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brairslair · 2 months

Note

your monster trio nsfw headcanons were immaculate (seriously Zoro's was PERFECTION) could you do the same for Law and Ace?

@valkyrie-sun-walker

yes ofc! and thank youuu 💓💓 i got the 2nd req from a wonderful anon after i started writing this, so i decided to combine the two! here ya go mls :)

part 2 to this post

18+ ONLY (minors… 👉🏻🚪)

a/n: just me lusting over these men so ofc they’re all yappers, + i apologize to any usopp enjoyers for making usopp’s section a lil shorter 💌

don’t forget to like, comment, reblog, and follow to support my work!

“see what you do to me?”

law:

tough guy syndrome TM

puts on a cold front, but will wear flowers in his hair if you pick them for him

the kinda guy who can dish it out but can’t take it

in every sense

he can say the most flirtatious, descriptive, borderline pornographic shit to you with a smirk on his face

but the second you return the same attitude, he gets all flustered and fumbles over his words

he acts all dominant and in control when he’s making your eyes roll into the back of your head, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear

he takes great pride in his affect on you

“feels good, yeah?”

but when you take the reigns, he literally turns into a puddle at your fingertips

- “cat got your tongue?”

“shut up-”

clearly a switch

specifically a bratty sub + mean dom switch

so basically just a little bitch 24/7

when he’s a mean dom tho, he is a fucking mean dom

he’ll edge you until your crying from frustration, and then make you cum over and over until you lose count

“honey, are those tears? it’s just too much for you, isn’t it”

“you wanna be a good little slut for me, don’t you? then hold it.”

“count down from ten, nice and slow, and don’t you dare fucking cum until you get to one”

has a choking kink (giving and receiving)

also really likes to use toys on you, or watch you use them yourself

his favorite tho is your wand vibrator

he’ll hold it against your clit until you’ve cum so many times you’ve lost track, and you’re eyes are watering from overstimulation

or he’ll push it against you while he thrusts into you at a brutal pace, making you feel so much pleasure all at once that you see white behind your eyelids

he’s not a huge fan of pda, unless he’s jealous, and then he’s got you pressed against a wall with his tongue down your throat

if you get needy while he’s busy, he’ll make you ride his thigh

he’ll continue on with his work, acting as if you aren’t even there soaking through his jeans

his gentle hand on your hip, dick already hard against your knee, and a soft “good job, baby” when you cum are the only indicators that he was paying attention at all

get’s rly cocky when he catches u staring at his chest/back/tattoos

even worse when it’s his hands

will 100% use it against you to tease you all the time

will put his hands on your waist/thigh if he catches you looking for too long in public

then later he’ll make you come on his fingers and keep his mouth running the whole time

“bet this is what you were thinking about, huh. staring at my my fingers all day? couldn’t help it, could you?”

“oh, you can take more than that. cmon, one more”

“awh baby, i can feel you squeezin me already. you wanna cum so bad, don’t you sweetheart? not yet.”

he’ll get you right to the edge just to slow down to an agonizing pace and then make you beg him to let you cum

then he’ll have you suck his fingers clean

he’s a menace

but he’s also really good at aftercare, and will tell you how well you did and make you feel so loved and relaxed

now, as a bratty sub…

he is such a pain in the ass

he knows every way to get under your skin and get you exactly where he wants you

when you’re kissing him he’ll fight you for dominance even though he’s clearly losing

makes sassy ass comments whenever you speak just to piss you off

he could literally already be doing something but refuse if you tell him to

- “take off your pants”

“say please”

even when he admits defeat, he’ll continue to run his mouth for as long as possible before his brain turns to mush

if you use your mouth on him, it’s over

he’ll go from being a brat, to gripping the sheets in seconds

once you shut his brain off, he’s a total mess

his hands and mouth sloppy and all over you

when you ride him, he can’t take his eyes off of where your bodies meet, groaning at the wet sounds of your slick with every bounce

when he does look up at you he almost busts as soon as he sees your proud smile and blown out eyes looking down at him

his moans are loud and gravelly, and he’s desperately gripping at your hips, and whining, and cursing, and panting in your ear

the only words he seems to remember are “fuck” and your name

he loves it when your mean

- “you don’t get to touch unless you ask nicely. go on.”

“oh fuck- please”

also low key a sucker for light bondage (both ways)

acts like he doesn’t like when you mark him up because he doesn’t want other people to see, but it’s actually because every time he see’s your work on his skin he wants to pounce on you

and he can’t have that 24/7 now can he (i wish tho tbh)

will bite on your shoulder when you finally let him cum, leaving dainty little tooth shaped bruises behind like a medal

and of course, a few minutes after he comes down from his high, he goes right back to being a little shit

ace:

such a cocky motherfucker

but in a cute endearing way

also allergic to shirts apparently, and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t to show off for you at least a little

but he get’s all proud when he notices you ogling him

he’d say somthing goofy like

“like what you see?”

while wiggling his eyebrows

he is a messy kisser

like super sloppy

he just can’t get over how lucky he is to even be able to have your company, or be able to touch you at all, so getting to kiss you blows his mind a little and makes it short circut

soft dommmm

ace just wants to take care of you

he loves to slowly make you fall apart over and over, being there to be your anchor

but he’s also super talkative

“that’s it, princess. keep making those pretty noises for me, yeah?”

“just like that, keep going. doing such a good job”

“just a little more baby, you can take it”

loves eating you out, and he’s good at it

he likes to hold your hips down with one arm, and use his other hand to stretch you open

goes insane if you pull his hair

will put your legs over his shoulders

both a tits and ass guy

will bury his face in either and be perfectly content if he suffocates

he’s always kissing some part of you, wether its your lips, your neck, your thighs, your wrists, doesn’t matter because his mouth is on you

absolutely loves hearing your sounds, especially if you’re whimpering and whining

hearing you be so needy all for him drives him up the wall

kind of a dumbass sometimes, but can surprisingly lead to amazing sex sometimes

doesn’t realize how everyone ogles him wherever he goes

and he certainly doesn’t realize when other girls are throwing themselves at him

you know he doesn’t intentionally engage, but it’s still hard to not feel jealous watching the interactions

but when he notices you’re jealous… oh boy

he gets SO cocky (like more obnoxious than usual)

“awh, baby, are you jealous?”

“you know i only have eye’s for you”

“want me to prove it?”

and he will

he’d bring your hand to his dick, allowing you to feel how hard he is already

“see what you do to me?”

“this is all yours, baby”

“i’m alllll yours”

and then he’d proceed to fuck you until your legs are shaking, heat burning in your chest from overstimulation

but he makes sure to reassure you that he didn’t even notice the other girls intentions, because the only girl that he cares about is you <3

he’s not the jealous type himself, because he knows there’s no need to be

he trusts you, and he believes you when you tell him how much you love him

however, he does not trust other people

therefore, he is extremely protective of you

he’s honestly into pda

he just loves showing you off any chance he gets

one thing about ace is he will talk you through it

and he’ll hold your hand the whole time too

“yeahhh, there you go, princess”

“mm, there’s my girl”

“go on baby, soak me”

does the tummy push thing

also does the knee thing

goes feral if he sees you in any of his clothes

especially his hat

this is a “save a horse ride a cowboy” relationship

loves to put his weight on you, still being careful not to squish you

he just wants to be as close to you as humanly possible

and he’ll pin your hand’s above your head with one of his, interlacing your fingers

gets super giddy and proud when he fucks you dumb

“look at you, all pretty and fucked out”

“lettin me fuck you dumb, huh? lettin me fuck your brains out?”

“fuck, you can’t even think anymore, can you? feel too good to think, huh pretty girl”

he’s a biter and will sometimes leave marks, but he is not sorry

temperature play perhaps

is a fan of cockwarming

im also an avid believer in gamer bf ace

so he’ll have you just sit on his dick while he’s gaming, feeling you pulse and twitch around him in restraint

every once in a while he’d move his hips just enough to make you gasp, but then back to nothing

if you do move your hips he holds them still, reminding you of your agreement

he’ll make you sit there, almost completely still until you’re pleading and whimpering for him to let you move

“go ahead, pretty girl”

“take what you need”

he will buy you lingerie, and he will lose his mind every time he sees you in something he bought for you

face sitting enthusiast

will say “i love you” during sex at least once

will also probably quote an action movie while balls deep inside of you and completely brush past it like it was nothing

no matter what pace is set, he fucks hard

he’ll lift your legs from around his hips to push them against your chest, because the angle feels so much deeper

he’ll gradually build up speed, just to slow back down when either of you gets too close, to make it last longer

this will go on until you’re begging

“shh, hey, it’s okay baby, i’ve got you”

“just let it build with me, hm? we have all the time in the world”

“promise it’ll feel sooo good”

and when you’ve both evened out your breathing, he smothers you with affection and makes sure to take good care of you

usopp:

he’s a sub, full stop.

tried to dom at first, but it was just not natural to him at all

still will try to act all tough and in control, but he’s in the palm of your hand in seconds every time

more than willing to do anything you ask of him

gets flustered SO easily

will become a total mess from the smallest things

he gets defensive when you tease him, but he secretly really enjoys it

thigh guy

face sitting fan #2

loves kissing you and would do it all day every day if he could

any amount of pleasure you give him will turn him into a babbling mess

he’ll just say anything honestly

“hmm- feels so good”

“pleasepleaseplease-”

“can i kiss you? please let me kiss you-”

little bit of a mommy kink but embarrassed about it

suuuuper reactive

was 100% a virgin before you, so you have to help guide him in the beginning

you also help him discover what he likes and dislikes

he has a massive praise kink

“good boy” has him panting and fisting the sheets

he also really likes your hands

the way you hold his jaw so firmly when you kiss him

or gently squeeze his shaft when you tease him through his boxers

and even how you press your thumb past his lips to stifle his noises as you make him cum in your fist

his moans are whiny and a soft, getting lost in the pleasure

“ohhh- wow”

once his brain is long gone, he honestly doesn’t talk much until he’s getting close

thats when the incoherent stuttering starts back up again

“you’re so- ahh- so good at that”

“don’t stop, don’t stop-”

“i think i’m gonna… i’m cumming”

when he does cum, he’s either whining your name like a broken record, or so fucked out all he can do is pant and gasp and paw at your skin

he’s also a crier when he gets overstimulated

always polite and says thank you <3

asks are open! <3

620 notes · View notes

sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

let me know that it's real - s.h.

Summary: You get stood up for a date. Steve finds you first.

Pairing: best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/tags: reader gets stood up, love confessions, and, wait for it... friends to lovers! shocking, i know.

****

Your skirt squeaks against the vinyl of the booth as you shift. Your butt had begun to hurt around the half hour mark, and now, creeping upon nine o'clock, your legs are asleep.

Your eyes water and you quickly dab at the unshed tears, partly out of not wanting to cry in public but also, you've spent a hell of a time doing your makeup tonight. You had felt pretty in your daisy patterned blouse and your new flared skirt, but now, it doesn't seem worth it to have agonized over such a thing. Your lips are sticky with pink gloss that you anxiously reapply every ten minutes.

You pull out your compact again, checking your mascara to make sure it hasn't run down your cheeks. Not that it matters.

"Miss," comes a voice from above. The waitress is back. "You gotta order something if you wanna keep the table."

She sounds sympathetic, maybe a little pitying. You try to ignore it.

"Right," you sniffle, sounding nasal. "I'll have a, um, basket of fries. And a Coke. What time is it, by the way?"

She checks her watch, wincing.

"Ten to nine. I'll get those fries for you. Do you want 'em with cheese? On the house."

"Oh. Y-yes, please. Thank you."

She takes your menu and disappears back to the kitchen. You stare at the empty seat across from you, quietly lamenting. You should've known better than to accept a date with Andy Beltran. You'd been so desperate though. Not for Andy—not in a million years—but for somebody to take your mind off the true object of your affections. Even for a night. You haven't been able to think about anybody else since the tenth grade. It's, in a word, pathetic.

Your Coke arrives first and you sip it absently, chewing on the straw. Around you, friend groups and couples alike chatter away, spending their Friday night properly. You've just wasted a whole night on a guy you hadn't even liked that much to begin with. And isn't that just like the universe, smushing your face into the dirt when you're already down.

A knock on the window startles you. Sweet brown eyes meet your own. Oh. Steve.

Wait.

Steve? Shit, fuck!

You scramble for a napkin to dab your extra tears. Steve stares at you for a moment, brows pinched. Then he marches away. That's fine by you—welcome, even. Especially right now, in the throes of your plane crash of a date.

"Y/N?"

…And he only walked away to come inside and speak to you face-to-face. Shit.

"S-Steve, um, hey. Hi. Uh, what are you doing here?"

You hurriedly wipe your nose. Steve's brows crinkle. You can't hide anything from him.

"Feels like I should be asking you the same thing."

"Here's your fries, hon," interrupts the waitress, setting down a plate of gooey cheese fries and a wad of napkins.

She glances in Steve's direction, brow crooked disapprovingly.

"Not polite to make a lady wait like that, y'know."

Steve's eyes widen. "What?"

You hope the booth splits open and swallows you. Somehow this is more mortifying than actually being stood up.

"No, it's not him," you say quickly. "He's a friend."

She looks at you, then at Steve.

"A friend, huh?"

You sink into the vinyl. Steve takes a careful step forward, eyeing the waitress like she might whack him upside the head with her notepad.

"Well. Let me know if you need anything else," she finally says, and walks away.

Steve takes the empty seat across from you.

"Hey," he greets gently, more tender than you deserve.

You give a watery smile.

"Hi, Steve."

"You look really pretty."

Pins in your heart. Steve sounds so genuine you almost want to cry. He's looking at you like you're the only one in the diner.

"Thanks," you say softly.

"D'you have a date?"

"Well, not anymore," you scoff.

"What? Who in their right mind would ever stand you up?"

"Andy Beltran," you mumble.

Steve won't ever make fun of you. He's better than that, has good friends to keep him and his hair in check. Still, you don't want to see the pity written across his face as you admit that you can't even get Andy Beltran, who's a solid seven on the sleaze scale, to go out with you.

"Beltran?" Steve's nose crinkles. "A box of cereal would make a better date."

"Yeah, well, at this rate, I think a box of cereal is my only option."

You take a fry, the grease and salt welcomed by your growling stomach. Steve pushes a lock of hair back. He's handsome, the glow of the OPEN sign outside dancing across the contours of his face. You bite your fry and ache.

"You deserve way better," he says earnestly, baby browns boring into you.

"Thanks, Steve."

"I mean it," he insists. "You do. You're, like, the coolest person I know."

"Cooler than Robin? Better watch yourself."

"I can keep a secret if you can," he winks.

You push the fries closer to him, gesturing. Steve takes a fry, then frowns.

"Are you hungry?"

"Well, the fries—"

"No, let me buy you a meal. We don't have to stay here either. I'll get you anything you want."

He doesn't mean it how it sounds. Steve's not promising you the world. But it sure feels like it.

"You really don't have to—"

"Y/N," he chides. "C'mon. Let me. You deserve a good night. You got all dressed up and everything."

Steve gestures to his own attire.

"I don't exactly measure up here, but you should at least get a good BLT out of me."

"Okay," you agree, cheeks suddenly warm. "Thanks."

Steve beams and flags down the waitress. You order first. Steve asks for a slice of Oreo cheesecake. At his beckoning, you order a strawberry slice.

"It'll be out shortly," the waitress says, smiling at you.

Steve picks up another fry as she goes, shaking his head.

"All these years we've been friends and you still refuse to acknowledge chocolate superiority," he sighs.

"Strawberry wins every time. Plus, it's a pretty color."

Steve throws a hand up.

"Where did I go wrong?"

You giggle. "Guess you shouldn't have become friends with me then.”

"Nah," he says. "Best decision I ever made."

You don't know what to say to that, so you pop a fry into your mouth and ignore Steve's eyes on you.

"What're you doing out this late anyway?" you ask.

"Robin was out today so Keith had me lock up. I was gonna order to-go here, since it's close. Didn't know you had a date tonight."

It's not an accusation. Steve's stating a fact. You didn't tell him. Which is weird, because you tell Steve everything. Except if you'd told Steve you had plans with Andy, he would've told you to cancel because Andy's a jerk. And you would've done it because Steve's right.

And then you'd be home right now, wishing you had a place to put all your love.

"I, um, didn't think it was worth mentioning," you eventually say. "Not like I'm winning any prizes with Andy Beltran."

"Do you like him or something?"

"God, no," you say before you can think about it.

Now Steve is really puzzled. You and your big mouth.

"So why did you go out with him?"

"I…" you trail off. "I don't know."

You don't have a better answer than that. You wish you could be honest with Steve. He's never less than kind when you tell him anything.

But that's exactly what you're afraid of. You can't bear the thought of vomiting your feelings for Steve, all for him to be kind about them.

"Well," Steve says. "You could've called me, y'know. To pick you up. I would've taken you home."

"It's late. I didn't wanna be a bother."

"You're never a bother, Y/N,” he scoffs. “Never, never, never.”

You smile and hide half of your face.

“You’re a good friend, Steve.”

“Best friend?”

You laugh.

“Yes, of course. There’s no competition.”

Steve beams at you, pink-cheeked, like you’ve just awarded him the highest honor there is.

The waitress arrives with your food. You dig into your BLT, Steve his reuben. He takes a big bite and smears Russian dressing on his nose. You giggle behind your sandwich.

“Hmm?” he asks, cheeks full like a chipmunks.

That only makes you laugh harder and you take a napkin from the dispenser. You gesture for him to lean forward and wipe his nose. He scrunches his nose.

“You’d think the Harrington boy would know how to eat properly,” he says when he swallows. “Especially in such lovely company.”

You roll your eyes but your neck burns with nerves.

“Not lovely enough, apparently. Couldn’t even pull Andy Beltran.”

Steve’s brows furrow as he picks up his Coke.

“What’re you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in Hawkins.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“Don’t lie to me, that’s what.”

“I’m not!”

“I’ve seen those girls who flirt with you,” you say. “I know a lie when I hear one.”

“I’m not lying!” he insists. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, I swear on the kids. It’s a fact. I’d much rather look at you than any of those girls.”

The lump in your throat grows.

“Even so,” you say, quieter than before. “It’s not enough.”

You drag a fry through your puddle of ketchup and avoid Steve’s eyes.

“Not enough?”

“Well, yeah.” You scoff. “I mean, look. I wasn’t enough for Andy. I’m not enough for anybody.”

Not enough for you.

“Y/N,” Steve says, gentle and kind and you know that he’s trying to make you feel better, which only makes it worse. “You can’t really believe that.”

“I can barely score a date, Steve.” You laugh but it hurts. “I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not enough.”

You stare at your sandwich because you can feel the tears rushing in. And it’s so silly to cry over tonight. You don’t even like Andy. Most of you is relieved he didn’t show. But it just solidified what you know to be true: you’re not meant for this. And if you can’t even hold Andy’s attention, getting somebody you truly love is impossible.

“Y/N, you’re more than enough. You’re–you’re, God, you’re absolutely incredible. Out of this world! Not just for some guy but for anybody. Friends, family, dream job, whatever. You can do it all.”

You shake your head, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“I’m not,” you rasp. “Oh, Steve, I’m plain. Nobody likes plain girls. I’m leftovers.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“But it’s true!” you cry.

Thank God there’s hardly anybody in the diner. The waitress is nowhere to be found. You draw your arms around yourself and cry into your plate.

Your booth dips. Steve gently coaxes you further into the seat. Then he wraps an arm around your back and one over your arms. He pulls your head into his shoulder.

“Hey, hey,” he soothes. “You’re not leftovers or plain or anything like that. You’re dynamite.”

You sniffle and shake your head.

“No—”

“Yes,” Steve interrupts. “Yes, you are. I’d never lie to you, honey. You’re the most amazing person I know.”

You fist his shirt. Steve’s neck is warm and soft. His hair tickles your ear.

“I’m no good.”

“You are,” he says. “You’re so good. You’re perfect. Anybody’d be lucky to have you.”

“Not you.”

It’s a tiny confession, one that can’t even begin to encompass your unfathomable love for Steve. But you might as well have announced your crush on cable TV.

Steve freezes.

“Me?” he whispers.

You squirm. You need to run, but there’s nowhere to go.

“Never mind.” You try to pull away. “Forget it.”

“No, wait, hey. Y/N, honey, hold on.”

You cover your face. Stupid, you’re so stupid.

“Y/N, please. Please look at me?”

Steve manages to wrangle your hands away. You look at him, tear-streaked and mortified. Steve makes a soft noise and carefully brushes your tears.

“Oh, oh. No, don’t cry,” he pleads. “Please don’t cry. I don’t ever want to make you cry.”

“I shouldn’t have said it. I’m sorry, Steve, I don’t—”

“Y/N, hey. It’s alright, it–it’s more than alright, really…”

“Don’t do that,” you hiss.

Steve’s eyes are wide.

“Do what?”

“Don’t be all kind and understanding. I know you spare lots of feelings, Steve. Don’t spare me.”

His hands go to the sides of your face. You sit and brace yourself.

It’s okay, isn’t it? Steve will forgive you for loving him.

“I’m sorry,” you say again.

“Please stop apologizing.”

You shake your head.

“I can’t do anything more,” you whisper. “All I can do is apologize for how I feel, Steve.”

He traces the apple of your cheek with a knuckle, lips parted. He looks at you through his lashes and shakes his head.

“Never,” he says. “Never apologize for that.”

And he kisses you. He kisses you and it doesn’t taste like forgiveness at all.

Your glossed lips stick to Steve’s. He puts a hand on your spine like you’re not close enough and butterflies flit in your belly. You loop your arms around his neck.

You fit. How you thought any different, you don’t know.

Steve is warm and everywhere and you can smell his lemony shampoo and taste your vanilla lip gloss on his lips. He pulls back and holds your chin with his thumb and pointer finger.

“This is the best failed date ever,” you blurt.

Steve laughs, eyes dark and sweet. You want to kiss him again and again.

“Three years,” you say before you can convince yourself not to. “I’ve loved you for three years.”

Steve is stunned. You shift. Have you botched this good thing before you’ve begun? Have you–

He holds your face again like he can’t help himself.

“Four,” he says, because of course he has to have been in love with you longer than you have him.

You lean back in for another kiss.

“Worth the wait.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

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atopvisenyashill · 2 months

Note

"Daenerys has done a lot of wrongs" and said are killing slavers

thanks for this one actually because you gave me an excuse to talk about that for a bit.

now first of all - i find it very frustrating that when people say “this was wrong” everyone defaults to “why do you care about slavers” when usually, when i’m talking about things dany has done wrong, i’m talking about mirri maz durr, sacking astapor, sexually abusing irri, and taking a profit off slavery. mirri wasn’t a slaver, she was a slave, and she was blood sacrificed by dany. sacking a city, regardless of who is in that city, is always messy and bad - ask Cleos the Butcher and the people he rules over how they feel about the Sack. Ask the people of King's Landing how they feel about their houses being set on fire every few decades. Ask Missandei how she really feels watching the woman she put all her faith in take a cut off the selling of slaves. Hell, Dany knows that Irri does not want to have sex with her and is doing it because she feels "obligated" because she's a slave and Dany still uses her as a bed warmer and then bars her from expressing an interest in Rakharo because she doesn't believe Irri is ~worthy~ of Rakharo (worthy to fuck but not to love and don't I fucking know about attitudes like that coming from white straight girls lmao).

