#the last part is kind of a reach - I've only found one mention of it and I'm not good at flower language | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beelmons · 1 year

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Luxury Poker Nights pt. 2

Pairing: Hotch, Reid, Morgan x fem!reader Rating: Explicit, smut (18+, minors do not interact with this story) Word count: 5,806 cw: unprotected sex (do not recommend), sex-servant kink, voyeurism, multiple partners, non-vegan food options, slight degradation, free use kink Summary: It's Aaron's turn to host the poker night, and he figured it would be a great move to invite the entertainment they all fervently enjoyed last time: you. A/N: This was so highly requested I hope it lives up to expectations. Prompted by an original blurb found here Tag list: @illumi3 @ash-recs @canyonmooncreations @howabouticallyou @unlikelyqueenninja @kay-moranguinho and my always honorary mentions: @ihavemanyhusbands @cassiemartzz

Meeting Aaron Hotchner was nothing short of an absolute pleasure. Gentle, kind, considerate, funny when he finally got rid of the stoic boss facade, everything you would love in a partner whether casual or serious. All these reasons played a role in deciding to partake on a very specific contract: to serve as his servant, sexually speaking.

"Hey," Aaron greeted you before leaning in to press a friendly kiss to your cheek.

"Hey, Mr. Hotchner." you replied.

His head tilted and eyebrows raised with playful offense "I've told you, if you don't want to call me Aaron, at least go with Hotch."

Every so often he would call you in, mostly to a very beautiful house owned by a man you knew as Rossi, and you'd come for the sole purpose to act out your role. To serve and please them.

This time, however, he was hosting in his own apartment. It was the classic bachelor pad, the adult version, barely decorated but tidy and resourceful. You had been in there only once, but you had memorized the area pretty well. He also looked especially handsome, navy blue polo shirt and denim black pants with casual sneakers, you could notice his toned biceps in that outfit.

"What are my instructions for today?" you asked as you got in, taking a look around to remember the layout.

"The usual. Although, I might ask you to take charge of the kitchen for a little bit. Bring snacks, beverages, nothing too complicated. Oh, and…” he began to say, reaching for a bag that was laying by the entrance “this.”

From it, he pulled out what seemed like a traditional maid apron. You could tell he had it tailored for your body, and that the lace around it seemed to be fine, not the cheap ones costume stores had. You reached for it and pulled it from the strings you were supposed to tie, you hovered it over your body to catch a preview of what it would look like, the man had a good eye, it sure made you feel hot.

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can ditch it.” he tried to reassure you, seeing how you kept admiring the piece.

“It’s alright, Mr. Hotchner. But a maid outfit? I thought you preferred me in the bare.” you teased.

“Don’t worry, we still get plenty of access to the parts of you we love the most, being that the apron is the only garment of the costume you will actually wear.” his hands slipped in his pockets, his face lighting up with a smug smile “You can change in the bathroom, the guys should be here soon.”

You made your way to the mentioned room to obey your first order of the night. Aaron waited patiently in the kitchen, putting together a couple more things so that the serving part of your job would be easier. Nonetheless, a knock on the door distracted him from his duty. He hurried to open, immediately being greeted by Morgan and Reid.

“Hey, where’s Dave?” he asked, noticing a missing member.

“He said he’s got something to do but he’ll catch us—” Morgan’s eyes fixed on something behind Hotch, and his train of thought completely disappeared “—later.”

The boss turned around when he noticed Spencer’s perplexed eyes, similar to Morgan’s, and he smiled to himself as he turned around to watch you already in your ‘uniform’, to call it some way. The apron was comfortably secured around your waist, the length of it barely covering your front to the middle of your thighs, your back absolutely exposed, being that the fabric of the apron was only on the forepart, your upper body out in the open, with your nipples already perked from the cold air conditioning hitting them. And to them, you were the most beautiful of monuments.

“What’s your safe word?” Aaron asked, his eyes immediately scanning your body.

“Cacao.” you said confidently, your head nodding in reassurance.

Aaron looked back at Spencer and Morgan, making sure they caught what you had said. They both shook their heads in agreement, and so he locked the door behind them “Let’s begin poker night, then.” he ordered.

“I’ll get some drinks for you guys.” you said, and you were about to move to the kitchen when Hotch’s voice stopped you.

“I believe I haven’t given you permission to speak.” he emitted in a commanding voice.

You understood his words for what they were: a warning. He had been clear enough, when you were there to work, you had to be diligent. Always keep yourself busy, available, and quiet, those were the rules you had signed up for. Your hands folded on your lap and you bowed your head slightly in response.

Once they were out of your sight, you headed to the kitchen. You gathered a couple of snacks that Mr. Hotchner had prepared; some peanuts, pretzels, and cut up fruit, added with three open beers. He had let a tray out for you as well, possibly with the intention of making everything easier. By the time you got to the table and began to spread the food and beverages around they had already dealt the cards.

You settled the empty tray on the side on a random surface, and Mr. Hotchner spread one arm in your direction indicating you that he wanted you to join his side; you did as he desired and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you to sit on his leg. As if ritualistic, the hand that was closer to his body was grabbed and brought to his lips, a gentle kiss landed on the back of it, and then he guided it to his member, that at some point he had already exposed. It was an instinct, you already knew what to do. Your hand began to slowly massage the barely hard shaft, and you could hear him exhale particularly hard at the sensation.

“Rules will change for tonight. You can’t bet ‘All in’ unless you have at least fifteen chips, and you can’t bet two rounds in a row.” Aaron began to say.

“Isn’t 15 a bit expensive?” Spencer’s eyes narrowed with doubt.

“Not at all, given that an ‘all in’ winner also gets 10 minutes to command our servant as they please.” his hand dragged upwards, purposely taking his time to brush your skin with his fingertips, nipple included, until they landed on your chin, tilting your face to have you look in the direction of the other two men “And you could agree, she’s worth the risk.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the way they hungrily stared at you, but they didn’t say anything further, both Morgan and Reid simply went back to looking at their cards.

