#i might just give up and let myself dissolve into my bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faemytho · 6 months

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I know I JUST requested one but a friend and I were chatting and I don't trust myself to give this idea justice, so if I'm not being too obnoxious...

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before." But it's specifically Eel, referring to 1 of his lines mentioning getting too close to him might get you electrocuted

AHHH I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. EXAMS,,,,. also BY THE WAY, i dont care if i get sent 1 million requests, if my reqs are open ill take em if i like em and if my reqs are closed ill keep em until i feel like writing em. those of u who spam my inbox with all ur ideas, i love u.

he/they eel, u guys already know lol

wc: 909

Abyss Monarch did not often speak their mind. As a result of this, they were rather observant. As a result of that, when they did speak their mind, it was always some kind of statement or inquiry that hit hard, full of only absolutely necessary meaning.

Perhaps Eel was used to it by now. They knew him fairly well, or at least enough that there were definitely unspoken feelings between them that neither of them seemed content to talk about. Still, the particular question today had managed to catch him off guard.

"Eel," Abyss Monarch murmured, their voice dark like velvet and cold like the ocean floor. "Is there a reason you're so jumpy when other cookies come close?"

Electric Eel paused in the middle of a gesture, the story he'd been telling regarding Anglerfish's latest woes trailing off into nothing. He looked at Abyss Monarch, who was settled comfortably on the mattress they used for a bed, which was shoved against the wall of the broken pot they called home. It was hardly anything fit for anyone who was called a monarch, but they were content even among the dirt that smudged the floor of their home.

Abyss Monarch tilted their head, waiting for an answer.

"I'm not jumpy," Eel said, tail twitching behind him. "I just think other cookies should keep their distances from me."

Abyss raised a brow. "So," they murmured thoughtfully, pushing themself up to their feet with mindless ease, "were I to come close to you, you would ask me to retreat?"

"Well, no, but-" Eel took a step back, and Abyss took a step forward. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It's complicated. I don't wanna hurt anyone. I give off way too much electricity."

"I doubt you could hurt me, my Light."

Eel stared at them. They stared back, but did not take another step, instead folding their arms behind their back.

"Come here."

"What?" Eel exclaimed, his hair frizzing up in shock. "No. I don't want to hurt you."

Abyss Monarch chuckled, an amused, dark sound that echoed around the walls of the broken pot. "You cannot hurt me, Electric Eel," they said, "no more than the Sea can reach the Moon."

Eel gave them a helpless look. They watched him debate to himself, staring at them, flexing his hands like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. Finally, after a long moment, he sighed.

"If I hurt you, you gotta promise you won't let me near you again," he said firmly, but they could see his resolve dissolving away into the water. "Okay?"

"That is agreeable." Abyss tilted their head. "But it will not happen."

Electric Eel squinted at them. Slowly, like he was bracing himself, he stepped forward towards them. They watched him shuffle forward, careful and cautious, until he was standing in front of them, eyes squeezed shut.

How adorable he looked just standing there, they mused to themself. He looked scared, frightened, bristling up in preparation for something he thought might hurt them. A shock, perhaps.

"I'm going to touch you," Abyss warned, and lifted their hands to do exactly that.

He flinched when they cupped his face, tense and braced, electricity charging the water around them. Sparks danced over their fingers and down their arms, but despite the electricity, it only tingled. It was reminiscent of the feeling of a limb falling asleep, pins and needles, but not painful.

"You can open your eyes, Eel," they said softly. He cracked an eye open, still tense, but at the sight of them, he gradually relaxed. The charge faded. "I am alright, see?"

He breathed a shuddering breath, eyes opening and staring up at them. They let their thumbs rub across the skin of his cheeks.

"Can you hug me?" Eel asked, the words rushed and blurted out as though he hadn't meant to say them. Maybe he hadn't, given the way his cheeks darkened, and he averted his gaze. "Sorry, you don't have to. I just... don't really get them..."

Without answering, Abyss stepped forward and pulled Eel into a hug. He trembled as they wrapped their arms around him, stiff and unsure when they rested their cheek on the top of his head.

For a long moment, they stood there together. Abyss turned their face, closing their eyes and giving a contented sigh. Eel lifted his arms, and after another moment, wrapped them around Abyss to return the embrace.

"Nobody's ever really..." Electric Eel faltered, and trailed off, shivering in the hold of the abyss. "Ever..."

"Ever what, my Light?" Abyss Monarch murmured, their words quiet and soft and muffled into Electric Eel's mane of hair. They were content here, curled around him in the privacy of the broken pot they still called home.

"Nobody's ever been so close to me before," Eel muttered, the words soft and unsure, but he pressed against them, hungry and craving for the touch.

Their hearts twisted in their chest. Like them, he had grown used to the lack of touch, and yet longed for it. He was just like them. They held him closer.

"I'm not going anywhere," Abyss Monarch murmured, lifting a hand to thread through his mane of hair. He curled into them, his eyes falling shut. The dim hum of electric charge that always seemed to accompany him stayed, and though electricity danced over the two of them, Abyss did not mind it.

#abysseel #abyss monarch cookie #electric eel cookie #cookie run #cookie run fanfic #mae writes cookies #my writing

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 9 months

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so i kinda really frightened myself in the dark again and seeing tsundere mothman is back... made me think of a scenario...

imagine getting scared of the dark one night, and there are loud sounds or just strange background noises (could be extremely windy or the rain is making off-putting sounds, i'd say thunder but that's too easy </3) and you cling onto Foul Legacy of all things. maybe his shadow scared you at first but once you know that it's him, you just quietly sneak up to him and hold him close, burying your face onto that fluffy moth fuzz~ even if he's acting all grumpy and seems to be "annoyed" that you're even clinging onto him for comfort and practically refusing to let go, the thought of him being soft and trying to comfort you while you're scared one night... my heaartt...

oh dear, i hope you're feeling better anon!!! i'm giving you a big ol' hug through the screen <33

i like to think that Foul Legacy is a little bit nocturnal- he can sleep at night, but he doesn't have to, as long as he makes up those hours during the day. so when you jolt at the howling wind and the pitch-black of the night, there's no one in the room with you, and you hastily bury yourself underneath your blankets, shivering. he comes to check on you, as he often does, thinking you're asleep, and you nearly jump out of your skin when you happen to peek at his monstrous shadow stretching across the floor. but quickly you realize it's just him- it's just your grumpy moth friend- and leap into his arms, hugging his waist. he almost goes to remove you until he realizes that you're shaking, and his hiss of annoyance turns into a soft whine of concern

Legacy carefully gathers you into his arms, allowing you to lean your head against his fluffy lilac fur and gently running his claws up and down your back. if you weren't so exhausted and frazzled you might question why he's being so sweet, when he usually can't stand you, but right now all you know is that he's warm and soft and comforting, and you snuggle into his grip. he takes you back over to your bed, but you're nearly asleep in his arms, his quiet purrs muffling the sound of the wind outside. so he sits on the bed with you leaning against his chest, patting your head and letting out soft croons whenever you shift. the top of your head is pressed against his throat, the rumbles of his purrs relaxing your tense muscles, and deep in the throes of sleep, you hum in satisfaction, stress bleeding out of your body as you exhale. Foul Legacy trills quietly when he sees your sleepy smile, nestling down for his own nap as he holds you close

of course, the next morning you wake up alone again, but there's the distinct memory of someone warm and soft cradling you through the night, purring and purring until your fears dissolved into mist

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #chit chat #anon #he may be grumpy and stubborn but Foul Legacy despises seeing you in any sort of pain #slowly you begin to coax him to sleep next to you #and slowly he keeps doing it on his own until he doesn't even need a reminder #he simply climbs in and curls up. sometimes he rests his head on your stomach #short scenario #other's stuff #FAVE

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j-graysonlibrary · 2 months

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Heartbeats; Paradise Chapter 10

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.

Full chapter 10 under the cut:

Chapter Ten:

There is no definitive sign that Kade is back in our apartment but I feel that it’s true in the seat of my gut. I don’t question this intuition and walk up the stairs and to the front door. It’s unlocked—though I could have easily forgotten to lock it in my rush to leave earlier.

It feels like it’s been hours since then.

So much has happened.

I shake my head as the memories from the shiny apartment complex try to come back to me. I want to remember though. I want to pick out those small oddities from my talk with Oswald and present them to Kade.

It might stir up another fight but if he’s ever felt this way before, maybe this new information will help us both. I could hide who the information came from if I need to—if I feel it’s necessary.

That very much depends on Kade’s state of mind when I see him.

So, I rush into the apartment and head directly toward the bedroom.

A light is on and it shines into the dark hall. As I step through it, all of my prepared statements and lists of topics to cover all fade away as if they’re dissolved in that light.

Kade sits on the bed, legs pulled under him with his head bowed down. I worry he hasn’t heard me come in but he slowly straightens up and his bloodshot but still beautiful eyes land on me. He blinks a few times and his lips part but he doesn’t speak for a long while.

So I say something. I rush toward the bed, falling to my knees in front of it and holding the nearest part of Kade that I can reach, which just so happens to be one of his hands. I pull his knuckles to my lips and just rest them there.

“I looked for you everywhere.” My voice breaks and I can’t see as well anymore. It takes a moment but I realize that my vision is blurry because there are tears in my eyes. “I couldn’t find you…I was so scared…”

Kade inches closer, offering me his lap to rest my head on. He strokes his fingers through my hair and then runs them down, along the length of my jaw, soothing me.

“I took a walk around the block to cool off then I stopped in a park to really clear my head,” he says in a lowered voice, rubbing against my face all the while. “I’m still upset with you about what happened earlier today but…we should talk about it, right? Not fight and say things we don’t mean.”

Putting aside the fact I never meant what I said in the first place, I nod in agreement. I want to give him my prepared speech and, to my surprise, I’m actually able to. To an extent at least.

“Kade…” I lift my head from his lap and allow myself to be captured by his gaze. “I should have told you about Gladis. I was wrong and I won’t do that again. Losing you today taught me that I really can’t go on without you. Even just for a few hours…it was as if I wasn’t alive anymore.”

He smiles and brushes through my hair again. His touches are like a tonic and I lean into him. “I felt that way too.” As his hand comes back toward my jaw, I turn my head to kiss his palm. He lets out a soft but surprised chuckle and brings my full attention back to his face. He isn’t done. “When I was in that park thinking…I kept wondering why I was so mad at you and I realized…you were keeping secrets from me. It didn’t matter what kind but just the fact you didn’t tell me something makes me feel like you don’t completely trust me.”

His accusation hurts though I can’t deny it with the events of today hanging in the air. I did, in fact, have a date with my ex behind his back and that cannot be excused.

“I will do whatever it takes to prove to you that I do trust you and that I am a changed man.” I stand on my feet and take one of his hands with me, grasping it tight between mine. I give it a quick kiss but don’t break eye contact. “Say the word and I’ll do it.”

Kade pulls himself up to sit on his knees—still nowhere near as tall as me even with the extra boost the bed gives him but he does have some leverage to pull me closer. He smiles and kisses just below my lips.

“Just show me how much you care.”

His command registers in my body before it does my brain and I’m already lifting him into my arms before I can process what he’s said. I hold him so he’s higher than me and so he can look down at me like he rightfully should. His lips meet mine and I feel his frail arms wrap around my neck with conviction.

I lay us down on the bed, tenderly, and I run through all of the things I want to do in order to prove to Kade just how much I love him. None of it is anything we haven’t done before but I’m convinced it will be enough. Our intimacy—well rehearsed and practiced at this point—will bring us closer together as it always does.

