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aliidarling · 2 days

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i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame pt. 2

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader

part. 1

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: rick has been slowly trapping you with him, but someone comes up which ends in him having to remind you who u belong to

warnings: nsfw, p in v, fingering, noncon pretty much, manipulating, gaslighting, toxic rick, creampie, baby trapping, rough sex

i took inspo from an anon who requested baby-trapping :3

dark content below !!

You thought after a few days or weeks of being a B at the CRM would fill the void in your heart, the need to go back home and reunite with your friends and family. You could only imagine their smiles and faces, as now you had no way of contacting them. Rick was watching you like a hawk, eyes always on you even when he wasn’t in the room.

The sound of Judith’s laughter echoed in your head as you sat in your new apartment, his. He had just recently asked you to move into his commander suite, which you really couldn’t say no to, who would? The chance to be closer to your husband? You would be crazy to reject such an offer.

Every day of the last week had gone the same. You’d wake up in his arms, make love, eat breakfast, and split ways, Rick off to command and you on your way to stab walkers at the gate for hours in the heat. The thick uniforms were annoying but you were starting to get used to it.

What didn’t sit right with you was how *casual* Rick was with this whole thing. You had made the mistake of trying to reason with him a few weeks ago, which now was a reminder in your head not to anger him.

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” He says angrily, glaring at you. He was livid, frustrated, and mostly offended. He had been so gentle and kind with you, and you go off and try and run away.

“I was trying— I was, I just got lost, Rick.” You plead quickly, your words a mess as you look up at him pleadingly. Your lips tremble as you see his fists clench and his nose flare. He was pissed off.

“You’re trying to leave me, aren’t you?” He scoffs, turning away to shake his head in disbelief. “Un-fucking-believable.” He sighs to himself. You shrivel up, tears pricking at your eyes. You didn’t want him to be angry at you, why was he angry? You loved him.

“I swear, I swear I’m not. I won’t try to leave, Rick.” You step forward and pull him into a hug, burying your face into his chest as you whimper. He lets out a dramatic groan, rolling his eyes and reluctantly wrapping his arms around you.

“You can’t keep doing this, sweetheart. You know I care about you. How am I supposed to take care of you when you’re not with me, hmm? You’re so small, someone else could just,” He initiates a pew pew sound, making you flinch and curl up further into him. He holds back a mean snicker.

“Say, why don’t you start staying with me? I’ll keep you safe. You’ll wake up in my arms every day and I can stuff that needy pussy whenever you want.” He coos lovingly into your ear, gently picking you up.

The rest was history. Shortly after, you moved in with him, and now you woke up every morning in his arms and fell asleep in them. He would manage to sneak into some of your shifts as the Commander to keep watch, but you could feel his eyes burning through your uniform, you knew you were the only reason why he was there.

But today, something felt off. You were talking with one of the friends you had made in the past month, Micheal. He was one of the B’s as well, you saw him from 8 am to 6 pm every day and during meal breaks. He was sweet, fluffy hair with a killer smile and dimples to die for.

“Did you know one of the a B’s broke into the cafeteria last night and stole a bunch of food? The commanders were all talking about it this morning, they’re pissed.” He innocently gossips. He smiles at you, turning to face you slightly as he stabs a walker right in the face.

You remember Rick slightly talking about it earlier. You give Micheal a nod, politely smiling back at him.

“I dunno who did it, but I hope they got enough for me. I’m starving.” You joke softly. He chuckles and nods, his hands at work but his eyes on you.

As the two of you continue talking happily, relieved at the small distraction from the labor you were forced to do, you feel a pair of eyes burn onto your back. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly knew who it was. You could recognize that grumpy aura from anywhere.

Peering behind you, you made quick eye contact with a tall commander. Even with the mask on, you knew it was him, you could tell. He was staring right at you, arms crossed and body language annoyed.

You shrink slightly and glanced back at Micheal, taking a small step back. You cough to yourself.

“Sorry, I’ve been kinda sick recently so.. We should keep some space, don’t wanna get you sick, do I?” You laugh softly.

He blinks in surprise before nodding quickly, a small blush coming over his cheek as he realizes his close he was to you. It was cute how giddy he was when it came to you, it was obvious the boy had a crush.

“Of course! What do you have? A cold? Fever? Do you want me to bring something over later? I have some medicine at my place.”

It was as if Rick had heard those words because next thing you know you’re getting shoved back into a hard chest.

“Consignee, you’re being called.” A rough voice says. You look up behind you to see the tall commander you already knew who was gazing down at you coldly. He diverts his attention to Micheal, and his gaze goes angry. You can see the dents between his brows that he has when he gets angry.

“Yes, commander.” You salute, glancing at Micheal and giving him a weak smile before walking off.

Rick stands there for a moment, glaring at Micheal, before following you.

Once you’re inside the building and in a private hall, he doesn’t waste a second and shoves you against a wall, his mask already off and his face all up in yours.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Flirting with others in front of my face like I’m some fuckin’ idiot.” He snapped. His rough hands go to hold your shoulders flush to the wall, his eyes narrowed with a glint of menace in them. He was angry, pissed off, and confused.

Why would you go and flirt with someone else when you have him? He was the perfect husband— talk, handsome, sweet personality, and amazing bed skills, something he was sure Micheal didn’t have. Stupid Micheal probably didn’t even know how to be a real man. Rick was a real man.

“What are you talking about?” You gasp. “I wasn’t flirting with him— what?! Me and him are just friends!” You counter immediately, getting defensive and offended.

“Like hell you are,” He scoffs, pushing you closer. His eyes gaze down at you coldly, narrowed and furious. He stares at you before pressing his nose against you, his hot breath on your face. You shiver and try to lean back but the wall has you trapped.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him right there, would have painted the gates with his blood. Would you of liked that?” He sneers. You go still momentarily, thinking over his harsh threat, your heartbeat racing.

“No, no Rick. You don’t need to do all that— I won’t talk to him.” You say quickly, reaching to gently cup his face with your shaky palms. You gulp nervously and attempt to soothe him, rubbing gently and pressing a little peck to his lips. He growls against your lips, pulling you back in when you attempt to part. He doesn’t want to be away from you right now, he wants all of you and your loyalty entirely.

It had been a few days since then. Everything was supposedly fine, you guessed. Rick was still watching you like a hawk. You could feel the glare on your back whenever Micheal goes anywhere near you, so you make sure to come up with excuses to leave the young man alone for the sake of his safety.

You didn’t want anything to happen to him. You knew Rick. You used to, that is. You had no idea why he had changed so much, but you couldn’t just leave him. No— You loved him. You wouldn’t leave. Maybe you could help him go back to his old self, maybe he was just damaged.

Yeah. That’s it. He needs you. You have to help him. Aid him in returning to his old self so you can have *your* Rick back.

You were out by the lake when you heard leaves crunching next to you. You turned to face the disturbance, your heart skipping a beat when you thought it was Rick— but the sight of the blonde boy had you relaxing for some reason.

“Micheal.” You greet with a polite smile, shuffling on the bench to make room for him. He smiles back at you and sits down, a few inches between your thighs.

“You alright? I’ve uh, noticed you’ve been a little distant recently.” He frowned, leaning back on the bench and gazing at the beautiful lake in front of the two of you. It was fall, the leaves were falling and the sidewalk was covered in a variety of red, orange, and yellow.

Your smile twitched as you picked at your hair.

“It’s nothing, just haven’t been feeling well. I think I caught a cold.” You chuckle softly, facing him slightly. You put your arm on the back of the bench, leaning on your palm. You gazed at him closely.

Knowing Rick wasn’t here, you felt oddly comfortable. You weren’t scared of accidentally angering him by being friendly with Micheal like you could breathe clearly for once.

He gives you a concerned look, brows furrowing innocently.

“Oh, that’s not good. How do you feel today?”

A small sigh left you as you squirmed in your position, not sure what to say. Pressing your lips together for a moment, you pondered.

“…Peachy.”

A small giggle left the both of you as you sat and conversed freely, no commanders breathing down your neck or glaring daggers.

You should have known that the peace never lasted long when it came to being married to a ticking time bomb. The second you entered your apartment, the air was tense and you could tell by the way Rick was looking at you that you did something wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You said immediately, rushing forward to him. You gently place your hands on his forearms, frowning up at him innocently. What did you do? Why is he angry?

He grunts lowly and grabs you by your shoulders, pushing you back until your back is against the wall. You failed to speak as your throat went dry, your heart stopping for a good second.

“Rick—“ Your voice cracked, a yelp leaving you as his fist landed on the wall just inches from your face.

“Shut the hell up, you ungrateful little,” He inhales deeply before he says something he knows he’ll regret. One hand next to you clenched in a fist, the other rubbing his jaw in a stressed manner, he finally looks down at you with a harsh glare.

“Do you even love me?” He chokes out, blinking. His voice was scratchy, the southern accent from years ago a subtle hint now.

You blink in surprise, lips parting as you stand there confused and fearful.

“W-What? Of course, I do! You're my husband, I searched for you for years,” You were once again interrupted by him as he raised his voice at you, making you flinch and cower in his presence.

“The hell were you doin’ with Micheal, huh?! That skimpy little boy— Out there by the lake, talking like you’re two little love birds, who the hell do you think you are?!” He snaps.

His hands come up to your face aggressively, making you flinch as you think he’s gonna hit you. He instead cups your cheeks and leans down so he’s breathing down your cheeks.

“You thought I was gon’ hit you? Is that how low you think of me? What the hell?” His raised voice has you practically trembling in fear, legs wobbly and bottom lip quivering pathetically.

“N-No Rick, you know I don’t think of you like that. You’re scaring me, please.” You whimpered out, attempting to squirm out of his hold. He tightens his grasp on you, pressing his body against yours.

“You shut that pretty mouth of yours, baby, before I do something you really won’t like. I’ll give you a reason to cry, got that? Huh?” He shakes you, making your eyes burn with humiliation and tears.

“Y-Yes.” You nod, your hands shakily reaching for him as you weakly attempt to push his hands off your face. In response, he slightly slaps your cheek as a warning, a pressurized pat.

You blink hard, trying to hold back the tears. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

He stares you down, thinking silently in his head. He was quiet, and his silence was more threatening than his words for some reason. He was unrecognizable when it came to reading him. He used to be easy to calm down, but not anymore.

“Y’know, I never got to see you with a baby bump. Saw you raise Carl with me, but never saw you pregnant. Never.” He mumbles. His eyes narrow as he looks you up and down. His words send goosebumps down your spine, the dark reasoning behind them known to you. You attempt to push him off more firmly now, sniffling.

“Don’t do this,” You choke out. He ignores your pleas and grabs you, manhandling you into his bed and pressing you down. His body was big and muscular, he had grown a lot. Small pleas leave your throat as you squirm and thrash, but it’s all useless to him.

“Shhhh, I’m not gonna hurt ya’, is it so bad I wanna see my wife pregnant? You’d look so cute, belly full of my babies.” He whispers, smiling down at your form. He pushes his hands under your shirt and pulls it up over your head. It gets stuck on your head because of your thrashing, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

He slaps your thigh once he has the shirt off you, scowling down at you.

“Behave, or I swear to god.” He hisses. He watches as you start to let tears stream down your cheeks, and he holds back the smile as he reaches down and gently kisses them away.

“Don’t cry baby, you’re gonna be the prettiest mama I know.” He mumbles as he starts to kiss up your belly, pampering you with affection that only makes you feel worse. Every kiss has you sniffling and hiccuping under him, your body trembling.

“Can’t run from me when you’re pregnant with my child, right?” He chuckles darkly, large hands cupping your belly. He squeezes it gently and smiles at your reaction.

He pulls you in for a kiss, hands tugging down your pants and panties, not wasting any time. He was impatient, he’d admit it. He didn’t want another second to go where you weren’t stuffed full of his seed.

Spreading your thighs was hard with the way you were squeezing them shut. He rolls his eyes at your fight but easily holds them apart, the other hand going down to your pussy.

He clicks his tongue as he feels how barely wet you are. “Whatever, it’ll do.” With that, he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He glares at you, waiting for your saliva to coat his fingers before he pulls out and shoves them knuckle-deep into your cunt.

“A-Augh!” You gasp at the sudden burn in your lower region, your body tensing and eyes fluttering. Even with your salvia around the fingers currently thrusting deeper into you, it still hurt like a bitch to be stretched open so suddenly. Rick’s fingers were thick.

“Shhh, take it, c'mon.” He mutters, eyes narrowed as his fingers keep sliding in and out roughly, not giving you a chance to breathe as he makes scissoring motions.

Your moans are forced out of your throat. Even with how hard you were trying to hold them back, Rick knew exactly how to make you feel good, knew which spots make your toes curl and which ones made you cum the hardest.

He ignores your shaky cries and how you begged him to stop, his fingers only going harder. You curl up at the feeling, gasping. You were already feeling close to cumming to your embarrassment.

“So close already?” He snickers meanly, pulling out swiftly and rushing to unbuckle his belt and pull down his jeans. He was in a hurry, a hurry to get balls-deep in you and fuck you until you’re leaking cum. “Poor baby.” He tsk’s at your whimper.

“No, don’t— Rick,” You beg desperately as he pulls out his hard cock and positions himself on top of you, tip against your opening and his hands holding you down. You feel more tears coming as your legs are forced open and your thighs are pressed against your chest, knees almost touching your chin.

You sob under him as he slowly thrusts inside, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. Even with how he stretched you open, it still felt like he was ripping you open whenever he slid himself into you.

He presses his chest down onto your thighs, legs over his shoulders, and his hands grab yours to hold them above your head. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, trembling in a mix of fear, pain, and arousal. You didn’t k is what to do.

“Please—“

“Shut up, shhh.” He starts to thrust, and you immediately start to moan at how deep his cock hit inside you. Gasping for air as you choked on your tears, his grunt grew louder as he picked up a smooth pace.

“Gonna stuff this pussy full of my babies, you’re gonna be so pretty pregnant, baby, don’t cry, don’t cry.” He soothes you, thrusting harder into your wailing hole.

Even with how good it felt to have him thrust into your body, his body pressing against yours with his lips pressing gentle kisses all over you, you couldn’t focus on any of it. All you could think of was how much he had changed. The Rick you knew would never do this to you.

Your body was being pleasured, but your heart was being stabbed over and over again, aching and throbbing painfully. You just wanted this all to stop and for him to hold you close and comfort you. Was that too much to ask for?

He groans and reaches down to get as close to you as possible, saying, "Fuck, fuck." He intended for you to feel every single inch of him, the depth of him being there in your tiny little pussy, and every feeling he gave you.

“Ya’ feel that? Yeah? Can you feel how deep I am in that pussy of yours? I can feel you gripping me, my love; must feel so good, doesn't it?” Your cries are muffled as he successfully presses his cock further, his fat head grazing your tender region and making you clench up.

“Gonna cum inside you and force you to take every drop, knock you up, and then you can’t leave me. You’re not going anywhere, all mine sweetheart.” He rambles into your ear as his thrusts continue, your eyes rolling back at the force and pace. You sobbed under him for mercy but he didn’t listen, instead tightening his grip on your wrists.

“Fuckkkk, feels so good,— Take every bit of it, kay? Gon’ make you cry so much harder if you don’t,” He groans. He buries himself as deep inside you as he can, hugging you tightly to his chest as he releases his thick load in your walls. It takes him a moment to part from you, sweating and panting. You had him whimpering on top of you, still holding you down. He starts to sloppily thrust again, making you flinch at the feeling.

“No, please stop! I can’t take anymore, please!” You plea, whining shakily as he rams into your sensitive hole over and over again. You already had his cum dripping out of you, the squelching sounds making you blush in embarrassment as he kept going. He invokes your words and continues his torturous pace.

“We’re gonna be here for a while, sweetheart.” He chuckles darkly. With a raspy groan, he grasps your waist, letting your wrists go finally and holding your waist as leverage to batter your insides easier.

“If you think I’m goin’ to sleep tonight without a shit load of cum inside you, then you’re stupider than I thought.”

Yeah, you were definitely getting pregnant after this.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes smut #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x reader smut #the walking dead smut #twd #towl #twd towl #the ones who live #twd the ones who live #Spotify

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love-has-a-way-ofgrowingbackward · 11 months

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thinking about hamilton and burr together but not in a kissing way but in a you are so different on surface but are made of the same core way. they have the same sort of wants and hurt but they project it in such different ways.

#two people put together like that would either love each other with their entire hearts or would kill each other.#maybe both #alex and henry from rwrb are kind of examples from this.#look cmq made alex too similar to hamilton and henry too similar to burr for me to not connect the dots.#but while their character traits put them lethally against each other in the play in the book its.. different.#i can talk about alex more since both in the book and play we see alexander more (both such fucking main characters)#i think alex from rwrb had a comparatively better foundation in childhood than hamilton. he's less scrappy than hamilton #he still does things like be lonely and drown himself in his work etc etc you all saw the parallels #but but but he sort of has room for love in his heart in a way hamilton doesnt. maybe he did with laurens because its said that he #never really opened up the same after he died. makes me think that was pretty serious. but its not in the play so im not going too much #into it. alex isn't as suspicious and survivalistic as hamilton. if hamilton saw henry he would've never put him before his work #but alex does. from his side i think that's what makes the difference.#like how he says to henry in the fight scene that they're not really very different people?? remember that #there's waaay too many coincidences i am ready to believe cmq wrote rwrb as a very very sneaky adaptation of hamiltons life #the slightest hint from them and i would believe it. this is a conspiracy theory i can get behind #rwrb #red white and royal blue #hamilton #hmm i been having thoughts about this for the past 2 hours #maybe this stem thing was a mistake maybe i should've taken literature. i like what i do though

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joonsmagicshop · 1 month

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Stress Relief Series Part 4- KSJ

Summary: A couple weeks ago Taehyung asked a favor. For you to have sex with his bandmates to relieve some tension and stress. How can you say no to that

Paring: Jin/Reader

Rating: 18+/M

Word Count: 6k

Tags: Smut, fingering, eating out, fucking against a mirror, wrap it before you tap it people, spanking, dirty talk, Jin calls her princess.

Authors Note: You can not tell me Seokjin wouldn't love to fuck someone against a mirror so he could look at himself. I rest my case.

In case you missed it

Part 1 (intro)

Part 2

Part 3

Spring had finally decided to make an appearance four days after your steamy night with Jungkook and you were going to take full advantage of the beautiful weather.

Right as the clock struck noon you grabbed your bag and your light pink spring coat making your way out of your stuffy office and crossing the busy street to the park which had many beautiful trees that were just starting to bloom, bringing the promise of longer days and balmy temperatures.

You found yourself smiling as you spotted the perfect bench under a giant oak tree and you snagged it before anyone else could, setting out your lunch and deciding to people-watch instead of scrolling your phone like you usually did during your hour-long lunch.

The park was full of people, mostly kids playing around, some runners and bike riders, and of course, many couples holding hands and taking pictures as the sun beamed down on them.

You smiled at the happy couples feeling joy blooming in your chest.

You had been happy all week which was totally due to the sudden nice weather and definitely not because you had not stopped thinking of that night with Jungkook.

Nope, that wasn't it at all.

You were so lost in your thoughts of that night that you hardly noticed your phone vibrating on your lap.

You scooped it up last minute and saw someone was calling you

more specifically an unknown number was calling you

“Hello?” You answered settling into the bench and throwing your head back to let the rays of sun that were peaking through the branches hit your face.

“Hey Y/N right?” Came a suave male voice you sort of recognized.

“Yes, this is her.” You answer trying to match his suaveness.

“It's Kim Seokjin. How are you?”

You jolt your head up so fast the world spins for a moment.

You really thought you'd be used to this by now but you still felt your heart race in your chest at the prospect that he was reaching out to you.

Tae never said who would contact you when so it was always a surprise.

“I'm good just on my lunch break how about you?” You ask trying to seem as chill as possible.

“Good we are just on a break here and I figured I'd reach out.” He says voice dropping low which has your eyebrow quirking up and arousal flooding your veins.

“Hmm and what did you want to reach out about?” You almost purr which has him softly chuckling on the other line.

“Well as you are very aware we have a tour coming up and there are things I'd like to do before we leave, things that make me feel less stressed you know.” He teases which has your thighs clenching together.

You pushed your hair back from your face and smiled deviously.

“And what would those things be hmm?” You inquire biting at your lips.

“Well, so here's the thing.” He says, his voice no longer an octave lower, and has you sitting up in your seat.

“I have a reservation booked at Lalune tomorrow night and wanted to know if you wanted to go with me. I know one of the chefs and he told me to come anytime but we have our tour coming up so I want to go before I leave. What do you say?”

You are speechless

Lalune was known as one of the top-end restaurants and was rated the best restaurant for the past three years. It was in a fancier part of the city and you had walked by it before. You remembered seeing people sitting at small quaint tables lined with black tablecloths drinking and eating food that was probably half your rent. There was a massive fireplace and a giant chandelier with small crescent moons hanging from it. The place screamed money and you never thought you'd even be allowed to step foot in there.

“I...um? Are you sure?” You ask as you fiddle with your dress pants and top, mentally going through your entire closet to try to remember if you have anything fancy to wear.

“If I wasn't sure I wouldn't ask. Yes, I'm sure. It's always more fun to share a meal with other people. I tried to get Namjoon to come with me but he already has plans...some art thing.” Seokjin explains as you feel your heart hammer in your chest.

“Oh yeah, the new exhibit is supposed to be really cool, about light refraction in art.” You say as you gather your things and head back towards the office.

“Impressive. I'll have to let Namjoon know our girl knows her art.” Seokjin teases as you feel yourself blush.

Our girl

“Anyway please say yes. I'm going to be honest I'm not someone who can just... hook up with someone I don't know. I'd love to take you out to dinner and get to know you better. I don't want you to think I'm using this dinner to get in your pants at all! Like I said earlier it's always fun to eat with company. And if we don't end up hooking up I hope I make a really good friend.” He says which has you smiling as you enter the office.

“Of course, I'll go with you.” You say heading towards the elevator and trying to keep the giddiness in your chest at bay.

“Okay! I'll come pick you up around six! Oh, you're going to love it!” Seokjin says his voice laced with excitement.

You say your goodbyes and hang up and by the time you make it back to your office, you can't stop grinning.

And here you are now.

Standing in front of a mirror wearing a little black dress adorned with gold jewelry. Your hair is pinned up in a half up-do and you are nervously pacing your living room waiting for his car to arrive.

You try your best not to pick at your lips or nails as you wait, instead, you focus on straightening everything out in case he does want to come up after dinner.

Right at six you hear a car outside and race to the window to see a black van with the license plate he texted you earlier.

You hastily grab your bag and your tan pea coat before locking the door to your apartment, your heels click-clacking on the concrete steps as you make your way to the car.

Seokjin is standing outside of it holding the door open and your jaw almost drops.

There is a reason he is called worldwide handsome.

His hair is dark and pushed back from his forehead with a few stay pieces flopping forward giving him an effortlessly disheveled look. He is wearing a black leather jacket with a low-cut black shirt underneath and multiple necklaces. His dress pants are also dark and something about the way he looks makes your heart race fast and your stomach flip in arousal.

“You look beautiful.” He says as a way of greeting you as he helps you into the van and slides in the back seat alongside you.