The game began and you hadn’t been given permission to move, you had to remain on Mr. Hotchner’s leg, caressing his member. He seemed unbothered by your steady movement, but you could feel him throb every so often, and it would fill you with cocky pride. That was another rule: you weren’t allowed to go rogue, they came when they wanted to, not when you caused them to. If you acted too smart and tried to make them climax before they wanted to, you were sidelined, given the silent treatment. That was more punishment than doing anything else to you, because chances were you were going to enjoy whatever else.

You would steal a glance at random times to notice his tip swollen and reddened, even when he tried to keep composure, and continued to play his hands normally, you had learned the little twitches his dick made whenever he was getting close. His head turned to place a chaste kiss to your shoulder blade, giving you permission to keep going. Your hand trailed down to give his balls a gentle squeeze, which caused a loud groan to come out of his throat, and after a couple more fast strokes he began to spill his seed.

Mr. Hotchner had been clear that he did not like messes; his entire member was coated in his semen, and some had spilled over his pants as well. You reached for one of the pockets the apron had sown on to find a handkerchief that you recognized as his, in seconds, you were on your knees, you wiped clean the fabric of his pants, his shaft, on the other hand, didn’t require the cloth, you grabbed at the base and licked a strip up, repeating the same movement until he was clean, and hard yet again.

“All in.” Morgan’s voice snapped everyone’s attention, and since you hadn’t been given indication to do otherwise, your mouth kept working Aaron’s dick.

“Already? You’ve only won one round.” Spencer asked, his math not quite adding up.

“I’ve got enough.” he clarified.

“You got exactly 15, though, if you lose this, you don’t get any more.” Hotch looked in his direction.

Morgan’s head tilted slightly to the side, catching sight of your still bobbing head. He smiled as a response to his boss’s explanation, pushing the chips forward to the center of the table.

“She’s worth the risk.” he said, a wink sent to Spencer. You couldn’t help but blush at his words, even if you weren’t able to stop your current activity unless indicated.

The other two men exchanged looks, if they didn’t raise, they would still lose, perhaps that was part of Morgan’s scheme, but they weren’t about to just give you up by default. They pushed the corresponding chips to the pool in the center, and Reid was the first one to open his cards. Full house, nines over jacks. Hotch was in a slump, two pairs, queens and kings.

“Full house.” Morgan said before he opened his cards, and Spencer’s attention was specially perked “Aces over sevens.” he finally said.

Spencer let out a soft curse under his breath as Morgan laughed in pride, he was certainly rejoicing on having made that play. You received a light tap on your shoulder that indicated you it was time to move masters, and so you stood up and directed to stand next to Derek.

“Actually, sweetheart, I will need you in the kitchen for a bit.” he said, his hand nonetheless landing on the skin of your rear, gently squeezing it “Peanuts and pretzels are a bit hard on my stomach, do you think you could make me a quick sandwich?” he asked ever so chivalrously.

“Anything in particular you would like?” you asked, taking his question as permission to speak.

“Some ham and bacon would be excellent, thank you.” with a soft slap of your ass he sent you your merry way.

Kitchen duty was on the original arrangement, although you didn’t quite picture yourself making sandwiches, Derek’s smile was so charming you would learn gourmet cuisine just to please him.

You gathered the required stuff, bread, some mayonnaise, and the ham and bacon. Being that you were topless, using a pan was out of the question, so you used the tray on the small electric oven that was next to the stove to cook the pork strips. You were too entranced by the silly way in which the meat shrunk to notice that Derek had walked into the kitchen, only becoming aware of his presence when he leaned next to you against the counter.

“You make a great maid.” he pointed out, and you bolted up a little from the surprise. His hand instinctively reached for your waist, trying to keep you from falling back “Easy, you might hurt yourself.”

Even when he made sure your feet were steady, he didn’t remove his hand from where it was, in fact, he simply took a couple of steps closer.

“I enjoy servicing.” you said, eyes traveling south. You could see his cock already hanging out from his zipper, and you tried to reach for it in an attempt to caress it. His free hand, however, stopped you.

“I can see that. You also take initiative, that’s impressive.” he began, his hand bringing yours up to press a kiss to it in a similar way Hotch used to do, but instead of allowing it to stroke his member, he directed it to the kitchen utensils you had laid out “But I believe for things to be done right they have to be done with the utmost concentration, so why don’t we focus on that sandwich, huh?”

You pouted a little and he let out a light chuckle at your disappointment. You went back to the task at hand, getting a dull butter knife to begin spreading the mayonnaise around the slice. You felt the warmth of his touch leave your waist, and you were about to complain yet again until you felt one of his fingers sneak between your legs and trail up your slit.

You shuddered and your legs instinctively closed. He tsk’ed his tongue in disapproval, and you understood to return them to their original position. Derek wasted no time, the two fingers in the middle of his hand slipping into your cunt. He was fixated on your face, absorbing every expression as you melted due to his digits, your hands gripping on the surface, leaving the sandwich unattended.

“I haven’t told you to stop working, have I?” he whispered commandingly.

His fingers began to curl upwards inside of you as they continued to move inside and out, getting coated with your juices. You tried your best to keep yourself still, your hand shakily reaching for the rest of the ingredients. He didn’t stop his movements even when you dropped the knife on the counter from the way he hit the back of your cunt.

“Careful.” he warned at the clinking sound, you peeked over your shoulder while you grabbed the utensil and out of the corner of your eye you could notice his hand moving over his now hardened cock “Come on, beautiful, keep going.”

You shook your head a little in an attempt to clear it, even when his relentless fingers weren’t giving you the opportunity. You finally managed to pay attention and began to assemble the deli meats. You barely noticed when he moved behind you until you felt his tip rub against your entrance.

His hands ran over your front as he pushed inside of you, slowly, and they landed on your breasts. A pleasure mewl slipped past your mouth, but you cut it short.

“Come on, now, I’m not Hotch.” he complained while he gave you the chance to adjust to his member “You don’t gotta have my permission to talk, let that voice out.”

His hips snapped rather roughly against yours, a loud slapping sound echoing around the kitchen; it caused a loud moan from you, one that you were sure could be heard from the other room. “That’s a good girl.” he praised.