Our clothes are removed and we retreat to the warmth of the covers. Kade reaches a hand out at some point and flicks off the lights so I can only see his outline. I must use my sense of touch to guide me but I know Kade’s body so well that this dance is like second nature.

I close my eyes at my climax and, when I open them, I’m in my office.

The previous night still clings to me in memory and arouses the sort of reaction I need to be careful of in this setting. The last thing I need is Hugo ragging on me for the slight tent in my pants.

I shake off the thought, bidding it a sweet farewell, and then head for my cubicle.

Hugo is already at work, sitting behind his desk and typing diligently. He’s being weird again, I see, and I wonder if he’ll repeat the same sentences like he did yesterday.

Yesterday…

It really does feel like a small eternity has passed and last night, alone, could have easily been three days to me. It also feels like it’s still today but I attribute that to the very detailed daydream I just indulged in.

My head dully throbs and I rub my temple with my thumb, alleviating some of the tension. As I massage, I’m reminded of Oswald’s concern when I was struck with a headache last night. The way he was sure it was “her” getting into my mind.

I haven’t thought about that since returning home to Kade. He takes up so much of my focus that everything else ends up tossed to the wayside. It’s part of why I love him so much. His all encompassing presence.

But here, in my office, a lot of that same pressure is absent. There is a persistent thought of Kade and how much I want to see him again but I am capable of pushing that aside—usually so I can work or talk with Hugo but now I’m using that extra wiggle room to think about Oswald.

He’s probably still stuck in his apartment, trying to make sense of his strange reality.

I wait to hear a woman speak to me in my mind but it never comes. It’s possible Oswald is simply crazy and that my situation is entirely different from his.

But also, maybe someone else is feeling the same things. I have an office full of people to ask and I can start with Hugo. Even if yesterday was weird, maybe today he’ll be more willing to have a conversation with me.

I peer over into his cubicle and clear my throat, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn’t respond so I do it again. And a third time, scratching my throat a little in the process.

Eventually I just raise my voice, “Hugo!”

He jumps as if startled and cranes his head up to look at me. “What’s up, Mel?”

I want to point out that there’s no way he didn’t hear me before but I decide not to. “I have a question,” I don’t wait for him to ask what it is and just segue directly into it, “Do you ever say things you don’t mean to? Or do things you don’t want to do?”

Hugo raises an eyebrow and gives me a crooked frown. “Yeah? Doesn’t everyone?”

“No, I mean…you can’t help but do them…even when you’re trying not to.” I can’t think of a better way to say it without sounding like Oswald and I don’t want Hugo to try to commit me to a mental hospital.

“Did you get cursed too?” My friend chuckles. “I told you I got cursed, right?”

“Yeah but it’s not about the curse—” I try to cut him off but he bounces back, over me.

“How about a joke then? You seem a bit tense.”

I feel my jaw hang open. I’m not sure what to say other than a baffled, “…What?” which does nothing but egg him on.

“A joke. It’ll help you relax.” Hugo grins as he winds up for it. He puts his hands up, suggesting it’s going to be a good one. “Alright, so, a guy walks into a bar, right? He asks the bartender if he can help him with an algebra problem. The bartender says he’s not a mathematician, he just serves drinks. The guy sits down with a sigh and goes, ‘well that’s not a very funny punch line.’”

I swear the room goes cold and I can almost hear the sound of crickets. Hugo still smiles like he’s delivered a great gem and I don’t know what to say. It doesn’t especially confirm or deny anything I or Oswald fear.

With a thin smile I say, “I’m going to the bathroom.”

I just need to get away for a moment and a short walk around the office sounds like a good idea. Plus, I can talk to other coworkers who might have a more definitive answer than Hugo.

No one else is up and walking around aside from me. Everyone sits behind their desks with their eyes glued to their computers. It’s nice to see everyone working so hard but I have yet to come across anyone…different. Everyone looks different from each other, physically, but they are all sitting in the same position and they are all typing at the same speed.

I stop next to one man who is nondescript but I’m sure I’ve seen him around before. I want to say his name is Jason or maybe Jacob but I’m uncertain so I don’t address him directly.

“Excuse me,” I take a more vague approach.

Jason/Jacob doesn’t respond and keeps his eyes forward. He takes his hands off the keyboard for a second, filling me, briefly, with optimism but he just switches to his mouse to adjust the windows on his screen. As soon as he’s done, he goes straight back to the keyboard.

I frown and try again, “Excuse me.” This time, I tap his shoulder as well, just on the off chance he’s so in the zone that he actually can’t hear me.

He doesn’t move.

I’m getting frustrated so I say, louder this time, “Excuse me!” I also grip his shoulder with greater force and spin him around. He can’t keep typing if he’s turned away from the keyboard.

He has to look at me.

He has to see me.

Jason/Jacob doesn’t even blink and lifts his hands into the air in front of him, pantomiming the act of typing.

I stumble backward and my heart lurches up into my throat.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing—it doesn’t make any sense. My mind races with any possible explanations but I can’t grasp onto anything with any confidence. The strangeness of it is taking precedence and I can’t think rationally.

As Jason/Jacob continues to type on an imagined keyboard, I travel a few more rows down. It’s still the same scenery, no matter where I look but I hold onto hope that I won’t have a repeat experience.

I find a woman who I know I’ve spoken to before. Her name is Claire and she started about six months after Hugo and I. We’ve had small chats in the break room and I’ve waved at her in passing several times.

She’s got her eyes fixed on her screen, the same as everyone else, but I try to retain some degree of hope. “Claire,” I call out to her, starting off with a louder, clearer voice.

Nothing.

“Claire, please,” I’m getting desperate so I set my hands on her shoulders. I shake her but she has no reaction. “Claire!”

No one else even looks at me despite my shouting. This is madness, I think and rush down to the end of the hall. I turn into the bathrooms, finding it empty, and I step into a stall to shut myself away as much as possible.

While my heart continues to race, my mind gets clearer and crisper. No one is responsive—it’s like they’re collectively stuck in a trance. But not me.

Why?

Because of meeting Oswald? Because I’m now aware that things are askew? Does that mean that, if I were to bring it to other peoples’ attention, they too would break free?

Free from what, exactly?

I’m really not sure. And that scares me more than anything.

I take out my phone from my pocket and I look at my contacts. What if I send a message with all the information I have to everyone in my address book? Now that I’m able to articulate myself, it may be my only chance. Though it could easily look as if I’m losing my mind if I don’t word it carefully.

Maybe I am losing my mind.

Maybe Oswald is getting to me.

I close my eyes tight and shake my head. When I look down at my screen, I’m a little dizzy but I focus and open up a blank text. My thumb hovers over the letters as I consider what to say. I press down when I’m ready.

“Something is wrong. I don’t know if it’s something in the air or something in my mind but I don’t feel like myself anymore. Is this happening to anyone else?”

It still looks insane no matter how many times I rearrange the words or rephrase it. I try making it less about me but it sounds like a conspiracy theory and when I lean more into how it’s affecting me I sound like I need help immediately.

I’m not sure I can send it.

A deflated sigh passes from my lips as I lean against the door to the stall. I delete the message and return to my contacts, wondering if I can just reach out to certain people in particular. People I trust will hear me out.

Kade is at the top of the list but I worry that, when we’re together, I’ll lose all focus and think only of him.

I scroll further. The name “mom” pops out at me and I stare at it for a time. I can’t actually remember the last time I spoke to her or why I feel a faint resentment toward her.

When I think back on it, I don’t have much there. I hear, in the back of my head, Oswald describing his text-only memories and my heart skips a beat in my chest. It’s not much different from what I have with my mother.

I realize I can’t even recall her face.

#heartbeats paradise #my novel #my writing

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honeysuckledaydreamer · 1 year

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Hearts and crafts

I know that love is a fire and it can burn but I thought it would feel better than this.

I thought love was supposed to feel like walking on clouds so why am I pulling eggshells from the soles of my feet.

Why does it feel like no matter what I do it’s always wrong.

I’ve been told that it’s my fault for years and years, By others and by myself. I believe it now.

I can do no right. And you can do no wrong.

Every tear we shed is because I wasn’t strong.

You’re just an Angel right.

And I’m piercing your heart every time we fight.

I’m so focused on your pain it distracts me from my own.

So busy trying not to break your heart that I can’t see you chiseling away at mine.

Why do I have to be the careful one.

Why can’t my heart be made of glass.

Chipped, shattered, pieces missing.

My heart is made of glass.

It’s made of glass and glitter and varnish.

Cheap glue holds it all together

Cheap glue that dissolves when faced with tears.

I cry and I cry and my heart falls apart.

I clean up the tears. I sweep up the pieces of my heart, and alone, I sit in my bed gluing myself back together again.

I never have enough time to do it right.

Pieces are still missing when you start another fight.

I beg for peace. I beg for more time to finish piecing myself together but you can’t wait.

You say you want to help put it back together but what do you do?

You bring another bottle of cheap cheap glue.

You’re sloppy with it too. You don’t know where the pieces go.

Only I have the slightest clue.

But you ask to help so I let you.

I sit back and watch you “try” to help.

Just hoping this time you might get it right.

But I know deep down that as soon as you leave I’ll have to start all over again.

I’ll dissolve the glue in my tears.

I’ll sit there and begin patching it up again.

Slowly, slowly, and carefully I begin gluing each piece.

Trying so hard not to misplace anything.

I carefully wipe off the excess glue.

All it needs is time to dry.

All I need is a little more time for my work to set. And then I’ll be whole again.

Then I’ll be okay.

Maybe when it’s done drying I’ll cover it in resin.

Then it won’t break anymore.

It’s not done drying yet but you knock at my door.

“It’s now or never” you say to me.

“Give me your heart” you demand.

“All of it. Without reserve”

You ask me to hand over what I spend every second trying to preserve.

“I’ll take care of it” you promise.

Like you promised last time. And the time before that. Like he did and he did.

Like they all did.

But they all lied. And when I came to retrieve the pieces of my heart, When I put it back together, I noticed that yet another piece was missing.

I filled the space with glitter. Meaningless, sparkly, glitter.

It’s pretty right? Maybe it will distract from the cracks and chips.

I’m running out of glitter though. And I’m running out of glue.

I’m running out of patience.

For myself but also you.

I’m running out of hope.

The resin comes to mind again.

It will forever protect my heart but it will forever separate my heart from feeling the warmth of someone’s hand.

Someone who might deserve to hold it.

I’d like to feel that someday.

To be held and to be safe.

To hand over my broken, glass heart and for someone to replace the cheap glitter with radiant gold.

For once I would like to hand over my heart and know that it will be more beautiful, more radiant, more cared for than I ever could achieve on my own.

But I’m beginning to wonder if that’s simply fantasy.

Did I read too much fiction when I was young.

Or did you not read enough.

I feel like I’m screaming when I ask for help.

All you hear is how loud I am.

I try to whisper but you hear nothing at all.

No matter what I do I can’t help you help me.

Am I a hopeless romantic or are you just hopeless at all things romantic.

My friends tell me that you’re not the guy because all you do is make me cry.

I hold my tongue and you call it a lie.

I say not yet and you continue to pry.

Take no for an answer and stop grasping at straws.

You broke every single one of my laws.

And you lied when you said you loved me and all of my flaws.

#love poetry #lovers #heartbroken #heartbreak

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lillianastras · 3 years

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“Hit Me With Your Best Shot” -- The Darkling x Reader

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader (no surprise here)

Warnings: none, I think

Summary: The Darkling and his second spar in the morning, after he starts to doubt her abilities have worsened over time.

