he mutters, barely audible. You nod, unsure of what else to say after that. You’re not looking at him, though you can see his movements in the edge of your peripheral, and you’re certain you can see him glancing at you every couple of minutes.

He finally speaks again after a long span of silence. 

“So…” he starts, tentative. “Is it hard to get here? From- from Barbieland?”

You turn, though he isn’t facing you, eyes trained on the road. You keep looking at him anyway - this is progress at least.

“It’s pretty simple. First you drive, then you cycle, then take a boat, then a rocketship, then you stay in a campervan for a little while, then a snowmobile and voila! You’re rollerskating into LA.” You grin, recounting your adventure into the real world, happy to be able to share it with him. You’re not sure what it is about him, but there’s just something inside of you that’s desperate for him to get you. To care. 

Joel just grunts, rubbing his thumb and forefinger between his brows, and you’re worried for a second that he doesn’t believe you, again. But he doesn’t press, instead he seems to be thinking, and then he asks another question.

“How do you get back?”

“Gotta do all that in reverse,” you answer, giggling. You’re sure you can see the slightest pull of his lips, the hint of a smile, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You decide to try and engage him, let him talk. “Do you like what you do? For work?”

He just grunts again, and your shoulders sink, giving up. He doesn’t want to talk to you. 

You decide not to press him further, but you can see him continue to glance at you a few times out of the corner of your eye, and there must be something in the air because he sighs before talking, a vulnerability in his voice.

“I used to. My Dad did it, contracting. Used to take me and my brother out every weekend and show us the trade. And when I started my business, that was good. Things were good. Now…” he trails off with a sigh.

“Things aren’t good?” You ask, trying to be careful. Trying to encourage him. 

He nods. “Things are different, now. Busy. It’s a hard business.”

You don’t reply, not because you don’t want to, but because you’re not sure how. Joel doesn’t seem to mind. After a few moments, he pulls up at a red light, switching gears and finally looking at you properly. 

“What do you do? In Barbieland?”

“Cowgirl,” you reply, being the one to avoid his gaze now.

“Cowgirl?” He repeats, and you only nod, offering a small smile and waiting for his reaction.

“So is that, like, on a ranch?” 

He’s switching gears again, cruising through the now green light and continuing the drive, muttering something about ‘almost there’ as you arrive in an upscale neighbourhood, lined with huge houses and cars that even the Barbies don’t have.

You shrug, self conscious, but you answer him. You owe him that. He did it for you. 

“No, just… you know. I wear the hat, and the denim and the boots. And I just… cowgirl. That’s what I do.”

He nods, and for the first time since you met him, you’re not nervous about what he’ll say next. You feel comfortable with him, safe even, and you’re not sure what it is about this little drive that’s flipped that switch, but you think he might feel the same way.

“Does it pay well?” He asks, a playfulness in his tone that you haven’t seen in him before. It’s like he’s lit up over the course of your conversation.

You grin, meeting his eyes properly now, where he draws away for a moment at a time to check the road but lets his gaze fall back on you straight after. 

“Better than contracting,” you sass. You’re not sure where the cockiness comes from, whether you’re matching his tone or you just feel that comfortable with him, and for a moment you’re worried you’ve offended him with the joke.

But then he laughs.

It’s not hysterics, but it isn’t an amused ‘huff’ either. It’s like a giggle, a bright, giddy laugh that spreads across his face and makes his eyes light up like stars in the sky. It’s beautiful. It’s sweet.

You tell him as much.

“You have a pretty smile.”

He slows a little, his mouth quickly reigning in its smile and his chest no longer bubbling with that sweetness it had before. But he doesn’t look angry, or offended. He looks as though he’s not quite sure what to do. Like no one’s ever told him that before.

“Thank you,” he whispers, the words quickly blowing away with the wind through the open window. You smile in reply, and he watches, neither of you seeming to notice that he’s stopped the car and you’ve reached your destination. Neither of you move.

And then he says the sweetest words you’ve ever heard. 

“So do you.”

It’s gentle, mumbled so lowly you almost think he doesn’t want you to hear it, and yet it hits you in the chest like a lorry. 

You’ve been told that before, of course you have. You’re a Barbie. Whether it’s the other Barbies complementing one another, or the Kens trying to flirt, or Allen just being the nice guy he is, you’ve heard those words before. 

But you’ve never heard them like this, like they’re hard to say, but they need to be said anyway. 

It’s powerful.

You smile again, so does he. You stay in the car a little while longer, in silence again, but it’s a silence laced with comfort and feelings you don’t know how to label. Until he finally breaks the spell, climbing out of the car and helping you out on your side.

He spends the day showing you his work, how to plan builds, how to measure up wood and mark all the right places to cut it. You learn there’s a key named after Allen, and Joel snorts when you tell him how excited you are to let him know that. He even lets you hammer a few nails, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart flutter when he puts his arms around you to guide your movements, his breath in your ear.

And things are good after that day. Really good.

The three of you spend time together, as much as you can, almost like a family. You’ve never experienced family before, true family, but when you’re sat on the sofa with Sarah on a cushion on the floor and Joel to your side, just out of reach, you wonder if this is what it means to be home.

Of course, you quickly understand what Sarah means when she says she’s lonely. You know exactly where that feeling in your chest is coming from, because the times he’s with you are so fleeting, so far and few inbetween, that it feels like gold dust when you have him and like a black hole when you don’t.