His initial rhythm wasn’t slow, after all he was in a hurry. It made assembling the sandwich all much more difficult, you struggled to open the door of the electric oven, almost getting burned thanks to the way his cock so deeply pushed inside you, all while your throat was unable to keep quiet, intermittent noises unsteady from his thrusts.

One of his hands slipped down and in between your legs, the tip of his middle finger rubbed at your clit with a gentle speed, almost unmatching to his hips. You sensed him look over your shoulder to check up on the status of his food, and your hand trembled as you set the bacon down to finish it up. He laughed with pleasure, and his fingers dipped on the skin around your hips.

“Can you take it, baby?” you could feel his thick member erratically twitching inside of you as he asked, and you nodded your head fervently “Of course you can.” he reassured.

He snapped a couple more times, rough enough to make you lose your balance and press up against the counter, before you heard him grunt and felt your cunt being filled with his spill. The sensation of his cock pushing your walls sent you over the edge, and you began to drip with your release, a loud moan accompanying the blissful sensation. He pulled out with ease, not waiting for you to come out of your high, and stepped away to grab the meal you had prepared.

“Thank you, beautiful, looks delicious.” he winked at you with his signature charming smile before he began walking out of the kitchen “Oh, and pretty boy said he wanted some iced tea, be a doll and bring it after you’re done cleaning up, thanks.”

Without further word, he vanished from your sight. You had to take a second to catch your breath, desperate for a bit more friction. You considered touching yourself, but if Mr. Hotchner were to catch you, you wouldn’t be able to come again all night, he would make sure of it.

You could feel Derek’s cum beginning to drip, but the cleanliness of the kitchen was a priority. You abided by the task that you had been handed, after a couple of minutes of cleaning up, since you hadn’t made a big mess, you prepared the beverage for Dr. Reid and headed back to the area. You settled the glass of iced tea next to the man that had requested it.

“All in.” as soon as you stood next to him, you heard the youngest of the group exclaim, he then muttered a casual ‘thank you’ at the gesture of having his drink brought over.

Hotch and Morgan exchanged playful glances. They knew he was rushing, his decision possibly prompted by the fact that your breasts were so close to his face; they noticed the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and Aaron had paid attention to how he palmed his bulge while he heard you get taken in the kitchen. Logic just flew out of the window when you were around, and his coworkers adored seeing that side of him.

“You got me.” Morgan said as he folded his cards, and Reid cockily took a sip off his drink.

“I’ll play.” Hotch mentioned before adding his chips to the pool.

“Two pairs. Kings and Queens.” Spencer opened his hand.

On his part, Hotch could simply scoff while he threw his cards on the table. “Jacks and Queens.” he said with pretend defeat.

The blond man boasted with his expression in pure pride. He didn’t use to be the kind to order you around, unlike the other two who had gotten very comfortable, and preferred you took the initiative during game sessions.

This time, nonetheless, he looked quite eager to take control. Once he noticed you looking at him expectantly, waiting patiently for your command. He narrowed his eyes, ever inexperienced, trying to come up with something, or rather trying to find the right way to ask.

“Could you…” he stopped to try and analyze his next words “Could you bend over?” he motioned towards the table.

It took your entire strength to not laugh, you weren’t making fun of him, he was just ridiculously adorable, and it made hard contrast with the whole situation in the first place and his actual sexual interests. You obeyed, not wanting to make him self-conscious, moving Derek’s plate out of the way elegantly before resting your entire body face-down against the piece of furniture.

You let out a quiet whimper from the contrast in temperature; your ass was left up and exposed in his direction. He finally stood up, and you looked back to peek at what he was up to, his hips had lined up with yours, his member was still clothed, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing at your asscheeks and pressing his bulge against your dripping cunt.

“Why don’t we change the game?” his eyes were glued on your skin wrinkling up with every push, but he kept talking to his coworkers “How about blackjack? Hotch can play house” he proposed.

“Reid, it’s literally illegal for you to play blackjack in two states.” Hotch pointed out.

“That’s true. You have an unfair advantage.” Morgan added.

“Card counting can only be done with extreme concentration and observation of the cards being dealt.” his eyes didn’t leave your body, his palm gently massaging your skin as he kept rubbing himself on you “And I happen to be too busy to pay enough attention.”

“Alright, but blackjack is a fast game. The player needs to win at least three rounds to claim their prize. Draws don’t count towards the winning number.” Aaron clarified.

The rest of the players nodded in agreement. Mr. Hotchner was the dealer, since he was playing the role of ‘the house’, and he began assigning the first round of cards. Before he got to Reid, though, he noticed there was no space on the table, your body occupying most of it, and so he resolved he would just put it over your naked back.

You gulped in surprise and your body seemed to get hotter, you surely weren’t expected to be used this way; your nipples brushed against the surface of the table, and Reid noticed how you pushed back against him slightly.

The doctor pulled away, satisfied for the time being with the friction that he had gotten, and realized there were a couple of white-ish stains.

“Come on, Morgan!” he exclaimed once he noticed it was semen “Can’t you clean up after yourself?”

Derek could only break into a laugh, and you noticed a small smirk on Aaron’s face as well.

“Sorry, kid.” he simply said, waiting for Hotch to open his second card.

Reid made an unamused expression and crouched down to observe the situation. You still had some drip down your thigh, and your slit still had some traces of Morgan’s release.

“I’ll help you out, but I need you to do something for me.” he said, palming at your ass to let you know he was talking to you; you hummed, replying that you were listening intently “I won’t be able to use my mouth, so if I suck, it means hit, if I insert, it means stay”

You furrowed your brows with confusion, but he didn’t give you much time to understand. You felt his tongue trail up your inner thigh, taking the liquid that had spilled over it with it, and shortly the muscle pressed against your slit, taking a lap at your entire sex.

Your hands gripped at the side edges of the square table, on your right side Derek Morgan was looking intently at his cards, on your left Aaron Hotchner was paying close attention to the youngest’s movements. He snapped back to the game once your pleased noises started flowing, his hand darting out to land on top of yours and rub at the back of it slightly. Aaron dealt the second round of cards and Reid’s landed on your back once again.

“14.” the older man said.