Before you can comment on how good he looks, the van is already pulling away from the curb and he is talking excitedly about this restaurant and the menu.

You let him chat the whole ride there taking in every word. It was obvious he knew a lot about different foods and different flavor combinations and you soaked it all in as the driver pulled the car in behind the restaurant and Seokjin got out to get your door for you.

A classic gentleman.

“I had the chef get us a private room with a private menu too. I hope you don't mind.” He says as you step out of the vehicle and he takes your hand to lead you to a back door.

He slips his phone out of his jacket and sends a quick text and stares down at you.

“I did mean what I said earlier. You are very beautiful. No wonder Taehyung wouldn't stop talking my ear off until I pushed him to approach you.” He teases which has your jaw-dropping.

“Wait what? I didn't know that.” You respond as the door opens and Seokjin puts a hand on your back to usher you inside.

A waitress takes you down a narrow hallway and soon enough you are in a fairly large room that has the lights dimmed and a couple tables decorated with black tablecloths and small pillar candles that have tiny moons and suns carved into them.

Other couples are sitting at these tables but none of them look up when you and Seokjin get seated at your table.

“This is called the parlor, it's very private and you are only allowed in if you know the chef or the owner.” He explains as he pulls out the chair for you and you graciously sit down.

You stare around the room taking it all in. The fireplace is lit and throwing light around the room which is catching the small stars and moons hanging from the ceiling, their reflections illuminated on the walls.

“This place is amazing. I mean. Wow Seokjin.” You breathe out still taking your time to look around.

He smiles at you in a way that makes you suddenly feel shy.

“Please call me Jin. Seokjin is much too formal.” He says as the waitress from earlier comes back and brings a bottle of wine to the table.

You both drink slowly as you take in the atmosphere and the soft music playing in the background.

“I'm just honored you'd want to take me here. Like genuinely honored.” You say staring at his handsome face and trying not to blush under the low light.

“Well, you are much prettier to look at than Namjoon.” Jin teases as his hand traces the stem of the wine glass and you smirk and shake your head at his boldness.

“So you were there the night Taehyung and I first met?” You ask as your first course gets delivered to the table.

Jin smiles softly and begins to tell the story as you both eat.

Six courses and a bottle of wine later you are feeling full and happy. It turns out you and Jin had a lot to talk about and the conversation and atmosphere were both wonderful.

When the check came Jin slipped his black card to the waitress and smiled softly at you as you finished the last sips of your wine. You wanted to take it easy on the alcohol tonight as you wanted to remember this entire night.

“I'm just going to text the driver to let him know we are finished,” Jin said pulling out his phone and smiling as he typed away.

The parlor slowly started to empty out and after a couple quick messages Jin announced the driver was there and it was time to go.

You stood up and his hand was soft and warm on your back as he directed you out into the hallway and out the back door where the car was already waiting.

Even though spring had arrived the nights were still cool so you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself as Jin rushed forward to open the door for you.

You climbed in with him right behind you and the van made its way back to your apartment.

The drive back was mostly quiet. You watched the city lights from the window as Jin typed on his phone. You weren't offended at all, instead, you were grateful for the silence as you tried to remember every single detail of tonight and commit it to memory.

“Sorry, Namjoon is sending me pictures of the exhibit to show me what I'm missing out on,” Jin said with a laugh as he showed you his phone and the very artsy pictures Namjoon had taken.

“Looks nice.” You say slowly resting your head on his shoulder, feeling sleepy from all the food.

“Better than a dinner date with me?” He teases as he fishes his arm out from your body to wrap it around your shoulders.

“That depends. Would the exhibit have that great toffee dessert we had?” You tease as the car pulls up to your apartment.

Jin laughs at your joke and you slowly remove your head from his shoulder when you feel the car stop.

“I know the exhibit wouldn't but maybe your apartment would? Should I come inside to check?” Jin answers smoothly as your eyes widen and you nod.

He smirks at you.

You both make your way into the apartment and you kick off your shoes as Jin looks around. You let him take his time as you shuck off your coat and begin to walk around turning on lamps to cast the space in a warm cozy glow.

“This space is beautiful! Except there is something wrong with your couch.” He says as he also takes off his shoes and shucks off his jacket.

You stare at the couch seeing absolutely nothing wrong with it.

“What do you mean?” You ask him still staring at the couch confused.

“There's a Tata plush on it.” Jin points out and you bite back a laugh.

The day after Jungkook came over you found a strange white package on your doorstep. You didn't order anything but it had your address on it so you carefully tore it open to see a small Tata plush wrapped in tissue paper and bubble wrap.

You shook your head at Taehyung's antics and grinned when you saw a note fall out.

Just a reminder of who was here first baby girl. Missing you

You texted Taehyung thanking him for the gift and he sent a kissy emoji back. You decided to keep Tata on your couch as decoration from then on.

“Yeah, Tae sent that to me as a kind of joke.” You answer as Jin walks over and he rolls his eyes.

“It should be an RJ plush. So much better you know.” He teases with a tilt of his eyebrow.

You laugh as he pulls you in closer and your breath hitches. He is even more beautiful up close as his warm hands wrap around your middle bringing you flush against his strong chest.

You smile up at him and before you know it he pulls you even closer causing your noses to brush and his lips to meet yours halfway.

You kiss him softly and slowly, letting him take control as he takes his time exploring your mouth. His hands run up and down your back making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He pushes harder against you and you gasp which gives him time to lick at the seam of your mouth. You feel your body tingle with desire when you run your hands up and down his broad shoulders and his hands tangle in your hair.

His hand comes up to cup your jaw and hold it steady as he very slowly tilts your head back so your jaw and neck as exposed to his soft lips.

His kisses are warm against your skin and he sucks light marks into your neck which has you pushing your body into his.

When he sucks harder his name falls from your lips in a drawn-out moan and he pulls away grinning at you.

“I wanted to do that since the moment I first saw you.” He admits as you blush under his gaze.

He confidently grabs your hand and takes you through your apartment until you are both standing in the bathroom.

You can't help but laugh.

“Jin my bedroom is the next door over.” You say as he steps towards you until your body is flush against the bathroom counter.

Jin's eyes are dark and his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

“I was thinking we could fuck right here. If you'd be up for that.” He responds darkly as you shiver under his gaze and he grabs your arm to spin you around so you are facing your own reflection.

“You mean shower sex?” You almost whisper as you can feel the tension in the room rise. His eyes are dark and staring into yours through the mirror as his hands come up to trace your curves over your dress.

“I mean I want to fuck you against this mirror so you can watch how good I make you cum.” He answers as you shiver and nod.

“Use your words, princess.” He demands as his hand plays with the zipper at the top of your dress. Your eyes are blown wide with lust and you answer him, your eyes never leaving his piercing stare through the mirror.

He chuckles and his hand tugs on the zipper of your dress. He takes his time dragging it down, so slowly you are squirming when he finally gets it zipped down to your hips.

“Step out of it for me princess.” He commands as you comply and kick the fabric out the door.

“God your body is perfect.” He mutters as his hands explore your body. He takes his time with you, hands lightly grazing your skin making goosebumps appear as he unclips your bra and throws it to the floor.

His hands replace the bra as he cups your breasts and lets his thumbs flick over your sensitive nipples and you arch your back into his body as a moan falls from your lips.

“Such a pretty girl.” Jin coos as his hands massage and grope at your breasts. You grip the counter for support and your eyes roll back when he pinches a nipple between two fingers.

“And so responsive too.”

You don't bother to answer instead you let him explore your body. His hands begin to massage the underside of your breasts and soon enough they are moving down to your underwear.

You tilt your head back to rest it on his shoulder and try to keep your eyes open to stare at what is happening through the mirror.

You have never had an out-of-body experience before but you feel like this is as close as you'd ever be to getting on.

“Can I take these off?” He asks motioning to your underwear and you nod frantically.

As he did with your dress he takes his time taking off your underwear, sliding them painfully slowly down your butt and thighs until you can take them off and kick them out of the way.

You are stark naked in front of him and he is grinning at you like he just won the lottery.

“Gotta be honest. I'm really glad Namjoon couldn't attend tonight. This view. Better than any art exhibit.” He says as he places a soft kiss on your shoulder and you melt into his touch.

You whine out his name and his eyes snap to yours in the mirror reflection.

“Didn't I tell you, princess? You have to use your words.” He teases as his hands run up and down your hips and you once again arch back into him, delighted to feel his hard-on pressing against your back.

The feeling of his hard cock trapped in his slacks has you gasping as Jin continues to pepper kisses along your shoulders, his hands still exploring the expanse of your naked body.

“Want to see you too Jin. Wanna see you naked.” You whimper as his lips leave your neck and he grins at you through the reflection.

He takes his time taking off his necklaces and placing them on the counter and when he finally gets his shirt over his head you gasp.

His body is tanned and toned. His shoulders look even broader without a shirt and you can't stop your eyes from wandering down to the very obvious bulge in his pants.

“Pants too. Wanna make you cum.” You plead as you try to spin around to help him take off his belt but he's too strong and keeps you caged against the counter, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he pushes his hard cock into your back, keeping you pinned.

“Let me make you cum first.” He says as his hands start to move towards your core which is soaked with arousal.

You spread your legs to give him better access and he chuckles against the damp skin of your neck.

“I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?” He asks as his hand finally comes to your center and he drags his finger through your arousal.

You throw your head back and whine loudly as Jin's finger comes up to play with your aching clit.

“Please. Fuck. Please Jin.” You beg as he smiles and swipes your arousal on his finger and pops it in his mouth.

You watch him suck his index finger and wink at you and you are pretty sure you have acceded and gone to heaven.

Once he cleans his finger he grabs your hips to angle them backwards and grabs a bath towel to kneel on.

You step back to give him some room to kneel in front of you and grip onto the counter for support.

“I told you I wanted you to watch yourself cum. Your eyes close. I stop.” He says as he presses warm kisses up your thighs and you spread your legs wide.

He doesn't give you a chance to answer as he dives right in and starts to lick at your pussy.

You groan and try your best to keep your eyes open as he licks and sucks at your clit, making pleasure shoot through your veins and your legs shake.

His hands come around to grab at your ass and push your pussy onto his face and you struggle to stay upright when he switches between long strokes and quick ones.

“Eyes open love.” He reminds you before diving right back in.

His hands are kneading your ass and trying to hold you steady as you are a mess of moans above him. Everything feels so sensitive and so good and you know you aren't going to last as long as you would like to.

His tongue circles your clit and your hand reaches down to card though his feather-soft hair. His eyes lock on yours and he dares to wink at you as he eats you out with such precision you are sure your neighbors are going to put in a noise complaint.

You feel the coil of pleasure getting tighter and you try to hold off. You try to savor it as much as possible and not cum on his tongue after only a short while of him eating you out.

But of course, Jin is not having any of that and he pulls his tongue away and quickly replaces it with his long fingers.

One finger enters you and you feel your eyes flutter closed at the sensation.

You snap your eyes open when he delivers a harsh slap to your thigh and you stare down at him in shock.

“I only had one rule princess. Come on now keep those pretty eyes open for me. Watch how good I make you feel.” He demands as you steel yourself and try your best to keep your eyes locked on your reflection.

Something about watching yourself get pleasured is super erotic. You've never watched yourself have sex but seeing your nipples tighten, seeing how your body shakes when he curls a finger deep inside and adds his mouth to your clit which has you moaning and grinding your pussy on his face is super erotic and bringing you close to release.

“Jin. Fuck. Close. So close.” You cry out as your hands tangle in his hair and he adds in another finger and begins to scissor them, stretching you out as his tongue laps at everything your body is giving him.

Your toes curl against the tile floor and you cry out his name as you cum. You arch your pussy into his face and try your best to keep your eyes open as you ride out your high.

One hand is gripping his hair the other is gripping the sink and your legs shake uncontrollably when you realize he is not stopping.

“Jin.” You pant out, voice shaky and fucked out as he removes his hands but is still lapping at your clit at lightning speed.

“Too-mu-much Jin, please. Fuck.” You beg out as you stare at him in awe. He is not stopping and you can already feel the overstimulation take over as your legs shake violently.

You are on fire and you try warning him that it's too much. That you cannot handle another orgasm but the words are punched out of you when another orgasm steamrolls its way through your body.

Your eyes close as you ride his face and he pulls you even closer to him as he laps and sucks at your dripping core, cleaning up all of your desire.

Your hand leaves his hair to grip at the counter for dear life and you slump down pressing your naked torso against it and try your best to calm your breathing.

Your legs are shaky and unstable as Jin gets up from the floor to hold you steady as you come down from your high.

Once you feel stable you open your eyes to peer at him and you whine when you see your arousal coating his plump pink lips. He grins at you and releases your body as he works his belt open and pulls his pants down.

His boxers are dark blue but you can still see a pre-cum stain on the front as he pulls them down and lets his hard cock slap up against his abdomen.

“You gotta. You gotta give me a minute.” You pant out as you watch his hand circle his cock and lazily pump it.

“That was so hot.” He said as he continued to pump his cock and watch you through the mirror.

His hair was sweaty and pushed back, his eyes were wide and dark with arousal and his lips were pink and glossy from your cum.

And his cock

God his cock.

Standing hard and proud in his hand as he jerked himself slowly, thumb flicking over the head to smear pre-cum down the shaft.

He was beautiful.

“Gotta warn a girl before you make her cum twice.” You tease as he comes to stand next to you and you swat his hand away.

You circle his cock with your own hand and copy the movements he was doing earlier.

His dark eyes flutter closed when you rub your thumb over the slit and you squeeze his cock a little harder which has him groaning.

“Keep your eyes open Jin. Don't you wanna see how pretty you look when you cum?” You tease as his eyes open and he glares at you through the mirror.

“Smart mouth huh? I should put it to good use and shut you up.” He utters which has you pumping his cock harder.

“I mean if you want me to suck your cock you could just ask. Use your words.” You mock as he swats your hand away and steps behind you, pressing his hard cock against your ass.

“I'd rather cum in your pussy than cum in your mouth.” He says.

“Then do it.” You goad as you arch back pushing your ass into his cock teasingly.

Just as he is about to reach for his pants you move to the side to slide open the cupboard that is above your toilet. Mostly it has medicine and some everyday makeup products but you also keep condoms in there just in case.

His eyebrows raise in surprise when you hand him the foil packet and he opens it and rolls the condom down his hard cock with ease.

He positions the tip of his cock at your entrance and you whine as he runs it up and down your slit.

“Jin don't tease.” You beg as his free hand comes up to squeeze at your breast again.

He doesn't respond, instead, he continues to tease at your slit with the head of his cock, soaking it in your juices and making you whine and push your hips back, trying to get him to enter you.

“Jin I swear to god.” You threaten as he laughs at your impatience and finally slips himself inside.

The stretch is tight and he takes his time inching into you until his torso is flush against your back and you both are panting hard, staring at your reflections.

“Fuck Jin.” You whine as you bow forward head hanging low as you take deep breaths to try to calm down the sting.

Slowly he brings a hand up to your left shoulder and pushes on it so you are forced to lean back into his body, your head thrown back so it rests on his shoulder as you open your eyes to see him staring at you in absolute awe.

“Relax around me, princess. That's it.” He praises you as he draws patterns on your bare skin and kisses your shoulders.

“God you are so beautiful. Keep those eyes open for me. Want you to see how good you look when you take my cock.” He mutters as you very slowly start to push back on his cock to move him inside of you.

“And you're....fuck... Jin.” You moan out as he starts to shallowly thrust inside of you. His hands come to rest on your hips for support as he takes his time with you, letting you adjust to his cock.

“Handsome? Yeah, I know.” He teases with a sly grin as you roll your eyes at him.

“Is that why you wanted to fuck in front of a mirror. So you could stare at yourself?” You say as you shoot your hips back to keep in time with his shallow thrusts.

“Nah I wanted to stare at you. My reflection is just an added bonus.” He responds as you smack his arm and laugh.

“There you go princess your relaxing against me.” He says as his thrusts start to pick up the pace and you whine and feel your eyes start to roll in the back of your head.

“Jin. Please just fuck me.” You beg out feeling the uncomfortable stretch be replaced by slow delicious pleasure.

He looks at you in the mirror and you nod before he grips your hips and fucks up into you.

You whine out as he starts to build at a steady pace. The sound of slapping skin echoes in the bathroom and you push back in time to meet his thrusts.

“God your pussy is so good.” He grits out as he angles his hips and hits that spot inside of you that has you crying out his name and fluttering your eyes closed at the sensation.

“Eyes open love.” He demands that it takes everything in you to open your eyes and stare at yourself in the mirror.

His cock is fucking into you and hitting your g-spot with every thrust. It's not long before you feel the coil of pleasure starts to build again. Your hand grips the counter and you can see the faint blush on your chest and cheeks as he fucks up into you.

Jin looks so beautiful behind you. His body is covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair is pushed back from his forehead. His lips are bitten in concentration and his hands are holding your hips roughly as he picks the pace.

“Fuck.” You cry out when you feel his free hand come down to smack your ass. He starts to fuck into you harder spurred on by your moans and whines.

“Please Jin fuck.” You cry out not even sure what you are begging for as you feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

He must understand because one arm wraps around your chest and pulls you back into him so your bodies are flushed together once more, and the other hand snakes down between your legs to find your clit.

You cry out when he circles your clit with his skilled fingers and you are grateful he is holding you tight against him because you are so sure if you were to stand on your own you would fall to the floor.

“God baby you're squeezing me so tight. Gonna cum soon? Cum around my cock like a good princess?” He asks as you cry out and feel arousal shoot through your body at an alarming pace.

Your body is on fire with need and when he pinches your clit between two deft fingers you lose it. You throw your head back and cry out his name as you cum around his hard cock. You try your best to keep your eyes open and watch as you come undone around him.

Sweet whines and moans fall from your lips as he continues to pump inside you as your walls flutter around his cock and squeeze him.

“C-Close.” He groans out and you can hardly hear him over the blood pounding in your ears he grabs your hips and starts to fuck up into you at a wild pace which has you moaning and whining his name, not long after you feel him twitch inside of you and cum hard inside the condom.

The feeling alone has your toes curling against the floor and you gasping as Jin rides out his high with his face pushed into your back and small pants and whines leaving his plush parted lips.

How long you both stood there you weren't sure, his arms were still wrapped around you holding you upright and the room reeked of sex and desire as you both waited for your breathing to even out.

After a short while he pulled his already softening cock out of you and disposed of the condom in your garbage pail.

You stared at him through the reflection and smiled shyly as you both reached for your clothes.

You dressed in silence letting the euphoria wash over you both and once you were dressed you were walking him to the door.

He put on his shoes and grabbed his coat and you smiled up at him. He pulled you in for a soft and slow kiss which had your heart once again racing.

Gone was the fiery need and desire and instead this kiss was slow and sweet. He took his time exploring your lips as if it was the first time you both were kissing and that thought alone had you smiling against his mouth.

He pulled away and grinned down at you, a cute pink flush covering his cheeks.

“Thank you for dinner.” You said to him softly.

“Thank you for...well thank you. That was...wow.” He replied running a hand through his hair and pressing another kiss to your cheek.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as he pulled away and he smiled at you.

“That's my ride the driver must already be here.” He said softly.

You nodded as he gave you another soft kiss and promised to text you again.

When you woke up the next morning you were convinced the whole thing was a dream, the only proof of it happening was the ache between your legs and the dress that was pooled on your bedroom floor because, after your night with Jin, you were too tired to properly hang it up.

You got ready for work and just as you were about to leave someone knocked on your door.

Confused you answered it to see the mailman standing there with a package for you to sign. It was a box, a large box.

“I didn't order anything?” You said in absolute confusion as the man double-checked the address and handed you the box.

You closed the door and set it down on the counter. You grabbed for the kitchen scissors to open the box and when you did you laughed in surprise.

The box was full, and I mean full of RJ memorabilia.

A note was taped to the top of the box which made you shake your head and grin.

Found something better to replace that tata on your couch. Thank you for last night- Jin.

Tag List

@take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d

@m00njinnie

@minghaosimp

#Kim seokjin #jin #seokjin smut #jin smut #bts smut #jinxreader smut #jin/reader smut #jinxreader #jin/reader

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stop-talking · 2 months

Text

So I'm stuck on this shithole island, and I can't even have a smoke? (pt. 5)

Derek Danforth x fem reader

Word count: 4k

Tags: 18+, Derek x fem reader, no use of y/n, angst, lots of fluff, enemies, enemies to lovers, fluff, (very) slowburn, sass, banter, misogynistic undertones, (Derek is a prick), suggestive themes, mentions of drug use, withdrawals, rehab, masturbating.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

To celebrate a week of sobriety, you decide to surprise Derek with a cake.

Of course, since there isn't exactly a bakery on a remote island, you had to bake it yourself.

Which you did. Last night. Now you stand in the kitchen, wondering how exactly you should decorate the damn thing.

And what to write on it?

"Congrats, maybe now you'll live past 40!" No, that's morbid.

"Bye-bye blunts and blow!" Too cringy.

"Happy one-week?" Hmm... that sounds like an anniversary thing.

Damnit. Maybe this isn't a situation that calls for cake after all. You sigh and continue to mumble random slogans to yourself as you slather the icing on nice and thick.

It looks a little messy, but you're not exactly a professional baker. Which is unfortunate, because that's probably exactly what he's used to. Oh well. It's the thought that counts, right?

You just want to show him how proud you are. He really has changed a lot over the past week, surprising you every day with how... normal he can be. When he wants to, at least.

Picking up a piping bag of green icing, you start placing decorative dollops around the edge of the cake. Some of them are a little lopsided, but it doesn't look too bad overall.

What now? You mindlessly lick some stray icing off your wrist and stare down at the gaping blank space in the middle of the cake.

Eventually, you settle on three words.

"Proud of you."

It's fitting. He has a lot to be proud of. Not just the sobriety stuff, but everything.

He's been picking up new skills every day. You smile as you tidy up the cake decorating mess strewn about the counter, thinking back to your first time cooking with Derek.

He'd been cocky and overconfident, and so utterly dumbfounded when that pancake met a splatter-y death on the stovetop.

And yet, he still got back up and tried again. After relentless pestering from you, obviously, but it still counted.

You stand back and survey your work. Cream colored icing, green lettering, and... okay, maybe the hearts were a bit much. Hopefully he didn't get the wrong idea. You're just... proud. That's all.

Now the only thing missing is Derek. He went upstairs an hour or so ago for a nap, mumbling something about a headache. Poor thing.

He's been so damn clingy lately, always touching you in some way or another. It seemed almost subconscious for him at times. A hand on your shoulder, his knee against yours, an arm around your waist... no matter what you were doing, he had to have physical contact.

You smile as you make your way upstairs to his room. Maybe today would be the day you finally give him a proper hug.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek is woken from his fitful sleep to the sound of you calling out his name.

Usually, that would be a welcome sound. You're always such a good distraction from his withdrawals.

But right now? He just wants to sleep. No, more than that. He wants to hibernate, to go into a goddamn coma and never have to wake up again.

"Can I have another twenty minutes?" He croaks, lifting his head from the mess of pillows to call out to you.