But let's move past all of that (you certainly seem uninterested in talking about the personhood of slaves like Missandei and Mirri after all, despite ostensibly defending them here) and dig into the crucifying of the Great Masters. In fact, let's turn to Dany's own thoughts over this, bolded part mine:

In the plaza before the Great Pyramid, the Meereenese huddled forlorn. The Great Masters had looked anything but great in the morning light. Stripped of their jewels and their fringed tokars, they were contemptible; a herd of old men with shriveled balls and spotted skin and young men with ridiculous hair. Their women were either soft and fleshy or as dry as old sticks, their face paint streaked by tears. “I want your leaders,” Dany told them. “Give them up, and the rest of you shall be spared.” “How many?” one old woman had asked, sobbing. “How many must you have to spare us?” “One hundred and sixty-three,” she answered. She had them nailed to wooden posts around the plaza, each man pointing at the next. The anger was fierce and hot inside her when she gave the command; it made her feel like an avenging dragon. But later, when she passed the men dying on the posts, when she heard their moans and smelled their bowels and blood… Dany put the glass aside, frowning. It was just. It was. I did it for the children.

Immediately after doing it, Dany regrets it. She recognizes she did it while angry and impassioned and reckless, and that the deaths were agonizing, that she did it not for the children but because she was angry and humiliated. This scene has never been as righteously clean morally than people would believe from the moment it was on page! She recognizes she did a fucked up thing but rationalizes it away because she can't admit she made a mistake. She reflects on it later again as she's ruling Meereen:

She had not forgotten the slave children nailed up along the road from Yunkai. They had numbered one hundred sixty-three, a child every mile, nailed to mileposts with one arm outstretched to point her way. After Meereen had fallen, Dany had nailed up a like number of Great Masters. Swarms of flies had attended their slow dying, and the stench had lingered long in the plaza. Yet some days she feared that she had not gone far enough. These Meereenese were a sly and stubborn people who resisted her at every turn. They had freed their slaves, yes … only to hire them back as servants at wages so meagre that most could scarce afford to eat. Those too old or young to be of use had been cast into the streets, along with the infirm and the crippled. And still the Great Masters gathered atop their lofty pyramids to complain of how the dragon queen had filled their noble city with hordes of unwashed beggars, thieves, and whores. To rule Meereen I must win the Meereenese, however much I may despise them.

She lets the bodies of the people she wants to rule rot, the smell lingering in the plaza for weeks, reminding the people she is trying to make peace with that she can and will viciously murder their families and gloat over their corpses and they cannot stop her. Then doesn't put in any rules about wages, anything to help the sick and disabled. She blames the Great Masters for working within the system they've had for generations despite yelling at them to get a new system and doing nothing to help them move to that new system. She judges them, she hates them, and she wonders why she has the Meereneese version of the KKK springing up afterwards. She is just as ineffective as Andrew Johnson is during Reconstruction, too focused on her own feelings to look objectively at what this destroyed city actually needs from her, instead judging them from her own lofty pyramid with her own slaves and her own superior culture and mopes about how much she wants the Seven Kingdoms.

SHE is the one who decided she was going to rule this place. But instead of focusing on reconciliation, she focuses in on revenge. And that is why she sets herself up to fail.

#ya'll are so fucking annoying #anti daenerys targaryen #anti dany stans #slavery in essos #asks #anons

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astridthevalkyrie · 6 months

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major spoilers for crossroads!!!

the part of me that hates happiness really needs to know how levi was after we died. like what were his thoughts. we got fucking married the night before and specifically never told him “i love you” because he requested to say it first. he was ready to drop his dreams at a dime for us. he finally, finally decided that-fuck it- life’s too short not to show how much he cares. and it turns out that our life was much shorter than he thought. if he decided to stay with us and fight instead of going after zeke like erwin requested we would still be alive. not only that, he got away in the end. he probably knew we were dead on that field before he came back out for us. did he wait cause he was scared? if he did do you think he feels guilty like it’s his fault?

and my biggest question yet; how could you write this as the ending? don’t get me wrong, it’s probably the best ending you could’ve done BY FAR. it’s so sad yet so realistic for that world. we didn’t think we’d make it till the end right? i’m more of talking about the writing itself. cause i don’t think i could go without the happy ending.

and now that i think about it what a place to end it. we didn’t see the ocean, we didn’t make up with our mother, we didn’t get to know the truth of the world, to see the world. and we just got to a place where we were happy with ourself. you ma’am, are a creative genius. i started reading this series like 2 years ago when you were still updating it consistently. stopped reading cause i wanted to watch it beforehand so i could have context. never actually watched aot until about a week ago. remembered your fic, started to read it. and now i’m a sobbing mess who has been pacing around in my room all night like a lunatic pondering the heartbreak of a pretty anime man cause i want someone to grieve for me as much as i’m sure he does in your story. hands down one of th best fics i’ve ever read. thank you for making it

thank you for the spoiler warning! even though it's been out for a while i really appreciate it just in case someone's on my page for the first time <33

levi is a mess. obviously the final chapter will be alllll about him going through the motions as plot things keep happening. it's like, everything you said. he realized life was too short, but he still never heard the magic three words from her, and he never said them to her either. and hahahahahahahaaaaa yes, in the end, her death in hindsight could very much have been avoided if he'd stayed and fought with her, with little to no difference in outcome since zeke got away in the end. he might have even had some support during the serum debacle. who would reader want the injection to go to, i wonder?

as for why he waited, yeah—he very much knew she was dead. she was up against 25 titans and on her last set of swords. he left her knowing she was gonna die, and pretty quickly at that. what's funny is that...if she didn't engage and just kinda stood there, the titans wouldn't have gone for her. zeke's order to the titans is "rip him to pieces!" they were only after levi, none of them even try to eat her, more like just bat her out of the way. of course if she hadn't fought them, levi would have way more to deal with and would either have died or at the very least been overwhelmed enough that catching up to zeke would be impossible.

levi doesn't regret his choices. that's what erwin taught him. but how long can that last when even erwin isn't there to remind him of it? he's guilty. he's beyond guilty. but what he regrets isn't the final moments, after all, those were her choices. it might be those sneaky confessions he never verbalized that he's more agonized over.

reader's story is.....completely cut short. she doesn't see her mom or millie again, doesn't get to tell levi she loves him, doesn't get to see the outside world or even find out about it. she never even finds out why annie did what she did! and i'm really, really glad you think it's a good ending to the story despite all that. (of course, we're not done yet, but reader's journey definitely ends here.)

it wasn't always 100% the plan. when i posted the original Superior oneshot, i had a backstory forming in my head, and then a loose canonverse plotline. i'd love to say that there was a story i wanted to tell that everything was built around, but honestly all my favorite moments just appeared in my head, and the story formed around them. if someone is curious i can delve into alternate endings i thought of, at least one of them is pretty wild LMAO. but by the time i started summer rain her death was sealed since i had to start setting it up.

the FACT. that you read my silly little story before watching aot. means the whole WORLD to me. rest assured the pretty anime man loves you in that story and every other one. thank you sosososo much, i hope you liked watching the show too! thank you so much for the kind words <3

#superior

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flower-seeks-the-moon · 1 month

Text

Your Move (VI. Ritardando: Backwards Pawn)

fandom: our life: beginnings and always

relationships: main character/baxter ward

characters: main character, baxter ward, side characters appearing

words: 6111

Read on AO3 (must be logged in) or below this cut.

“In the solitude, I felt the liberty you speak of. But I also felt your absence.”

- Celine Sciamma, Portrait of a Lady on Fire

“You are a devious one, Wisteria,” he hisses to himself as his rook is captured, a fair price to pay in defense of his king.

“Hoh?” She is in excellent form today: all glimmering eyes and a subtle, ambiguous upward curve of her lips. With a satisfied hum, she tucks away the white rook among the ranks of her prisoners. A look of mourning is all he could afford to spare his king’s subjects, those poor casualties in this war between black and white. “I ceded the advantage of first move to you, so do be careful who you’re calling devious .” Her retort comes just as fast as he agonizes over the next move.

Baxter lists his head sideways, watching her through a lidded stare. Truthfully, he’s far more interested in watching her like this: a ruler in her court of black and white squares, imperious yet with a lurking playfulness. With her head tipped into her palm, elbow against her other hand, she makes even the blessedly cool floor of her room feel like a throne.

The air-conditioning being put on full-blast within the Blancs’ residence, however, isn’t enough on this fine day. They’re both heatsick; had she not invited him to hang out today, he’d be elsewhere. Likely, it’d be some café.

Yet he’s here, feeling the prickle of sweat on his skin. She isn’t much better, but the thrill of the game seems to be doing her a favor.

He’s not even half-ashamed to admit that if it weren’t for inciting her ire, he’d allow himself to be distracted and taken down in the next few turns.

But now is not the time to be weak. Back to the board, his attention goes, working the best of the rudimentary skills he learned at his father’s hip. It wouldn’t be remiss to say that he only knows enough due to his parents’ particular brand of elitism. If there is one thing to thank his dear mother for, it’d be her support of his preference for music and dance.

Had his father gotten his way, Baxter would be playing polo, or something else just as patently ‘appropriate’ for a man. Ballroom dance is only acceptable because of its advantages in networking with their acquaintances, but the pride that his mother shows in him is genuine enough.

It is yet another reason for the cold silences between Mr. and Mrs. Ward, though they will surely deny such a disagreement affecting their marriage.

Yet it is that same disharmony that gives him enough luck to meet and remain an interesting opponent to his summer fling. That is a victory, isn’t it?

The match decidedly does not end in triumph for him a little while later, but what they get is a good time. That’s enough.

She tips her head back against the edge of her bed, once they have cleaned up and tucked the board away. “Thanks for playing. You used the Dunst Opening, huh.”

“I must admit, I do know a limited amount of openings due to this being one of my father’s hobbies.” He leans back on his palms, legs stretched out before him. “And I had wanted to surprise you, so beginning with an e4 would have been counterproductive. Is it fair to assume that I have succeeded to some degree?”

Wisteria hums, neither confirming nor denying it. “I had fun. So, what was that text about being gone for a week’s trip?”

“Ah.” A muscle in his jaw tightens for a split-second. “Yes, that.” Baxter breathes in deeply, holding it for a long moment. “I believe I told you about my parents’ reasoning in sending me to Sunset Bird.”

Do everything as an adult would, yet receive all the respect that an infant does.

The unnameable quality in her gaze deepens. “My bad boy of a summer suitor is making plans, isn’t he? You sure looked like you had a number of them, when you got out of that taxi.”

This startles a laugh out of him. She remembers the look on his face, before he even caught sight of her? “He does indeed. An old classmate of mine is vacationing along with a few others in our year at one of his lovely summer residences. Thus far, he has promised a few nights of leisure by a poolside and refreshments.” A few Bellinis would be an excellent incentive, and Edmond knows this about him (and little else).

The biggest incentive, however, is the freedom from prying parents.

“Sounds like fun,” Wisteria murmurs, tipping her head back down to look him properly in the eye. “I might find myself missing you, however.”

It’s funny how this little statement — unintentional, from the way her brow creases — could make him feel elation and dread both. “It will merely be a short week. Truthfully, it is the temporary liberty from my parents’ decisions that I strive for in doing this.”

“Does Sunset Bird not give you that?”

The smile on his face is humorless, but reflexive. “Not quite.”

They watch each other. The idle summer afternoon doesn’t feel so idle anymore.

Why did you say that?

But it’s all overwhelming — her, and everything she gives him. The feelings she incites. His stomach flipping, the way he feels hearing that he will be missed. Her direct statements, lacking his finesse, like a sledgehammer to a wall he needs to reinforce. The fireworks reflected in her irises, her mouth sweet and warm. And his button-up shirt, yet to be returned since she promised to wash it for him.

There is another reason why he needs to take this weeklong trip.

He had overstepped, hadn’t he?

A look into her face as she watches her two friends smiling at each other, and Baxter is a goner. Projecting his own heartache on her, when she had handled her situation with far more grace than he. Beyond that, her friendships are different. She is still here, after all, and intends to stay: he has countless unspoken questions from his childhood friends, each left unanswered.

And yet he has the gall to play his hand at kindness, when he’s the one leeching all the warmth he could from her.

A small break in a familiar environment, where he knows the direction the show will go, would do him good. It would also do her a favor, give her more time to spend among her true companions.

He is only ever her summer fling. A pleasant experience, an accessory at her side to admire.

Making a soft noise in her throat, she lowers her gaze to the floor. “Mhm. Wanna get a drink downstairs? Feeling a little parched after that match.”

Come the evening, he appears at her family’s doorstep once again.

The tension from earlier this afternoon is gone. She tilts her head backward, leaning against the doorframe. Freshly showered, in a loose t-shirt and shorts, stray droplets still visible on her neck; it’s all he could do not to follow their path downwards. “All packed and ready?”

“The roads will be much less congested past seven in the evening, so I believe an overnight drive will not be so bad. I am quite accustomed to working throughout the night.”

She raises a brow. “I see. Well, I’ve got something for you. Come on in?”

“I will be going soon after this. Best for me to remain here, instead of imposing.”

Wisteria leaves him staring after her as she vanishes back inside. He stays there, smiling, cool and undisturbed, as he hears the laughter coming from their living room. His hands burrow deeper into his pockets as he waits, her family’s voices growing loud enough for him to overhear.

“Rice and adobo in a box, for your fancy boy? Oh, little sis.”

His girlfriend’s voice follows, punctuated with what he imagines to be a mild glower. “It’s what we do for our trips, and it works. The hell am I supposed to do?”

“Now, now. You’re doing wonderful, sweetie, looking out for him. The disposable container is a good idea.”

“Noelani’s right; your boy’s possibly in over his head. A drive all the way to the other end of California, all by himself? He’ll be driven to exhaustion without a stopover and a bite to eat halfway.”

It doesn’t take long, despite the things he overhears. She appears back in front of him, an eco bag hanging from her grip. When she thrusts it up towards his chest, Baxter grabs her wrist instead and gently lowers it between them. It still has the same effect as when he first tried it, that brief catch in her breath which makes his lip twitch. Though his hold is loose, she doesn’t pull away. Cocking his head, he asks her, “What have you got for me, my dear?”

She takes a moment to respond under his stare. “I - We made some adobo for tonight. It keeps well with rice, for road trips.”

His cheeks feel hot. There is no way he’d miss that slipup, his heart beating in quickstep against his ribcage once again. “I see,” he echoes her earlier words, keeping the same coy tone. “How thoughtful of you.” With his other hand, he tugs the bag free from her fingers.

“It’s not much. You could probably stop somewhere nicer along the way, and get-”

This is unlike her. Baxter bites back a rebuke towards himself for making her doubt.

“If you’d allow me to say something, Ria?” No, he’s not having any of that uncertain rambling from her. He droops down, forehead coming in contact with her shoulder. “I swear… A personally packed lunch is a first for me, Wisteria. You do have quite the propensity for giving me a number of those, don’t you?” He has never been more pathetic within the past years than he is around her. Voice hoarse, he forces back the lonesome child within his chest to give way for a smooth grin. It’s more for himself than for her, since she couldn’t see it like this. “Nothing more would please me than partaking in something that you made with your own hands.”

“I’m not as good as my ma.” She warns, as if Baxter hasn’t been the repeat victim of his roommates’ attempts with a microwave for the past year. Even so, he would stomach anything like a damned fool if it came from her kitchen.

“I give you my word.” He utters against her skin. “On my return, I shall tell you of my arrival in person, at your doorstep.”

A hand settles on his back, tugging him close, accepting the silent truce for what it is. Gentle as she cards her fingers through his hair, Wisteria sighs.

“I hope that you will find the liberty you yearn for, Baxter.”

Pamela Blanc had been right on the money: he had overestimated how daunting it would be to drive from the south to the north of the country’s third-largest state. Though Baxter had counted on the hours well past seven to give the least amount of traffic for him to navigate, a ten-hour drive is still a ten-hour drive. This does not factor in the stopover he would need to make. The freeway is mercifully sparse for the first stretch, his only company being the soft punk rock coming out of the car stereo and the quiet purr of the engine; ahead of him stretches a long, well-lit expanse only shared with his fellow nighttime drivers.

It’s thirty past eleven when he finds himself stopping, pulling his car over beside a starkly-lit convenience store. It glows like a beacon against the darkness surrounding it, beckoning travelers like him toward the only place to seek refuge for miles. The parking lot is empty when he stops his engine, hands tightening on the wheel as he braces himself with a lungful of air.

Far away from Sunset Bird, he wonders why he feels none of the weight lifting off of his shoulders.

This is what you’re driving for.

He has managed to finagle his way out of the cage of his parents’ own making, if only for one week. This should be considered a triumph, one among the others he’s been eking out ever since he chose to study in Virginia.

Leaning his head back against the headrest, he breathes in and out. Slowly, like you taught yourself. There’s no one to watch him, but guilt still weighs heavy in his chest. He shouldn’t be like this, shouldn’t feel like an aimless piece of driftwood tossed about by the merciless waves. Every mouthful of air feels hardly enough to calm the shaking of his fingertips, but he’s long become a master at wrangling his own body into compliance. It doesn’t take long before his grip loosens around the wheel and his jaw unclenches.

The motions of smiling are instinctive, even when he’s alone. There is still an audience of one to appease: himself.

His forehead is cold with sweat when he brings his hand up through his fringe, making him wince.

When his phone screen flickers to life on the dashboard, it’s a welcome distraction from the turn his thoughts have taken. His dull stare lands on the lockscreen, a glimmer returning when he spots the notifications.

Wisteria across street! Just now i couldn't sleep. guessing you’ll probably take a break soon 3 more messages from Wisteria across street! Edmond Cartier 3h ago [image attachment]

He pays no attention to the second notification, immediately tapping on the first. It takes a swipe to scroll back up to her first message, the timestamp telling him it was sent about an hour after he set off.

Wisteria across street!: so i think you’re going to learn real fast how it’s no joke to drive across the state Wisteria across street!: and that’s why i thought of sending you off with food Wisteria across street!: you should eat. i don’t want you to fall asleep at the wheel due to fatigue.

The words on the screen don’t register until the smile on his face begins to feel less like a mask spread too thin; now, it feels more like the person he finds himself becoming, as the summer days stretch for longer in a certain seaside neighborhood. He reaches for the bag he had set aside on the passenger seat, taking out a clear container. The plastic glimmers dimly from the lamps outside until he flicks on the interior lighting. Underneath the clear case, the food she made herself is spread out: dark brown chunks of pork with a light sauce atop a bed of white rice.

He recognizes this dish. Sometimes, she would bring him food that he’s never had the chance to try before. This is one of those dishes.

“This? Every Filipino home has its own version, ma told me. It’s like chicken soup here. The way your mother makes it will always be better than anyone else’s version. Ma learned from her mother, Lola Lorna, whose own mother moved to Hawaii for work, where she met her husband.”

She made this for him.

The tightness in his chest isn’t borne out of the knife he often turns inwards on himself, this time.

Though he’s still mindful of keeping the car neat, Baxter decides that it’s fine to be improper tonight. He eats dinner in the passenger seat, feeling a bit like a mischievous, rebellious child. What my dear friend doesn’t know won’t hurt them, and I’ll leave these seats spotless. The tangy-sweet taste of the soy sauce and vinegar-based glaze does seem to be on the sweeter side; he chuckles under his breath, recognizing Wisteria’s sweet tooth at work. With every bite, he feels less adrift, even as he sits in here all alone inside his rented vehicle.

After his short break, and a quick purchase of the store’s strongest canned black coffee - a travesty against the art, really, but a must - Baxter continues on his journey with a full heart and a full stomach.

Twinkletoes: you are a wonderful cook, ria. thank you for dinner. i find myself looking forward to coming back, even as my trip is underway. Wisteria across street!: now look here. i wasn’t the only one who made it, ma helped me Wisteria across street!: ok fine i did it myself. i Wisteria across street!: i’m glad you liked it

He makes it to his old classmate’s summer residence in good time, though it’s dawn by the time his car pulls into the long driveway.

It’s quiet, in these early hours, with only the residential staff to receive Baxter once he steps out. He declines the offer of taking his suitcase with a shake of his head; there’s not a lot to carry, and he can do this himself. As they guide him towards his room, he’s duly informed that his old acquaintances — ‘friends’, in these circles, perhaps — are still fast asleep after the previous night’s activities. He laughs, polite and crisp, and informs them that he would also be sleeping in as soon as he can. Typical of them, this is just one endless idle summer full of shallow partying.

Baxter would be lying if he claims he’s never done similar. It’s frightfully easy to lose track of time in places where the liquor flows like water from bottles and taps, where the music is louder than your own thoughts, and where the tight press of bodies is so designed to make you forget yourself. These are people who wouldn’t give a damn if the world ended outside their gates, a modern-day Prince Prospero and his merry retinue.

It’s been a long while since the varnish has worn off of this lifestyle’s gilded edges for him, to see the cage for what it is.

You would exchange one prison for another if it meant insisting on your own ‘rebellion’ against your mother and father.

The inside of his temporary abode is a room right by the pool, floor-length sliding door leading right outside. Shut closed, the gauzy curtains are drawn across the exit to keep the sunlight out. Baxter spares the shimmering blue water one glance, and nothing more.

Briefly, he sees the ocean’s unequaled hues, all reflected in a girl’s clear grey eyes.

“Pools aren’t so interesting once you’ve seen the ocean,” he says to the empty room with a rueful twist of his mouth. “They are… Much less threatening, however.”

Showering, brushing his teeth, washing his face. All good, quickly done away with. Drying his hair with the blow dryer. Also done with. Rummaging through his suitcase for his sleepwear makes him grumble to himself, but it is manageable.

He falls into a deep, dreamless sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

“What have you been up to since graduation, Baxter? It’s been a while since we last got a moment to kick back like this.”

Baxter affixes his stare to the stem of his wine glass, watching the golden liquid swish within. He allows himself to smile as the sound system blares out the most unpleasant tunes he’s ever had the displeasure of hearing; Edmond’s music tastes haven’t changed, but who is he to judge with his interest in alternative rock? He replies, nonchalant, “I have been quite well. Virginia is a most pleasant place for me to study, I have grown accustomed to life within a dormitory.” A smooth non-answer, as is usual for discussions like this. He turns his attention to his highschool acquaintance. “And you, Edmond? It does seem that European campus life has been treating you marvelously.”

“It’s been great, alright. The food, the architecture, the view — I knew I made a good choice.”

Except he didn’t make the choice, as your father informed you over dinner once. His grandmother wanted him to study in Marseille, where his grandfather and father are alumni.

“Is that so? I’m glad to hear it,” he says, taking a long sip of his drink afterward. Odd how the white peaches don’t taste as sweet tonight.

“The best part though? The people. There’s so many hot people at campus, like you wouldn’t believe— I haven’t introduced my girlfriend yet, have I? Aimee, this is Baxter Ward. We were quite good friends back in high school. And Baxter, this is Aimee Joubert.”

He fucked you for two months before you called it off. Because you both certainly didn’t want ‘feelings’ to sprout, and your father would have jeopardized your families’ business connections if he knew that his business partner’s son also embraces men. Two months was the longest you could go without being found out.

Studying in Virginia is freeing in more ways than one, not that he’s ever stopped feeling like a caged bird.

His old dalliance’s new paramour smiles at him, all genteel and pretty. Her hair is dark as ebony, her skin a flawless porcelain, and her pearlescent smile effortless. Exactly as Edmond likes in his flings, and just what drew him to Baxter once upon a time. “Pleasure to meet you, Baxter.” Baxter wonders if Aimee is aware of Edmond’s upcoming engagement to another family friend of theirs. It’s none of his business, however.

Nodding, he greets back, “The pleasure is all mine, Aimee. I do hope that you and Edmond are having a wonderful summer here.”

The conversation carries on, but he eventually lets himself fade into the background. He watches his old classmates as they dance, flirt, and laugh; hale and hearthy, glowing golden with youth and long days spent tanning under the Californian sun. Beautiful and carefree. If he cocks his head just so, he could almost convince himself that these young adults are not so different from the new friends he made in Sunset Bird.

Two of them are set up to be in a loveless arranged marriage, but the profits that it will bring her father’s company overshadow her own prospective happiness. That guy — Arthur, was it? — is going to run his grandfather’s company down into the ground if he doesn’t stop gambling ludicrous amounts. And you? What are you doing here, Baxter Ward?