And it’s only been a week before you realise just what it means, these feelings, and how they’re not like anything you’ve felt before.

Sarah reads you like a book, cornering you one day as you play dress up in her room. 

“So, you like my Dad?” She asks, a knowing smirk already painted on her lips.

You splutter for a moment, trying to think of a rebuttal, but you give up because you know she has you nailed down. You know she knows.

“Is it that obvious?” You wince, making her grin spread even further. 

“Only, like, all the time,” she laughs, and you flip down on the bed dramatically, making her laugh more. “You know he likes you too, right?”

You sit up again in a flash, eyes wide and searching hers. She raises a brow as you stare, your mind racing - she wouldn’t joke about that, would she? “How do you know?” You ask.

She rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside you on the bed. “Oh come on, man. It’s so obvious. He always talks about you, Barbie said this, Barbie did that’.” She mocks his deep southern drawl, making you giggle. “And he’s always looking at you.”

You blush - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed. You suppose a part of you just never let yourself believe he could feel the same way.

“What do you think I should do?” You’re nervous now, unsure of yourself. Unsure if this is real.

Sarah smiles, a cheeky sort of grin that doesn’t make you feel particularly at ease, and pats your knee with her hand. “Leave it with me.”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

She calls you down that night, late, not long after Joel came home from work. You switch off the documentary you were watching, something about the animal kingdom, one that amazed you with all the creatures that walk the earth around you. 

You tiptoe down the stairs, calling out Sarah’s name when you can’t find her in the front room, confused. You hear her again, distantly, like she’s outside, and you follow the sound through the kitchen and out the back door, where you’re greeted with the alluring smell of a sizzling barbecue.

“What is this?” You ask, stepping fully outside and taking in the scene. The backyard, usually overgrown and unkept, is littered with fairylights that wrap around the patio columns and line the fence right down to the end. The Miller’s barbecue is fired up, with an array of vegetable skewers and sausages and burgers cooking on top, Sarah proudly stood beside it in her apron while Joel watches, concerned.

Joel. He’s sat at the little table she’s put together, a round glass one with mismatched chairs on either side. He’s dressed up - his hair looks neater than usual, like he’s put extra care into styling it properly. His shirt isn’t plaid, or denim; it’s a light blue colour that matches the brown of his eyes so wonderfully. He looks nervous.

“Hi,” he says, gentle and soft. Your eyes must be wide and confused, because he doesn’t say anything else, just looks at Sarah for support. She rolls her eyes - again - and puts down the tongs she’d been using to flip the burgers. 

“You two are so boring pining over each other. So, I’ve set up a date!” She grins, turning back to the food without a care in the world.

You nod, taking another step forward, looking back toward Joel and not bothering to fight the smile that spreads on your face. 

He doesn’t fight his, either. 

You reach out for the chair opposite him, but before you can, he’s standing up and pulling it out for you, his eyes meeting yours.

Not one of the Kens have ever pulled out a seat for you, you think, thanking Joel and sitting on the little chair. He returns to his own seat, clearing his throat and pouring you a drink; red wine, a new favourite of yours since he introduced you to it. 

Sarah plates up the food, setting it down in front of you in a dramatic waiter-style fashion. 

“You’re certainly my daughter, huh?” Joel asks, pride in his eyes as he looks at the food, which you have to admit looks pretty damn good.

“The student has become the master,” she quips, and your heart melts at the sweet moment between the two. 

“Now, you two enjoy. I’ll be in my room. If you need anything… get it yourself. The kitchen is literally right there.”

You and Joel roll your eyes as Sarah bows out, laughing at her own jokes and giving a final wave as she heads into the house, leaving you both alone.

“So,” you begin, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Joel mimics, though you don’t think he plans to say anything after that. He’s not one to initiate conversation.

But then again, people can change. 

“You look really nice,” he says, his eyes so heavy set on you that it makes you feel flush. You look down, at the old baggy top you’re wearing over grey sweats, and you’re suddenly self conscious compared to his nice shirt and carefully-put hair.

“I don’t,” you reply, embarrassed. “I look like a mess.”

He interjects immediately. “No. You don’t. How could you? I mean you’re literally - you’re -“ he can’t find his words.

You finish the sentence for him. “A Barbie.”

“Yeah.”

You’re not sure why it makes you feel the way that it does. Sad. Like you’re not quite real to him, a novelty. He sighs, and for all the time you’ve spent with him by now, you can’t read what’s going on behind the man’s eyes at all.

You sit in silence for a short while, enjoying Sarah’s food, drinking wine. There’s something hanging in the air, heavy and strange, and neither of you know how to address it.

It surprises you when Joel finally breaks the silence again. “Do you miss home?” He asks, pouring you another glass.

You think for a moment. You answer honestly. “I don’t know.” His eyebrow quirks, motioning for you to continue.

“There was a time when I’d have never even dreamed of leaving Barbieland. When I didn’t want anything to change. But things are different now, since Ster- since Barbara left. Everyone thinks differently, feels differently. It’s a very different place. And suddenly everything that made me love Barbieland doesn’t matter to me anymore. The perfect wardrobe, the perfect house, the perfect life. None of that matters. It’s the things here, in this world, that matter.”

“What things?” Joel asks, and it’s only now that you notice his hand has migrated across the table, holding your much smaller one. You wrap your fingers around his, revelling in the small squeeze he gives you, fighting back a smile.

You’re staring at your interlocked hands when you answer. “Family. Purpose.” 