Apparently he can't, because he hears the door click open, and you peek your head in through the crack.

Derek just groans and buries his face back into the bed. His sheets and blankets are a tangled mess, and he's twisted himself into an awkward angle throughout his nap.

"Come on, It's been over an hour already." Derek can feel the bed shift as you take a seat on the edge.

"Well I'm still fuckin' exhausted." He mumbles into the pillow, not bothering to turn and look at you.

"Derek. You should know by now I'm not gonna let you rot in bed all day."

The almost sarcastic tone in your voice is what finally breaks him. This week has been hell, and you're just mocking him.

He hasn't only given up drugs this week, but all of his servants and staff as well. It was one thing to help you with cooking, but yesterday you'd made him do laundry. LAUNDRY. What the fuck did he look like? A maid?

"Fuck off." He grumbles a little louder, pushing your hand away as you reach to play with his hair.

His sour attitude apparently doesn't deter you any, because he can hear you laughing at him. Derek grits his teeth and finally sits up, glaring at you.

"You're really fucking annoying, you know that? Always pissing me off."

The words leave his mouth before he can really think them through, and when he sees your smile fall he immediately regrets them.

Unfortunately, he's too tired, sick, and stubborn to take it all back. Even while his heart drops into his stomach, he continues to glare daggers at you.

"Alright... twenty more minutes." With that, you slide off his bed and quickly make your way to the door.

Fuck. As soon as the door closes, Derek is left in darkness, in more ways than one.

His stomach twists into knots and he can feel his chest grow heavy. He tries to scramble after you, but gets caught in the tangle of blankets and ends up falling to the floor instead.

God damn it. Why does he always have to be such a fuck up? You aren't annoying. You're the only thing keeping him sane right now, and he goes and pushes you away.

He collapses on the floor, sighing at the feeling of the cold hardwood against his cheek. A few tears roll down his face, and he laughs bitterly as a thought crosses his mind.

Your thighs make a much better pillow than the floor.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Twenty minutes later, you knock at Derek's door once more. He mumbles something incomprehensible, and you take that as permission to enter.

The sight in front of you makes you pause. What the hell is he doing? You flip the lights on just to make sure your eyes aren't playing tricks on you.

They aren't.

Derek Danforth lies on the floor next to his bed, groaning and blinking up at the harsh overhead light.

"Looks real comfortable down there." You tease, setting the glass of water you brought him on his bedside table before joining him on the floor.

He refuses to look at you, throwing his arm over his eyes and groaning.

"You need to eat. And drink. I brought you some water."

Derek stays quiet as you sit next to him and place a hand on his shoulder. His lips are pressed into a tight line, and he's still hiding behind his arm.

"Why are you so goddamn nice?" He finally groans.

"We've already had that talk."

"Okay, then why are you so goddamn nice even when I'm being a prick?"

You move his arm away from his face, and he doesn't fight it. When you finally get a look at him, it's obvious he's been crying.

Derek Danforth. Crying on his bedroom floor. That's a sight.

A sight that really breaks your heart, actually. His watery eyes threaten to make yours overflow as well, so you quickly wipe away his tears with the hem of your shirt.

"You think I expect you to go through three weeks of rehab and not be a prick sometimes?"

Derek actually chuckles at that, and finally meets your gaze. He looks absolutely wrecked.

"I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know."

You scoot a little closer, and gently tug at him. He takes the hint, placing his head on your lap with his cheek against your thigh.

Neither of you talk for a few minutes. He just closes his eyes and sighs as you play with his hair. Over the past week, you've learned what he likes. Tug at his curls in just the right way, and he...

Derek lets out a soft whimper and you smile. There it is.

"Wanna make it up to me?" You tease.

He glances up at you, an eager look in his eyes.

"How?"

"Get rid of this." You laugh and trail a finger along his jawline, feeling at his overgrown stubble. He most likely hasn't shaved since arriving here a week ago.

"What? You don't like it?"

"Do you?"

"..."

Derek pouts, pushing your hand away and feeling at it himself. His brow furrows adorably as he considers your words.

"It looks manly."

"There's a difference between manly and cave-man-ly."

He scoffs at that, but when you start poking and prodding at his face where his stubble has grown out, he cracks a smile.

"Fine, fine. You win. I'll shave."

He swats your intrusive hands away, then sits up and stretches.

Now that he's up and moving, you decide it's time to go. On your way out the door, you hesitate, remembering the reason you came to get him in the first place.

"Oh, don't take too long. I have a surprise waiting for you downstairs."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, feeling at his stubble. You're right, he does look better with a trim.

He knows he should head downstairs, but his heart is beating a million times a second, and not even from withdrawals.

That little comment about a surprise? God damnit. You're teasing him. You have to be. How could you say something like that and not expect him to get excited?

Derek sighs and tucks his boner into the waistband of his boxers, then looks at himself in the mirror one more time to make sure it isn't noticeable. It's not... mostly.

Damnit. He could probably take a few minutes and rub one out, but he'd absolutely die of embarrassment if you walked in on him AGAIN.

He groans and turns to leave. Oh well. It's hidden well enough, and you'd already seen worse. Plus... maybe if this surprise is anything like his fantasies, he'd have an opportunity to use it.

"Oh, wait wait wait!" You scramble over to him as he trudges downstairs, keeping him from entering the living room.

"Are you gonna tell me what my surprise is?"

"No! Then it wouldn't be a surprise at all. Close your eyes."

Derek does as instructed, shutting his eyes tight. When feels you grab his hand and start to tug him along, he can't help but sneak a peek.

"I swear... if your Idea of a surprise is to walk me into a wall-"

"Oh, shut it." You scoff and clap your free hand over his eyes.

"Just trust me. And no peeking."

Derek grumbles, but he does trust you. A lot more than he lets on. So, he blindly stumbles along as you lead him into the... kitchen? Yeah, he's pretty sure he's in the kitchen.

"Okay, you can look." You uncover his eyes, but keep a tight hold on his hand as you beam at him.

"What do you think?"

What does he think?

Derek chokes up at the sight before him, and has to turn his head so you don't see the way his eyes are watering again.

A cake. You baked him a fucking cake to say you're proud of him. And he called you annoying.

"It's to celebrate being a week sober." You explain, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of his face.

He squeezes your hand tightly, but can't get any words out.

"A week." He whispers, blinking back tears. Fuck, has it been a week already? It feels like hardly a day has passed.

"Oh, love. C'mere."

Derek lets himself be pulled into your arms. He groans from your touch, melting into the embrace and burying his face in your neck.

God, this is perfect. He's wanted to be held like this for so long, but now that it's finally happening... he can't help but feel guilty.

"I'm such an ass." He mumbles into your neck, lips pressed to your skin.

"Not always." You laugh softly and pull him a little closer.

Too close. He can feel your breasts pressing against him... fuck. Any closer and you might be able to feel what he has tucked away.

"Not always?" Derek scoffs, pulling back just enough to look you in the eyes.

"Is that really the best you've got to make me feel better?"

"What? You want me to lie?"

"Maybe."

He stares into your eyes, heart pounding in his chest as he suddenly realizes just how close you are. It takes everything in him not to lean in and bridge the few inch gap between the two of you.

"You look nice like this."

Derek can feel his face heating up as you cup his face with a hand. Shit, If you don't stop soon he might actually just kiss you.

"Like what?" He asks breathlessly, mesmerized by your touch.

"With a trim." You smile and run your thumb along his his stubble, eyes trailing from his jaw to his lips.

For a second, Derek is sure you're going to kiss him. He tilts his head ever so slightly in anticipation, and his eyes flutter shut.

"So... you want a piece of cake?" You clear your throat, suddenly dropping your arms and breaking the embrace.

Of course you weren't going to kiss him. Derek gives you a half-hearted smile and nods, trying to hide just how crushed he feels.

"Yeah, sure. Cake."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"No, love, you're supposed to do the edge pieces first."

You chuckle as Derek angrily fumbles with two puzzle pieces. They quite obviously don't match, but he's trying to force them together anyways.

"Sorry, I wasn't aware puzzles had rules." He scoffs, dramatically tossing the little cardboard chunks across the table.

You'd dragged him out to the porch for a little fresh air, since he insisted he was too tired to make the five minute walk down to the beach.

"Well, they do. The biggest rule is don't throw the puzzle pieces, or you'll lose them." You laugh and continue flipping pieces over so they're facing upwards.

It hasn't been very long since you started the puzzle, and Derek already looks bored.

"Is this supposed to be fun?" He grumbles, helping you flip over pieces with one hand, the other finding it's way to rest on top of yours.

You wonder if he even notices he's doing it again. Touching you like that. You've gotten used to it by now, and usually just let it happen.

"Oh, come on. You gonna let a puzzle get the best of you, Danforth? A child could do this."

Derek makes a face and gestures to the sea of little cardboard scraps scattered across the table.

"A child could do a one thousand piece puzzle?" He scoffs.

"Okay, maybe not..." You laugh and adjust your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"But I'm sure you can do it."

Derek's face flushes pink, and you aren't sure whether its from the praise or the way you're so casually holding his hand. Probably both. But so what if you're holding his hand? He's the one who started it.

He just mumbles something under his breath and looks back down at the table, suddenly very motivated to help you pick through the pieces.

His hand doesn't leave yours.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek wakes up from a deep sleep to the sound of your voice and the feeling of your nails gently scratching his scalp.

He gasps and tries to sit up, but finds he's stuck.

Er, not stuck, just... underneath you?

"Come on, love. You slept through nearly the whole movie." You laugh softly and start to nudge him off your lap.

Derek finally remembers what's going on, and pulls his arm out from under you. Apparently he'd tucked it beneath your knees while he slept, because he sure didn't remember doing it.

"Told you a chick flick would put me to sleep." He mumbles, fumbling to sit up. He finds his other arm is also stuck, wedged in between your waist and the couch.

"Sure made yourself comfortable, huh?" You tease, scooting forward and freeing him.

"Shut up." Derek reluctantly pulls away from you, sitting up and looking at you with a dazed expression. He wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth and groans. That really was a good nap.

"It's just so easy to fall asleep on you." The words come out before he can really think over them, and he freezes in embarrassment. Thankfully, you seem to take it in a different way than he meant it.

"Oh, am I that boring? I put you to sleep?"

"Exactly. I'm yawning already." He teases, letting out an exaggerated yawn that only earns him an elbow to the ribs.

"Hmph. Next time you can fall asleep somewhere else."

"But you're so damn comfortable." He whines, scrambling after you as you make your way upstairs. You can't leave him yet. You just can't.

"Well, your bed is plenty comfortable as well. Go to sleep."

Derek is suddenly struck with a thought, and takes your hand before you can slip away into your room for the night.

"What if..." He starts, placing his other hand on your hip and pulling you a little closer.

"What if I don't want to sleep in my bed tonight?"

You give him an incredulous look, and Derek can hardly believe the words that just came out of his mouth. Fuck, you're going to reject him. He just knows it.

"My bed?" You ask, raising an eyebrow and looking down at the way his hand is gripping your hip.

Derek can hear his heart pounding in his ears. He's being WAY too forward, and probably seems like a creep. Damnit.

"I... I just won't be able to sleep without you. I know it." He stutters, stumbling over his words. It's the truth, though. The only time he's been able to sleep peacefully lately is when he's touching you.

"Derek, love..." You chuckle and start to brush his hands away, taking a step back.

Fuck. He needs to show you how serious he is about this.

"Please? Just for tonight?" He grabs both of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his as he meets your gaze. You said he has puppy-eyes or something, right? Derek does his best to look pitiful.

It's not hard to do. He really does feel pitiful in this moment, begging you so blatantly. He might as well get on his fucking knees.

"Fine." You finally relent, groaning and gently shoving Derek aside as you head into your bedroom.

"But I hope you know I kick in my sleep."

"I don't mind taking that risk."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

After quickly getting ready for bed, you settle down under the covers while Derek stands awkwardly to the side.

"Well? You gonna join me?" You ask, patting the spot next to you.

God, how did you get roped into this? Him and those damn puppy eyes. He's so hard to say no to.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Derek scrambles to climb into bed beside you. He looks like he's having just as much trouble believing what's happening.

"Sleeping with you wasn't really in my job description, you know. I'm complaining to your mother after this."

"Please don't." He groans, squirming and getting comfortable under the shared blanket. He keeps his distance, seeming content just to be in the same bed as you.

"You gonna sleep in that?" You lift the blanket to peek at his outfit, a simple t-shirt and sweatpants.

"Yeah? What's wrong with it?" He pouts and tugs the blanket back down, acting self-conscious.

"Nothing, just... You aren't going to be hot?"

"Are you trying to get me to take my pants off, sweetheart?"

"God, no. I've seen enough of that."

Your teasing clearly gets to him, because he rolls over to face away from you, grumbling. You swear his ears are a little pink. Is he blushing?

"Oh, love. I'm just messing with you." You scoot a little closer to him, and put a hand on his waist.

"I know." He whispers, breath hitched.

"Is it okay if I do this?"

He groans when you get even closer, spooning him from behind. Your arm wraps around his waist and you press your entire body against his.

"M-maybe I will get hot..." He mumbles, but makes no effort to push you away. Instead, he completely melts under your touch, relaxing against the pillow.

"Keep your pants on, Danforth."

"Yes ma'am."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Derek has been in bed with you for what feels like hours, (though really only around half of one), and he still can't believe what's happening.

Your arm is around his waist, holding him tight while the rest of your body is pressed up against him. He can feel your breasts pressing into his back, and your lips on his neck.

He almost wishes you'd kiss him, but that would probably send him over the edge.

And God, is he dangerously close to the edge right now.

His heart is pounding, heartbeat in synch with the throbbing in his pants. He's been hard ever since you cuddled up to him, but no way in hell is he going to ask you to stop. Not ever. Even if it kills him.

Scratch that. It is going to kill him. Derek can't help but let out a whimper as his dick twitches in his sweatpants.

Fuck. Your hand is right there, on his stomach. If you'd just slide it down a little...

"What's wrong?" You mumble, giving him a tight squeeze and nuzzling against the back of his neck.

"O-oh. Just... headache... Don't feel good..."

He feels like a total prick for lying to you, but what is he supposed to say? Yeah, totally fine, just horny as fuck? He'd rather die.

"Aww... I've got you, love."

Derek's breath hitches as you throw your leg over him. He can feel your thigh pressed up against his side, and the way you squeeze him feels heavenly.

He whimpers again, and starts to squirm slightly in your grasp. Fuck, if you keep this up he's not going to be able to control himself.

You continue to gently squeeze, rub, and cuddle him, whispering words of comfort with your lips pressed against the back of his neck. He can feel your hot breath on him, your breasts against his back, your hand on his stomach, your leg wrapped around his...

He can feel everything. And it's driving him insane.

Okay, okay, fuck. He can fix this. He just needs a quick release. That's all.

Derek starts to form a plan in his head, fueled by desperation and lust. Once he's mostly sure you're asleep, he slips his hand down into his boxers.

Biting back a moan, he slowly starts to jerk himself off. Painfully slow. He can't risk waking you up.

It's so fucking hard to not go faster, or move, or make a sound. Fuck, it's just so hard. Period.

He didn't really think this through, huh? Asking to sleep in your bed. Next time he'll jerk off first. If there is a next time. Damnit. If you catch him like this, you'll never speak to him again. He's sure.

Trembling, he accidentally lets a small whine slip out. Even with the absolute minimum amount of stimulation, he's close to finishing.

"Hnngh... Derek? You okay?"

Fuck. You're awake.

"Huh? Yeah, just... nightmare..." He chokes the words out, hand still wrapped around his cock as he slowly milks out a steady trickle of precum.

"It's okay." You whisper, holding him even tighter. "I'm right here."

Yeah, and that's the his damn problem. Your words and touch send him spiraling over the edge, and he bites his lip with nearly enough force to draw blood as he comes in his sweatpants.

It's not the most satisfying orgasm, seeing as he could barely touch it... but it still feels so much better than being that fucking horny with no release.

"Thank you..." Derek groans, praying that you don't ever discover the double meaning behind his words.

He had originally planned to sneak away and clean himself up, but with the way you're clinging to him...

Fuck. Guess he's sleeping in wet sweatpants.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: Oh my goddd, sorry for such a long wait on this chapter!!! I've been wanting to write this scene FOREVER, but I also wanted to get it right!!

I love putting Derek in uncomfortable situations. Not sorry.

Also its crazy to me that I've written 16 thousand words of fanfic for a character that had 20 minutes of screen time and then fucking DIED 💀

Anyways... expect the next chapter in 2-3 days. Thanks for all the love and support!!!

Part 6

#josh hutcherson #jhutch #jhutch1992 #derek danforth #josh hutcherson x reader #derek danforth x reader #josh hutcherson x you #derek danforth x you #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #fluff and angst #slowburn fic

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nebulaafterdark · 1 year

Text

More Than Anyone Pt.2

Aegon x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

18+ ONLY

Summary: Last night Aegon and his wife fucked in a pleasure house, the Queen is livid.

Warnings: Targcest, porn with plot.

Part 1

When Alicent receives word that Aegon had found his way back to the silk streets, after weeks of reprieve, she is livid. Reports of his indecency with a woman resembling the Princess Y/N have spread throughout the Red Keep.

Then again, the poor girls always did look like Y/N. Perhaps that was love to Aegon, searching for her in everyone else.

The Queen reaches her eldest son’s quarters, barging through the common room to his bed chamber. She’s greeted with Aegon, spread about the bed. Y/N’s dark hair fanned over his chest as she lies against his beating heart. Aegon’s fingers twisted loosely in it, keeping her close. Perhaps that is love to Aegon.

Alicent reaches out a hand wiggling her son’s foot none too gently.

“Mmm.” He stirs, nuzzling into the crown of Y/N’s head. “My dearest love, Papa must sleep a while longer. Where are your maids, hmm?”

“Aegon,” Alicent hisses.

The man jumps at the sound of her voice, moving his wife’s head to the pillow beside him and standing. Still in his night clothes, hair disheveled from the hours before. “Mother?”

“How could you do this?” She begins scolding him, without preamble. “I thought you’d stopped this, I thought you wanted to do better. What about your wife?”

“I love my wife.” He says, immediately on defense.

“Fucking in a pleasure house while Y/N sits home with your children is one offense. But to have relations…in front of all those people; calling out her name and telling another woman you wish she bear your children is perverse! That is not love, Aegon.”

“I have made mistakes, I know them well. But I have not done what you accuse me of, I have never called anyone by her name. I only wish to see her with my child. She knows this to be true.”

“Then how-” Alicent breaks off, looking down to the Princess. Resting so sweetly against the mattress. “No.” The realization dawns on her.

“I know you do not understand it, mother. Y/N has always been accepting of my…interests. I failed to realize that these relations upset her so,” Aegon trails off. “She was there and she was crying. You know how I hate it when she is upset.”

Alicent sighs.

“I should have brought her home, I will not deny this. But I love her, I don’t not care who knows it. I am not ashamed.” He’d fuck her in front of the seven, if Y/N so willed it.

“She is Rhaenyra’s heir, your future Queen. You cannot sully her name.”

Aegon swallows down his guilt. “She is of high status, I cannot behave with her as if we are not.”

“What were you thinking, Aegon?” Alicent wonders, hoping to make sense of it.

Aegon shakes his head, as if to clear it. “There was no duty in it, only love.”

“You mustn’t allow this to happen again.” Alicent insists, “as your mother, I am glad that you have found happiness. I will quiet these whispers, but you must behave in a manner befitting your stations.”

“I understand,” Aegon nods.

Alicent pats his cheek gently, stealing another glance at Rhaenyra’s daughter. Unable to scrub the image of what Aegon did to the poor thing from her mind. “Perhaps the Maester should have a look at her.”

“I did not harm her, mother.” Never her.

“Of course,” Alicent nods, making to exit. “She must wake soon to prepare herself for Lucerys petition.”

Aegon flops onto the bed, puffing a long breath past his lips as he hears the doors close behind the Queen.

Y/N is still fast asleep, long dark locks flowing about her, perfect lips parted, completely content. She will make a fine Queen, brave and true. Dedicated to fairness and justice. She will work to better the Kingdom, for Aegon, for their children and their children’s children. She had told him this once, in the beginning.

“And what will you command of me, my Queen.” He asked, kissing the delicate pads of her fingers.

Y/N smiled, placing her free hand on her belly, great with his child. “I command you to love me forever.”

Aegon smiles, tracing the delicate planes of her face. Down the slope of her nose that she loves to nuzzle against his. The sweetest affection he’s ever known. It drives him mad at times, to love another person so much.

Aegon inches closer, peppering kisses to the skin of her shoulder. “My love.”

“Hmm?” Her dark brows lift in acknowledgement, though her eyes remain shut.

“We must ready for the petition.”

She yawns, rolling onto her back and stretching both arms up above her head. “I was having the most wonderful dream.”

“What about?” Aegon inquires.

“Can’t say aloud or it won’t come true.”

“Are you sure?”

Y/N nods, “my mother told me so.”

“I’ll have to take your word.”

Y/N hisses as she moves to sit, the soreness in her little cunt has Aegon’s cock twitching to life. He had been there, shoved every inch of himself into her and spilled his seed.

Laying a hand against the warm skin of her lower abdomen. “Boy or girl?”

It is a silly game, one they’ve played each time they tried for a babe. They have been wrong with their guesses on all three counts.

“Boy,” Y/N decides. Toying with his fingers.

“Girl.” Aegon counters. “Twins.”

“Gods no. Never again.” Their first term was twins, two perfect little girls. “Surely you do not hate me so terribly.”

“Wouldn’t you rather get it all over with at once?”

Y/N pouts at her husband, “no.”

“Forgive me for assuming.” Aegon chuckles, removing himself from the bed.

“I need to ask you something, dear husband.” Y/N murmurs, tossing her legs over the side of their bed; making to stand.

“Speak it,” Aegon nods. Unceremoniously removing his sleep clothes, striding about their chambers nude, to reach his tunic and breeches.

“Where do you stand on the matter of Lucerys inheritance?”

“Me?” Aegon scoffs, “you want to know where I stand in matters of the court?” He has little importance there, until Y/N is acting Queen anyway.

“As my future King consort, it is your duty to be privy to all matters of the realm.”

“My love…”

“You don’t think Driftmark is his birthright?”

Aegon sighs, passing a hand over his face. “I would rather bash my skull between the throne room doors than follow this line of questioning.”

“Tell me why?”

“You know why.” Aegon snaps, “I will never speak it. I swear on all my love for you, you and your brothers have my fealty. I will not betray you. Please do not make me say it.”

Y/N nods, crossing both arms over her chest “very well.”

“I’m going to bid the children good morrow, I’ll send your maid to help you dress.” Aegon presses a kiss to her cheek in parting.

Y/N wants to catch the hand that so sweetly cups her face as he does, but she lets him pull away instead. Swallowing down her pride. She does love Aegon. Fiercely, deeply, to her very bones.

“Good morrow, Princess.” Her handmaiden, Ania, greets her.

“Good morrow.” Y/N chokes out, carrying on as if nothing has happened.

————————————————————————

Queen Alicent and her father, the Hand, were supposed to over see the Driftmark petition. However King Viserys has come to sit the Iron Throne. This does not stop the Seasnake’s brother from his outburst.