But he doesn’t belong with those people.

He belongs here.

Baxter is exactly like these hollow, beautiful people in their unending, laborious bouts of ennui and rapture. They seek the warmth of others from anything they could get their hands on: the warmth you get from the alcohol running rampant in your blood. The rush you attain from moving your body to the music, holding someone else flush against you. Anything that could substitute for real, human connection, but without the inconvenience of being weakened by it. Or working for it.

One or two people come to proposition him; Aimee had mentioned him to her friends as Edmond’s friend with the unique fashion-sense. He’s not daft to the knowledge that it’s code for weird fashion choices. She’s offered him up as a spectacle to point and laugh at, if not actually fuck.

This is his cue to excuse himself and turn in for the night. He may be as equally shallow as these people in most respects, but Baxter is trying his damnedest to hold on to some standards. And he’s quite certain that all he yearns for is the touch of the young woman he left behind in Sunset Bird.

But he wouldn’t drag her into his mess, not in that manner.

Coming here just reminds him of that; it fills him with leaden determination to not burden her. If she sees him now, would she still want to take him into her arms?

Wisteria across street! Just now psst. you awake? 2 more messages from Wisteria across street!

A picture of three beaming girls, looking far too pleased with themselves, stares back at him from his screen.

Wisteria’s face is pressed against a dark shoulder, her cheeks flushed red from laughter caught in a still frame. Her smile is subtler than the rest of her friends’, but the brightness in her eyes more than makes up for it. Arm slung around her shoulders, Terri appears to be holding the phone with her longer reach. And tucked under her chin, Miranda peers into the camera with the widest grin of them all. They’re all dressed in pajamas, red, yellow, and pink respectively; their hair done up with ribbons.

The timestamp tells him that this was three hours ago, at ten pm.

Sleepover with the besties, the attached message says.

It’s now 1 past midnight, after he had cleaned up to retire to bed. And yet her most recent message is mere seconds ago, when he had settled down underneath the covers. Choosing to browse his phone had been mere coincidence.

Twinkletoes: Is it truly a sleepover if you are not yet deep in slumber at your friend’s home, Ria? Wisteria across street!: too many thoughts in my head Wisteria across street!: didn’t want to bother terri and randy Twinkletoes: And yet you consider me a fitting outlet? That is quite a fascinating thought process, though I am pleased to be of use to you. Wisteria across street!: i had a hunch you’d be awake

He huffs to himself, amused, and turns over to lay flat on his stomach. The cacophony of noise outside — the party will continue for as long as his host damn well pleases — fades into the background as he considers what to tell her.

Honestly, she drives him mad.

She’s so adorable with her bobbed hair bedecked in red ribbon, far more unruly than he’s ever seen her. The red fabric droops over her head, reminiscent of a rabbit’s long, flopped ears. Any of the usual serenity from her argent eyes has given way to girlish joy, her lopsided smirk far too giddy to be smooth. It’s so shameless of her to send this to him when he’s so far away. He can’t even tug on that ribbon, lean down, and make her blush until the red creeps down her neck and even lower still.

Baxter wants to call her, he realizes. He’s barely spent two days away from Sunset Bird and he wants to hear her voice.

Twinkletoes: Are you by any chance amenable to a voice call from me? I understand if this is an inconvenience. You don’t have to accept it. Wisteria across street!: i’m in randy’s living room. it’s fine, call me. Twinkletoes: Then it’s settled. Let’s have a late-night chat, just the two of us night owls, shall we?

It doesn’t take but a few seconds for her to accept his call. Baxter rests his chin on his fist, lowering his gaze in thought. He knows it’s odd to let the call hang without any conversation between them, but faced with the opportunity to hear her now, he finds himself reticent. What does she think of the chatter and music that the phone will inevitably pick up, as clamorous as the area outside his room is?

“I’m here.” Her voice is muffled when it comes from his speaker. “It’s… whoa, it’s noisy over there. What’s up?”

When he replies, he tries to make his voice clear above the din, frowning at the sliding door. “My acquaintances are having a party, and as you can hear, it extends rather late. I have retired to the guest room, but I must admit that sleep will elude me for a while yet.”

“Oh… That’s unfortunate.” A rustling noise, as if she’s moving. “I made some hot chocolate, Randy has a ton of those packets lying around in the kitchen for some reason. She told me I could have some earlier.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Perhaps it’s because she’s aware that one of her dear friends likes them.”

“Maybe. So, are you enjoying yourself there?”

“My old classmate’s residence is as nice as can be anticipated,” he murmurs. “Though I must confess that the pool is rather less of a view than a poppy-dotted hill within walking distance of your house.” That hill is in her literal backyard. He’s seen it before, sitting with her in the living room. An idyllic field of verdant green, white flowers blooming all across it like stars in the sky.

Part of him has been interested in setting foot there, but one thing always holds him back. Wisteria hasn’t invited him to see it with her.

You want her to ask you.

“Oh. I should take you there stargazing, at some point, now that you bring it up. Have you ever tried that before?”

“Stargazing? Hmm. There are some appropriate locations for it, back in my hometown; it’s a mountainous area, I recall telling you before.” He represses the memories of hiking through a mountain path, of a dark-haired youth immersing himself in the laughter and chatter of old friends.

“Well, the view on our hill is good. Let’s make it a date sometime, then.”

“I look forward to it.”

They talk until his eyelids grow heavy under their own weight, and he hears a yawn from the other end of the call. By the time they’re finished, the music has dwindled outside. And by the time he allows himself to sink into the warm embrace of sleep, the sky outside is beginning to lighten with the arrival of dawn.

“Is that your current girl?” Edmond raises his brows, leaning over his shoulder. “Small and cute, isn’t she? And on the unique side, she has a fashion statement just as you do. All that red. You know what they say about girls who wear lots of that color, right?”

He has to smother a growl at the invasion of his privacy, has to ignore the implications about his girlfriend, has to smooth it all away with a sharp smile. Baxter stares demurely at his brunch, locking his phone screen and picking up his knife and fork. “She’s been a darling to me since I started summering in this state. And she does have a name, I would appreciate it if you would refer to her properly. Wisteria Blanc.”

The gears turn behind his old flame’s eyes. He knows the process: this man will try to match the name to a face. Is Baxter’s current fling from someone within their circles? A heiress, perhaps? “Blanc? Hm, I think Dad knows someone… Hold on. My younger cousin, Elanor? She has a classmate called Leandra Blanc. Does that ring a bell to you?”

Oddly enough, it does.

But he can’t place where he’s heard it, at the moment. “No, it doesn’t. She is not acquainted with any of our circle in Oregon, as far as I am aware.”

“Someone your parents didn’t vet for you?” A moment later, he gets a heavy pat on his shoulders. “Ooh, she’s been real good, I see.” The grin on Edmond’s face is lecherous, hiding nothing of his opinion. Baxter’s blood boils in his veins; now, he can’t recall why he ever allowed this man into his bed, with his lack of respect towards women. Loneliness, of course, though he will insist that it’s only to slake a physical need. The man snickers once again, oblivious to his uncharitable thoughts. “Enjoy yourself, my friend. Asians are incredible when it comes to having fun.”

Loosen your grip around your knife. It’s unsightly.

This week cannot end soon enough.

His lesson learned, Baxter begrudgingly sets off early on his drive back towards Sunset Bird. It passes by in a blur for him, trying as he might to appreciate the view of the coastline from the highway. By the time he sees the Welcome to Sunset Bird sign drawing closer in the distance, he musters together the mask he’s reinforced with his time among his social class. It remains snug on his face.

Good. That laborious trip served its purpose, by the end.

Remembering his promise to her, he has scarcely settled his suitcase by the entryway of his condo when he decides to see her.

The Blanc residence’s doorstep is well-lit, even with the late hour. He knocks; once, twice, thrice. It takes but a few seconds until the door swings open, and Wisteria eyes him.

She raises her brows, pulling the door further open.

“Good evening, Wisteria. I’ve returned from my journey, whole and unscathed as you requested,” he murmurs, low and warm. “I feel I’ve been away for an age.” It truly feels like that, though she will never know the extent of the truth. He lowers his face, obliging the hand that comes up to tug him down by the collar.

Wisteria squints at him, trailing her fingers across his cheek.

Seeing as she’s yet to say anything, Baxter continues, basking in her touch after one lengthy week. “That arrangement had seemed like a stroke of brilliance.” And it had been, even if he felt like he just swallowed a sour lemon at some parts of it. “It certainly added more adventure to my stay within the state, and assured me that I’d see friendly faces at least once in the season.”

Friendly, you say?

Her hand lowers as he finishes, “Yet, truthfully, I wouldn’t have promised such a lengthy trip away from town if I had known that my neighbor was going to be you.” But he would certainly take on the promise, if it means reinforcing his own flimsy morals for her sake. He chases after her hand, bringing it back up to his face. “As pleasant as they were, it simply doesn’t compare to what I have here.”

She stares up at him, and at the hand cupping hers to his cheek. “I missed you.”

As straightforward and no-nonsense as always, when it came to these matters. He had considered himself prepared. But facing her, he once again finds himself surprised — the part of himself that expects her regard for him to simmer down after a week of being apart, it flinches at her honesty.

Baxter masks this with a coy grin. “I missed you as well.” Giving one more nuzzle into her hand, he lets her go.

“Okay, come on, let’s talk inside.”

He follows her inside. The family living room is half-dimmed; only the lights above the seating area are lit up. His attention is drawn to the stacks of books scattered across the coffee table. Who spends their summer reading books on economics or precalculus? He’s momentarily stumped at the sight of the graphing paper, and the calculator he just now notices. He cocks his head, filing away this detail about her for later.

“I was studying ahead,” she mutters once she follows his look. “Couldn’t be too prepared, even if we haven’t gotten the acceptance letters yet.”

What has she been doing in the past week? Staying at home, studying, aside from that one sleepover?

“It’s surprising. Ria usually doesn’t go out much, but this summer seems to be all about experiencing as much as she could before she goes to college. And you are part of why she doesn’t stay holed up inside.”

Elizabeth’s words echo in his head, and further cements for him that his girlfriend may be more introverted than she allows herself to appear. For her to put herself out there, so much, to strive to be bolder — and all for a person like him. It makes him want to hold her tight, to tell her she doesn’t have to go so far just for a summer tourist soon to leave. A larger part of him wants to be selfish, and hoard this little realization to himself.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

As they settle down on the couch, he risks a glance at her. “Now, I hope I’m not being too forward.”

“You? Perish the thought,” Wisteria mutters, batting her lashes at him when he sharpens his gaze. Brat. “Anyway, don’t worry about that.”

“I would like to spend more time with you,” Baxter says, watching her. “In fact, I was wondering if I might take you on a date. I did speak so boldly of that desire before, and I believe it’s long overdue. If that’s what you want, of course.”

Wisteria raises her brow, as if she has waited for this all along. “You know my answer. I’ve been waiting for this.”

The morning date that follows is a disaster of epic proportions; at least it seemed so, within a nineteen-year-old’s reckoning. Baxter doesn’t learn to look fondly upon it until he’s gained a modicum of humility and self-awareness, five years later, when it’s far too late for him to appreciate.

Author's Comment: …. i'm so sorry. why is this chapter 6k words;; will need to revise it to trim down any fluff when i've got the time.

writing 'fuck you' rich people is kinda tough, though i LOL'ed when i included the word 'summering' within this chapter. because baxter would totally be the sort of guy to have 'summered' somewhere, i grant him that

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#our life: beginnings & always #our life #olba #baxter ward #baxter ward x mc #fanfiction #luna's fics #writing #i forgot to upload this yesterday

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autism-archey · 1 year

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@hunter-sylvester tagged me in this, my very first tag game, so thanks hunter!! you are a pioneer of Metal Lords fan content, pls keep doing what you're doing!

3 Ships:

steddie, but listen, i don't Like season 4 of stranger things. i think the plot/writing was bad actually, but. i stuck around for steve, because damn they're good at writing characters and i loved his seasons 1-3 arc. steve & eddie have incredible chemistry that everyone else has already talked about but listen bro. what if they were t4t.

frerard, but listennn its for the DYNAMICS. i feel like frerard fics have like, mythologized this pairing into something distinct from those real people that are alive and exist. they've lifted the personas and adpoted them onto some really incredible works of fiction... there are archetypes and characteristics and relationship dynamics that i see over and over and over again, always distinctly non-normative and queer, and god dammit it gets me ever time.

i'm struggling to come up with a third... i think The Batman (2021) Selina and Bruce. actually yes this one definitely. god i fucking love those two. my heart like actually ached when she left at the end.

First Ship Ever:

This is going back a long time but I wanna say it was Stucky or Destiel that really had me first. which honestly i was right about that, those white guys have chemistry! i used to eat up post-winter soldier fics all the time and i always end up coming back to them. something about bucky on the run or holed up and scared as his memories struggle to come back, and then steve being the first person to be gentle with him. anyway

Last Song:

my god let me tell you. i listened to ethel cain for the first time today (Golden Age) and i immediately started like crying in the car and then i wrote more poetry than i have in maybe months? that was hours ago and i'm still neck deep in her discography =D

Last Movie:

Avatar: the way of water!!! Avatar is basically a new special interest for me and I'm learning sooo much about it. also this movie is Worth going to the fancy theater for.

Currently Reading:

Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins. i think this is the first time I'm rereading the hunger games, and I'm so glad i picked it up over christmastime bc 1) i got sucked into it and finished it in like a day and a half; and 2) what an incredible fictional depiction of revolution. like katniss' character arc, the emphasis on solidarity and community over and over and over again, every detail adds so much.

Vine Deloria Jr.'s The World We Used to Live In, which is packed with American Indian stories on spirituality and medicine men. i only just started it but i'm clinging onto his words like they're air. which, in the busted concrete version of the world now, they might as well be.

Currently Watching:

Dimension 20's Neverafter, which is premiering weekly rn (too slow! agonizing!!) and is just beginning, but already getting really fucking good. I keep my copy of Grimms' fairy tales in the bathroom now lol and the stories are crazy. The boy who could not fear had me at the edge of my toilet fr!!

Currently Consuming:

i mean where's the post that's like "autism costs families $60,000 a year" "all that weed im smoking"

Currently Craving:

my boyfriend come back :( when you're here you always put my head back on my shoulders the right way but it gets all messed up every time you leave

i dont think i have anyone to tag but mayve i'll edit & update with a tag later!

#uh #idk wtf tag this as #thoughts #thiswas really fun actually and made me feel better off of a bad day :)

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spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

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summary: a soothing voice leads to a crush.

pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner

warnings: pining, fluff, food mention, kissing

an: this was supposed to be something short and sweet for Valentine’s Day but now it’s almost 3k so…yeah. the smutty one is coming tomorrow my friends! i feel like this is fluffy but like in the softest way, it feels so real to me. the 1st poem is success is counted sweetest by emily dickinson, 2nd is wind on the island by pablo neruda. i hope you spend some time with someone you love, romantic or not <3

word count: 2.74k

masterlist

The first time it happens is on the jet. The rest of the team is sleeping soundly, or pouring over files but you’re taking a much needed break, reading to clear your mind.

Hotch is feeling the pressure, caged in by the retelling and memories of this case as he scribbles across the page. He needs to finish this but things are jumbled and loud in his head, the pieces shouting at each other instead of falling in line. He needs a reprieve, to catch his breath and recalibrate. Glancing up from his work his eyes fall on you, cuddled in the corner booth with reading glasses and a book.

Tea and a check in should do just fine.

You don’t think much of it when Hotch stands from his seat but minutes later he’s hovering, arm outstretched with a cup of tea. It isn’t uncharacteristic for him to reach out to a member of the team like this, but you are surprised that he’s chosen you. You’ve been on the team for a good year and half, you know that he cares about you, but you feel like you haven’t fallen into ranks with him just yet.

With a lazy smile you set down your book, noting the page before taking the cup of tea from him. “Thanks for this.”

He gives you a nod in response, taking the seat across from you. “Are you alright?”

“Me? Oh, yeah, I’m good.”

“Usually, you work on your supplemental report during the flight so it’s done when we land.”

Another surprise; he watches you. He knows your habits, and you wonder now if knows your tells. You’ll have to talk to Emily about that.

“I just needed a minute. Sometimes you need separation.”

“By reading,” he reaches across the table and picks up your book, “The Poetry of Emily Dickinson?”

“That’s my choice for today, yes.”

“And it helps?”

“May I?” You hold your hand out for the book, eyes gleaming in the dim light of the cabin.

He stares at you for a beat before handing over the book. You turn to what seems like a random page and start to read:

Success is counted sweetest

By those who ne'er succeed.

To comprehend a nectar

Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple Host

Who took the Flag today

Can tell the definition

So clear of victory

As he defeated – dying –

On whose forbidden ear

The distant strains of triumph

Burst agonized and clear!

You are captivating, and your voice is silky, bewitching, lingering with something it doesn’t when you aren’t reading. The words spill out of your mouth, soft and sweet, your tongue curling around the pronunciation in your own unique way.

Hotch grows to love your voice, it’s a treat, a privilege, something he thinks he’ll never get enough of. It’s how the two of you end up in his office at least once a week, with a book of poetry perched in your hands. There’s always that pair of glasses on your face, ones he thinks suits you. This time with you, a sliver of peace between writing reports and returning home, has become one of his favorite things he’s ever had.

He knows that this is harmful. He’s straddling a line with you, toying with the idea of personal and professional. It’s alright to be friends with your coworkers, he knows that. He’s done his fair share of blurring the lines, drinking scotch and coaching soccer with Rossi. He’s been to the boxing ring with Morgan and JJ, seen Penelope’s plays with Emily, and played chess in the park with Spencer.

But this is different. This line he’s trying so desperately not to blur is different, you’re different and the way he feels when you read stanzas line by line to him is different.

You enjoy the time you spend with Hotch just as much as he does, but you won’t let yourself entertain the idea that it’s anything more than two coworkers hanging out. He’s your boss, the most capable man you’ve ever known, and he has his own life with a kid. Even if the feelings were mutual, you’re not sure if there’s a place for you in his life beyond being his subordinate. Your resolve is uncomplicated. You have a thing with everyone on the team: cooking, pottery, shopping, film. This is your thing with Hotch, it’s as simple as that.

____

It’s Valentine’s Day, and Garcia has gone all out. It seems like she started in her office, and when she ran out of room there she hit everyone’s desks, with red tinsel, candy, and heart shaped decorations. It’s cute, very Garcia and it gets the entire bullpen buzzing about the anticipation of what a day like today holds. It doesn’t mean anything to you, and it means even less to Hotch (so you think) but you have plans with part of the team and though he’s never mentioned it you assume he has someone in his life.

It’s a little after noon, and you round the corner in the break room to refill your empty mug with coffee. You’re met with the sight of Hotch, who’s looking down at his phone as the coffee machine shudders and beeps.

“Hey, Hotch.” Leaning against the counter, you watch as he picks up the full pot, filling his mug.

“(Y/L/N).”

“How’s your day going?”

“Busy, I’ll be here for a while. If you’re having a late day, you’re welcome to join me, we could order something for dinner.” His suggestion surprises you, usually the two of you eat once you’ve gone your separate ways.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I have plans tonight, it’s Valentine’s Day, remember?”

“Right, I’m sorry for assuming, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“No, no, I’m not, it was Palentine’s Day stuff.” You explain, and he raises an eyebrow. “You know, when you and your pals are single, so you end up doing stuff together? Because platonic love is just as important as romantic.”

You see it happen, watch how his shoulders drop just an inch, how his eyes dim and lips flatten further into that familiar line. His voice is sincere though when he says, “Right. I hope you have a good time.”

He fills your mug before heading out of the break room. You almost follow him but instead you make a left out of the breakroom and head to Garcia’s office to tell her you won’t be able to make it tonight. You use the excuse of overdue reports, sighting that you might show up later if it’s still a reasonable time. She’s disappointed but understands and just that easily, your evening is cleared to be spent with Hotch.

At 5:30 the bullpen is fairly empty. You can see Reid in JJ’s office, Emily and Rossi have taken off and you assume that Derek’s in Garcia’s office since his stuff is still at his desk. Anyone else in the office you’re not worried about so you grab the stack of files and head up to Hotch’s office, knocking on his office door before closing it so there’s just a crack when you step in.

“Drop off?” Hotch doesn’t even look up, his pen still moving across the page.

“No, I cancelled my plans, thought I’d keep you company.”

He looks up with a frown, eyebrows pulled together. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don't, but no one should be alone tonight.”

He sets down his pen, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he thinks this through. You’re here so he might as well give you what he bought. He wasn’t looking for them, but he’d been in the store with Jack and seen them. It’s loaded to give them to you today even though they’re a very plain box of chocolates, no themed colors or decorations. But, he wants to give them to you if not just as a thank you for being here with him tonight when you had plans.

“Hotch?”

“I got you something.” He opens the top drawer to his left, reaching in for the box and placing it on his desk in front of you.

“You got these f-for me?” You ask as you pick up the box.

“I did.”

“They’re my favorite.”

“They are.”

You look down at them, and then back up at him with a shy smile. “Well…thank you, I don’t know what to say.”

His returning smile is just as shy, but smaller, his eyes are tender. “You don’t have to say anything, they’re just for you to enjoy.”

“Aaron, I didn’t get you anything, I didn’t realize.”

The way his name rolls off your tongue, he loves your voice, didn’t know how sweet his name could sound. He could melt into a puddle right here, right now, but he needs to stay objective and professional.

“It’s alright, I wasn’t expecting you to get me anything, we’re colleagues. Generally colleagues don’t get each other gifts.” He’s rambling a little, and embarrassed by it.

“No, I didn’t realize you had feelings for me too, let alone that either of us would act on them.”

“Too?”

“Too.” With no hesitation you ask, “Do you want to sit with me while I read?”

Both of you can’t help but wonder if it would have always been this easy or if it’s the sweetness of the holiday. Feelings are out in the open and you’re just as cool and collected, things feel the same, like what you’re doing hasn’t changed though everything has. Coming out of the dark and standing in the light is effortless, and which one of you is more grateful this has happened is a competition.

Hotch’s cheeks heat, a soft pink blush spreading through his cheeks and down his neck. “Sure, I’d like that.”

You take your usual seat on the couch, kicking your shoes off and propping your feet on the table as you rummage through your bag for a book. Hotch joins you, delicately placing his arm on the couch behind you. He’s close, and wants to be closer but he keeps a small amount of space between the two of you in case you aren’t ready.

“What are we reading today?”

You finally find the book, holding it up in triumph before leaning into him. The feeling of you against him is warm and welcomed, and for a moment he just closes his eyes, letting himself soak in a moment he never thought he’d get.

“In the theme of Valentine’s Day I’ve been reading Pablo Neruda’s book of love poems this week. I think that’s perfect, don’t you?” You turn to look at him, your noses just inches apart. When you find that his eyes are closed you touch his cheek softly and his blink open before widening.

His voice is caught in his throat so he nods, clearing it. “Perfect.”

The wind is a horse:

hear how he runs through the sea, through the sky.

He wants to take me: listen

how he roves the world

to take me far away.

Hide me in your arms just for this night, while the rain breaks against sea and earth its innumerable mouth.

Listen how the wind

calls to me galloping

to take me far away.

With your brow on my brow

with your mouth on my mouth

our bodies tied

to the love that consumes us

let the wind pass and not take me away.

Let the wind rush crowned with foam,

let it call to me and seek me galloping in the shadow,

while I, sunk beneath your big eyes,

just for this night shall rest, my love.

Once you’re doing reading there’s a silence that hangs in the air. “Well? Thoughts? You usually have so much to say.”

“I liked it.” He says simply and you lean back to assess him, eyebrow quirked.

“Liked it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

“I like the sound of your voice when you’re reading it. I like the way it made me feel.”

“Well, I like you.”

That blush is creeping up his neck and into his cheeks again. “I-I like you too.”

