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#i am very tired but at least i finished this right on time
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Flame of Autumn - Chapter 16
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Part 17/26 | Ao3
Eris
It had been a week since the worst and best day of their lives thus far, and Eris was fighting every single base urge the mating bond thrust upon him each time he saw his mate and knew she was pregnant with their child. He’d barely let her leave the room since, both because of the sudden protective streak he was experiencing, but also because it had triggered something feral in him that required him to pull her naked body back into their bed every time she tried to depart it. She would giggle and they’d resume right where they left off, touching and laughing and exploring each other again. It was like they were experiencing the frenzy of the bond all over again, but Eris wasn’t complaining. 
He knew this couldn’t last–knew something would disturb this fragile, glorious peace–but gods, he wanted it to.  
That morning, a letter had arrived in their rooms requesting his presence in the throne room at sunrise, and he was regretting his duties every second he spent not in bed with Tilly. She was still sleeping, bordered by dogs on each side, as he kissed her gently and left their rooms. He knew she’d been tired lately, and he wasn’t going to wake her for no reason. He left a note with her breakfast, remembering fondly the first time he’d done so, and tried to make this one a bit sweeter. 
Good morning, beautiful creature 
You simply looked too peaceful to wake, and I hope you’re having wonderful dreams–of me, obviously. I brewed your favorite tea, set to stay heated, as well as procuring more chocolate tarts. I’ll be back in an hour or so. 
All my love, 
E
He tucked it under the pillow when he set her tray on the night table, taking another look at her and wondering how he’d possibly lucked into this. Beron aside, he didn’t know how anyone could have received such fortune in life. Perhaps the universe was finally allowing him a reprieve in exchange for the previous five centuries of torture. 
He walked to the throne room, cracking his neck as he went and preparing mentally for whatever Beron had in mind. He tried to smother the happiness he felt so it wouldn’t show on his face, letting that steel mask slide into place as it always did. He walked in with purpose, sketched a bow, and rose. 
“How may I be of service, father?”
“I need you in Dawn Court to finish brokering the deal for the new adaptive armor we commissioned.” Eris was aware of this deal. Thesan had agreed, after much negotiation, to create armor for the soldiers of Autumn. It had certain specifications in mind, made them stronger, heat resistant, and less likely to melt in the case of an onslaught of fire magic. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, but Eris hadn’t done much with it at this point. It wasn’t a particularly difficult trip, though. They might even be able to stop by Day Court and talk to Helion before returning home. 
“Yes, father. When will we be leaving?” 
“Tomorrow morning. You will need to go alone, and be subtle there. I don’t want to risk anyone seeing you and thinking we’re brokering some type of alliance. That’s the last thing we need.” Eris was immediately uncomfortable with Tilly being left behind, his instincts roaring within him to stay nearby and protect her, protect their baby.
“Understood, father.” 
“I will be off to the mortal lands for meetings with the human queens.” This information did shock Eris, but he kept his expression schooled. 
“The human queens? I did not realize we were still in contact after the mishap with Brialyn.” 
“Yes, I am building contacts with them. More allies can never hurt, especially not when they have a tense relationship with the Night Court.” Beron leered in a way that sent a chill through Eris. At least Beron would be far from Tilly in his absence. “Do not disappoint me, Eris. This is a very simple deal, and I need it to go through without any issues.” Eris simply bowed. 
“Yes, father.” 
On his way back to their rooms to pack, he thought about how he might approach the meeting with Helion. He could send a parchment from Day that was unlikely to be intercepted begging for an audience, then go straight there after Day to speak with him. He could see if Helion would be willing to at least help break the charm preventing Beron from being poisoned so that they could try again. Truly, he knew Helion wouldn’t do anything to compromise Alanna’s sons, as much as he hated Beron. He knew he’d be safe in Day, even if he wasn’t well-liked. He could explain the situation to Helion, and perhaps he would warm more if he knew the details. As a last resort, he could even exchange his knowledge of Lucien. Eris didn’t like it for anyone’s sake, least of all his mother’s, and he hoped it wouldn’t come to that. 
Tilly had just risen when Eris returned. She was sitting there on the still-ruffled bed, eating her pastries. She smiled at him as he came inside, and Eris thought he’d never seen anything quite so beautiful. Her red hair was tousled, waving lazily in the low light, and she was wearing a silk dressing gown that slipped deliciously off one freckled shoulder. 
“Got your note!” She held it up with a grin. “Thank you for the tea and tarts. I might live off tea and tarts if you let me.” He laughed as he came and sat on the side of the bed, giving her a kiss and tasting the chai and chocolate on her lips. 
“I’m surprised the dogs aren’t here begging.” He’d practically had to pry Hestia away from Tilly this past week. She and Cinder had become incredibly protective, going nearly everywhere she went and growling at anyone else who got too close. 
“I gave them their breakfast a bit ago and I may have given them some sausages to get a little reprieve.” Her smile turned guilty as she said it, but her eyes were filled with mischief. He reached up, letting his hand graze her jaw lightly. 
“I have to go away for a few days.” Her face dropped at the news, worry creasing her brow. 
“Why? I can’t come?” He knew she would worry–he understood. 
“It’s just a few days in Dawn. I need to finish a deal for Beron, who will, blessedly, also be gone from the Forest House.” Tilly breathed a deep sigh of relief. 
“Well, that’s not so terrible. Despite missing you while you’re gone.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. 
“I’ll be missing you every moment I am away. Perhaps you and my mother can spend some time together. I know she blooms when he’s gone, and it’ll keep you company, too.” She smiled and nodded. 
“I’d like that.” 
“And you’re good to keep the glamours up while I’m away?”
“Yes, I can do it. Not like I’d be using any other magic without you here.” She laughed a little, and he relented, kissing her again. A few quick pecks turned slower, more sensual. He could never get enough of her, and he knew that no measure of time would satisfy him. He trailed the kisses down her chest, sending all the love and affection that burned through the pathways of his heart down the bond and into her as she inhaled deeply. 
He pressed a kiss to the spot beneath her navel as she sighed in contentment. He inhaled, loving the mix of flames and oranges that washed over him. It was going to be the longest few days of his life. 
“Are you absolutely sure you’ll be alright while I’m gone? Perhaps I can figure out a way–”
“Eris, it’s fine. I have spent so much of my life by myself. I can manage a few days.” He pouted, putting on a dramatic show for her as she laughed. 
“I am hoping to get a letter to Helion. Perhaps he might be able to help.” Her expression sobered as she sat back up, Eris rising with her to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. 
“Let’s hope he will.” 
Tilly
Tilly rolled stiffly across the bed, bumping the sleeping dogs and earning grumbles as she did. 
“Oh, hush. I can’t help it that I can’t sleep. You’re the ones choosing to be here, anyway.” Eris had been gone for a day now, and she missed him sorely, but it was so much worse at night. She hated sleeping away from him–had grown so used to his warm body curved around hers that she couldn’t sleep without him here. Even with three dogs on the bed, she felt cold and lonely. She rolled again, tugging the bond lovingly and sending sweet thoughts through that mighty ribbon to him. It took barely a moment before she felt it echoing back, his amusement–likely at her still being awake–dancing around with love and devotion. 
At this distance, the bond was so incredibly faint–delayed, even–but she was glad for it only to know he was safe and to have that small bit of comfort. She and Alanna had done tea in the garden that afternoon which had been a nice reprieve, especially with the lack of Beron’s overbearing guard lingering over them like a dark cloud. Tilly loved how much lighter the Lady of Autumn was when she wasn’t being chained down by Beron’s presence, but it made it so much more painful to see her locked back down upon his return. 
They’d discussed flowers and the weather, and Alanna had tentatively mentioned the upcoming solstice, but nothing about the ticking clock hanging over their heads. A part of her wondered if Alanna didn’t sense it, didn’t already know about the grandchild cradled within Tilly’s womb. They would have told her, but they didn’t want to be responsible for giving her a single additional piece of information that Beron could torture out of her or punish her for keeping from him. They’d have to figure out soon how long they planned to hide this before they absolutely couldn’t anymore. She hoped Eris’ meeting with Helion would produce some good leads and keep them from worrying about it altogether. 
Another roll and a frustrated sigh. She was probably only about two months along at most, and the uncomfortable nights would only become more commonplace from here. At least with Eris around, he could provide his warm hands pressed against her back for some relief. She smiled at the thought. Eris was going to be such a wonderful father, and as terrible as the circumstances were, she couldn’t help but feel genuinely excited about the prospect of seeing him in the role. She could imagine him rubbing circles into her back, holding her hands as she brought their baby into the world. She could picture Eris so vividly holding him or her against his chest, tiny tufts of bright red baby curls perfectly puffing up from the blanket. The visual brought tears to her eyes, as most things seemed to these days. 
A frantic pounding on the doors broke through the darkness. 
“Matilda! Matilda, help!” 
Alanna. 
The dogs were barking and snarling, and Tilly shot out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown to wrap tightly around her as she ran to the door. The pounding was growing louder and more hectic. 
“Matilda, please!” She threw up her glamours and waved down the wards in the same breath, swinging the door open in a panic. 
“Alanna, what’s–” 
But it wasn’t Alanna she found on the other side. 
She was greeted with the twisted smile of Aradnus, holding a handkerchief covered in a bright blue powder. The voice had been a trick of magic, and in the seconds it took her to put it all together and try to slam the door on him, he’d gotten his entire arm around her throat and pressed the cloth to her nose and mouth. She could think of nothing as her vision began to blur, her senses dulling rapidly. She struggled wildly against him, the dogs snarling and snapping behind her as he kicked the door closed on them, dragging her out into the hall. 
As the darkness closed in, she tried to reach out through the bond to warn Eris, but the golden thread of flame was nowhere to be found. 
Taglist (lomls): @cauldronblssd@queercontrarian@byyalady@thelovelymadone@clockwork-ashes@lovingkelj @lilah-asteria
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keirahknightley · 6 months
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Costume appreciation series: Addams Family Values (1993) dir Barry Sonnenfeld
Costume Design by Theoni Aldredge
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kalloway · 2 years
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M E R C Y  (Bloodborne OC)
not me rediscovering a paper texture + brush combo I really love djfgjd - it’s a good pencil brush for keeping things sketchy/loose I think! I care less if it looks ‘nice’ or ‘perfect’
anyway, Soulstober is a thing and my twitter feed is already loaded with very good fanart for Bloodborne and I love it but also hate it because it REALLY makes me want to play it again aaaaaaaaaa
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PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT ─── cillian murphy ✧𖦹
ೃ⁀➷ “I am turned inside out by the ache in your voice, the taste of your tongue." — ‘Afternoon Masala: Poems’, Vandana Khanna
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pairing. cillian murphy x actor!reader
summary. you and your co-star, cillian, are having a hard time performing a sex scene for your movie. they do say, however, practice makes perfect.
warnings. swearing, thigh-riding, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex, mentioned/implied age gap, probably inaccurate depictions of actor-life, mirror sex, slight breeding kink, kinda innocent reader(?), AU cillian murphy (not married/no kids), SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 
word count. 4.5k
a/n. this is not in any way meant to disrespect cillians wife😭 i js made this a not married AU to be convenient!
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i.
“Cut - cut, cut!” The director repeated, his increasing irritation colouring his voice completely. “Now, I said it earlier, but—“
You scrubbed your face with a sigh, getting up off of Cillian and the desk, who was propping himself up by the elbows. “It’s not passionate enough,” you finished flatly for your director, who nodded earnestly. 
“I promise, this is as tiring for me as it is for you. Remember,” the director continued, the script half curled in his hands and making a thin flapping noise, “it’s the culmination of six months of pining. Six months of taboo, unrelenting, electric tension. Nothing more than stares in class and brief touches- you are supposed to be bordering feral for one another.”
You, and your co-star, Cillian, were currently filming the first sex scene of a movie portraying the forbidden, toxic love affair between a barely 18 teenage student and her much older teacher. Well, not exactly filming- you weren’t getting far with the scene, for the two of you just couldn’t get it right. Or, as the director liked to say, passionate enough. 
The role was already incredibly taxing, even without the added stress of the sex scene: it was 20 hour work days, living on set in a trailer far from home, having to devote at least half of those hours to filming this very sex scene, and had a perfectionist director like yours. 
The problem was that it was long, and the director wanted it done in one take. Brilliant man, he was, and had a love for this project you wished every director had for theirs, but he was adamant on it being done perfectly. He said it was intended to be the “primary and most iconic” scene of the entire film, for it was the crux of the story; the point of no return for the characters. 
“With all due respect, I’ve never imagined such a scenario, much less had experience. Just how can you expect me to portray a student-teacher romance accurately?“
“That’s your job: to imagine and perform.” The director demanded, obviously up to his ears in frustration.
Just before you retorted irately, Cillian cut in smoothly. “I think what she means,” he said, watching the veins in the director’s forehead nearly burst, “is that it’s hard to perform because it’s not common. S’easy to act in love because there’s love all around, yeah? We don’t have much to go off of, visually.”
The director’s gaze rapidly flitted between you and Cillian for a moment, before letting go of his anger and sighing wearily. “You’ve never even thought about a superior that way? Someone older than you?” he pressed, obviously joking and trying to lighten the set’s mood. 
You paused, and tried not to look at Cillian, your blatantly gorgeous forty-something co-star who was chosen for this role firstly, because of his stellar acting and secondly, because of how fucking attractive he was. 
His character was a total fucking creep, and you knew casting Cillian had been a calculated choice; all in the name of making the audience’s guard come down to be smacked in the face by his immorality later. He was meant to be charming, handsome, and terribly, totally, off-limits: the object of completely forbidden desire, the line your character was desperate to cross. 
It seemed the same in real life, too: the young inexperienced actress wanting to ignore those societal niceties and pine wholeheartedly over the middle-aged actor with decades of knowledge under his belt. 
You weren’t, like, in love or anything, but you certainly reveled in his presence: he was patient, kind, and completely understanding of your lack of experience, always guiding you through all the steps an actor takes during filming like when to take off hair and makeup, what best to say to family and friends prying for details- all the things, he said, he wished someone told him when he was first starting out. 
You were afraid you two had unknowingly fallen into a mentor-mentee dynamic, but there were always those spare moments, between hearty fits of laughter and silly conversation that you’d never expected to come from such an intimidating man as Cillian, where his rough hands would brush past your waist, gaze dragging up and down your body, sounding sensual and provocative despite nothing dirty leaving his mouth at all. 
He made your insides pulse, especially when your more intimate scenes came about, and you could only have a lusting woman’s pipedream that he felt the same. 
You still remember the first sequence you’d done with him: in the movie, your characters met after-class to make up for a missed exam, and it was the start of their corrupt attraction. Cillian had been pressed against your back, leaning over you to pressuringly peer at the test, large hand gripping your shoulder. The air felt steamy then, his body warm, low voice making you feel lightheaded as he recited his lines. 
You shivered at the remembrance of the moment, coming back to reality, and you answered the director’s question with a vehement shake of the head. 
The director let out a (strained) laugh, and smacked his palm lightly with the script, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Okay, we’ll - we’ll break for today. Take this extra time to imagine, research, anything- just practice the scene, alright? Practice makes perfect.” 
You and Cillian nodded simultaneously, giving eachother a look that just screamed “he’s ridiculous” before tearing away from each other's stare to return to your trailers. 
Later, you were getting ready to go to bed, peeling your freshly showered hair out of a small towel, when there was a knock at your trailer door. 
“One second,” you called out, pulling on your silk sleep shorts. You vaguely registered how awkward it might be to be seen in your pajamas if the director or one of your fellow actors came about, but you were way too tired to care. 
You did care, however, self-consciously crossing your arms and covering your thinly-clothed chest, when you opened the door and there on the steps stood your co-star, Cillian.
Before speaking, he looked you up and down, icy blue eyes gleaming behind an unfamiliar pair of tortoise shell frames. “You goin’ to bed?” he finally asked, tone husky. 
His gaze lingered on the bare skin of your legs for a few seconds longer and you shifted uncomfortably, crossing your ankles together in a poor attempt to hide yourself. 
“What do you need?” you asked briskly, more sharp than you meant it to be. 
“Sorry,” he corrected himself, shaking his head and finally looking you in the eye. “I meant’a come by earlier… got caught up. I know this, ah, sex scene is tripping us up, so…” he trailed off, lifting up the white script he’d been holding behind his back. “Y’up for some practice?”
You blinked rapidly at the simple, innocent request. Mere rehearsal, not some lecherous late-night escapade you’d been dreaming up in your mind. “Oh… yes, of course,” you nodded numbly, moving out of the way to let him step in. 
Only moments later, when he’d perched onto the edge of your vanity — looking uniquely casual in what you assumed was his version of pajamas: baggy gray sweatpants and a fitted, well-worn black t-shirt — did you realize the connotations of rehearsing your sex scene. 
Sure, it was all pre-determined, every word you’d say and every action you’d perform, but still. Saying- and doing, such suggestive things after-hours? That was beyond your dirtiest fantasies.
However, you shook yourself internally: Cillian had come to rehearse the scene with professional intentions. Honestly, he’d probably done so because he was tired of you messing up the scene. He could do his own part masterfully, and you knew that if it’d been a better, more experienced actress by his side, filming would’ve moved on ages ago. 
You took shaky, tentative steps near him, settling on your bed, watching him flip through the script— when he looked up and frowned. 
“What’re you doing? Come here,” he gestured for you to come closer, almost a command. “We don’t have a desk, so we can use your vanity.”
You nodded, biting your lip and nervously complying with his words. “So, we’ll start from the beginning?” you asked, your voice -- and legs -- suddenly feeling terribly weak.
His eyes were still trained on the paper as he answered. “Not necessarily. The sex part s’really the only thing we’re having trouble with, yeah?” 
You gulped, throat dry. “Yeah, I guess so.” 
With that, he chanced one last look at the script, before diving into the scene. His actions were ones you were extremely familiar with, having attempted this scene everyday for at least a week now. 