A/N: I feel so great that I actually used my own experience in martial arts for writing this. Also, I’m so empowered by all the great feedback I’m getting from you guys. If anyone has requests, please send those my way!

“Rule number one,” he says, “Only take a break after saying you need a break. Otherwise I won’t know and will wipe the ground with you.” Her eyebrows shoot up and he has to fight a smile, glad he caused the reaction. “Rule number two,” he continues, hands behind his back, his wrists wrapped in cloths, to numb the harshness of his blows. “No Small Science. Whatever you do to me, you do it with your own two hands.” “That was just plain filthy.”

This time Aleksander grits his teeth, not appreciating the interruption. She is standing in the middle of the training grounds, arms crossed in front of her chest, the same irritated expression on her face since she had woken up. He could tell she was looking around, looking for an opportunity, an excuse to leave. Yet, there is little chance that anyone else is up this early, except by the pair of guards by the gate.

“The Drüsskele attacks are getting more aggressive than ever,” he hisses , trying his best not to raise his voice at her. “You need to know how to defend yourself when they hold your hands apart.” It’s not happening again, he thinks. The years have passed, but even time didn’t manage to blur the memory of Luda bleeding out on the ground. “I know how to defend myself!” She hisses back, and the Darkling gives her a cold stare.

“Ivan said he managed to tackle you to the ground several times yesterday.”

Her lips curl in disdain, but not for Ivan, he knows. She likes the Heartrender probably as much as he does, which came as a surprise at the start. He is rude and harsh, but even he manages to crack the occasional smile to two in her presence. That’s just how she is.

No, he thinks, the grimace just proves the truth in his words. Her skills had deteriorated, and she needs to get herself together. For her own good.

“Ivan is bigger than me,” she mumbles, but her eyes are staring at the ground. Even she realises this is a poor excuse, if any excuse at all.

“They are always going to be bigger than you. And I might not be there to have your back at all times.” It might not matter, he thinks bitterly, and his hands ball into fists, even if I am.

“Alright.” The easy agreement comes as a surprise, although easy might be an understatement. She gave her best efforts to keep him in bed this morning with gentle caresses, suggestive whispers and kisses down his neck. But still, he had dragged her outside as quickly as he could and she was sour ever since. “Let’s see if you get to wipe the ground with me.” She adds and he knows he managed to annoy her.

She takes her battle stance, her guard up and the Darkling sighs, eyes turning to look around. The sun is starting to rise higher in the sky and he realises he has little time left, just because no, Aleksander, you cannot ruin my reputation by throwing me around in front of everyone. Soon, people would start waking up, ready to start the day and they would have to leave training for tomorrow, when he would have to bring himself to say no to her advances again and… No. They have to start today.

She raises her eyebrow at him, challenge barely veiled, and he takes a deep breath, letting the thrill of the upcoming fight wash over him.

His first punch is not that fast, he knows, and she manages to dodge it with ease. Her elbow slams in his chest in return and was most probably going do force the air from his lungs if he hadn’t tensed. He is forced a step back. When he looks at her, there’s a small cold smirk growing on her face. She isn’t that out of practise after all. The Darkling squints his eyes and starts to pay more attention.

This time she doesn’t wait for him to charge, and when she aims her foot for between his legs, he knows he had touched a nerve. He blocks the kick with his forearm, but he doesn’t bother stop the grin that is slowly stretching on his face. Quick as a cat, he closes the distance between them, taking a tight hold of her wrists, their faces so close she could head-butt him in the nose if she wanted to.

“Is that why you’re so irritable all morning,” he asks, letting out a quiet grunt when she stomps on his foot, but he doesn’t let go. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?” This time he manages to move his foot in time and she groans as she misses. “For real?”

“No,” she answers quickly, too quickly, and he grins even wider, because her reaction is so petty, that he can’t really help himself. “You’re putting way too much faith in your ability to —”

He doesn’t let her finish and puts his foot behind hers, giving her a harsh push. She looses her balance and falls ass first on the muddy ground, shock written on her beautiful face.

He grins down at her, reaching out a hand to help her up. She finally comes back to her senses and looks around, her pants and shirt far from clean, mud covering her hands. She grits her teeth and whispers something under her breath, and Aleksander recognises Ivan’s name, followed by a string of curses. She then glares up at him and stands up on her own, ignoring his open hand.

“Again,” she demands, squinting her eyes against the reddish strays of the morning sun. The Darkling attacks again, this time not holding back as much as the first time.

He doesn’t realise how much time passes, punches delivered and blocked from both of them, until they are both panting messes, sweat dripping from their foreheads and sticking strands of hair to their skin. Aleksander allowed himself a moment of distraction, glancing around the training grounds. The palace was slowly coming back to life, voices heard from inside and the occasional kefta-clad figure running around the place.

“Scared someone will see that you’re getting your ass kicked?” Her guard is up and he can’t see the shit-eating grin that is plastered on her face, but he can practically hear it. It’s amazing what an hour of good sparring can do for one’s mood.

“You wish,” he calls back. “Final round?”

“I thought you’ll never ask.”

A smile creeps its way on the Darkling’s face. He takes slow, careful steps to the side, circling her, and her eyes follow him, not even blinking. Yet she is too focused on his movements that she doesn’t notice him close the distance at all. Just like he intends.

She is so surprised by the sudden attack, that she barely fights back when he grabs her wrist and gives her a harsh tug. He bends it behind her back in a swift motion, enough to trap it between his body and hers.

His free hand goes straight for her throat, fully pressing her back against him.

She tries to wriggle out of his grasp, but he presses her forearm slightly upwards and she hisses in pain, giving the hand that is wrapped around her throat a few quick taps, to let him know she surrenders. He stops the pressure on her arm, but doesn’t let go just yet. He leans in, his breath tickling her ear. “Not too bad,” he whispers, and he has to remind himself that they are out in public, “but you still have much to learn.”

She finally releases her, and grins when she turns around and her eyes are a little hazy. She takes a deep breath and when her gaze finds his, she shakes her head at his smirk, her hand rubbing her wrist to dissolve any pain.

“Careful General,” she lowers her voice to a whisper and theatrically looks around, as if to make sure no one is listening. “Someone might actually see you smile.” She sighs. “Can we call this a draw?”

He outright laughs at her audacity. “A draw? You didn’t win even one round!”

“I disagree.” She shakes her head and gives him a cocky raise of her eyebrow and a wave of her hand.“Plus that last one was hardly fair.”

His gaze hardens. Even though the last round really was more playful than aggressive, he had managed to disarm her and have the upper hand after all. If it wasn’t his hand around her throat, she’d be dead. She needed the practice.

As though she reads his mind, she rolls her eyes. “I won’t admit that you were right.”

He snorts a humourless laugh. He doesn’t really expect her to. “But we continue tomorrow.” It’s neither a request, nor a question. It’s an order from a General to his warrior.

She sighs and he knows she’s about to murmur some complaint. Shockingly, gives in with a shake of her head and after a long observation of her clothes, ruined from the mud, she mutters a quiet. “You’re the boss.”

He grins. “I’m the boss.”

#shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #aleksander morovoza #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #soc #ben barnes #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes fanfiction

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fluffysheeple · 2 years

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it's been three weeks since my bottom surgery, and I'm going to use this post to collect my thoughts on it. and sort of as a diary about it. maybe it'll help you if you're on the fence about getting bottom surgery, but keep in mind that I've so far experienced a lot of the inconvenience and not all that much of the benefits of my new hole. on that note, the rest of this post will be below a read more because it might get long and will definitely be TMI

First off, let me say that if the surgery hadn't been free/only cost me the €200 of my yearly copay that I wouldn't have used, I might not have gone for it. I was like 75% ok with having a penis, but I'm 100% ok with having a vagina instead, so there's my rationale. Prep wise, I had to get my crotch blasted with lasers to get rid of hair that would otherwise have ended up inside my new vagina. This was unpleasant for a multitude of reasons, including the intense pain and the dread of having someone who isn't quite as composed as a medical professional look at your genitals. I also went there to have them blast my face, though (much less painful and I went from pathetic facial hair to almost none, which is nice) so I figured I might as well. Again, this decision was heavily influenced by the fact that it was essentially free due to insurance.

I arrived at the hospital at 20:00 the day before the surgery. They gave me laxatives (which sucked) and sent me to bed. The morning of, they woke me at 6:30 and had me take a shower, then wheeled me to the operation room. Going into the surgery I wasn't very nervous because it was out of my hands entirely, but that might just be a fucked up feature of my psyche specifically. They put the breathing thing on me and I passed out instantly, then woke up in the recovery area to a doctor handing me a popsicle and saying it went well and I'd only lost 190ml of blood (how did they measure that?). Immediately after finishing the popsicle, I threw it up again. It just tasted like popsicle because I hadn't eaten for like 36 hours at that point, but it still took me by surprise! Later, I ate about 6% of a pear and threw that up too - consequence of being anaesthesized, not of this surgery specifically. I started off unable to keep much water down, but with an IV full of 0.9% NaCl solution (the bread and butter of IVs) and a brightly glowing blue button which allowed me to give myself synthetic quasi-morphine basically at will. It also beeped in a really satisfying way, but that might be the Pavlovian conditioning speaking. Overall, the pain was manageable with all the stuff (per day: 6 paracetamol, 3 diclophenac - ibuprofen's big sister, essentially) they gave me, even after they took the IV out on day 2.

The first two days after the surgery, the whole area was covered in tight bandages essentially glued on to contain the swelling and keep everything in place. I also had a catheter in basically until I left the hospital (which sucked), but on day three when the bandages went off they at least removed the bag and replaced it with a flip-flow system. This is a small tube with a switch you can 'flip' to let pee 'flow' out. Unexpectely, it kinda hurts to let your bladder empty out completely this way, maybe because it suddenly lets in air? Anyway, you feel like less of a vegetative body and more of a person when you can pee autonomously, or at least I did. It was kinda funny to pee standing up through a tube for three days almost immediately after getting my penis inverted; a trace of the true self yet exists in the false self etc. etc.

Anyway, when the bandages came off it looked pretty bad: swollen in an asymmetric way (my right labia majora still protrudes a little more than the left; hope that fixes itself as the stitches dissolve and stuff). More worrying than the state of the vagina itself, the adhesive bandages had caused several large blisters to form on my pubic mound; I don't think I've ever experienced anything as itchy... This was a consequence of sweat mixing with glue in a slightly imperfectly applied part of the bandage - again not really specific to bottom surgery. The blisters went away on their own about a week later, but the skin there is still a little red. The vagina itself has all the most important bits of a naturally-grown one and looks pretty good. At least that's what Sammie, who has seen at least one other vagina up close before, tells me.

As a quick side note before I continue describing the quasi body horror I experienced, the food in the hospital was unexpectedly great. 7:30 - breakfast. Choose anything you like as long as it's cereal or a sandwich; the least interesting meal, but still not bad. 10:30 - thick protein shake, available in a dozen delicious fruit flavors. 13:00 - lunch. Thoups, thandwiches. The best pasta thalad I've ever had in my life. 15:30 - snack. Anything ranging from meatballs with an amazing mustardy sauce to cake that somehow feels texturally improved for being protein-enriched. 18:00 - dinner. Served in an adorable little crockpot. My favorite was the saté chicken over rice, which came with prawn crackers on the side. 21:00 - the nurse asks if you'd like some fruit or a popsicle or something before you go to sleep. One time, it was one of the best, sweetest, most juicy yet firm yet yielding pears I've eaten in my life. Aside from the schedule which the nurses and catering are on, there wasn't really any enforced schedule - if I'd wanted to get out of bed at 2 am and get myself something from the waiting room coffee machine, that was fine. You get to sleep all day if you want, so who cares?