You look at him. “Love.”

He breathes out, like he’s letting something go, something that made him scared but doesn’t anymore. You squeeze his hand.

The rest of the night goes smoothly. It’s sweet, comfortable. It’s nice. 

Until you put your foot in it.

“Do you still feel lonely?” Joel asks, the buzz of red wine making his drawl even heavier.

You smile, glossy eyes doting on him, hands still intertwined. “Well, I felt lonely because Sarah felt lonely. So… no. I feel good.”

Joel frowns, his head tilts. “Do you know why she felt like that?”

You’re not sure how to approach this with him. It’s something you’ve thought about, pondered for days, turned over and over in your mind with no good resolution.

You know exactly why she felt like that. She told you as much.

My Dad’s never here. He’s always away, working. I don’t see him.

But you also know it’s a truth he won’t accept. Not easily, at least.

“Well,” you begin, treading lightly. “I think she just… misses you, Joel. Misses her Dad.”

He’s confused. He pulls away from you, his grip on your hand loosens. “But I’m here.” It’s an assertion, challenging your suggestion.

“I know, I know. But you’re not… you’re not here. You come home from work late, you’re tired, you go to bed. You wake up and before we can even say ‘good morning’ you’re out the door again, going to work.”

His jaw flickers, in that same way it did when you first met. He’s angry. 

“I do what i have to do to support my family,” he grumbles, fully retracting his hand now. You feel the loss of his touch instantly, in your heart. 

That same loneliness sets in again, but it’s not Sarah’s anymore. No, it belongs solely, wholly, to you.

You try to placate him. “I know, Joel, I know. I get it. I just -”

“Just what?” He interrupts you, and you pause, scared to speak. Scared to mess this up.

“She needs you to talk to her. She needs you to listen to her. She needs you to hold her and let her know she’s not alone. She doesn’t see that right now, Joel.”

He doesn’t reply, just stares into space, arms folded. Guarded.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“‘That how it works in Barbieland? Everyone gets what they want, everyone’s happy?” He asks, agitated.

You shake your head. “No, Joel, I-”

“‘Cos that’s not how the real world works, sweetheart. Everythin’ ain’t perfect. The trees ain’t made of cotton fuckin’ candy.” He sneers, mocking you, and the words pierce through you like knives.

“And I ain’t taking parenting advice from no Barbie doll.” 

That really, really hurts.

And it makes you angry, because for all your faults and weaknesses, being a Barbie certainly isn’t one of them.

“Why are you being so defensive?” You ask, your tone rising to match his. “You know I'm right. All that girl wants is her Dad, not a stranger who’s barely there, not a ghost that puts food on the table but won’t even come home on time for her. She wants her Dad, Joel.”

He stands, slamming his palms on the glass with so much force you fear it’ll shatter. He doesn’t shout, but his words are sharp, pointed, and they land exactly where he intended them to.

“You have no idea what it’s like. You’re stuck in your fantasy world, where everything’s pink, but you haven’t got a clue what it’s like to live in the real world. So why don’t you head back to your special Barbieland and leave the actual living, the hard parts, to the rest of us, huh?”

Tears threaten to spill on your cheeks, your eyes burning from the strain of holding them back. “Joel, you don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do. Just… just get out of my house.” 

He walks away from the table, crossing his arms and facing away from you, staring out into the night. You nod, to yourself if no one else, breaking your strength as a sob racks through your body. You clasp a shaking hand to your mouth, not wanting him to hear you, but you see the way his shoulders clench. He heard. 

He doesn’t react further, though. Doesn’t turn. Doesn’t make sure you’re okay.

So you do what he said. You leave.

You stalk past Sarah, wiping away the onslaught of tears that have taken hold now, ignoring her as she shouts between you and Joel. “Guys? What’s going on?”

She doesn't follow you upstairs, choosing to give you space and speak to her Dad instead, you think. You text Barbara, asking her to pick you up, and shove your clothes into your bag as quickly as you can in spite of your blurred vision and the messy hair that covers your face. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been, you’d have only thought seconds if you didn’t know Barbara’s hotel was at least 10 minutes away, but you hear her beep the horn from outside and follows its direction.

Sarah’s waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You look down the hall, where Joel sits at the kitchen counter, arms still folded and head down.

“Please,” Sarah begs, “don’t go.” She’s crying, and it makes your heart hurt more.

“I have to.” 

You try to move past her, but she stops you, blocking the way with her body. “Sarah, I have to,” you repeat, choking on your own sobs.

“Why?” She shouts, hot tears staining her face. “My Dad told me what happened. You’re right. He’s wrong, he’s always wrong. He’s never here, but you are, and now you’re leaving me like everyone else. Like my Mom.”

Your nose scrunches. More tears fall. Your chest hurts. “I’m not your Mom, Sarah. And your Dad… he loves you. He loves you so much. Promise me you’ll remember that, okay? He loves you. I love you.”

She doesn’t stop you when you try to leave again. You all but run out the door, the once comfortable night air now painful as it hits your wet cheeks, ice cold. Barbara looks at you with more concern than you’ve seen her with before, more than when she discovered the Mojo Dojo Casa Houses, but you say nothing as you get in the car. You just stare straight ahead, and she drives.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

“I’m so sorry, Barbie. I never thought it’d end like this.”

Barbara’s holding your hands, reluctant to let go. You don’t know when you’ll see her again. “It’s not your fault,” you reply, and it’s true. It’s not her fault. It’s yours.