His body turned to yours, hands coming up to your jaw, and pressing your back onto the table slightly. He held you tightly, and made you look at him, while delivering his lines softly, memorable Irish accent replaced by his character’s generic American one.
Jiltedly, you did the same, poorly remembering what you needed to say and dragging through it like some amateur. “Fuck, sorry,” you cursed suddenly, tearing away from his touch and sighing. 
He gave you a small, careful smile, immediately breaking out of character and taking a step away from the vanity. “No need t’be nervous. Practice makes perfect, right?” 
You snorted at his quoting of the director. “I just… I don’t know what he means by passionate. I’m trying to be professional about this but - but I’ve seriously never been in some steamy love-affair.”
“Can’t really expect that of you, can we? You’re too young, too much’ve a good girl for that kinda ‘ting.” He said, hand coming up to your shoulder, the one where your silk tanktop’s spaghetti strap had slipped off, rubbing it soothingly. 
You practically melted into a puddle at both the pet name and how the rough pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You were so entranced you almost whined when he stopped and pulled up your fallen strap, but instead you wordlessly snatched the script that was dropped onto the table and found one of the lines, inhaling sharply and readying yourself. 
Your hand came up to tug on the sleeve of Cillian’s shirt, as dictated by the script. “Sir, please,” you whispered out in your character’s high pitched voice, “I - I… want you to touch me.”
“This is -- wrong. I’m your teacher, and I…” Cillian responded, swiftly back in character, the back of his palm grazing your cheek. “I gotta break your heart, darling.”
You looked up at Cillian, summoning crocodile tears to fill your gaze. “Please. I need you.” Then, one of your clammy hands ran down Cillian’s chest as you spoke, like it did back on set. “I think of you, at night. I soaked through my shorts the day you scolded me.”
You heard Cillian’s breath hitch- his character, you reminded yourself. “Fucking hell… I think of you in class, sweetheart,” he growled out perfectly. 
So far, so good, you thought. It wasn’t awkward, and was already miles better than the lackluster performances you’d given previously. You continued by leaning into Cillian’s touch, making him sit on the vanity— the part of the scene you’d gotten to this morning, before the director called cut.
This time, however, Cillian’s actions differed from the ones he was supposed to perform: instead of petting the crown of your head, his fingers trailed down your hips, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’ll be good for you, sir,” you recited, face growing hot as his hand inched closer to the curve of your ass. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
Cillian’s gaze had darkened now, flitting over your features. He didn’t say his line - or, had at least missed the timing, and you removed your hands from his body worriedly. “Are you alright—“
Before you could finish your sentence, Cillian had grabbed you by the ass, switching your places and setting you down on the edge of the vanity. 
“Cillian!“ you squeaked out, the only thing you could really say as you processed what exactly just happened. Your mind was swimming with confusion — and anticipation — as he stood before you, legs pressing on either side of your knees and trapping you on the vanity. 
“Improv,” he promised quietly in his telltale Irish accent, a sly wink appearing on his sharp features. 
You bit your lip, nodded, and repeated your line. You trusted him to guide you — and the rehearsal — because, as mentioned before, he did these kinds of things often. If he thought you’d act better if you sat on the vanity, you’d sit on the vanity. 
His hand then pet your hair, the other hand coming up to your chin and making you look up at him. “Whatever I want?” he murmured, back on track with the script. 
You bat your lashes at him. “Everything. I’m yours.”
Now, this is where you thought Cillian would stop— because after your line came the kissing and the touching and the heavy petting: all things you thus far hadn’t filmed at all, because you couldn’t even get the dialogue out right. 
Instead, he leaned down and began to press hungry kisses down your neck, making you gasp.
“What are you—“
“Shh,” he demanded softly, “it's all part of the scene, remember?”
You blinked dumbly, mouth opening and closing, unable to register a coherent thought or word. He said it was part of the scene but you’d read that script, and his teeth nipping lightly at your skin was not written anywhere within it.
But, you gulped down your thoughts, and belted out several more of your lines in tandem to his own. With his other hand gripping your thigh so tight you thought it might bruise, you were starting to think that maybe this was one of those lecherous late-night escapades you were dreaming of. 
All you’d been doing was acting, like he’d asked, but still, you could see clear as day how that’d affect him— how easily it could be to succumb. After all, you were just barely restraining yourself from jumping his bones: how could you not, with his gorgeous face just inches away from yours?
Well, acting or not, you’d enjoy every minute of this.
When one of his hands began playing with the waistband of your shorts as he suckled on your pulse, that just right spot on your neck, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your mouth. 
However, the noise seemed to startle him; jumpshock him back to reality, and your suspicions became completely confirmed when he pulled away from you roughly. 
“Fuck, I’m—“ a pained grimace washed over his features, looking you up and down like he just realized what he’d been doing. “I don’t know what came over me, I— shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
You stared at him, body disappointed at the lack of touch, watching him press his pink lips into a conflicted white line. “What - what d’you mean?”
His gaze coursed over your every feature, so intently you thought he was admiring your face. “I can’t— we can’t happen. Y’too young, you’re, you’re too…”
“Then we can stop. If that’s what you want,” you murmured coyly, hand coming up to pick a piece of thread off his thin shirt. “But only if you ask. C’mon, say it: I don’t want you and I want this to stop.”
He groaned, biting his lip. “Don’t do that. I can’t do that.”
“Do what?” You tilted your head to the side. 
“Tease. Because you know I won’t tell you to stop. ‘Cause I won’t be able to fucking control m’self,” he grumbled, before pressing a desperate, deep kiss to your lips, pulling you off the vanity and continuing down your chest.
“Then don’t. Take me for everything I have,” you whined, following his every move and manhandling touch. 
He breathed heavily between kisses. “Saying those kinds’a words with that pretty voice of yours… fuck, you’re doing things to me.” 
Your hands were trailing all over his body, and then you tugged his shirt off, desperate to feel him. He had similar thoughts, fingers dipping into your silk shorts and petting your hot mound. 
“Need you,” you panted, and, at your words, he suddenly tore off your silk shorts and panties in one clean go, making you shiver.
He then sat down on your vanity chair and roughly grabbed you by the hips to place yourself onto one of his thighs. The thick fabric of his sweatpants, taking in your wetness like a sponge, made you wince.
“Go on then,” he demanded darkly, “get y’self off on my fucking thigh. Show me how bad you need me.”
You bit your lip, face burning with shame at the order. But there was an aching need in your gut, and the way he crossed his arms, watching and waiting for you to get the hell on with it, had you clenching around his thigh.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, and you began slowly rutting against him, the soft fabric of his pants doing poor work for pleasuring your core. You pressed your face into his shoulder, screwed up at the lack of friction. 
“Can’t do it,” you whined, “Please.” 
He rolled his eyes. “You said you needed me. You’ve got me,” he gestured to his thigh, “so get to work.” Then, he suddenly flexed, making an unwarranted mewl leave your mouth.
You wanted nothing more than his fucking cock, but here you were, pathetically pleasuring yourself on his thigh until he allowed otherwise. You nodded resignedly, and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, starting to set a steady pace of grinding down on him, slowly building up the heat within your insides. 
You were moaning now, vigorously dragging your hips against him harder, needier, feeling the pressure in your cunt grow hotter and more rampant. 
“Y’hear that?” He asked, one of his fingers tilting your chin back up to face him. “D’you even realize how fucking delicious you sound, all needy f’me?”
You nodded, but weren’t really paying attention: you were closer than ever, just moments away from falling off the edge— when Cillian stopped you. 
“Stop,” he spoke, voice filled with sheer lust, and you whimpered at the abrupt loss of momentum. Then, he got up, holding you against him by the waist, looking down at his sweatpants. “You made such a mess… soaked all over m’pants.”
You didn’t — no, couldn’t respond to his musings, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to return friction to your needy pussy, biting down on your lip to muffle your breathy pants. 
He noticed this, however, smirking and quickly pressing you stomach down onto the vanity. You caught a glimpse of yourself for the first time since your shower, and you flushed with shame: your eyes were heavy-lidded and dilated, lips pink and slick with drool, your brows in a perpetual knit.
You looked fucking filthy, and when you felt Cillian press his thick head to your entrance, something you hadn’t noticed he’d pulled out, too enraptured in your dirty expression, you shut your eyes. 
You were suddenly so much more aware of the situation: you’d fucked yourself silly on your co-stars thigh, the co-star who was twice your age. He now knew you weren’t a talented aspiring actress, no, you were just a desperate little thing begging to be fucked. 
“Hey, hey,” He tutted in mock-disappointment, “open your eyes, and fucking watch yourself. It’ll be good for our scene.”
You whimpered helplessly, obeying him and fluttering your eyes open, as he pushed his cock past your dripping folds inch by inch. 
“Oh my god,” you cried out when he finally pressed all the way in. You felt so full, stretched to the brim with his hardened cock, so deep his balls touched your sticky clit.
“So fucking wet,” he commented, chuckling darkly behind you. You were totally slick, helping him enter you faster, but his cock was still a foreign intrusion to your inexperienced cunt: you were young, and had never been the type to “get around” — at least not with the intentions of getting fucked so much you could take any length of dick easily. 
You clenched around him, a groan leaving his mouth at the increased pressure around his cock, and he snapped into you, making you bounce forward as your lips parted with a sweet moan. 
You’d been focussed on his face, in the mirror, but Cillian’s hand suddenly tangled through your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and lifting your head to face yourself. “I told you to fucking watch yourself,” he spat, gripping your hair tightly. “you’re the reason we can’t wrap up, so do your job and fuckin’ practice.”
With that, Cillian started pounding into you, digging the rough pads of his fingers into your hip, and you would’ve protested such a fast progression — having been given barely any time to get used to his long cock — but your expression was even worse than before, if that was even possible. 
Your mouth was open, tongue out and panting like a fucking dog, your lustfully sticky spit spilling down your chin to your chest, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head with each hearty thrust Cillian delivered you. The sounds you were making weren’t helping your embarrassment either, all unintelligible mewls and needy whines for his cock. 
“You’ve wanted me for so long, haven’t you? I always knew what a filthy desperate girl you were, pressing up against me during shooting… those naughty hands on my thighs,” he snickered. 
“Needed you in me so bad,” you whimpered, nodding enthusiastically, barely able to register what you were doing now with the pleasure washing over you and clouding your senses. Your back was arching into him, sucking in his cock and never wanting him to leave despite the mind-breaking ecstasy that was coming from his pounding. 
“Just look at your dirty fuckin’ face… so pathetic.” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek; sweet and lovely, a stark juxtaposition to his unrelenting rutting and degrading words. 
You whined at his words, but you knew they were true: you’d never seen yourself get fucked, always too busy with, well, getting fucked, but seeing yourself in the mirror like this had you unexpectedly hotter than before. There was just something about it, your face unabashedly contorting around the pleasure, Cillian’s hands snaking up your body as he rammed into you in the background. 
Kind of like your own personal porno, you thought offhandedly, and you wondered how it’d affect you if you filmed yourself. Hopefully, with Cillian. 
His other hand then came up to your folds, spreading them apart so he could see himself disappear into your hole. “Fuck, your cunt’s so perfect,” he growled, his head falling back, losing himself in the pleasure. 
The orgasm building in your gut wasn’t like the one when you’d been grinding down on his thick thigh, no, it came faster, making you sweat and your knees shake. You wanted more, and you gasped out “faster,” and “harder,” to Cillian, needing him in the stick spongy spot deep in your cunt. 
“Please,” you begged without any expectation of a real answer or action, “please, Cillian, please.”
He did go faster, though, to your apparent shock, both hands coming to your thighs to steady himself. “So needy,” he grumbled, pushing himself deeper and more swiftly into you, feeling how deliciously your fleshy walls tightened around his new pace. 
With that, your high came just as quick, hitting you like a fucking freight train and making you scream out his name. Your orgasm wrecked you, made your vision go white and your thoughts stutter to a complete halt, and you vaguely made out Cillian’s proud hum, whispering “Good girl,” in your ear. 
When you came to, your head was hanging low, your eyes blown out, lips puffy. Cillian was still thrusting into your worn-out pussy, but it was more jilted, shaky and needy. 
“Come in me,” you pleaded suddenly, gripping the vanity to keep your trembling legs up, “fill me up, please, make your come spill out of me.”
“Good god, girl,” he groaned, pounding one last thrust into you before letting go, his cock pulsing around your wet core. He was pressed up to you so deep you could feel him shoot his load right into your cervix, and you grinned weakly, a sweet image of you: knocked up with his kid, your cunt so young and fertile you’d get pregnant from just about anything from him, entering your mind. 
After a moment, he slipped his softening cock out of your filthy cunt and picked you up by the waist to set you down on the vanity and keep you from falling onto the floor. 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your lashes. You then bit your lip, feeling his thick load of creamy come ooze out of your used hole onto your vanity. 
He noticed too, letting out a satisfied groan, spreading your legs lightly, before collecting himself on his finger and pushing his come back into your cunt. “Such a good girl,” he reiterated, going back to being sweet and petting your hair, doting on your weak form, looking deep into your eyes. 
You swooned at his delicate actions. “Is this a good time to say I like you?” 
He laughed, all adoringly. “It’s as good a time as any. I like you, too, if it’s any consolation.” 
“But you, y’know… you said I was too young,” you reminded him, frowning slightly. 
He sighed, gaze drifting away nervously for a moment before coming back to you. “That I did, but, well… if you wanna take this old man for a ride before I keel over,” he shrugged.
You couldn’t help the laugh that belted out of you, his words so ridiculous and completely not based in reality. “Oh, sure,” you said, shaking your head, lips still in an amused tilt, “you’re mine, old man.”
Before he could speak, probably say another stupid joke, your hands wrapped around his neck and you pulled him toward you, pressing a soft kiss to his plump lips. 
“I like you like you, okay?” You whispered, sounding incredibly juvenile but twice as heartfelt, your tone wavering and self-conscious. You were bearing your heart on your sleeve here, okay, acknowledging feelings you thought should never come to light. 
His hands came up to your face, gently holding you. “Good thing I like you like you, too.”
ii.
“Cut!” The director called, and you swore you felt your heart drop to the floor. Fuck, you thought, mind racing, what went wrong this time? Was it the kissing, or the hands in the hair?
However, the director came up to you and Cillian and let out an uncharacteristic shriek of delight. “Perfection,” he said simply, bordering on catatonic with how content he was. 
Your shoulders slumped with relief, and you leaned into Cillian, who was subtly dancing his fingers across your thigh. “It’s finished?” you asked, breathless with excitement.
The director nodded. “That was electric, needy, tense, delicious, passionate, so, so passionate,” he continued with a gasp, hands clasping together tightly.  “You are two of the most amazing actors I have ever worked with— you are incredibly talented, so convincing I’d have thought you did sleep together.” 
You preened at his praise, but not without looking up at Cillian, meeting his gaze and barely keeping your expression happy and neutral and not at all warm at the thought of the other night's events. 
As the director went off rambling about the utter masterpiece the movie was to be, Cillian trailed behind you off the set, murmuring lowly in your ear, “I guess practice does make perfect.”
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Wanna Buy You A Drink
(Bob Floyd x Reader)
Summary: It's been five months since Bob's seen his wife, and aside from Natasha he had yet to mention her to his team. He calls it privacy, she jokes it's internalised possessiveness. But tonight, with Penny's help at the Hard Deck, more than one person is in for a surprise. After all, who doesn't love a good innuendo?
A/N- Hi y'all! No TWs I think, a good few innuendos and one joke about making babies but nothing actually happens. I've been trying to finish this one for a while and am very happy with how it turned out! P.S incase y'all didn't know the Thunderbirds are the US Air Force's professional flight team that does really amazing tricks and skills and the Blue Angels are the ones for the US Navy! Both groups are so amazing to see in person and I just wanted to make a little Navy Vs. Air Force rivalry joke about them!😊 Enjoy❤️
WC- 3.8k
Main Masterlist
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He didn't know you were coming.... or so soon at least.
The last time you had spoken to your husband was a few days ago while trying to find a flight to San Diego for next month. The two of you had texted of course, and you had even gotten a few awkwardly taken selfies of the man with the sunset behind him. Neither you nor your husband enjoyed having your photo taken, so seeing him take time to step out of his usual comfort zone was always touching. Besides, you would never tell him (nor would he tell you), but there was a growing album in your phone of sneakily taken photos, though blanket holes or around house walls when the other wasn't looking. These little albums you each had "hidden" helped the burden of the distance seem less harsh, especially in the times when Bob's job kept him farther way than usual.
Despite the top secret mission he had been sent on being completed, your husband was still assigned to say in the city for an undetermined amount of time. Evidently the higher ups decided they liked how well the crew had flown and wanted to keep them together. Tired of being alone and wanting to have a little fun in the Sunny City, you decided to make an early appearance. Luckily, you had already managed to find a job in the city that was just a different branch of where you worked before. They were also kind enough to give you a two weeks leave of your own to make the move and see your husband. Your husband knew you would to join at some point, only he thought you wouldn't be getting in until late next month. So he would be very surprised in a few hours when he found you at one of the navy's top aviator hangouts that night.
It was a bar called the Hard Deck. You remembered your husband mentioning it a few times through your communications, as where him and his fellow officers liked to go after a long day. A quick google search rendered a fruitful find, and ten minutes after getting your rental car, you were on your way. It barely 5:30 by the time your reached the bar, Aviators and Civilians alike had just begun to pour through the bar doors. But by 6:00 you were sure the place would be packed. So you quickly searched for a seat, always rubbing your right thumb over your left wrist to calm your nerves. 
In the centre of the building, a beautiful older beautiful woman moved around the main bar serving drinks with ease. 'Penny' you though to yourself, remembering Bob mentioning her a few times when the bar came up. Apparently in addition to running the bar she also had close connections to the the Top Gun program herself, namely with a certain Captain who helped lead the last Mission. You smiled to yourself as you saw the sign by the bar serving a warning to those who would disrespect women or the navy. Maybe this woman could help you with your fun. When it became your turn to order you smiled at Penny...