Continuing on with the bad: on day 1 of my stay, my heart rate was like 60 bpm and my blood pressure was like 90 over 60 (consequence of the anasthesia). I was pale as shit, the nurses told me the day after. On day 2 of my stay in the hospital, Sammie came to visit and I really felt like I'd made it through (power of love <3), not in the least because she said I looked fine and not like a barely-heartbeat-having corpse. We were also in a discord call pretty much constantly throughout my stay, which was a little nostalgic... I managed to stand and walk a little on day 2 (holding the catheter bag. which sucked). On day 3, they gave me a comfy chair to incentivize me to get out of bed occassionally. I sat there reading and looking out the window, which is what I imagine I'll be doing if I make it to retirement age as well. On day 4, my parents came to visit. I fell asleep just before they arrived. You sleep a lot immediately after a surgery! Anyway, they each sat on one side of the bed and held my hands, which will always be one of my fondest memories going forward I think. On day 5, they took out the catheter (finally) and the huge tampon which had been holding my vagina open until then; they then showed me the specifics of dialating (medical euphemism for ''sticking a plastic cylinder in there'').

Speaking of dialating: I have to do that twice a day, but it's less of a big deal than I thought it would be, since I can just be on that phone or watch a video or something. Overall, it feels like a normal, medical thing to do, except if you piston the aforementioned cylinder a bit too quickly. Doing that - in combination with the frequent pins-and-needles feeling of my confused genital nerves reconnecting 15 centimeters away from where they originally were - did make me confident that I'd made the right decision in getting this surgery, sore as I still am right now. In the same vein though, the awkward part of having open wounds and stitches in your genitals is that it hurts a little bit when you see a breasts image. Except when dialating, when the clenching and swelling and whatever else goes on in there is mostly absorbed by the plastic cylinder (regular euphemism for ''medically prescribed dildo'').

Now - almost a month later - the hospital stay feels like a weird dream in which a few moderately bad things happened to me but I also got to eat a lot of delicious food. Kind of like being abducted by aliens! Anyway, peeing still feels a little weird (different use of existing muscles, shorter urethra with some swelling in adjacent tissue, etc.) and a little awkward on account of how it flows down like a gross waterfall which takes at least 4 squares of toilet paper to clean up after. Is that normal, or am I just not sitting in the right stance? Bepussied (<- real word) followers, let me know. That aside, I can walk and sit down and use the vaccuum and feed Novie just fine again, but picking stuff up from the ground is still a little bit of an ordeal every time. They took a few gratuitous stitches out two weeks later, and it's been getting easier and less painful almost continuously.

So, in conclusion, I'm glad I went/am still going through all this, though I'm probably not that much less content with my body in the timeline where I didn't. We'll see how I feel when I can look at breasts images to my heart's content without repercussions, but I'm already pretty happy just with how flat it is down there!

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andilovetowrite · 3 years

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Webs and Awkwardness P.P

Peter Parker x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Walking into your best friend’s room to find out he is Spiderman is terrible as it is, but what comes after is even worse, when Peter rips your t-shirt in the process…

Based on this prompt

Warnings: A couple of bad words (Mostly from May) and a little suggestiveness. Supportive Aunt May, and flustered Peter ;)

Word Count: 1.9k words

Posted May 2, 2021

Here is my Masterlist, in case you wanted to check it out :)

“Hey Aunt May!” you greeted, walking into the apartment. She smiled, hugging you.

“Good evening Y/N!” She gestured over to the pile of books in your arms. “Studying for a test?”

Nodding tiredly, you answered. “Physics...and Peter is probably the only one in the class who is passing. So I desperately need his help.”

Aunt May laughed, pointing to his room. “Thank god he is still doing his work, with being cooped up in his room all the time. Not to mention being so distant after getting that internship from that Stark guy.” She shook her head, primarily to herself. “I don’t like him too much.”

You smiled, thanking her before making your way to Peter’s room, knocking softly. There was no response. You did it again but figured Peter might be too engrossed in making something. So you went in.

And you will never forget the shock that went through your body. In the middle of the room, standing half-naked with only his boxers, was your best friend, Peter Parker. But that wasn’t what shocked you. What made you gasp was the clothing that pooled at his feet. Red and blue. Black lines crisscrossed over it. But even then, you wouldn’t overthink about red and blue clothes. The mask in his palm,, though said everything.

“It’s not-uh not what it looks like!” Peter shouted, haphazardly throwing the mask to the side. It didn’t help his case because the second he threw it, a light red light illuminated the ceiling, showing the iconic logo we all knew. “I’m uh, not- I promise it is not- this it just a- Oh god”,, Peter rambles on, kicking the suit back so harshly that it hits the wall hard, making a small dent before it crumples to the floor.

You could feel your eyes widen, looking at Peter in amazement and then the mask. Almost comically, you come closer, observing his face and then shamelessly looking up and down his body, eyes zeroing on his abs.

“You’re Spiderman. Peter Parker is Spiderman. My best friend is Spiderman.” You say slowly, trying to get it into your head. Peter nodded, trying to judge what you were going to say or do.

“I-”

“It all makes sense now!” you exclaimed, sitting down on the bed, knowing if you kept standing, you were going to pass out or something.

“What?” Peter asked eyebrows scrunched up. Out of all the possible things you could’ve said, that was the least expected one. The most expected one was a hit to the face,, and maybe then you would run out of the apartment.

“It’s- uh- now I understand. How you magically got rid of your glasses,”

“I got contacts”, Peter interjected, biting his lip.

“-no,, you didn’t. I asked May where you got your contacts from,, and she told me you didn’t have any.” Peter looked down, knowing that story went for a toss.

“Then how you also got abs overnight, as well as your overall muscles”, you said, gesturing to his body. Peter became bright red but made no move to put anything on.

“After that, you would never answer my calls in the night. For a bit, I thought you were ignoring me or at some girl’s house-”

“I wasn’t!” Peter shouted, then looked back at the door to see if his aunt heard him.

You nodded, thinking of other things. “Plus, you never speak about the internship, even though it was what you did most of the time.”

Peter hung his head down, now feeling bad about not telling you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just couldn’t let people know who I am and then if they saw Spiderman coming into your house-the-they might start targeting you-an-and you might get hurt. I-I couldn’t live with myself if that happened to you be-because of me.”

You nodded, the seriousness of the situation hitting you suddenly. But in real life, it hit Peter. Well, you hit Peter.

“HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? BAD GUYS TARGETTING ME IS BAD AS IT IS, BUT THEM TRYING TO KILL YOU?! YOU COULD HAVE ASKED ME FOR HELP! I SWEAR TO GOD PETER PARKER, YOU WOULD WISH THAT THE BAD GUYS HURT YOU AFTER WHAT I DO TO YOU!” you walked closer threateningly. Peter’s eyes widened. No matter who he went against, even if it was Captain America, no one would be more frightening than you when you were mad.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, Peter mumbled, moving back further. He didn’t even realize that he was halfway up the wall at this point, his face touching the ceiling.

“Get down here Parker!”

“Okay”, Peter squeaked, jumping down with impressive skills. “I’m s-” He went to apologize again but was cut off by you.

“Come here”, you said softly, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug, feeling his warm skin touch yours.

“Oh, this is nice”, he mumbled, hugging you back.

“You know how I would feel if someone came and told me my best friend died because of saving a city? Do you know how much I would stress out each night about you being Spiderman and fighting people twice or thrice your age?”

“Yeah”, Peter whispered against your skin, lips tickling your neck. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

You sighed softly. “But do you know how much it would hurt to know that you got hurt when I couldn’t help you? Just because I didn’t know that you were Spiderman?”

Peter stayed quiet, but his grip on you tensed up, clutching you tightened.

You pulled back, looking him in his chocolate eyes. “Please don’t keep things to yourself. Not with pressure like this. I know the Hulk or Iron Man might be there to help you, but tell me you’re alright. Just every now and then?” By this time, you could feel your throat closing, as you can feel tears prickling the sides of your eyes. Peter nodded, pulling you back in his embrace.

“I will. Plus, who will you come to to get Physics answers if I die?”

“Shut up!”, you laughed, leaving the hug but keeping your arm around his shoulder.

“So Mr Spiderman, how do you stick to buildings? And shoot webs? Do you make webs? Oh my god, are you part spider? Do you grow legs when you are outside fighting crime?”

Peter looked confused, listening to you babble on and on, but then chuckled. “With my suit that Mr Stark made. I make my webs. No I’m not part spider and of course not!”

“Wait, can I see the webs?”, you asked, curiosity blooming in your chest.

Peter shrugged. “Sure” Going over to his desk drawer, he opened it, pulling out a couple fancy technology gadgets. “Here, just press on this button.”

Gingerly taking it from him, you touched the button, not expecting such a light, featherlike touch to make it go on. Suddenly, a white stringy web hit Peter’s hand, jerking him towards you.

“Woah!”, he exclaimed as he banged into you.

“I’m sorry!”

“No probl-” he began, as he pushed himself off you, but one part stuck. His right hand was situated right on your chest, stuck with his web.

“Peter! Get your hand off!”

His mouth opened and closed, looking like a fish. “Uh-I’m sorry, you just- I grabbed onto the first thing, I mean, I didn’t try and grab your boob, oh god- I just-here let me-damn it, two hours.”

“What are you talking about? What’s two hours?” You asked, trying to concentrate on anything but Peter’s calloused hand on your thin shirt.

“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this but uh-”, Peter looked incredulously at, his hand, quickly glancing at the ceiling. “The web takes two hours to dissolve. And I just ran out of web dissolver…The only one left is on the roof”

“Seriusly? Pete! You can’t...- your hand is on my boob!”

“I’m sorry, I promise, I can’t feel anything. Well, no, I can feel something, but that’s not what I meant! Um-”

You sighed, looking up to see Peter’s face close to your’s. “You’re Spiderman! Just pull your hand off or something?”

“Uh-ye-yeah sure”, he said hesitantly. Giving a couple small tugs, nothing came off, but then he got annoyed, and yanked his hand back.

Not the best decision.

Instead of his hand coming off the shirt, the shirt came with him, tearing off your body. Gasping, you threw your hand to your chest, covering yourself up. “Peter!”

“Oh god, oh my god!” Peter blushed hard, the pink going all the way across his body as he looked at the cut up cloth in his palm. As you tried to find something to cover yourself up with, Peter’s ears twitched.

“Shit!”, he whispered, running over to me. “May is coming here!”

“How the heck can you hear that?”

“Super-hearing…”

“Of course”

“Y/N! May can’t know I’m spiderman! She won’t allow me to do these things otherwise…”

You stuttered, looking around the room. “Quick! Hide the suit.”

Running over to his mask, you grabbed it, throwing it under the bed, while he jumped up and hid his suit in the small slot on the roof. Hearing her footsteps now, you ran over to Peter’s hoodie, but it was too late.

May opened the door. “Hey guys, you want some Indian for dinne- What are you doing!?”

You couldn’t blame her. It looked bad. Peter without any clothes but his boxers on, and your shirt torn open, revealing your red, lacy bra underneath.

“We-we aren’t doing- any-anything May!”, you half yelled, embarrassment flooding your body.

“Yeah, no, we are not- she doesn’t-uh”, Peter said, looking at my torn shirt as he quickly pushed me behind him, not wanting to show his aunt what I wa wearing.

“Um, okay. Kids, I don’t know what’s happening, but just, uh, use protection and don’t be too loud-”

“MAY!” Peter said, hands covering his face. “We aren’t doing anything!”