“Do you want to kiss me?” You grin up at him, looking playfully alluring and it makes him breathless.

“Yes.”

“Kiss me, Aaron.”

His eyes fall to your mouth, watching as your tongue sweeps over your bottom lip before looking up to meet your gaze. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” You murmur, leaning forward so that your noses touch, your breath mingles.

His hand traces your cheek before cupping it, holding you still as he leans forward until his lips press gently against yours. It’s an unhurried kiss, not lazy, just slow and thorough. You can’t help but sag into him, opening wider to not only grant him access to you but to gain access yourself, your tongue pushing into his mouth. He lets out a small grunt, one that stirs things inside of you that you haven’t felt in a long time. His free hand roams before finding its place at the back of your head, but you’re a little more loose, trailing fingers down his chest to the soft flesh of his tummy.

It’s too late, the knock is too soft and then the door is open and your tongue is slipping out of his mouth when Garcia squeaks out, “Oh my god.”

“Penelope-“

“This is why you said no to coming out with us?”

You stand to your feet, wiping the edges of your mouth with your fingertips. “Not this specifically, no,”

Reid peaks his head into the office, looking offended and confused, and you feel your embarrassment amplifying. “Wait, you said no to us so you could work on files with Hotch?”

“No, they said no to us so they could smooch Hotch.”

“Who’s smooching Hotch?” Derek’s head pops in above Garcia’s.

“(Y/L/N)?” Reid clarifies, though it comes out of his mouth like a question.

“Excuse me?”

“What’s going on?” JJ maneuvers her head between Garcia and Reid’s and now you know that the entire unit will know by the end of the night.

“(Y/L/N) is skipping out on Palentine’s day with me, Emily and Spencer to smooch Hotch.” Garcia repeats, and Hotch thinks if he hears the word smooch one more time he might just scream.

“I’m never shutting up about this.”

“You all are ruining the moment.” Hotch finally speaks up and you glance back at him, your expression apologetic.

“I’m sorry but when you catch your best friend and your best boss kissing,” Garcia begins.

“That was our first kiss.” He murmurs in a low, frustrated voice.

“Your first kiss is on Valentine’s Day?” JJ leans her head on Garcia’s shoulder, sounding a little dreamy. Hotch drops his head into his hands, shaking it.

“Alright, that’s enough, I will make it up to you guys, but Aaron and I still have a lot to talk about and I won't let it be ruined by the nosey peanut gallery.”

Now it’s Derek who looks offended, “Peanut gallery?”

“Out.” You move towards the door, ignoring all their pleas for information as you shut and lock it. “I’m sorry, we probably shouldn’t have done this in the office.”

“We learned our lesson, we know better for next time.” He pats the place next to him, asking you to return. That quickly he’s grown accustomed to your warmth.

“Next time.” You agree, sliding on the couch next to him and placing a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I think it’s time for you to eat some of those chocolates. I’ll read to you.”

“Are you sure you know how to read? I kind of assumed that’s why I was doing it.” You tease.

He gives you a look, before leaning in to bump your nose with his. “Shut up.”

“Just let me know if you need help with pronunciation.” You quip at him, tearing open the box of chocolates.

His sliver of peace has become a little less peaceful, but he’s alright with that as long as he gets you.

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @ssahotchie, @azenpal, @chelseyjoyce, @hotchwhore15, @dadbodhotch11, @ssamorganhotchner, @choppa-style, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @spngirl05, @g-l-pierce, @qtip-blog, @scuttling, @akira-155, @j-cat, @laurensprentiss, @ssa-montgomery, @thinking-bucky, @silvermercy, @lilacprentiss, @fightingdragonswithreid, @vintagesubmariner, @ashhotchner, @moonshine-evelyn, @emlynblack, @ssahotchnerxx, @sunshinexhotchner, @dindjarinneedsahug, @angelfxllcm, @ssahotchslover, @wheelsupkels, @multiverse-mxdness, @jaspxr, @gspenc, @sadgirlml, @hotchs-bitch, @sarahpaulsonsgf

#gn!reader x aaron hotchner #gn reader x aaron hotchner #gender neutral reader x aaron hotchner #you x hotch #you x aaron hotchner #yn x aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner/reader #reader x aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fan fiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #arson writes

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jessikahathaway · 2 years

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Taming the Beast - Part IV

Thank you to @knjsnoona for the impeccable banner. Amelia, you are wonder. And thank you to @queenofthedamnit. My lovely beta Ryn, who puts up with my whining on the daily. Love you b.

But please enjoy! I worked hard on this chapter for you <3

Pairing: Kim Taehyung (V) X Reader

Genre: Romance, Prince!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut (Haha, it's here).

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence, Gender inequality, smut in the form of: oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do as I write peeps safe sex is great sex), dom/sub dynamics, dom!Tae, sub!Reader, dirty talk, he calls her princess. (If I forgot anything please let me know nicely, thank you!)

Words: 6.9k

Summary: You were the next in line to be the head of your village, when your mother gave you to the enemy to save your people from merciless slaughter. What happens when they try to Tame a Beast?

The guards separated you and Taehyung shortly after the wedding feast.

You were whisked away by the handmaidens and taken up to a different portion of the palace. You were no longer in your own wing, no, this was different. They shoved you into another bath, scrubbing exceptionally hard.

“Ouch! Hey, watch it!” you growled.

“Shush, you are about to be presented to the Prince and you need to be as perfect as we can get you,” one maid said.

You bit your lip. There was aggression in their movements. They were either jealous or angry that a ‘savage’ like you was going to bed their beloved Prince. How utterly ridiculous. Taehyung was probably going to be far too frightened to bed you.

They wrapped you in pretty fabric, but it was easy to undo. You tried to calm your racing heart as they fluffed your hair lightly, but kept it wet.

“How do you think she looks?” One of the maids asked, looking at you with an appraising stare. Like you were some kind of object. Your blood boiled, but you sat still.

“It’ll have to do,” one older maid said, “we must hurry, the Prince will be waiting for her.”

You look at the ring on your finger, and in this moment, you missed Elaine’s gentle touches. She may have disliked you, but she never insulted you. Well, at least to your face anyways. Or maybe she did.

Whatever, you liked Elaine better than these brats.

Soon, you were walking down the hall in your silks and bare feet.

There were guards outside Taehyung’s door. Ah yes, to confirm the consummation. Well, best to get it over with rather than agonize for months.

The door opened and you were practically thrown inside. You heard the slamming of the wood and knew you were sealed in for the night. Gingerly, you lifted your head and saw Taehyung sitting on the other side of the bed. He was in a white loose shirt, looking out the window as he sat still in the night light.

You didn’t know what to say. You knew he was aware of your presence. But you didn’t want to disturb him.

After a while of standing Taehyung spoke.

“Are you scared?” He asked.

“Not much scares me, you certainly don’t,” you answered.

“What scares you?” He asked. You wondered what this had to do with consummation of your marriage, but you played along.

“Truly…?”

You thought for a moment, what did scare you?

Taehyung waited for you to answer.

“Failure. Being a disappointment to my people. That scares me,” you answered honestly.

Taehyung seemed to mull your words over in his head.

“Taehyung-”

“I’m scared of the same thing.”

“Of failure?” You questioned.

“Being a disappointment, failure… I’m scared of it all,” Taehyung whispered.

“Well, I can’t tell you you won’t fail. I’m not certain I won’t fail either. But, what matters is learning from your mistakes. Those who ignore their failures are ignorant, they only see their achievements, not their losses. People who take their losses into account, win more.”

Taehyung was silent.

“I’ve failed you,” he said. “I’ve been a terrible fiancé.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being in love, and I’m sorry you had to lose her the way you did,” you said. Taehyung had been mourning the loss of Elaine, but the wedding and planning had put a wrench in his grieving.

Especially now that they wanted him to bed another woman.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Taehyung said weakly.

You’d figured this would be hard for him. But if you didn’t consummate this marriage then you’d both be in trouble. You’d be under more ridicule than you already were, and Taehyung would no doubt be in for another beating…

“Taehyung,” you whispered.

“What?” He asked, turning towards you.

“It’s okay to be nervous, but, it’s just me.”

“I know, but, Elaine was the only one I’ve ever-”

“Do you trust me?” You asked, looking at him from across the room.

Taehyung was silent for a moment. Your heart was in your throat.

“Yes, I trust you,” he said quietly.

“Then can I come closer?”

“Yes,” he said even softer.

You walked forward and sat down on the bed.

You’d never really been one for a delicate approach to anything, but you were slowly starting to understand this man. And your usual methods weren’t going to be helpful with him.

Generally you didn’t care about things like that, but with Taehyung you’d both gone through so much together. Even if it felt like you were alone in this huge palace, Taehyung was probably feeling the same thing right now.

And maybe you could change that.

“We don’t have to hide from each other. We’re married now. We should at the very least be allies with one another,” you stated.

“Allies?” he asked, softly underneath his breath.

“Yes. Your court isn’t too pleased I’m an outsider, your court is also not pleased that you’ve been in relations with a servant girl.”

Taehyung winced at that.

“Really, if you look at it, all we have is each other. So why not be allies at the very least?”

Taehyung thought for a moment.

“What do you want from being allies?” he asked.

“I want to see my mother again,” you said, soft and gentle. Like the word was the most valuable thing in your possession.

“You want to see your mother? I thought your tribe was to follow you now,” he said.

“Just because they follow me doesn’t guarantee me seeing my mother. I want you to find a way for me to see her,” you explained.

“And what would I get out of you being my ally?” he asked.

“My cooperation, and loyalty,” you announced.

“Cooperation?”

“Yes, I will be a model bride for you. And I will be loyal to you. Only you,” you said with conviction.

“You swear it?”

“I swear on my father’s grave,” you declared.

“Very well, I will see about getting you and your mother reunited. But in the meantime, behave yourself,” he sighed.

“I will do my very best,” you said.

The room was silent for a few moments, before you spoke again.

“Shall we consummate our marriage now?” you asked, raising a brow and looking at the bed.

Taehyung choked.

“I-I don’t think-”

“We have to, don’t we? Lest they find our marriage null and void in the morning and you no longer have access to my warriors,” you asked.

Taehyung cursed, a sharp tone that made your ears perk.

“You’re right, but-”

You stood up and dropped your dressing gown, revealing your naked body.

Taehyung’s eyes bulged out of his head as he averted his gaze.

“What are you doing?” he asked, shocked.

“You're my husband now, aren’t you supposed to look?” you asked, confused.

“Well, yes but-”

“There’s no need to drag this out longer than we have to, so let’s just get to it,” you said, placing your hands confidently on your hips.

Taehyung’s eyes remained off of you.

“Have you ever... been with anyone?” he asked.

“No, but that shouldn’t be a problem, correct?”

Taehyung swallowed audibly.

“It’s painful for a woman’s first time,” he warned.

“I’m sure I’ve suffered worse,” you said, waving him off.

“When did you last bleed?” He questioned, his head turned away from you still.

“Why do you ask?” You wondered aloud.

“Because I’m not ready for children yet,” he whispered.

Your mouth opened and shut for a moment. Elaine had been claiming a pregnancy before she’d died, but there was no proof either way. You understood Taehyung’s wanting to wait, you weren’t ready for a child yet either.

“The risk is low right now,” you said.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath before turning his head and taking in your body. You stood still, letting him get acclimated to the sight. Slowly, he lifted his arm and placed a cool hand on your warm flesh. Taehyung rubbed over your scarred skin. Fights from your training as a child had marred your body, but right now instead of being disgusted like you’d expected, Taehyung was gently caressing every raised inch of your skin.

“You must have trained hard,” he said quietly.

“I trained every day, sometimes until well after sunset,” you told him.

You placed your hand on his head, running your fingers through his silky tresses. Taehyung leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on your hip. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you watched his mouth trail along your lower stomach.

“Your skin is soft,” Taehyung said, looking up at you.

“Well, I was scrubbed like a stain on a dress, I’d imagine I would be,” you scoffed.

His once gentle hands tightened on you, making your face turn questioning.

“Who bathed you, and why were they rough with you?” He asked.

“I don’t remember Taehyung, there were several maids coming and going. Does it matter?” You wondered.

“Yes, I won’t let the staff abuse my wife. They’re meant to serve you, not treat you like an animal,” Taehyung said.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. It was now Taehyung’s turn to be confused.

“Quite a big change this ring has caused,” you said, holding up your hand. Taehyung frowned.

“It shouldn’t have been that way, I apologize. I should’ve seen you as an ally at the least, not a hindrance. But I want to change that, we can work together,” Taehyung said, looking up at you with his dark eyes.

Something in your stomach turned at the sight of him looking up at you. Not in a bad way either, but you felt almost feverish. Looking deep into the eyes of possibly the only person in this world that you could trust.

But what if he betrays you?

What if it’s all a ploy?

Do you risk it?

“Let me try, let me try to make it up to you,” Taehyung pleaded, lips finding your skin once more.

An involuntary noise came from you, a soft sigh, something so gentle and relaxed coming from your mouth. Taehyung’s brows shot up in surprise. You bit your lip and tried to fight the heat on your face.

“W-Was that you?”

“I-I’ve never-”

Taehyung cut you off by placing his mouth back over your lower stomach. He moved his hands to your thighs so you spread them apart slightly.

Encouraged by your movement, Taehyung got on his knees on the floor.

“Let me taste you,” he breathed against your center. His eyes flickered to yours for approval. You swallowed hard before nodding.

Carefully, Taehyung placed a gentle kiss to your womanhood. You felt his tongue come out and lick at you gingerly, as if he was afraid to scare you off. Never had you been handled in such a way. Taehyung’s hands on the backs of your thighs urged you closer.

You moved according to his direction, bringing your hips closer to his pink lips. You watched with morbid curiosity as he licked along your slit. Collecting your flavor on his tongue and bringing you sharp pleasure.

“A-ah!” You cried when Taehyung’s tongue found your entrance. He dipped inside for just a moment before going back to lave across your pearl. Your heart was beating so hard. You weren’t sure what this sensation was, but it was something you were becoming addicted to.

“Is it alright? Are you okay?” Taehyung asked, watching you with rapt attention.

He was beyond nervous.

You could see it plain as day on his face, but so were you. It was rare for you to feel so out of your depth, but right now you had no idea what to do.

“I think so,” you swallowed thick, focusing back in on Taehyung’s tongue sampling you.

“If something doesn’t feel good, tell me,” he said seriously.

“I will,” you promised.

“Good, do you want to lie down?” He asked, looking at his large bed.

“Yes, that’s most efficient,” you said, clearing your throat. You laid down on the bed, while Taehyung got up from the floor.

“It’s about what’s comfortable not efficient,” Taehyung said softly, trailing his hands along your legs, spreading them open so he could settle between them.

You gazed at him for a moment. He came back to your center, bringing his mouth to your wet core and continued to pleasure you.

Without meaning to, you let out a little gasp when he pushed his tongue inside you again.

“Do you like that?” He asked, licking his lips.

“I-I don’t know,” you flushed.

“I think you do,” Taehyung said, but there wasn’t smugness in his tone.

“Think so?” You asked softly.

“Yes, you’re still wet, getting wetter,” he said, rubbing his thumb through your folds gently, making your hips jut lightly.

“I can’t help it,” you frowned.

“Y/N,” Taehyung said quietly.

“Yes?” You raised a brow.

“Can I put my fingers inside you?”

“Why?” You couldn’t help but ask, why was he drawing this out?

“B-Because I need to prep you before I-uh… Before I put myself inside of you. Otherwise it’ll hurt,” Taehyung explained.

“I see, you think I can’t handle whatever-”

“It’s really not like that Y/N, I honestly just want to make this as painless as possible,” he said, looking at you with his deep eyes.

Taehyung knew you were going to be difficult.

But you were just nervous, Taehyung couldn’t fault you for that.

He was just as nervous. If not more so.

“Okay, do what you think is best,” you said, biting your lip harshly.

Taehyung nodded. Putting his fingers in his mouth before rubbing them along your slick gingerly. Slowly, Taehyung inserted one finger. You felt the stretch and burn, but it wasn’t painful per se. It was more of an aching feeling than anything.

“Does it hurt?”

“N-No, just…”

“Want me to move a little?”

“Just a little,” you breathed.

“Okay, just relax, it’s okay,” Taehyung said, moving his finger out a touch before pushing back in.

“Oh,” you sighed, resting your head back on the bed.

“Good?” He asked.

“Y-Yeah, feels good,” you said, letting the pleasure wash over you.

Taehyung nodded and pushed his finger back and forth within you, creating a terribly wanton ache within you. Taehyung kept moving slowly, stretching you out with his finger.

“T-Taehyung,” you hiccuped.

“What is it?”

“I-I want m-more,” you said, feeling the heat rise to your face. Taehyung smiled lightly, but nodded nonetheless.

“Okay, two fingers?” He asked.

“Yes,” you whined out.

Taehyung was trying not to smirk, but it was hard when you were such a submissive in bed. Wanting the pleasure, wanting it all. Taehyung didn’t expect you to be so demure when you got in here. But now you’re writhing underneath him. His ego inflated, he couldn’t help it. The cold Princess finally letting her guard down.

“Just breathe for me, Y/N,” Taehyung said, pushing another finger inside your entrance.

“O-Oh!” You cried, gripping the sheets tightly between your fists.

“If this is how you react to two fingers I can’t wait to see what you look like on my cock,” Taehyung growled lowly.

The room became silent.

“Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to over step-”

“Please, I want it so bad,” you begged. Taehyung felt the cord within him snapping, slowly letting loose into his dominant persona.

“Yeah? Want this cock Princess? I bet you do,” he groaned when more of your slick gushed from your core.

“Give it to me Taehyung, please,” you pleaded.

Taehyung’s arm was starting to hurt with how fast he was thrusting it inside of you, but he wanted to make you cum at least once before fucking you. He could feel your insides tightening up, telling him you were close.

“Want you to cum, pretty Princess, cum for me,” he breathed, coming close to your face and placing a kiss to your lips.

“I-I feel-like I’m gonna fall apart,” you breathed harshly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Do it, do it for me Princess,” Taehyung almost pleaded.

“Oh shit, Taehyung!” You cried, before cuming all over his hand.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your eyes filled with tears from the intensity of your orgasm. Taehyung was breathing just as hard as you as he pulled his hand from your center, bringing it to your face.

“Taste yourself,” he said, tapping your lips with his slick fingers.

Opening your mouth slowly, Taehyung put his fingers in your mouth making you roll your tongue along his digits.

“Good girl, lick my fingers,” he encouraged. You licked and sucked with more enthusiasm. Taehyung groaned at the sensation, making your legs twitch with want. He pulled his cleaned fingers from your mouth and brought your lips together.

You traced your hands down his frame, finding the tie on his shirt and pulling it open. Cold palms found his warm flesh and you bit your lip in surprise. He was toned, but not overly so. His lower stomach was soft, but his arms were strong and firm when he pulled you on top of him.

Taehyung placed his hands gently on your sides, moving you against his warm body. You felt his throbbing cock through his pants. He was so hard…

“Move with me-oh, yesss, like that Princess,” Taehyung moaned.

“A-Am I doing it right?” You asked, looking down at Taehyung’s lust filled face.

“Perfect, doing so good,” he encouraged.

“Taehyung,” you whimpered out.

“Princess, wanna be inside you already,” he moaned.

“Yes, I want it, please,” you begged lightly.

Taehyung almost cried out when you ground down against his hardness.

“Want my cock Princess? Want it inside of you? Want my thick dick inside your tiny pussy?”

He was filthy. But it was doing everything to turn you on. You hardly could register the feelings swarming your mind right now. All you could feel was Taehyung, and he felt so good.

Taehyung brought you closer, kissing your neck and biting down on the delicate flesh there.

“Oh!” Taehyung frantically took his pants off while you pulled at his sleeves in longing.

“Soon Princess, soon,” he said, kissing you once more.

“Mmm, Taehyung, hurry and put it in,” you pleaded.

Taehyung pulled off his shirt and threw it to the side, now just as bare as you. You smiled and ran your hands over his body, the warmth of him bringing you further into the moment.

“Are you ready Princess? Ready for my cock?”

“Yes, Taehyung, please,” you beseeched.

“Okay Princess, you’ll get it,” Taehyung said, spitting onto your pussy and lining himself up with your entrance.

Slowly, he eased himself inside of you. You watched Taehyung’s face morph into what looked like pain but you knew it was pleasure. You felt the fullness overwhelming you.

“H-Hold on,” you said, breathless.

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stop?” Taehyung asked, frantic.

“No no, I’m fine. I just need a moment,” you said, breathing deeply.

“Okay, let me know when I can move,” he said.

You waited a few seconds, waiting to adjust to the intrusion. But Taehyung was patient, kissing your chest and up to your lips while he waited for your go ahead.

“Alright, you can move,” you said softly.

Taehyung nodded before giving a gentle thrust into your wet heat.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, looking down at you with a light sparkle in his dark eyes. You found yourself drawn into his orbs, looking back at you with such gentleness.

“T-Taehyung,” you whimpered out.

“Yes Princess, what do you need?” He asked.

“Touch me, touch me please,” you begged.

“Where?” He questioned, looking for direction. Not answering with words, you took his hand and placed it over your breast. Taehyung palmed your chest, making you moan out in appreciation.

“Like that,” you cried, head thrown back.

“So pretty like this,” Taehyung muttered. You peered up at him with your big eyes and Taehyung felt his heart stammer.

He pushed forward a little harder, making a gasp fall from your lips with his urgency.

“Feels so good, mmm, fuck,” he growled. Taehyung was about fit to burst, but he held off, knowing that you would come first. He needed to see it again. The way your lips parted in a beautiful O that made him want to kiss you endlessly.

“Taehyung, fuck, oh Gods,” you moaned.

“Say my name, fucking say it. I want to hear you scream my name Princess,” he groaned.

“Tae-hyung, fuck, harder, fuck me harder,” you squeaked.

“I will baby, I’m going to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow,” he moaned.

You gripped his shoulders tightly as he started rutting into you at an alarming rate. Taehyung seemed to slip away at this point, turning into a feral beast. Your heart was hammering against your rib cage, like a bird trying to get free. Your vision was going blurry as you tried to hold on.

“Look at me Princess, focus on me, let me see you cum. You’re so close aren’t you? Just wanna cum huh? I’ll give it to you, isn’t that right Princess? Fucked so silly for me, my bride, my wife. Going to make you my Queen,” Taehyung moaned out.

Taehyung sounded so sure, unlike any other time you’ve heard him speak. Generally the man was more reserved but, right now he was fucking you like a savage. You tried to keep your eyes open, but the sensations coursing through you were more than you could take.

“Taehyung, something-I’m-ah!” You cried, trying to keep your head on straight but your lower stomach burst into a fiery explosion that took your breath away.

“Fuck that’s it pretty girl, keep going. Cum all over me, want to see you make a mess,” he said.

Your thighs were starting to shake as he kept pushing forward into you. “Ah, Taehyung, w-what-oh!”

“So close baby, so close,” he whimpered, rolling his hips into yours seductively.

“Oh my fucking-Taehyung!”

“Y/N!” He yelped, pulling out quickly and warmth spread on your lower stomach.

“Shit,” you huffed, looking up at the ceiling.

Taehyung came into your field of view and looked at your face with concern.

“Are you alright?” He asked, timid nature creeping back in.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked, looking at him with confusion.

“Um, I’m also confused. What are you talking about?” He questioned.

“What did I just do?” You said, looking down at your mess with burning hot cheeks.

“You, uh, came?”

“What does that mean?” You asked.

“Have you never touched yourself?”

“Not like that, no,” you said, breathless even still.

“Well, it’s called an orgasm. But the slang terminology is to cum or you came,” Taehyung winced at the awkwardness filling this air.

“Can we do it again?”

“What.”

“That was the best feeling I’ve ever felt in my life, I want to do it again,” you said, pushing him down on the bed and crawling on top of him. Taehyung couldn’t help but feel his lower stomach twinge in interest.