"Hi! I was actually hoping I could send a drink to someone else if that would be alright?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bob was tired. There was no particular reason why he was tired today, he just was. Training had gone smoothly and Hangman hadn't been too much of an pain either. All and All, today had actually been one of the least stressful days since he first arrived nearly five months ago. But for some reason Bob just felt off today, he chalked it up to having not spoken to you in a few days. Speaking to you always made him feel better, even when it was only for a few minutes. And having not seen you in person for five months made him long for something from you even more.
But these last few days had been busy, and then earlier today he had tried calling, but it hadn't gone through. This didn't worry him too much as he knew you occasionally turned your phone off during days when you really needed to focus on work. Though it was unusual for you to be working so late, seeing as your time zone was a few hours ahead of his and he called at 4:30 his time. Since the call didn't go though he decide that the "secret" photo album he had of you would have to suffice for now. Neither of you liked having your photo taken, but quick images taken half under the counter and while one slept always made the other smile.
He had been so busy looking at photos he almost didn't notice the group's nightly arrival to the Hard Deck until Phoenix nudged him. Giving him that half secret smile showing she knew what he was looking at. While the rest of the group (and even Maverick to a degree) thought Bob was incapable of talking to a woman without stuttering, Tasha knew otherwise. Bob hadn't even tried to hide it when she had asked why he seemed so fond of rubbing his right thumb over his sleeved left wrist night the group met. She had done it in private, of course, and only wondered if it was a nervous habit of her new WSO. And it was a habit....only not Bob's.
It was something you had always done even before you got married, a comforting repetitive habit that both you and your husband shared. But it also held a deeper meaning as it held the symbol your love. 
When the two of you first decided to get married a few years ago you hadn't gotten rings, or at least ones you'd wear on a daily basis. Both your jobs often required plenty of hands on work, and you had both been worried about losing the rings during the day. So instead, a cheaper pair of matching rings was bought and a new tradition was made. Each of you carried the other's ring in your wallet. That way, even when far apart you could have a piece of the other with you. And when the two of you met up face to face again you'd once more exchange rings. 
But even that wasn't all.
 The pair of you had wanted something more so you had decided to get matching tattoos. They were small and identical and despite almost breaking Bob's hand holding it while getting yours (from fear of needles) the small design was now one of your greatest comforts. On the inside of each of y'all's left wrist were two small stick figures holding hands on a paper airplane. At first glance it may have seems silly to any stranger passing by. But to you and Bob it was everything. 
Bob had been the one to draw stick "You" and you had drawn stick "Bob" with his little glasses. You had also drawn the paper airplane as stickmen were the extent of Bob's artistic skills. Besides, the paper plane you believed would be funny at the time. A memorial of how you two had first met in high school, when your paper plane had accidentally collided with his face instead of your friend's desk during class one day. You hadn't even known he wanted to be a pilot until months later, but when you did learn he was quick to comment how one day he'd be more than happy to take you up in a plane, as long as your weren't the one flying it again (he didn't think his face could take it). Years later you still found it funny and Bob would sometimes catch you laughing to yourself tracing the black lines on his wrist while lying in bed. A moment of peace before you two would have been parted again. Bob didn't regret what he did for a job, and neither did you, but that didn't stop you two from wishing to be together more. 
Again Tasha nudged him, breaking Bob out of his reverie before the pair headed into the crowded bar. It was just after 6:15 and already packed. Bob knew he'd rather head home and try calling you again, but he had also promised Fanboy one more pool rematch, since Hangman had busted into their last one. Luckily, even though the bar itself was crowded, the pool tables were open.
A few minutes into the game, Hangman and Coyote went to order a round of drinks and came back talking. Apparently there was some "Gorgeous Doll" (Jake's words) sitting at the bar and the pair of aviators were arguing over who'd get the chance to "woo" her first. 
Bob wasn't paying too much attention to their conversation or very interested in finding out more about this mystery woman. As far was he was concerned not even Dolly Parton could top your beauty and Bob would openly admit that he'd had a minor(ish) crush on the country singer since he was a kid. It had even become a running joke between your families, the battle for Bob's heart between you and Dolly. 
When he'd gotten his wisdom teeth out at 17, his mother told him someone had come to see him. Poor Bob about cried upon realising it was you instead of Mrs. Parton, his "Angel Voiced Beloved". Oh how you wish his brother still had that video tape, but unfortunately it had "mysteriously vanished" after Bob had overheard his sisters mention trying to get it for the wedding video. But more fortunately, the drugs wore off and soo enough he'd come back to his senses, and since that one night you'd been the only one for him. And luckily for him, he'd been the only one for you. 
So even if he was slightly curious to see which of his friends would attempt their flirtations, or which ones would fail, for now he didn't put too much thought into it. The quicker he won the game the quicker he could try calling you again. 
Soon enough Hangman was called back over to the bar to retrieve the group's drinks and they once again settled in to continue the game. Bob was once again winning, and Javy sat aside beginning to wish he hadn't placed such a bet tonight while Tasha and Callie were already making plans in their heads for what to do with their prize money. The only ball Bob had left to hit was the eight ball, and thanks to a lucky slip on Fanboy's part, it was a shot as perfect as it was easy. 
Javy cursed under his breath while Tasha and Callie high-fived, and Rooster cheered raising his glass up almost dumping his drink on Jake's head. Fanboy hung his head in defeat while Bob just grinned. Bob wasn't a bragging man but he still did like to win...a lot. The Squad may have thought of Bob as the quiet and passive WSO, but they had yet to see how competitive he could be when challenged. They had seen plenty of dog fights in the sky, but nothing compared to the vicious chaos between the Floyd family when it came to the annual gingerbread house competition. Under that sweet smile and those large glasses hid an overly excited man-child basking in his victory. Ok... so maybe it had been a good idea to come tonight. Bob couldn't wait to call his wife and tell her about his achievement. After all she was the one who taught him to play.
A few minutes later the group of aviators had settled down again and a new game started. This time Rooster was up against Maverick himself, which always proved to be a good show, full of sneaky cheating and playful jibes. Bob was sitting by Callie and Tasha taking his share of the winnings. It was only 6:30 now and he knew his night owl of a wife wouldn't be asleep for a few more hours so he decided to watch a few more games between his friends before calling a cab home. 
Hangman and Coyote were still debating over whose turn it was to talk to the new woman at the bar. Evidently, they'd noticed her reoccurring glances towards the squad during the first game and were sure she was interested in one of them two. And to drive their beliefs further, the glances had been accompanied by a playful smirk "directed" to the two men who'd placed themselves behind an oblivious Bob as them game went on. 
It was a few minutes later Penny walk up to the Aviators carrying a drink in her hand and smirk on her face. 
"Someone sent over a drink for one you lot," she said, at once turning the entire groups' attention towards her. After all who didn't like a free drink? Usually the drinks in question were for sent for Tasha or Callie, the only two women in the whole squad, but occasionally one of the other aviators would be the recipient. No one would forget the time Ruben got a drink from a 60 something year old women in a sparkly dress. And it appeared this would be one of those times. 
With a smirk on her face she turned, setting the colorful drink down saying,
"Lieutenant Bob Floyd someone wants you to have sex on the beach."
Aside from quite humming of ice machine and the clatter of Maverick's pool stick it seemed as if all the sound has been sucked out of the Hard Deck. As if Penny's words has been some wicked spell freezing, all the group's inhabitants where stood still. A little ways away from the group, a woman sat with a growing grin on her face as she watched everything unfold. Just as Bob opened his mouth, his face now a red as his wife's lipstick, Penny delivered the final 'blow'. 
"It's double strong too, so I'd say someone really wants you to have it."
Bob looked like a fish. A really cute six foot tall fish with military issued glasses but still a fish. His eyes were wide and his mouth kept opening slightly before closing as if the words in his head were fully composed of silent letters. If one were to look into Bob's head and read his mind they'd be able read the flurry of responses and polite refusals streaming through his brain. It wasn't the first time he'd been sent a drink, but that never stopped him from going speechless when it happened. Now Bob was a married man. A very happily married man, but he still had an awful habit of getting flustered anytime showed interest in him. It was something that Y/N took special pleasure in, and there were times they went out with friends when she'd pretend she didn't know him just so she could relentlessly flirt and turn him red. To be fair he'd also done it to her a few times, but she had a habit of taking any flirting he did as a challenge. And then, while their friends fake gagged and smirked behind their backs, the night would be filled with flirty winks and innuendos until someone gave in and "agreed" to take the other to "their place".....wait a mi....
"I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of getting you a refreshment. Thought you might have deserved it after that wonderful win." 
Bob was grinning like an idiot before he even finished turning his head to the approaching voice. He didn't get out of his seat though as his head fell back to the ceiling with a hand over his face as the last of the embarrassment left him. Turning his head back to the women he smiled again as he began to laugh. He turned his body more towards her and noticed the dress she was wearing. Damn he loved that dress. It was the one she wore when they had gotten engaged. Looking at her lips she appeared to have the same lipstick on too.
"I hate you."
Words said without malice, quite the oppose actually, brought another laugh to Y/N's lips as after months apart she finally got to stand in-front of her husband. Eyes never leaving her husband's, she places a hand over her heart and gave a dramatic gasp.
"Well that is the most heartbreaking news I've ever heard darling. You see I was so impressed with your skills earlier, I was ALL set to propose. See I even got you a ring," and with that Y/N pulled her left hand back from her chest and revealed Bob's ring which had been sitting in her wallet for months now. Well, aside from almost every day when she'd fidget with it in her hands while on the phone with him or just because she missed him. And a little farther up from her palm was a small tattoo of two tiny stick people holding hands on a paper plane. In the back ground, Phoenix let out a small sound of joy of her own as she finally understood what was happening. Quickly she leaned over and explained to Callie, who also started to laugh. The rest of the aviators still stood in shock, not sure what was going on. They only knew that for some reason Bob "Blushes at the word boobies" Floyd was getting the attention of one very pretty women, apparently because he could play pool. 
Bob only stared at her hand for a moment longer before he finally stood from his chair and wrapped the woman in front of him in his arms. Spinning her around once before kissing her cheek he pulled back.
"Well, I guess I'll have to rethink my words then ma'am. In fact, I think I got a ring right here that may fit your style," he replied grinning as he pulled Y/N's ring out of his own pocket and wallet with a practiced ease done many times before. "You'll have to forgive me for not kneeling to do it now, I'll get my ass chewed out if I dirty this uniform," he joked looking down to the woman in his arms smiling back.
"It may not be typical or proper, but I certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely ass of yours....so I guess I'll accept," Y/N joked back, drawing out a few words for added affect, not really caring about the propriety of it just ecstatic to be with her other half again.
"PROPER?! I haven't seen you in five months and the first think you do is send someone to tell me you really want me to have sex on the beach. How's that's proper for ya! Not even a hello first," Bob laughed. As surprised as he was initially, he really did miss this little game of y'all's. It brought out a cheekier side of him his friends usually didn't see.
"Alrighty then," stepping back and picking up the drink in question with a smirk, Y/N raised it to her husband's eyesight, "Hello, Lieutenant Bob Floyd would you like to have sex on the beach?"
"Well I just don't know if that's something I can answer in public Mrs Floyd," he replied cheekily, still starting at his wife.
"MRS.FLOYD"
That was the collective statement from the remaining aviators as the couple was finally brought out of their own little world. Turing to face the company Bob stood with his arm around Y/N's waist proudly like a child at Christmas.
"Yeah, Mrs. Floyd. Been that way since I became the luckiest man on earth."
"And since I became the luckiest women. But all ah y'all are welcome to call me Y/N. Or you know... Mrs. Baby on Board. Though I guess we haven't gotten to that part yet, but, it has been five months after all."
Tasha followed, closely by Callie, was the first to approach as Rooster's pool stick fell to the table and Maverick started wacking a sputtering Jake on the back, after the latter choked on his drink with the final sentence. 
"Hi, I'm Natasha and this is Callie, callsigns Phoenix and Halo. I'm your husband's ..."
Before Natasha could even finish she was wrapped in a hug by Y/N.
"Ohh I know you!! Bobbie talks about you all the time! You're Black Widow! It's so nice to meet you!!"
"Black Widow," someone asked from the side, while Bob began to chuckle under his breath.
"Ohh right, sorry. I have a hard time with remembering names, so I like to make up helpful nicknames with Bob to remind me of who is who. Like Natasha is Black Widow because of Natasha Romanoff; and Callie is Catwoman because of Callico Cats; and there's also a Rocket Raccoon for whoever's Bradley; and I have a Peter Pan beca...."
"Yep I think they get it darling. No need to divulge all our secrets." Bob interrupted nervously, not quite wanting his team to know all his secrets yet. He'd also NEVER tell them that when you first learned about his job you'd compared him to the Thunderbirds. I mean the audacity of it all! Everyone knew the Blue Angles were superior! Those were some fighting words Bob assured you at the time. Callie and Tasha burst into grins, liking this more and more, while Y/N looked back a her husband with a fake look of innocence in her eyes. Meanwhile Penny, still with the group, wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as Maverick gaped and Rooster got into a debate with Mickey if he was hotter than Bradley Cooper. Soon the laughter died down and Maverick stepped forward sticking out his hand.
"Well it sounds like you seem very good at giving callsigns of your own. Maybe we'll have to put you in charge of naming the new recruits Y/N. My callsign's Maverick but I'm guessing you know me as Peter Pan."
"Pleasure to meet you Maverick. I might just have to take you up in that offer. Heard a lot about you too. All of you in fact. I'm sorry for interrupting your game earlier, I've been waiting to do that for a long time. Your friend Penny was a brilliant help too." Y/N smiled and shook his hand. He had a welcoming smile that reminded her of her own father. She also sent a smile towards Penny who returned it with her own and took a step closer to Maverick. 
"No problem at all, it always nice to see couple's meeting again. I must admit the drink was a nice touch. Never seen an idea that creative yet." 
Stepping back towards her husband who put his waist around her once again, "Why thank you captain, I do suppose it's nice someone appreciates a good innuendo." Bob gave a small groan, but smiled as he buried his head into his wife's shoulder whispering how he did appreciate it and would show her how much later. Out of the corner of her eye Y/N caught a few more aviators still staring, though they seemed much less confused, now slowly settling in to of their quiet friend being married. "Though I believe there's a few more introduction left as well," She mentioned as she stepped towards the remaining group and shot a mischievous grin towards her husband, asking him a question without words.
"Oh just do it, they're gonna know eventually I guess," Bob laughed and looked at his wife with an equally mischievous look, finally taking a sip of his drink. After all, she'd probably let the names slip one day. This was going to be great. Hearing her next words, Jake choked on his drink again.
"Alrighty then. Which one of y'all boys is Statefarm?"
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willows-peak · 4 months
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*・゚✧ Sukuna's Favorite Toy
aka sukuna having way too much stamina
tags: fem! reader, porn without plot, multiple orgasms (you and sukuna), overstim, a single spank, he calls reader a bitch once, lotus position, big dick sukuna, creampie, breeding kink near the end
MDNI
word count: 1k
a/n: happy new yearssss. this was written at like 2 in the morning and i think it's very obvious lulz.
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⋆。˚ ♡ You shook as you fell against Sukuna's hard chest, panting as he grunted. "What's the matter, you getting tired?" He said, his tone dripping with false concern. "Can't....m-move...." You nodded into his neck, earning a loud laugh from the King. "I knew it. Humans are always so fragile.." He muttered, smiling at how you tried to keep moving your hips but failing miserably at it. You were just so determined to be good for him, how could he not reward you a little bit? 
With a quick movement of his hips, you were slightly repositioned so he could thrust up into you. And thrust he did, good god. 
You yelped as his cock was suddenly pistoned up into your pussy, his hands coming to squeeze and slap at your ass. "That's much better, isn't it baby?" You could barely get a word out from how fast he was going, broken moans and gasps being the only thing your mouth would make now. "Ssssuk-una!-" You moaned out, Sukuna flashing a toothy grin down at you. You felt your mind start to fizzle out with how effortlessly he could move your body up and down, his sharp nails poking into the flesh of your ass as he kept thrusting. 
"Fuck, this pussy is so wet... All for me, huh? Feels this good because of my cock, right?" He egged you on, grin falling when you failed to respond to him. "Aww, what, am I going too fast? Can't talk?" He spoke lowly, a particularly hard thrust making you jolt, legs trembling against Sukuna's built and toned thighs. "T-too f-aaass', ah! is' too- pleaase is' too goooodd..." You droned out, tears welling up in your pretty eyes as you felt a familiar hot coil start in your belly.
You could do nothing but continue moaning as Sukuna laughed at your state, pushing your hips back enough for his cock to hit your g-spot better. "Is that better?" He cooed, leaning forward and licking the stray tear of pleasure that rolled down your cheek. 
"Yesyesyesyesyes- good good good good so good so good, ple-ase mmake me cum, w'nna cum, please please-" You stumbled out, a line of drool falling down your chin as you were quickly brought closer to your orgasm. Sukuna was relentless, your pussy as good as a fleshlight to his cock as he spreads you open further. His fingers shifted down to where you two met, pressing down  on chuckling at how much you had to stretch for his cock. 
"Cum on my cock, do it, show me how much you fucking love this, bitch." He groaned in your ear, his fingers moving up to your clit and rubbing hurriedly. 
You cried out his name loudly as you were nearly thrown off the edge, your orgasm crashing down in wave after wave after wave of ecstasy. By some miracle, Sukuna at least slowed down his thrusting, grinding your hips back and forth on his cock while you slowly rode out your orgasm. 
You flopped back against his chest, any semblance of energy in you now sapped out. Sukuna's movements didn't stop, of course, because why would they? Did you think you were done because you already came a few times? Oh you poor thing...