“Uh huh. Sure….”, she said. “With how much you talk about how beautiful Y/N is, I can’t believe it took this long for you to tell her. But maybe don’t sleep on the first date? I mean, I know you are 19, and it’s your decision.. ”

“NO MAY!” Peter said, glancing back at me, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Also, perhaps lend Y/N your shirt or something. Considering you ruined hers? And wear some clothes when you get out.”

With that, she left the room, winking at me and mouthing to Peter, “It’s under the bathroom sink…”

Peter groaned, falling on his bead, head still in his arms. “I’m so sorry for May! I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to- your shirt-”

You laughed, pulling Peter’s midtown hoodie over your ripped shirt. “It’s honestly fine Pete. Let’s go eat some food. And maybe after that, you can ask me out on that date you’ve been meaning to do?”

Smirking slightly, you walked out of the room, kissing Peter on the cheek and taking pride in leaving him behind in his room, stuttering a nervous “Yes”.

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I hope this is good, and I did the story justice anon! Thanks so much for requesting this, and I would love to have a couple more to write since you all have such good ideas :) Until next time!

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker x reader imagine #peter parker angst #spiderman #aunt may #tom holland #peter parker x reader smut #angst #smut #lime #confessions #peter parker x reader headcannon #peter parker x y/n

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shorkbrian · 3 years

Note

THIS ISNT AN ASK I JUST GOT INSPIRED LOOKING AT YOUR TINGSSS; (Prohero) Yan Kiri responding to his (kidnapped) darlings' birthday request: Just do what they say for the day. Darling had to suck dick LONG AND HARD for this very special birthday wish, and spends the day dancing around the garden in a dress that they FINALLY got to choose themselves (the longest one they own) with gorgeous, full coverage underwear on. (1/2)

“This isn't an ask” then why it in my ask box hoe (Lolol I’m sorry I write what I see hope u don’t mind)

(What to expect - Cunnilingous, dubcon, noncon, NSFW, sexy birthday gift)

Yes you had to suck his dick, not to be allowed to wear the dress (Kirishima’s a sucker, and he likes seeing his baby in pretty little dresses that make them look all innocent), but to have him promise to not pin and fuck you the second she put it on (or at any point during your special day, just one day without sex, please? ur pussy needs a mf break)

Because it’s your birthday, Kirishima lets you order a dress online, sat in his lap of course, while he offers feedback.

“That one’s pretty.”

“Oo, you’d look so gorgeous in that color, you should get that one!”

“Eh, this one doesn’t seem like you, let’s look at a different one babe.”

“This is cute, but don’t you think it’s a little long? You might trip.”

His advice was unwarranted and mostly unwanted, hands distracting you by playing with your hair, kissing at your exposed shoulder while you scrolled through the options.

You finally decided on a dress, begging Kirishima to allow you to buy underwear as well to go with it. Kiri got excited for a second, and of course said yes, only to get confused and laugh when you added comfortable, un-sexy underwear to the cart.

But a promise is a promise, so everything gets purchased.

And the morning of your birthday, you get presented with the dress, the underwear, and breakfast in bed, which is slightly burnt, but the effort is somewhat appreciated.

Kirishima doesn’t bother you when you head to the shower (usually he follows you everywhere like an oversized puppy, and showers are never completed without his wandering hands and wet kisses), just smiles at you forlornly as he keeps his end of the “no touching” agreement for the day.

He doesn’t make you sit in his lap, or even next to him while you eat your breakfast in bed.

You don’t have his hands constantly touching you, wrapped around your waist, heavy on your shoulder, playing with your hair or skimming along your thigh.

Kirishima’s taken the day off, just so he can spend it with you, and he’s so glad. You’re laughing at his stupid jokes, you seem comfortable and relaxed, cheeks rosy, eyes bright, and the man has never been so in love.

It’s obvious that he’s struggling to hold himself back from grabbing you - his fingers itch, his smile is strained, he can’t stop staring at you in that dress. But he had promised, and you took advantage of that.

Flouncing around his bulky form, swishing your dress, giving an enthusiastic twirl that maybe showed off a bit more of your legs than was considered modest.

Teasing him about the slight bulge in his pants that appeared after a little bit of flirting, feeling safe because he wasn’t allowed to touch you.

You were shameless about the flirting too, a sort of confidence filling you and making you giggly and feel light, even though you weren’t exactly fond of the man you were flirting with on account of all the things he had done to you.

Kiri tried to convince you to stop, joking along with you at first but then quickly growing serious as you amped up your playful seductiveness, feeling powerful and in control because he couldn’t touch you no matter what.

His words were ignored, and you continued to live your best life, dancing around, licking food off of your finger with a mean smile, letting out little breathy moans whenever you stretched.

And the best part? Kirishima just had to sit there and take it. Just like he had forced you to accept his affection, you now forced him to accept the fact that you were wholly in reach, but absolutely off-limits.

That evening, you get ushered out to the garden, which Kirishima had “decorated” for you.

Technically, it was your garden, something for you to work on and occupy yourself with while Kirishima was off working. It wasn’t much, but you’d done your best with taking care of the plants.

Kiri had hung little twinkly lights in the trees, stringing them between the branches. He had set up a little table underneath the lights, a small cake, a bouquet of flowers, a few candles here and there.

It was romantic, and your heart swelled at the sight. In any other situation, this would be the absolute best birthday in the entire world. But today you wanted to be happy, so you didn’t think about all the reasons for why it wasn’t.

The two of you sat and ate cake, Kirishima recounting how many times he’d gotten cake slapped in his face by trying to surprise Bakugou on his birthday. You laughed, almost choking on cake, which made you laugh harder at the ungodly noise that left your throat.

You talked about your garden, animatedly gesturing to the various plants, explaining how you took care of them and what you still needed to work on. Kirishima listened intently, smiling at you.

He interrupted you in the middle of a story about your life growing up, holding a bite of cake towards you on his fork. Without thinking (he had been very insistent at first that he hand-feed you), you leaned across the table, opening your mouth and accepting the food.

You made eye contact, Kirishima’s eyes flicking down to your mouth, the way your lips stretched around the fork, the pink of your tongue as it accepted the bite. A moan was uttered, a smile teasing your lips as you licked at the frosting around your lips, bringing a thumb up to swipe it clean, sucking the digit into your mouth while moaning about how good it tastes.

And then Kirishima was breathing hard, red eyes locked on your own, calmly putting down his fork.

You immediately recognized what was going on, started rising from your seat the same time Kiri rose from his, holding your hands out and reminding the man of his promise.

But he was done, you’d teased him all day. Enough was enough.

He grabbed your arm before you could even think about moving away, jerking you to him to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tasting the subtle hint of sweetness on your tongue.

As soon as he pulled away, you were admonishing him, saying he promised, telling him to stop touching you, he’s such a jerk.

But he had a one-track mind, picking you up to settle your weight in one hand, forearm under your rear as he cleared a space on the table quickly.

Then you were getting sat down on top of it, Kiri sitting back down in his chair as he pulled your hips to edge, quickly rucking up your dress.

“Kirishima! You-you promised! Stop, you said you wouldn't!” You cried, trying to push his hands away, push his head back, stop him from revealing your underwear, but he was determined.

“Sorry baby, I just can’t help myself.” Was the offered explanation while he pulled down your underwear, managing to get it off one of your kicking legs before giving up and letting it dangle off of one ankle.

He hunched over immediately, large hands gripping and angling your hips up so he could reach your pussy, licking over it messily. There was no technique, no rhythm, the man just wanted to taste you, practically drooling over your cunt.

You cried out, hands pulling at his hair, making him grunt, but he couldn’t be moved from between your plush thighs.

“You said-ah! Don’t Kiri-” You whined, resigning yourself to the fact that he wasn’t going to let up. “It’s my birthday, I-I didn’t want you touching me....”

Kirishima pulled back a little, brows furrowed. He reached over to the cake, your eyes following his hand as he scooped up a glob of frosting.

No, he wouldn’t-

He would.

“No!” You yelped, but his grip on your hip was firm as he slapped the handful of frosting onto your cunt. You keened at the odd sensation, the cool frosting quickly being heated by your warm skin, beginning to melt.

“Birthday girl, you’re all messy, gotta clean you up-” The man breathed, diving back down the suck at your skin, tongue enthusiastically licking up the frosting, your juices with it.

All you could do was cry.

He ate you out until the frosting was cleaned from you cunt, until your skin was shiny and slick with spit and your own creamy juices. By the time he seemed satisfied, you were shaking, thighs bracketing his hand while they trembled and convulsed at each eager lave of his tongue over your swollen slit.

It began raining, the soft pitter-patter droplets easily hiding the streaking of tears down your face.

Kirishima didn’t seem too phased, merely standing, pulling you into his arms and striding towards the door.

You could see the little area Kirishima had set up for your birthday, lights beginning to drop out of trees from the wind, the cake getting ruined by the elements, the scene quickly dissolving into a mess.

And Kirishima had barely gotten started with you.

#Yandere kirishima #kirishima x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere kirishima eijiro #birthday #tw dubcon #tw.dubcon #tw noncon #tw.noncon #bad writing #author sucks lol

583 notes · View notes

reidology · 3 years

Text

Dying in a bathtub - Hotchreid

Summary: Hotch gets nightmares and hides in the tub, so Spencer makes it comfy for him <3

Word count: 4.4k

Content warning: discussion and description of nightmares, smut, brief description of physical abuse, light angst, quite fluffy, happy ending <3

AO3

__________________________________________

The first time it happened Spencer woke up shivering, the cold of a missing body beside him seeped through the sheets chilled his bones. He braved a lazy glance to his bedside, squinting to see the alarm clock blinking big and aggressive red numbers. 05:25. Aaron must have gone out for a morning run, something Spencer never understood. In fact, his reasoning of ‘why run, when sleep?’ whenever Aaron attempted to get him to join always earned him an affectionate eye roll and kiss on the cheek, so why would he ever give that up? No promise of endless coffee can get Spencer Reid to wake up before 7am, much less for exercise.

Reluctantly the sleepy man made his way to the bathroom, knowing he might as well shower and get ready for work now, there’s no way he could get back to sleep without his human furnace of a boyfriend covering him completely. Only, through his grogginess he failed to notice the boyfriend-shaped body softly snoring in the tub.

So he padded over to the semi-closed shower curtain and blearily reached in to turn the water on for it to heat up while he got ready.

Almost as soon as the water turned on, a high-pitched shriek assaulted the young agent’s eardrums. Spencer did what, in his opinion, any caught-off-guard fully trained FBI agent would do— he squealed in shock and fell back on his ass. A moment later the shower curtain pulled back, revealing a very irritated -and very wet- Aaron Hotchner.

“Babe what the fuck,” the older man whined, wringing out his shirt and turning the freezing water off, “I was sleeping!”

“Oh this is my fault?!”

“Yes! Couldn’t you see me?!”

“I just woke up!”

“Me too!” Aaron pointed to his wet shirt as if to say you have no excuse for this.

Spencer let out a frustrated sigh and pushed himself up from the floor. Somehow he upset his boyfriend, he guesses apologies are on the table. He carefully stepped into the bathtub to face his dripping boyfriend and wrapped his arms around the soaking man’s neck, “I’m sorry,” he pouted quite prettily, “But honey, why were you sleeping in the tub?”

“I didn’t sleep in the tub. I went to sleep in our bed, then you woke me up in the tub.” Aaron grumbled.

Spencer thought Aaron looked positively insane. His eyes focused on the older man’s pupils as his hands checked for a fever.