“And it isn’t yours, Barbie,” she retorts, like she can read your mind. You just nod, unconvincing, but she doesn’t push it.

You hug her, for the millionth time since she took you home from Joel and Sarah’s house, since she flew back to LA with you. And now here you are, at Venice Beach with your roller skates on, going back to the place you’ve always called home.

So why does it feel like you’re going anywhere but?

“Thank you for everything, Barbara. I mean it.” You pull back, wiping a tear from her cheek and smiling the best you can, your own tears rolling down your face like the skaters behind you.

She smiles back, and though she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t need to. You know she loves you. You know she’ll miss you.

And with that, you pull away, pushing on each skate until you’re rolling away from the real world and back into your own. Back where you belong, where you’re supposed to be. Where you’re actually wanted.

There are people pointing, laughing at you as you skate past them, but you don’t care. You haven’t cared about anything since last night.

You can see the snowscape ahead, the next part of your journey. Your next step towards Barbieland and a world of pink perfection.

A world that isn’t the same to you now.

You’re nearly there, about to switch skates for the snowmobile, when a familiar, desperate voice comes from behind you.

“Barbie! Barbie, wait!”

You brake, skates screeching on the ground, as you turn to search for him in the crowd.

And there he is, Joel, clinging to a ramp on the left side of the park with the most ridiculous pair of neon green roller skates you’ve ever seen.

“Joel?” You call, immediately rolling over to him when you realise how much he’s struggling. If you weren’t so filled with the joy of seeing him here, you’d laugh at the state he’s in; eyes wide and legs falling beneath him, clearly not used to roller skating. “What are you doing here?”

“I- I wanted to- jesus, if I could just stand up-” You giggle, and he shoots you a look, which just makes you laugh harder. You help him up, laying a gentle hand on his chest as he nearly falls again, your other hand clinging to his waist as he finally finds his balance.

He’s blushing, embarrassed, but there’s something else in his eyes as they finally settle on you and he sighs. “Barbie, I’m so sorry.”

You’re not sure where to look. At him, at your hands, at those ridiculous roller skates he’s wearing. Of course, you can’t pull your eyes from him, anyway.

“It’s - it’s okay. You were right anyway, I’m not-”

“No, no,” he interrupts, placing both hands on your cheeks and quickly stumbling as he loses his balance again without the support of the rail. You hold him, giggling as he almost brings you both down, though you manage to keep him upright and he laughs right there with you.

“Jesus, this is embarrassing,” he finally huffs, and your head falls against his chest. When you raise it again, he’s already looking at you, with those big brown eyes that you never want to forget.

“I wasn’t right. I was an asshole. A huge, insecure asshole.” You try to shake your head, to disagree, but he doesn’t let you. “Just let me say this,” he begs. You let him.

“You were right. I haven’t been there for her. I haven’t been the Dad she needs me to be. I’m just… I’m just scared. Of not being good enough. Of letting her down. So I work, and come home late, and leave early, and I convince myself it’s the right thing to do. But I’m hurting her. And I hurt you.”

There’s pain in his eyes, and it pains you as if they were your own. 

“I haven’t seen Sarah this happy in a long time,” he continues, resting a hand on your cheek again, carefully this time. “Barbie, I haven’t been this happy in a long time.”

You don’t know what to say. You take your hand from his waist, tentative, making sure the other one is stable on his chest. You place it over his where it rests on your cheek, folding your fingers around his own, and turning to press a gentle kiss into his palm. He mumbles something, you don’t hear what, but from the look in his eyes you think you know.

“Don’t go,” he begs. “Don’t - don’t go back there. I want you here. You belong here.”

You look into his eyes. You know he means it. 

And so you do the only thing that makes any sense in this moment. 

You kiss him.

You’re careful to keep him upright, but he seems to have stopped caring about that; instead both hands are on you again, frantic, holding you tight like he never wants to lose you again.

When you finally break the kiss, neither of you pull away from one another, your foreheads connected and breaths intertwined. 

“Okay,” you gasp, pulling on his shirt. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

Joel closes his eyes again, sighing in relief as you finally release your other hand, touching it to his neck and feeling the rapid pulse that beats against it. You’re holding one another so closely, so tightly, that there’s no way he can fall now.

“You’ll come back to Texas?” He asks, like he still doesn’t quite believe you.

You nod again, giggling at the joy that spreads on his face, though it’s quickly muffled when he kisses you again. And again, and again and again until you’re breathless and sweaty and no longer sure which of you needs help staying upright the most.

You help him turn, wrapping your arms around his waist and supporting him as you try to make your way back across the park, and only then do you see Barbara and Sarah stood to the sidelines, watching, smiling.

You realise Sarah has her phone out, pointed at her Dad, and you’re pretty sure Joel sees it too but before he can say anything, he slips again and falls flat on his bum on the floor, bringing you right down with him.

You gasp, cushioned by his chest and his protective arms around you, laughing hysterically as he groans and sits up. You watch as his face turns from pain into anger, his eyes fixated on something ahead, and you think you know what it is-

“Sarah! Delete that video right now!”