A little distracted by the way his tongue teased your labia, you didn’t pay attention to the words the dealer had said until you felt Spencer’s lips wrap around your clit and intensely suck the air in. The sensation, which was foreign, made your legs go weak; the man pressed his face against your rear to keep you up, and it only made the interaction so much hotter.

“Hit me!” you exclaimed in between moans.

“8. Adds to 22.” Hotch said calmly.

Reid grumbled against your cunt, his tongue going back to your entrance instead, superficially licking, taking his time to taste everything around it.

Morgan was busted as well, which meant the house took the round. Spencer kept a steady and slow pace; you felt the cards being removed from your back and, almost immediately, a new one was added.

“20.” Hotch said again.

The youngster’s hands had been placed against the outer sides of your thighs in the meantime, however once he heard the number they traveled up. He pulled away and you slightly whined at the lack of contact, his thumbs spread the outer part of your pussy open and his tongue immediately slipped inside your entrance.

“Stay.” you struggled to let out, only coming out as a shaky breath.

Hotch opened a couple more cards, Derek was busted again, so there was a chance for Reid’s win.

“21 for the house, house wins.” Aaron exclaimed.

Your head defeatedly laid against the wooden table, the man buried in your rear could feel your walls clenching and your hips slightly moving to grind against yours. Your shaky breaths didn’t only alert him that your second orgasm of the night was coming, the other two men could also tell.

“Reid, your time with her is almost up.” Aaron pointed out after taking a look at his watch.

Spencer pulled away once again, to your discomfort, and narrowed his eyes pretending to think.

“I’ll tell you what, win this round and I’ll let you orgasm.” Reid proposed to you.

You trembled a little with anticipation, feeling your orgasm edging on. Instead of allowing his tongue back on you, he simply pressed open-mouthed kisses to your labia, making sure he wouldn’t touch any sensitive areas.

Aaron dealt another round of cards over your back, not even paying attention to your begging face.

“16.” he notified you since your eyes were tightly shut with irritation from being so close yet unable to release.

“Hit me.” you commanded, still feeling Reid’s wet lips kissing your sides.

“3. Adds to 19.” He clarified as he threw another card against your back.

“Hit me.” you said once again.

Aaron and Spencer exchanged looks, it was a very risky move, statistically heavily improbable.

Hotch opened the new card against your back, and he let out a pleased chuckle. “2. Adds to twenty one.”

Reid laughed with incredulity, but he was a man of his word. His lips clasped your sensitive nub once again, and he sucked the air in as his tongue moved rapidly from side to side. A high-pitched moan at his movements, and you couldn’t help but to release your juices over his face. You could hear an erotic slurping sound from the back, he was abiding by his promise of keeping you clean.

“Well played!” he beamed at you and cleared the cards from your back “That was a very unlikely pull, I’m surprised you made it.”

“Certainly.” Hotch reassured as he dealt the next round of cards.

Reid had sat back down on his chair, and as the pieces of carton landed on you, you decided to stay put on the table. Spencer’s eyes would travel from his cards to your ass from time to time, almost as if he was pondering his next move after he won.

However, he wouldn’t be as lucky, and neither would Derek, since the next round was won by the house, which meant Hotch was back in control. You were about to stand back up and his hand laid on your bare back, stopping your movement,

“Actually, honey, why don’t you remain there for a little bit more?” he commanded and you obediently remained “Reid, move.” he said standing up.

The younger furrowed his brows with unintentional defiance “But this is my seat…” he quietly complained.

“You can have your seat back once I’m done with her.” Hotch said, his tone was as imposing, but you could tell he was a little more gentle. You didn’t know the exact nature of their relationship, but you had figured Spencer was a soft spot for him.

He finally obeyed and stood up and away from the chair, leaving enough space for Hotch to stand behind you. You could immediately feel the tip of his member prodding at your entrance, after what Reid had done to you, you certainly didn’t need any more preparation. You were overstimulated as it was, but his cock was always welcome, and he could tell by the way you were clenching around nothing simply by having him so close.

He smirked to himself at the feeling and immediately allowed himself inside of you. You grunted with pleasure as you felt him enter, your fingers, tired from gripping on the sides of the table, beginning to curl around in the air.

“Here, you can grab onto this.” the ever so chivalrous Derek Morgan reached out to intertwine his fingers with yours, giving you a soft area for you to squeeze trying to not lose control.

Mr. Hotchner wasn’t going to pretend being gentle, his thrusts picking up speed as soon as you had gotten used to his size. He moved his shirt slightly aside, enjoying every second of watching himself disappear between your contracting walls. He let out a soft groan in pleasure, and you could tell he was beginning to lose himself in you. His hand gripped at your buttock, squeezing roughly to help him move your hips back and forth.

The other two participants didn’t seem to move a finger, they could only stare, with pleased expressions on their face, at the way tears began to prickle on the corner of your eyes. Reid reached to land a hand on top of your head soothingly, and his kindness was always appreciated.

Your obnoxious sounds were a delight to the three of them, therefore they dreaded the tune of a ringing phone interrupting the melody they adored. Hotch reached for the gadget within his pocket, furrowing his brows at the caller ID.

“Yeah, JJ?” he said and made a ‘shushing’ sign to Spencer and Derek.

Reid gently moved his hand from your head to your mouth, initially he was simply going to cover it with his palm, but an impulsive thought beat him to it: his index and middle finger slipped inside your mouth and pressed against your tongue.

“Suck.” he ordered in a whisper “It will help you keep quiet.”

You obeyed the doctor’s order, however, focusing on coating his digits in your saliva; your sounds were kept muffled in your throat, but they escaped your lips from time to time, since Aaron was not giving you a second of rest.

“Can’t it wait? I see. It’s fine, Reid and Morgan are with me, call Dave, we’ll meet you there in 15.” Hotch continued instructing. He was doing his best to appear unbothered, and he was purposely hitting deeper each time, almost making it a challenge for you to keep your sounds down.

“A case?” Morgan inquired as soon as his superior got off the phone.

“And urgent.” he put the device away once again and leaned slightly over you. His fingers glued themselves to your clit, circling it slowly, he was trying to, most likely, rush your orgasm. The pleasure it brought to you was a little painful, being that it had been the part of your body that had received the most attention during the night. You whined at the sensation, and Reid had to slide his fingers further back to keep you from screaming.