“Do you have a concussion?” He couldn’t help but fret about the man who is usually so well put together. He was obviously in distress though what kind of distress completely eluded the dry man. Aaron waved Spencer’s worried hands away from his face, “No. Spence, I’m telling you, I didn’t sleep in the bathtub.”

“Then how did you get here?”

Aaron shrugged and swatted Spencer’s nosy hands away that were trying to inspect the grumpy man for any injuries, “Who knows? Let’s get some breakfast.” He calmly stepped out of the tub and headed out, leaving Spencer confused (for once).

“... But it’s 5 am.”

_____

Two nights later, it happened again. But this time Spencer awoke to the sound of sobbing. His heart just about broke in two at the sight of Aaron curled in on himself in the porcelain tub, shaking and covered in sweat.

The Unit Chief used to have terrors most nights. After Foyet, all of life’s problems seemed to unravel in his dreams. The sounds and images were so vivid that upon waking up he believed he had done what he’d dreamed. That he’d hurt his family or that Foyet had come back to finish the job.

During hard cases, Aaron would forgo sleep completely, knowing his mind would only haunt him with terror beyond his conscious capabilities. It left him exhausted and agitated for the rest of the investigation. The team and LEOs got frustrated but none had the guts to confront him, except for one young agent who took special notice of his boss.

So Spencer stepped in, and after weeks of getting closer and learning more about each other than they had in the past five years of working together, Aaron digressed and accepted the help that was offered. The following three months ensued so smoothly, the therapy was helping and Aaron couldn’t believe he was sleeping full nights again. He knew it was all thanks to Spencer, who had taken up a very special place in his heart. Aaron knew that Spencer would always be there when he woke up, like an anchor. Something real to hold on to and keep him in place.

It had been a while since Aaron had such a bad episode, luckily Spencer knew just what to do and jumped right into action. Without missing a beat, the younger man climbed into the tub and sat by Aaron’s head, taking hold of one of his white-knuckled fists and gently coaxing it open by rubbing his thumbs from the palm to the back of the hand. Constant pressure, soothing, real. With one hand he threaded his fingers through the brunette’s damp hair, stroking softly at his scalp, willing his nightmare mind to latch onto the familiar touch.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” He murmured sweetly like a mantra.

Eventually Aaron’s panicked sobs dissolved into pained whimpers, his body lost some of its tension, allowing for Spencer to gently lift his boyfriend’s head into his lap and off the hard floor of the tub. The whimpers died down to light trembles and Spencer shushed him comfortingly, continuing to sooth him with gentle strokes to his head. Slowly Aaron’s eyes opened and Spencer felt the moment panic set in. The taller man’s breathing quickened and tension returned to his body, frozen in fear. God, Spencer should have turned the lights on.

“It’s just me, darling. You’re home, Aaron. This is home. You’re safe.”

Aaron trembled more, his eyes glazed over as if reliving the nightmare, “Shhh you’re safe.”

Spencer placed a feathery kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead that seemed to anchor him immediately. Tentatively, Aaron looked up at his rescuer, relieved to be in his lover's arms and away from the nightmare universe that had felt so real. He burrowed further into Spencer’s lap, wrapped his shaking arms around his boyfriend’s steady hips. He tried to focus on Spencer’s heartbeat in an attempt to regulate his own. Spencer was warm, Spencer was safe. Always safe.

“Foyet?” Spencer asked cautiously, breath fanning over the older’s forehead. Aaron stilled at the name then nodded. The younger man knows that Aaron needs to talk about it immediately, even if it’s terrifying. It allows him to discern dreams from reality, so that the events and sensations of the night terror don’t ingrain themselves into the man’s memories of reality .

“... and Scratch,” Aaron gulped, “They had Jack. I couldn’t... I didn’t know what was real. Couldn’t tell if it was really Jack. He made me hurt him. Oh god, Spence… I hurt him.” Sobs wracked the pained man’s body once again, unable to forget the horror of the dream. Spencer rocked them back and forth.

“Shh… Jack is fine, he’s at Jess’s. You would never hurt him, Aaron.”

Aaron was spent, he couldn’t muster up the energy to talk. He fell asleep once more in his partner’s comforting hold.

_____

The next morning they woke up with aching muscles from being in the bathtub for so long. Spencer couldn’t help but be worried about his boyfriend. There was definitely something going on, and though he respected Aaron’s privacy immensely, he was afraid of the older man getting into a dangerous situation. Was he sleepwalking to the bathroom? What if he tripped and hit his head on the edge of the tub? But most importantly, why were Aaron’s nightmares leading him to the bathtub?

Spencer nuzzled Aaron’s neck in an effort to wake him up a bit more. “Darling, we need to talk about this.” The worry in Spencer’s voice was audible and prompted Aaron to sit up and sigh deeply. He didn’t think this part of his life would ever come back up to the surface, he’d avoided thinking about it for decades and he didn’t know what triggered the habit to resurface. But now it’s affected Spencer, and he knew he couldn’t keep the love of his life in the dark, but some things were so hard to talk about.

Aaron found himself panicking again, flashes of Foyet and his father clouding his mind once more. Images of Sean taking cover in Aaron’s arms while their father pounds on the bathroom door-

“I know. I-” He was cut off with the sweetest kiss.

“You can take your time sweetheart. No rush.”

Even at this stage in their relationship, Aaron wasn’t used to being treated so well. The kindness that naturally radiated off his boyfriend was enough to make his insides melt, the understanding words never ceased to choke him up. But he knew Spencer would be there to put him back together once he gave him all his pieces. He buried his face in the younger’s neck, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, relaxing into his hold. Spencer wrapped his arms around Aaron’s lean form, offering a safe space. Aaron had never been this vulnerable with anyone before his relationship with Spencer.

After a moment of just holding each other, Aaron’s breathing mellowed out and his voice cracked as he explained everything.

“After Sean was born, my dad started drinking. He’d always been somewhat aggressive, scary even. He- he’d get angry and take it out on my mom… and if she wasn’t there... But when he started drinking it got a thousand times worse. I vowed to myself to protect Sean at all costs, I promised him I would never let our dad get to him. So I took the brunt of it when he was sober. But when he was drunk… he would chase us, try to get to Sean specifically. He was just a little kid 5 or 6, I was 15. He would scour the house to find Sean so I took him and locked us in the only room in the house with a lock… the bathroom. I’d carry Sean in my arms and make a run for it. I blocked off the door with a cabinet and we sat in the tub until he passed out.. My dad couldn’t get in but he would pound on the door so loudly, his voice was so angry-”

Aaron inhaled hard, the grip on the back of Spencer’s shirt tightened and his breathing shallowed. Spencer continued rubbing soothing circles on his back, allowing Aaron to take his time.

“The bathtub was the only safe space for Sean and I. We spent whole nights in there, waiting for my dad to pass out. Sometimes we’d tell stories, play games, but other times we cried and I covered his ears with my hands, not wanting him to hear the horrible things our dad was saying. This went on until I went to college, I tried to take Sean with me but my mother wouldn’t allow it. My dad died a year later, when Sean was 9.

“I- because of that, if any of us had nightmares we’d go into the bathroom and sleep in the tub, because no one could get to us in there.”

Aaron swallowed thickly and timidly looked up to the honey-haired man. Had he sounded pathetic?

But Spencer cupped his cheek once again and kissed him lovingly.

“Thank you for telling me. You’re the strongest person I know, Aaron. I'm sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Aaron’s heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through his chest. He swallowed down all his uncertainties and let Spencer in, he was proud of himself. Both of them yawned in succession, still exhausted from last night and uncomfortable from sleeping in the bathtub.

With a cheeky grin the younger man announced, “Let’s go to bed, I’ll get us the day off.” Aaron was so grateful.

While he called in sick, Spencer had an idea, and he knew just who to call.

_____

“Boy Wonder! How wonderful to hear from you on this frabjous day! We miss you and the Bossman dearly. We are definitely… working. Work is happening, and we’re doing it, and it’s getting done. You can trust me on that. Definitely no piñatas in the break room, where would we even find one on such short notice? Emily doesn’t even know where to get balloons! Anyway, what magical service may I bestow upon thee today, my little lord?”

Spencer bit back a chuckle, “Hi Penelope. Listen I need some advice on… interior decorating-”

Immediately, he got cut off by a squeal, “I’m on my way!”

“No! Garcia- after work-”

The line goes flat.

“Dammit. I should’ve just texted JJ.”

_____

Despite her best efforts, the rest of the team did not let Penelope leave the BAU for a ‘design emergency’. Fortunately for Spencer, that gave him some time to plan what he wanted to do while cooking lunch for his sleeping beauty.

After a full meal of soup and grilled cheese, Hotch retreated to the living room hoping to watch some History Channel with Spencer. They love watching the conspiracy shows together and debunking the awful propositions. Though Hotch learned quite surprisingly that Spencer is very open to the idea of aliens on Earth. However, he has a suspicion that that’s mostly wishful thinking on the part of Spencer's inner child. Nevertheless, it’s adorable and Hotch was excited for it, and waiting patiently for Spencer to finish cleaning himself up.

Before he could question what was taking so long, their doorbell rang a sweet lullabye sound (they had to change it from the awful buzzing that it was- it was too overwhelming for Spencer). Not expecting any company, Hotch was puzzled as to who could be at their door.

“Who is it?” He spoke through the intercom.

“Bossman! Sorry to hear about your incurable case of Work Sickness! If you could let me up, I brought you some warm soup!-”

Spencer bounded through the foyer from the bedroom, practically hopping over furniture and knocking down a flower arrangement, “I got it! I got it!” he heaved frantically.

“Babe, what’s Garcia doing in front of our building on a weekday?”

“Nothing Aar don’t worry about it, Penelope and I are just going out for lunch, see you later!”

Spencer grabbed his satchel and was out the door.

“But- Spencer you just had lunch!” The curly haired man was already running down the steps, “Bye!”

It was Hotch’s turn to be left alone and confused.

_____

In Penelope’s car, Spencer explained his idea to Penelope, without going saying too much about Hotch’s nightmares. In true Penelope fashion, the bubbly bits-and-bobs connoisseur knew the perfect place to get what Spencer needed. Penelope dragged Spencer around the independently-owned home goods boutique like a lost puppy for about two hours. She ended up with more bags for herself and Sergio than what Spencer needed.

A few texts and one missed call from Hotch wondering what the hell was taking Spencer so long prompted them to leave. Spencer thanked Penelope in front of their apartment and air kissed her goodbye, promising to show up at girl’s night next week..

Spencer walks into the foyer as quietly as possible and hides the bags behind the living room’s entertainment center.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah! I’m home!”

Aaron walked out of their bedroom with a soft smile. His round glasses were on, meaning he’s been reading… or looking at case files.

“Are you going through the case?” Spencer scolded.

The bespectacled man didn’t waver. “There’s something the victim’s parents said that doesn’t add up, they said that every Thursday Mandy went to soccer practice after school and swim practice in the next town over in the evenings. She takes the bus so if the unsub was stalking her he’d either have to take the same bus and risk getting caught or have a car- which goes against our age profile- so that would mean there’s someone driving him. Spencer, there are TWO unsu-” He was cut off by being pulled into a kiss. He hummed into it and wrapped his arms around Spencer’s slender waist, pulling them closer together. When they pulled apart Spencer whispered “Two unsubs. The team knows, they’re working on it. You-” he tapped his finger on the older’s chin for emphasis, “need to relax today.”

The resulting pretty pout was swiftly kissed away. None of that now.