“Well-uh-wait!”

“Why aren’t you hard still?”

“Oh dear God,” Taehyung lamented, rubbing his face.

“Am I not attractive enough? No, that can’t be it, you were hard because of me before,” you muttered.

“Can we not have this conversation now, I-I can’t go again so soon,” he said.

“How long do you need?” You asked, eagerly.

“Maybe, ten minutes? Wait-no, hold on,” Taehyung gasped when you brought your mouth down onto him. A sharp moan came from his lips. You smirked and continued moving your tongue around his length, massaging it and covering him with more of your slick.

“God fuck me, I-I can’t, it’s too much,” Taehyung cried, throwing his head back. You planned to keep going but a strong hand grasping the back of your head had other plans. Yanking your mouth off of him, Taehyung flung you onto your stomach and landed a heavy thwatch to your ass.

“Ouch!”

“Such a needy little brat I have,” Taehyung smirked. You noticed he was already getting hard again. Your mouth watered at the sight, but Taehyung didn’t let you move. You yearned to reach for him, to touch him more. To have him touch you more.

“Taehyung-”

“Enough, I told you to wait. And like a greedy little whore you couldn’t help yourself,” he growled.

His words didn’t sting, not at all actually. They brought a fire back into your belly that made your throat clench tight and your pussy scream for attention. Taehyung brought his hand down on your ass once more, making you jolt.

But instead of feeling humiliated, you moaned out loud. Letting him handle you as rough as he wanted. Taehyung gripped you and moved you to lean back on your knees and rest on your elbows.

“Ass up, Princess, I wanna see how drenched you are,” he said, giving your butt another swat. You did as he said, bringing yourself into a quite lewd position, ass high in the air. Taehyung groaned low in his throat as he massaged your tender flesh between his palms.

“Taehyung,” you mewled out, craving something inside of you.

“I think my little Princess needs to be louder. What do you want? Tell me Princess and you just might get what you desire,” Taehyung chuckled.

“Y-You, I want, you,” you pleaded.

“Yeah? What part of me do you want?” he asked, leaning down and brushing his lips against your ear in a tantalizing manner.

“Your cock, please Taehyung give it to me,” you begged.

Taehyung hummed in appreciation at your pleas.

“So desperate. I never knew you’d be such a whore for me,” he breathed against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and biting down a little hard.

“Oh!” you gasped, ass rutting into the cup of his hips.

Taehyung snarled when your pussy rubbed against his dick in a erotic fashion. He grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his cock, making you grind on him slowly. He seemed to like the build up, the way he could get your heart racing with just a few motions really made you wild.

“Going to shove myself so deep inside you that you won’t be able to breathe without my cock inside you. You’ll always need it. Whether it’s shoved down your throat, stuffed in your pussy or however I want to take you, Princess. Doesn’t that sound heavenly?”

You simply whined out a response, just wanting him inside you already.

“Ah ah ah, behave yourself Princess, I’d hate to leave you like this for the night,” Taehyung tutted.

“Please no! Please give it to me, Taehyung. Please, I’ll do whatever you want, just fuck me,” you cried.

You wanted to be ashamed of yourself. But you couldn’t help it. You’d never felt something such as this before. Your mind and body were overwhelmed with the sensations. Nothing could compare to the feeling you were experiencing right now. This pleasure that was burning you up from the inside out would surely be the death of you.

“My Princess, you want this?” he asked, stroking himself a bit before lining up with your entrance.

“Yes, yes I want it,” you gasped.

“Say please,” he teased.

“Please! Please please please Taehyung,” you sobbed.

“So eager, alright Princess. Take it,” Taehyung said, grabbing your hair and pulling you back onto his dick for the second time that night.

The full feeling made you want to suffocate, but at the same time you couldn’t help but cry out in blissful agony at the intrusion.

“Does it hurt?” Taehyung asked, looking at you for confirmation.

“No, it doesn’t hurt. Please, you can move,” you urged, bucking your hips back against him.

“Feels good?” he asked, reaching around you and rubbing your throbbing little clit a few times.

“So good,” you encouraged.

“Then make us feel even better Princess, move your hips-yes, oh fuck, like that,” he groaned as you swiveled your hips backwards and moaned into the sheets.

“Gods Taehyung,” you hiccuped, trying to keep yourself in check.

“Feels good doesn’t it Princess, my dick inside you feels good right? Want some more?” he asked, thrusting forward so hard he pushed your face into the beautiful satin fabric of his bed.

You turned your head and looked back, seeing his focused face and sweat pouring from his body.

Your heart clammed up in your chest. Had Taehyung always looked like this? So domineering and strong?

You brought your hands up and gripped a pillow tightly, wanting to scream at how good he was making you feel, but you couldn’t think of anything to say other than his name. So you blubbered his name and felt the tears streaking your face.

“Aw, Princess, are you crying? Is my cock that good that you’re crying over it? Pretty Princess, want more? Does your cunt want my cum?”

You almost choked at his statement. But you clenched around his length like a vice, Taehyung cried out in tandem with you. You both kept egging the other on, making the pleasure double, triple and so on.

But in the process you continued to fuck each other up even more.

“Tae-hnnn-hyung,” you moaned out as he plowed into you. Taehyung’s mind was on one track. To make the both of you cum.

“Fuck, Princess, I’m going to cum, your perfect pussy is going to make me fucking cum Jesus Christ, fuck!” he cried.

“Tae, me too, fuck me too!”

Your walls clamped down on him so tight he swore he wouldn’t be able to move an inch, but he did. Fucking you through your orgasm, Taehyung’s sweat poured down his face as he fell apart. Tears welled up in his vision as he came inside of you. You gasped, looking at the man above you. Tears fell from his cheeks and onto your neck as he shuddered.

“Taehyung-”

“No, just... Call me Tae,” he whispered. “I like it when you say it.”

“Tae,” you said breathlessly. “You’re crying.”

“I think I’m just overwhelmed,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“Do... Do you want me to comfort you?” you asked, blushing harder than you did when he was fucking your brains out.

“Comfort me?” he asked.

“My mother, when I was sick or injured badly, would comfort me. Do you want me to try it?”

You expected the same kind of coldness he’d exhibited before. Or you at least expected him to deny you. What you didn’t expect was for Taehyung to lay his head on your chest, wrapping his arms around you.

You also didn’t expect the soft voice that he used.

“Yes... please,” he said.

Without much more thought your hands went to his beautiful curly hair. It was getting longer. You found that you liked it this way, there was something to play with. You soothed your fingers over his scalp, rubbing and scratching in just a way that made his toes curl in pleasure.

Softly, you started singing the Ancient’s song. An old village tune that had found a place in your heart since you left home. Taehyung seemed soothed, his breathing had calmed down and you didn’t feel the wet warmth of his tears.

But you didn’t stop either.

You continued scratching and playing with his hair, humming the slow song under your breath as Taehyung fell into sleep. Slowly, somewhere along the lines, you fell asleep too. The nights light illuminating you two as you slept peacefully.

The next morning you awoke to find Taehyung looking out over the Kingdom. His shirt and pants were tied on loosely. You saw the bruise on his neck, no doubt from his father. You’d seen it last night and tried to be mindful of not touching it. But there wasn’t any fear in his frame today, he seemed... Awake in a sense.

“Good morning,” you croaked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Good morning, Princess,” he smiled, turning back to you.

His smile was a blinding thing. Boxy yet so charming at the same time. You wondered if he got it from his mother, because certainly his father didn’t have such charm. Perhaps it was a gift his mother left him. Something beautiful to remember her by.

“When did you wake?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Not too long ago,” he said, turning back towards the window.

“I see,” you answered, pulling your dressing gown on and heading towards the balcony.

The castle had several, but this one was by far the largest one you’d seen.

Taehyung came after you, walking towards you slowly as you leaned over the edge.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, turning his head in your direction.

“I did, thank you. And yourself?” you questioned back.

“I slept fine. I’m a little sore though, I must confess. You did a number on me,” he said, rubbing his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rough with you,” you winced. Taehyung noticed immediately however, looking at your stance.

“I believe that should be my line, are you alright? I should’ve been a little gentler,” he sighed, rubbing his face.

“No, it was perfect, I enjoyed myself. We should do it again,” you chuckled at his shocked expression.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have to do it again. The Kingdom will need an heir eventually,” he said, looking down at the grass below.

“Let’s not worry about that now.’

The air blew through your dressing gown, making your knees knock together because of the cold.

Taehyung came over and wrapped his arms around you, making the chill leave momentarily. The heat in your cheeks came again and you adjusted yourself in his grasp. What’s with this reaction? It was just Taehyung...

Just... Taehyung.

“Are you cold? Should we go inside? Winter will be here before you know it. Probably best you don’t catch something.”

“I’m fine, Taehyung-”

“I told you last night, call me Tae,” he said, smiling lightly.

He said the nickname as if it pained him. But you did as he asked regardless.

“Tae, I’m alright,” you announced.

He nodded, but kept his grasp firm on you, not letting you go for a moment. You two stood there, basking in the morning light. Until a loud knocking came from the door.

“Your highness! The king is requesting an audience with you.”

“Tell him I’ll be there shortly,” Taehyung hollered back.

“Apologies, highness. We’re here to escort your bride.”

“Did you consummate the marriage with my son?” The King asked, looking at you like he was about to be sick.

“Yes, if it worries you that much,” you said blatantly.

“You will not speak to me in such a tone,” the King growled.

Remembering your deal with Taehyung, you bowed your head.

“Apologies Majesty. What is the reason for our meeting,” you asked, keeping your head down.

“Did fucking my son really give you manners? Or is there another matter at play here?”

“Majesty-”

“It matters not, what matters is your mother is withholding troops from me. You will tell her to give me these troops,” he said, as if it were the easiest thing in the world transporting Night Crawlers here into the Kingdom.

“My mother no longer controls them. They await my orders now,” you said.

“So you are the one withholding them from me?”

“No, Majesty. News of my marriage with the Crowned Prince will travel to my mother, and once she knows of our union, the warriors will await my command. Please, give it some time,” you said slowly.

“Insolent bitch!”

A sharp sting came to your face.

“Majesty!” Xavier said, coming to your side. “We only sent the bird for their union yesterday. Give it some time. She could be carrying the heir.”

This seemed to sober up the King, looking at your stomach with slight anger and frustration. “Fine, but if those troops aren’t mobilized by the next month, you and I will be having a different conversation,” he said with a sense of finality and walked out the door.

“Go, before he changes his mind,” Xavier said, ice coating his words.

You swallowed hard before turning and walking out of the room, not before you heard Xavier mutter to himself.

“All a part of the plan.”

“What did my father want to speak with you about?” Taehyung asked when you were brought back up to his quarters. He was dressed formally now. His back was facing you.

“He wondered why the soldiers weren’t here one day after our union,” you sighed, wincing as you rested your hand on your swollen cheek. Taehyung turned then, about to ask you another question when his face paled.

“W-What happened to your face?” he asked, coming forward to move your hand.

“Your father happened to my face,” you said plainly.

“What do you mean? He hit you?” Taehyung questioned, moving your hand away from your face so he could get a better look.

“And called me an insolent bitch, but words hardly matter at this point,” you sighed when Taehyung’s cool palm made contact with your flaming cheek.

“Maids! Get me some cold water, quickly please. And bring us up some tea,” he said, angling your face to get a better look at the damage.

“Taehy-Tae, it’s alright, it doesn’t hurt that bad,” you said, bringing his hand away from your jaw.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“What are you sorry about? You weren’t there, you couldn’t have done anything-”

“If I could just man up and let him stop pushing me around and-”

“Hey, stop.”

You took his hands in yours and looked him dead in the eye.

“Man, woman, dog-it doesn’t matter. No one deserves being treated the way you’ve been treated by your family member. It’s not about manning up, it’s not about being tough. It’s about knowing your worth, and knowing that you don’t deserve that kind of treatment.It’s hard when you’ve been bullied into thinking poorly about yourself for so long but, the fact of the matter is, you don’t deserve that. No one does. So, you can do something about it, or you don’t. It’s simple.”

Taehyung sighed. “If I challenge my father, he could question my right to the throne.”

“But the people, Taehyung, think of your Kingdom. Think of them, and how much they look up to you. You’re in good favor. Even if it may not seem like it. The people here, they respect you, they like you.”

“They’re mad I married a Night Crawler woman,” Taehyung sighed.

“Is the Jung threat-”

“Don’t, don’t ask questions you’re not ready to know the answer to.”

Taehyung’s voice turned cold as a winter’s night. It was as if you could feel the temperature drop in the room at his very words.

“And you know whether I’m ready or not?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Y/N, this is serious. This is something meant for the strategists and the King, not us. Not now-”

“Highness? We’ve brought some water for you and your wife,” a maid’s voice carried through the door.

“Yes, please come in,” Taehyung said, moving away to gather up the items brought in by the servants. A platter of tea and biscuits were placed in front of you, the aroma pleasing but not overpowering.

Taehyung brought the ice water over, setting the cloth inside of it slowly before wringing it out and approaching you. You stayed put, letting him tend to you. Gently, he placed the cloth on your cheek, watching your face for signs of pain.

All you felt was relief.

The heat from your swollen face diminished, and a heat of a different kind rose in your belly.

Taehyung’s tender side made you think of how he’d taken care of you last night as well. You bit your lip and looked at Taehyung’s features. Striking jaw line, beautiful eyes and a cute little mole on his face.

You brought your hand up to his wrist, gently locking your fingers around his arm.

“Tae,” you started.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I-I want to have sex again.”

“Again? Already? Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I enjoyed myself last night and-well. I don’t bleed for another few days so why not?”

“I’m trying to be gentle with you, we’re not rabbits,” Taehyung chuckled. You pouted softly.

“Please, I want to, do you not want to? Because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable-”

“That’s most certainly not the case Y/N,” his voice was husky.

“Then why not?” you whined.

“Because, we have company,” Taehyung muttered, looking towards the door.

“That you do,” Jimin and Seokjin announced, walking inside your room.

“I think my wife has had plenty of meetings for one day,” Taehyung said, standing up to face the two men.

“Quite right, Prince Taehyung,” Jimin said. “That’s why we’re here for you.”

“Me?” Taehyung asked.

“Yes, you are to begin your training regimen once more,” Seokjin said firmly.

“Now?”

“Yes, you are to come with us to the courtyard. Princess Y/N is welcome to follow us,” Seokjin said, looking at you with a challenge in his eyes. “Perhaps she could even show us some of her techniques as a Night Crawler woman. We are meant to be fighting with them soon, perhaps we should see what one can do.”

“I don’t think she’s ready. She’s been out of practice, we wouldn’t want her hurting herself,” Jimin stated.

“Oh? Out of practice... Very well then, let me show you what I can do.”

Taglist:

@ladyartemesia, @lolalee24, @mawwnsterr, @defenestre-me, @musicalitae, @asifihaveaclue, @midnightsora, @mylifeisafxingmess, @jeonartemis, @coolmusicnut, @daydreambrliever, @chimchoom, @getmemyfries, @nikkiordonez12, @m00nchild-02, @creamberrypies, @delightpcy, @sanislifealways, @muqs-amer, @tutnotmytea, @pinkcherrybombs

#bangtan sorciere #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #52hertz #bts #bangtan #bts smut #bts fanfiction #smut #kim taehyung #V #Kim Taehyung Smut #V smut #BTS V #BTS Taehyung #taehyung bts

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years

Text

A Cozy Evening

Word count: 2800

Warnings: just a sticky sweet little fluff bomb for you all to enjoy 😉

You were all going to have to wait for this til tomorrow but @writingfics-passingtime is just good at striking a deal to get things early so… here it is! A nice bit of fluff to contrast the ruthlessness she’s posting 🙃

This is part 3 to An Embarrassing Secret, as requested by @sweetxnertickle - I hope you enjoy!

Thank you to those who submitted plot ideas! I went from zero ideas to too many ideas, so now it looks like I'm going to have to continue this multi-part fic for a little longer

Read first: Part 1 An Embarrassing Secret, Part 2 A Difficult Question

Movie nights were quite common in the Avengers tower. It was a great way to bond with the team, gathering everyone in the same room for something other than saving the world from certain doom. Sure, the team did other fun group activities together from time to time, but there was just something so cozy and homely about curling up on the couch with a blanket in your pajamas and watching a movie while trying to stay awake.

It was also a great excuse to sit close to Loki.

You were feeling a little extra cozy tonight, putting on your favorite pajama shorts and t-shirt and wrapping yourself in the fluffiest fleece blanket you owned. Thrown around your shoulders, the edge of the blanket just barely grazed the floor as you walked. The fabric was soft as it brushed against the bare skin of your calves.

Maybe you’d been feeling a bit touch-starved the last few days. It had been a few weeks since you’d worked up the courage to ask Loki to tickle you (or, rather, he’d forced your hand, so you’d have no choice but to ask. The audacity.) Since then, you hadn’t really had the opportunity to physically be close to anyone. Sure, there was the occasional high-five after a skilled move on a mission, or after a successful sparring match, but outside of those moments you pretty much kept to yourself. It wasn’t in your nature to ask for affection, even when you craved it. So, you did the next best thing, and surrounded yourself with soft, fluffy fabric.

You were disappointed to find that Loki hadn’t arrived yet in the common room when you headed in to find your seat. Usually, you tried to time your arrival so you would get there just after he sat down so you could conveniently choose the seat next to him. Now, you had to rely on him wanting to sit with you; or, at least, you had to hope there were no other seats left in the room by the time he arrived. The god had you feeling like you were back in high school crushing on a schoolmate – it was both a terrifying and giddy feeling.

Choosing a spot on the open two-seat sofa, you lay down on your side with your head resting on the arm and stretched your legs across the cushions. If someone asked you seriously to make space, you knew you would do it without hesitation, but you’d be dreadfully disappointed that you weren’t sitting with Loki. Each time someone new walked in the door, you held your breath, hoping they would find somewhere else to sit. You were so focused on making sure no one besides Loki sat with you that you didn’t actually notice when the lanky, dark-haired Asgardian himself strode into the room.

“Move.”

You looked up to see Loki hovering over you, waiting expectantly for you to move your legs to make space for him to sit. Glancing around, you noticed there were still a couple other seats open, which made your heart flutter. He actually wanted to sit with you, he chose to sit with you. But maybe you wanted to push his buttons a little bit.

“Not until you ask nicely,” you bargained, smirking. His eyes flashed, a slight upward curling to the corner of his lips.

“Move, or else.”

You feigned a gasp, stretching your legs out a bit more. “So rude! You’re not making me feel very generous, Loki.”

The look he gave you next made your stomach flip. The intense, mischievous eyes… the barely-there smirk… you knew you were in trouble the moment the words left your mouth.

“Move, or I’ll make you.”

Becoming a bit flustered already, you pulled your blanket up over your mouth and nose to hide your boiling cheeks and shook your head, holding your ground. He looked down at you with an expression of pity.

The logical thing would have been for him to move your legs. Clearly it would be no trouble to him, with his godly strength. But when you tried to cross Loki, he had to make a statement. So, instead, he reached down and lifted you effortlessly by the shoulders, forcing you to sit up enough so he could slide into the seat where your upper body was previously positioned. You scrambled to sit up all the way, feeling very shy at the idea of laying your head in his lap, but as you shifted he snaked an arm around your waist and tugged you toward him to lean with your back against his side and chest. He grasped the corner of the blanket closest to him, dragging it across to steal some for himself. It was large enough to cover you both, so long as you kept your knees slightly bent.

“Comfortable?” he asked teasingly, his lips startlingly close to your ear.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded stiffly. Your face was on fire now, more than a little bit flustered at the position you were in now. Loki’s arm was still wrapped around you, his hand resting on the side of your belly beneath the blanket. It would have been incredibly comfortable, if it weren’t for your anxiety brain telling you that you couldn’t relax too heavily into him, or hewould be uncomfortable.

The lights turned off, the screen turned on and a film began to play on the television. The room fell silent, save for the sounds of the music playing over the opening credits. A few strands of your hair shifted with every rise and fall of Loki’s chest behind you, his soft breath fanning over your forehead.

“Are you certain you’re comfortable?” he whispered suddenly, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re quite stiff.” If you could see his face from where you were leaning against him, you’d have noticed the glint of mischief flashing in his eyes. “Maybe you just need some assistance.”

You let out a soft gasp when you felt his fingers suddenly graze against your side, tracing random patterns against your t-shirt. Your hand instinctively darted to grasp his tickling fingers, but you quickly released them with a rush of heat to your face.

“Loki!” you hissed.

“Yes? What is it?” His fingers began to sweep along your side again, maddeningly gentle. You bit your bottom lip, shifting a little to lean more heavily into him.

“Ok, I-I’m relaxed now,” you insisted.

“Oh, but I’m not finished yet.” His fingers found the hem of your t-shirt, curling up underneath it to ghost along the skin of your belly just above your hips. Barely withholding a shriek, you reached up to pull the blanket up over your nose again, clamping a hand over your own mouth.

His soft, barely-there touch was agonizing. Making things worse, you had to fight to hold in your laughter and squirming to prevent the others from realizing what he was doing to you. At best, they’d realize he was tickling you beneath the blanket, and they’d tease you for it later. At worst, they’d think… well, their minds may stray elsewhere. Neither option was one you were willing to risk. But gods, if it didn’t make every swipe of his fingers tickle ten times more knowing you had to try not to react to his touch.

And, if you were being honest with yourself, this was exactly what you needed to cure your touch-starved mood.

It was quite the dilemma you were in. Allow him to continue with this sweet torture and risk your reactions giving something away to the others. Or, tell him to stop and feel the inevitable sense of loss when he obliged. The choice was obvious – you had to risk it.

When his fingers traveled up to the skin in the middle of your belly, right above your bellybutton, you began to reconsider your life choices.

Your abdomen twitched helplessly under his fingers, shoulders shaking in silent, breathy laughter. A sudden burst of air from his nose told you he was enjoying himself, laughing as he tore you to pieces with the mere flick of his fingertips against your bare skin. You weren’t even sure what movie they’d put on, and you didn’t care. The only thought in your brain right now was trying to contain your reactions despite your desperate desire to giggle out loud.

“P-please,” you whispered in desperation.

“Please what?”

“M-move s-somewhere e-else,” you pleaded.

“Alright.” You let out a slow breath as he slipped his hand out from beneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your reprieve was short-lived, though, as his fingers wrapped around your side and began lightly pinching and kneading rapidly. You couldn’t help but let out the tiniest of squeals, moving your other hand on top of the first to cover your mouth with both hands. “What’s wrong, love? You’re awfully jittery this evening.”

You couldn’t curse at him with your hands over your mouth, so instead you reached out with one hand to grasp his forearm and squeezed, trying to distract yourself from the agonizing sensation.

“Oh – I’m sorry, does this tickle?” he whispered in your ear. You turned your head slightly to throw a wide-eyed glare in his direction, startling yourself with the proximity of his face to yours. He responded with a widening smirk, his fingers beginning to ascend toward your ribcage. Shaking your head wildly, you pushed down against his forearm, trying to prevent his tickling fingers from crawling any higher. “Why are you fighting this? I thought you liked it.”

“Loki-eep!” you lowered your hand from your mouth for only a second to scold him, jolting when his other hand slipped beneath the blanket and latched on to your other side. Luckily your squeak was hidden beneath a sudden surge of volume in the music in the movie. Something important must be happening. No matter, you had bigger things to worry about right now.

He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Flustering you first by pulling you in close and then tickling you senseless to top it all off. Maybe he had noticed you fading into yourself a bit more these days, rubbing a hand along your own shoulder or resting your hand on your knee absentmindedly while sitting by yourself. It was likely that you, yourself didn’t even realize what you were doing. But Loki was perceptive, especially when it came to you. And if he was being honest with himself, he needed the closeness as much as you did tonight. He’d have been satisfied just to hold you in his arms, but he wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t relish in the feeling of you squirming under his fingers, cuddling in closer to him as a result. And the fact that you enjoyed it as much as he did made it all the more fun.