What you'd come to realize is that you're finished when Sukuna is finished. Where's that limit, exactly? I suppose you'll be the one finding out tonight.
----
Sukuna roughly groping your tits, grunting and panting into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips down into you. God, how long has this been going on? You didn't bother to keep counting after the 3rd time he came inside you, and who knows how long ago that was. All you know is that you felt full, every single inch of Sukuna's disgustingly big cock filling your pussy, his cum seeping out of you and making a small puddle underneath the two of you. 
Sukuna was relentless, clearly loving how fucked out you were sounding. "Fuck yes, cum again for me, all over my fucking cock, yes yes yeeessss..." he'd chant while a hand was quickly rubbing your clit. You could barely register your orgasm this time, everything swirling together in a mix of painful overstimulation and the high of your orgasm so much that you gave up on thinking. 
Sukuna's cock was just so big, thick and long and able to hit spots your fingers couldn't even dream of reaching. Sometime tonight, you realized the reason Sukuna was so giddy was that he knew you couldn't replace this feeling. This full body exhaustion mixed with a never ending need for more, more, more. He was the only one who could give it to you, and he'd make sure you'd never get enough of it.
You let out a broken cry of his name when he gave a mean thrust inside you, shifting your legs around to have them pressed up against your chest. Angling your hips up like this let him reach even deeper inside you that much easier, Sukuna wasting no time to continue to ruin you in this new position. 
"G'na... cum, n you're- g'na take it, ok?" He groaned out, his controlled and calm tone from the beginning of the night all but evaporating to mirror his near manic level of excitement. He watched with such intensity watching your pussy weakly clench around his cock, your scratchy voice calling out his name and your hickey bruised and bouncing tits with his name written on them-
Sukuna threw his head back and cackled as he came again, swearing and wiping the sweat starting to appear on his brow, not stopping his pace through his orgasm. "Gonna get you pregnant with my kid, gonna be my fucking baby maker-" He laughed lowly as he watched your head thrash to the side, your back arching off the mattress. 
He roughly grabbed your chin and turned your head back towards him. "Don't you dare look away from me, look at me when I'm knocking you up." He growled the last part out, leaning down to your ear and breathing into it as he moved. 
Aren't you just so lucky to have him?
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princetofbone · 9 months
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study tips for when it is late at night
i am one of the first people to tell you to go to sleep- I myself prefer to be a 7:30 pm bedtime kinda guy, but sometimes I need more time to study, so here are some tips to have a less painful late night study sesh:
lights on at full brightness- as much as I love watching the sunset through my window and lighting my desk via a dim yellow lamp and candles, the sunset + low yellow light is screaming at your brain that it is bedtime, so keep as many lights on as you can
have a super cold drink- i'm talking 95% ice. I love warm drinks, but when I start getting really tired because it's late, it only makes me sleepier, so ice water/iced tea will be your friend
have a very clear to-do list. when it's late and you want to sleep, your brain gets floaty and you might drift onto topics/things you don't need to be doing, so make sure you have a good list
get rid of any distractions- your goal right now is to get your shit done and go to bed- if you spend half an hour scrolling through tumblr, that's half an hour later you now need to stay up to finish.
NO CAFFINE please do future you a favor; you won't be able to sleep and (at least for me) you can start getting really anxious
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sprinkler-ashes · 8 months
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begin again // aaron hotchner x reader
begin again
aaron hotchner x fem!reader
description: in which there are five times that aaron hotchner restores your faith in love and one time where you restore his. inspired by begin again by taylor swift.
words: 6.1k
warnings: cursing, a touch of angst, hotch in a quarter zip and casual clothes (yes this requires a warning), fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint, reader has an awful ex (gn pronouns for ex), mentions of violence and injuries
a/n: i’ve been working on this all throughout the week every night at like 3 am running on, at best, 4 hours of sleep so i’m very sorry if there are grammar/spelling errors – i will edit soon. also i fear i’ve been watching too much dharma & greg, and this was the product. enjoy!
i've been spending the last eight months
thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end
but on a wednesday in a cafe
i watched it begin again
One.
It was week one of your new job at the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit when you knew with absolute certainty that as soon as you arrived back at the bureau, you were going to hand in your resignation.
You were sitting away from the rest of the team who all sat together, though a little cramped, and deep into discussion about something that you couldn’t bring yourself to listen to. They were talking normally as if everything they just witnessed over the last few days didn’t affect them.
You knew that you were new to this – it was your first week on the job. But you felt like you should be… happier than the way you currently felt. This was your dream job: one that you’ve spent years working towards. One that you gave everything up for, including your relationship.
However, it was starting to feel like it wasn’t worth it.
The team was very lovely. From the moment the case had begun, each one of them made an effort all throughout the trip to Missouri to make sure you were keeping up and doing okay. They’d even tried to get you to come over and chat with them when the flight started, but you lied and said you were tired.
Your head was leaning against the window, your eyes peering out to see nothing but blue skies and clouds. This was everything you’d ever wanted, so why did you feel the way you did?
A voice in the back of your head told you that your ex was right; you weren’t cut out for this. You were going to fail just like they always said you were going to – this was a mistake.
You couldn’t help but be on the verge of a breakdown with all the thoughts running through your head, but there was no way you could cry due to the presence of someone moving to sit in the seat in front of you. A part of you didn’t want to look up because you knew exactly who it was. You didn’t want to look him in the eyes, but, reluctantly, you did look up only seconds later.
BAU Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner was sitting in front of you with his usual gaze that made you feel slightly intimidated. He seemed to be good at everything he did – or at least everything you had seen him do. He was well-respected, a damn good profiler, and so put-together that it made you feel like a mess in comparison.
“Can I help you, sir?” You asked, attempting to mask the conflicted feelings in your voice.
He ignored your question. “You just finished your first case. I wanted to see how you were feeling. You and Reid really helped by figuring out the geographical profile.”
You should’ve known he would know. This was a plane full of profilers – they probably all knew.
“I’m good,” you lied with an attempted smile that never reached your eyes. “I’m glad we caught the guy; I’m just really exhausted.”
Aaron didn’t say anything as he obviously did not believe you with his eyes still watching you, presumably reading more about you in mere seconds than you even knew about yourself. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the chatter from the rest of the team filling the air.
“They’ve all been here for years,” he suddenly said. “It still affects them, but it gets easier.”
“I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you told him, your voice cracking in the middle of your sentence. You shut your eyes, cutting off eye contact. You didn’t want to look at your boss after you basically just told him you can’t do your own job.
This is so embarrassing, you thought to yourself.
When you finally re-opened your eyes, Aaron was still watching you. He moved forward, crossing his arms and resting them on the table between the two of you. He was looking at you with what you almost would’ve called sympathy.
“You can do this,” he reassured you, making sure his voice couldn’t be heard by the rest of the team. “You wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t. It’ll get better.”
The sheer honesty in his voice caused unshed tears to form in your eyes. No one had given you the affirmation you so desperately needed in a long time – not even your ex, who often said more unkind things than kind.
“What if it doesn’t?” You asked, blinking hard to get rid of the tears that were threatening to fall.
“It will,” he said firmly, emphasizing his words. “Go home, rest, and come back for a new day tomorrow.” With that, he stood back up, straightened out the sleeves of his suit jacket, and looked at you one last time before walking back over to where he was originally sitting. “You did very well this week.”
Aaron said everything with so much sincerity that for the first time in a while, you felt a little bit better.
Two.
You didn’t end up quitting.
It had been a little over a month since you almost quit your job after the first week. Things still weren’t perfect, but you had gotten more used to being a profiler and had gotten to the point where going to work didn’t feel like such a chore.
You were now in a small North Dakota town on a case. It was the second week of December, and the heat was out at the inn you were staying at, which all of you had, unfortunately, found out when arriving back from the police department.
“I probably know the answer to this, but is there any way we could go somewhere else?” JJ asked as she stood by the door. “It’s freezing, Hotch.”
“Actually, in order for it to be freezing, it would need to be–”
“Reid, not now,” Derek cut him off.
Aaron looked up from the folder he was reading. “We can’t go anywhere else. This is the only place to stay in town, and it’s the only place that was approved and booked.”
“They said they will probably have it going again in under an hour. Maintenance is working on it now,” Rossi announced as he entered the room, stepping past JJ. “They apologized for the inconvenience.”
It was eleven at night, and everyone was in clothes they were sleeping in except for Aaron who still wore his suit, minus the tie and jacket. You didn’t know how he wasn’t freezing in only his white dress shirt. The rooms at the inn were relatively tiny, but the team had all managed to cram into Aaron’s room, who got one to himself this time. They’d all flocked to his room in an attempt to figure out if staying somewhere else was possible, except for you, who had already been there.
You were sitting on the couch in the room next to Aaron as you attempted to help him figure out how this particular unsub was kidnapping his victims. The couch was particularly small, leaving no room between you and him. The entire side of your thigh was pressed against his, warmth radiating off of him despite the cold room.
Aaron sighed, laying down the folder and running a hand across his temple. “I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands. Everyone, go back to bed. Hopefully the heat will be back on soon.”
“You coming?” Emily, your roommate for the duration of time you would be in North Dakota, asked as everyone filed out of the room.
You shook your head. “I’ll be there soon. I’m going to look over this one last time and see if there’s anything I missed.”
Emily told the both of you goodnight and left the room, leaving only you and Aaron still sitting together.
He made you very nervous. 
Aaron was older, extremely accomplished, more experienced in the job, and working with him alone was nerve-wracking. You’d proven yourself immensely in the short amount of time you had been a member of the BAU. Still – he was wonderful at everything. The idea of being wrong around him was terrifying.
As you continued to look through everything laid out in front of you, you couldn’t focus. It was so cold to the point where you couldn’t feel the tip of your nose anymore, and you were slightly shivering, crossing your arms in an attempt to warm up a little.
“Looks like I should’ve brought a winter coat to sleep in,” you attempted to joke.
The left corner of Aaron’s mouth tipped upward as he stood up and moved to the small closet. “It is pretty cold, isn’t it?”
Before you knew it, there was a brown blanket being draped across your shoulders.
It wasn’t very thick nor was it very comfortable. In fact, it felt a little scratchy to the touch as it brushed over your bare hands, but Aaron situated it until it was entirely wrapped around you while his body hovered over yours. You stopped breathing momentarily, your heart picking up its pace every time his hands scraped over your own arms. Even through your thick sweatshirt and the blanket, you could still feel his touch.
“Thanks,” you muttered. Your heart rate had gone back down to normal now that he was moving to sit again.
“I can’t have one of my agents going hypothermic,” he joked and gave you one of his rare smiles; the ones that were usually reserved for outside of work.
You weren’t blind – Aaron Hotchner was a gorgeous man, and you wouldn’t deny that just the scent of his very expensive cologne alone was enough to make you feel slightly dizzy.
However, that's all you thought. He was your boss, and you were dealing with a breakup that was still laying heavy on your heart and constantly consumed your thoughts.
But even after the heat started working only half an hour later, you didn’t remove the blanket and temporarily forgot about the person who broke your heart while you worked next to him.
Three.
It was six months into your job when you found yourself having one of the worst days ever.
You’d woken up late and to a text from a friend letting you know that the ex you’d been getting over for half a year was now social-media-official with the person they told you not to worry about, you spilled coffee all over your car and your white top resulting in you being even later for work as you had to go back to your apartment and change.
You were a stumbling mess when you finally made it to the conference room for the meeting that you were six minutes late for. All eyes were focused on you as you mumbled apologies and sat down while trying to listen to Aaron’s voice. It was some housekeeping things and maybe you should’ve listened, but your head was elsewhere.
The rest of the day did not go well either. Halfway through the day, you had managed to screw up the fax machine, trip over your own shoes, and give yourself not one but two paper cuts. All of it sounded like minor things – a paper cut shouldn’t have set you off so badly, but it really did.
By the end of the day, you wouldn’t have minded if the ground opened up and swallowed you whole. Once you did one more thing, you would finally be able to go home.
“Come in.”
Aaron’s office was a place that you had grown to not fear so much. In the beginning of your job, every time you had to go in, it almost felt like you were in middle school walking into the principal’s office as he sat there at his desk with a stoic stare and hardly any emotion in his voice.
“I got your email about needing to speak with me,” you told him, coming inside and shutting the door behind you. “What did you need?”
He looked up at you as you moved closer to his desk. “I just wanted to know if you were okay.”
You frowned. “I thought you said in the email that you needed to speak with me about something important?”
Aaron nodded as if it was no big deal. “You’ve been acting off all day. How you feel is an important thing – even if you think it isn’t. So, are you okay?”
Your heart broke at his kindness. He was always nice to you, maybe nicer than he should’ve been, but calling you into his office just to make sure you were okay after a bad day made you wonder why no one else had ever cared about your feelings like this.
“I’m okay,” you told him. “It’s just been a terrible day.”
Still sitting at his desk with his full attention on you, Aaron asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
You wouldn't lie – you did think about his proposal for a moment. There weren't many people for you to talk to. You had friends, but not many in Quantico other than your co-workers. You’d moved alone without knowing anyone, and you worked so much that there was rarely time for you to go out and meet new people.
But Aaron was a busy man. He was probably just offering to be polite – there was no way he cared that much to hear about your miniscule problems when his job was as hectic and busy as it was.
“No, Hotch, I don’t want to keep you here any longer–”
He cut you off. “I’m already here; it doesn’t matter. You can talk to me. I’ve been rather concerned about you.”
At that moment, you couldn’t come up with an excuse as to why the idea of him thinking about you was enough to make your heart flutter.
“It’s… it’s stupid,” you started, taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. “I had a bad breakup right before I moved to Quantico. My ex didn't really care when I went to the Academy, but they exploded when I told them how I finally got this job. It was constant fighting before they gave me an ultimatum: them or taking the job.”
“And you chose the job?”
You laughed, feeling a little pathetic. “No, at first, I didn’t. They really got it stuck in my head that I wasn’t good enough to do this. I was going to turn it down and stay, but I changed my mind last minute. I found out this morning they’re now with someone else. Then, I was late, I fucked up the fax machine, and I got a couple paper cuts. It’s nothing, really – it was just a bad day.”
Aaron moved around in his seat, leaning back a little and crossing his arms. “It isn’t nothing if it bothers you.”
“I didn’t know you were a therapist,” you tried to joke, squirming awkwardly in your seat. You were already feeling vulnerable and the way he was looking at you wasn’t helping.
“Only part-time,” he said. “Don’t tell anyone – someone may think I have emotions.”
His face was completely stoic when he said it, but as soon as you started to laugh, he joined in.
“Really, though, I’m okay – just exhausted. I think the universe just hates me right now.” You stood up to leave. “I want to beat the rush hour traffic, so I should head out, but thanks for checking on me.”
He nodded in acknowledgement and you were on your way out while thinking the interaction was over, when he called out your name.
You stopped, hand still grasping the door you were about to open. “Yeah?”
“It’s their loss.”
A frown appeared on your face. “What do you mean?”
“Your ex,” he explained. “You shouldn’t lose sleep over someone who doesn’t know how lovely you are.”
Lovely.
You’d been called a lot of things in your life, probably even some adjectives better than lovely, but the way it just rolled out of Aaron’s mouth as if it was a casual, every-day-like occurrence made you feel warm.
Aaron Hotchner thought you were lovely and knowing that kept a smile on your face for days after while the wounds that had been given to you by someone else slowly healed.
Four.
After a year of working with the BAU, you ended up with your first unsub-related injury.
You thought going to the hospital was pointless because you truly felt fine, but both Derek and JJ argued relentlessly for you to go due to the nasty gash on your head. Unfortunately, you were outnumbered and sent to the hospital for an evaluation after the unsub you were after thought it was okay to slam you on the ground a little too hard, resulting in a blow to your head when you went down and hit the concrete.
JJ rode with you to the hospital in the ambulance that you, very much, did not think was necessary. After seeing a doctor, it was determined that you had a concussion. With a thick bandage on your wound and a drive home from JJ who gave you strict rules on taking care of yourself while you healed like the mother she was, you were finally alone in the comfort of your apartment after a long day spent in Manassas – the location of the latest case.
Now that the adrenaline had worn off, you were starting to feel the symptoms and the sound of knocking on your door felt like nails being drilled into your head.
However, the person standing on the other side when you opened the door made your head spin faster than the concussion did.
Aaron was standing on the other side of the door, one hand holding a brown paper bag with a look of worry on his face. He was dressed casually in a navy blue sweatshirt and jeans, nose slightly red from where he had walked through the cold November air to get inside your apartment building.
In other words, he looked very good. It was hard to not grab and kiss him.
You’d developed somewhat of an attraction for your boss since that fateful day in his office. Not that you hadn’t been attracted to him before, but it now felt more like a serious affection and not some small crush – the first time you felt this way about anyone in a long time.
“Hi,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another upon seeing you. “How are you?” He paused after his eyes glanced at the very obvious bandage on your forehead. “Wait, I don’t think that’s an appropriate question right now. I’m sorry.”
You giggled despite the throbbing in your temple, moving to let him into your apartment. “I’m as good as I can be right now. Come on in.”
He walked into your apartment, following you into the kitchen after you shut the door and locked it. Aaron had only been to your apartment once after giving you a ride home from work, but this was the first time he’d ever been inside.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” He asked while you got a glass of water.
You nodded slightly, careful to cause any more pain. “Probably, but I can’t get any rest until my medicine kicks in and my head doesn’t feel like it’s about to bust.”
Aaron winced. “I tried to come to the hospital, but JJ had already taken you home by the time I got there, so I came here. I apologize for coming unannounced and so late, but I had to make sure you were okay.”
“You do that a lot,” you told him, leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen. “Making sure I’m okay.”
“I happen to care about you a lot.”
Hiding your smile behind the glass of water, you took a sip before focusing your attention back on the bag he brought with him. “What’s in the bag?”