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Tag list: @vickie5446 @skysmiller @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @letmehavemyfictionalmen

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x barbie!reader #poeticbarnes writes #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #barbie #barbie movie

[mmmairon]

Hi mairon! I love the self insert comfort you did it was so cute! Would you be able to make some more? Possibly diluc taking care of someone like the girl you did in the last one — maybe putting them to bed because I’m suffering w my insomnia right now 😅 if you can’t dw!

oh, to be tucked snugly into bed by Diluc Ragnvindr

#insomnia is the worst i’m so sorry anon #and it’s like the most frustrating thing in the world #there is a part in my menstrual cycle where i just cannot sleep 🗿 i feel actually insane whenever it comes around #i hope you are sleeping better now! please take care 🥺❤️ #i’m such a sucker for hurt comfort man #diluc is walking around the bed and getting snuggled into his side after this #before my dad passed away he would tuck me in bed every night #yes even when i was 17 #he would grab my blankets just like diluc is and use his weight to push me into my comforter lol #and then ask if i’m snug as a bug yet hdhhf #hurt/comfort #diluc x reader #diluc x yn #diluc #my art #asks #genshin impact #anon #tagging this as awealuc #because it is #atp #awealuc #genshin #diluc ragnvindr #diluc fanart

[cassyxox]

I’m so obsessed with the concept of bbf!ellie I had to make a little post..heavily inspired from a post by @clearheartgreyflowers

Imagine bbf!ellie teaching you how to play guitar..18+

ur back pressed against her front..her fingers guiding ur’s to different strings. she would so tease you. letting out sweet little praises.

“see?..your gettin’ the hang of it..”

“ur doing so good I’m-…kinda surprised” she chuckled. making ur neck shiver. her face angled around you. watching from below.

you barely could even function with the way ellie was praising you everytime u did good.

but when u didn’t..she would grip ur wrist. rather softly. letting out a little “tsk tsk tsk” you on the other hand breathing out a small “ahh..” brows furrowed from the grip she had on u.

“wrong string babe..”

you looked back at her. “Im-..this is so hard”

“let me try again?..pleasee?”

studying her zoned out expression. you couldn’t tell what she was thinking. but then a smirk rose upon her freckled pretty face. green eyes back on yours. her right hand let go of your wrist. the ache slowly going away.

“how bout this?..” she spoke. wetting her lips. suddenly the feeling of her back non comforting anymore. she turned around facing you fully. pulling the guitar out of ur shaky arms.

“ellie what are you-“ you tried but she finished. “how about we play a little game?..” u rolled ur eyes.

what game could she possibly wanna play.

u scoffed. “ellie..we’re not 12 what are you saying?” but in the back of ur mind u were so nervous.

Ellie was a lot. well her mouth was. always leaving u in awe..whenever u were around her and your brother.

Like that one time where u were laying in bed. thinking about what ellie meant earlier when u sent a pic of you in a bikini to the gc with ur brother and her in it.

her response being a “yea I would..”

ur brother’s a short “ellie dude..chill fr”

whenever u had tried asking him later that night what she meant. he had brushed u off with a quick “nothing.”

leaving u to wonder in ur own thoughts all night.

but now..it was just you and her. in ur room.

ellie’s voice pulling u out of the daze. “I’m saying that if you—you know mess up..you have to do something for me..” u giggled. “uhh like what exactly?”

does she want like a hug or something?

“give me a kiss..on the lips.” u laughed even louder. “ellie ur not..being serious right?”

was she?

she smirked. “oh I’m being super serious (y/n)..or are you..”

she looked around the room. making a frightened expression.

“..scared?” u rolled ur eyes at her gesture. “uh..no it’s just a little strange..” u softly muttered out. looking everywhere but at her.

taking a glance at ur ring finger. then back up at her.

being met with a flirty smile? oh ellie…

“kay well..don’t make it strange—just think of it as a thank you for showing me how to play ur guitar kiss..you know?” she spoke eyeing the way ur lips were halfway open.

She just wanted to stick her-

“ok whatever.. I’ll do it” crossing ur arms you made eye contact with ellie. the smile on her face never faltering.

“alright..cmere” she grabbed her guitar watching u get situated very closely in front of her. your jeans scratching against hers.

she gave u her guitar. basically pushing it into ur arms.

“what do I do?..” questioning her antics. she smirked. a little pitch in her voice. “play me what I showed u earlier—the first part..small one.”

she’s doing this on purpose. u barely even remember the right strings. u were so focused on her fingers.

“ellie.” “just uhh—do it” her smile faltered.

“geez okay..” u muttered. rolling ur eyes. ur fingers gripped the strings. u slowly strummed trying so desperately to flick the right strings. u were sounding pretty good until..

“wrong string” u stopped.

“ellie that didn’t eve-“ “-it was the wrong string” she spoke quickly her voice never faltered.

“whatever..” u huffed pushing her guitar to the floor. “sooo..” u heard her giggle. “what about that kiss yea?” she really wanted a kiss.

“ellie can’t we just..hug or something?” u pleaded. her eyes boring into urs. “no u agreed to it so you kinda have to” she expressed. shrugging her shoulders. u groaned moving closer to her.

she had that stupid weird smile on her face.

“on the lips?” “yes (y/n)..” u sighed. leaning into her but she moved back. “ah ah ah..on my lap.”

u have got to be kidding me.

“ellie that’s so stupi-“ “—ur making this take way longer than it has to..cmon.” she groaned pulling u on top of her by ur hips.

why were u internally shaking.

“nice seat right” ellie teased. “oh my-shutup” she tapped ur hip with her finger patiently waiting. u sighed. leaning into her but this time she didn’t pull back. the warmth of her lips meeting urs. she groaned loudly but was muttered by your mouth. her grip on your hip tightened.