“You know, Hotch, there’s a question that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while.” Spencer suddenly emitted, and Aaron looked curiously in his direction, prompting him to inquire “Are you really paying her?”

The question caused Hotch to chuckle slightly “No, it’s more like an arrangement.” he confessed, still focused on pounding your cunt.

“Then what does she get out of it?” his eyes narrowed as he observed you, fucked out of your mind, swallow your cheeks around his fingers.

“She gets to come,” he clarified “as many times as she can take.”

As he spoke, his hand raised to land a loud, yet not utterly strong, slap on your ass; he did that sometimes when he allowed you to release. His hips snapped one final time, pressing all the way in to spill his cum inside of you. Your third orgasm of the night was divine, your teeth slightly gritting against Reid’s skin.

You laid there, absolutely exhausted, for a couple of minutes as they gathered their things and fixed up their clothes. Once you had recovered your energy enough to stand up, you felt your knees betraying you almost immediately. Morgan bolted from his nearby spot to offer his body as support, his arm surrounding your middle.

“You alright?” he asked with concern and you nodded.

“Here.” Spencer came closer with a wet wipe that he handed to you.

“I’m sorry we can’t see you off, but this is urgent.” Hotch came out of a random room with a briefcase on his hand and his pristine suit already on “Rest as much as you want and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, just make sure to lock the door when you leave.”

Without saying any further he leaned closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. He muttered a ‘let’s go’ directed to his subordinates and almost dashed outside the apartment. Morgan simply took a quick peck at the side of your head and told you to ‘take care’. Spencer stood there awkwardly for a second; you could see in his eyes that he was trying to do something, anything, but he couldn’t find the right gesture. Unable to take it much longer, you curled your hand into a fist and offered it in his direction. He bumped it with a fist of his own, and both of you laughed with a bit of embarrassment.

“Listen,” you said before he could move away, slightly entranced by his hazel eyes “the arrangement I have with Mr. Hotchner…” you diverted your gaze, suddenly slightly embarrassed “...it’s not exclusive.” you finally said.

Spencer’s eyes opened and eyebrows raised in surprise, were you insinuating what he thought you were? His mouth opened and closed in search for an answer, but he struggled to make sense of anything, too scared to diffuse the interest you had shown in him.

“You don’t have to agree right now,” you reached behind you, to the side table that had the landline phone on it, to grab a pad and a pen and immediately wrote down your number “if you want to explore a contract of your own, give me a call.” you said with a smile handing the paper over to him.

“I will!” he said with almost too much excitement.

“Reid!” Morgan yelled from the corridor.

Spencer let out a quick curse and wrinkled his face with frustration “I’ll call you.” he said before he left in a rush.

You giggled a little with teenage-like excitement, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced since you first started your dynamic with Mr. Hotchner. New guy, new conditions, new games. Perhaps poker is not the only way to have fun.

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charmedreincarnation · 9 months

Note

My sucess story

Trigger Warning: Abusive, homophobia, mentions of suicide

Hey there, Maya! I just had to take a moment and express my appreciation for all the fantastic posts you put out. I can now confirm, without a shadow of a doubt, that shifting is real, manifesting is real, and so is the void. Our desires and ambitions aren't in vain.

I've been part of the shifting community since 2020 when it exploded on TikTok. It might not matter much, but as a gay man, I rarely saw other guys in the community (though Reddit and Amino have a more diverse crowd). I've always felt more comfortable in women-centric spaces because they tend to be less judgmental.

I never saw success stories from guys, especially the kind I wanted to see - like waking up in a new world, not just manifesting money or a girlfriend (or boyfriend in my case >.<). I've always been spiritual and interested in witchcraft, voodoo, deities, and now manifesting and shifting. But it felt like nothing would let me shift.

Growing up with homophobic and physically abusive parents, struggling with poverty, depression, homelessness, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, and more, I began to feel like you could only manifest and shift if your life was okay. I didn't have the luxury of time or safety to practice methods, constantly dealing with noise, verbal abuse, or physical violence.

Then, I read this post

https://www.reddit.com/r/shiftingrealities/comments/14v4lw3/how_to_shift_the_next_time_you_go_to_sleep/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=ioscss&utm_content=2&utm_term=1

It led me to your Tumblr because OP used some of your old posts and talked about the concept of the void. All searched lead to tumblr. A couple of months ago (2.5 ish) after one of the worst days of my life, I went to bed sobbing, trying to block out the noise around me, praying and crying for anything - death, shifting, a new identity...

Everything around me started to fade - it was as if I was being engulfed by a white, serene blanket of nothingness. It was completely silent, and I couldn't see or feel anything. The only thing that seemed to persist was my awareness.

Now, I've read about the void before, but mostly in the context of it being a black, empty space. So, I'm not entirely sure if what I experienced was indeed the void or something altogether different. The concept still baffles me a bit, but I'm learning and growing through these experiences.

Regardless of where I was, my heart was set on reaching my dr.I kept praying and hoping, to wake up in my DR.

I woke up in my Twitch streamer DR! I found myself in a completely unfamiliar yet perfect place. My room was equipped with a high-end PC, top-notch gaming gear, and quaint decor items. Milo, my dog, was there too. I was sharing a mansion in LA with my boyfriend and four other streamers. The house was beyond my imagination, and streaming here was a dream come true. As night fell, my friends and I explored the vibrant LA nightlife, creating lasting memories.

After a week, i can’t lie I almost forgot I had shifted here. Then, I set an intention to shift back into this reality but where I had moved out, lived with my best friend and their supportive parents, mastered shifting and manifesting, had my desired looks, and money came easily to me. And it worked!

Since then, I've been living my best boujee gay life, and I shift all the time. I even created a waiting room where I'm immortal and use it whenever I need a break. I wish I could offer better advice, but like everyone says, there isn't a key to shifting. It's different for everyone. But you can and will shift. You can manifest your dream life. You can and deserve to be happy

Oh my god, I'm so happy for you, love 💕💕. I also completely related to what you felt. I know it can seem like your circumstances are holding you back, but believe me when I say this - that couldn't be further from the truth.