It seemed as though he had forgotten he was still holding something. He raised it up and held it out to you, an almost-shy look dancing across his face that you’d never seen before on him. “I, um, made a stop at the store for you on my way over. It’s just over-the-counter medicine, extra bandages, and a couple snacks that I know you like. I figured it might help you out since you can’t drive for the next two days.”
You couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on your face. It was almost as if every time you thought Aaron couldn’t get any more perfect, he would prove you wrong.
He continued as he sat the bag down on the counter next to you. “I also wanted to tell you that Strauss said take all the time you need to recover.”
You gave him a quizzical look. “She did?”
There was only silence between the two of you as you looked at each other until he shrugged. “Well, I told her that you’re going to be taking all the time off that you need, and she didn’t really say anything so take all the time you need.”
“It’s just a concussion,” you told him. “I’ll be back to work soon.”
“A concussion is a serious thing,” Aaron said with a frown, not liking the way you brushed the injury off as nothing. “I’m glad you’re okay. Morgan said you hit the ground pretty hard before he cuffed the guy.”
You took another sip of your water before sitting it down. “I’m alive and well – Derek was just worried.”
As much as you were enjoying the feeling of talking with Aaron in your kitchen, the heaviness you felt in your eyes reminded you that it was nearly midnight, and you’d had a long day. The yawn that escaped your mouth didn’t go unnoticed.
“I should go and let you get some rest.”
You really didn’t want him to go. There weren't many other opportunities where you would get Aaron in your apartment like this. It felt oddly domestic, and you hated the fact that you loved it so much. But he was right – you did need the rest.
“Thank you again for stopping by,” you told him as the two of you walked the short distance back to the front door. “And for all the stuff you bought. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” he said, his hand lingering on the door knob. “If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call.”
He was opening the door before you called out, “Wait,” your mind flooded with déjà vu from the time he stopped you on your way out of his office.
Aaron paused and turned to look back at you. His body hadn’t left the room yet, but the door was slightly ajar where he opened it. 
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked over to him and threw your arms around his broad torso engulfed in the softest sweatshirt you’d ever felt.
“Thank you,” you softly said. “Not just for tonight, but for, well, just caring about me.”
He didn’t waste a second reciprocating the hug as he wrapped his arms around you even tighter, careful not to get near the bandage on your forehead and further hurt you. He was like a human heater – warm, tall, and you fit perfectly against him.
One hug from Aaron was like a band-aid healing any problem you had – even the external ones. Maybe this was what the placebo effect felt like and if this was it, you wanted it over and over again.
“Of course,” he muttered, arms still locked around you as if he needed this more than you did.
When you finally parted, his cheeks were dusted with a slight red shade as he wore one of his grins that you’d grown to love and receive more often. “Goodnight.”
Even though you had a raging headache and a painful cut on your temple, it had nothing on the big smile you kept on your face even as you drifted off into sleep that night still feeling warm and giddy.
Five.
It had been almost two months since you hugged Aaron in your apartment.
Since that night, something changed in the relationship between the two of you. You couldn’t really place your finger on what had changed, but there was a shift. Tension was thick – not in a bad way but in a way where you wanted to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to you any time you were alone.
You also had the feeling that he felt the same way. Aaron had been a profiler for many more years than you had been, but you liked to think you were good at your job. You could read him and from the way his eyes watched you, you could tell he was feeling the same tension in the air.
It was New Year’s Eve, and David Rossi had, after a lot of pleading from Penelope, agreed to host a small get-together for the team plus family including Will, Henry, and Jack – the latter two were currently running around the, very expensive, house, which was driving Dave insane as kept watch to make sure nothing got damaged due to the kids.
You were standing outside in the backyard, the late-December air hitting your face as you glanced down at your phone that told you it was almost midnight.
When you thought back to who you were around this time last year –  a woman in a new city with a demanding job and hardly any friends, still crying yourself to sleep over someone who didn’t deserve your tears – it made you want to smile.
It had been a little over a year since you started working at the BAU and as you glanced inside through the large glass doors, you felt like you belonged. There was no more doubt, no more tears, and no more days where you wanted to run away.
“What are you doing out here? You’ll freeze to death.” You turned around to find Aaron closing one of the glass doors and moving towards you.
He was wearing a black quarter zip and jeans – a casual outfit but one of your favorites. For reasons that you couldn’t understand, Aaron Hotchner in a quarter zip made you feel things.
“I came out here because it’s cold,” you told Aaron, leaning against a railing and crossing your sweater-covered arms. “It’s so hot and stuffy in there. It’s like Rossi is trying to burn us all alive.”
Aaron laughed and walked over next to you. He leaned against the railing, his arm brushing against yours. “He does keep his house pretty hot.”
“Is Jack having a good time?”
Jack Hotchner was probably your favorite kid you’d ever met. He was a total sweetheart, and you instantly got along with him from the first day you met him.
You didn’t miss the way Aaron’s face lit up a little as you mentioned his son. “Yes, I think so. He’s a big fan of celebrating the New Year because he gets to stay up late.” You then watched his face fall a bit. “He’s been missing his mom a lot lately, so coming here tonight – it’s good for him.”
You knew of Aaron’s ex-wife who had died before you joined the team, and you knew the terrible way that it happened. You’d also heard that it greatly affected Jack and Aaron, even though he hid it more than he should’ve.
“It must be hard on him, but I’m glad he’s having a good time tonight.”
Aaron smiled. “He loves the team, but I think you’re his favorite.”
You grinned. “No way! I’m honored.”
A comfortable silence grew between the two of you with no sounds other than distinct chatter and laughs from inside of the house. You glanced over to Aaron who was pulling out his phone.
“Eleven fifty-eight,” he said. “You want to head back inside and watch the ball drop?”
You almost said yes at first because you actually did want to see the ball drop, but you also wanted a moment alone with Aaron considering you rarely got them in a setting outside of work. Maybe you were being selfish, but you didn’t care – a few more minutes with him wouldn’t hurt. “I think I’m going to stay out here.”
He didn’t say anything. Aaron kept his phone out so the two of you could keep an eye on the clock app, its tiny, orange hand moving around the twelve, now signalizing that it was eleven fifty-nine.
Your eyes kept watch on the clock as it got closer to passing twelve again. You were starting to get nervous. A part of you expected Aaron to go inside after you told him you weren’t going back in – it wasn’t like he was obligated to stay out in the cold with you.
However, he never went back inside and as the clock kept getting closer to midnight, only seconds away now, you wondered if he was thinking the same thing you were: the traditional New Year’s kiss.
You discretely searched for any sign on his face that gave away if he was going to kiss you or not. You so desperately wanted it but if he wasn’t thinking the same thing, there was no way you were going to embarrass yourself by trying to kiss him.
Ten.
Still no sign – you were starting to panic a little.
Nine.
What were you supposed to do?
Eight.
Would he rather have a handshake? He did have a pretty firm grip.
Seven.
No, screw a handshake. Who gives someone a handshake at midnight on New Year’s?
Six.
He put down his phone and was starting to turn toward you.
Five.
Was he actually going to kiss you?
Four.
“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong, but can I kiss you?”
Three.
You couldn’t form words, only a nod, eyes slightly widened.
Two.
He was moving his hand up to your cheek and, oh dear, this was actually going to happen.
One.
Aaron’s lips were warm against yours, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever been kissed with so much delicacy. He was gentle and respectful. Your hands pressed against his chest before you finally moved them up to the nape of his neck under the collar of the quarter zip you loved so much, pulling him even closer to you.
You felt secure and safe pressed up tightly against him with one hand of his cupping your jaw as the other rested firmly on your lower back. Your mouth was opening up before you could even stop it. Aaron smiled against your lips as he felt it before he deepened the kiss.
 This time, he was kissing you much more firmly and with the feeling of his tongue moving against yours, you couldn’t remember the last time, or if ever, you felt the way you did. His hand pressed even harder against your back, making you inhale sharply during the kiss.
There was a time in your life when you thought you would never find someone else – that maybe you were destined to be alone all because of one person who didn’t see your worth, but Aaron made all the pain go away to the point where you hadn’t thought of the person who hurt you in months.
Aaron made you feel like you were floating all the time. He reminded you of your worth instead of breaking you down. He was a man who did both the small things like throwing a blanket around your cold body and the big things like bringing you snacks and medicine after a hit to the head – the definition of “if he wanted to, he would” in the best way possible.
“Hey! You guys missed the – holy shit!”
You flung yourself off Aaron and looked behind him to see Emily standing there, her mouth wide open. You’d never seen her utterly speechless like she was at the moment. She opened and closed her mouth for a moment, glancing back and forth between the two of you before she finally found something to say.
 “Morgan and Reid owe me fifty bucks.”
(+) One.
It was three months into Aaron Hotchner’s relationship with you when he knew with absolute certainty that he loved you.
His job was difficult, and today was no different but instead of shaking it off before going home, he couldn’t help but feel a cloud of emotion follow him all the way back home to his apartment.
He knew that you were waiting on him because the two of you were supposed to have dinner. You’d gotten to leave at a reasonable time and not, he glanced down at his watch, at nine at night. Aaron had a lot of duties and responsibilities as Unit Chief, but he sometimes wished he didn’t in order to come home at a normal hour.
Aaron saw you sitting on his couch as soon as he unlocked and opened his front door. You smiled sweetly as you looked over at him, no trace of frustration or anger at how late he was getting home.
“Everything go okay with those reports? I know Strauss was giving you a hard time,” You said as you glanced back down at your phone you were holding. When he didn’t answer, he saw you look back up at him again but this time with a frown on your face.
He knew the look he had on his face was giving him away, but he just couldn’t force himself to not feel the way that he was feeling.
You put your phone down on the coffee table and stood up to move in front of him. “Are you okay?”
“That’s usually my line to you,” he attempted a joke, but it never reached his eyes.
You responded with a half-smile. “Bad evening?”
Aaron nodded, not saying anything further. You moved closer as you wrapped your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, honey,” he said, instantly feeling a little better just from your touch. “I missed dinner. I’m not the one who should be upset.”
You pulled back and rested both hands on each side of his face as he kept his situated on your waist. “Someone told me once that how you feel is an important thing even if you think it isn’t.”
He chuckled a bit. “Using my own words against me, huh?”
You cracked a smile. “It’s okay that you missed dinner. I know you had a rough and busy evening. Don’t worry about me. We can have dinner another night – it’s not a big deal that you couldn’t make it.”
You were looking at him so sincerely and touching him with so much care that he couldn’t help but pull you back in again, eyes closing at the feeling of another hug from you.
“Let’s go to bed,” you mumbled to him. “You look like you could go for an early night.”
Aaron wasn’t sure what he did to deserve someone as good as you – someone who cared for him even on days when he didn’t care for himself. You were kind, understanding, and patient. Sometimes he couldn’t even believe he was lucky enough to be with someone like you.
So while he wasn’t sure of how deserving he really was, he was one hundred percent sure of the fact that he loved you and your lovely self.
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Note
For blurb night, carlos and lando taking the kids golfing together
Note: I don't know that much about golf, so please excuse if some term is correct or some technicality isn't quite right!
"You requested to karts, is that correct?", the lady at the front desk checked, "they've been packed like you asked, here are the keys", she smiled as Carlos accepted them, heading outside to see Lando just about containing all six kids into the safe perimeter.
"Sainz little ones, you go with your papa! Norris little ones, follow me!", Lando said after catching the key for his kart, helping Charlotte to the seat next to him so he had more control over his youngest.
"Off we go!", Carlos cheered as she started driving to the first spot.
The idea came from Carlos' wife, suggesting you and her should have a spa day to enjoy yourselves, so your husband's decided to take the kids from you and play golf with them.
"Daddy, do I get to swing?", Matilda asked once they stopped and Lando gave each of them a smaller club.
"Yes, Tilly, after uncle Carlos lets Benjamín have a go first", he said, "let's all take a picture so we can show mummy!", he suggested, setting the phone on the kart and gathering your children. Lando managed to find little matching golf kits for the kids and one of his own that looked nice along with theirs, "looks great guys!", he said after he checked the photo, not helping his smile when he noticed how much the kids looked like him - his little clones, you would say.
"It's my turn!", Matilda yelled, going up to her spot and looking at her father, "I need your help, daddy!", she waved him over.
"You do it like this, careful - yes!", Lando clapped, "Good job princess, that was a very good one", he offered her a smile.
"Clara, amor, you can't be so harsh with it because the club will hit the sand and that's no good", Carlos stated, helping his daughter with it.
"Daddy, am I winning?", Fraser asked as they drove off to the next spot of the course.
"I think you're third, buddy", Lando mused, "the last one you did wasn't so good, but I bet you'll be able to get this one really well! It's very similar to that one we did at the beggining".
"Papa! I got it, I got it!", Mateo clapped as the ball he hit fell on the hole, "I did it! Take a photo so I can show mama!", he asked.
By the time they finished, Carlos and Lando decided to stay in the course for a little longer, the rest of the people playing already beyond that spot which allowed them to get the kids to have some snacks, juice and water before they made their way back.
"We were a daycare for an afternoon, two of us for six kids", Lando stated as he zipped the kids' backpack.
"We did a good enough job, but at least this will tire them out", Carlos reasoned.
"My little rocketship does not look like she has a low battery", Lando argued as they watched Charlotte run around in the grass, giggling and squealing loudly.
"What is it they say? What goes around comes around", the spaniard patted his friend's back.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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negansbackdoorwhore · 7 months
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Scrimmage
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Summary: Negan coaches college ball for a small community college. One of his players however keeps up a little game that he is tired of playing
Warnings: swearing, age gap (early 20s reader, Negan is mid 40s), smut, p in v sex, daddy kink
Negans POV
There she goes again, purposely wearing those fucking short shorts. They hugged those thighs tights and made her ass pop. Fuck, what I’d do to her if she was mine for one night. But I can’t risk my fucking job over pussy. I try to ignore the way she sways her hips when walking past me and how she’s able to be a star during practice. There is no denying that most of these girls are crushing on me but Y/N just has to make her desires known in a more outlandish way. She was by no means shy about the attraction, sometimes I would slip up a flirty comment to amuse her game. But never actually go to touch her or anything stepping over that boundary.
Tonight was a scrimmage game to see how well we are prepared for the season. Along with to see what we need to practice on. As the game went on, a few students watched in the gym and I focus on different plays.
“C’mon girls! Defense, defense!” I call out and blow the whistle for a quick time out. They came over to the side line and gather in a circle.
“We’re doing great so far, but defense needs work. It doesn’t really work out well if we can’t keep the opposing team off our dick, right?” They laugh at my joke and nodded in agreement. I blew my whistle once more to set off the game again. Much improvement in our team and I shout out my criticism and let them finish out the last quarter as champs. We had a little get together after they showered up in the cafeteria. Apparently, there was a little froyo social, bullshit that college campus’s do. I snuck away as the girls started talking whatever girl language they do. Hopefully, they have fun tonight. I sigh and walk back to the gym to gather my stuff to go home. As I unlocked the gym door, I go to my office and flip the light switch.
“What are you doing here?” I sigh looking at Y/N on my desk, her legs are crossed. “Not much. Just waiting for you…Daddy.” I hissed as I heard that nickname and shook it off. I move pass her and grab my duffle bag.
“Get out of here and go to that gay froyo social.” I say making sure all my things are in my bag. I then heard movement around and hoping she left. But instead heard the locking of the door.
“Y/N. I’m telling you one more time, leave.” I say in a stern tone and remove my hat. I run my fingers through my hair as I turn off my computer.
“Am I not attractive?” The question made me turn my head towards her. “You are very attractive, Y/N.” I say throwing my bag on my shoulder.
“Am I not your type?” She keeps on asking and trying to trap me. “I don’t have a type.” I say trying to dismiss her. “Then what is it? I’m twenty one, so it’s legal and I’ve caught you staring at me numerous times…” She says reaching to touch me but I dodge the advance.
“This is inappropriate and you know it.” I say going to unlock the door and then heard her let out a dramatic sigh. “I see how it is. Coach Smith is just too scared.” I gripped the door handle tight, I knew exactly what she was trying to do. I just shook my head and unlocked the door to make my leave. “Fine. Run away like a coward.” I heard her say in a disappointed tone.
-
Another week passed and I was grading the last few exams. I hated graded these papers especially since I’m supposed to be hands on. But can’t be so lucky as the curriculum calls for state testing and at least a few tests to exercise their brains. I sigh feeling bored already and sip the coffee from my thermos. It was late evening as I got stuck here. I did however procrastinate my duties, I had a couple dates with a few faculty members. Unfortunately, they were boring and even worse no pussy either. I growl under my breath and felt it was too long since I’ve felt the warmth of a woman. Two long months and not getting my dick wet. I lean back in my office chair and ran a hand over my chin. As I took a break, I heard some noise outside of my office. It sounded like some stupid kids finding the empty gym to fuck. I would leave it alone but hearing some guy get lucky instead of me, just pisses me off. I go to stand up and open my door to see some frat boy with Y/N.
“Shit! You fucking lied to me!”
“Hey! I didn’t know he was still here.” She retaliated and I was fucking furious. For one, she was here with this idiot and the other thing was that she intended to let another person have her.
“That’s no way to speak to a lady. Now, I’ll give you two options. One, you can leave and I won’t do a fucking thing. Two, I’ll suspend you and fail your sorry ass.” I say looking at them both. I scowl at Y/N to make her feel how angry I was.
“Fine. I’m out of here.” He walked away quickly and Y/N was shooting daggers at me. “Thanks a lot! I was trying to have fun but I can’t get that when you’re around.” I shook my head and grabbed her wrist. “I’m so sick and tired of your ass. You need someone to fuck you? Fine, I’ll change your fucking life.”
She didn’t put up any physical protest or verbal as I lead us to my office. I could practically feel her excitement as I push further inside and lock the door.