“Her children are BASTARDS!” Vaemond unleashes a mighty roar, directed at Rhaenyra, “and she is a whore.”

Aegon reaches an arm across his wife. Y/N’s fingers curling around his forearm.

Daemon puts an end to it before the King has a chance to make good on his promise to take Vaemond’s tongue. The top severed portion of his head tumbles to the ground, before the rest of his body falls.

“He can keep his tongue.” Daemon scoffs, returning to his wife and children.

Before the Princess can choke it down, she is wretching, tossing the contents of her morning meal onto the floor.

Aegon moves quickly to action, holding dark hair away from her face.

“Oh, darling,” Rhaenyra rushes to her daughter.

“I apologize, Mother.” She then looks to her grandsire, “your Grace.”

“All is forgiven, dear one.” Viserys tells her. “This matter is settled. Lucerys Velaryon is the next Lord of The Tides. As this meeting is adjourned, you may excuse yourself.”

Y/N bows her head once more before taking leave.

“I’ll walk with you to your chambers.” Rhaenyra fusses about her daughter, as though she is still a child.

“No, Mama,” Y/N shakes her head. “I am a woman grown.”

“And dark scales for the tiny dragon.” Helaena mutters, under her breath. More speaking aloud than to anyone in particular.

“You are my child, I must fuss.” Rhaenyra jests, with a kind smile.

“I can take her, sister.” Aegon offers, “your presence is surely needed elsewhere. I will see to my wife.”

Rhaenyra nods, straightening her stance. “Very well. Thank you, Aegon.”

Aegon returns the gesture, escorting his bride back to their apartments to rest. Helping her out of her dress to her small clothes, wiping from her any remnant of the incident and settling her beneath the coverlet.

“I don’t know what happened.” Y/N remarks, suddenly exhausted from her efforts.

“You were quite emotional last night.”

“Was I?”

“You followed me to a pleasure house in tears, because you’d gotten it in your head that I did not love you anymore. I may be an imbecile, but my carryings on have never caused you upset.”

Y/N’s eyes flicker about his face. “It didn’t bother me for a long while. Then I was just…overcome with love for you.”

“You were overcome?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Yes.” Y/N rolls her eyes, “I’ve come to understand that I don’t want you running off to bury parts of yourself in other people. I want you to share them with me. I want all of you, Aegon.”

Aegon feels tears well up in his eyes. “I want to give you only the best parts. Not the fucked up bits that shattered off as the world so cruelly shaped me.”

“There is no piece of you that I could not love.”

Aegon rest his forehead against hers. “You are all I want.”

Y/N nods, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I am pleased to hear you say this, Aegon.”

“I- you must understand that I’ve never had anyone care so much for me before.”

“You did not realize I cared until now?” Y/N is sent reeling at this.

“Not the way I care for you.”

The Princess opens her mouth to speak but Aegon silences her with a finger to her plush lips.

“I was mistaken. You care very deeply for me and I do not take such love for granted. Though it still frightens me, I cannot run from this. For you are one half of me.”

Y/N tries to speak again.

“All of which to say, I don’t believe you are sick.” Aegon smirks, “I believe you are with child.”

“I couldn’t be.”

Aegon arches a brow, “When is the last time you’ve bled?”

Y/N’s eyes shift, trying to recount. “A month passed, maybe two.”

Aegon hums, bringing his hands up to her breasts, squeezing lightly.

Y/N gasps, batting at her husband.

“This is for research only, my darling.” Aegon assures her.

Y/N lets out a laugh, “surely that is your motivation.”

“They are sensitive, are they not?” Aegon muses.

She whines as he flicks her nipples.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He pulls himself away.

“Don’t start what you don’t intend to finish, Aegon.” She warns.

“Wanton, little thing. Aren’t you?”

“It is you who hath made me this way, my love.” Y/N reminds him, “spoiled me rotten.”

“Can’t very well let my sweet girl go without.” Aegon reasons, “tell me, what do you want?”

“I want you inside me. Whispering perverse desires against my ear so that I might provide them to you.”

Aegon draws in a breath, “I would love nothing more.”

Their coupling is much slower, softer than the night before. Sweet as tea laced with sugar and fine honey.

His body fits in hers like it was made to be there. Y/N allows her eyes to close, as she often does, in the throes of passion. Aegon’s remain open, taking in every inch of his wife. Memorizing the slack of her jaw as she whimpers into the open air.

The furrow of her brow as he rocks against her faster. The way her breasts bounce with his movements. “When these fill with milk, I will drink from them.”

Y/N lets out a sigh, pulling him closer. Fisting a hand in his hair as it rests in the crook of her neck.

“Would you like that?”

“Yes.”

“One of these days I’m going to claim your little ass, after I paint it the most beautiful maroon, with the palm of my hand.”

Y/N’s nose scrunches up, “you would strike me?”

“With love, just love taps.” Aegon assures her.

“What if it hurts too much?”

“Pain lingers on the cusp of pleasure. I will help you take it. I will make it good for you.” He kisses the side of her face. “You’ll be good for me, won’t you?” Lifting one hand and bringing it down on the outside of her thigh, then soothing with his touch.

“I want to be good.” She breathes, working her hips up to meet his.

“You are good.” Aegon coos, nuzzling her cheek with his own. “My good, sweet, pretty girl.” He takes his time, building her slowly to her peak. “I love you.”

“I love you more than anyone.”

Part 3

#hotd smut #house of the dragon #aegon smut #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd aegon #aegon ii #aegon the elder

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leviathanspain · 5 months

Note

part 2 of i wanna be your please 😭 i need to know they’re together 😭

just wanna be yours

carmy berzatto x reader

part 2 to i wanna be yours

synopsis: men being men.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it all happened so fast.

the restaurant had been closed for the night, everyone but carmy and richie had left, even you after you had tried to quit. claire had made it in by knocking on the window, catchin richie’s attention as he counted the drawer.

“claire.” he greeted her, slightly distracted, “cousin’s in the back.” he signaled to the kitchen and claire passed through, finding the office door wide open, only seeing the yellowing light’s reflection.

“carm?” she called out, and heard some rustling in dry storage. she neared it and found carmen frantically counting the inventory.

claire laughed slightly, “isn’t that someone else’s job? i’ve been waiting for you to get off for almost an hour, i called you so many times earlier-“

carm blinked, “yeah, i saw.” he rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on his count.

claire scoffed, “you saw them and didn’t pick up? why are you even doing this, it’s someone else’s job, carmy-“

it was like something had finally clicked, “i know it’s someone else’s job, claire! it’s y/n’s job but she tried to quit and i told her no so i’m doing it because i felt bad!” he shouted, clearly frustrated with claire yapping at him.

he was met with utter silence.

claire stared at him in disbelief, “she tried to quit and you didn’t let her?” she repeated his words and carmy nodded, “why, carm? because she doesn’t remember being rude to me and suddenly i’m the bad guy?” claire had remembered their argument from before, where carmy confronted her tales to be lies.

carmy shook his head, “no it’s not that.” he scoffed, and claire laughed, “what else could it be then? hmm?”

carmy shrugged, unable to believe what he was about to say, “i like her. i like having her around, i like who i become when she’s working. im sorry if i don’t want one of my employees to quit.” he threw in that last sentence in hopes to save himself but claire saw right through him.

“you didn’t even hire her, carmy.” but she didn’t linger to argue, taking in her defeat as she strode past him to exit through the back.

carmy blew out a breath of air as he continued his count, repeating the number he had left on in his head as she spoke.

“carmen.” it was the end of another successful night. you had thought about talking to him, mulling it over with sydney who had encouraged you to talk to carmy, especially with what had happened last night.

carmy had been sitting outside, his pack of cigarettes slowly dwindling through the night. he could blame it on the stress of the restaurant, but he knew it had all to do with breaking up with claire that morning. he tossed and turned until the sun rose, in which he called her to break whatever it was off.

“y/n.” carmy turned to see you, scooting down the concrete step to make some room for you. you sat down, thanking him quietly. he offered you a cigarette but you shook your head, pausing before you spoke.

“did you figure out why you don’t want me to quit?” you smirked at him, a devious smirk as if you were sure he had a good reason. perhaps you were too valuable, too skilled…

“no.” there was something different about him. an air that you hadn’t noticed before.

you grazed his shoulder, “what’s wrong?” you should’ve asked him this earlier, clearly he had been off all night. he had messed up a few orders before they even went out.

carmy shrugged, “claire stopped by.” he whispered, and by the furrow in his brows, you could sense something was wrong.

“are you alright?” you didn’t know how to comfort him, youve never had a boyfriend so you couldn’t help through self experience.

he nodded, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, “yeah. yeah.” he sounded far away, as if he was thinking about something else as he spoke.

there had been a mutal silence between you, until you called his name. he stared at your face, as if taking in all your features. “i’m- imma start heading out.” you broke yourself out of every little thought involving carmy and your tongue, blinking as you stood up.

carmy nodded, not turning as he waved goodbye.

carmy stared at the ground. a week since he and claire had decided go on a break, and a week of cigarette conversations with you. you had picked up smoking, after spending so much time with him after a shift, it had become second nature.

“carmy.” he had gotten a little loud with you earlier, and he hadn’t expected you to talk to him at all, let alone come out here.

he stood up, turning as he found you outside with him. he sighed, “i’m so sorry about-“ he shook his head in shame, his hand balling into a fist of frustration. you put a hand on his chest, “don’t worry about it, carm.” you could feel the thumping of his heart, frantic and full of anxiety, “i forgive you.”

carmy leaned into your touch. his heart had stopped thumping so hard and now settled at a good resting rate. but your hand hadn’t left his chest, your eyes lingering on his face as your mind played out all your fantasies.

sydney spent the majority of her shift convincing you that carmy had a thing for you. you had denied it hard until you found yourself daydreaming about it. now he was all you could think about.

yet you couldn’t do it.

you wanted to kiss him, feel his body on top of yours, tasting his sweet taste.

but he was your boss.

and just a month ago, he hated you.

carmy couldn’t do it anymore. you were standing there, as if waiting for him to kiss you.

then he did it. he kissed you, and for a moment he got scared until you reciprocated his kiss. you leaned into him, feeling his hands wander your back, trailing dangerously low.

you bit his lip slightly, before tugging on a curl of his hair. pulling away, you stared at him with dilated eyes. but something settled in his eyes.

claire.

he was on a break, this would be okay. wouldn’t it?

you shivered as you could see thoughts fluttering in his mind. he looked mesmerized after that kiss, but now it was regret.

“i’m sorry.” he whispered, “y/n, i-“ you didn’t let him finish as you stormed off, not back into the kitchen to finish the rest of your shift.

you wouldn’t listen to his rejection, not after everything.

sydney hadn’t expected you to answer. she had tried calling you five times over the weekend, and monday morning had rolled around and you still hadn’t come back to work.

carmy was a mess. all the emotions over you and claire were building up, and he was a ticking time bomb. “i already called her like seven times, cousin! fuck you want me to do?!” he yelled at richie, letting the office door slam behind him.

sydney tore her eyes away from the scene and faced the locker room walls, “y/n.” she spoke your name into the phone, and was met with silence.

“uh-“ she laughed nervously, “i hope everything’s okay. did you quit or?” her question dropped off and you pursed your lips on the other end, wondering what yoj would say.

“no.” the first word came to mind before you could even process, “i just need time. im sorry.” you hung the phone up before she could even say anything.

carmy knew your address from all the times he had walked you home. he lived far from your house, but never once did he object to take you home.

after days of radio silence, and officially breaking up with claire, he knew he had to make it right. apparently you weren’t quitting, and that was his sign to beg you to forgive him.

the knock at your door was the first thing to alert you. you stood up cautiously, you lived in a sketchy part of chicago, and you never knew what lingered in your building. you checked the peephole and saw him, face bowed as he waited.

you sighed, knowing he would be unavoidable.

“carmen.” you opened the door, holding it as you stared at him. he looked beautiful, cheeks red from the cold, but his eyes were bluer than ever.

he looked up as you had said his name, “y/n. can i come in?” he looked past you and into your apartment. he had never seen the inside, always opting to drop you off.

you stepped aside and he walked in. there was a coldness that you exchanged, letting the door slam behind him. he turned around and you crossed your arms, standing firm by the door.

“i-“ he began, “sydney told me you aren’t quitting.” you laughed slightly, of course she told him.

“yeah, well.” you shrugged, “i just said that so she would stop calling. i still haven’t made up my mind.” you admitted, brushing your arms gently, “you came here to what? tell me directly to my face that kissing me was a mistake? because i got that message already.” you wouldn’t tell him how you cried until your chest heaved, or how your neighbor knocked on your door to check on you, after hearing your cries. he had destroyed you, and yet you couldn’t be happier to see him.

but you played the bitter part, knowing he was bad for you made you want him even more.

carmy shook his head, “it wasn’t a mistake, y/n. it opened my eyes and made me realize that i want to kiss you, every waking moment for the rest of my life.” he panted, hands shaking as he brought them up to brush his hair out of the way, “i-“ he laughed, “im sorry. please,” he walked closer to you, “come back.”

you stepped closer to him, bridging the gap as you pulled him into you, resting your head on his shoulder, you stayed silent.

a moment passed and his hand reached up to gently brush your hair, a repeating motion as you stood there with him.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy angst #carmy berzatto angst #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy fluff #carmy the bear #carmy x you #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #the bear #the bear angst #the bear smut #carmy smut

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voxisdaddy · 19 days

Note

Hello~! I hope you are having a wonderful day and I would like to humbly request a part 2 of the Velvette x reader break up seeing how reader is holding up.

Are they watching Hella Novelas as well? Do they regret the whole thing? I love Velvette and really want to see how this would be affecting both sides

-🎨 anon

Ice Cream

Pt 2

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Velvette x Reader

C/TW: cussing

Type: Headcanons + Drabble

In which we see from readers perspective on how they’re dealing with the break up.

Pt.1

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Opening up sinstagram, you scrolled past numerous posts on the discovery page. It seemed every other post was about your relationship with Velvette—hells most prominent fashionista and social media influencer. You huffed upon seeing another video of speculation on the status of your relationship.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You had deactivated your account long ago, a few hours after getting rid of all the remembrances of your previous relationship with the overlord. The memories were too much, and people speculating all the time was getting unbearable. You knew deactivation of your whole account might’ve been a bit too far, it most certainly had people talking, but you’ve seen this shit happen before;

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ High profile couple break up, people speculate, lots of talk and gossip, even months and years after it’s ended people will still talk, they’ll compare their new partners to their old partners, insist it’s a “right person, wrong time” type bullshit and just ugghhhh

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Do people have nothing better to do with their lives?” You’d ask yourself, liking a random post using your new account—a new and more anonymous account. You had made sure to keep it as less “HEY IM Y/N” as possible as to avoid any suspicions. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem to any other normal person. Though of course, your previous partner was no normal person and her associates were no normal folk either.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ it made you slightly paranoid at the thought that Vox could be aware of your new account—which was set to private—but considering he’s basically the king of tech, it wouldn’t surprise you that much if he had his ways. But it brought you some peace of mind that he probably doesn’t give a shit so he’d just leave you alone. Unless Velvette made him: then that’s an actual issue.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ You frowned when thinking of Velvette—getting slightly upset with yourself for thinking about her.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was hard not too though. You don’t just forget about someone who meant so much to you for so long, so quickly. Sometimes you wondered if you made the right choice. Did you regret it? Hmm…some days you did.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some days you’d wake up and turn to the side to see a face you grew familiar to seeing every morning—she wouldn’t be there. Oh yeah. Of course she wouldn’t.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Some nights you slept just fine, not missing a familiar presence next to you or wishing she was there at all.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was very strange. It’s still strange. It didn’t help that considering she’s fucking Velvette—she’s everywhere. Every app you open; oh Velvette or the Vee’s are top of trending? Shocker! Leave your place for a little while to do some shopping? Oh look on the billboards—it’s fucking Velvette. Dating a celebrity as big of a deal as Velvette you were aware would have some draw backs but at the time you never considered what the end of the relationship would be like. Cuz I mean like, who would think about the ending of a relationship with someone you really liked to even get into said relationship with anyways?

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Somedays you opened your closet and yours eyes would drift to the clothing that Velvette had gifted you. Designed, hand made, complete with a spritz of her signature perfume to mark her scent on it—her own way of claiming you. You quirked an eyebrow at the clothing. It’s been… several weeks. Months maybe? Who knows but…

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ “Can’t keep hanging onto this forever…” You mumbled, thumb circling on a corner of a shirt she made you. It be nearly impossible to move on if you kept onto these sorts of things. I mean, you suppose by now she’d probably move on…right? Velvette doesn’t get attached to most things so…she has to be over it now. Right?

The walk to the nearest thrift store was anything but simple.

Meaning you had to take the long and more dangerous way around, through random alleyways and parkouring your way about. Their was VoxTek cameras everywhere in Pentagram city so you tried to avoid those as much as possible since dumping Velvette. Out of… slight fear, if you’re being honest.

No one disrespects and humiliates the Vee’s, evident from the Vox and Alastor fiasco, so you were slightly paranoid what Velvette or her fellow Vee’s would do to you since you are the one who ended things. You’re the one who deleted evidence of your relationship with the overlord on your very public account—which you then deactivated which of course only got people talking even more. Fucking great!

“I’m a real genius getting everyone’s attention on us Vel, whoopy.” You muttered quietly to yourself, dodging a stray bullet in the process.

The thrift store was in sight now, and in a quick jogging distance. You stopped from your corner, looking around for any VoxTek camera. Surely Vox isn’t always watching, right? He’s the ceo of his stupid empire for fucks sake, he should be way too busy to be sitting around looking at a bunch of random ass citizens in Pride. You spotted several cameras, making you tense.

“Just act natural. Don’t fuck up.” You whispered to yourself, completely missing the quirked eyebrows of a couple of sinners next to you that you apparently didn’t notice.

Pacing your steps correctly, you tried to make it seem like you weren’t just obviously trynna avoid said cameras. Just gotta blend in with the crowd.

Unbeknownst to you however, three overlords sat in Vox’s office, all the monitors displaying all the nearby streets to this thrift store.

Vox scrolled on his phone as he sipped his coffee, giving the occasional “uh huh” or “that bitch” whenever he felt necessary as he was forced to listen to Velvette’s rant. He was doing his usual work until Velvette and Valentino walked in, well more so Valentino dragging Velvette in. Apparently Velvette went on another tangent about ex’s and how she’s soooooo over you now. Valentino was too high too care but found it amusing nonetheless so he dragged the young overlord and himself to Vox so Vox could deal with keeping up with her tangent while the pimp just sits there and watches in amusement.

Velvette’s rant comes to a sudden stop when her eyes catches a glimpse of the monitors.

“Vox, teleport me there, now!”

With a quick grin to a staff member, you placed the group of neatly pressed clothes in the big donation bin.

The feelings of parting with the clothes was difficult for you to describe. Peace that you could more easily move on? Anxiousness that you’re letting your past relationship go? Self doubt began to flood your soul again.

In an almost desperate attempt to cling onto something, you took one article of clothing and sniffed it—wait is that her scent? You sniffed it again more confused this time. Wha—but you washed it! You washed all of these before donating them, why is that scent lingering around? Another sniff before you realized it wasn’t the clothing that had the scent.

“You’re kind of a freak for sniffing clothes, you know that?”

You turn on your heal, nearly jumping back in shock at how close the other was to you,

“Velvette.”

I’ve had this in my drafts for so long and I had no idea how to end it I’m so sorry. I really wanted to finish at least one request though bc I have so many that’s just sitting there half done 😭

Thank you for the request! I wasn’t expecting anyone to want a part 2 of sorts but I had fun and I hope it isn’t terrible lol

#hazbin hotel #x reader #velvet x reader #hazbin hotel velvet #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette x reader #break up #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino

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butwhyduh · 4 months

Text

Another Year’s End

Summary: New Year’s Eve was never boring. This is told through multiple perspectives. Cuts between each individual. The only warning is fire.

Jason x reader

It was honestly hard to believe that you were currently living in a penthouse overlooking the glittering side of Gotham. You had moved out of a lace that should have probably been condemned with a broken heater and leaky windows and non-existent air conditioner in summer.

It had been an interesting year, as you were learning all of them were being connected to the bat family. Jason was currently asleep on the couch nursing a broken arm in a new sling Alfred had fashioned only a few days previous. You had practically forced him to take pain medication this morning because he was almost in tears while trying to cook.

Now you could get ready in peace. You could never get used to turning on the bathroom heater while walking comfortably on heated marble floors before stepping into a massive shower bigger than your old bathroom. You had a row of soaps and could turn without knocking a single one over. It was an everything shower so upon leaving the bathroom hours later, you felt like a new person.

Jason was up and moving in the bedroom. He was pulling clothing out of the fancy side of his closet. You also now had a fancy side of the closet. Jason had no less than 5 different ties laying in front of him and 2 different jackets.

“Which one for tonight. These are the pants and shoes,” Jason said without turning. You could never be silent enough to trick him.

“This jacket and one of these two ties,” you said after a minute. You held both ties up to his chest. Jason had a silly little half smile on his face as you looked at them both. “This one. Brings out your eyes.”

“Were you just using that as an excuse to stare into my eyes?” He teased.

“Of course.”

“We’ve got about an hour before we go. I’ve still got to shave and probably shower-“

“Definitely shower,” you corrected. “Do you need help covering your cast?”

“How about joining me and helping me wash my back,” he said with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Not even close. I just dried my hair,” you replied. “After the party,” you added with a wink.

“Hmm,” he replied before going to the bathroom.

You moved to the fancy side of your closet and looked at the clothing Jason had bought you over the past year. He didn’t tell you how he got paid so much more and you didn’t ask. You paused for a second. Were you basically a mob wife just enjoying the money brought in from nefarious activities without a thought?

Jason singing from the bathroom broke your thoughts and you continued on getting dressed. No, he wasn’t working as a crime lord anymore. (Your parents would probably love to hear that one.) not to mention you had a thought that Bruce was giving Jason anything he wanted to have a better relationship.

“The red one,” Jason said and you jumped. He stuck his head around the corner of the bathroom. “Please?”

“Sure. Finish your shower and don’t get the floor all wet,” you chuffed. He grinned before going back in the bathroom. It was only a few minutes later that he came out dressed in only a towel. You tried to ignore how ridiculously fit he was, it really didn’t matter how many times you saw it, he was distracting.

“Zip me up?” You asked. He nodded and kissed the back of your neck before slowly pulling the zipper up your spine. You could feel goosebumps forming. That was before he comically grabbed your ass. “Jay!”

He shrugged before tossing you your jacket. “Couldn’t resist.”

———————————

Dick x reader (different character)

Dick was running late. His fiancé was all dressed and he was running out the doors of the precinct to the Porsche.

“No, no, no,” he gasped as he saw the yellow boot on a tire. Yeah, he double parked but he was just dropping something off. Dick looked around and saw no one. It wasn’t his proudest moment but he pulled out a set of lock picks and took the boot off. That took him 5 more minutes behind.

He drove like he stole it while haphazardly throwing off his normal jacket to put on his fancy evening jacket. Trying to put a tie on one handed while speeding on the highway was not easy. You called him as he passed a cop car.