It's that same resilience, and your ability to persist despite the odds, that paved the way to your dream life. There’s nothing, I mean nothing that can stop you. Not wavering, crying, or doubt. Nothing. If you want it, it’s yours.

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #reality shifting #shiftblr #void success

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athanza · 23 days

Text

Starlett - Part 3

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Final part

2296

Suddenly Irene looked unsteady and she held a hand to the wound on her side.

"Fancy seein' you here." She chuckled painfully.

"I know, I haven't changed a bit."

She laughed but immediately regretted it, groaning in pain.

"You uh," she said, blood dripping down her leg. "you wouldn't happen to have a stimpak on you would ya? I'm uh...I'm not feelin' too hot."

He looked her over, the gash was deep, she'd need more than one stimpak. "Unfortunately I don't think I do."

Suddenly her legs gave out from underneath her and she collapsed.

"Whoa." He said, catching her before she hit the ground.

Irene woke up hours later, lying on her back in what looked like a small cave, her head resting on a saddle bag.

She didn't look any different than she did before the war, albeit a little dishevelled, Cooper figured that however Moldaver survived must've been how she did.

"Coop." Irene croaked.

He looked up from cleaning his revolver and saw her try to move.

"Easy there Starlett, you're pretty banged up."

She winced in pain again and lay back down. "I thought you were dead." She said, weak from the blood loss.

"I should be. So should you."

"Fate had other plans I guess."

Cooper scoffed quietly. She didn't press it, even though she wanted to know if Janey made it.

"You're gonna need some proper medical attention." He said. "Ain't much out here though."

"Eh, it's just a scratch." She joked, swallowing a mouth-full of blood.

Cooper got up and handed her a flask of water, half empty. She took a few sips and handed it back.

"I'm lookin' for Lee, you know where I can find 'er?

"I've been looking for her myself, I'm afraid I can't help you there, I've found nothing but dead ends. The bitch is hard to find even in a fucking desert."

He smiled a little at the very different tone coming out of her mouth than he remembered; she must've been in the wasteland for a little while, at least.

"I'm glad I found you cowboy. You're about the only fond memory I've got left. I needed that right about now."

"I'm not the man you remember."

"Doesn't matter. You've reminded me of something I haven't seen in years."

"And what's that?"

"Kindness."

2077

The doorbell rang and Cooper opened it to find Irene looking remarkably understated compared to her shows, but she still had that aire of grace that she always carried with her no matter where she was.

"Come on in." He smiled, stepping aside for her.

"I can't thank you enough for letting me stay, I know its a lot of ask of someone you just met."

"It's the least I can do."

He closed the door and took her suitcase for her.

Janey appeared with Roosevelt, having been playing in the backyard and Cooper gestured to her.

"Irene, this is my daughter Janey. Janey this is Irene, the friend from work I was telling you about."

"Irene Taylor!?" She said, her eyes sparkling. "I've seen you on TV! Your voice is sooo beautiful! You definitely should have won the award on last month's show."

Irene and Cooper both laughed.

"Looks like you have a fan."

"That's very kind of you." Irene smiled sweetly.

"Janey, why don't you watch some cartoons while I show Irene to her room?"

"Ok." She beamed and sat down with Roosevelt in front of the TV.

Irene followed Cooper to the back of the house where the guest room was and looked at all the family photos as they walked through. Wedding photos, Janey's baby photos, a puppy photo of Roosevelt. When they finally reached the room she felt even more uncomfortable.

"This is you." He said, placing her suitcase on the bed.

"I'm so sorry to put you in this position Mr. Howard, I do appreciate it very much. I didn't know who else to come to."

"Don't worry about it." He smiled warmly. "I'm just glad you decided to leave."

"So am I. You made me realise the cause wasn't worth the abuse, no matter how much I told myself it was. Lee won't be happy but it'll be worth it in the end."

"I'm sure it will."

She smiled softly at him. "I'll let you get back to your daughter. You'll barely know I'm here."

"Nonsense," he said. "You're joining us for dinner, plus I'm sure Janey would love to spend some time with you."

She got choked up a bit at that. Everything she had done since getting into show business had been for other people, someone doing something like this for her was something special.

"Thank you Mr. Howard."

"Cooper." He replied.

2296

Irene lay sleeping and Cooper sat wondering what to do with her.

He couldn't spare any resources, and he didn't need stimpaks, so he had none. Could he carry her to Filly and get her to a doctor? Sure, but that was in the opposite direction of where he was headed, where they were both headed.

It would be more humane to shoot her now to save her the pain, but he couldn't bring himself to do it and it angered him.

"Fuck." He said, getting to his feet and picking up his gun, walking out of the cave in search of supplies.

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deaths-presence · 2 months

Text

Two of a Kind || Dazai x Reader Part 8: Ties that Bond

Story Summary: The search for your brother has led you into conflict between the Armed Detective Agency of Yokohama and the Guild. Fitzgerald keeps you involuntarily, that is until you finally find your chance of escape. Will you find strength within the ADA, or will you only become more astray? Word Count: 1.9k Characters Featured: Yosano Akiko, Dazai Osamu Warnings: afab!reader, slowburn, plot heavy to build up romance, lmk if I happened to miss anything please! Tag List: @decaf-nosebleed @isa-ghost @xakumi @bunchofdoodlesinspace A/N: HI I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN CONSUMED BY OTHER MEDIA I promise I have not forgotten this fic.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You honestly couldn’t act surprised when you first stepped into Dazai’s apartment. Your eyes shifted to the tatami mats that covered the floor in a small moment of amazement. You always wondered how comfortable they were, given the cultural difference. You were satisfied to find out that they were more pleasant to walk on than the hardwood floors back home once you took your shoes off.

The rest of the scene in front of you was what you expected in some capacity. Not only was it clearly messy with empty bottles and takeout containers, but disorganized to where you weren’t sure how Dazai found anything in his own home. You kept your mouth shut. As sarcastic as you could be, you didn’t want to bring harsh judgment for someone who was so distinctly depressed. You didn’t know everything about Dazai after meeting each other in less than a week.