“Get your ass on the desk.” I say removing my cap and see her immediately jump to my orders. I smile to myself seeing how happy she was, I was too. Finally get to feel that tight cunt on me along with her ass. I bit my lip and approach the desk. Her thighs opened for my body to fit and instantly my lips were on hers. I held her by the waist as I leaned down to deepen our kiss. Fuck, they were so soft and tasted like honey. I groan into her mouth and felt her hips buck. I grin against her lips as I felt her thighs going around my waist.
“Eager?” I teased her and grind against her, she let out a cute whimper to feel my semi erect cock. I bit my lip and moved to bite her neck. Her skin tasted just as good as I sucked a dark hickey on her bare neck. Want everyone to see that she’s owned by me. And me alone. I growl as I move lower and felt her body through the thin shirt.
“Fuck. Coach.”
“Not coach. Negan or Daddy, either one is fine as long as you scream it.” I heard her breath get heavy at the statement and took the opportunity to kneel down. Y/N looked down at me, all that cockiness she had was out the window. It turned me on even more, seeing her slick mouth shut and her actions were all shy. All because I have her trapped under my grasp. Her limbs were trembling as I had my head between her thighs. I bit my lip looking at her turn red.
“Someone getting cold feet?” I teased as I reach to tug away her shorts. She tensed instantly and almost pushed me away. I look up at her and stopped my hands from going further. I can read how nervous she was to do this and pecked my lips on her knee.
“It’s okay. Just relax baby, Daddy won’t hurt you.” I coo as I gently massage her calf. I move to stand up and moved my hand up from her leg toward her chin. I held her cheek gently in my hand as my thumb swept along her skin. She was still flushed and I saw how she wanted to hide from my gaze.
“And I thought you’d be more fiesty. Guess that was all bullshit, but don’t worry. I know how to treat a fine piece of ass.” I kiss her again but this time, softer and more attentive. She moaned against me and I reached my hand lower to touch the front of her shorts. Her thighs daring to close but I stop the resistance. “Be a good girl. Let me touch your pussy.” I purred and her muscles slowly untensed. I caressed her through her shorts and felt her hips buck.
“Mm baby. You like that?” I say pressing harder and kissing the mark I left. She only nodded and I bit down on that spot, making her let out a wince.
“Use your fucking words.” I warned. “Yes, I like it.” She whined feeling my hand go beneath the fabric. I felt the little damp spot on her panties making me growl. Fuck, I barely even touched her. I could feel the excitement in her body after making such a noise. I go by her ear and nibbled her earlobe as I growl again. She let out a moan this time as my finger teased her clit.
“Negan, it feels-“
“Oh yeah. Tell me baby, tell me how I feel.” Y/N moaned and went to hide her face in my chest. Her hands reached to grip onto my sweatshirt. I laughed lightly and shoved her panties away. I moaned at the warmth of her nectar hit my skin. I felt her erect clit practically twitch against my touch. Her body clings to me as I finger her dripping cunt. Her noises were muffled into the fabric of my sweatshirt and I kissed the top of her head. Her thighs dared to shut. Damn, she must be close.
“Don’t do that. Be a good girl and let me make you come.” I say against her ear and felt her pussy clenching on my fingers. “Daddy!” She squealed into my chest as I felt her come. I groan feeling her sweet juices coat my hand and brought her into another kiss. I groan and pulled away to take off my shirt. I heard Y/N catching her breath and guided her hand on the buldge of my sweatpants.
“It’s big…” She said in a shaky tone but I reassured her motions and pulled down the waistband. My cock sprung out almost hitting poor Y/N in the face. She visibly shook at the sight of me.
“Don’t worry about putting it in your mouth. We’ll do that another time, for now…” I take her hand and had her touch my shaft. Fuck, her skin was soft and warm. “Just play with it. Get a good feel for me, sweetheart.” Her palm gently went down my cock and back up. She was still shaking but it only made me twitch in her hand.
“Don’t be scared to get a little rough. Go on and give a firm squeeze.” I instructed and she obeyed immediately. I bit my lip feeling her slowly jerk me off. “Oh shit. That’s a good girl.” I praised and see her body language change, she must like that. I smirk to myself and go to stroke her hair. “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?” I asked and gently massaged her scalp. Y/N let out a light sigh at my attention and it encouraged her to go faster. I moan and starting to buck my hips against her. Her grip grew tighter as I felt her.
“Shit. This is making Daddy feel so fucking good.” I smile and brought my hand to lift up her chin up at me. Her eyes were full of desire and I wanted to fill that need. Along with her pussy.
“Behind? Or do you want to face me?”
“What?” She asked and I laughed lightly at her question and squeezed her chin. “How should I fuck you? Behind or do you want look at me?”
“Can I look at you?” She says in a hesitant tone and I gently push away her hand off my cock. I lean over her and kissed her lips as tugged for her shorts to come off. Her hips lifted up and I quickly toss them onto the floor. She shivered feeling the cool touch of my wooden desk as my hands brought her legs to my waist.
“Like this?” I ask knowing fully well how embarrassed she was having me doing this to her. Her cheeks were flushed and her thighs tensed. “Hold on to me, I want to feel you scratch my body as I make you all fucking mine.”
“Yes Daddy.” She whispered and I felt my cock turning to steel. Y/N’s arms go around my shoulders and I lean lower to guide my body to tease her wet slit. I groan at the feeling and heard her let out a moan. I bit my lip and eased the tip inside. She was already squeezing me and I go deeper watching her expression closely.
“Relax for me.” I whispered and stopped my movements feeling her clenching harder. Her nails scratched my shoulder and eventually her velvet walls relaxed.
“I’m sorry. I’ve never felt someone this big.” She winced gently moving her hips up making me moan. I took the opportunity to go all the way inside and moaned at how good she felt.
“Fuck. Tight little pussy on you, feels so fucking good on me.” I moan slowly moving my hips as she whimpered to feel me stretching her cunt. I reached my hand to hold her hip as I kept my thrusts slow to make sure she was adjusting to my size. I was really giving her the special treatment, might as well savor this. I lean closer to her face and kissed her softly. She moaned on my lips and I moved up for her legs to go onto my shoulders. She let out a surprised noise as her back landed onto the papers on the desk. I could careless about that shit right now.
“Oh Y/N.” I groan as I move inside of her as her cunt started overflowing with her sweet juices. Her hold grew tight on me as I started to pound her into the desk. I couldn’t hold myself back, it felt too fucking good.
“Fuck! Daddy!” She whined as my hips seem to have control over me. Well fuck, I think I might be in love with her cunt. “Good girl, letting me have you like this.” I groaned feeling her clench down on my cock.
I growled as those perfect manicured nails dug into my skin and I pumped my cum deep inside this perfect pussy. I moan and dug deep to hit that special spot and watched her mouth hung open. Her eyes shut and tears roll down her cheeks. Fucking fuck fuck fuck! This might’ve been a mistake….
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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months
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I Triple Dog Dare You (Astarion x F!Reader) (Part 2 to Pinkie Promise)
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CW: Angst, mentions of trauma, mentions of sexual trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of parental death, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of voyeurism
Both titles have been inspired by the song ‘School Nights’ by Chappell Roan
Dedicated to @amica-aenigmata-naboo - thank you for demanding a part two 😂
Part 1: Pinkie Promise?
✨this has been proof read once and I have been awake and working since 3 am. It is not 10:04 pm. Please help✨
You finish your letter by folding it into thirds and then writing ‘Star’ on the back. You take a deep breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth- reminding yourself that you already know he likes you back, you are just taking that last extra little step. You also can’t attempt to write this letter again- this is your 8th draft, the others turning into flames in your hands very quickly.
You want to ask Astarion to be in a serious relationship with you. You have only been seeing each other (as far as you know) and you’ve spent almost everyday sleeping with him in his tent since you had ventured into the Underdark. Most of the time- you don’t even have sex. You stay up talking together and sharing soft kisses- no clothes, just intimacy. You adore those moments immensely.
Life around camp has also been good- everyone is finally beginning to get along. Shadowheart and Lae’zel even silently respect each other now. It feels like one big happy family and you are grateful for them when this whole journey feels far too big and scary.
Recently, you and your crew have been playing an ongoing game of “Triple Dog Dare”. The only rule is you can’t dare someone in the middle of a battle or a serious mission. Otherwise- it’s all fair game and if you decline to do it, you have to take the darers’ guard duty or help them with a chore. The chores were limited to one task and it can’t be taking down a whole tent + equipment- the one time Astarion had to take down Gale’s tent had been disastrous. The dare had been to allow Gale to take you on a date- Astarion shot back with a “I triple dog dare you to swallow my fucking knife wizard.” All parties (minus Astarion) agreed that this dare was not to be followed through on.
The game has had… less than favorable results. Watching Wyll and Karlach streak across the camp while you were piss drunk was awful. Oh and the time Gale almost died because Wyll dared him to spy on the two of you for 20 minutes. You hadn’t heard his thoughts, but Astarion had. His head had shot up from between your legs with a furious look in his eyes. Astarion had covered your naked frame up quickly with his shirt (his trousers still on) and chased after Gale until he pushed the man into the freezing Underdark water.
The group then had to make a few more rules people didn’t realize they had to make. In Gale’s defense- Wyll didn’t specify and Wyll is a real snob about which chore he gives the person. It’s also the worst chore and usually includes de-stinking his boots. You are almost positive Wyll does this on purpose as repayment for all the headaches this groups’ shenanigans has given him-oh and the horns.
Karlach triple dog dared you today to finally confess your feelings to Astarion. You had gawked at her and then dared her to do the same with Dammon. You shook on it and it was done.
Finding out that Astarion’s life is in far more danger than any of them had realized shook you to your core. You are tired of wasting time being afraid to ask him what you already know (or at least hope you know). You are silently grateful that Karlach has given you the push you needed (you doubt she would have actually made you do anything- she wouldn’t put you on blast like that).
It just never felt like the right time in the past. Having your life be in constant danger is kind of a romance killer and you aren’t sure how the hell you are supposed to do this.
Do you court him? Do you ask him to court you?
You ultimately settled on just flat out telling him your feelings- politics be damned. It’s not like you were welcome in High Society anyway.
Now you are in the safety of Last Light Inn and it feels like the right time to bring this up. You worry that waiting any longer will result in him looking for someone more serious or maybe you would always just be a person he slept with during the journey to his freedom.
You hope you are more than that and you are almost positive you are. The way he looks at you, kisses you, and talks to you is so genuine- his eyes are always so soft and so are his lips. He protects you and you protect him. You adore him and you think he adores you too.
So naturally, walking up behind him and Shadowheart talking isn’t a nerve wracking endeavor to you. This is all going to go off without a hitch!
Or so you thought.
Your ears twitch and you barely hear what they say to each other, but you do. Gods you wish you hadn’t.
“You are insufferable, Cleric.” Astarion groans, “I already told you my answer.”
“Oh please- you follow them around like a lovesick puppy. You can’t honestly tell me you have absolutely no feelings for them.”
Shadowheart takes a long sip of her pint and raises an eyebrow at him. You remain in the shadow- your heart thumping out of your chest. Maybe he’ll say a lot of wonderful things about you? Maybe your hopes will be-
“Nope, not a single feeling outside of my carnal desires,” he says nonchalantly, “that’s all it’s been and they know that.”
Oh.
You feel all the air leave your lungs as you crumple your letter and shove it in your pocket. You don’t know why you insist on listening further.
“Then I triple dog dare you to go talk to someone and take them to bed. You will have no problem bedding that Harper who keeps giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes- I’m sure.”
Oh please no.
“You offend me- that’s hardly a challenge,” he says while standing up, sauntering over to the Harper that is eyeing him.
You promptly turn around and hurry out of the building. You can’t breathe. You should have known better.
You had always been Tav the Guillable, the Plain, the Insufferable, etc, etc. You had been thrown at your aunt and uncle when your parents passed. Your aunt and uncle lived in a nice Human only city and you are a ‘filthy half-breed.’
One of the boys in your Archery class found out you had a crush on him so he asked you to meet him by the river. You showed up with wild flowers for him- something your mother told you Wood Elf’s do to show affection. He showed up with your entire class- all of them laughing at you for being stupid enough to believe he liked you and then his future partner beat the shit out of you before throwing you into the rushing water. You wished you hadn’t survived, but a nice family who was tolerant towards Half breeds saved you. Your Aunt and Uncle were pissed. Admittedly, so were you.
They treated you terribly- constantly trying to marry you off to old men who you would turn away with your boorish behavior.
You really thought you had it right this time. Everything felt so natural and right- like you had been made for each other. What did you not pick up on? What did you miss this whole time? How could you have been so blind?
You pick up your bedroll on the way out- you were all going to sleep on the floor of the inn with the rest of the Harpers and Refugees, but you couldn’t pretend you wanted to be near Astarion like he does with you. You aren’t ready to confront him- you aren’t ready for the pretty illusion to be completely shattered and swept under the rug yet. You were just getting used to being someone he loved and now the whole world is crumbling underneath you.
It was barely anything- obviously- so why does it hurt this much?
You find yourself in front of Damon’s metal shop and he’s talking to Karlach. You clear your throat and they both look at you. Karlach suddenly looks concerned when she sees the look on your face.
“Could I sleep above your shop tonight?” You say with a strained voice, “behind the hay? I just… need to be alone.”
“Sure thing- it’s all yours.”
You smile gratefully at him and begin to climb up the ladder.
“Do you want me to tell Fangs, Soldier?”
You can hear the question in her voice. She is your best friend after all.
“No- please don’t,” you smile at her sadly, “I would prefer he doesn’t know where I am.”
Karlach nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, and you go behind the hay and lay out your bedroll. It smells like him and you don’t know if that’s helping or hurting at this point, but you are mostly too tired to care.
Your heart hurts as you try to find sleep. You throw the crumpled note across the little loft and silently begin to cry.
At least you knew what it felt to give and receive love- even if it was false and unrequited the entire time.
*****************************************
Astarion is barely present for the conversation with the Harper male who is trying to impress him into bed. Astarion is only thinking of you and how much he wants to get this over with so you can find a more secluded spot together. Every morning to every night feels like far too long to wait to have a tender moment with you.
Astarion imagines leaving lingering kisses along your collar bones and your cheeks. He thinks about how he desperately needs to rebraid your hair. It’s been frizzy and unruly from all the fog- the baby hairs sticking out all over the place. He also needs to patch up your armor again- your Meilikki Cleric Armor ripped apart from the events of yesterday.
Mostly though, he wants to spend the off day tomorrow with just you. Astarion wants to find somewhere to hide or even just rent a room so that you can just be in each other’s presence un interrupted by the world. Astarion’s heart glows at the thought of the sexless intimacy you share. He’s so happy it’s not a priority to you- it’s allowed him to do things at his own pace and as he wants to which is very freeing to him.
Astarion had finally admitted to himself that his plan had well and truly failed- he has fallen for you very hard.
He doesn’t know what possessed him to lie to Shadowheart. He mostly just didn’t want to be pressured to leap forward. Astarion isn’t sure if you want to be something real with him and he also doesn’t know if you are hell bent on being a proper noble woman who marries a proper noble man. It would break his heart if you rejected him and Astarion has no desire to feel that way. For now, Astarion will bask in his peaceful ignorance.
The Harper man eventually scowls at Astarion and tells him to fuck off if he isn’t interested. Astarion goes back to Shadowheart with an annoyed look on his face.
“Fine- you win, Cleric,” Astarion scowls, “I have feelings for them. I couldn’t even give that man a moment of my attention because I couldn’t stop thinking about them so if you will excuse me-“
Shadowheart squeals in delight and Astarion rolls his eyes. Astarion walks around the entire inn and property- you are nowhere to be found. Astarion is beginning to become more and more worried. Astarion is pacing out front when Karlach and Dammon come up to the Inn- ready to hit the sack.
“Karlach,” Astarion says, a bit more panicked than he means to, “where is Tav? I’ve been looking for them everywhere and I can’t find them!”
Karlach looks suddenly uncomfortable and like she definitely knows where you are.
“Karlach if you know where Tav is-“
“I do!” She says exasperated, “but they specifically asked that you don’t know and I don’t blame them! You gonna go fuck them and pretend to have feelings for them again for the billionth time?”
Astarion is stock still and horribly confused. What in the hells is she talking about? Karlach shoves a piece of crumpled paper into his hands and shakes her head at him.
“You know- if you are going to fuck with someone’s feelings,” Karlach tries to keep her patience, “maybe don’t pick the nicest person in the room. Honestly Fangs- fuck you. I thought you were better than that.”
Astarion is at a loss for words- which is very rare for him. He slowly unfolds the note- hoping it might put some of the pieces together.
Star,
I have really come to enjoy your company and our time together.
I am quite smitten with you and I’m too nervous to say this out loud, but I would like to be able to call you my partner (in a romantic sense)- if you return my feelings, that is.
If not, no worries. All I want is for you to be happy.
-Tav
The pieces click together like a haunting tune.
You had heard everything that was said between him and Shadowheart. Obviously you didn’t stick around for the important part, but Gods you must be heartbroken.
Astarion has to assume you were hiding somewhere in Damon’s shop if Karlach is the one who knows where you are. He had been avoiding the shop initially so that Karlach could have her privacy with Dammon. Now it’s fair game.
Astarion quickly walks towards the shop and as soon as he enters- his ears pick up your quiet sobbing. Your thoughts are loud and unguarded- his words playing in your head over and over again. You are wondering why you aren’t good enough. Astarion finally sees what you have refused to show him- your parents are long gone, despite the fact that you talk about them as if they are waiting for you to come home. Your Aunt, Uncle, cousins, and an entire society have rejected you, humiliated you, and belittled you. This just happens to be the salt in the wound. You keep looping through the thought of how stupid you are to have missed this of all damn things. How could you even begin to think he would actually want you? Plain, boring, ugly, half-breed Tav.
Oh my Darling, what have I done?