“Fuck!” He said.

“Excuse me?” You answered.

“No, I’m getting pulled over,” he said as the familiar red and blue lights shines behind him.

“Wow. We were supposed to leave 15 minutes ago,” you reminded him. He cringed.

“Yeah, give me like 10 minutes and I’ll be there,” he promised. You hummed a reply before hanging up.

A cop came up to the window and Dick answered with his badge out. “Sorry officer. GCPD business.”

The cop stared at his badge uncomfortably long before nodding. “Be safe.”

Dick showed up to the apartment a little frazzled but otherwise okay. You met him at the car. You took one look at his tie before reaching over to fix it. It was atrocious. You also fussed with his hair a bit.

The drive over wasn’t bad. It was dry and the roads had been cleared of snow recently. And Wayne manor was as glittery and fancy as always. Other people had long since arrived and you both avoided the crowds by coming in the serving entrance.

“Oh hi,” you said to Jason and his girlfriend who were coming in at the same time. “I’m glad we’re not the only ones a little late.”

“Fashionably late,” Jason replied. “Jesus, Dick. What did you do to your collar?” Jason reached over and straightened it.

“I came straight from work. Alright now?”

“Yeah you’re fine. Have you seen Tim?”

“Didn’t see his car,” Dick replied. The ballroom was packed as usual with Gotham’s richest and most influential. The colors this year were rose gold and bright diamond. In fact, there was a display of some of Gotham Museum’s finest diamonds to one side. They were donated for the night after Bruce’s ridiculously high yearly donation. On the opposite side sat a huge Christmas tree decorated with what looked like more glittering gold and diamonds.

Security was posted all around but to Dick, there was far too many people for the few guards. Bruce was to the side of the display with Selina. They were quite the pair with her long black dress with an impossibly high slit and his perfectly tailored suit. He seemed happy and relaxed but Dick knew that could be an act.

“I found Damian,” you called. Damian was sitting with his date at a table towards a back corner. He was wearing a turtleneck with a blazer and his date wore a nice sweater over her dress. They looked cute and more importantly warm, you thought. You wished that you had thought to wear a jacket. You weaved your way to the pair.

“Hey!” Dick said to Damian before forcing the boy into a hug. “How are you?” He hugged Damian’s girlfriend as well.

“There isn’t enough security. I told Father,” Damian replied. Secretly Dick agreed.

“You worry too much. Have you seen Tim?”

“Not yet,” Damian replied. “I don’t know why we insist on having balls here.”

“Preaching to the choir, kid. Let’s go get some drinks,” Jason said to his date.

“You can’t have alcohol with pain meds,” she reminded him and he grumbled while pulling on his cast.

Dick grinned at you while mouthing ‘good luck.’ Telling Jason no was like it’s own extreme sport. You sat next to Dick and grabbed a pair of champagne glasses from the waiter carrying a tray. Dick looked at his watch with a frown.

“You haven’t heard anything from Tim? He’s usually timely,” Dick asked Damian.

“He mentioned something about checking out a case before the gala. I’m not my brother’s keeper,” he replied.

“That’s what Cain said about Abel after he killed him,” Dick replied dryly. You smacked his arm at the snark.

“I didn’t kill him if that’s what you mean,” Damian replied.

“I wasn’t-“

“I would have done it long ago if I wanted to. He probably forgot about the gala with how wrapped up in the case he was,” Damian replied. Dick sighed.

“I’m sure you’re right. Want to dance?” he asked you. You took his arm and let him lead you to the dance floor. Dick was a fantastic dancer. The song was slow and he pulled you close to sway with the music.

———————————

Tim x reader (different reader)

“Timothy Drake please answer the damn phone,” you grumbled as it once again went to voicemail. You had called him 5 times and texted him many more than that. You had gone from mad that he was running late to concerned something happened. Dick’s girlfriend had texted you asking where you both were. You hadn’t responded.

You heard a clattering in the bathroom and you ran to see Tim dressed in his Red Robin suit slide into the window on fall to the floor.

“Tim!” You gasped and tan over to him. He yanked his hood off. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah just late,” he said before standing up too quickly and swaying. You grabbed him to steady him. He started walking to the bedroom. He grabbed a suit and started stripping off his costume. He had a fresh red bruise forming on his side.

“Were you really fighting right before a gala?”

“There’s a case. I’ve almost got it. Met some thugs. Nothing to worry about,” he said while moving to jump in the shower. Normally Tim was much more private than this. It was weird.

“Are you hurt? That bruise looks painful.”

“I’ll be fine. You want to drive?” He asked. He quickly showered and brushed his hair and threw on the suit in record time with practiced ease.

“I guess I can drive,” you said after a minute.

Ten minutes later you parked by the side entrance to a party in full swing. There’s something very intimidating about going to a fancy party in Gotham. You’ve always gotten the vibe that anything could happen at anytime and danger was one step off. Tonight the thought was even greater.

Tim just wasn’t himself as he pulled you into the building. He was a little less refined and a little clumsier.

“Tim, what is going on?” You asked.

“Nothing. We’re just late,” he said.

“Well maybe don’t drag me around when I’m in heels. I almost fell down,” you chided. He sighed.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s go inside, okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied softer.

The glittering gold and diamonds were blinding and the building was incredibly full of people. You weaved through the crowd. You held Tim’s hand tightly in fear of losing him.

“Let’s dance,” he said and that’s when you knew something was wrong. He usually needed at least a full glass of champagne before dancing. You let him guide you to the dance floor. He was sloppy and you had to pull him back a few times as he almost hit people with his wild movements. He looked drunk and seemed to be less coordinated by the minute.

You saw Dick and his fiancé dancing and steered Tim towards them. They were dancing beautifully and you regretted interrupting them.

“Dick!” You called out. He turned to see you and Tim dancing. He smiled.

“Already a glass deep, I see,” he teased Tim.

“No, he’s not,” you said, worried. Dick’s brow furrowed.

“I’m fine,” Tim replied but Dick had already seen the sloppy movement and slower reaction timing.

“Why don’t we get a seat,” Dick replied. He mouth a ‘sorry’ to his date. The four of you moved to a table. “Buddy have you had anything to drink tonight?”

“No and I don’t like the accusation that I have,” Tim replied.

“Okay I believe you,” Dick said. He asked you a bunch of questions and tried to ask Tim who was becoming less coherent by the minute.

—————————

Damian x reader

“Sorry, I am in a poor mood. I just haven’t slept in 31 hours,” Damian admitted after you grew angry at his attitude.

“Why not?” You asked.

“There’s a case that I have been helping Drake with. We’ve been taking turns with surveillance. I didn’t have time to take a nap. I’ll be fine. A few hours shouldn’t be a problem,” he said confidently.

“We don’t have to stay at this party,” you replied. “Seriously if you need to sleep.”

“No Father needs me here. He needs someone watching after him,” Damian replied while looking around the room.

“Don’t you ever get tired of it, caring for everyone?” You asked gently. “Are you going to watch after your father forever?”

Damian suddenly stopped his surveillance and looked over at you. “I’m sorry. This case is getting to me. There’s… a lot on the line.”

“Like what?”

“Drake thinks there’s trafficking involved. A new drug to low inhibition,” he practically whispered. “I can’t really talk about it.”

“Take the night off. It’ll be there tomorrow,” you retorted with a smile. Damian nodded. “Do you want to get some snacks?”

“Sure,” he replied before grabbing your hand and pulling you through the crowd. As Damian walked towards the drink station, his relatively new height afforded him the ability to see over many guests. He spotted Dick fussing over Tim. Damian immediately pulled you towards them.

Just as Damian was arriving at the table, down from them around the Christmas tree, a group of older men lit cigars as they talked business. Jason and his girlfriend happened to be nearby. Jason wanted to quit smoking, he really did. But the fact that they were lighting up as he was quite stressed about the event was hard to ignore. He pulled his cigarettes from his jacket pocket despite his partners protest.

“Can I get a light?” He asked.

At the tables Tim was becoming angry at the concern the others had for him. He suddenly stood up and stormed off towards the tree. His arms swinging wildly as his balance was compromised. And fate for Bruce Wayne had never been kind. Because just as Jason was lighting a match to light up his cigarette, Tim Drake crashed straight into him and directly into the Christmas tree.

Jason jumped back with a yell in pain as his injured arm was jostled but the damage had been done. The tree that Alfred had bought a month previous and had painstakingly decorated with glittering bobbles and dried flowers went up in flames. The tree was incredible flammable.

Tim froze as he looked at the sudden bonfire. Jason dragged him away as the heat seared the air. Screaming could be heard all around and the mass of bodies scrambled for the exits. You froze in fear as the flames tickled the streamers hung from the ceiling.

“We need to leave,” Dick said. “Go to that exit,” he pointed. “I’m going to help them.”

“I’ll come too,” Damian said.

“No, get them out,” Dick commanded. Dimly they could hear Bruce announce something over the loud speakers. Chaos ensued especially around the diamond display. Damian grabbed your hand and you grabbed Dick’s fiancés hand who grabbed Tim’s girlfriend’s hand and the four of you made towards the exit. Bodies pressed all around as people panicked. Your ears rang from the screaming your lungs began to burn from the smoke.

Across the room Dick had just barely made it to Tim and Jason and Jason’s girlfriend. The pair were trying to drag Tim towards an exit with no luck. Jason was furious that he couldn’t use one arm. Dick simply scooped Tim up fireman style before marching towards an exit.

The sprinkler system finally kicked in. The fire remained on the tree but any spread was quickly stopped.

You shivered in the cold Gotham air outside the ballroom. People ran to their cars or stood watching as the tree continued to burn. Damian pulled off his jacket to wrap around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you replied and he pulled you into a hug.

Tim’s girlfriend paced and stared at the exits hoping they would come out soon. “I don’t understand what is going on with him. Tim was not himself.”

“They’ll be out soon,” Dick’s fiancé replied. She looked terrified. Jason was injured and Tim was altered and there were so many civilians. Dick would try to get everyone out.

Fire trucks sounded in the distance as they raced towards the manor. Black smoke billowed out the doors and obscured any view. Inside was chaos as the sprinklers flooded the room. Dick finally made it to an exit and all but tossed Tim on the lawn before running back in to help others.

“I see Tim!” You cried and his girlfriend ran over to him. Visibly uninjured but very altered Tim sat on the grass in a daze.

“Are you okay?” His girlfriend asked and before he could respond, he vomited on the grass. It was electric green and Tim seemed to sag in relief.

“That’s something,” you replied.

“Yes, I think it’s our mysterious substance from the case,” Damian replied.

The last of the people had filtered out of the building and the fire had dimmed down. The firefighters quickly put it out. Dick and Jason and his girlfriend came out finally. Alfred found the group and sighed in relief.

“Thank heavens,” he said. “Let’s get you lot inside.”

They walked to the opposite side of the manor that wasn’t damaged by the smoke and moved into an informal den. Bruce and Selina soon joined them.

“There’s a problem,” Bruce started.

“Other than the fire,” Dick asked.

“And Tim?” Jason added.

“Yes, someone stole about 100 million dollars in diamonds tonight and the drug you were tracing made it’s way into the party tonight. This is now an open investigation,” Bruce said.

“Happy New Years,” Tim said from the couch as the clock struck midnight.

Part 1

#jason todd x reader #batboy x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x reader #dick Grayson x reader #Tim drake x reader #Red Robin x reader #Damian wayne x reader #Robin x reader #batman #new years eve party

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yurislotusgarden · 5 months

Note

Hiii lotuss!!<3 i love ur works they are so cute it makes my empty heart fill up w joy 💔💔

Can i request prompt 6 w chu, dazai and sigma w fem reader? If thats okay ofc!<3

Btw remember to take breaks and eat, drink and sleep well! :D

-💞 anon

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya and Sigma x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ The event

ʚїɞ word count: 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way

ʚїɞ Hi 💞 anon! Thank you for the words, nice to know someone enjoys my works like that <3

Sun rays fell into the warm room, a comfortable silence and atmosphere, a feeling it would be a good day the moment you woke up.

You would call it a perfect Saturday for a day out, and getting up early to start to start your day while the sun has been up for not too long, and you would do so if it wasn't for a specific brown-haired koala clinging to your waist from behind. Really, was it too much to wish for him to be asleep when you wake up? Getting out of his grip is certainly easier when he's asleep than when he's fully conscious.

"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" But truth be told, his morning voice may make up for the inconvenience if you were to not lie to yourself. "It's too early!~"

And here comes the quiet whining from the other adult.

"We both have work, Samu. We need to be at the agency in less than an hour so-"

"So it's plenty of time to stay in bed and cuddle with me!"

"I would rather be on time so that Kunikida doesn’t scold us for being late."

"He will scold us for something anyway. What's the difference?"

“I-”

You didn't have an answer to that one. To be fair, that's not exactly a lie, that Man can find any reason to scold a person.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“...”

“Who am I asking? Of course, you don't have an answer when all I'm saying is the truth!~”

You love seeing Dazai happy, don't get it wrong, but this was one of the times when you just wanted to punch that grin off his face-

“Honey.”

“Hmm?” He really thought he won if his face was anything to go by.

“*I love you but we need to get up*”

A displeased groan came from the man and you had thought you won when-

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no, you wanna hear it in French? ✨Non✨”

You're so done with this man, and you still had to deal with Kunikida’s scolding later.

4 hours.

4 hours is the amount of extra time spent in bed by you, wanting to just stay in bed with your boyfriend as he had a whole day off for once. While it was lovely to have more time with Chuuya than usual, it was already 2 p.m. by that point, way past the time when you should’ve gotten up.

“Chu?”

The question was asked in a quiet voice, in case he fell asleep again since the last time the both of you uttered a word.

A hum was a response enough for you to know he’s at least conscious enough to have some sort of a conversation with him. Gently running your nails through his hair, you quietly asked “Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”

A quiet groan came from the man.

“Nuh-uh”

“Honey.”

“Nooo…” His voice showed just how close to sleeping he was before you spoke up.

“We need to get up-”

“I refuse the offer, now go back to sleep.” But now he seems fully awake? Motherfucker.

“It wasn’t an offer- and it’s 2 p.m.”

Is it even worth trying to argue?

“Do I look like I care about the hour, love?”

“Chuuya!”

“Not changing my mind.”

No, absolutely not.

“I will change your damn mind when I-”

Soft lips were planted on yours for a few seconds to shut you up before pulling away. The ginger head raised his head to kiss you just to shut you up.

“Shush and don’t try to get up, we both know you won’t manage that if I don’t let you.”

But you will always try to argue anyway.

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly.”

He will never get bored of that blossom hue appearing on your cheeks. Never.

Sleeping in the middle of a million blankets may have not been the best idea.

Sigma has been overworking for the past 2 weeks as per usual and you decided that he needs a good rest, resulting in wrapping you both up in any blanket you found lying around. It was comfortable as hell, yeah, but the bi-colored-haired man had been asked to come down to the Casino for something and yet still didn't get up. Is it really your boyfriend or is it some imposter because you thought you would never see him ignoring anything related to his Casino.

You decided to speak as yet another message went unanswered. “Cotton?”

A sleepy murmur of “Yeah?” made it clear he was listening.

“You need to get up.”

“But I don’t wanna.”

A sigh came from you, and another buzz from his phone could be heard. You were pretty sure that by now around 60 different messages could be seen on the screen unanswered. Of course, that was the number of messages that came after he read the first one asking for him in the first place.

“Sigma.”

One word, and yet his head shot up from the pillow right away. You don’t use his name often, especially in that tone. “Did I do something?”

“Sigma.”

“What?” He was genuinely confused, was he that tired that he didn’t even realize what that message earlier really said?

“Cotton-” You were hoping to calm him down by not using his name anymore. “Listen, I love you, but we, especially you, need to get up.”

“Why?”

“Look at your phone.”

“Okay?”

Let’s just say that the moment his brain processed the 80 messages on his phone, he got out of bed with, what you would say was his record speed, literally speedrunned getting ready you had to help him with his hair and tie because this man would go out in bed hair and very badly tied tie and you managed to get him to take a snack with him since he didn’t eat anything yet.

Some of his workers found out it was you who got him out of bed and thanked you.

You did not answer Sigma’s question when he asked where you got all the sweets from later that night.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

#bsd x reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd #x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x you #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #gender neautral reader #sigma x reader #sigma x you #sigma x y/n

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l4ysinterlude · 1 year

Text

request: “Hmm… Hashira! reader who is normally shy gets drunk and flirts with a white hatted stranger. they don’t know he’s the demon king, & muzan humors them. turns out drunk reader is very charismatic and entertaining, ended up making out with muzan for a while. like, a hour. when the big battle happens, they encounter muzan and reader remembers everything, feeling their lips to still feel muzan’s on them. shy hashira reader is red faced and stuttering lol”

AN: heya, very sorry for the long delay of this ask. i’ve been extremely busy for the past 2 weeks but i’m gonna take some time off to complete this. as an apology for my absence, i decided to take it upon myself to make this a 2 PART story (this might be counted as a series). i will also like to add that, i kinda exaggerated his outfit he was wearing because like.. it was thoughts running throughout my head. so just a heads up, i’m a little descriptive of his outfit. and MAYYYY… have gotten carried away on this one. so i apologize in advance 🙏🏾.

request by @cursetopia

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍 - pt. 1

pt. 1 | pt. 2

muzan x hashira! reader

warnings/notes: 16+ blog, semi-nsfw, suggestive content, dancing/clubbing (yk, they might be all touchy-feely or wtv), grinding, making out, modern(ish?) au mixed with the present (if that makes sense).

synopsis: you are a shy hashira who has took the time to cut loose, enjoy yourself; until you encounter a man in a white hat. things turn very intimate until a few days later, you encounter him again. not expecting he was the enemy… the enemy who the DSC hates the most.

you were feeling very bold tonight. you don’t know what it was, but your shy nature wasn’t there anymore when you were out on the dance floor, letting loose and releasing your inner freak. you order a couple of drinks and got yourself to the point you forgot where you was. enjoying yourself to the fullest; ignoring the people that surrounded you.

but you senses started to somewhat sneak in, feeling a presence coming straight towards you. you got a good look at him even if your vision relatively blurry. he was wearing a black/sliver vest, a white-long sleeved dress shirt, and some black dress pants and sliver loafers. he’s kinda over-dressed for this type of environment but you didn’t even seem to care. he lifts up the white hat that was covering his face, revealing his beautiful crimson but vibrant eyes.

the way his eyes shined within the dim lights in the room everyone was in, was breathtaking. he was undeniably attractive and you were too stunned to speak, even though you weren’t even sober. the music that was playing shifted into a more intimate vibe. so people are about to to get real touchy.

you started to sway your hips to the beat and eventually making your way towards him; wrapping your arms around his neck, closing the gap between you two.

he chuckled and admired how bold you’ve been, ever since you saw him. he puts his hands on each side of your hips, moving to the rhythm.

“i’ve never seen somebody so overdressed in this type of establishment…” you smirked. he laughs to himself, not denying the fact that; it is true.

“well, i like to stand out from the crowd. not dressing the way others do it, nowadays,” he replied, still helping to swaying your hips. you nod at his response and took it in as you go.

“what’s your name?” he asked curiously.

“y/n.”

“nice to meet you, y/n. the names muzan.” he smiled.

“well muzan, all this staring is making me uncomfortable. wanna go somewhere private?” you asked.

he nods as you lead him to some dark corner, away from the people entering the club. as soon as your back hits the wall, your lips crashed onto his. he wraps his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss and licking your bottom lip to be let inside your mouth.

you gladly allowed him to do so and moan in his mouth. you felt a knee go against your crotch. you let out a gasp, letting more arousal build up between you both. he notices and takes the lead by moving his knee and listening to your moans come out from your throat.

you both continue to make love in the corner until the night was over.

AN: welp, that’s the end of part 1; i really hope you all enjoyed. i’m trying to experiment with newer writing styles and see what i like best. stay tuned for part 2 (coming soon)! also, be sure to like & reblog. it motivates me to continue to create content! you don’t have to, just a suggestion <3.

#kny smut #kny x you #kny x reader #kny muzan #black writers #x reader #kny fanfic #fanficton #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x y/n #muzan smut

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takadokii · 7 months

Text

✴ extra: 2:47 !! ‧₊.࿐

summary Gojo likes speaking to you late at night and smalltalking you to sleep so he can finally mutter the words he really wants to get off his chest. The ones he's far too afraid to say when you're awake. pairing high school!gojo satoru x f!reader tags gojo is annoying (canon.....)warnings little bit of childhood gojo angst word count 1.3k links collection ; taglist

this is an additional chapter of my series "caught in the middle", if you enjoyed this, consider checking it out! 🩵

At first, you confuse the blaring noise with the sound of your alarm, so in a weird way, you're almost relieved when your left eye opens a little to discover the moon is still up, shining through the cracks in your blinds. It was practically full tonight, you note, so close one could confuse it for being full already.

You grin at the thought of having a few more hours of sleep before getting up. That is if, whoever decided to call you at this ungodly hour would make it quick.

You were hoping for a spam call or a wrong number, but when the name Gojo glared back at you, your hope for some rest evaporated in front of your squinting eyes.

"What?"

"Wooow, is that a way to say good morning to your best friend, hmm?"

"It's not morning, nor is it good."

"You didn't deny I was your best friend, though."

You sigh. Placing the phone next to your head, you let yourself fall back into the pillow. It was now slightly colder, something that eased your misery.

"I'm so telling Shoko!"

"Did you need something, Gojo?" You try to get back on topic, knowing that was close to impossible considering it's Gojo. There's a raspiness in your voice that Satoru's lacked, telling you he must have been up these past few hours.

"No, just wanted someone to talk to, and Suguru still has my number blocked!"

"... that's an excellent idea, actually."

"You wouldn't! Don't even pretend," he smiles. The smugness in his voice would have annoyed you if you were more awake.

"So, how was your day?" He finally speaks, and you can hear his smile.

"Was okay, work was boring, but I didn't have to do much cuz Aki was there."

"Aki…? " You heard him mumble under his breath, deep in thought, "Ahh, I remember! That little brown-haired guy with the big fat crush on you!"

You make a noise of agreement.

"What's up with him? He still into you?"

"Mmm, I dunno, maybe. But more importantly! Today, this guy came in and offered me 3000 yen if I would go and eat with him!"

"No way, that's not enough," Satoru scoffed in disbelief.

"It's really not! And He was like three times my age or something. It was really gross."

The two of you are silent for a little. Satoru doesn't mind. He even thinks you've fallen asleep for a second there. He's sitting by the windowsill, it's not cold underneath his skin, and his bear back against the wall felt as though they were the same temperature. He lets himself get lost in the thoughts of how warm your hands were in comparison, how everything about you radiated a warmth he could never really produce on his own. He longed for it, both to be warm and to feel yours.

The thought that you would probably flinch away at his cold touch made him frown, and he wondered if that was the only reason. Hoped that if his hands were just a little warmer, there would be a content smile on your face instead, and you'd simply squeeze it back.

"How was your day?" You finally ask in return.

His head snaps towards his phone screen, he got so lost in his thoughts he forgot you were still there.