Feeling your silent, shaking laughter against his side, he let his fingers rest along your ribcage, adding a bit of weight to his touch to avoid tickling you. You took in long, slow, deep breaths, trying not to gasp in air and resultantly make a loud noise. Glancing around anxiously, you didn’t see anyone looking inquisitively in your direction. Good – you didn’t want to have to answer any awkward questions from your teammates later.

Gradually, your breathing shallowed to a more normal respiratory pattern. Still, Loki’s fingers rested heavily on your sides, unmoving. You shifted a bit to lean more firmly into his side, hoping he’d take the hint that you had recovered enough to start again. You were keenly aware of the location of each of his fingers along your ribcage, waiting with bated breath for them to suddenly spring into action and start scratching between your ribs again.

If there was one thing you should have learned about Loki by now, it was that he enjoyed teasing you. He knew what you wanted. But you were going to have to find a way to ask for it.

Releasing a short huff of frustration, you tilted your head backward to look up at the dark-haired Asgardian who had made himself your pillow for the evening. You could barely make out his features by the glow of the TV screen, the light dancing across his face as the movie continued to play. He glanced down at you when he realized you were looking at him. You softened your eyes, jutting your bottom lip out the slightest bit. He let out a breath of a laugh through his nose at pouting expression, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head in a look that asked what you wanted without words. You frowned, brow furrowed, trying to will him to just read your mind. He shrugged, letting his expression harden and feigning ignorance as he turned to look at the TV screen once again.

Suppressing the urge to whine, you reached your hand up to where his rested on your side, tapping it gently. You saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his hand remained still. You had one last trick up your sleeve, though. You shifted yourself to turn your upper body a bit, allowing that to be a distraction as you moved your hand over to the side you were resting against, latching your thumb and index finger onto his lower ribs and pinching a few times in rapid succession. You weren’t even sure if he was ticklish, but the sudden jolting gave you your answer.

His hand clamped down around your wrist, prying it away from his side as he turned his head to look at you with narrowed eyes, a look that screamed ‘you’re in trouble.’ Your stomach swooped in anxious and excited anticipation.

His grip around your waist tightened, pulling you closer against his side to hide his own vulnerable areas using your back as a shield. He latched both hands on your sides, his long, slender fingers reaching well across your belly, and began to claw into the soft skin through your shirt. It was all you could do to suppress a burst of laughter from exploding from your chest, clamping your hands over your mouth and nose but resultantly leaving your torso unprotected. Apparently you’d succeeded in getting under his skin, because he was no longer trying to go easy on you, thumbs digging into your sides just below your ribs as his four fingers scratched across your belly.

You were glad he at least had mercy enough to not target your weaker spots, because the effort it took to suppress your laughter was making you want to explode. Tears of mirth collected in the corners of your eyes as you let out small, short bursts of air through your nose, shoulders shaking. Loki was precise and unrelenting tonight, continuing to torment that same spot for what felt like an eternity. You finally couldn’t take it any longer, moving one hand away from covering your mouth to push at his hands. Instead of stopping, he merely allowed his hands to slide down a bit to dig into your hips.

In all your years on earth, you’d never been tickled in that specific spot, although you knew supposedly it was terribly sensitive for some. You never imagined you were one of those people.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

Your eyes grew wide as you arched your back against his devilish touch, pressing the blanket into your face to muffle your tiny screams. His thumbs dug into the spot just above your hipbones while his fingers clawed into the front of your hips, emitting ticklish shocks through your entire torso with every squeeze of his fingers. He chuckled softly at your reaction, easily covered up by a round of laughter from the others as some comedic stunt occurred on screen. You tried to tap out, frantically pushing at his hands with one of your own. He ignored your silent pleas for a few more moments, clearly proud of himself for having made you a giggling, squirming mess in his arms.

Loki, like you, was not interested in answering questions from the other Avengers, and so he finally relented when he realized your struggle was beginning to become more violent. You melted into his side, taking sharp, shallow breaths as you came down from your state of euphoria. It was precious to him, how you collapsed so heavily into his arms after he’d just tormented you. He wrapped his arm around you further and tugged you to sit up a bit more comfortably against his side, resting a firm hand on your belly. You reached over and covered his hand with your own, brushing your thumb along his knuckles. Leaning your head back into his chest, you let out a deep, contented sigh that made his heart skip.

There would be questions after the movie, but not because anyone witnessed the sweet torture Loki had put you through. It was hard not to notice how you’d buried yourself against his side for the entirety of the movie. And, more importantly, it was hard to ignore the foreign, soft smile on Loki’s face.

Part 4: You are Wonderful

#ticklish!reader #tickle fluff #loki tickle #tickle fic #marvel tickle #tickle prompts #soft loki #ler!loki #lee!reader

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missdreamshade · 3 years

Note

hello! if your asks are open, could i request a scenario where yan bangchan breaks the reader through isolation? no worries if asks are closed :) also wanted to say i’m a huge fan of everything you write!!thank u for sharing your creativity & talent with us :))

Aww, thank you!!! 🥺💕 I’m so sorry this took so long!

•

I Belong To You

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Genre: yandere au

Warnings: Yandere content, abusive, toxic, and possessive themes. Please read at your own risk

Every passing day, for over a week, has been the same.

The same four walls which hold you prisoner. The same voice of your inner thoughts trying hard to keep you sane. The same feeling of yearning for some type of human interaction. Touch. Talk. Or simply just someone’s presence.

A type of numbness consumed every fiber of your being. One that could only be described as stemming from a feeling of pure hopelessness.

The eerie creaking sound of a door opening filled the room, successfully breaking you out of your pitiful daze. Gathering up your already diminishing strength, you’re attention turned to the direction of the noise.

Near the doorway stood Chan, the monster who holds you captive. His face contorting with a look of sadistic pride upon seeing your miserable state.

You desperately wanted to hate him. You wanted to yell, kick, curse, anything just to cause him even the slightest bit of distress he’s caused you, but you couldn’t. Much to your dismay, you couldn’t swallow down the feeling of glee once your eyes fell upon his figure.

And that is exactly what he had wanted.

You watched, unwilling to move, as Chan stalked up to your huddled form. His knees bent as he crouched down to your level, his hand reaching out to caress the soft skin of your cheek.

Every muscle told you to push him away, or at least jerk away, like you always did, but the very opposite followed. You found yourself melting, almost leaning in, under his surprisingly gentle touch.

“Do you want to come out, baby?”

A fresh wave of unwanted tears pooled themselves in your eyes. You’ve waited eight agonizing days to hear those words slip past his lips.

“Yes, please, I really want to come out,” your voice croaked while your head vigorously tilted up and down.

“I thought so,” Chan cooed, his voice sickeningly pleased with your desperation, “But first, tell me who you belong to.”

You should have known that it wasn’t going to be so easy. That a few tears and pleas wouldn’t be enough to earn your freedom.

You should have known he’d want you to completely submit to him.

“Y-You,” your voice reluctantly quaked with uneasiness as you struggled to contain a sob.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, showing him the amount of sincerity he always wanted from you.

“I belong to you.”

A satisfied smirk tugged at Chan’s lips as his arms snaked around your waist and thighs, hoisting you off the dusty ground. His lips found their way to your ear, gently grazing across the flesh before whispering,

“That’s my good girl. I knew I could break you.”

• • •

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duskamethyst · 3 years

Text

cozen.

a/n: just realized that the colors of my banners are different on laptop and phone and that pissed me off.

word count: 3.9k

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon/dubcon, exhibitionism, public sex, thigh riding, squirting, sexual assault, stalking, power abuse

pairing: aizawa x f!reader

summary: where aizawa deliberately takes on the roll as your guardian inside the train, but of course he has other plans.

the worst place to be during the rush hour would be inside a train.

aizawa never bothered to commute because he often walked to work and back home but for you, he was willing to make an exception.

you caught his attention during one of his evening patrols, walking alone in the big city with a short skirt that accentuated your curves and long legs. aizawa discovered the fact that you used the train to get to work daily and with the fact that you were always alone, he knew that you were always put in a vulnerable situation. so, he thought; why not keep an eye on you? maybe his job as a hero could give him a little advantage too.

like a child, he finds himself eager to get on the train. of course, he doesn’t really know which coach you would be standing in but his commute turns out to be so much worth it whenever he does end up standing in the same one as you.

in the morning, you would be there before he gets in and he’s the first one to step off the train in the evening. he assumes that you live somewhere closer to the end of the train’s final stop but he doesn’t know exactly where. so far, he has learned which station you use to wait for the train for your ride home from work.

and today seems to be one of those days where he is lucky enough to see you in the same coach, squeezed between a throng of people. aizawa always noticed the fed up and uncomfortable look on your face as you held on to the bar but it was because of no other than a pervert deliberately rubbing his front on your backside.

he’s sort of mad that you just let it happen, quietly accepting the assault being thrown at you. he can see how your face is contorted into anger and vexation as you try to nudge the man with your elbow and what he assumes as the man muttering half-assed apologies before he starts to blatantly repeat the same shit again.

you look around pleadingly for someone to intervene and your hands are balled into tight fists, ready to swing any moment but you hesitate because you’re afraid of being the one who will end up getting into trouble and especially since you don’t have any concrete evidence that you’re being harassed either.

for a moment, his gaze locks briefly with yours before you turn away, probably to seek for someone else to come to your aid. he knows that almost no heroes ride the train, since they either patrol on the streets or keep watch from up above but he is currently the outlier, and what kind of hero would he be if he just continues to turn a blind eye on this? maybe it’s time for him to steal the opportunity to play hero and finally get an excuse to talk to you after a long time of observing you from the sidelines.

aizawa slowly pushes the people aside to make his way over to your side and takes you by surprise by putting his hand on your shoulder.

“baby, why didn’t you pick up the phone?” he sighs and says a little too loudly so the creep behind you can hear. you look at him perplexingly but he just gives you a silent look that tells you to play along.

“u-uh.. i’m sorry. my phone is on silent.” you try to reply with the same tone. “but i’m glad you found me! thought i’ve lost you.”

the way you inch closer to him doesn’t go unnoticed, especially how your boob is literally pressing on his side. aizawa quickly glances to the man who still seems to be unbothered by the fake acting (not that he can tell) so he spins you around to face him instead.

good lord. maybe he shouldn’t have done that.

now aizawa can clearly see that your tits are squished against his chest through the unbuttoned top of your little white blouse. your gaze strays somewhere else, probably in embarrassment or maybe you don’t mind at all– he can’t tell nor can he think straight right now but he’s here for one purpose and he’s going to honor it.

“how’s work today?” he inquires, turning your head to him with his fingers so it would seem like you both are engaging in a natural conversation between lovers. he is able to see your tired eyes up close but they seem to carry the same soft look he’s so smitten with.

“hard.” he tenses up a little at the possibility of you noticing the erection in his pants but thank god they’re baggy or else the tent would be obvious. “i missed you.”

aizawa’s heart is bursting in his chest but he places on his mask of unfazed expression perfectly. he still has a role to play after all.

he leans down to whisper in your ear yet his eyes bore intimidatingly into the man’s, “i’m sorry to hear that, sweetheart. but i promised to take good care of you tonight, remember?”

perhaps that was a bit of an overstate, but hey, it works. now that the man has caught on, he immediately walks off the train as soon as it stops– not even bothering whether it's where he’s supposed to go or not as he tries to run away from the possibility of getting into trouble with another guy.

“you okay?” he steps back and takes a good look at you only to realize how you’re avoiding his gaze to hide your evidently flushed face. how cute. “you don’t look so good.”

“i-i’m fine.” you mutter. “thank you for saving me.”

“no problem. it’s a part of my job. i just happened to be here.” he points out in a blatant lie.

you look at him in surprise as if finally connecting the dots, “wait, are you a hero?”

“uh, i guess– yes, i am.”

it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a hero being vague about his profession– or maybe you just made him feel uncomfortable to admit that he’s one when you, a quirkless citizen should be acknowledging the heroes that are risking their lives to protect the country so they should at least deserve some recognition, him included.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t recognize you and i don’t really keep up with the heroes.” you laugh nervously, afraid of offending the male. though you can’t really tell what he thinks nor can you tell if he even cares from the look on his face but he only observes you silently before his lips turn to a lopsided smile.

he doesn’t take it to heart, of course, but he finds it endearing that you’re trying to make him feel better. aizawa is not one that likes to be in the limelight anyway, so he doesn’t blame you.

the number of people in the train gradually dissipates as the train stops station by station, leaving him and you together with some other few who have taken their seats to doze off. aizawa’s platform has long passed by but he decides to stay with you with intent to know where you actually live.

aizawa doesn’t speak much the whole ride, only answering your questions and listening to you as you talk about your life. he learns that you’re a fresh graduate who just started working in an office and saving up to buy a car so you don’t have to trouble yourself with train rides anymore. he doesn’t know why you entrust him with the fact that you live alone in your apartment, but he’s relieved that you do. maybe it’s easy to trust a hero. man or not.

but his filthy gaze lingers around your body once in a while– blood rushes to his cock when he sees the plush thighs that are exposed from your short skirt as you sit, the two buttons on your blouse that looks like they’re about to pop off from your breasts and the way your puffy lips jut out slightly when you stare out the window to watch the sun slowly disappears below the horizon to make way for the dark sky. the ride would’ve been peaceful if not for the uncomfortable throb inside his pants right now.

and soon enough, you stand up from your seat and grab your bag in preparation to step off from the agonizing ride.

“this is my stop. thank you again, eraser head. it’s nice meeting you!” you beam sweetly before you walk off the train and wave him goodbye as the doors slowly closes between the two of you.

aizawa can’t wait to see you again tomorrow– but now he needs a change of pace. since he doesn’t want to take risk of you finding out that he intentionally missed his platform, he chooses to only ride the train in the evening now.

with his height, aizawa is able to see you looking around as soon as you step into the train with exhaustion written all over your face. however, it’s instantly washed away with an exuberant look when you notice him staring at you from the other side. his heart swells with joy as he watches you push yourself through the crowd with your bag covering your chest protectively.

“found you, eraser!” you chirp as you stand in front of the male.

“oh? so you were looking for me?” he replies coyly, sinking lower into his scarf to keep his burning cheeks out of sight.

you nod eagerly and sigh, “i looked for you this morning too, but i guess you were on a different coach or something.”

“why? you wanted to use me so i’d protect you from perverts?”

“oops. busted.” you laugh.

if that’s the one thing that binds you and him, he doesn’t really mind. aizawa is pleased to know that you’re willing to be around him as much as he does. it then comes to a point where you both promise to be in the same coach in the evening.

it has been over a week since aizawa restrained his lecherous intentions. all of those days he has seen you don that short skirt that seems to hug your ass so well. every weekday evening he gets to glance down over your cleavage when you press yourself closely against him and when you’re not facing him? he can feel that ass just lightly brushing, teasing him when the train shakes and he knows he won’t be able to take it any longer.

what is he waiting for anyway? when this is all what he coveted in the first place? fuck playing the reliable hero.

aizawa doesn’t want to regard himself and the creeps inside the train as equals. he’s different. he’s a hero and because of that, he got you always wanting to stay close to him without him compelling. you’re so sweet to him, so trusting and you never give him the dirty look whenever he places his hand too low on your back.

more people are joining in from different stations so as usual, aizawa quickly pulls you into a corner nearby one of the doors which he knows won’t be opening for people to get in and get out. he only keeps guard by standing behind you as you take in the view of the same buildings and skyline.

“you have no idea how much i’m dying to own a car.” you sigh as you stare outside the glass window unheedingly and completely oblivious to your surroundings.

“yes. you’ve said that a million times.” he carefully inches closer (as much as he can anyway) and bravely takes a whiff of your shampoo that never fails to fill and rouse his senses.

“i’m sorry,” you titter. “you must’ve gotten bored of hearing it.”

“no, i like it.” he whispers audibly in your ear, just enough for both of you to hear.

“i’m gla–” you’re suddenly startled when you feel something hard prodding against your ass. you start to feel uneasy and try to shift away but a pair of hands brazenly grab your breasts, almost making you yelp in surprise.

“shh,” his hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “don’t wanna make a scene.”

your heart instantly drops once you realize the person you trust most, a hero at that, is doing the very same thing he protected you from. you can see the vague reflection ahead– the way his hands are massaging your tits as he litters chaste kisses on the crook of your neck.

you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but he only grabs harder and pushes you closer to the front until your forehead presses against the cold glass.

“aizawa– stop.”

aizawa can hear panic lacing in your voice as you whimper but he simply brushes off your plea, too busy soothing his carnal needs by grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“no. you feel so good.” he nibbles your neck, sucking and biting the supple flesh to leave a bruising mark.

“p-people are gonna see.”

“that’d be really hot.” he hoists up your short skirt to prop his knees between your thighs before one of his hands guides your hip and compels you to grind your pussy against his own thigh.

your eyes lingers around the crowd in the train, in between looking for help and hoping that no one sees what he’s doing to you but everyone’s either immersed in their phones or napping and even when someone does notice you, they just turn away uncomfortably.

“looks like i’m the only hero in this train, kitten.” he says ironically as the hand from your hips snakes in front to rub circles on your clit. “feels good, does it?” he coos as you try to muffle your whines from escaping.

you’re clawing on his wrist in an attempt to make him stop, but the harder you try to, the harder he presses your mound and clit.

aizawa slips two fingers inside your panties, barely biting back a groan once he uncovers you wet beneath his fingers.

“what a surprise.” he chuckles, smearing his fingers with your slick before bringing it up to your mouth. “open up, kitten.”

you purse your lips in retaliation but he easily rubs his thumb on your hardened nipple, causing you to gasp and he quickly shoves his fingers inside your mouth. your tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking and tasting your own flavor as he observes you through the reflection.

“you like how it tastes?” he pulls out his fingers from your mouth with a lewd pop sound before tugging your panties to the side and sliding a digit swiftly inside your cunt. a surprised yelp manages to roll off your tongue from the intrusion but you quickly look down to hide your humiliation and away from the peculiar gazes of others inside the coach.

aizawa hushes you as he thrusts his fingers slowly, savoring the tightness of your walls while also attempting to keep down the squelching noises from your dripping cunt.

“it’s okay. most of them are going to step off soon, then you can be as loud as you want.” he murmurs, holding you close to his body while his other hand continuously rubs your nipple with his thumb to stimulate you even further until your world is reduced to his satisfying ministrations.

as time passes by, more and more people have left the train while a few sleepers still remain. aizawa already has two fingers pumping inside your sopping cunt and your slick is already trickling down your thighs as you try hard to hold in your whines.

“please– i can’t–” your legs have grown weaker and you can only find support by leaning back against his broad chest. your toes are curling inside your heels and your breath has come out shorter and deeper as he keeps on edging you until he thinks it’s safe to fuck you without the presence of other people seeing his unheroic actions.

“you wanna cum, pretty girl?” he finally picks up the pace, causing your body to squirm as you moan breathlessly.

“y-yes– please–”

“you’re really sucking me in.” he groans, dragging and curling his fingers against the spongy walls that makes your thighs tremble as you edge closer to an orgasm. “cum for me.”

your hands are clenching hard on his forearm and you feel the muscles in your stomach tightening with so much intensity. with his finger pressing down on your throbbing bud, you eventually come undone and you bite on his arm to stifle your screams.

“that’s it, princess. just what you need after a long day at work, huh?” he kisses your temple soothingly as you regain composure and struggle to fix your skirt, but he stops you from doing so.

“aizawa..?”

“i had a hard day at work too, you know.” he tugs your panties down to your ankles and picks it up. “i deserve something from you too, right? and i’m not talking about this.” you see him showing your panties through the glass before he shoves it inside his pocket.

aizawa wraps his scarf around your body and drags you to the middle of the coach. the fabric works as a bind around your wrists and ties onto the bar handle on top of your head to keep you restrained and exposed in front of a man that is sleeping in his seat.

“let’s hope he doesn’t wake up soon, hm?” he chuckles and takes his place behind you.

“you’re out of your–!”

you can barely contain your shriek when aizawa suddenly rips off the middle of your blouse that sends the buttons flying across from you and he quickly slips his hands underneath your bra to fondle your breasts.

“careful not to wake him up, princess.” he tweaks your pebbled nipples between his fingers to provoke the slightest sound from you but you press your lips firmly to conceal your mewls. “or else he’s gonna see me fucking your tight cunt.”

aizawa spits on his hand and smears his saliva with your slick, making you shudder from sensitivity before his fingers prod into your hole to give you a few pumps in preparation for his cock.

“i’ve been waiting for this for far too long.” he unzips his pants hastily to free his cock from its confinements and you gulp nervously when you see it in the reflection ahead– already throbbing and fully erected. aizawa lifts one of your legs up and rubs his shaft against your wet, puffy folds before lining his cock with your entrance.

you look down at the man anxiously, praying silently for him to not wake up (or maybe just never at all) to see you with your legs spread in front of his face for god knows how long it’ll be. you bite your lower lip hard when you feel aizawa’s cock sinking inside your cunt, stretching it as he pushes through your walls.

“shit. so fucking tight.” he growls in your ear as he sheathes his cock into you, pushing through your convulsing walls and until he has filled you to the brim. he starts to pound into you slowly and you bite back a moan when you feel the delicious drags of his veiny cock inside you.

his tongue traces the shell of your ear, licking all around the erogenous zone that has you shuddering and clenching down on him even more.

“mmph– you’re milking my cock so well, kitten.” he grunts, flicking your nipple with his free hand before toying with your clit.

“ah– he-he’s gonna wake up.” you pant, tugging your wrists for release as if the way it binds so securely doesn’t tell you enough that it would be impossible.

“then he’s gonna get one hell of a show.” he says nonchalantly before picking up his pace.

the squelching noises begin to fill the quiet air as aizawa continues to fuck you relentlessly. your slick is dripping down to his balls and your thighs, pooling underneath you and you can feel that you’re close to reaching another orgasm.

as your state has become more delirious, the man in front of you suddenly grunts in his sleep and a cold rush of fear instantly creeps down your spine. yet, aizawa doesn’t seem bothered when he remains to be balls deep inside you.

“i think you’re getting off on this, princess.” he says between breaths, rutting into you harder when he feels how hard you’re clamping around his cock.

“b-but– i’m gonna cum–” you whine, body squirming as you ground yourself to not cum.

your pussy is spread wide open in front of the man when aizawa easily lifts up your other leg. your heels have fallen under you and now you’re just practically hanging in mid air with his scarf and hands supporting your body. he angles deeper inside your cunny and your head throws back onto his shoulder when you feel the tip brushing against your cervix.

“then, cum.” it’s baffling how he manages to make it sound simple, not having a care in the world as if his reputation isn’t in the line right now. “look at me.”

you shyly turn your head to meet his heavy lidded eyes before he crashes his lips onto yours. you drown into his fervor kiss while the pressure continues to build in your lower stomach turns more intense and unbearable. at this point, you think it’s best to just swallow your humiliation.

“let it go.” he whispers against your lips and locks his gaze with your wavering eyes.

“f-fuck– cumming–!” you instantly draw in for a deep kiss to make him swallow your moans as you finally let yourself come undone. it feels oddly relieving in a sense that has your mind turned to mush, together with the feeling of an insurmountable high. the moment your eyes flutter open again, you realize that there are questionable droplets of water staining the glass window in front of you.

“you’re a little exhibitionist, aren’t you?” he mocks, yet proud and even more aroused that he managed to make you squirt in a public transport. “he might need to clean up.”

your eyes trail down to the man in front of you to see some amount of your own arousal trickling down on his poor face. you're so dazed with pleasure that you don’t even bother to care anymore and you just let aizawa fucks you through your high before his cock begins to twitch inside your pussy.