Shadowheart had been teasing him relentlessly ever since you had all arrived back to the safety of Last Light Inn. You had led them all to support Astarion in finding out more about the scars carved into his back. It had been incredibly dangerous and Shadowheart had had to heal him more than usual- he kept putting himself between you and every bomb, warrior, etc. He wanted her to stop- he likes the privacy of his little world with you.
Now he’s demolished that world and your heart in less than an hour. Astarion was actually nervous earlier- realizing how deep his feelings for you are and how much he wants something real with you. He just isn’t close enough with Shadowheart to share those feelings out loud willingly. Astarion is thrilled that you feel the same way, but now he isn’t sure he can convince you that his feelings are genuine and not a giant lie.
Astarion slowly makes his way up the ladder and he hears your sobbing stop- one single sniffle occurring before silence.
“Darling?” he asks quietly.
The air is tense and Astarion feels more nervous than a school boy with a crush. You hiccup.
“Astarion.”
Your voice is strained and cracks- he can hear the effort you put into trying to make your voice sound steady and normal.
You are definitely not happy with him. You usually address him as Star when he first arrives in your orbit.
Astarion takes it as a good sign that you are at least willing to speak with him.
“It’s come to my attention that you may have overheard a conversation without context and without staying until the end,” Astarion says slowly, “I was hoping you might let me explain myself.”
You sit up gingerly, your head bent, and look up at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen- you often worry it between your teeth when you are upset. He doesn’t like when you are upset, but he does love how incredibly delicious it makes your lips look. Your skin is under a veil of tears and your cheeks are stained pink from you rubbing away the sadness from your face. It’s unfair how beautiful a crier you are.
Astarion decides to go against his better judgement and he crawls towards you. You look at him with a guarded expression, but you don’t fight him as he pulls you into his lap- his fingers moving the hair out of your face and wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks.
“Shadowheart was teasing me for being… overly concerned with your safety today,” Astarion begins, “I just didn’t want to- her and I aren’t close enough for me to-“
Astarion huffs in frustration and looks down at the floor momentarily before making direct eye contact with you. He decides to use the tadpole- maybe showing will make more sense than explaining.
Astarion shows you his original intentions of manipulating you- his musings over your beauty, but your aggravating naivety and the annoyance at your persistent kindness. He feels you flinch a little, but your body begins to relax against his as you watch his feelings change. Astarion lets you see all of his jealousy, confusion, fear, and adoration for you. He even lets you see his turmoil during sex. Astarion enjoys himself with you- more than he’s ever enjoyed himself with anyone, but the self-loathing and disgust pose a challenge during intimate moments.
Lastly, Astarion shows you how scared he is to lose you. He lets the feeling consume him and he feels like he’s a rope ready to snap at any moment. His mind wanders to how much he doesn’t ever want to have to miss you- the beautiful moments you have shared together and how much joy you have brought to his life. You make him want to be a better person- well at least in your presence. Astarion would do just about anything for you.
You press your forehead to his and release a relieved sigh. Astarion pulls you in for a deep, tender kiss. The kiss is needy, but not in a sexual way. Astarion needs you to know that he really does adore you- his affections are absolutely not fake.
He finally has to pull back to let you breathe and you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You make me so so happy, Darling,” Astarion whispers tearfully, “I really don’t want to lose you.”
“Star, I adore you for all the sentimental reasons,” your eyes sparkle as you look at him, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Astarion tries not to show how relieved he is, but the way his shoulders slump gives him away.
“We don’t have to have sex, you know,” you say quietly, “I can wait until you are ready. I want you to be happy and feel loved more than anything.”
Astarion is surprised by the choked sob that escapes his lips- pulling you in closer.
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Yeah well,” you pull back and smile at him, “I triple dog dare you to prioritize your wants and needs first!”
Astarion rolls his eyes at you and tries to hide the grateful tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You are his most favorite person across all the planes. He is so grateful for you, your patience, and how much you try to understand him so that you can support his healing from centuries of abuse.
“Cheeky pup.”
You grin widely, “the cheekiest.”
“Hmmm well,” Astarion slyly smirks, “if we are going to play this childish game…”
You pout, jutting your lower lip out. Astarion places a chaste kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.
“I triple dog dare you to be something real with me.”
Astarion’s nerves are going haywire- praying to every God he can think of that you still want to be serious with him.
Your smile could light up the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands. You give him a short sweet kiss on the cheek and A kunik*.
“Dare accepted.”
*A kunik means nose kiss in Inuit
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summerssover · 1 month
Text
𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐔𝐬 ⊹ ִֶָ ❲ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬❳
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘, in which you save your relationship with chris because of his brothers trying to break you up
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, chris x toxic!reader, chris x poc!reader
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒, angst, language, crying, manipulation, arguing
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▐ ❝ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 ❞
𓏲 🎀🎱 𓂃 ✦ 💒
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“yo, quick question”, chris announced to get his brothers attention.
nick and matt turned their heads towards chris, noticing his distraught facial expression, almost instantly sending them into a worry as well.
nick was the first to speak up, “what’s up”
“um”, chris scratched the back of his neck, looking for words that couldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. “could yall come look at this”
as chris held up his phone the two triplets got up from where they’d normally lounge on the couch to get a closer view of his phone. chris watched in anticipation while his older brothers eyes scanned through the heated text messages between him and his girlfriend, frightened at what they’re reaction might be.
“wow”, was all matt said and nick followed with a simple “hmm”, causing chris to sigh and drag his hands down his face.
“am i cooked or what?”
matt nor nick knew what to tell the boy. this wasn’t the first time chris would come to them for advice, in fact this wasn’t even the tenth time. between you and chris they couldn’t tell who was more of the problem here, you would vent to nick about chris, chris would try to vent to nick but gets upset when nick already knows your side, so goes to matt only to find out that nick’s already told him too, and it’s the same shit every other week.
“i don’t know, just call her or something, that usually works”, nick patted his brother’s shoulder and went back to whatever was on the tv at the time.
matt followed nicks actions before stating, “yea, she’ll probably be over here in a little bit anyways”
“what so you guys don’t care either, how the fuck does anyone except a relationship to work if no one seems to care but me”, chris raised his voice as the blood started to rush within him. no matter who it was, he felt like all anyone ever did was brush him to the side and disregard anything he had to say. you were the only person who didn’t make him feel that way, even his brother did it from time to time but he knew he could always count on you to treat him like he was special. at least he thought he could. both brothers stared, appalled at the words that left chris’s mouth.
“sorry? since when were me and matt in a relationship with you guys”, nick exclaimed.
“you know what i mean”
“do you know what he means?”, matt budded in. he was so fed up with all of this, it was actually his breaking point. “i don’t even know why you’re still putting up with this shit, are you not tried?”
“tired of what?” chris looked at matt then to nick for some form of help as to what was going on now.
“shut the fuck up matt”, nick let out a breath while thinking of the right thing to say to their mess of a brother right now.
“listen we absolutely adore yn, she’s one of our closest friends, love her very dearly. we also love that you were able to find someone but like don’t you see the pattern that’s going on here”
he paused for another moment to see if chris was catching on, but to his dismay he wasn’t so he kept going. “how does all this make you feel, how is she making you feel right now?”
“not good—”, nick cut chris of before he could finish his full thought. “not good right, and i’m almost entirely sure that this is not the first time she’s made you feel like this, i’m pretty sure yn feels the same, are you picking up on what i’m saying?”
chris knew exactly what nick was saying he just didn’t want to believe it and he definitely wasn’t going to say it out loud because that would make it true. the more he thought the faster his heart went
“matt what do you think about this”, chris breathed out.
he hesitated before responding. “i don’t think you guys are the best for each other”
“jesus matt”, nick interrupts at matt’s bluntness.
“what, i’m done telling him what he wants to hear”, he turns back to chris and grabs his shoulder, “you guys have been toxic for a while now and it’s only been getting worse, open your fucking eyes kid”
chris just sat there. he could bring himself to say anything, let alone what to think, so he got up and left. once slamming the door he immediately went to your contact, pacing around his room waiting for you to answer. you did on the fifth ring.
“hello”
now that he’d finally got you on the other line he realized that he didn’t even think about what he was going to say, what was the purpose of calling you? “hey”
his voice came out way more wobbly than he expected, like he’d already been crying.
“you feel better now?” you teased.
chris let out a breath before speaking, “yea, can you just please come over here”
“yea, i’m on my way baby”
three beeps sounded from his phone, he threw it on his bed and continued to pace around, thinking about what to say to you. he didn’t want to start a fight but there were things that just had to be discussed. a huge part of him wanted to forget the whole situation and cuddle you once you walked through that door like he normally would in time like this. before he knew it a text appeared on his phone saying that you finally arrived. he didn’t bother to go get you.
you greeted matt and nick as you walked through their door but didn’t stop for small talk, they didn’t expect you to anyways. as you approached the door small sniffing could be heard and once it opened you were met with chris sitting on his bed with his head in his hands causing you to frown. you pulled his arm away and held his head against your stomach.
“what’s the matter baby, you alright?” you spoke softly.
he quickly prepared for what he was about to do next. “we just need to talk for a little”. chris pulled you down to sit on his left thigh so you were facing him.
you wiped the few tears from his cheeks. “about what?”
“about us”. he started to rub your thigh, wanting to provide you with some sort of comfort at the topic.
“oh, ok”
chris decided that the best way to get this over with was to rip the bandage off. “what do you think about our relationship?”
“um we’re.. good, we have our moments from time to time but we always come back”. you defended while running your fingers through the back of his head then placing a soft kiss in his hair.
there was a long wave of loud silence. “nick says we make each other feel bad and matt agrees, he says we’re not good together and this has been going on for longer than we thought. i don’t want to break up with you, but i don’t want to disappoint them and—” he cut himself off from word vomiting while running his fingers through his own hair. 
after a long pause chris stuttering up again, “i don’t know what to do i just want us to be okay”. he was hoping that at least one of you would be the sane one in the conversation but you were just has delusional has he was.
“ok, woah that was a lot to dump on me, are you kidding right now?” you laughed nervously in denial.
“i’m being serious yn, they think we’re toxic” he raised his voice a little as anger stared to bubble up in him.
you got off of his lap and stood in front of him. “what the fuck are you saying chris, your gonna’ let the fate of our relationship be in the hands of your brothers? your a grown ass man babe” you matched his energy plus adding a little of your own.
“they have a point though, we barely see each other so you get all passive and aggressive, i try to fix it by making more time for you and you don’t care, then we’ll make up, but nothing ever changes, sounds familiar?”
“because you don’t want to, what type of boyfriend forces themselves to spend time with their girlfriend and you’ve been so consumed with la that i was pretty sure this relationship was the last thing you thought about” all of this was far too much for chris. so much information was just fed to him in such a short amount of time and the more he dig the deeper it got.
his eyes squinted, “where is this coming from?”
“your actions, i’m not the type of person to make anyone be with me, i just can’t imagine not being with you, so i stay”
and just like that the whole thing was flipped on chris. he couldn’t even lie to himself, he felt terrible, the last thing he ever wanted to do was make you feel like you were anything but the most important person in his life, he felt selfish, narcissistic even. how could he put himself in your shoes then paint you out to be a villain? you’ve known each other since sophomore year and you’ve been together since that summer with no problem till now. chris was almost sure he was the problem.
“i can’t imagine not being with you either, i don’t ever want that to happen and i’m so, so sorry for pushing you to the side, i guess i was so scared of you doing it to me that i did it first, i’m sorry” chris practically begged for forgiveness, eating right out of the palm of your hand, it was too good, he was so gullible.
you brought him into your warm embrace, sitting back on your designated area in his lap. “it’s alright sweet boy i forgive you, and don’t listen to your brothers okay?, what we have stays between us and we’ll be better this time. i’m glad we had this talk” you placed a tender kiss on his lips followed by another.
“me too” chris mumbled before connecting your lips again. “are you going to let me make it up to you mama?”
“of course pa”
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₊˚ˑ༄ؘ      ❪  𝙰𝚄𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙴  ❫  ✩₊˚.  ◛ ·˚ ༘ ᝰ
⁀➷┊ ‧₊˚. definitely making a part two, YOU, MATT, AND NICK ARE ABOUT TO FIGHT
idk i think the way chris can’t express his feelings is so cute to me
tell me what you thought girl don’t forget to send me your request in my inbox
taglist- @worldlxvlys (COMMENT TO BE A PART OF THE TAGLIST???)
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xxchumanixx · 1 month
Note
Nothing at all pt.2? When they get caught ???
Nothing at all pt. 2
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Tim Bradford x reader
Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, secret relationship Word count: 1.804 Authors note: Hello love, here it is: part 2! I'd like to mention beforehand that I'm not homophobic, nor anything close to it (just feeling like I should mention it, before someone tries to call me out for whatever they might interpret). I'm not entirely happy with how it turned out, but I'll maybe add a part 3. Also, it's not entirely proof read yet (it's almost 2 am in Germany and I'm sooo tired right now) Anyways, I'm still loving the idea behind this. Thanks for liking it as well! Read part one here! Enjoy!
It was easy, falling for Tim Bradford.
Hiding, that was the real quest.
It hadn't been long, since you and Tim had become a couple. What once was a way to blow off some steam, having been ignited when you drank a little too much, became more somewhere along the way.
Avoiding Lucy's hawk like eyes and questions became harder the more time passed, though.
She was true to her word, snooping and eavesdropping wherever she could. It wasn't long until you were no rookie anymore, but it seemed to get harder to hide the more time passed.
The worst one though, was Sergeant Grey.
Since you and Tim had become a couple, there happened a few things caused by you and Tim not being a hundred percent on board during calls.
Though it wasn't anything too serious, Grey became suspicious.
Which was bad.
You would have been doomed, if he found out before you ranked up. So you had to lie, stirring his assumptions and suspicions somewhere else - to you being lesbian and Tims best friend.
Yeah, you weren't proud of that lie, especially considering that it could have backfired so hard, you could have not only gotten fired, but declared morally reprehensible either.
But you had said these words faster than your brain could have caught up, Tims eyes widening so much, they could have competed with plates.
And Grey had apologized for snooping in your private life, which made it even worse. You felt so guilty, that you had a very hard time even looking at him during roll call.
You just hoped things wouldn't get out of hand too much, before you could tell him the truth.
Counting the days, you became more impatient the closer you got to your exams. Which meant that you became more reckless as well.
It was hard enough with Lucy hiding behind every corner, you didn't need to risk everything by giving into your desires now, so close to the finish line.
Yeah, so much for that...
The way she shouted in triumph when she then finally caught you red handed, would haunt you in your dreams, you were sure of that.
She startled you so hard, that you headbutted Tim, causing him to jump back, holding his nose, as he glared at his rookie.
She had caught you making out, hiding behind the police station like teenagers in high-school.
You hadn't seen Tim during the day, his shift matching yours, but nothing had led to you running into each other. It had been a long day, so you were more than excited to see him.
And as his tongue plunged into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips in the darkness, as yours brushed through his hair, she suddenly stood beside you.
God damn it.
Biting your lip you tried to hide in the shadows, face buried in your hands, as you silently died of shame.
But you felt relieved somehow, too.
At least she wouldn't stalk you and Tim anymore.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Tim snapped at Lucy, trying not to lose his cool entirely and let her fall through immediately, even though she made it really hard for him.
Her brows furrowed, as she realized that she not only had upset him, but she had made him angry as well.
Very angry.
Before she could have responded, he continued on. "Now you have what you wanted - are you happy now?" He yelled at her and you were grateful for the parking lot being otherwise empty at this time.
She swallowed, averting her gaze as she fumbled with the hem of her jacket. All the joy she must have felt moments before, was gone now. She had gone too far, only to prove that she was right.
Normally, she wasn't like that. But the way Tim had treated her, doing his Tim-tests and all, she wanted a little revenge.
That, was too much though.
She knew that.
Swallowing, she looked back up. "I'm sorry." she apologized, biting her lip as it quivered treacherously. "It somehow got out of hand, I know that now. I shouldn't have pressed so much. I'm gonna go now, good night."
With that she turned, almost running towards her car.
Mouth agape you stared after her, as Tim shook his head, biting his cheek in anger. He hated it when people snooped around his private life, especially when it was at work and he was ranked higher than them.
She wasn't even supposed to be so interested in it.
It wasn't her business.
"Fuck." you breathed out, realizing that she now held the power to get you both fired. Tims eyes met yours in the dark, the street lamp the only source of light.
"I'm gonna talk to her." you told him, looking back at where Lucy stood moments ago. His brows rose, as he looked at you like you were out of your damn mind.
"Someday she would have eventually learned about us, anyways. She'll get over it, yes, but I don't want her to stay mad at us. And then there's that thing with Grey... If she tells him, we're doomed."
He sent you a pointed look, like he was trying to say the thing with Grey goes entirely on you.
Sighing, you nodded to yourself, before you fumbled for your keys. "I'll call you later, okay?" He only nodded, before he walked you to your car.
"Try and not be too mad at her. She's still your rookie." you reminded him, hoping to convince him not to let her fall through. He huffed, biting his cheek.
"I know."
____
Knocking at Lucy's door, you fumbled with the strap of your bag. Would she even open the door, if she saw it was you?
She did, because only a few second later the door opened, revealing her distraught face. She stepped aside wordlessly, letting you in.
Closing the door behind you, she walked towards the couch, plopping down on it. You followed her, setting your bag down as you took a seat beside her.
"Is he gonna fire me?" she asked, not looking at you, as her voice seemed distant. You shook your head, leaning back. "No, he won't." you assured her. "I wouldn't let him."
She huffed, fumbling with her fingers, elbows resting on her legs. "I thought it would be funny, but I haven't realized how much I invaded your privacy." she started to explain, looking down at her hands.
"All I wanted was to prove my theory right. I didn't consider the consequences. But when I saw you two, it felt like I just won a competition or something."
You chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation, causing her to look up at you.
"You have no clue how good it feels to finally have you knowing about it." you admitted, sending her a crooked smile. "It's like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. Grey was suspicious, as well. I might have told him that I'm lesbian."