"Good. I've been thinking about your book and... what I said about it. I thought maybe I should give it a try," Satoru smiles, "so I can properly make fun of it, of course."

You hum, "Didn't know you could read."

He ignores your comment.

"But you have to lend me your copy. I'm too embarrassed to have that in my purchase history."

You huff in disbelief.

"I'm sure you've got worse things in there. Remember when Shoko found your-"

"Okaaay , enough!" he interrupts, raising his voice just enough to cut you off. The little giggle he can hear along with the rustling of your sheets brings a grin to his face nonetheless.

"So that's why you called me? To have small talk and cadge my romance novels?"

The question makes him frown, and he dislikes the thought that you'd assume he'd need a reason to call you in the first place.

He wonders if Suguru sometimes calls you just because, if you fall asleep on the phone together or send each other little updates on your days. He wonders if you would have answered with a more lively tone and quicker if it was his best friend.

He counted five rings when he called.

"I guess…" he begins, but you accept this as an answer already, unaware Satoru was playing with the drawstring of his pants, trying his hardest to mutter the words burning on the tip of his tongue.

"I guess I just missed you," he finally breaths.

He's met with silence and hates it, tapping a rhythm against the window to break it.

"Did you hear me?" He whispers, embarrassment and disappointment washing over him.

You don't respond.

He counts about 3 minutes to conclude you've fallen asleep again, and it's confirmed when he can hear your soft breathing through the phone.

Tiptoeing towards his mattress, he lays down, puts the phone on his pillow and scoots over a little. He doesn't bother putting the blanket over his body, knowing it wouldn't make a difference. He assumes this is how you must be lying right now, and he imagines turning his head, closing his phone and finding you lying there.

Warm and breathing, softly.

"To be honest… I've been having this dream about you lately, and..." Satoru waits, in case you woke up again, in case you were pretending to sleep or actually on the toilet without telling him earlier.

He waits for just about five rings.

"I'm kinda scared I'll have that dream again... I've never really had that, you know."

It must be the almost full moon that makes him so melancholic tonight as he reflects on his life thus far. The empty apartment he stayed in during holidays, big enough for a family of three generations, the one his father had dismissively given him the key to.

Occupied just by Satoru, the house was cold, even during the summer. It was quiet most of the time, simply lacking the warmth of being lived in, of people.

He remembered back in middle school, playing tennis for a year and hockey for two after that. He remembers walking home from tournaments, his racket or helmet tossed in the trash on the way somewhere to make space for a trophy he was hoping to hide, putting them at the bottom of his drawer as soon as he entered his room. He'd announce he quit the club on the dinner table and it was met with a hum or silence.

During all this, he remembers training with his mother every evening and with his trainer every morning and noon. He remembers wearing his best clothes on the weekends and sitting beside his aunts as they gushed about their nephew.

"The future head of the Gojo clan."

He had heard this phrase in a million tones, in a million ways, from a million people.

Laced into their tone was often malice, jealousy, pity and occasionally pride.

"I've never really…" he starts, and he suddenly feels like crying. He remembers a conversation with you long ago, which makes the feeling in his chest even heavier. "... had something to dream about."

His next breaths are shaky, and he's surprised by the sound of them.

He wonders if you can hear it through the phone.

He stays like that, lying on his back, hand on his chest as he listens to the pounding of his heart matching his uneven breathing.

"Anyway... It's late," he looks at the clock on his nightstand: 3.07, next to it is a picture of the four of you in your first year, Shoko's face pressed against yours, you're smiling brightly one arm around her and the other around Suguru, who holds back a grin as he looks at you. Satoru is standing next to him, arm on his shoulder, eyes closed.

"Too late, maybe," he chuckles drily.

"Goodnight," he whispers, before a bittersweet smile dares to form on his lips, "dream of me too, okay?"

He hangs up before you can answer.

thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy! If you're interested in more of this dynamic then please check out "Tales of the Cursed!"

Love, jae 🩵

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oumaheroes · 3 months

Text

My submission for the @hws-anthology! Thank you so much to all of the mods for making this possible

Characters/ Ships: England, France- FrUK (But gently… softly)

Summary: The rediscovery of lost relics has a habit of awakening unwelcomed feelings. The past overlaps with the present far more than France realises.

---------‐----------------

Sunken Nostalgia

‘There you are. Hiding as usual.’

England looked over his shoulder at the sound of France’s voice. He was leant against the railings of the walkway overlooking Portsmouth harbour, wearing a light coat and stood as far as he could get away from the main crowds without missing the view. It was a busy day, unsurprisingly given the circumstances, and even where he was on the waterfront people were thronged out all along the railings and in the nearby buildings to get the best look at the happenings out at sea. It was not every day that a ship this old- a rare find indeed for how intact it was rumoured to be- was raised back to the surface. Some more eager watchers had even gone out onto the water themselves; past England, France saw a small pleasure boat packed with onlookers come in closer to shore to avoid an official navy ship, bearing down imperiously on anything in its way.

Maybe sensing his wish to be alone from just his expression, or from whatever it was that connected their people to them as they so keenly were, the onlookers nearest to England had given him as wide of a berth as they possibly could. He stood there in the crowd out of place and alone, a lone island close pressed by a sea of mortal life that dare not come closer than the five feet he mentally permitted.

‘I wondered when you’d show up.’ Was all England said as France approached.

‘You thought that I would?’

‘No, that I’m still surprised by. But I felt you arrive a few hours ago.’

‘Ah.’

‘Boat? Plane?’

‘Plane, then train. You know as well as I do that those ferries are frightful things.’

‘That’s just your delicate constitution talking.’

France didn’t bother to reply. He joined England at the railing and handed him one of the takeaway cups that he was carrying, waggling it when he hesitated.

England took it gingerly, ‘You should have told me you were coming.’

‘What on earth for.’

‘Common courtesy. It is my land you are invading.’

‘I’m invading, am I? Today’s events affecting your terminology?’

England gave him a dry look and popped open the lid of his cup, ‘You brought me tea?’

‘You like tea.’

‘I do.’ England looked suspicious. ‘You never bring me tea.’

‘Hmm.’ France made sure the lid of his own cup of bitterly dark coffee was secure and leant his arms against the railing’s cool metal, ‘Well, your look of disgust will lose its charm if I see it too much.’

‘As long as you breathe I’ll wear it, so you don’t have to worry about it going anywhere.’ England took a tentative sip and turned back out to the water.

Portsmouth harbour spread out around them, deep docks and industrial ships on the murky grey sea. Beyond the harbour and out to the horizon were large, sturdy boats, supporting a large, odd looking white crane that rose impossibly high up into the sky. It looked something like a praying mantis, all arms and disproportionate length.

France ran a hand through his hair to tame it back, and wished that he’d remembered to bring a hairband with him. ‘Finally happening then, is it?’

‘Apparently so.’

‘It’s been talked about for long enough.’

‘They had to invent a way to raise her without damaging her.’

‘I’m still surprised there’s anything of the Mary Rose (1) left to raise. Or damage.’

England made a non-commital noise.

France gently swirled his coffee, trying to cool it. ‘You weren’t on her when she went down were you?’

England shot him a warning look, eyes going to the humans nearby. ‘No. I was moved to another one the day before. A change in gunners, or perhaps one of the captains was unwell; I can’t remember. But I should have been. He blamed me for her loss, though.’

‘Henry?’(2)

‘Hmm.’

‘I would have blamed you too. Poor thing was so heavy in the water, like a round, fat duck.’

England rolled his eyes, ‘You weren’t even there.’

‘I was on the shore.’

‘Exactly. No where near the actual danger.’

‘I’d had enough of fighting you at sea, thank you.’

‘You knew you’d lose, that’s why.’

‘My love, need I remind you whose sunken ship we are waiting to see dragged out of the mud?’

‘Which was sunk from an oversight-‘

‘Your navy’s oversight.’

‘And not from any effort on your part.’

France leant over and kissed England on the cheek, his cool skin growing warm as France stayed close to whisper in his ear, ‘Your misplaced insistence is scaring the children.'

To their left, a small child had wandered away from their family and now stood close enough to likely hear them. He stared up at them, wide-eyed and baffled until his mother clucked for him to come away.

England stepped rather rudely on France’s shoe, ‘If anyone’s scaring them, it’s you.’

They fell into silence, sinking under the general chatter of the people around them and the sound of the waves breaking against the concrete embankment below.

‘When do you leave for the Falklands?’(3) France asked after a while, risking a taste of his coffee. It was disappointingly English, ‘I assume you’re going, now that things have become serious.’

‘As soon as this is done.’

France nodded and nudged him gently with his shoulder. ‘How far you have fallen. Surely your navy isn’t quite so lacking that now they’re forced to recruit your long-fallen flagships.’

England smiled, safely hidden at the corner of France’s eye, ‘Depends on who you ask.’

‘Well, if you ask me-‘

‘I’m not.’

‘You should, you know. I’d give you the truth.’

England laughed, a sharp bark, ‘Why are you really here, Francis.’

France ignored England’s eyes on him and shrugged, ‘Just to watch.’

‘Just to watch. Why?’

‘Why not?’

England snorted, disappointment shown only in the downturn of his mouth, and turned away.

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

It didn’t happen.

Deteriorating weather, a problem with the crane, some drama between the Mary Rose Trust and the army personnel that were helping them- it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. What was one more day to her or to them, after so many centuries waiting.

That night, quiet and contemplative in England’s small hotel room, France closed his eyes to the memory of canon fire and felt for England’s familiar hand in the dark.

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

If England was still curious as to why France had stayed with him to watch the Mary Rose be raised, or why he was there in the first place, he didn’t let it show. He left for the harbour early the next morning, jangling the hotel room keys before France’s bleary eyes and placing them silently on the bedside table. France found him again later in the same spot as the day before, when the sun was actually up and thus made the goings on visible.

It was just as busy as the day before. Boats of all sizes bloomed like algae on the water and the crowds watching on the harbour grew larger every passing hour.

‘I wonder if they’ll find clothes,’ France mused before the worst of the onlookers had arrived. It was overcast and cool, the temperature made bitter by the morning, and France stood chilled next to England who was annoyingly content with it all.

‘I doubt it. Been down there for too long, most of it will have rotted away.’

‘I hope there’s still something caught up there. I like it when they find everyday items in these sorts of things: combs and clothes and such. Little reminders of what things were once like every day.’

‘They won’t find much. Far too old.’

‘It would be nice if they did. I don’t have anything from that far back. Nothing fabric, anyway.’

England watched a seagull pass overhead, screeching loudly, ‘What on earth would you do with it?’

‘Nothing.’ France shrugged, ‘Have them restored and put in a museum, most likely. Using them isn’t the point. Remembering and admiring them is, looking upon examples of who we were and how we lived.’

‘Is that why you’re really here? To steal any potential treasure they find?’

France scoffed. ‘Hardly. Damp and rotten English fabric has no value for me.’

‘Mock it, then.’

‘Far more likely.’

England shook his head and picked at his coat sleeve.

France leant his head on his elbow and watched England’s fingers, remembering fat gold rings with inlaid expensive stones which had once sat there. Smaller hands, a youth’s hands- skin stained black with gunpowder beneath torn lace. England had never been able to keep himself from ruining his clothes. He walked through delicate things like cobwebs, hardly seeing them at all, a magpie-like need for finery without understanding its function.

‘It’s strange to think about us doing that now, isn’t it?’ France mused.

England stopped and looked up, ‘Wearing those sorts of clothes?’

France nodded to the waves, ‘Us warring on the Channel. The Channel of all places. Odd, isn’t it, how that sort of thing feels like strangely like childhood.’

‘This isn’t the Channel, this is-’

‘Oh, stop it, you know that’s not what I meant.’

‘Either way, say the word,’ England’s face was serious but his eyes betrayed him, ‘It’s been far too long without practice in my opinion. You’re too close for comfort these days- quicker boats and planes and all that.’

‘There are talks of a tunnel, you know.’ (4)

‘God.’

‘One road to connect us.’

‘Abysmal.’

‘I can be here within an hour or two.’

France was surprised when all England did was give a short, quick laugh, ‘I suppose I’ll need to change my locks.’

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

Despite several signs to the contrary, eventually something notable did happen.

A rippling of the water, the line of the crane rising, and then the old wreckage of the Mary Rose slowly emerged to the modern day in her metal coffin. From the docks and the televisions, sixty million people watched the blackened ribs of her cracked belly emerge to a thunderous cheering and the cannon fire of reawakened city defences. The first breath of air she’d felt in nearly five hundred years, the old Tudor wood greeting a new Elizabethan age.

Watching her return on modern concrete embankments, her last living sailor smiled widely to see her. England’s expression softened to something younger and boyish as the old ship became visible, as if greeting an old friend after years apart.

France tried to see it through his eyes, past the dark remains and the sludge to find something beautiful or special. Something which matched the colours and the vibrancy of the period that he remembered, hopeful nostalgia given physical form.

It was a disappointment. Nothing remained of the old ship but fingers of dark wood, skeletal and misshapen. All else was lost: the once tall, straight mast, the billowing sails, and her black shiny cannons over a beautiful crafted wooden hull. She had been beautiful. What was left behind was nothing at all but a lump of something undefinable, impossible to see as a ship at all without being told so.

Yet England was still smiling, relaxed and loose as he took in the crowds and the scene on the water.

France shook his head and dug his cigarettes out of his pocket. ‘You look as if she has returned whole.’

To his regret, now aware that he was being watched, England’s easy openness vanished, face smoothing back under his usual control, ‘Shut up.’

France offered him a cigarette, ‘There is nothing wrong with that. Though I admit that I had hoped there would be more. From what the news had been saying-‘

‘This is more than they ever thought we’d get. And even fifty years ago, this wouldn’t have been possible. Humanity’s come a long way.’

‘Maybe too far.’ France cupped his hand around his lighter to protect it from the wind and held the cigarette in his lips. The smoke filled his lungs, sweet and safe. ‘I hoped to see something I recognised. All this fanfare and money and all you’ve got for your troubles is a few pieces of old wood.’

‘It’s more than I had before.’

‘But aren’t you unhappy with that? Didn’t you hope to find more; for her to be better preserved, at least?’

England thought for a moment, flicking the end of his cigarette with his thumb to scatter the ash in the breeze. ‘No,’ he said eventually, ‘I think no matter what she could have looked like, she wouldn’t live up to how I remember her.’

He paused. Then added, ‘Those ships were once everything. The fastest travel, the most powerful weapons, the only way to get safely off my land with any distance. I think that if she had come back perfectly whole, I would find her more disappointing; I’d only see how jarringly small she is against everything else.’

France considered this. ‘You are right in that this is an odd world she has come back to. Nothing is the same from when she sank, not the look of the shores nor even the language. Technology, ideas, religion-’

‘I’m still here,’ England said. A hint of his soft smile had returned, eyes back on the strange crane and its messy cargo. ‘It’s the same soil. Same air, same skies. That’s essentially what we are, isn’t it. The passing things no one thinks about which change on the surface but remain the same underneath.’

France didn’t reply and England coloured, seemingly only then aware of what he’d said. ‘Besides. Who else would know exactly what’s missing but us. I’d rather think about what’s still there.’

‘There I was, thinking you’d gone sweet.’ France flicked the end of his cigarette into the water below them and hooked one arm through England’s, ‘The Falklands ignored for this; I would never have guessed you’d favour sentimentality over current politics.’

‘I don’t.’

A lie, a lie. England young, his small hands smoothing mud over his old torc, hoping to keep it hidden and safe from harm. He could have instead given it to please Rome: new, hungry invader eager for twists of Celtic gold. A lie, a lie- England at his Plantagenet court, eyes on the windows to the sea and the unknown beyond whilst behind his back his monarchy and way of life tore itself apart, a dirty boy in fine clothes who’d have been just as happy in rags if they’d kept him warm.

A lie, a lie. Arthur after Alfred left, more heartbroken that he should have been for the loss of one colony among many.

France smiled, ‘Of course you don’t.’

They looked out to the boats and the crane in silence, listening to the crowds and the seagulls overhead. The unchanging sounds of millennia, birds and welcoming crowds watching as ships with their sailors returned to them.

Glancing down the seafront, to the people young and old clapping and shouting with the ancient city at their backs, England seemed to read France’s thoughts. He stepped closer, their arms still linked- a solid weight against France’s side. ‘It’s all the same thing, isn’t it. Just dressed differently.’

France thought of all the things he’d had and lost over the years, from delicate gold trinkets to wooden shoes, handmade woollen tunics to the finest silks. Different versions of his long life kept safe and lost somewhere in the soil. Whether they were whole or not didn’t bring the past any closer.

Maybe, merely closure was enough.

‘Yes. I suppose so.’

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

AN:

A huge thanks to the always wonderful TheDisappointedIdealist12 for kindly beta reading this more times than needed and being my creative sounding board. Thank you for your help, your friendship, and for everything else

Historical Notes:

The Mary Rose was, as touched on in this fic, an English battle ship which sailed from 1511- 1545 and was a key part of several major battles between England and France. She was sunk in July of 1545, theorised due to the reasons listed here- overfull with men and heavy, she keeled over in the water when she was turned to fire guns. Aside from this, the sinking could also have been due to gunports being left open (let all the water in as she turned), the wind hitting the sails at the wrong time, or age making her too heavy. Potentially, it was a combination of several reasons. She sank not far from the port of Portsmouth, in the Battle of the Solent. She was raised in 1982, when this fic is set. Learn more about the Mary Rose here! https://maryrose.org/about-the-mary-rose/

King Henry VIII was King of England from 22 April 1509 until his death in 1547. Henry is best known for running through wives like there was no tomorrow in a violent, unstoppable fashion, and spending lots of England’s gold. Much of this gold was stolen from looted monasteries he had decided weren’t very important any more, after he’d turned the Kingdom Protestant from the traditional Catholic just to marry his mistress (whom he later beheaded- yay!). The Mary Rose was said to be his favourite ship, and he tried to have her raised in his lifetime

Falklands War: The Falklands War, a not officially declared war between the United Kingdom and Argentina which lasted 10 weeks. It was fought over the British territory of The Falklands (Islas Malvinas) which lies off the coast of Argentina in 1982. The war spanned April to June, and the Mary Rose was raised in May with the British Army being heavily involved. As both were happening at once, many soldiers involved in the raising had friends or knew those in other units who were at that moment going off to fight. It made things somewhat tense and frustrating, according to some involved (This is the documentary I watched whilst researching this topic, I recommend giving it a watch! It has interviews with some soldiers who comment about this odd situation https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HAJgKunmGdk)

Channel tunnel: The Channel Tunnel, the underground route between the south of England and the north of France connecting Dover to Callais, was only built in 1994- 12 whole years after this fic is set. Arthur has a few years of peace left

#aph england #aph france #hws england #fruk #hws france #arthur kirkland #francis bonnefoy #hws #aph #hetalia #hetalia anthology #hws anthology #hws zine

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unknown-lab · 1 year

Text

What is Love?

Pairing: Dazai Osamu x reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Cheating

Have you ever once in your life, regardless if you're single or in a relationship, wondered... What love is? How do you get it? What should you do to maintain the love you're having for another person? Throughout my experience, there's one thing for sure.

Love is something that fades easily, only when you're with the wrong person.

The night of our 5th Anniversary.

Food? Done. Table? Well-prepared. Candles? All up. Dress? Gorgeous. Lights? Perfect. Everything, every single detail was not left out. Time was tick-tocking as I was admiring what I had done for the past 5 hours. For him, for us. The only flaw I'm having right now is the empty spot in front of me. It should be occupied 1 hour ago.

I waited

And waited

And waited...

Ah... It's 10 pm now. The candles are all out. The room darkened, and there were only 2 dim lights on top of me. He's a busy man, I guess he'd forgotten about this already. Alright then, there's no sign of his return, I might as well start cleaning up. Although I haven't touched anything on the table, I don't feel hungry. Maybe because I don't have the every to be hungry now.

Front door opens

I was already done with the cleaning. I turned to him, and our eyes met. He looks tired too. I don't want to stress him out further, so I just gave him a smile and turned away, walking toward our bed. It's like he could read my mind, he didn't say anything, he just went into the bathroom and took a shower.

He lies down next to me, both of us turning to the opposite side. He's still next to me, and he smells nice. The scent is different from the shampoo we have in our bathroom. I wonder where did he get it from. I was deep in thought until he broke the silence.

"Sign the papers tomorrow."

Hmm? What papers? Never mind, I'll just ask him tomorrow. I don't know why, I feel more tired than usual tonight.

Oh.

Wow.

This escalated... rather quickly... Dazai. Well, I did expect this to happen sooner or later. I was reading through the divorce papers, making nothing is missed out. Everything right now was peaceful. No quarrels, no fights, just two grown adults doing what adults should be doing.

"I was with her last night. I had been by her side for about half a year, and we're planning to make that official. Hopefully, you would understand." He broke the silence, once again. There weren't any expectations heard from his monotone voice. It's like this is just a procedure to him.

Obviously, I kept quiet. I didn't raise my head to look at him, just the files. They are the only thing I have now. I signed the papers and passed them to him. I went to pack my belongings, making sure to bring everything I had with me. While he's just there, sitting on the couch texting her.

Everything is now at the doorstep, ready to go. For the first time in so long, he showed kindness. He put my luggage into the boot. For a split second, seeing him in his suit made my heart skip a beat. How long has he not worn that? It was the one I bought for him on our 1st anniversary. And I know for sure, it's his favourite.

"You can go now, I'll deal with the papers myself. Nothing will go wrong." This is more of an assurance to himself than to me.

"Did you know what day was yesterday?" I looked at him, unfiltered words just came out of my mouth.

"Yeah. It was our 5th Anniversary." He said nonchalantly.

Out of all the things I've thought of, this was the last of all that I could possibly expect. I was expecting a no, regardless he was lying or not. The fact that he knew everything, he knew I was waiting for him, he knew he had to come back, he knew it was our anniversary. This is the trigger that is preparing to fire.

"Then why were you absent?"

"She said wanted me to stay with her."

I could imagine the girl in her sweet voice, holding his hand or hugging him tightly. Begging him to stay with her, just to ruin our moment.

Bravo. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes, slowly rolling down my cheek. Through the blurry vision, I saw a young man in his favourite suit, running towards me. He hugged me and said:

"It's alright, I'd do anything if it's for you."

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writeshite · 1 year

Note

would you write more of the smart cookie fic? im just very very into it and would love a part 2 🫶🏻

Love You To The Moon & Back

Summary:

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?” “....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles. “Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.”

Pairings:

Spencer Reid x Male Reader

Tags:

Words: 4690

Author's Note:

Yes, you may 😌. I've been thinking of doing some more stuff for the AUs I make, cause it's fun, and I think male & gender-neutral readers need more AUs. Sorry for making this long 💀.

I found the experience of falling in love or being in love was a death: a death of everything. You kind of watch yourself die in a wonderful way, and you experience for the briefest moment - if you see yourself for a moment through their eyes - everything you believed about yourself gone. In a death-and-rebirth sense.

- Hozier

Around Spencer, the kitchen felt like a world away as he took in the feeling he was experiencing; with light, frivolous laughter, he hid his face in your chest to stop himself from falling into giddy hysterics. You were equally as giddy, chuckling when Spencer met your eye, “So…what now?” he asked.