U were in a daze before u pulled back. lips wet from her warm ones. she patted ur hip.

“see..wasn’t so hard was it?” her raspy voice filling the now quiet room.

u shook ur head. trying to seem unfazed.

“guess not..” u spoke. moving from ur place on her lap. “soo..” “pick it back up we’re not done..” ellie said. her lips were plump.

her neck feeling hot for some reason.

u groaned. she stiffened. feeling rather flushed. thinking of her next demand. she really wanted to play with u.

“If u mess up this time u have to give me a kiss on the neck.. yea?” She tried to sound tall and proud. but the shakiness in her voice was heard.

u scoffed. “ellie cmon..what are you doing..” questioning her antics. “just playing a little game..why are you making this into something it doesn’t have to be”

she’s just playing a game. It’s not that serious. She’s just messing with me like she always does. u thought. your just reading to much into it.

“fine..” “okay then”

..2 minutes later..

“wrong string”

“ur so annoying-” “—what was that?” she grabbed the guitar pulling it away. “nothing..” u sighed. crawling toward her.

I can’t believe I’m doing this. u thought to urself. slowly angling ur head towards her neck..

ur breath hitting the pale flesh making her softly groan out. “don’t wet ur pants now..” u joked. “shutu-“ her raspy voice getting cut off by the feel of ur lips on her lonely neck. the feel of warmth suffocating her. u leaned in even closer. Tongue tracing over her skin. “ohh yea..” she softly spoke.

u inched back. looking at the little mark u left.

“so pretty..” u gazed up at her. a little smile on ur face.

“Imagine what my brothers gonna say” u laughed quietly. “yea imagine..” nervousness in her voice as she spoke. “you okay ellie?..was that to much?”

“no pick it back up.”

u were shocked with her next demand she wanted. “uhh— you have to kiss my stomach..o—on ur belly looking up at me.”

kinky.

it wasn’t surprising when u messed up again. maybe u we’re doing it on purpose. the whole ordeal was awkward and another feeling you couldn’t quiet think of. Ellie smiled down at you with such a heavy grin.

she wouldn’t fully admit it. but the sight of u on ur stomach touching her in such a way. was making her forget this was just a..game?

yes a game. she kept repeating in her head.

the game kept going. Ellie wanting u to kiss random places on her. until it got to the last one.

U were so close to finishing the whole piece. but ur stupid finger messed everything up.

“wrong string.” oh god.

u sat patiently waiting for her demand. but u didn’t think she would be this upfront.

“Put ur hand in my boxers..” ur eyes grew wide. ur fingers dug into ur hand. “el..”

“do it.” her jaw clenched. ur breathing was ragged. frantic. u could feel ur heartbeat out of ur chest..

u slowly approached ellie. how was she so calm?

u moved ur wrist from ur side. moving way to slow for her liking. “cmon unbutton em..s’not that hard” she leaned back on her elbows. giving space between her thighs.

u couldn’t even look at her. just so focused on getting her buttons undone.

once u finally did. Ellie pulled ur wrist under her dark jeans. ur hand was met with..was that..

“You feel that?..now take them off.”

oh this was gonna be a long night.

pics @elliesgalaxy🙏

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams smut #the last of us #tlou imagines #ellie tlou #ellie x you #tlou2 #ellie williams imagine #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x dina #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble #tlou part 2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou 2 #ellie williams x y/n #ellie x yn #tlou fic #ellie #ellie x fem reader #lesbian

[aouiaa]

Gymrat! Abby hcs

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who wakes up at six in the morning, just to shower and go to the gym.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s loud getting ready in the morning even when she tries so hard to not be.

With a groan, you begin to stirr in bed from the blender being turnt on.

You already know who it is—Abby and her little fucking protein shakes.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby whose protein shake recipes actually hit.

You couldn’t sleep, even after the blender was long turnt off, and the fact you closed your eyes to desperately fall back to sleep. But you accepted failure as the outcome and get out of bed.

Trudging out the bedroom and into the kitchen with a frown on your face. You’re met with smiling Abby as she just finishes downing her drink.

Her hair is in much better shape than yours. In her infamous braid, work out clothes, and when she sees you, her smile morphes into an “o” shape, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You roll your eyes at the obvious question and waddle past her grumbling something about…protein shakes?

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who makes you try her protein shakes and waits like this. And who’s visibly happy when you hum in approval. And who’s worried when you don’t, always asking, “What does it need?”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who does everything in her power to be quiet. Even once tried looking up ways to sound proof the room, but realized how expensive it was. Should’ve seen the big frown on her face staring down at her phone. Poor girl… :(

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who has two alarms one five minutes before her actual alarm.

And why would Gymrat! Abby has this second secretive alarm? It’s to have those five minutes to cuddle you.

You remember the first time it happened. You jolt awake to the sound of her alarm going off to which she quickly turnt off and turn on her side, wrapping her beefy arms around you, pulling you to her chest.

A groan escapes your lips to which Abby presses light kisses to your neck, “I know, sorry, bae.” she whisper in your ear. And it still shocks Abby to this day that you haven’t caught on. Maybe because you’re just a big sleepyhead. Her words…

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who has multiple names for you when she does wake you up by accident.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

“Hey, beautiful.”

“Hey, sunshine.”

All with a big stupid smile on her face.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who brings you flowers time to time.

“Awe, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for my girl.”