“be a good girl and take all my cum.” his pace soon falters and he holds you still before releasing a thick load inside your cunt. after he has emptied out, aizawa leans in the crook of your neck to catch his breath before removing his cock and putting you down gently.

“that was fucking good.” he sighs gratifyingly as he pulls his pants back up. aizawa unties your restraints and your legs wobble once they touch the ground, but he quickly catches you in his arms to keep you from falling to the floor. as if on cue, the train finally comes to a halt.

“oh, we’re here.” he picks up your shoes and bag before pulling you closer to him to stand in front of the automatic door. “do you need me to carry you or something?”

you look at him confusingly, then to the small map above your head; you’re at least two stops away from your station and three from his. “but this isn’t our stop.”

“well, this one has always been mine.”

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa smut #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa fanfic #bnha fanfic #bnha aizawa #r; writes #tw; noncon #tw; dubcon #tw; stalking #tw; assault

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 3 years

Text

#1 Fan [Part 1/2]

Summary: Spencer knows he’s seen his new neighbor somewhere before.

A/N: This was a blurb request from my sideblog that got completely out of hand so here she is as a full fic! (We’re gonna pretend like I know how OnlyFans works)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff & Smut

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, masturbation (male & female), voyeurism(?), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.9k

Request: “Blurb about basically the same fic as the other one except she just moved in and he recognizes her as the person he subs to on OF. She’s describing her hot neighbor- and yeah” from @thatsonezesty13

Masterlist

Read Part 2 Here

The first time Spencer sees her in the lobby grabbing her mail he thinks he’s in a dream. Or maybe he’s seeing things. For a second he’s terrified that he’s having a hyper-realistic, yet somehow mundane, wet dream.

He’s been subscribed to her for a while. To be honest once he’d found her account he didn’t have much of a need to subscribe to anyone else. She was almost tailor made for him, it was sort of scary.

So when he saw her that day, and she smiled at him, giving him a small wave as she passed him in the hall, his heart all but stopped.

That night he checked her page. He compared the pictures of the sweet girl in the hall with the ones in front of him. The photos where she was wearing next to nothing, or sometimes nothing at all. The ones where she had her fingers inside of her panties, or her mouth.

He ended up spiraling that evening, partially forgetting why he was even looking in the first place. Until he was watching videos of her, fucking into herself with a toy until she was squirting onto her bedsheets.

The following morning when he woke up he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her. How could it be? And if it was, would he have to stop looking? Something felt a bit perverted about that.

So he pushed the thoughts from his head. And that lasted all of 10 seconds because there was a knock on his front door. When he opened it up it was her standing there, the girl from the mailboxes, and the girl from the videos. He knew they were one and the same, who was he kidding?

“Hi!” She sticks out her hand to introduce herself, “I think I saw you the other day, I’ve just moved into the building, Y/N.”

He knows her name already, well he knows her first name, and part of him’s a little surprised it’s not fake.

He takes a moment to consider her hand, he wouldn’t usually shake a strangers hand like this but for some reason he didn’t feel like she was a stranger. The real reason her didn’t want to shake her hand was because of all the things he’d pictured her doing with them. Touching herself, touching him.

But he’s hesitated for too long, so he takes her hand, shaking it gently, “Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid. Nice to— uh, meet you” he has to force his breaths out or they might not come. Looking at her up close, in person, she was too beautiful. And he already thought that about her pictures.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, I always like to know the folks in my building. And especially you if we’re gonna be neighbors”

“Neighbors?” He tries to stop his eyes from popping out of his head but she doesn’t seem to notice. She just nods happily.

“Yup, I’m right on the other side of that wall” she points to her right and giggles, “knock if you need me” she jokes but Spencer’s breathing stops entirely and he can only nod.

“So um, if you wanted to hang out or anything you know where to find me” she smiles at him and starts to head back to her apartment.

He’s not sure what’s come over him, but it feels like adrenaline is coursing through his entire body as he speaks.

“I’m free right now if you’re not busy?” He asks before she can get too far away but she shakes her head.

“I’ve actually gotta head out for a bit but if you’re free tomorrow do you wanna come over and see my place. I’m sure it’s probably the exact same as yours but—”

“Yes!— I mean, um, yeah, that sounds nice, cool” she laughs at him a little, probably at his eagerness, or maybe at the way he’s blushing, he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“See you then Spencer, Dr. Spencer Reid” she giggles and he’s smitten already.

— —

He’s pretty much counting down the seconds until the following evening. His mind is completely restless, he’s got no idea what to wear or how to act, or what to say.

She was just so pretty, he could barely have a 2 minute conversation with her in the hallway. How was he supposed to hang out with her for an evening.

She slips a note under his door the following afternoon:

I’m on my way out but I should be back around 8! See you then x

He wishes he didn’t stare at the little ‘x’ on the note for quite so long but he couldn’t help it. Even her handwriting was cute.

He doesn’t want to think about why he knows her already but he can’t help it. He decides that he’s not going to look at her page again, taking a cold shower as part of his preparation for that evening before agonizing over what to wear.

He settles on a purple sweater and he already feels like he’s made the wrong call somehow as he’s knocking on her door at 8pm on the dot.

“Well aren’t you punctual” she smiles at him as she pulls open the door. His stomach drops when he realizes that he recognizes the little dress she’s wearing. He’s seen her take it off before. He tries to steady his breathing but it doesn’t work super well so he just waves hello as she ushers him inside.

“I guess you got my note then” she smiles and he smiles back.

“Yeah, your— um— handwriting is really nice” he wants to slap himself in the face. What kind of complement was that?

“Thank you?” she giggles at him, “no ones ever said that before, you’re a bit of an oddball” she points him to the sofa so he sits.

When she comes to sit next to him she’s holding a bottle of wine and two glasses and he has to stop his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Would you like a glass?” She asks and he nods his head, it probably wasn’t a great idea, but neither was any of this. She hands him a glass of wine and takes the seat next to him on the couch, turning to face him as she tucks her legs up under herself.

“So Spencer Reid, what kind of doctor are you?” she asks as she takes a sip from her own glass.

“I’m—um— I work at the FBI actually, I— I’m a profiler” he’s already conscious that he doesn’t want to bore her by harping on about work, or by rambling like he does right before people usually roll their eyes. But she doesn’t, she leans in.

“That’s so cool, well it sounds like it is anyway? Does that mean you read people or something?” her eyes look like they're after lighting up and she's smiling at him encouraging.

“Y-Yeah? It’s sort of like reading people I guess. We catch killers by getting inside their heads in a way, trying to figure out why they’re doing what they’re doing, and hopefully what they’re gonna do next so that we can stop it. It’s a little more complicated than that, but that’s the gist” he’s smiling now too, the way she’s looking at him makes him feel like he’s actually doing a sort of good job not embarrassing himself.

“So you said my handwriting was nice” she says, gears clearly turning, “Can you read anything about me from that?” she looks like she's challenging him, if he didn’t know better he might call it flirting.

“Well actually graphology—sorry— handwriting analysis has been deemed a pseudoscience by most, the validity of handwriting as evidence in court has always been dubious and many of the techniques used today are the same as those employed in Renaissance England.” he rambles but she’s still engaged when he stops speaking.

“So you’re smart smart, huh?” she smiles at him, and he nods.

“I don’t believe intelligence can be neatly quantified but I do have an IQ of 187” he feels paradoxically stupid saying that, it feels like bragging or something and he already wants to take it back.

“Wow, a doctor with an IQ of 187” she takes a second to mull it over, “What are you doing hanging out with the likes of me?” she jokes, but his eyebrows knit together, he had no idea what she did, other than that thing he knew she did.

“I wouldn't sell yourself short like that, what do you do?” he asks her, at the very least it’ll stop him from spiraling.

“I work in a vintage bookstore, the one two blocks over?” She motions behind her as she tells him, and he knows it well, in fact he spends so much time there that he’s shocked he’d never seen her before.

“You work there? I’m there all the time, how have I never noticed you before?” she chuckles at him.

“I’ve only just started, I just moved in, remember?” and he wants to slap himself again, something about being around such a pretty face slashed that impressive IQ in half.

They spend another while and the rest of the bottle of wine getting to know each other before Spencer has to call it a night. Part of him wished that she was boring, or rude, or hated him, then maybe he’d be able to quell his infatuation. But this just made it worse, now that he knew her, now that he had spoken to her and she was so sweet, so smart, so funny, and still so damn pretty. He was absolutely fucked.

— —

He swears to himself that the wont look at her page again. Now that he knew her and he liked her more than he even did before, it felt like a real invasion. Part of him still felt bad about it in general, like he should've told her right away, been up front. But the moment for that had already passed so this was his next best plan.

Until he returns home the following Friday. He’s exhausted when he crawls into bed but he’s still somehow restless, the gears still turning in is brain. So he does what he always does when he wants to forget about everything else in the world.

His muscle memory opens it up, and he’s on her page before he even realizes he's done it. And she’s posted a few new videos this week. He wishes he had better willpower, or any willpower at all, but he can’t seem to stop himself from clicking on one.

It begins with her kneeling on her bed, wearing lingerie he’d seen before, it was baby pink and it was one of his favorites. She starts by dipping her fingers into her panties, teasing herself as little moans toppled from her lips. Then she started talking.

“I’m gonna tell you guys about a little dream I had last night, well, I’ve been having it all week really” she continues to tease herself a little, her other hand coming up to grab her breast over her soft pink bra as she speaks. Her voice is smooth and perfect, if he only had the audio he’d still be turned on right now.

“It goes like this. I’m lying in this bed right here, doing something a little like this, when there’s a knock at my front door. When I get up to answer it he’s there, with his shaggy brown hair, and his huge doe eyes, and he’s got these lips that are just so fuckin’ pink. I want them all over me. He comes inside and he grabs me with those huge hands of his and he pulls me right into him before he kisses me.” she moans a little as her fingers brush right up against her clit, but Spencer’s vision has almost gone blurry.

He’s not sure he’s even breathing when she starts talking again. “Then I lead him to my bedroom, and I get him out of those clothes. He dresses like an english teacher and I wish I didn’t find it so fuckin’ hot. Sometimes in the fantasy I take his cock in my mouth, I suck him off until he’s whimpering. Other times I can’t wait, I just need him to fuck me right away.” she takes off her panties then, leaving them to one side, while she grabs a toy from her bedside table.

“I like to fuck myself with this, but all week I’ve just been imagining that it’s him. He’s just so pretty, I know his cock has to be too. I want to know what it feels like when he’s buried inside me, so fuckin’ deep” she continues to fuck herself with the toy, and he’s tuned back in now, he’s achingly hard without even noticing, his hand wrapping around his cock as he pictures the other side of that fantasy.

It doesn’t take long before he's releasing, spilling all over his hand in tandem with the video. She takes a moment to relax, steadying out her breathing before she speaks to the camera again.

“I think I have a crush guys” she gasps out, “I moved, and I think I’ve got a crush on my fuckin’ neighbor already”

Not that he needed any more confirmation, but those words hit him like a fucking train.

It’s already midnight, it’s not so late that he couldn’t go over there, but it sort of is late enough that he shouldn’t. He really can’t bring himself to care though, getting out of bed and cleaning himself up he decides to ride this uncharacteristically confident wave as far as it’ll take him.

He’s knocking on her door before he’s had a chance to second guess himself. When she answers she’s in a little robe, it’s ivory and satin, and he recognizes it too. He doesn’t say anything, neither does she. They just look at each other for a little too long, eyes taking each other in. He wants to lean in and kiss her, just like in her fantasy, but he’s not that guy.

“Hi” he breathes out instead, “I know it’s late, sorry, I shouldn’t be here—but I— I just wanna say” he pauses to take in a labored breath, “I like you a lot and I think you’re really pretty and funny and smart and would you wanna go out sometime? With me? Maybe?” he doesn't realize he’s closed this eyes until he’s got to pry them back open.

“Well that’s not how the fantasy was supposed to go” she giggles, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him and the blush that’s steadily spreading up his face and neck.

“What do you— I don’t— what?” he’s stammering, doing a god awful job of playing dumb.

“In my video, you were just supposed to kiss me. This isn’t as sexy but it is a hell of a lot better”

“I don’t— I’m not—” he can’t get a sentence out, he’s got no idea what’s happening right now.

“It’s alright Dr. 187, I know it’s you” some part of him genuinely wants to throw up. Why did he think that would be an innocuous username. He was the stupidest genius alive.

“I’m sorry, I should've told you. I had no idea how, I just never thought— how could I have known you’d move in next door to me? And that you’d be even prettier in person but you’d be so cool too” he’s got to cut himself off before he really starts apologetically rambling.

“Spencer stop. It’s fine. I make that content for people to enjoy, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about. I made that video because I wanted you to see it, that was intentional.” she reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder, and it’s more comforting than it has any right to be.

“Was that—your fantasy—the uh the video—were you telling the truth?” he can feel his heart absolutely racing in his chest as he waits for the answer. And she breaks out in a huge smile, nodding up at him.

“Every word.” he doesn’t let himself overthink it this time, he just leans right in, pressing his lips to hers. It’s soft and gentle, a sweet kiss rather than a heated one, it’s not just infatuation, there are feelings behind it now. He can feel her lips smiling against his own and his heart’s fit to burst now.

When they break apart she looks giddy with excitement, her hands come down to the little bow that holds her robe closed, toying with the ends of the tie. “I’m actually about to make a video now if you’d like to see behind the scenes?” she asks and his breath gets stuck in his throat.

“Fuck” he rasps, “You’ve got no idea how much I want to do that” he pauses, scolding himself in his head already, “But I think I wanna take you to dinner first, if you still want that?”

She’s grinning at him again, “I still really want that, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

-- --

Comments, reblogs, and tags are always appreciated, I love you all x

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deluluass · 3 years

Note

could yoy do please some yandere kuroo and kageyama headcanons? 💕

nsfw is welcomed 😊

My first headcanons 🤞🏽

Yandere! Kuroo Tetsuro

Content warnings: markers of a toxic/emotionally abusive relationship; dumbification; daddy kink; sex toy(s); mild public play/exhibitionism

😇SFW😇

This boy has a fascination for messy people.

And by "messy", I mean that Kuroo has a soft spot for those who put up some sort of front. A performative mask to hide their crumbling psyche.

Oh.

Those are his favorites. (Especially when they're not even aware that they’re hiding something.)

Maybe it's because they're so easy to manipulate? (Or perhaps it's a mild case of schadenfreude?)

It's the instigator in him.

He knows which buttons to push and at what time to exactly do it.

Kuroo lives for being that guy who causes a full blown fight by simply dropping a backhanded comment or two.

For being the final straw that eventually breaks the proverbial camel's back.

And then slipping back into the shadows to watch the Drama unfold.

So it's not unlikely for him to form an obsession for someone who's so emotionally vulnerable.

Someone who has the weight of the world on their shoulders; who has everything locked up inside to the point of bursting.

Because then it won't take much to have them falling apart and unraveling before him.

But he's also a caretaker, you know.

He's opportunistic and covertly callous and mischievous, yes.

But you've seen how much he tends to those close to him.

So when you do fall apart, you will do it in his arms.

He will take care of you.

He'll say everything you've always wanted to hear.

You're beautiful and wanted and loved and you don't have to be brave anymore.

Kuroo's here and he understands you.

From the barest changes in your inflection to your most subtle facial expression.

Other people won't catch it.

To Kuroo, though? Tell-tale signs that you're hiding your feelings again.

He understands you in a way that no else had; that no else cared to try.

And eventually that’ll be the very thing that you’ll hold onto.

Never mind that his every word has become an indisputable fact (when it shouldn’t be).

Never mind that the line between Kuroo just being a mindful boyfriend AND Kuroo disregarding your boundaries has become too blurry that it’s impossible to tell which is which.

Never mind that your entire world has narrowed down to just him and you.

Because all your friends have, one by one, made their way for the exit.

They tell you that they're so tired.

They've warned you- begged you, actually- to end this insidiously suffocating relationship.

"I know he's only been nice to you and to us, but there's just...something wrong about that guy," they say.

But until they pinpoint, exactly, what that "something wrong" is; and until you see it for yourself, you're sticking by his side.

Damn whatever people say.

So.

Kuroo's not the yandere who'd chain you up in his basement or something.

Not that he's above it, but because he doesn't really need to.

Not when he has you bound right where it really matters.

😈NSFW😈

Kuroo has perfected being a dom down to a Science.

He knows exactly when to be mean and hurtful and sweet and kind and giving to you.

Kuroo's very generous, methinks! But only if he believes you deserved it.

So you better prove that you earned it!!

He'll having you cumming and gushing into his hand if you pleaded just enough!!

Looked into his eyes all pouty and teary and pliant to all his wishes.

Very into treating you and talking to you like you're not capable of comprehending words.

Oh, darling. I know I'm hurting you. I know I am. But you like it, don't you? That's right. Fuck yeah, you do, you fucking slut.

That's because you're just a dumb little baby, aren't you? You'd be happy as long as daddy makes you cum?

And you'd nod and say yes so obediently as he pounds your little hole even though you can't hear him over the sound of your own moans.

ALSO!!!

HE IS A TEASE!!!!

A FUCKINGN!!!!!!!!! TEASE!!!!

Every seggsy time is edging time!!

Has a thing for slapping your ass until your cheeks are bruised and tender under his palms.

And for sticking a vibrator inside you while you're out in public.

Just to teach you a lesson whenever he feels like you're not learning enough.

"Do you want me to come back until you're ready?" the waiter droned, obviously suppressing the urge to roll his eyes when all you did was grip the napkin in front of you.

You couldn't even look at poor kid; couldn't even make out a sound. You're too busy stifling the tingling within your walls, prompting you to cross your legs beneath the table and squeeze your thighs together.

And Kuroo's just...scanning the menu. Sitting idly before you. He's resting his chin against his open palm, long fingers brushing under his nose, while you're practically grinding down the chair.

You feel yourself leak into the crotch of your underwear, sticky liquid squelching against the crack of your ass as the toy continued to vibrate, burning you up and melting your insides, the buzzing a white noise only you could hear.

His indifference was unflappable. Kuroo even managed to call out, "Excuse me. Sorry about that earlier. We're ready now," so smoothly despite your desperate attempts to catch his attention. Then, he recited a bunch of dishes that you didn’t have the appetite for. Like you’re not outright writhing and earning a few disconcerted looks from the table next to you.

All you wanted was for him to put an end to this. You've learned your lesson. You're not gonna disappoint him again.

Instead, you watched in agonizing fear as he reached for his pocket. And immediately, without a warning, you felt the toy shake violently inside you.

"Ah!" you cried, sharply folding your arms and legs, making the plates and utensils clink against each other as your wrists chafed against your hard nipples.

Your boyfriend halted, leaned closer, and looked at you in a convincing display of concern.

"Are you alright, babe?" he muttered, caressing your knee, his nails pressing down just a tad. Not too hard. Just enough for you to hiss in a heady mixture of pleasure and pain.

You managed a small, quivering "uh-huh" as you begged him with your eyes. Conveying as much message as you could.

"Daddy, I'll be good for you. I swear. I won't lie anymore. I won't make you angry. I won't do anything that you wouldn't be happy about. Everything I do from this moment on will be just for you, daddy. I promise, daddy-"

But Kuroo only huffed out, a small, faint grin tracing his lips as he turned back to the waiter and said, "One cream pie, please."

Yandere! Kageyama Tobio

Content warning(s): rape/noncon

😇SFW😇

Fourth wall break, if you will: thank you, anon, for putting these characters together because I Believe that they’re each other’s foils in terms of yandere-isms. And this is gonna be an interesting contrast to see (at least, I hope it would be).

So Kuroo’s all subdued mind games, right? Like, you have to do a whole routine of mental gymnastics if you want to dig deep and analyze how he had your head spinning.

But Kageyama?

Kageyama says fuck that.

Kageyama, genius though he is, is about as subtle as a metal bat to the head when it comes to his darling.

He has no qualms about tying you to his bed once the opportunity presents itself to him.

But it didn’t start out like that.

At first, perhaps Kageyama was just an aloof classmate whose entire life revolved around volleyball.

The one who couldn’t even take a time out of his day to hang out with the rest of the class on a weekend.

Though Kageyama has a knack for attracting hostility from other people, there comes a time (rare it may be) that it is offset by people who are sympathetic to his idiosyncrasies.

His darling falls under the latter.

That's what draws Kageyama to you.

Hearing stuff like "D'you know what they used to call him before? King!" and "King because he's an arrogant dickhead who thinks he's better than everyone" are not new to him.

But hearing these are: "Stop that. It's rude to talk behind a person's back."

"Kageyama's passionate about volleyball. More than anyone we've ever met. Ok so it's alienating for us! Whatever! But isn't it admirable that he's doing his best at a thing that he loves?"

Kageyama did not get it.

You're not his teammate.

You're not his..anything.

You had no cause to try and be nice to him and defend him and..understand him, really.

So the rest was history.

The beginning might have been awkward.

Every time he tried to talk to you, Kageyama, for some reason, always blurted out the wrong things.

But you didn't mind. You just liked being his friend.

And Kageyama liked having you by his side.

Kageyama liked it, especially, when you're in the sidelines and cheering him on. (This caused quite a ruckus in Karasuno.)

It should have been weird. Kageyama had not known anything else besides volleyball.

Your presence should’ve been that of a stranger encroaching on someone else’s property.

Somehow, though, you fitted in so perfectly.

Like you’re made to be there.

So he tells you: “You’re free, aren’t you? You should be watching me play by now” and “You should be waiting for me after class” and “Stop making excuses. You’re not tired. You can still drop by practice”

You’ve tried to reason with him. (Even contemplated about ending your friendship.)

But it’s not like you’re ever gonna shake him off.

Besides, you know that he wouldn’t accept anything less than perfect.

😈NSFW😈

His darling was his first sexual experience.

And like any beginner, Kageyama was pretty...uh..bad at it ngl.

Add that to the fact that he’s on the bigger side and your first with him wasn’t consensual.

At that time, all Kageyama knew was that he really, really wanted to touch you and kiss you and fuck you senseless until you acknowledge that there’s no running from him.

Trust, though, that Kageyama will not settle for being bad or, heaven forbid, mediocre at it.

Nope.

Not. a. chance.

Doesn’t matter that you’ve spent the entire day fucking.

Kageyama will not rest- not let you rest, until he drags out a moan from you; until you’ve ruined the sheets with how much he’s made you cum; until he has you begging for more.

Will experiment a lot.

Will test out how fast and hard he has to fuck you to get what kind of reaction he wants from you.

Very attentive even to your quietest gasp.

If you so much as show a sign that you’re finding whatever it is he’s doing to your body pleasurable- curl your toe or arch your back- Kageyama will amp it up to the point where you’re screaming.

He’ll have this haughty, shit-eating grin while doing it too.

“Yes, you can,” Kageyama growled. “Spread those legs and show me how you do it.”

You shook your head, your body protesting at the slight movement. You’re already on the verge of blacking out. And you don’t have to check the ticking wall clock to know that, by now, Kageyama, too, should be knocked out and dozing off beside you.

But he only grabbed your wrists, making you howl in pain as soon as he touched the cuts and bruises across the skin. Remnants of the nylon rope that bound them together not too long ago.

“Touch yourself,” he repeated.

Kageyama’s voice is a rasping noise to your ears, his hot breath causing goosebumps all over you as he pressed his lips against the shell.

“No-no more, Kag-Kageyama,” you forced yourself to say, though your throat was dry and aching from all your screeching.

He clicked his tongue.

You flinched.

And you didn’t think it possible for Kageyama to be more frightening than he already is. Until you’d done as he’d told and, like a wolf patiently waiting to pounce, Kageyama zeroed in on how you moved your hands, his own reaching for his cock.

He didn’t take his eyes off of you, groaning as you trembled and mewled under your featherlight touch. Kageyama stroked himself, grinding into his fist until pre-cum dripped from the head.

“That how you like it, huh,” he croaked.