“I hate to know the answer, but where exactly will I be staying while I’m here?” Your voice was neutral. Your gaze was taking in the small size of the space, and you couldn’t help but notice that there were no walls showcasing the possibility of more rooms besides the bathroom.

“Oh, you can just steal my futon. I made sure to clean it before leaving this morning,” he mentioned casually, his eyes watching your face. He smirked as you whirled your head towards him.

“What?! I can’t just take your bed! Where will you sleep?” you stammered.

He shrugged his angular shoulders. “I’ll just sleep on the mats. It’s better than having you sleep on them, unless you’d rather share my futon?”

Your hand that meant to swat at him missed. “In your dreams.”

“I will,” he quipped smugly, trying to hide his amusement at your glare. “Make yourself comfortable as much as you wish. I’m afraid I can’t stay long since I have a meeting to attend.”

“Oh, at the ADA?” you questioned.

“No, I’m afraid not. It’s something more complicated than that,” he sighed in annoyance you managed to pick up from his voice.

You didn’t ask since it was not your business to begin with. You weren’t an Agency member, so this sort of discussion wasn’t something you were entitled to. Your eyes were stuck on the appearance of the kitchen now, and it made you ask a question out loud before you could stop it.

“Dazai, when was the last time you had something homemade?” You barely registered the squeak coming out of your mouth before slapping a hand over it, but Dazai only laughed at your horrified expression.

“It’s okay. It’s adorable to have someone so worried about me,” he responded, his voice lowering as he leaned in. You recovered from your comment and scoffed before stepping outside of his reach.

“Oh, you’re one to worry about alright.”

He opened his mouth to continue your little back and forth but was stopped by the chime of his phone. He looked at the screen before smiling towards you. “I’m afraid that’s my call, but I would love to stay here with you instead.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you deadpanned while crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Which reminds me,” he started before searching through his pockets, “I got you something in case you happen to need to call anyone.”

You looked over the simple flip phone before taking it with a nod. “It’s better than nothing.”

“My thoughts exactly! I already added my number so if there’s something wrong, I’m only a call away,” he informed while sauntering towards the door. He paused from leaving to look back at you. “Need anything?”

“Uh—” You did a quick glance around as if trying to find something—anything—that would come to mind. Drawing a blank, you shook your head. Dazai grinned before shutting the door and locking it behind him. You wandered around your newfound silence for a moment before making the decision yourself. You had to at least help clean.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Part of you was glad that you hadn’t made anything for dinner to try to surprise Dazai. Most of your time was spent deep cleaning and organizing the entire space, pausing very few times to wipe the sweat off your brow and look at your progress before continuing. Not only did you feel better with your mind off everything happening, but the hours had passed for you to see that the sky was now starting to turn dark and become speckled with stars.

You warily answered a knock that came at your door, your eyes brightening when they landed on Yosano with offered food. Two portions: one for you and one for Dazai when he got back from the mission he was on, she told you. You temporarily invited her in, and her magenta eyes didn’t seem to recognize the room.

“Did you do all this?” she questioned. “Dazai didn’t make you, did he?”

“He didn’t have to. I figured it would be a nice shock, and I feel better about it,” you replied, starting into your yakisoba. “Remind me that I owe you, by the way.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Yosano waves off your offer. “I figured Dazai wouldn’t have anything for you to eat anyway.”

“I didn’t even give that a thought when he asked if I needed anything,” you groaned in disappointment. How could you forget something so simple? “Especially since I thought he would be back by now.”

You both conversed for roughly half an hour before she took her leave, and after cleaning for hours on end you were starting to find yourself dozing off after the feeling of a full stomach. Your eyes slid over to Dazai’s futon that he had offered you, but everything inside you said not to take it. It was clear that he didn’t mind having much, and to take something such as his own bed didn’t sit right with you. Instead, you decided to gather blankets you managed to store away. You made a makeshift bed with them and curled up to get comfortable, your eyes closing into a deep sleep.

It was hours later before you felt a strange warmth bring you out of sleep. It disappeared once your eyes fluttered open, and you blearily looked towards a familiar figure kneeling next to you. Dazai didn’t get to say a word as you sat up.

“Dazai, your arm—” you began while reaching for his wrist. You examined it carefully but found that nothing was wrong. “I thought it was broken.”

“I thought I told you I would sleep elsewhere,” he retorted, his voice tired and quiet. “I also purposely made it seem like it was broken. It’s my favorite gag.”

“Favorite gag? I thought you were hurt,” you sulked. It wasn’t until your half-asleep mind registered that you were touching Dazai and hovering so close that you withdrew your touch. “What time is it?”

“Late enough not to worry. I expected the mission to be a quick defeat. Did you know that Lovecraft’s ability isn’t really a gift?”

“Genuinely, no,” you yawned out. “He was always a mystery to me besides claiming to want to sleep. What do you mean that it wasn’t a gift? Oh, Yosano also came by with food because I was an idiot and didn’t ask before you left. There’s a container for you.”

“I couldn’t nullify and cancel his ability with my touch.” Dazai’s eyes followed to where you pointed, and smirked when you didn’t move while trying to wave you off. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sleeping until I know you’ve eaten,” you grumbled and squinted your eyes at him. “I’m not responsible for you starving yourself. When asked why I’m so tired, I’ll tattle on you. I can hear Kunikida already.”

The giggle he gave at that shouldn’t have made your chest flutter, but you were successful as he finally stood and went to heat up the yakisoba. Your eyes were on him while he wasn’t watching. He had managed to fool you with the idea of his arm being broken for a reason, and you were beginning to think that he did intentionally. His mind was possibly just as brilliant as Miss Louisa’s, if not more. It was plausible he saw right through you and merely pretended to play dumb.

“See something you like?” His teasing voice brought you out of your thoughts, making you hold back a strangled noise at being caught before you turned your head away. Yes, he certainly wore a mask to keep himself distanced from you.

“I’m true to my promise, that’s all,” you scoffed. You mentally cursed as he shook his head, knowing it was a horrible lie.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it was comfortable. Your eyes were fighting to stay open again, and it was Dazai’s voice that shook you out of it.