“Wait…” you trail off, and stop sniffing the flowers. “Orchids? Wait, is this to make up for waking me up today?”

“Uhm, what? No? I can’t get my girl some flowers?” she says nervously, scratching the back of her head.

Gymrat! Abby who mostly did buy them to make up for waking you up, but also brought them for the beautifulest girl in the world.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who doesn’t let you come near her when she’s back from the gym, and who is very very dramatic about it.

You’re sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when the front door opens to reveal a very sweaty Abby. Instinctually, you get up and greet her with a kiss and hug or at least try to.

You’re not met with requited love instead a squeal. You open your eyes and laugh at the sound, to see abby moving back, dropping her gym bag.

“No touching or…kissing.” she says “kissing” in a disappointed tone, “Until I’ve showered!”

You roll your eyes at the reprimand, “Oh cmon, I’ve smelt you. You don’t even stink…that bad.” You attempt walk to toward her again, but she skips back—almost bumping into your favorite vase—with another squeal, “Y/n! I’m being serious!”

“And I am too!”

In the end, she practically ran into the bathroom, leaving you in the hallway with a pout which she later kissed away after her shower of course.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who actually invites you to the gym with her, but you can’t even workout. Instead watch the work out.

(See what I did there?)

You watch her do bench presses, and with every lift comes a grunt with it.

You watch from the sidelines—basically being her water girl at this point—as she finishes her reps.

“Thanks bae.” she says, out of breath as she grabs the water from your hand.

You don’t even respond back, just with a stupid giddy smile on your face as you stare down at her, wondering how are you supposed to work out when she’s here?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s basically your personal trainer when you do work out. Cheering you on and helping you only when necessary.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who secretly hopes you start coming to the gym with her more often. She always enjoys the company especially from you.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby being completely different towards you and her friends at the gym. With you, she’s so calm and sweet. But with her friends she’s so energetic and always challenging her friend Manny to some pull-up contest to prove something about being stronger?

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big baby when she has her resting days, always wanting cuddles and massages.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who whines and holds you down when you try to get up.

“Abby! I neee to pee!”

“Nooo, five more minutes.” she groans before stuffing her face into your chest.

“Fine, five more minutes.”

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who calls out for you when she does finally let you pee. You constantly have to say, “I’m coming!” or “One second!” like a mother reassuring their wailing offspring that they’re coming with their bottle.

Imaging Gymrat! Abby who’s fyp whether on instagram or tiktok is filled with gym videos, or tips on new proteins recipes.

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who’s a big foodie!

Imagining Gymrat! Abby who was full on laughing when on Christmas when she got a blender with a protective sound proof shield on it.

“Holy shit, bae. You really got me one!” she says in between laughter while holding the blender in hand.

You can barely hold in your laughter as you nod, “Yup, now you can’t wake me up.”

“Awee.” She says, sounding bummed out.

Gymrat! Abby who does love the gym, but loves her girlfriend more.

How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.

a/n: Onward to Dina hcs!

Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld @marsworlddd, @bready101

#𝐘ᱹ writes ✐ᝰ #Gymrat! Abby #abby anderson hcs #abby headcanons #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x yn #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfic #abby fanfiction #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson tlou #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fluff #the last of us angst #the last of us x you #the last of us x y/n #the last of us x reader #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #abby the last of us #lesbian #wlw

[ellieanddinacanlitstabme]

Random pics of hot chicks 🐥🔥

#tlou #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams smut #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #ellie x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby x reader #dina tlou #dina x reader #dina woodward #dina nolastname #dina x fem reader #dina x yn #dina x you #ellie x dina #ellabs #ellie headcanons #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou2 #tlou 2

[eyeforlee]

비오는 rain . ๑ 𝐫ainy 𝐧ights 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 park sunghoon

❝ c/w . ๑ gn!reader, term 'beautiful' used (1), soft fluff, lmk if there more ❞ "　　₊ 𝐞's 𝐧otes . . . yay penguin ^_^ also sorry for the short releases, exams r so hard >:/

you roll around in your shared bed with your boyfriend, eyes closed, trying to find his familiar warmth at the other side of the bed.

''hoon...'' you whisper, opening your eyes, but being greeted with his figure against the bright bathroom lights, messy bed hair. ''hmm?'' he hums turning to face you snuggled in blankets.

''go back to sleep,'' he says, taking off his shirt and hanging it on a chair's arms. ''why are you up?'' you ask, your voice faintly giving out. ''nothing. the rain's pretty loud tonight.'' he says, shutting off the bathroom light.

your half-open eyes drift to your window, gleaming with the moonlight, while droplets of water gather on the glass. ''mmyeah...'' not bothering to pay attention to the loud prickles of liquid.

sunghoon opens the blankets to let himself in, getting comfortable in bed. ''what time is it?'' you mumble, sunghoon extends his hand to the nightstand, grabbing his phone.

a bright light comes from his side of the bed, your eyes shut close. hoon giggles, putting his free hand on your head, and petting your head. ''it's 2:06 am.'' he says, finally shutting down his phone for the night.

you open your eyes, seeing his face inches away from yours, his messy hair only made him shine more under the moonlight. ''you're beautiful,'' his hand made it's way to your face, rubbing your soft skin.

you smile, burying your face into his unclothed chest. ''go to sleep already...'' you mutter. ''kiss me first.'' he teases, you sigh; lifting your head and placing a kiss on his cheek.