“But I don’t know how to relax. I’m Aaron Hotchner, stoic as a statue, stern glare extraordinaire, Mr. Emotionless…”

Spencer rolled his eyes and trailed his hands down Aaron’s hard chest, “I know how to make you relax…” The other man grinned “Oh is that right?” Spencer smirked and led his boyfriend to the couch.

_____

That night when Aaron was gone to bed, Spencer quietly retrieved the bags from behind the TV and set his plan in motion.

_____

He’s trembling. And he can’t recognize his own thoughts, he can’t think straight, all he can see is his son- and Haley with terror written all over their faces.

He barely registers the sound of Jack’s wailing because, as if from right behind his ear, he hears a voice that he interprets as his own thought ‘shoot him’.

‘What?’

‘Pull the trigger’

He looks back up to his sobbing, terrified son, and without hesitation- click- BOOM-

Aaron bolted up from the bed, gasping for breath. His eyes darted around the dark. Jack? Where is he- Jack ohmygod-

His vision landed on Spencer’s sleeping form, breathing shallowly and folded into himself like a pretzel, sleeping soundly like an angel. Spencer. Real. Safe. He took a deep breath to regulate his heart. In for 4, hold, out for 6, repeat. This was exhausting.

Groggily, Aaron slipped out from under the covers and headed to the bathroom to get a drink of water and maybe splash his face a little. He thought of getting into the bathtub for the comfort he desperately needed right now, but he’d be embarrassed if Spencer found him in there again. Who does that? But nothing could have prepared Aaron for the sight before him when he opened the door.

Lights. Yellow, green, purple electric lights on strings, illuminating the room in a beautiful calming glow. They were suspended from the curtain rod of the bathtub, taped to the walls. Gorgeously scented candles perched on the sink, some on the ground, a few tea lights lining the edge of the tub. It smelled glorious and comforting and Aaron couldn’t tell what it was. Pine? Sandalwood? Campfire?

The most breath-taking part was the inside of the bathtub. Patterned sheets hung from the walls and draped over to form a delicate roof. Fluffy pillows perfectly laid out to coat every inch of the porcelain interior, and soft blankets piled on top for added comfort. Lights lined the inside of the sheet tent as well, it looked fantastical. Like something out of a book.

Aaron was floored, to say the least. Was this what Spencer had been doing today? He was flooded by a new emotion, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Spencer had done all of this for him? To make him feel safe?

He was still standing just barely in the room, taking everything in and getting emotional when he heard soft footsteps behind him and felt Spencer’s long arms slink around his waist. A chin hooked over his shoulder and a kiss was pressed to his neck.

“Are you alright? Did you have a nightmare?”

Aaron nodded, “You did all this… for me?” A tinge of awe decorated his voice.

“Yeah,” his boyfriend whispered back, “So you don’t hurt yourself when you sleep in here.”

Aaron felt stupid for ever thinking his wonderful, thoughtful boyfriend would ever feel embarrassed by him. Of course Spencer took everything he admitted seriously, of course Spencer cared about what he’s been through, Spencer cares… that's what he’s been feeling. Taken care of. Important. For once in his life, he feels like he’s allowed to let himself be loved.

The stunned man seemed to be frozen in place, not knowing how to respond. His mind was overwhelmed with love for his boyfriend. Spencer pulled away and grabbed the older’s hands, Aaron let himself be led to the makeshift fort.

They climbed in together, careful not to knock over any of the burning candles. Spencer settled on one end of the tub and pulled Aaron into him before he could even think of not cuddling with him. He made space with his legs for his boyfriend to settle between, chest pressed to back, arms wrapped around his love. Safe, warm, and comfortable in a sea of cushions like twin yolks in a shell.

Laying here, in his lover's arms, surrounded by low tranquil lights, and the gentle rise and fall of Spencer’s chest, Aaron felt as serene as he’d ever been. Spencer slid warm hands under Aaron’s shirt, bringing one up to rest cozily on his heart. Aaron turned his head and nuzzled further into Spencer’s neck, feeling the familiar tingle of the man’s touch and murmured a low hum of approval.

Spencer’s other hand, that wasn’t on Aaron’s heart, was used to tip the taller man’s chin up to look at him.

“I know what it’s like to be afraid of your own mind,” he cooed, “sometimes it’s impossible to take yourself out of that world. But in our home, Aaron, I want you to feel safe and protected at all times. I want you to be vulnerable and unashamed. You’re free to be everything you are in here, and I hope that you feel you can be everything you are with me, too.”

Aaron lost himself in his partner’s deep gaze, glorious hazel eyes boring into him. Completely enamored by the words spoken to him, all he could do was nod and lick his lips, trying to regulate his heart rate for a completely different reason now. Spencer had never been so… authoritative before and his sincere but stern tone sent thrilling sparks down his spine. A blush rose up his neck.

Spencer tracked the slow movement of Aaron’s tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and didn’t fight the impulse to drag his thumb over it. “You’re always safe with me.” He barely whispered before angling his head down to catch those lips in a languid kiss. Aaron sighed into it, waiting a little while before pushing himself up to fix their awkward angle. He positioned them so that Spencer was laid down flat on his back, allowing Aaron to lay between his legs once more, chest to chest. They tangled themselves in each other, lips colliding again like a match to a box, igniting a fire in the both of them.

Both were still tired from waking up in the middle of the night, but the desire coursing through their bodies was a more pressing matter. Spencer lifted his hands to frame his lover’s neck and wrapped his legs loosely around his waist, inviting Aaron to grind down onto him, both already half hard from the anticipation. Spencer groaned into Aaron’s mouth. A sound that went right to Aaron’s dick.

They explored each other’s bodies with a youthful novelty, eager to feel more skin. Never once pulling their lips apart. Aaron slipped his hands under Spencer’s shirt and shoved it up under his arms, digging his fingers into those delicious hips. Finally he broke away from the kiss to pepper the younger’s face with sweet ones. Aaron’s heart grew three sizes at Spencer’s soft giggles and let out a low laugh of his own. How ridiculous were they, making out like teenagers in a bathtub fort? Neither much cared to answer that question though, because the impatient genius bucked his hips up to meet his boyfriend’s, who was still in his boxers, let’s get those off.

Spencer eagerly reached for Aaron’s underwear and palmed at his bulge just until he heard that impatient sound from him. He pulled the man’s cock out now fully hard and dripping with precum. A groan escaped the both of them at the sight and sensation. They wasted no time in getting Spencer out of his nerdy physics flannel pajama pants, and grinded their dicks together. Lighting sparked right through the both of them, Aaron balanced himself on one arm near Spencer’s head and took both of their lengths into his right hand.

The rub of their slick cocks together was spectacular as Aaron kept a slow and steady pace, making sure to draw out all the best sounds he knew Spencer could make by nipping at his neck, where he knew the younger man was ticklish. Spencer whined at the excruciating pace, turning into a desperate whimpering mess. Making Spencer wait was so fun.

Spencer’s hands find grip in Aaron’s short hair, keeping him close, feeling the pull of Aaron's big hand on his dick and grinding up to meet him. It’s intoxicating bliss, being taken over the edge by the man he loves.

Their worlds minimized to just the slide of their cocks and the lips on their skin. The whimpering man felt the familiar build up in his abdomen, moaning freely now as he chased his orgasm, guiding Aaron’s hand with his own to feel his touch everywhere.

“Yeah baby,” Aaron encouraged, his own orgasm coming on quickly, “Cum for me baby.”

Spencer sputtered his release over both of their hands and stomachs, momentarily suspended in the intense bliss of his orgasm. He laid there spent, feeling like putty in Aaron’s hands, and pulled him down for a passionate kiss. He took his lover’s cock in hand and pumped him quickly, thumbing the head of his dick on each upstroke. Aaron came with a groan and a shudder, his arms gave out. They laid there catching their breaths for a while, ignoring the drying stickiness between them and tracing slow patterns on each other’s skin. They were so lucky to have each other.

“How are we going to shower now?” Aaron looked up and pouted.

“There’s a perfectly good sink just 5 feet away.” They laughed, Aaron pulled a blanket over them.

------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @foxtrot91 @physics-magic @ssa-sarahsunshine @hearteyedhotch

#hotchreid #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #spencer reid x aaron hotchner #spencer reid fic #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fic #my fic #bathtub au

112 notes · View notes

hockeyboysimagines · 3 years

Note

Can I get take your time with Matthew Tkachuk please!!! You can write about whatever lol

Here you go! I love this song and it’s so Matty. I hope you enjoy it!💕

I don't know if you were looking at me or not

You probably smile like that all the time

And I don't mean to bother you but

I couldn't just walk by

And not say hi

And I know your name

'Cause everybody in here knows your name

And you're not looking for anything right now

So I don't wanna come on strong

But don't get me wrong

Your eyes are so intimidating

My heart is pounding but

It's just a conversation

No, girl, I'm not wasted

You don't know me

I don't know you but I want to

“She’s looking at me.”

Johnny rolled his eyes but chuckled “She’s not looking at you.”

“Yes she is!” But before Johnny could say anything, Noah butted in.

“Hey!” He called, causing her to turn to them “He thinks your looking at him, are you?” She smiled slowly, eyes sweeping up to his own and holding his gaze for a few moments. He almost shrank down under her gaze. He had never been so intimidated by a girl before, but this one. This one was different. She turned back around, facing away from him.

“You asshole!” He said punching Noah on the arm as he and Johnny dissolved into a fit of laughter. He stalked away from them taking a deep breath before making his way in to the stool next to her. She didn’t turn to look at him but she knew he was there.

“Y/N right? Sorry about my friends. They uh-“

She turned to him cutting him off “Is this a line? Because I’m not looking for a boyfriend, or someone to buy me a drink or anything like that.”

He blinked before he spoke “Okay fine. You can buy your own drinks. I won’t even talk to you. We can just sit in comfortable silence and drink our own drinks that we paid for.” He faced away from her, but have her a sideways glance. As much as she tried to fight it a smile spread across her face. She didn’t know who this mystery boy with big blue eyes was, but she wanted to.

And I don't wanna steal your freedom

I don't wanna change your mind

I don't have to make you love me

I just want to take your time

I don't wanna wreck your Friday

I ain't gonna waste my lines

I don't have to take your heart

I just wanna take your time

They sat and they talked, and his smile and his eyes had eventually cracked her exterior and he had her laughing and giggling like he had known her forever. He had rolled out a few bad jokes, and had shrugged it off when she poked fun at him. She usually spent her Friday dodging creeps at the bar, but this Friday was different. She was enjoying filling her time with him. She liked the freedom to do what she wanted but something about him had her glued to her chair, hanging on his every word.

And I know it starts with hello

And the next thing you know you try to be nice

And some guys getting too close

Trying to pick you up

Trying to get you drunk

And I'm sure one of your friends is about to come over here

'Cause she's supposed to save you from random guys

That talk to much and wanna stay too long

It's the same old song and dance but I think you know it well

You coulda rolled your eyes

Told me to go to hell

Coulda walked away

But you're still here

And I'm still here

Come on let's see where it goes

“So where’s your friend?”

“What friend?”

He rolled his eyes “Come on. Where’s your friend who’s waiting in the wings to come save you in case I turned out to be a creep.”

She looked amused for a minute before pointing over his shoulder to a group of girls at a table “She’s over there, and you being a creep hasn’t been ruled out yet.”

His jaw dropped and she burst into laughter. She was good, quick with words and kept him on his toes.

“I can’t be that much of a creep if you haven’t told me to go to hell yet. But I’m sure it gets old.”

She turned her head and looked questioningly at him before he continued “I’ve seen the way guys break their necks and try to buy you drinks and always get turned down.”

She shrugged and crossed her arms “Yeah that’s usually how it goes. I chase them all off or I run away myself.”