“Well, we’ve got a few more hours of work,” you respond, chuckling when his face scrunched up in mock irritation, “but after, we could go on a date,” you suggest.

“Date?”

“Hmm, you know,” you respond, “that thing people do when they want to pursue a romantic relationship.” He smiles; admittedly, he hadn’t thought past the kiss, now surprised to find you wanted to cultivate something along the lines of an actual romantic relationship with him.

“Yeah, I know,” he responds, “what do you have in mind?”

“Well, the museum has a new Classics exhibit,” you reply, and Spencer is amazed that you’d genuinely been paying attention when he’d dumped his knowledge of 15th Century literature on you. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” he nods enthusiastically, excitedly bouncing on the balls of his feet. The hours left at work breeze through fast, and Spencer spends most of it with dancing hands, a wide smile on his face - your date is set to 9:30 AM, Saturday morning. He goes home with a prep in his step, and when the weekend comes around, his enthusiasm soars; Saturday morning sees few clouds in the sky and the promise of sun. Spencer kept to his usual attire of casualness; the streets were averagely busy, and he twists the strap of his satchel on his way there, quelling any anxieties that manage to break past the excitement. Said anxieties are set aside when he notes how well your leather jacket hugs your arms.

“Hey, cookie,” you greet, hand reaching out to hold his.

“Hey,” he threads his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as you make your way through the museum. The Classics exhibit displayed several kraters from c. 520-500 BCE, Etruscan figurines, Greek and Roman sculptures, and various other artifacts. Classics isn’t as interesting a topic it seems, as the crowd is relatively small, but Spencer is thankful for that - the overcrowded dinosaur exhibit you’d passed came to mind, and he shuddered at the thought of being caught up in that.

“Etruscan tomb painting….” You read off one of the displays before turning to him with a knowing smile.

“Oh, the Etruscans were a civilization that flourished in Central Italy between the 8th and 3rd Century BCE, renowned in antiquity for their rich mineral resources and as a major Mediterranean trading power,” he speaks easily, basking in the fondness you directed towards his rambling. “Much of their history and culture was either destroyed or assimilated into the conquering Roman Empire. Tomb painting is considered one of the Etruscans' greatest legacies, with beautifully painted tombs in Tarquinia, Cerveteri, Chiusi, and Vulci.”

The exhibit didn’t have the actual paintings, instead displaying photographic copies with annotations and interactive maps; the sculptures are set up to mimic the inside of a temple, leading to the back where the kraters are set. The other sculptures are scattered about the room, and Spencer beams when you turn to him for information, having spoken more today than he has in a long time. He coughs in the middle of his tangent about pediments; he rubs the back of his neck and apologizes for the scratchy throat.

You chuckle, “Come on, let’s get something for that cough, eh?” The museum’s cafe is surprisingly empty, with a few people milling about here and there and the majority off at the shops. You both get iced teas and take a table away near one of the window walls. Spencer keeps hold of your hand and drums his fingers mindlessly. He is saddened when the date comes to an end. “C —can we do this again?”

You nod enthusiastically in response, and still riding on the coattails of joy, he asks, “Can I kiss you again?”

“As many times as you like, love.”

He beams, leaning into your space to do just that, his thumb rubs across your skin, and even after you part for the day, Spencer is ecstatic - the joy persisting into tomorrow as he skips with every step. “Well, well, well, someone’s happy,” Derek remarks. “I hope this means you finally said something to loverboy.”

“Yup,” Spencer responds, “we, uh, had a date yesterday.”

Derek pats Spencer’s back with a proud smile, “You know what this means? I, Derek Morgan, was right.” Spencer shakes his head; any attempts to clarify to Derek that this wasn’t exactly an I told you so moment fell on deaf ears as the man smugly waltzed from the elevator with a cheer. Spencer follows after; when you arrive some moments later, it’s with two coffees as usual, and the day begins as the first of many days chasing an unsub through the Appalachian Mountains.

“It’s almost like some twisted sightseeing event,” Derek mumbles. “The unsub’s earliest activities can be traced in Alabama; they kidnap two people, and from what the surviving witnesses have said, make both victims fight to the death, the winner gets to live.”

“Ties get both killed, and refusal to fight does the same,” you add. “They’re patient, willing to wait for months if need be to strike again. The murders between Kentucky and West Virginia had two years between them; if they are following the mountains, then there’s a chance they’ll cross over into Canada and most likely out of our hands.”

“Alright, then, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen,” Gideon says, “What else do we know?”

“They’re also meticulous, the locations, the methods, the choosing of victims. It’s all so careful, like some form of entertainment,” Spencer responds.

The facts are as follows:

The unsub has little regard for other people, seeing them as pawns for their own amusement.

The victims appear randomly selected, but on closer inspection, all seem to play into their disturbing amusement. Features vary, but all work in the retail industry - the unsub walks through retail stores for hours before picking. They’d do the same company for two states before switching to another, then another, and another.

Victims had a week; after that, survivors were left tied, with a sack over their heads at their place of work, and corpses were left in the same place as well.

The unsub didn’t care for publicity and seemed to want to keep it as something private.

Pennsylvania is the next destination; the first victim is already chosen by the time of landing, which leaves one of hundreds if not thousands of other potential candidates. Spencer and Gideon stay with the local police department, you split off with Ellle, and Hotch goes off with Derek. Spencer bounces off theories and facts with Gideon; the profile becomes clearer but comes with a few more holes. The unsub seems well-red, familiar with police procedures, not intimately, more so like someone who’s read and heard extensively enough to understand.

“The space between murders suggests they must have traveling involved in their day-to-day life to be able to do so with such ease. Said life must offer them some satisfaction if they’re able to handle their urges so well.“ Gideon pointed to the mapped-out route of the unsub, “They could be in the tourism field, a flight attendant or a business consultant, something that lets them go from state to state easily enough.”

“Business consultants are sought after for their professional advice and services; they locate challenges in businesses and strategize plans to find solutions; they essentially come in and take over control, in the same way the unsub takes power over one’s life from their victims.” Spencer rambles, “but why target retails workers?”

Gideon sighs, “The higher up the chain you go, the less regard you have for your fellow man,” he states, “83% of retail workers report harassment from customers, the higher the social class, the worse the abuse can be. Our unsub’s disregard for human life may also be intrinsically linked to their social class as well as their occupation.”

“So everyone below a certain point is no better than cattle to them?” Gideon nods in response to Spencer’s question.

“Can I help you folks out?”

The Goodwill of the first victim’s kidnapping was small, residential houses all around; the community around it wasn’t small per se, but close enough to take note when outsiders came about. The manager, Naomi Hughes, is a kind middle-aged woman of relative height, hair in a neat row of braids along her head.

You and Elle introduce yourselves and draw out your badges, “We’re here about Hayden Mullins.”

She nods, “Oh yes…uh…come with me.” She leads you to the back and into her office, “Hayden was working the closing shift when he was abducted, I told him not to work it alone, but he was determined. Home isn’t the happiest place for him,” she explains, “I’d let him sleep here when his dad was making a ruckus, get some food in him. He’s a good kid; I don’t know why anyone would go after him.”

“Did he have any hostile interactions with customers in the days before he was taken?” you ask.

“Who doesn’t? Folks get real snappy when you can’t get them what they want.” She rubs her temple, “I had a customer scream at me 'cause we didn’t carry non-salted water,” she exclaims with quotation marks, “what the hell is non-salted water?”

Elle huffs and shakes her head, “What about friendly customers? Did you notice anyone who didn’t act the way you’d expect? Anyone who stood out for a different reason?”

Naomi purses her lips, “Now that you mention it,” she opens her desk and pulls out a file, “There was this one woman; she was nice, like really nice. She said she’d just come off a four-hour road trip, so we was ready for all sorts of tantrums, but….”

“But what?” Elle asks.

“She was sweet. Smiled at me and said it was alright when we couldn’t get her what she needed,” Naomi’s face scrunched up a little, “I was a little spooked if I’m being honest; I mean, I’ve had nice customers, but she was something else.” She shuddered, passing over the file to you, “I was gonna forget all about her, but….when she looked at Hayden,” she shook her head, “I got a bad feeling.”

Inside the file was a woman’s side profile - hair clipped back into a bun, light makeup from what you can note in the black and white frame, a neatly kept suit - for all intents and purposes, a regular businesswoman.

“Hayden was stocking the shelves, I think, and she got mad when he couldn’t man a checkout. Had to have her escorted from the premises, but she came back again —oh my god, do you think she—”

“We don’t know that yet, ma’am,” you interject, “this is still an ongoing investigation; we’re just looking into all the facts as of now.”

“Don’t blame yourself for anything that happened,” Elle tells her.

Naomi nods, “Promise me something, if…if anything happens, you’ll tell me before you tell the news, understand?” You both nod to her request and leave with the security footage and any receipts linked back to the woman.

“If this, April Walsh is our unsub,” Elle points to the picture, “it sounds like she doesn’t like to lose control, the ties, the refusal to fight, it was in the hands of the victims, it was anarchy….”

“....she can’t let it thrive,” you finish. “The store is already out of her comfort zone and control; what if she assigns roles to the people around her, say Naomi? Managers are notorious for allowing bad behavior, but when Naomi didn’t….” You get behind the wheel and drive while throwing around more theories.

“....she got angry. April told Naomi she came off a four-hour drive; how far is the last crime scene?” She pulls out her phone, and minutes later, she cheers, “Four hours, and eighteen minutes, it’s not much, but….”

“It’s something; let’s get back to Spencer and Gideon with the info.”

“Speaking of Spencer,” Elle chuckles, “a little birdy told me the two of you went out on a date.”

You groan and roll your eyes, “Seriously?”

“Come on, I mean, Derek’s been bragging that he got Mr. Lovebird and the Resident Genius together,” she quips, “plus, you two make a cute couple.”

You smile, “Thanks. At the very least, I know there’s another date somewhere in the future, so good things to come, I hope.”

“Oh, they’re definitely coming,” Elle remarks. You lightly smack her arm and laugh as you pull up to the local precinct. She raises her eyebrows when Spencer greets you laughing when you stick your tongue out at her.

“Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” he responds, grinning at you, “did you bring me anything?” he quips.

“How does a potential name for our unsub sound?” You give him the file, “and also, a few more details to add to the profile?”

“I’d say it sounds good,” Gideon responds with a small smile. You and Spencer huff, amused and bashful - Elle relays the theories you’d bounced off each other in the car as Spencer pins April’s image on the board, while Gideon does the same to catch you up on what he and Spencer discussed while you were away. “We can brief the officers when Hotch and Derek get back.”

“It’s about two things,” Gideon begins, facing the “control and entertainment. The unsub does not care for anyone but herself; at best, anyone outside of that is a form of entertainment and, at worst, an annoyance.” He points to April’s security image, “April Kennedy Walsh is a business consultant, highly sought after from what we’ve gathered, and meticulous with just about everything, from her schedule to her wardrobe.”

“Her method of murder calls back to the gladiatorial fights in the Colosseum; the emperor and the people of Rome would watch as gladiators fought with each other or animals,” Spencer adds, “she feels no remorse for her victims and rewards winners with their life. Refusing to fight for her amusement might insult her in some way, as though she were an actual Roman emperor.”

“She fits in easily with the crowd from a distance, but up close, her disregard peeks through during moments of loss of control. She’s not shown any violent behaviors during those times, but it can’t be ruled out,” Derek passes copies of April’s photos, “and judging by how she took little time to disguise herself in any way, she’s not afraid of being caught. In fact, this whole chase could be another form of entertainment for her, the same way you or I sit back and watch TV.”

“The potential want to be caught doesn’t mean she isn’t using an alias and could be a way to challenge us, so be on the lookout,” Gideon finished.

The officers split off after the debrief, and you gather back as a group, “There’s a few other Goodwills from the first and a bunch more in Pennsylvania; we can’t search them all,” Elle points out, “and even if we did, she’s patient, she could just as easily wait until the smoke blows over before coming back.”

“We don’t have much of a choice; handing out her photo to the media could cause her to abandon the hunt too, and then we’d have no easy way of finding Hayden,” you say, “there has to be some kind of pattern between the stores she chooses.”

“She chooses the same two stores for each pair of victims, always employees, never managers; after two pairs, she changes stores,” JJ reiterates, “what if she’s following the road? Picking whatever store she sees on her way?” She looks at the map, hand trailing over the red pins set on the previous stores, “The first incident was in Huntsville, Alabama, from there, and according to her schedule, she had been on a back-to-back business expose.”

You pick up blue pins and place them outside the border of the Appalachian Mountains, “In that two-year break period, she was in Lancaster, Ohio.” You put a pin there, “then Richmond, Virginia. Maybe, the two-year gap wasn’t by choice or lack of available victims.”

“Personal tragedy? But we couldn’t find anything like that,” JJ sighed, “then again, we could barely find anything about her personal life. Her parents are divorced, and when I called and asked about April, they hung up on me really quick.”

“What are you thinking?” You ask.

“Well, what if this disregard for people started early? Her mother was a judge, her father a surgeon; I’d say that’s enough money to cover up any accidents,” JJ theorizes, “both high-pressure jobs might have caused the divorce. But why not speak about their daughter?”

“One or both parents could have felt guilty, argued with the other about covering it up, then,” you shrug, “divorce?”

You dial Garcia’s number and wait as the tone rings, “Mistress of all knowledge, how may I enlighten you today?”

“Hey, gorgeous,” you greet, she scoffs on the other end, and you can imagine she’s rolling her eyes.

“Ah, my favorite work of art,” she greets back.

“We need to know if April has any juvenile records, sealed records, anything like that, and if her mother was involved in having them buried.”

“Okie dokie.” She types fast a few clicks later and, “Wow. I’ve found a couple of things, most of them cited as isolated incidents and common behavior among children, but one sticks out, November 23rd, 1999, the same year Judge Walsh resigned from her post.”

“She give any reason why?” You inquire.

“Nope.”

“Alright, thanks, Garcia.”

“Anytime.”

You relay the information, “The divorce happened the next year,” JJ mumbles, “let’s see if we can get those records open.”

November 23rd, 1999. April K. Walsh attended a camping trip near Lake Michigan; during a scavenger hunt, one of April’s buddies - Sam Goodwin - was found face down in the waters; the leading theory was Sam had gotten distracted and veered off the trail, with little experience swimming, Sam may have slipped into the water, panicked then subsequently drowned. The children had been paired into groups of three; the third child, Emma Chavez, had insisted that April had done it, and one detective had shot in the dark - months of investigation, and it looked like April would be facing time in a juvenile detention facility.

“What juvenile detention facility did she get sent to?” Gideon asks.

“None; close to the trial, the whole case fell apart; the next year, Judge Walsh resigned from her post and got a divorce.”

“Phone calls won’t cut it,” Hotch states, “we need her parents down here now.”

Joshua Walsh - now a retired surgeon- stayed close to Lake Michigan after the divorce and never remarried. Sofia Phillips - previously Sofia Walsh, post-divorce, she moved to Vermont, remarried, and had two more children before returning to work as a judge in a more minor position. Both refused to look each other in the eye; Joshua appeared more saddened, while Sofia was irritated.

“I’m sure you have a good reason for dragging me all the way here,” Sofia grumbled.

You knew very little of Sofia Phillips, but from what you could gauge, she held herself higher than others and regarded the investigation with about as much regard as buying the wrong flavor of juice.

“Yes, ma’am, we wanted to ask about your daughter, April,” Hotch replied.

“April? Please, I don’t have a daughter called April anymore.”

Joshua scoffed, “Yes, you do, April Kennedy Walsh,” he turned to her, pulling out his wallet with shaky hands; he riffled through it before holding a picture in her face. “She had your eyes, remember?”

“Yes, I also remember her being dead to me, Joshua,” Sofia responds, glancing away. “She was always troubled. I tried to be a good mother, but sometimes you just can’t beat that attitude out of them.” She crosses one leg over the other, “I thank god I was blessed with two wonderful children after her, kind, obedient, nothing like April.”

“Hypocrite much? Where do you think she got it from, huh?”

Sofia rolls her eyes and glances at Hotch, “Are we finished now? My son has a recital in a few hours.” Hotch nods, and she leaves without a second glance; Joshua stays seated, shaking his head with a sigh.

“April…she’s not a bad kid…just lost. Sofia and I didn’t expect to have kids that early…I mean, we coped, but our jobs….” He looks at the photo again, “I tried as best as I could to be there, but Sofia…I wish I did better."

Joshua reluctantly recounts the event of November 23rd, 1999, alongside his divorce and any other moments before and after that point. The Appalachian Mountains had been Joshua’s dream destination, Sofia, to no surprise, had constantly been vocal about instilling the appropriate life goals in April - high grades, top careers, appropriate connections. The stores chosen all had qualities Sofia had cited as detestable, with Pennsylvania’s first Goodwill reminding her too much of her least favorite architecture - brutalist architecture. So going off that, the next Goodwill would have to be similar in style as well. This new detail leads to a few counties over.

April Walsh doesn’t fight when caught; appearing exhausted, the only other emotion she shows is a mix of relief and joy when she sees Mr. Walsh again, but it’s brief. She sits without prompting, crosses a leg over the other, and makes her only demand, “I��d like to speak to my father—”

“Give us Hayden,” Hotch counters.

“Who? Oh, the retail worker,” she scoffs, “he’s perfectly safe, tied and unconscious in room 345, Liberty Hotel. Now, can I please talk to my father?” Hotch nods, leaving for Hayden with everyone but Gideon and Reid. Hayden is unharmed, drowsy, and confused when he awakes.

You slump into your seat on the airplane, Spencer sits by you, and you lean your head against his shoulder. “No one wake me up for anything,” Derek mumbles across from you, lying across two seats to nap.

“You look bored, cookie.” Spencer glances over at you; the others on the plane have either gone to sleep or relaxed in their seats.

“Maybe, but I’m not sure there’s much to do in an airplane.”

“We could play a game —not that kind,” you remark; he’d raised his eyebrows, and a light blush had dusted his cheeks, “we can do that at a later date, Dr. Reid. Right now, I was thinking of something like the ABC game.”

“ABC game?”

You sit up, “On long car rides, my grandma loved to play it; we choose a topic or theme and go through the alphabet. Say the theme was food, I’d say apricot; then you’d say bread; we can narrow down themes like food to fruits or vegetables.”

“Ooh, that sounds interesting; ok, what’s the theme?” he asks, turning towards you.

“We can stick with food; it’s pretty easy and fun for a first-timer,” you reply, “We’ve got apricot and bread down, so, C, carrot cake.”

“Ok, donut.”

“Éclair.”

“French onion soup.”

You breeze through the first round, and Spencer picks the next theme - countries - which you manage through a quarter of before landing; you carry on while on the tarmac and finish just before leaving for home. It’s late afternoon in Quantico; Spencer bumps his hand against yours as you walk, smiling when you hold his hand in response. Paperwork is easy enough, and once done, you collectively sigh in relief when no other case comes up. It’s not night yet, and hearing everyone else make plans or detail what they have in mind when they leave has Spencer debating on whether to have that second date now.

“Thinking hard?” You ask, laughing when he comes out of his thoughts to find you standing close to him.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, “do you…uh…can we have that second date now? I know this great Indian restaurant, it’s a bit out of the way, but it has very good chicken tandoori.”

“Sure, lead the way.”

The restaurant is nice, getting there just half an hour after it opens at 5:00 PM; there’s plenty of space to choose from; Spencer leads you to his favorite seat by the fish tank. It’s a nice date; Spencer finds his legs close to yours after you split the bill, leaving just after seven. “Did you like it?”

“Loved it,” you respond. “You sure know how to treat a man, sweetheart.”

Spencer tugs at your arm, smiling into the kiss you give him. “Goodnight, love.”

Spencer is soft.

It’s what you repeatedly note - when he smiles, leans into your space for a kiss, or drums your fingers along your hands. When he snuffles in his sleep, a moment before waking up, “Morning….” he’d mumble before dozing off for a few odd minutes.

“Good morning to you, too,” you kiss his forehead, and he mumbles something else, snuggling deeper into your arms. “What happened to the early bird catches the worm, hmm?”

“....not a bird…no worms please….” he mumbles.

“Hmm,” you respond, rubbing circles along his back, “How about pancakes? I think I might have some blueberries or chocolate chips,” you muse; Spencer peeks up at you. “Ah, I see I’ve piqued your interest.” You laugh as Spencer ponders between the comfort of the bed and the prospect of pancakes. You leave him to his decision-making; by the time you’ve made the batter, Spencer shuffles from the bedroom - donning one of your hoodies and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Spencer hugs you from the back and pecks the space between your shoulder blades, “Süss,” he says.

You purse your lips and glance over your shoulder at him, “Süss? Come on; I thought you liked a challenge?” You switch off the stove and turn to face him, “German. Sweet.”

“I wasn’t looking for a challenge today,” he clarifies, “I was stating a fact.” He points at you as he repeats the word. “Mein süss.”

You grin, “I’d say you’re the sweet one, cookie.” He scrunches his nose, “Mein süßer Keks.” You wink when he stares at you, “You’re not the only one with a knack for languages.” He sticks out his tongue, leaving the kitchen with the pancakes; you join him at the dining table - he sits with his back to the window, soaking in the sun like a cat.

“Fun fact, chocolate chips melt best at temperatures between 104 °F and 113 °F; the melting process starts at 90 °F when the chips’ cocoa butter starts to heat. For milk and white chocolate chips, the temperature shouldn’t exceed 115 °F; for dark chocolate, it’s 120 °F; otherwise, the chocolate will burn.”

You nod, “Which flavor’s your favorite?”

“The classic chips, made from small chunks of sweetened chocolate, I like to eat them in winter when there’s less chance for them to melt in the bag,” he answers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind, but I suppose I prefer the classic ones too.” The pancakes were long gone by now, and coffees almost finished; Spencer had come previously to visit but never slept over before, “How’d you sleep?” You ask, placing your arm around his shoulders.

“Good,” he yawns, “you’re really comfortable.” You chuckle as Spencer snuggles closer, “Can we go back to bed?” He asks with another yawn.

“Hmm,” you stand, “you head on in; I’ll take care of the dishes.” He nods, shuffling back to the bedroom; you gather the dishes, rinse off the food, place them in the dishwasher, and leave them to clean. You find Spencer nestled comfortably under the blankets; when you slide in alongside him, he latches onto you, not fully asleep and not fully lucid. You comb your fingers through his hair, and when his breath evens out, you close your own eyes and doze off.

End Note:

This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, and also, not that I think it needs mentioning, but this and the previous fic takes place somewhere in season one. Stay Hydrated.

#spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #smart cookie universe :)#shiterequests #this is my reward for finishing my assignment :) i say as i ignore the other assignments. i couldn't find cookie love quotes or titles :(

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kiss-me-cill-me · 4 months

Text

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 3

Start with Pt. 1 HERE! ~ Jump back to previous Pt. 2 HERE!

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Lucien continues to be a slight jerk, lots of awkward fluff, some sexually suggestive scenes/dialogue, fade-to-black style end of chapter

A/N: I apologize to anyone who's lactose intolerant, both for the choice of drink in this chapter and for the sheer levels of cheesiness.