''nono, you know where.'' he says, a finger hooking under your chin, leading your face into his, kissing your lips.

''goodnight, honey.''

he leaves one final kiss on your forehead before placing your head back in it's rightful place: his chest, near his heart.

©eyeforlee

#🧾♡ ⸜ 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓷 𝓫𝔂 𝓮𝔂𝓮𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓮 #DO NOT USE ANY DIVIDER ; ALL MADE BY ME. #yay sunghoon #enhypen soft hours #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon ff #sunghoon drabbles #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon au #sunghoon soft hours #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen x yn #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #enhypen #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen fic #enhypen ff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen scenarios

[serevena]

do u think u could write some drabbles on dina? or dina sfw/nsfw hc? i’m honestly so in love with her ☹️☹️ (wlw ofc…) i love ur writing so so much and i’d love to see how u portray her !!

Modern!Dina Headcanons

Pairing - Modern!Dina x afab!reader

Warnings - Mentions of smut, nsfw + sfw hc’s, some of these are literal projections of me because I am her she is me

a.n - this is my first time doing anything for Dina so it’s a little rusty..but thank u ily bad <3

• Dina will always baby you. She’s the mom friend of the group, and most definitely the mom girlfriend in the relationship.

• Whether you cut yourself trying to open something, ran into something, no matter what it is, she will always be there to help you.

• “let’s get you patched up, yeah?”

• She makes it a routine to smoke at least every Friday, playing soft music in the background to ease the mood.

• definitely listens to Erykah Badu, I will not elaborate

• Dina’s style is simple. Jeans, boots, and a elbow-length shirt.

• the occasional dress if she’s feeling fancy.

• Prefers to wear burgundy, eggplant colored clothing.

• Now onto the fun part,

• Dina’s a switch. But she definitely tops you a lot.

• Will always tease you. Physically or verbally, before or after sex.

• Dina loves rough sex, but she’ll fold at even the thought of slow, passionate, and intimate sex.

• “Oh..oh, fuck—..”

• She’ll catch you looking at the veins in her hands occasionally often, and tease you every time for it, knowing she’d be knuckles deep in you by tonight.

#dina the last of us #dina tlou #dina nolastname #dina woodward #dina phantasmagoria #dina x you #dina x yn #dina x reader #dina smut #dina headcanons #dina tlou2 #tlou2 smut #tlou2 x reader #tlou2 x reader smut #dina woodward x reader #cascina caradonna

[justladders]

a friend asked "why do you draw springtrap like that?" and I flatly responded "so I can grab his tiny waist"

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #my art #yn insert #id consider this a yn thing bc i know some of yall would like it #anyways if anyones actually curious its bc i used to always try drawing things really exact #like when drawing characters based on 3d models i would worry about every detail and just be really clinical about it #but one day i sat back and realized i didnt like it and adapting stuff to be more like my favorite animated media would be more fun #so i started stylizing things in a way that fit with how i liked to draw expressions/poses #and ive kinda settled on this way of drawing him for that bc it *is* fun #and i can grab his tiny waist #laddersarts

[bethsvrse]

PAIRING Harry ‘wroetoshaw’ Lewis x fem!reader

A/N hello all! I’m back in my sidemen era and since social media au’s are pretty easy to make I decided to do one whilst working on some other requests. Hope you all like it and I promise some longer pieces are in the works 💕🥺

FACECLAIM Taylor Russell

yourusername

liked by wroetoshaw, conangray and others

yourusername bring me back is out now! I’ve put a lot of effort into this album and I hope you all enjoy it 💕

comments

y/nupdates most y/n thing to do it to randomly release an album without any promo 💀

freyanightingale amazing!!

liked by creator

oliviarodrigo listening to it right now babe!!

liked by creator

taliamar YOUR VOICE

liked by creator

y/nswifey GIRL PLEASE TELL ME YOU AND HARRY HAVENT BROKEN UP

jennysspammm why do you think they have broken up??

y/nswifey have you listened to the album yet?

jennysspammm no I’m at school

y/nswifey well it basically a bunch of heartbreak songs

jennysspammm WAIT FR NOOOOO

yourusername

liked by taliamar, ksi, chrismd and others

yourusername really wish I knew me and Harry weren’t dating anymore before I said yes

comments

taliamar when are you coming back home, I miss you 💔💔

yourusername one more week bbg

ksi congratulations guys

vikkstargram CONGRATS 🥳🥳

tobjizzle 🥹🙏🏿🩷🩷

chrismd see he finally popped the question after thinking about it for a year

freyanightingale not the ordinary 😞

yourusername we lost a warrior 🫡🫡

faithlouisak does this mean your leaving me 😢

yourusername i would never, you’re my number one honeypie 😍😚

wroetoshaw 😒

callux congratulations 🎉

itsaliysha OMG I KNEW THEY DIDNT BREAK UP

wroetoshaw

liked by yourusername, behzingagram and others

wroetoshaw wish I knew we weren’t together before I asked her to marry me

yourusername 🩷🩷

willne congrats lad

oliviawaatson mother is mothering in the second pic

taliamar the second pic is my new favourite photo of her 😍😍

faithlouisak same

#bethsvrse #harry lewis x reader #harry lewis x yn #harry lewis #sidemen x you #sidemen #social media au #wroetoshaw oneshot #wroetoshaw x reader #wroetoshaw social media au #taylor russell #I don’t use Twitter a lot so I hope this is realistic enough lmao