Before you could even reach an orgasm, Kageyama had already pushed you on your back, mimicking the way you pleasured yourself. Only this time it was rougher, more unforgiving, and indifferent to your cries of “Stop! Stop it, I can’t- Enough, Kageyama!”

#tw non con haikyuu #yandere headcanons #dark content haikyuu #yandere kuroo #yandere kageyama #yandere haikyuu #tw noncon #y/n's gender is not specified

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bukojuiice · 3 years

Text

this is how you fall in love ━ levi ackerman

ೃ pairing: (levi ackerman x gn! reader)

ೃ the entire division of the survey corps are not convinced that you and levi are absolutely actually together. however, it took a small expedition outside of the walls and an abnormal titan incident for everyone to coo adoringly at the soft and loving demeanor that levi holds around you and only you.

ೃ genre and warnings: canonverse, fluff, and strong language.

ೃ my nav → my aot masterlist → sign up for my taglist

ೃ 1.6k words

ೃ dedicated to one of my first uni friends, @ryscenery because if the two of us didn’t yell (affectionately) at each other for our love for levi, this fic may have never been birthed. i hope you enjoy! 🥺

Love certainly makes you do the wacky. But in a world where chaos is imminent, war is always looming, and people die to giant man-eating humanoid monsters, how can one possibly make their life akin to that of a romance novel?

Well, unfortunately, you can't.

It's a Live and Let Die world, after all.

But... to the remaining few of humanity who are strong and lucky enough to be still wandering the faces of the unknown world, love is a treasure. A gift only a few can find.

And somehow, and someway, you were lucky enough to find comfort in someone you never thought you'd expect to find.

Levi Ackerman.

The stoic and blunt smart-ass captain of the Survey Corps? Yes, him.

Honestly, it's quite a surprise. No one would have ever thought that someone could shake the world of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. It almost felt like a dream, honestly. Your subordinates and co-captains can't even get their heads wrapped around the fact that there's something between the two of you. Well, it's not like either you and Levi were bold enough to rub it in other people's faces.

Even Hanji, who made it seems as if they were utterly convinced over the fact that the two of you are together by teasing the two of you every time that you were within a few feet of each other, has their doubts.

It didn't take long until a minor expedition outside the walls made everyone in the division finally realize how much you and Levi were pining lovestruck dorks when hidden from the eyes of prying and spying soldiers.

An attempted attack from an abnormal titan had forced you to stray away from the rest of your squad's formation. Baiting the abomination away from your subordinates led you to get lost in the outskirts of an abandoned town. With a terribly injured leg, none of your essential equipment with you, and with no means of communication, you had no choice but to wait for the rest of the scouts on patrol to find you.

However, you were afraid of one person.

Levi knows how strong and how much you can hold up in a fight (Your Titan kill count is one of the highest in the Corps), but he hates how reckless you can get. How stubborn. How irrational your decisions can be at times and how much you hate the fact that he reprimands you for the littlest mistakes. Even if those mistakes could ultimately be the cost of your own life.

Catching sight of a shadowy figure and the sound of the clopping of horses from beyond a steep hill, you brace yourself for another long and agonizing lecture from Levi as he continues to approach.

"Captain (Y/N)!" Armin, a rookie soldier from your fleet, calls out. A look of relief forming on his face. "We brought Captain Levi! He's just behind us!"

"Oh, great." You whisper, grimacing to yourself. "Just great." Your wounded leg fails you as you try to prop yourself up onto your horse, falling back down on a mound of rubble.

You only wish you could know what Levi is feeling right now once he sees the predicament you've brought upon yourself once again.

"Captain (Y/N) has strayed away from our formation!" Jean reports sternly, a tinge of worry straining his voice. "They have diverted an abnormal titan from ruining our formation! As of now, none of us in the fleet know of their whereabouts! Neither do they have a flare gun nor any kits in case of an emergency, as they have left them with Krista before the expedition!"

Erwin clears his throat, shaking his head to try and keep his calm facade. "We'll send some soldiers to scout the-"

Before he could even finish his sentence, the distinct cry of a nearby horse could be heard. As the rest of the surviving soldiers turn their heads to where the sound came from, they could do nothing but stare agape at Levi's fleeting figure cross through the safe area and again into dangerous territory. No one could dare to stop him, after all. There was no way.

All they could do was stare in awe at the dramatic yet sweet gesture of the stone-hearted captain that happened right before their tired eyes.

Maybe now they're finally convinced that the two of you are actually together.

(Levi's POV)

I sprinted through the vast fields with all the remaining strength I could muster. After a long exhibition, I didn't expect I'd have to drag my ass around to find (Y/N). Yet, I could not recall the last time I found myself so short of breath.

Dammit. Please be safe.

I am only vaguely surprised to feel an icy trickle of sweat on the back of my neck and my wringing hands as I hold onto the saddle.

Hurry... I must hurry.

There was not a moment to waste. If there were a titan to cross through these shitty grasslands ever again, I'd have to kill these fuckers as fast as I can. Whatever it took to reach them.

....How unlike me.

I hated this feeling. I knew it was inevitable and could happen anytime, but my body launched forward before Erwin could even give his command. Duty decreed that I should have informed him, but the thought came far too late.

I have no doubt Erwin will conjure some excuse for me. After all, this is what everyone wanted, right? Didn't they want to see more proof of my undying love for them? Just because I don't make goo-goo eyes at them doesn't mean I wouldn't defy everything just to keep them safe.

Perhaps I am being irresponsible... but I have no choice but to put my trust in him.

For now, I have someone more important than anything else, someone I cannot fail. Someone I must save.

At the end of the maddeningly long field of nothingness and stark skies, my destination hoves into view.

As (Y/N)'s weakened figure appears closer and closer to me, I abruptly halt my steed and dismount from it. With all my strength once again, I rush to their side.

Moments later, you hear Levi's voice, whom you had seen off just this morning. Wincing in pain due to your injuries, you mentally prepare yourself for another scolding.

"Keep safe" were the words he'd never fail to whisper every time the both of you are forced to depart from each other. It wasn't the most romantic saying out there, but it meant a lot. Especially coming from Levi. He was not the most physically affectionate beau out there, but these little sweet nothings were enough to make your heart flutter.

Observing his looks as he approaches, Levi almost seems panicked. Out of breath, even breaking a sweat... you can't even remember the last time you saw him like this.

His piercing gaze bore into yours, and you felt as though you might fall into it.

Levi takes one step towards you and then another.

"I-I'm fine... okay?" You puff your chest and tug at his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry. I kicked that titan's ass before it could even get a hand of me. How about you? Are you alright? You're breathing so heavily."

He doesn't answer your question but instead drops his gaze into your shaking hands.

"(Y/N)..." His voice was barely audible, a whisper. There's this exasperated look in his eyes that you can't quite describe. And yet, through that faintest movement of his lips, you knew what he meant to say.

"Levi, listen. I'm-"

---And yet... he did not allow you to finish.

Soft warmth pressed against your lips. And his embrace... so intense yet so gentle.

He didn't have to say it with words; This is the first time Levi has shown such love through his touch. Kind, yet powerful. His kiss felt like the wings of butterflies, beating softly upon lips of crushed petals.

You remain in his arms, held tight to the Captain's chest.

The suddenness of his actions came as a surprise, of course... but even so.

The heat radiating from your bodies brought such a wellspring of happiness to you. You were so happy. So very, very happy.

It was so profound that you wished that it might never end.

"Tch. I thought I was going to lose you..." He trails off, squeezing your arm in slight annoyance. "W-why do you always have to be so damn reckless? Why can't you just stick to the plan?"

"Reckless is my middle name after all." You giggle, the kiss ever so deepening.

You're suddenly brought back into reality when a flustered cough echoes from behind you.

You and Levi took it as your cue to finally let go, releasing one another.

"I hope we're not interrupting something..." You turn to see Armin Arlert, a rookie from your fleet, approach the two of you awkwardly. "I'll be tending to Captain (Y/N)'s wounds... if you'd allow me." He clears his throat, clearly intimidated by the cold and striking facade emanating from Levi.

"Captain Erwin sent us." Mikasa added stoically. Ah yes, the ever so tactful commander.

"Were you brats watching?"

"No! Of course not!" Jean, Sasha, and Connie who were lagging from behind, dismiss Levi's claims with a dramatic wave of their hands. "We totally weren't-"

Levi sighs, "Look. Even if you were, I wouldn't get mad." There's a slight blush that slowly creeps on his face yet quickly fades away. "Just... don't get into details once Hanji or Erwin tries to bug you about it, alright?"

"Yes, Captain!"

"Thank you for coming to pick us up." You smile weakly as you let Armin kneel to tend to your wounds. "Who knows what could have happened if we were left here alone?" You nudge Levi's shoulder suggestively."

He smirks, chuckling to himself. "If we were, then they'll finally have more proof that the two of us are actually together, won't they?"

taglist: @crapimahuman @hu-tao-main @smg-valeria @moonless-abyss @midnightangelfox @dukina @chibishae34 @arvinrusselisbae @kenmakeii @eissaaaa @yummyyumi @the-one-that-lurks @prxttyguardian

#snk x reader #aot x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #attack on titan #levi ackerman fluff #levi x gn!reader #attack on titan x reader

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after-witch · 3 years

Text

Baby Mine [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Baby Mine [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: The first time you laid eyes on your child, you knew: You had to get out. Set in the ‘White Picket Fence’-verse.

For request: Something with Overhaul + the reader’s children and manipulation (I’m sorry I accidentally deleted the original message so I don’t remember the exacting wording!)

Word Count: 3328

notes: yandere, stockholm syndrome, abuse

From the instant you laid eyes on your daughter, the moment your gaze took in her fresh, wet skin and her small, blinking, uncomprehending eyes, you knew: you had to get the fuck away from Chisaki Kai.

The realization was instant, like a flash, peeling away years of manipulation and training and forced self-acceptance of your situation. Years of justifications and excuses that had wormed their way under your skin, forcing you to see the bright side, to see his side, and let yourself get wrapped up in its candy-coated, fluffy cotton bullshit--gone, ripped away with brutal, exacting force. All that was left was the stark realization, a single driving force shoving you forward: you and your daughter were going to get out.

That was four years ago.

Four years of agonizing pretending. Of forcing yourself to put back on the coat you'd worn before, the false version of yourself that loved him and accepted him and excused everything he ever did to you. It was hard. It was harder to pretend that you accepted this than to actually accept it, to indulge in his control. But every time your resolve weakened, it only took a glance at your child to remind you of why you couldn't just give in.

You had to get out, not for yourself, but for her. To give her a normal life. A life where she could be free, where she could have friends, where she could run outside and not be limited to the house or, if the weather was nice, the secure, high-fenced backyard that Kai had only built within the last year.

Four years of pretending. Four years of planning. And, most difficult of all, four years of waiting. Trust was not easily given by Chisaki Kai, even to the mother of his child.

So you waited.

You waited for Kai to move you two--no, three now--into a house, a real house; not in a populated suburb (another broken promise that you swallowed deep, deep down) but an offshoot of some protected compound in a remote area, where it could be secure and guarded. But what mattered is that its doors connected to the outside, not to some unknown underground bunker. You could manage, if you were connected to the outside.

You waited for Kai to ease up on the restrictions that built up around you during your pregnancy, rules to keep you under a far more watchful eye, rules that made it harder to find a way out. Inches of trust, gradually earned, which made it possible for you to think concretely about escape.

You waited for your daughter to get old enough to run, old enough to survive without needing to be fed every few hours, old enough to know how to stay quiet when told. Watching her grow up only made you want to leave, more. She had a personality now. Stubborn but accepting when she knew she wouldn’t win; sweet in her own way, an unusual way, likely one that came from a lack of interaction with anyone but her parents and a handful of trusted Shie Hassaikai members.

It was one of those trusted members--you never have learned their name, a secret Kai (nor they) were willing to give--that would be your key to escape.

They loved your daughter, too, in time. They were drawn in by her precociousness, her insistence on formalities and pleases and thank-yous. But it was her bubbliness and inherent interest in the world and people around her that made them decide to love her, too.Her big eyes and bubbling laugh when you two were allowed in the yard, sometimes under this member’s supervision.

To your daughter’s delight, they didn’t simply watch you like the handful of others did; they joined in the fun. Just a few weeks ago, she’d convinced him to push her so high on the swing set that she’d gone all the way around--even your heart briefly froze until she’d emerged on the other side, cackling with delight, safe and sound.

They were loyal to Overhaul. Of that there was no doubt. Had they killed for him? Maimed? Tortured? You tried not to think about the things that were done in Overhaul’s name.

Yet they’d betrayed him, all for the sake of your daughter. Part of you feels bitter that they wouldn’t betray him for the sake of you--but then, what was that saying? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

It was with their help that you were finally able to secure that last necessary piece of the puzzle for your escape: getting out of the secured, monitored gate surrounding the house unnoticed. He told you in hushed, intense tones that he would be on watch duty the night of your escape, that he would take care of the other member assigned that night, and that all you had to do was get out the door at the agreed time with your bag, your daughter, and a good pair of walking shoes. He would drive you as far as he could, and then you two would run, run, run after that.

It was going to work. Your daughter was going to live her life, a real life, not one carefully constructed in captivity. What would you do first, once you were free? The thoughts sometimes made you so giddy that you pinched yourself to calm down. So close, so close to the finish line, and you must be vigilant.

Tonight. You and your daughter are going to leave tonight.

Your daughter is in her bed, tucked in safe and secure. Her eyes are already closed, and Kai is sitting at the edge of the mattress, as always, smoothing down her hair and pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead. You watch from the doorway with your arms casually crossed, a small, tired, end-of-the-night smile on your lips. It's all so normal, so domestic, isn't it.

"Good night," he says, so soft and sweet that, if you hadn't been pulled out of your deluded coping mechanism, you might find it endearing. Instead, your thoughts scream: This will be the last time you ever see her, you fucked up piece of shit bastard. Oh, do you have a potty mouth when your 'husband' can't hear you...

He leaves your daughter to her dreams and clicks off the little lamp on her nightstand. When he crosses the doorway, you make room and he lets you slide your arm around his, linking yourselves together for the walk to your shared bedroom.

"Tired?" He asks, and you nod. You are tired. Not for the reasons he thinks, and not for the reasons you'll give, but the telltale darkness under your eyes belies the stress of planning your escape from a years-long ordeal.

You sigh, as soft and sweet as his voice was earlier. "Mmhmm. She didn't want to focus on her lessons today. I got a bit frustrated. Sometimes I don't think I'm cut out to be a teacher." By now you're in your bedroom and you casually take off your day clothes, dropping them in the labeled hamper in front of the closet. Your stomach twinges with the memory of how he used to look away when you took off your clothes.

But that was long ago, and now he continues the conversation casually as the pair of you strip and change into your respective pajamas. You slip a pink nightie with ruffled bottom over your head as he

"You just need more practice. Are you reading the lesson books before you start class?"

I wouldn't have to read any lesson books if you let her out of this house, if you let her out of school, if you weren't--you stop your thoughts, afraid that they might show on your face. Afraid that you might lose everything at this last, crucial moment.

But you know you look frustrated, so you roll with it. "Yes," you say, voice just the right amount of annoyed in retort. "But if she doesn't want to sit down and focus, me reading the lesson beforehand isn't really going to help, is it?"

He stares at you, and you wonder in a flash if you went too far. But in the next moment, he's simply continuing to button up his shirt. "Is it going to help our daughter learn if you take out your bad day on your husband?" His voice is dripping with the natural condescension that once had you questioning whether or not it was okay to be upset that he'd kidnapped you, and you hate it. But at least it's a sign that he bought your excuses.

You feel a warm flush of shame at the way his condescension still makes you feel less-than. You slide yourself into bed, under the covers, instinctively grabbing the book on your end table and staring down into it like you could simply disappear inside the pages. You can't mess up anything right now. The weight of what you need to do tonight feels so heavy and you can't stop your hands from trembling slightly.

"Sorry," you whisper, voice thick with emotion. "It's just hard sometimes. I feel in over my head."

It's Kai's turn to slide under the covers, though he doesn't bother grabbing his own book. Instead he gently pushes on your hands until you set the book on the covers. You know he wants you to look at him, so you do. He looks so gentle, so calm. Did he kill anyone today? Did he insult some hapless victim who crossed his organization, spewing venom with his words, before kissing your daughter goodnight hours later?

His gloved hands tip your chin up and it's a familiar feeling, an intimate feeling, when he pulls you in for a kiss. When he pulls away, he's smiling softly, indulgently. You aren't in trouble. You're good.

"I'll come home for lessons tomorrow and see what I can do. Would you like that?"

I'd like you to drop dead and make this easier on us, you think.

"Yes, Kai."

You smile. You nod. You let out a shaky sigh and lean your shoulders against his, picking up your book and signaling an end to the crisis. He lets you read quietly for a while before turning off the lamp on his side of the bed; it's a wordless signal that you already know: time to sleep. You're a dutiful wife and you put your book away and turn off your lamp and then turn back to your husband and whisper,

"Good night, Kai."

You wait until he's deep asleep to ease your way out of the bed. Every step you take in your padded socks makes you cringe. Will the floor creak? Will you make too much noise? Will you have to come up with a half-assed excuse as he comes to, groggily asking what you're doing? You feel like you can't breathe, but you do breathe, soft and shallow as you make your way to the bedroom door.

You didn't dare keep anything related to your escape in your shared bedroom. The door feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as you ever-so-slowly open it, keeping your head turned towards the man sleeping on the bed all the while. He doesn't stir. He simply continues to snore, even as the door opens enough for you to slip out.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you cross the hallway and into the spare room that you used as a playroom and, lately, a makeshift school. The bag you packed is in the closet, tucked behind bags of school supplies that you'd asked Kai to pick up in order to make sure that your escape bag didn't stand out. You grab it swiftly, along with your daughter's outdoor shoes, and make your way to the most dangerous element of your escape: your daughter's room.

She did so well. You remind yourself to praise her once you're away from the house, once you're in a car and making noise isn't a life or death dilemma. You built up the idea of your escape bit by bit over the past few weeks. You couldn't tell her that her father was a monster who kidnapped you, but you could prey on her desire to see more, to go beyond the rules established in her father's domain.

Don't you want to meet other kids? Go to the beach, feel the sand underneath your feet? Meet... your grandma? We'll just take a secret trip, you and me, and then come back to Papa when we're done. Then he'll see that it's safe to leave and come with us next time. But you have to keep it a secret. You can't tell him a thing, or we won't be able to go. You can keep a secret, can't you?

You kneel next to your daughter's bed and gently wake her up, whispering her name and stroking her hair, so she slowly opens her eyes in confusion before her gaze lands on your face and ah, a smile--it's just mom.

"Mama?" She asks, a bit too loudly for your liking.

"Shh baby," you say. "Yes, it's mama. Are you ready to go?" You see the tentativeness, the childish confusion in the way she nods. She doesn't know what real life is yet, she doesn't have an inkling of the freedom that she's lost, but she will.

You don't bother changing. You have a pair of clothes in the bag and you'll change when you're in a safer space. For now, you take her hand and lead her down the staircase, your chest tightening with every step. You can't help but glance back at the still-open doorway leading to your bedroom. You pray to whatever is listening that he won't wake up. Each step is a step closer to freedom. Each step is a terrifying risk that you or she might slip, might make noise, might wake him up.

Your spirits lift when you reach the bottom of the stairs. All you have to do is get out the door and he'll be waiting there with the key and a getaway car and freedom.

You clutch your daughter's hand, your own palm now sweaty; you nearly trip on a toy you forgot to pick up earlier, but thankfully the light in the entryway was turned on (you must have forgotten to turn it off) and you see it just in time to avoid disaster. You squeeze your daughter hand and turn the corner that leads to the entryway of your home--

Where Chisaki Kai is standing, waiting for you, his eyes practically illuminated by the glowing lamp light.

You drop the bag.

"No," you say. "No." Your mind suddenly feels fuzzy, like its buzzing, drowning out all of your thoughts with a pure denial of what you see in front of you.

"How--how did you--" you sputter, unable to continue voicing your question. It was all planned. It was all practiced. You pretended, you waited, you planned--for four years. How? How did he know?

He doesn't have to answer. You know the moment that your daughter's grip slips out of your hand and she runs up to her father, feet thumping on the floor. She clings to his side and doesn't look at you, and he runs a hand through her hair without taking his eyes away from your shaking form.

Of course she told him. Of course she told her papa that you wanted to leave. She loved him. Why wouldn't she? It was all she'd ever known. You were breaking the rules, breaking the structure that dominated her life since she could remember.

"Please don't be mad at me, mama." Your daughter whimpers against Kai, and you can hear the tears in her little voice, and your heart aches for her in so many ways.

"I'm not," you whisper. "I'm not mad at you, baby." You're just sad, so sad. It hurts. All of it.

"Sweetheart," Kai says, voice surprisingly calm despite the events, "go back to bed while I help your mother unpack your things, all right?"

Your daughter nods and suddenly she's against you, hugging you in a tight, childish way; you only have enough energy to pull your arm around her, limp and heavy, patting her back without really feeling it before she scampers up the stairs.

You're left alone. With him.

He approaches you slowly and you feel like an animal. There's wildness hammering in your heart and the thought comes up, unwillingly: could you still run? Escape on your own? And hope that some day, your daughter escapes and finds you? But the thought of leaving her behind is impossible to indulge in for more than a second, and you know that without her, your life isn't worth living. The thought of abandoning her to Kai Chisaki brings up an immediate sense of revulsion and guilt and shame.

"What were you thinking?"

You aren't looking at him, but you don't have to be looking at him to know that he's glaring at you. Looking down on you with his gaze filled with righteous justifications. You glance and--yes, he is, but there's something darker, something you’d forgotten, underneath. Your stomach suddenly feels loaded with weights and your legs move backwards, pulling you away from him, away from the anger that feels like it's radiating off him in waves.

He suddenly grips your chin with brutal force and yanks your jaw forward, forcing you to look at him.

"I had to kill one of my most trusted men today because of your..." His eyes dart back and forth for a moment, before he spits out the apparently perfect description of your escape attempt. "Hysteria. An absolute waste of potential, all because of your ridiculousness."

Your mouth is dry. Your voice is hoarse. But you speak up, anyway. You've already lost everything.

"It's not ridiculous to want to get out of here."

The weight of the years seems to press down on your shoulders, pounding into your bones, screaming in your ears.

"It's not ridiculous to--to want to take my daughter away from the man who kidnapped me and forced me to pretend like I was happy here, like I was happy living in some--" you cough, needing moisture, but not daring to stop to swallow lest you lose your courage. "--glorified dollhouse while you tell me what to do and what to wear and how to act and when to fuck you and when to have a baby and fuck you, fuck you, just fuck you Kai. I hate you. Oh I fucking hate you."

You don't notice as your voice gets louder, emboldened by the adrenaline that's been crashing through you since you opened the bedroom door, until his hand is gripping your upper arm in a show of brute, vise-length strength.

"Lower. your. voice."

His grip strengthens until you cry out, and then it gradually loosens without letting you go completely.

For the next few moments, you do nothing but stare at one another. Your mind feels hazy, darting from thought to thought. It was all for nothing. The last four years, all for nothing. But you think about your daughter, about what she may have been able to accomplish outside of these walls, and even the fantasy of a free life for her made it worth something--didn't it?

It's his voice that lowered, now, as he lets you go completely and straightens himself up. All business now. But what business will he engage in, this time?

"Perhaps you do need a vacation," he says, finally. Firmly. He's made a decision.

You wonder if he's lost his mind and you're about to ask as much before he continues.

"Did you know this house has a secret room? It's nice and quiet. The perfect place for you to recuperate until you've regained your senses."

The room, the room, the room.

Your hand instinctively claps against your mouth as you cry out.

After all, you don't want to wake your daughter up with your screams.

#yandere overhaul #yandere chisaki kai #yandere x reader #overhaul x reader #afterwitch writes

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