It did snow that weekend, and heavily. Neil’s movie pick turned out to be perfect for the frosty atmosphere. You curled up on your couch and popped the VHS in, holding a hot drink with your fingers wrapped tightly around the mug to warm yourself.

It was an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon. Though, you found yourself wishing that Neil could be curled up on the couch next to you. He seemed like the type who would have all sorts of fun trivia, and be able to spout off every movie that each actor had been in previously. That night, your mind sifted through fantasies of the two of you, cooped up together, sheltering out a storm. Preferably with less dire consequences than had been in The Shining.

The next morning, the world was awash with sparkly white. Although it took a few hours from the time you woke up to actually be able to see anything; of course, it was still dark by the time you were unlocking the door to your cafe. But slowly, the early morning’s pink light crept over the snow dunes, until finally everything outside your window looked almost blindingly bright. The reflection of the ice crystals somehow made winter feel just a little less harsh.

At around nine, Lucien came into your shop, ordered his usual, and reached across the counter to accept the paper cup and marker you offered him. You were already getting used to his idiosyncrasies.

“So, I know Neil wouldn’t want me to tell you this,” Lucien began, marking an elegant cursive “L” on the cup as he began to write his name. “But I feel like it’s my responsibility as the foil-slash-trickster character in his life to do it anyway.”

You smiled, but furrowed your brows. You had no idea what Lucien was talking about. Was he always this… cinematic when getting involved in other people’s business?

“Okayyy…” you replied.

Lucien passed the cup and marker back to you, and you started getting his order ready.

“You know Neil has a huge crush on you, right?” Lucien deadpanned.

“Umm…”

Your words failed you, and you froze with your hand in the jar of espresso beans, halfway through digging out a scoop. Lucien continued, undeterred.

“Before you mistake me for some kind of hopeless romantic,” he said, “I’m really just doing this to advance the plot past the ‘Neil fawns over his clueless love interest’ point. I’m sick of listening to him lament over whether or not he should ask you out.”

“W-why tell me instead of just pushing Neil to do it, then?” you asked.

“Oh, don’t worry - I’m playing this from both angles,” replied Lucien. “But if you’re not interested, I can tell Neil-”

“No!” you blurted, a little too quickly. “I mean, uh, you really don’t have to get involved…”

“Mm-hmm,” hummed Lucien, slowly. “Well, if you’ve got the balls to make a move, could you do it sooner than later? I can really only watch Neil make puppy-dog eyes out the window for so long.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Neil, elbow resting on the counter and hand holding up his chin while he sighed, longingly. It was a dramatic image, but it seemed to fit him. You stifled a smile.

You handed Lucien his coffee and told him to have a good day, not making any promises about Neil. But of course, you were secretly brimming with excitement over the knowledge that he liked you back. You had spent plenty of time fawning after him the past few days. But you hadn’t allowed yourself to seriously consider the notion that he might feel the same way you did. Your heart sang as you swept the floor of your little coffee shop, and you hummed while you worked, lungs filling with anticipation.

That afternoon, you had a few errands to run after closing up your shop, but you made it a point to stop by Gumshoe so that you could return Neil’s video. More as an excuse to see him than anything, but the back of your mind wondered if maybe you should take Lucien’s advice and make a move. What kind of move, you had no idea - and you still didn’t have a plan as you pushed open the door of Neil’s store, making the little bell ring with your arrival.

“Hey, you’re back!” exclaimed Neil, hunched over behind the counter.

He came out to greet you, standing at an awkward distance that was a bit too close for regular friendliness but too far to offer you a hug.

“Oh boy, coffee girl,” Lucien called from the couch, keeping up appearances on his antagonistic role.

“Ignore Lucien,” Neil told you, smiling in a way that made your heart do somersaults.

“I usually try to, unless I’m selling him coffee,” you joked, suddenly self-conscious about coming across as too mean.

Neil laughed, though, and your anxieties melted away. At least for a second, until he fixed you with a conspiratorial look that had your stomach in knots to match your pounding heart.

“I won’t say anything if you want to start triple charging him,” Neil said lowly.

“I can hear you!” Lucien shouted.

Lucien’s outburst broke the tension, and you and Neil were laughing easily with each other again. You wondered if it was just your imagination that something felt different between you now, as if there were many things left unsaid. Had Lucien told Neil that you liked him back? Probably. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, if it really did help get you past the awkward pining phase.

“So, what brings you in today?” asked Neil. Was it your imagination, or did he seem more nervous than usual?

“I’m here to return your VHS,” you replied, pulling the tape out of your bag. “Don’t want any late fees, right?”

“Wow, you watched it already?”

“Yep, and it was just as atmospheric as you said.” You smiled as you added, “But very creepy; I wish I hadn’t watched it alone.”

You were hoping that Neil would pick up on the hint, but instead he frowned a little as he took the tape from you.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh no,” you hurried to assure him. “I just mean I wish I’d had someone to watch it with.”

From the couch, Lucien coughed loudly. Neil, oblivious, still didn’t get the hint.

“Well, next time I’ll pick something less scary,” he promised. Your heart sank a little, but brightened when he said, “So, when can I stop by for my next drink so I’ll owe you another movie?”

There was something strangely endearing about hearing him so eager to be indebted to you. You remembered how Lucien had described Neil as having puppy-dog eyes, and now you could definitely picture it. The way he was looking at you, so much excitement over the idea of recommending a movie for you to watch.

“How about right now?” you offered. You were also eager to snatch up the opportunity. “The cafe’s closed, but I could whip you up something. I have an idea I think you’ll really like.”

You looked up at Neil through your eyelashes, trying to act a little demure. Knowing that he had a crush on you made you bolder.

“Sure,” Neil agreed, a smile lighting up his face. “Just let me grab my coat.”

You followed him to the door, and watched as he shrugged into his jacket and put on a wool hat. Before leaving, Neil called over his shoulder.

“Lucien! You’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Lucien gave a thumbs-up, and threw you a knowing look. You were grateful that Neil had already turned around, pushing through the door before holding it open for you. It was already dark outside, and the streetlights illuminated the fresh snow as you walked down the street to your shop.

Neil kicked at a snowdrift as he walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. You mirrored him, shoving your hands deep into the folds of your coat, even though you wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his fingers around yours.

“I’m excited to see what you have planned,” Neil said.

It took you a moment to realize he was talking about the drink. Your breath puffed out in front of you as you spoke.

“I think you’ll really like this one,” you replied. “Very sweet; just like you.”

You glanced over to see Neil’s cheeks turn bright red. Maybe it was just the chilly air…

“I remember you said that the first time we met, too,” Neil laughed. “That I was sweet. You still think so, huh?”

“I do,” you replied, letting your shoulder bump against his as you walked. “But only because it’s true.”

You reached the front of your shop, and you bent down to twist your key in the lock. A burst of warm air rushed out when you opened the door.

“Come on in and warm up,” you told Neil. “Your face is red.”

Neil’s cheeks blushed an even deeper shade. That time was definitely not from the cold. He stepped in, and you followed, shutting the door behind you.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Neil smiled as you hung up your scarf. “Can we make this one a double and share a drink while I take you on a walk? I know a really nice park around here.”

You liked the sound of that. Being new to the area, you hadn’t had a lot of time to explore, and spending more time with Neil was something you wouldn’t say no to.

“That’s a great idea,” you beamed. “Two caramel hot chocolates, coming up.”

Neil seemed to perk up at your mention of hot chocolate. He followed you over to the counter as you stepped behind it to whip up your latest attempt at finding a drink that Neil would enjoy. You figured that everyone liked hot chocolate; unlike coffee, it was almost guaranteed to be universally loved. You poured the drinks into two to-go cups, and added whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce to each.

“That looks amazing.”

Neil was practically drooling, and you knew you had hit on something good.

“See, this is why you should have just told me in the first place what you like,” you teased.

“But if I had, would we ever have seen each other again after that first night?” Neil countered.

He had a point.

“Probably, but… maybe you wouldn’t have ended up lending me that movie,” you relented.

“Exactly.” Neil took an eager sip, and licked at the whipped cream stuck to his lip. “And then, things might have turned out differently. A little chaos always leads to better adventures.”

It was an interesting thought, and you smiled as you recalled all the little swirls of chaos that Neil had added to your life. Even in the short time since you’d met him, life seemed a little more exciting and fun. He was different from you, but that was a good thing.

“Is that something Lucien says?” you guessed.

“Jonathan, actually,” Neil admitted. “Although Lucien is an agent of chaos.”

You laughed, and carried your own drink to the front door. Neil trailed behind you, shrugging his jacket back on.

“Come on, let’s get going before things get too chaotic around here,” you joked. “I was promised a nice walk through the park. And unlike some people, I’m not against saying that that’s exactly what I want.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck, and you and Neil once again braved the chilly air, with hot drinks now in hand. The warmth seeped through your gloves, keeping your fingers comfortably guarded against the frigid temperature. As you took a sip, the hot chocolate warmed you from the inside as well, and you felt content as Neil guided you down the street toward the little park. As you got close, you caught glimpses of bright lights sparkling in the dark.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped as they fully came into view. “So pretty.”

The trees, bare of their leaves, had been wrapped in twinkling yellow lights. The whole park was full of them, and the beautiful display seemed to shine over the fresh snow. The effect was dazzling. Neil gave you a little nudge.

“Pretty like you.”

As he prodded you with his elbow, it was suddenly your turn to get flustered. You felt your face heat up, and looked down at your cup of hot chocolate so that Neil wouldn’t see you smiling.

You walked together in silence for a few minutes, taking in the spectacle.

“So,” Neil’s voice cut through the chilly air, breath still puffing in front of him. “I’m sure you’ve probably already figured this out, but… I really like you.”

Your heart flipped with joy. Hearing the words come out of Neil’s own mouth was enough to send you soaring.

“Lucien… might have told me,” you admitted.

Neil laughed, an adorable little chuckle of embarrassment that made you fall a bit harder for him. He stopped walking and turned to face you, setting his paper cup down on the freshly-shoveled pathway. You did the same, wanting your hands free for whatever was going to happen next.

“Well,” Neil continued, “I hope he at least didn’t tell you about this. I got you a little gift.”

Neil reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, offering it to you.

“Since I technically still owe you for that first coffee,” he said.

You opened the box, and a smile spread across your face. Inside was a pair of tiny charms on a gold chain. One was a little coffee cup, and the other was a VHS tape. The gesture was so adorable you were scared that your heart might burst.

“Neil, this is so cute!” you cried. “It’s us!”

A look of relief washed over Neil’s face.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said.

“Of course I do. Neil, you really are the sweetest.”

A gust of sudden, frigid air blew through the park, causing you both to shrink into yourselves. Neil pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to keep out the chill. You laughed.

“But you still don’t bundle up as much as you should,” you teased.

You took a step closer to Neil, untucking your scarf and wrapping it around the both of you. Your forehead pressed against his as you stood, bundled together against the cold. The frosty tip of Neil’s nose touched yours when you looked up at him.

“Maybe I just like having an excuse to share scarves with you,” Neil teased back.

His hands were shoved back in his pockets, and you moved a little closer, wishing he would put his arms around you.

“You know, you don’t actually owe me for that coffee,” you said softly. “I told you, the first one was free so you’d get addicted.”

Finally, Neil reached out and held you by the waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Well, I did get addicted to something, but it wasn’t the coffee…”

Your eyes closed, and Neil pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the sweetness of caramel as he kissed you, his warm arms wrapping around you a little tighter.

Neil’s eyes were still half-lidded when you pulled away. You felt your cheeks burn again.

“So does this mean you like me, too?” Neil asked.

You giggled, the cold puff of your breath evaporating between you.

“Neil, you can be so dense,” you teased.

You leaned in for a second kiss, just as sweet as the first.

“Okay, I’m going to assume that’s a ‘yes,’” Neil breathed.

You nodded happily.

“This might be a bit forward, but… what do you say we get out of the cold?” you asked, reaching up to take hold of Neil’s collar as you pressed your body against him.

“You mean like… head back to my place?”

You nodded again, smiling as you bit your lip.

“Oh. Yeah. Yes - definitely,” Neil answered.

He was so cute when he was flustered. You kissed him again, a little more passionately, and felt something start to press against you. You broke the kiss to tease Neil a little more, unable to help yourself.

“Is that a VHS in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Possibly… both?” Neil replied.

Your laughter echoed through the night air as you wrapped your arms tightly around Neil’s neck, throwing your head back. Being with him felt so freeing. Like you could laugh and joke and be yourself, so easily, while Neil did the same.

“Let’s get going, then,” you whispered. “A little chaos makes the best adventures, right?”

Read Pt. 4 HERE!

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #LemmyFics

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greg-montgomery · 1 year

Text

Ivy - Part 8

gif by @ssahotstuff <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Chapter summary: :)

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

How were you supposed to leave your little heaven with him? The two of you at the breakfast table; you sitting in his lap, his strong arms around you…You wanted this morning to last forever.

“Come on, last bite,” Aaron said, bringing the last pancake piece to your lips, after soaking it in all the syrup that was left on the plate.

You laughed but indulged him anyway, opening your mouth for him.

As you chewed on your pancake, you took a moment to observe him. He was grinning at you, his eyes sparkling. He was happy.

Considering his past, you wondered how long it had been since the last time he’d been this happy. You were proud to be the one to make him smile again.

Aaron dropped the fork back on the plate so he could grab your face with his hand.

“Hey,” you protested with a giggle, wrapping your hands around his wrist to stop him. “Get your sticky fingers away from my face.”

He was of course stronger than you, so he was released from your grip in one second. “Those sticky fingers were inside you less than an hour ago, miss,” he answered, managing to grab your face with his left hand like he first intended.

“Ass,” you said, furrowing your brows, but he cut you off with a kiss.

You melted against him, your brain emptying completely from any thoughts of possible syrup on your skin.

Maybe it was weird, but you opened your eyes for a few seconds. You wanted to see him, to remind yourself that it was your Aaron you were kissing and not Sean.

As harsh at it sounded, Sean was never going to touch you again. Not after him.

Once your kiss was over, Aaron’s eyes weren’t sparkling anymore.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, running your fingers through the hair on his temples.

“Y/N, I want you to break up with him,” he said.

“I will. I told you last night I’ve made my decision.”

“I mean I want you to do it today.”

“Baby,” you said softly, taking his hand and placing it on your cheek, “I was already planning on it. As soon as I get home I’m gonna talk to him.”

“Okay,” he nodded his head in understanding. “I’ll come with you if you want. We can talk to him toge-”

“No,” you stopped him. “That’s just gonna make him furious. It’ll be better if it’s just me.”

“Alright.”

You kissed his lips sweetly.

“I’m sorry if I seem pressing,” he said. “But I can’t stand the thought of him touching you or kissing you or considering you his anymore.”

“I can’t either. And you don’t have to apologize for asking this from me. It’s the right thing to do anyway. Well, the right thing considering…” You paused, letting out a heavy sigh.

You spoke again. “Aaron?”

“Hmm?”

“Real talk?”

“Go ahead.”

“You know that what we’ve done to him is unforgivable, right? I mean…you do realize that if you decide to be with me, you lose your brother forever?”

“Of course I realize that,” he said.

“And?”

“And I love and care about Sean, but I truly don’t think I can live without you. When we stopped talking after your birthday…it hurt like hell.”

Your eyes closed and you brought his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles.

“I’m losing an ex-boyfriend, but you’re losing your brother. This is so unfair to you,” you whispered.

“We’re both responsible for this. I knew what I was sacrificing, but it didn’t stop me. Don’t feel bad for me.”

“I feel bad for all three of us. But I’d do it a million times again,” you admitted.

“I would, too,” he answered with honesty.

You rested your cheek on his shoulder, trying as much as you could to enjoy the calm before the storm.

The ache in your stomach and your chest made it hard for you to focus. You were trying to rehearse what you’d tell Sean. How would you open the conversation? Would you tell him that there’s someone else? Would you tell him that this someone else was Aaron? No answer seemed to be the right one.

You took a deep breath and unlocked the door. Sean was home like you expected, sitting on the couch. It was a familiar sight to you: him watching TV, his feet on the coffee table. For a split second, things almost felt normal.

“Hey,” you said with a weak voice, walking in.

After hearing your voice, he immediately turned the television off and stood up. His blank expression made you nervous.

“Where were you all night?”

You were already shaking by his question. No, you couldn’t tell him where you were.

“Didn’t you get my texts?”

Silence.

He knew.

Sean knew, and your heart was ready to beat out of your chest.

“Please tell me it’s not who I think it is,” he said through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t deny it. So you said nothing.

He exhaled through his nose, his lips pressed together. “Y/N, please tell me it’s not Aaron or I’m gonna burn the house down.”

Tears filled your eyes but you were still unable to speak.

“Tell me,” he said, “if I undress you right now will I find marks from him?”

“Sean,” you pleaded, your tears rolling down your face.

“I’m gonna kill him,” he yelled, hitting his fist against the wall.

You’d never seen him like that before and it scared you. You didn’t know what to do. Apologizing would be pointless. Trying to defend yourself would be hypocritical.

“Say something, for fuck’s sake!”

“I don’t know what to say,” you broke.

“Out of all the men in the world,” he said, his voice now low as he walked towards you. “Out of all the men in the world,” he repeated, “he’s the one you chose to fuck.”

‘It’s not like that’ you wanted to say. But what would be the point in that?

“You disgust me,” he said, looking down at you. “I never expected from you to betray me this way.”

You lowered your head, staring at your shoes.

“When did it start?”

When had it started? Was it that first dinner with him? Was it the first text? The first hug?

Maybe it was the moment you opened the door and saw him for the first time.

“Answer me. When did it start?” he repeated. “When did he touch you for the first time?”

“My birthday,” you admitted.

“Your birthday…”

If only you could dig a hole on the ground and hide yourself in it.

“Of course you chose him,” he said, wandering around the living room with his hands on his hips. “Aaron the mature one,” he spat out. You suspected he was about to fall into his familiar self-hate pattern. “Aaron with the important job. Aaron with the real money. Aaron with the cute son and the perfect dead wife.”

His words made you realize that Aaron was all the things Sean was insecure about. Maybe you had done an even bigger damage to him than you thought.

“Please don’t do this,” you said, softly.

“Tell me this,” he said and turned to stare at you. “When you leave our place and you go to him, how is life gonna be? Are you gonna live happily ever after? Hm? Are you going to feel guilty at all? Are you two going to come up with a lie to tell people when they ask you how you met?”

His questions hurt.

“And what about Jack? He’s old enough to understand. How are you going to explain to him that his uncle’s girlfriend is suddenly daddy’s?”

He exaggerated the way he pronounced the word ‘daddy’ and it felt as if he was mocking Jack. You knew he wasn’t, you knew he was simply angry and hurt, but you felt protective of him anyway.

“Do not bring Jack into this,” you said, coldly.

“Already taken up the role of the stepmother I see. Good job. Maybe he’ll keep you around longer if you’re good to his kid.”

“That’s enough.”

“I agree,” Sean answered. “Pack any stuff you can for now and get the hell out of here. You have another place to stay. I don’t.”

You did as he said.

You didn’t cry while packing your things. You didn’t cry as you were driving back to Aaron’s place. But you sobbed, the moment he opened his door and you dropped everything, falling into his arms.

“Aaron,” you cried, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Shh…baby,” he said, petting your hair. “Let’s go inside.”

He took your bags and carried them into his house, rushing to get back to you as fast as possible.

“Did he snap at you?” Aaron carefully asked once you were both settled on the couch.

“Of course he did,” you sniffed and wiped your nose with your sleeve. “And I can’t blame him.”

He pushed your hair back and looked at you, nodding his head. “We’re the bad guys in this story. That’s something we have to accept and live with,” he said, kindly.

“I know. God… all the things he said to me…it hurt hearing them, no matter how prepared I was for the worst,” you said.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could take it all away and make everything okay,” he whispered and pressed a sweet kiss against your forehead.

“I don’t regret you, Aaron,” you reassured him.

“I know you don’t, my sweet girl.”

“We’ll be okay, right?” you asked.

“Of course we will,” he answered, offering you a comforting smile. You didn’t have the energy to smile back.

“Hey, look at me,” he said, his fingers on your chin. You looked at him with teary eyes. “We’ll figure everything out, my love. We’re in this together, remember?”

You nodded before kissing his cheek. ‘You’re worth it all,’ you thought, feeling that deep ache of guilt and shame in your heart.

Aaron was devastated, even though he had been putting all of his acting abilities into work to conceal it. The way you cried in his arms, the way he could feel you blaming and hating yourself for what you had done to Sean, were enough to break his heart.

Honestly, what was he expecting? For you to walk into his house with a grin and then get on your knees to celebrate with him your breakup with his brother?

Of course you felt guilty. Of course you needed time. You both did, it was normal. As hard of a pill as it was to swallow, the truth was: you were a cheater and he was a traitor. Things were never meant to be easy for you.

He just wished he could somehow carry all this weight by himself.

And Sean…there was no going back now. He had lost his little brother forever. For you, he’d do anything, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Any chance of a decent relationship with him had forever been ruined.

Aaron wasn’t a part of his brother’s every day life, but he was there when he needed him. He was there to catch him every time he’d fall. And Sean knew that.

But Sean wasn’t going to reach out to him when he’d be in trouble anymore. That scared Aaron.

It wasn’t the fact that he’d miss him that made his heart ache the most, it was the fact that his little brother would be left all alone.

The next day you called in sick to work so you could go to Sean’s, pack every single one of your things, and get it over with. Aaron wasn’t on a case, so he decided to work from home. It calmed his mind to know that he’d be there when you’d return. Maybe he could ask Jessica to bring Jack home earlier. The three of you could watch a silly movie together and you’d smile again. He knew you would.

Aaron’s phone rang interrupting his thoughts. He answered without checking the number that was calling.

“Hotchner.”

“Hey,” Sean’s voice said from the other line.

“Sean,” he said, surprised.

“Is Y/N with you?”

Aaron’s heart dropped at his words. He didn’t like where this was going. “No. I thought she was with you. She said she’d be picking up the rest of her stuff.”

“Yeah, that was the plan. She texted me almost two hours ago she’d be here in ten minutes but she still isn’t.”

“Did you call her?” Aaron rushed to say.

“Yeah, but her phone is off.”

“Wait, did she call you and say that she’d be there in ten?” he asked again, his thoughts messy from worry.

“No. She messaged me this. It was ten thirty and now it’s after twelve and I still haven’t heard from her.” He paused. “It’s strange, right?”

Aaron couldn’t reply. He didn’t want to admit that it was extremely unlike you to disappear like that.

“Aaron, should I be worried?”

“Wait there, I’m coming over.”

He dialed your number immediately, while running to his car. Your phone was off like Sean said. There was no way your phone had run out of battery. He specifically remembered you charging it before you went to bed.

‘Please, sweetheart’ he silently begged. ‘Please don’t make me go through this nightmare again.’

As soon as he was into his car he called the only person who could give him some answers.

“Garcia, I want you to check every hospital in the area for the name Y/N L/N.”

“Wait, sir, isn’t that…”

He made an attempt to inhale deeply in order to calm himself down but the air didn’t fill his lungs. “It is.”

Part 9

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#aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #sean hotchner x reader #hotch 🪐#ivy

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