“But I’m still here.” He said boldly.

“Yeah….me too.”

I don't wanna steal your freedom

I don't wanna change your mind

I don't have to make you love me

I just wanna take your time

I don't have to meet your mother

We don't have to cross that line

I don't wanna steal your covers

I just wanna take your time

I don't wanna go home with you, woah-ooh-oh, oh

I just wanna be alone with you

Most of the bar patrons had started to filter out, their friends included, leaving them and a few hang arounds.

“So have you decided if I’m a creep or not yet?” He asked taking a sip of his beer. She shook her head.

“I’m thinking no. But the night i still young.”

He checked his phone and frowned “It’s 1:30 in the morning.”

“It is. Is this the part where you ask to take me home.” She was hoping to god he said no, and that he hadn’t spent the last three hours being genuinely nice just to get in her pants, but a small part of her also wanted him to say yes.

“No this is the part where I say I want to meet your mother and take you on a date.”

She was shocked, no one had a ever asked her on a date before. They had always skipped that part and tried to get her in bed.

“I’m not gonna ask you to go home with me, but since the night is young and I’m not ready to go home yet, do you wanna go somewhere or go for a drive or something?” He asked looking over his shoulder at the now nearly empty bar. She stared a hole in him for a minute before she nodded.

“Sure.”

I don't wanna steal your freedom

I don't wanna change your mind

I don't have to make you love me

I just wanna take your time

I don't wanna blow your phone up

I just wanna blow your mind

I don't have to take your heart

I just wanna take your time

No, I ain't gotta call you baby

And I ain't gotta call you mine

I don't have to take your heart

I just wanna take your time

They sat on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars twinkling overhead. They had been talking about everything and anything, and he was nervous now that he was alone with her.

“So?” She asked in to the darkness, turning slightly to look at him.

“What?”

“You haven’t asked for my number, or called me baby or tried to kiss me or anything. What gives?”

“I thought you didn’t usually like that?”

“I don’t usually. But for you I might make an exception. You’ve taken up most of my time, and I think maybe I’ll let you take up some more.”

He smiled slyly “Well in that case…baby. Can I have you number so I can take you out and kiss you and take up a little more time?”

She shrugged “Or you could just kiss me now.”

He leaned forward, nose brushing hers as he pressed his lips against hers sending a warmth from her head to the tips of her toes.

She had given a lot of boys her time, and more tonight then ever before.

But this boy might just take her heart too.

#matthew tkachuk #nhl x reader #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey writing #hockey blurbs #hockeyblr #hockey fanfiction #nhl imagine

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jeongvision · 3 years

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bandaids

synopsis. in the midst of finals season, where routine takes over your lifestyle, you find solace in the voice of your most important person that always seem to know when you’re at your breaking point.

pairing. boyfriend! kim doyoung ✗ student! fem! reader

genre. fluff, angst, slice of life, hurt/comfort, college au, non idol au, established relationship au

word count. 1.8k words

warnings. cursing, mentions of anxiety, depictions of a mental breakdown

song. bandaids by keshi

author’s note. after looking at my calendar, it has come to my attention that it’s that time of the year: finals season. i just want to let all of you know that you are doing a great job. you made it this far and i’m proud of you. i promise you, you will get through this. hopefully this could give comfort in the midst of your studies. love you all.

friends of flowers fragile silence stand beside you stop your crying

If there is one thing that all college students could agree on, it’s that finals seasons are the absolute worst thing to ever go through in college. You’re constantly spending every night at the library with your eyes glued onto your textbooks, your brain rushing to keep up in retaining all the pertinent information needed for your exams. You’re devoting hours onto your laptop with your fingers typing away on your keyboard, internet tabs and pages cluttering your screen as you rush to reach the minimum page count required for your courses.

So many times you have declined all your friends’ requests for study dates or a simple get-together because you just don’t have the luxury to. As much as you’d love to take a break from your studies, you feel like you’re running out of time. It has gotten to the point where your boyfriend has to remind you every now and then to take breaks as he gets concerned for your well-being. And just when you thought you were done with one exam or assignment, you look back on your planner only to find out that there’s more to complete. It’s like your pile just doesn’t seem to lessen with each passing day, your mentality on the brink of collapse.

Just where is the end to all of this?

You are currently perched over your desk, packets of case studies splayed out on top of your corrections textbook. Your laptop screen shines bright at the corner, documents filled with infinitesimal texts and numbers. To your right lies your essential oil diffuser, planted right on your nightstand with fumes of aroma wafting through the air. You took your best friend’s suggestion in purchasing an aromatherapy diffuser to help relieve some stress you’ve accumulated from your studies. Lavender should help out, she said. But to your dismay, you don’t feel a single ounce of it lifting from your shoulders. Forcing your brain to believe its effective properties only puts your head more into a strain.

That’s when you felt a sharp pain rip through your skull. ‘Great,’ you groaned to yourself, ‘another fucking headache.’ You dropped your pen on your notebook and rubbed your fatigued eyes, the pressure from your fingertips massaging away. “God, I can’t wait for this semester to be over with already.”

Crossing your arms, you found your phone lying in the middle of your bed. You forgot that you left it on ‘do not disturb’, finally realizing why you didn’t hear your phone ring in the past few hours. You grabbed your phone off your bed. 2:58 am, it reads. Unlocking your phone, you skimmed through your notifications, your fingers swiftly responding to certain messages cluttered up in your phone until you reached to this one particular conversation:

hey babe (sent by doie <3, 11:01pm)

hope you’re eating your meals and drinking water (sent by doie <3, 11:01pm)

just want to let you know that i’m proud of you (sent by doie <3, 11:02pm)

always am and always will (sent by doie <3, 11:02pm)

love you (sent by doie <3, 11:02pm)

You could feel a smile blooming on your lips. It has been a while since you’ve seen Doyoung, let alone hear his voice. Is it too late to call him? ‘He might be sleeping,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Should I?’ Biting your lip, you mustered up the courage and decided to call him. Placing your phone against your ear, you awaited his call. The sound reverberates through your eardrums, the anticipation of having your call picked up diminishing with each passing ring. And just when you were about to give up, the tune stops short on its last ring.

“Hello?” a deep voice croaks.

You softly smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” you whispered. “Did I… wake you up?”

“No, no.” You hear him shuffling on his end, to what you could assume to be from his movements in his bed sheets. “Not at all, baby.” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, touched over the fact he’s easing your guilt of awakening him from his much-needed slumber. “What’s wrong? You need something?”

You shrugged your shoulders, a habit you’ve developed when talking on the phone with someone. “No, not really.” You run your fingers through your hair before rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just missed you, that’s all.”

He lets out a tired chuckle. “I missed you, too.”

You hum a little, “How are your finals?”

He scoffs. “Shit.”

“Not surprised,” you giggled. “You only have one more left, right?”

“Yeah. Chem 4. After that, I’m ready to sleep for a whole week straight.”

“Can I join you in your sleeping session?”

“You most certainly can.”

You both shared a laugh, your mind finally distracted from the strenuous documents that resided on top of your desk. “I call dibs on being the small spoon.”

He chortles. “You’re funny.”

“Hey! It’s only fair.”

“That’s what you said when you ate my share of fries the other week.”

His voice was much livelier than before, fully awakened from his rest now. You missed the jolly feeling you’d get when you talked to him. All those days and nights spent by his side where nothing else mattered in the world except for your boyfriend, whispering loving affirmations to you just like always. You really did miss him, and you can’t wait for this semester to be over to spend quality time with him again.

“Hey, y/n?” he called out.

“Hm?”

“You know that all I ever ask of you is to be honest with me?”

Your smile drops. You know where this is going, and frankly, you’re not sure if you’re ready to have this conversation again. Time after time, he would start a conversation with that question followed by his ongoing concerns wrapped in his mind. Sometimes he would ask for your second opinion, but most of the time they were diverted to you, his forever lover. And you knew this time, this is going to be about you.

Your free hand fiddled with the ends of your finger as you chew on your lip again, your eyes peering down to your lap.

“... yes,” you murmured.

You could hear your heart beating through your ears, the silence deafening the space that encompassed you around. Neither one of you uttered a sound to the other, too afraid to whisper through the thick tension planted in the air. Outside your dorm, there are muffled footsteps fading in and out by your door, most likely from your dorm neighbors coming back from another one of their library sessions. He lets out a soft sigh on his end, not one filled with annoyance, but filled with worry, his attention all focused onto you.

“... are you okay?”

And just like that, you felt the dam inside you crumble to ashes. The mask that you’ve held from the past few weeks is finally dissolving, the facade released from its shackles. Weeks of putting up a front, telling yourself that everything is okay, is now coming to end. ‘I’m fine,’ you would say to yourself. ‘This is nothing, I can handle this myself.’

Oh but darling, there’s only so much you could take in. Not everyone is perfect, and not everyone is indestructible. May we all be human, for we laugh, cry, smile, frown, scream, shout, cheer.

Tears burned through your eyelids, blurring your line of vision as you tried to hold yourself together. You shakily let out a sigh. “.... no,” your voice cracks. Another deep sigh, and you felt a tear drip down your cheek. “I’m… I’m tired, Doyoung.” More tears cascade down your cheeks, bringing your sleeves up to wipe them away with each drop. “I’m exhausted, Doyoung. I’m tired.. of all of this. I’m—”

With the phone still pressed against your ear, you sobbed into the night, finally pouring all your boxed-in emotions out to your lover. You cried out your frustrations, your anger, your desolace. Long have your soul been used to routine that you forgot what warmth felt like. To be cared for, watched for, and loved for.

Your sleeves soaked up all your tears, your eyelids certainly swollen from the sudden rush. You take even breaths, calming yourself down from your breakdown. Throughout your cries, never once did Doyoung strayed away from you, ears firmly pressed against his ear. He took in all, every last drop to mitigate the cold shell you’ve developed over time. He said nothing, only offering his presence as a sort of comfort to you for the time being. Once silence took over, all your tears spent, that’s when he spoke up.

“You did well, y/n.”

You breathing hitches for a moment, heart skipping a beat from his words.

“I’m so, so proud of you, y/n. You made it this far into the semester and for that, I’m proud of you.”

And alas, your smile returns. Minuscule it may be, but it’s more than what you could ask for. The feeling of having your shoulders lifted from your burdens made you feel like you could fly again, soar up in the clouds. Your best friend certainly knows how to cheer you up the most.

“Sorry about all of that,” you chuckled.

“Don’t be sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, I am. You literally just heard me have a breakdown and cry with snots all over the place—”

“I don’t give a damn about all of that, y/n.” There’s a slight shuffle on his end. “I love you for you, and that’s never going to change. I will love you at your lowest, and I will love you at your highest. Even when you feel like there’s no hope left in this world, I will bring you back to earth and hold you and remind you that you are hope.”

Just when you thought you had no more tears left in your system, you could feel the waterworks starting again. You bite down on your lower lip, desperately holding it in as love overcomes you.

“You did well, y/n. Only two more finals to go and you’re finally free.”

You wipe away the stray tear that befallen on your cheek. “Thank you, Doyoung. Really.”

“Now go out there and kick some ass for me, alright? Show those professors who’s the boss around here.”

You giggled. With your two fingers on your temple, you did an informal salute. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

Let this be a reminder to you, to all, that there will always be one person that will love you at your lowest, and will always be there to help pick you back up.

i’m afraid that bandaids are no good for heartache not okay, so tell me when your world is falling down

#doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung fluff #doyoung angst #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #doyoung smut #kim dongyoung #doyoung x reader #doyoung x oc

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