Her eyes widened, as she laughed, shocked.
"You did what?" she shouted, covering her mouth with her hand. Nodding, you laughed as well, as she slid up on the couch, body turned towards you.
It was all so absurd.
"When we're ranked up, I'm gonna tell him the truth." you said, wiping at your tired eyes. "I feel so bad for lying to him. Tim was so shocked about it, that he almost slipped, almost telling Grey the truth."
She shook her head, before she looked down at her hands again. "I'm not gonna tell him, no worries." she assured you, looking back up. "After all you didn't say anything about me and John, either. That doesn't mean, that I understand why you didn't trust me enough to tell me, though."
You felt bad, knowing that she was right.
"I was scared." you admitted, looking down. "It wasn't that I didn't trust you, it was just that he is your TO, and my superior officer as well. I couldn't risk anything - even though I seemed to be rather dumb today, making out with him in the parking lot."
She cocked a brow at you, silently agreeing.
"We all do dumb things." she then told you, scooting closer. "So, are you guys officially dating now?"
You snorted, swatting at her arm, causing her to laugh as well, before you started to explain everything.
____
"She won't say a thing."
Instead of calling Tim, you had driven to his place. He nodded, as he let you step inside. "Did she want something in return?" he questioned, closing the door behind you, as you took off your jacket, hanging it on the clothing rack.
"No." you gave back, shaking your head, as you stood in front of him. "She's my friend." He nodded slowly, clearly surprised.
Standing on your tiptoes, you leaned up to him, hands interlocking at his neck, pressing your lips against his. His hands found their way to your hips almost automatically, as he returned the kiss.
His lips were soft, moving slowly against your own, as he leaned down, so you wouldn't have to keep standing on your toes. His tongue brushed your lip and you let it in, continuing were you had left off.
One of his hands moved up, cupping your cheek as he tilted your head, deepening the kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, the desire taking over, as it suddenly knocked at the door right behind him, causing you to break apart.
Breathing heavily you looked at each other.
He seemed as clueless as you, clearly not expecting any visitors.
Still he opened the door, making you wish he'd just ignored it instead.
It was Grey and his wife Luna.
His mouth was as equally open as yours and Tims were, staring at each other in utter shock and confusion. Only Luna reacted differently, tilting her head, as she tried to make sense of the situation.
You were the first to close your mouth again, as realization sat in. Turning away from them, you silently fumed.
This couldn't be happening, right?
It had to be a bad joke.
"Sergeant, what are you doing here?" Tim inquired, as you bit on your thumb, trying to stay calm. They didn't see anything, right? Surely they wouldn't look through the windows up front, before knocking at the door.
Who were you kidding, honestly?
Grey needed a moment to respond, his wife beating him to it. "Didn't you say she's a lesbian?" she asked, clearly knowing that you weren't in fact a lesbian.
Turning back around, you saw Grey balling his hand to a fist, shaking it as he tried to keep his cool, clearly struggling.
"We don't have time for that now." he then said, clenching his jaw. "Someone broke into our house, we need somewhere safe to stay at for at least a couple hours."
Tims brows rose, nodding, as he let them in, his cheeks turning pinkish.
"Don't think I'll forget about this, though!" Grey added, eyes narrowing, as he angrily pointed at you two. You both nodded, mumbling a 'yes sir'.
You were officially doomed.
"Crap."
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thestargayzingheroine · 2 months
Text
Why A Better World is my favourite "Evil Superman" Story
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So in the last two decades or so, there's been a notable amount of dark and edgy stories around superheroes turning evil and whatnot and most of them really love to do their own expies of Superman. I've never been the biggest fans of these kinds of stories.
And then there's the actual stories of Superman and other heroes being outright villains or at least just massive assholes. In recent years, this has been largely thanks to the influence of media like the Injustice Games or the Synderverse DC movies. It's... honestly become a trope I am tired of.
Because you know the damnest thing? There is a story that does all these ideas really damn well and arguably better. It is the two-parter from the Justice League cartoon "A Better World".
Now, I am aware how most people favouring the DCAU has become a bit of toxic nostalgia at times and it's something I myself am trying to work through a bit. But in this case, I do think it's the best idea of doing an evil DC story, much better and more interesting than the Crime Syndicate, who if you ask me are not very interesting, though I do remember liking the Crisis On Two Earths movie a lot, which funny enough, was originally going to be this two parter before various things led to it being canned and then later repurposed as a direct to DVD movie.
Anyway, my main crux of why I love this story is simple... The entire Justice League turns evil... and the reasons are very much in-character for all of them. You look at the scene with Justice Lord Batman for example.
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As fucking evil as the Justice Lords are... Batman can't quite fully hate his alternate self for his reason for taking part in all this being basically one-step further than his own mission, that no child should ever go through what he did. Hell, I recall reading that the reason the writers had Batman drop his batarang at the end of this scene... was because he genuinely wouldn't be able to come up with an argument to that.
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Superman likewise kills Lex Luthor because yeah, Luthor literally exploited the flaws in Democracy and became president of the US, threatening to kinda basically start world war 3. It's obviously horrible... but Superman is a character whose main motivation is making the world a better place. And if people who abuse the systems of power of the world are hurting people, why shouldn't Superman put a stop to that?
And yeah, Superman should obviously never kill, he's the most paragon of paragons of the DC universe, a man committed to always being better than the villains he fights... but this is him pushed to his most logical extreme. Hell, the main Superman knows this and its why Lex used his knowledge of this alternate universe as part of his plan in the season after this, to goad our Superman into crossing the line because yeah, there's a part of him that could go this far.
But right as Superman is about to apparently finish him, the big guy says this.
"I'm not the man who killed President Luthor. I wish to heaven that I were but I'm not."
Because Superman like everyone else, obviously would have those same thoughts and same urges. He's human.
I've kinda gone off Injustice a bit because to be honest... the injustice games were kinda just this but a bit too edgelordy. Hell, in A Better World, Lois Lane still lives and the whole genesis of it doesn't revolve around her getting fridged.
So yeah, A Better World is probably one of my favourite mirror universe stories because of the fact that well... it really is like looking in a mirror and seeing just how easy the greatest heroes can become evil and how they wouldn't be massively out of character doing so. But also it reminds us that as much as this darkness can tempt some of our finest, the ones who don't go down this dark path are stronger in heart than anyone else. Because when the world becomes a dark and horrible place, it becomes very easy to be just as dark. But even though it can be hard to still try and be a good person even in dark times, it's ultimately worth it. Because good always triumphs over evil.
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lvlyghost · 10 months
Text
One Last Time
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader.
Summary: You and Ghost go on your first mission since your break up.
Word Count: 1k
Tw: angst, hurt with very little comfort. suggestive themes. ghost being cold hearted. reader's call sign is starlight. not proofread 👻🌸
A/N: Finished this in one sitting lol, just couldn't stop thinking about it so forgive me if it's all over the place, i totally didn't write while listening to champagne problems🫶🏻✨💞enjoy
Masterlist✨
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The sun's starting to hide on the horizon, casting pink and orange shadows against the concrete walls of the abandoned building you're currently hiding in. You sort of wish you at least had your earphones. Anything to help you swallow the tense silence that's fallen between you and Ghost.
Both leaning against opposite walls, waiting until it's safe enough to go out and reunite with your team. You cross your legs, shifting in your place to a more comfortable position. The temperature slowly decreasing as the yellow burning star in the sky disappears. You didn't mind Ghost's presence. You liked him. And he liked you too; perhaps way too much for your own good.
But not after what happened.
Not after that night –12th of June–, just one week ago. When he had decided that this –your relationship– had no future. And it hurt like hell. Your ever present smile faded when you came to his barracks ready to spend another night under the covers, admiring each other. You loved him it physically pains you. He had greeted you with that stoic face of his, grabbed you gently by the arm and pulled you inside only to break your heart.
Ghost pulls his mask over his lips to take a sip from his canteen, you divert your gaze not liking what his mouth reminds you of.
You don't get to see him anymore. Not in the way he only let you. You don't get to hear his deep chuckles, or how his chest rumbles when he does. You can no longer have the pleasure of touching his pale features; or feel the stubble that adorns his jaw under your hands. Never again will his hands travel down your body nor hold you when you have a nightmare. Shared lunches at the cafeteria with the team.
Maybe it all became too much in the end.
What were you supposed to say, to do now? Act as if nothing happened? You swallow. Your heart is beating fast so you force yourself to breathe deeply.
"You okay sergeant?" He finally asks, staring straight to you. Ghost's right arm resting atop his leg, the other one splayed in front of him. The intensity of his gaze never leaves your form.
"Yeah. Just tired, Lt." You lie. Because you're not tired at all. you're heartbroken.
"Sleep then." Ghost barely does so it feel almost selfish to do it.
"I'm fine." You murmur, looking everywhere but at him.
"Look at me when I speak to you." Your eyes snap to his. Wide-eyed you fight back an insult. How dare he? "I'm still your superior out here." So you wait. You wait for him to break first. Had you been paying attention to his demeanor for the past week; you would've noticed the cracks on his façade. No one knew like you did.
But you refused to look at him ever since that Friday night. "Whatever happened that night it stays there. Don't bring that shite here."
"With all due respect, Lt." You pause feeling the tears welling in your eyes. "Shut the fuck up."
Silence falls again. Ghost's hand balls into a fist, jaw tightening so hard you can hear the bones crack as an overwhelming press on his chest settles. He had never meant to hurt you, but things were getting too serious, you were getting too close. He couldn't afford to have something like that; Ghost knew what it meant to let someone too close. And he broke that rule. You plagued his mind, his space and feelings.
Too bloody close.
"That all you've got, kid?" He ask firmly. "Try again. I'll give you another chance. Thought you more than anyone would understand."
You're shaking. Astonished by his words. The pain is unbearable. You laugh with no emotion.
"What am I supposed to understand, Ghost?"
"Why it can't be."
Shaking your head in denial you stand up, not thinking about the consequences, too enraged. Ghost is quicker though. Jumping from where he was sitting he grabs you by the straps of your combat vest and yanking you down with him. His nostrils flare from underneath the balaclava, eyes boring into yours. His visceral reaction sinks deep inside.
"There's a potential sniper out there. You trying to get killed?" He hisses through gritted teeth.
You slap his hand away from your vest, yet you don't move away from where you sit between his legs.
"Thought you didn't give a shit about me."
"You're bloody blind if you think I don't care about you."
"You don't!" You bite back. "If you cared for me in the slightest you wouldn't have tossed me out like I'm a stranger! Like nothing we went through ever mattered to you." His body goes stiff as you keep talking. "I loved you..."
Ghost can't bear the way you tremble in his arms, watching you sob. In pain. Because of him.
"I told you not to get close to me. I knew from the beginning I'd hurt you... not because I wanted to. I don't know how to do this. I wish I could be better for you, but I can't, it's all I've been my entire life. My biggest regret is that I started to care for you somewhere along the line; and when I realized, it was too late." He pauses. "Forgive me." The words echo in your ears, paralyzing your entire limbs. "I know you're hurt," he whispers your name. Not your callsign. Your real name. The one he adores to call you when he's buried deep inside you, and you cling to him like he's everything. "I don't deserve you, not even the smallest part of you." He holds you closer, you're still not looking at him, the weight of his words... it's too much.
"It was real, Simon." Your voice is soft and very quiet. "All this time it was real to me. Just because you were afraid..."
"I am fucking scared!" He yells. "Can't bloody see it?! If I lose you...-" you look up at him, mouth agape forcing as much air as you can inside your lungs. "How do I make it right?" He questions. "It was real to me too. Too fucking real."
As angry as you're feeling, broken and betrayed you bring a hand up to his pained features, lifting the mask so you can feel his warm skin again. Ghost's eyes are frantic, waiting for you to speak.
"Let me in."
Staring in the pitch black darkness, silence reigns yet again.
One last chance, that's all you need.
"Ghost, Starlight, sitrep." When no one answers the radio crackles again. "Hostiles coming your way, get ready."
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sanguineterrain · 7 months
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What about a Jason x Reader drabble where they were close friends before he died and they reunite years later, changed and burdened but still equally fond of each other? I know you could write that beautifully heartbreakingly or on the contrary, very softly and warmly :)
oh, you *debby ryan hair tuck* you nonnies flatter me 🥰 thanks for requesting! please heed the warnings, this one is technically a happy ending but it's a heavy one!
jason todd x gn!reader. tw: reader doesn't know what's real, reader thinks they're dreaming and tries to jump off a railing (but they're okay), grief, angst, jason coming back from the dead, emotional hurt/comfort.
I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary | requests are still open
****
He's on your terrace.
You walk forward, and Jason promptly puts distance between you. He looks stricken, like he's looking at a ghost.
He's not the Jason you usually see in these dreams. This Jason is what could've been.
This Jason is saved.
"Hi, Jason," you say. "Jaybird. Robin."
Jason exhales like you've punched him. He's dressed differently than he usually is in your dreams. Usually, he's in his Robin suit. Sometimes he's in his funeral suit, and his face is battered, and his bones jut out at odd angles. And he looks at you with hollowed out eyes and asks why you killed him, over and over.
"You look different," you say.
Jason huffs. It sounds wet. With blood or tears, you're not sure. It's always one or the other in your dreams.
"Yeah," he says, and God, even his voice is different than usual. When he begs you to finish the job. When he hurls blame at you.
You deserve it. You're not sure you can take it from this version of him, though. You're trying to remember where you saw a man with Jason's face that your brain used to conjure up this twisted dream.
"I think I'll jump this time," you say, gazing at the terrace railing behind him.
Jason flinches, eyes wide. "What? Don't do that."
You hum. "'S okay, Jay. I love seeing you, but I've been terribly tired this week. I don't want to watch you die again. I'd rather wake up."
He makes a small, wounded noise.
"God, what did I do to you?" he asks.
"It's alright," you say. If Jason starts to panic, the nightmares will come. And it's cruel now, seeing Jason like this, seeing what could've been. But at least he's not dead. Yet.
You start to move to the terrace. You want the dream to end.
Jason steps in front of you. His face is young, probably your age, but his body is older, powerful. His muscles are nearly the size of your head. He's so healthy and strong tonight.
"You're... you're so big," you whisper, marveling over his height and bulk.
Jason had been lithe and small when you knew him. You were certain he'd turn out like Dick, and you suggested learning gymnastics.
Jason would grumble at that, but you knew he adored it whenever Dick gave him the time of day.
He hunches now, acutely aware of his size. His knees are bent slightly, and his hands are clasped together, like he's trying not to tower over you.
The thought makes you ache. Does Jason think you're afraid of him?
"Don't jump," he says firmly.
"Okay," you say. You'll do it when he's distracted. The dream will take a turn soon.
You step forward again, arms falling open. Jason was never one for hugs, but surely he'd make an exception this time, right? You haven't seen him in so long.
But Jason steps back. You stop.
"Jason," you say, voice small. "I don't get to see you much. Will you hug me?"
"I..." The word is weak in his throat. His voice is different. Deeper. Rougher. You think about him screaming, and you shake your head to dismiss that thought.
Jason swallows. "I came back wrong."
"No, you didn't," you say. "It's never wrong if you came back."
He winces. "It is. I am. I'm... You've got a good thing going. A good life. You're goin' to college and everything. I-I shouldn't have come here."
"No, Jason, you won't ruin anything. I'm glad you're here. Please let me touch you. I've missed you so much," you beg, slightly hysterical.
You step forward again. This time, Jason doesn't move away. He lets you trace his sharp jaw, his cheeks. Green eyes bore into you. That's weird. His eyes were blue. As blue as Bruce's.
Oh, well. Your brain must be using details from whoever you saw that resembled Jason.
"This is nice," you say, and finally wrap your arms around him.
A beat passes, and then Jason hugs you back. His embrace is careful, and it's almost funny, the thought of Jason needing to be delicate with you. You don't laugh, though. You're too tired for that.
"Okay," you say, because you have a feeling things are going to turn dark. That you'll pull back and find that you've been hugging a corpse.
The cold railing digs into your spine. You smile at Jason.
"It was good to see you," you say.
And then you fall.
You wait for the drop in your stomach, to jerk awake in your bed.
Instead, Jason lunges after you and hauls you back onto the terrace. He's shaking. A breeze blows gently and ruffles his hair.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he shouts.
His arms are tight around your waist. Your heart starts to pound.
"You caught me," you say. Your brain feels like sludge. "You never catch me."
Jason moans like he's mourning. Like you're the one who died and came back to haunt him.
"God, I'm so sorry," he says, choked. "Fuck, I am so fucking sorry. I should've stayed dead."
"No," you say softly. "No. This isn't real. You're not real."
"I am, sweetheart. I—"
"No," you say again, panic rising. "You're not real. Jason Todd is dead."
Jason takes your hand and places it on his chest. His heart beats. You scream.
"Shh, it's alright," he says, tears running down his cheeks. "It's okay, it's okay—"
"You died, you died! I killed you, I killed you!" you scream, pushing at his chest. "I killed you!"
"You didn't kill me. Please, listen to me. It's-it's okay." He pulls you into his chest and tries to keep you still. You thrash, but Jason just holds you, crying into your shoulder.
"No, no, no, not again, don't leave me again," you yell, voice cracked with grief. "Not again, I can't survive losing you again. Let me wake up, wake up!"
"You're awake. I'm here. I'm here. I'm alive. Hold me. Prove that I'm real."
You squeeze him as hard as you can. You rake your nails down his neck, trying to make him disappear. Jason just hugs you tighter.
"Am I dead?" you ask, and Jason gasps.
"No, you're alive. We're both alive. Okay? Okay? Say it. Tell me I'm alive."
"You're alive," you say. "You're alive. I'm alive."
He nods and buries his nose in your neck. You grab handfuls of his shoulders, ready to wake up any second. Maybe you can take him back with you.
"Jason Todd is alive," you say, and hope to God you'll wake up to that being true.
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