“You didn’t have to clean everything up. Thank you.” The tone had caught you off guard. It wasn’t his usual jeering one, nor was it honeyed. It was raw and gentle, making his words more genuine to you. You only shrugged, but on the inside, you yearned for him to talk like that more often.

“Consider it my thanks for letting me stay,” you said, your own voice softening in return. “As appreciation for the ADA as well. It’s better than my treatment in the Guild.”

“Would you ever be interested in joining an organization to use your ability in?” You caught the way Dazai’s head tilted to the side while he waited for your response.

“It would depend on what happens when I find Roberte. My priority despite the setbacks has always been trying to locate him. I genuinely haven’t thought about my own outcomes,” you replied. “I would also have to make sure that the organization I dedicate myself to follows my own morals.”

Despite the occasional flirtatious comment towards you, you found conversation with Dazai pleasant as he ate, and you listened. Your earlier thought of him being brilliant was confirmed once you were able to get him deep into a conversation about the strategy of the broken arm. He had purposely let Lovecraft believe that he had ripped it off, only to end up being blown up from the inside of his monstrous form where he was weakest. You were also amused by how Dazai shivered and grimaced at the mention of a man named Chuuya, going onto a rant focused on him after mentioning how he helped defeat the eldritch being. It wasn’t until Dazai realized you were fighting exhaustion that he stopped.

“Finally released from the curse of making sure I didn’t go to bed starving?” he questioned with a smile.

“Shut it,” you grumbled sleepily. You started to shift back into the nest of blankets you had made but began protesting when Dazai pushed you off onto the nearby futon.

“As host, I have to make sure my guest is comfortable,” he excused, but his smug smile made you want to throttle him. You gave up, having no other choice with Dazai taking over the blankets. A small pout was on your face as you got under the blankets. “Thought you said it was adorable for someone to worry over you,” you snorted. It wasn’t long before you surrendered to sleep once again, not even noticing the way Dazai was watching you.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x female reader #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n

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unrequitedloveletter · 8 months

Text

A Start- N.L x fem! reader

all right! This one was requested by @naushtheaspiringauthor! Naush, if you're reading this I am so sorry that this request took so long to write! I've been struggling with motivation as far as writing requests is concerned lately and today I had a bit of coffee to help me get started! I hope you like it and if you don't, feel free to reach out and I'll make the necessary changes.

The type of Grisha that was wanted for this fic was never specified so I went ahead and had her be a tidemaker, which I hope is all right!

Fic type-this is a bit of both angst and fluff

warnings- a lot of mentions of the war, a mention of throwing someone overboard, and this is not my best work as far as editing is concerned--I kind of rushed it a bit because I am running on motivative fumes right now and didn't want to lose motivation part of the way through the editing process.

You were standing at the bow of the Volkvolny, Alina Starkov not three feet to your left. She had her gaze to the sea just as you did, unblinking and unphased but relentless in her hatred for the Darkling, just as everyone else silently was on the boat.

You were one of the Tidemakers on Sturmhonds crew, having been brought on by Tamar and only on your second day aboard the Volkvolny. You hadn't officially met Sturmhond yet but you didn't doubt that you would in due time, if the hostage situation that the Darkling had brought onto the boat was to be of any indication.

Your gaze was on the sea as the Darkling approached and hauled Alina away, lost in your own thoughts of life when you got to land again--comfortable bed, decent food, everything you needed to be content in that moment.

You headed away from the bow of the ship, thanking Tamar as she passed you one of the rum rations she'd just won in a game of cards, trying not to listen in on the conversation between Alina, Sturmhond, and the Darkling that was happening barely three feet away from you. You nearly let your curiosity get the best of you but with a sip of your rum you found yourself tired and ready to do anything but eavesdrop.

You let Tamar drag you off to a game of rummy, laughing a bit as she led you away and your rum sloshed around a bit in the mug, ready to get drunker than words could describe and barely remember it all through the haze generated by your headache the following morning.

The weeks passed, and you found yourself assigned to Mals care. You didn't fight it because, while you were on Sturmhonds crew, you were stuck taking orders from the Darkling while Mal hunted for the Sea Whip and Alinas second amplifier. With the second amplifier, Alina would get stronger, and eventually she'd be able to kill him.

You planned to watch the Darkling meet the end he deserved, for all that he'd done to your country and for all that he'd done to the people you held closest, and if getting a step closer to witnessing his death meant looking after one of the people he took prisoner, so be it.

Mal noticed that you, for someone who he thought must've been on the Darklings staff, were much kinder than those he'd dealt with in the previous few days, and as you purposefully lead him past Alina so that their hands might graze for a moment, a fleeting look might have been exchanged, all you could do was shrug.

"He trusts me because I'm willing to wear a bit of black and because the bastard thinks of Sturmhonds crew as his bloody own," you said. "Enjoy your fresh air while it lasts, lover boy. I'll try to persuade Alinas guards into letting the two of you have a chat after dinner."

"Why are you being so kind to us?" Mal asked, ignoring the whip of the wind as it drove past the two of you. "You seem quite stoic."

"You're using stoic in the place of rude and I don't appreciate that--I am stoic but rude is not something that I am or ever will be," you said. "I am being kind to you because you've gone without it for too long. You go without kindness for more than a few weeks and you'll turn out exactly as I have--reluctant to let people in, keeping everyone at arms length. Nothing will happen to you if you go down that route, and if anything does happen to you, it will be as rare as a dandelion in winter."

"And I think it's because of Sturmhond," Mal said. "You've clearly started to fancy the bloke and maybe you think that getting in our good favor will get you in his?"

"I am a twenty-one year old woman," you said. "I do not need to ferry the favor of a couple of seventeen year olds, regardless of the fact that one of them is a saint, to gain the favor of my own bloody boss, Mr. Oretsev, but thank you for that. I totally appreciate your assumptions."

"It's not an assumption," Mal said. "It's an observation. I noticed the way that you watched him when he was with Alina the other day--you don't think you're the type he'll fall for, do you? That's why, even despite the fact that every time he grins at you flirtatiously you grin back like a sheep caught between the crossfire of two gun wielding idiots, you haven't made a move? You haven't offered him the rum ration you win from a game of rummy?"

"Another word of Sturmhond and I will throw the both of us overboard, Mr. Oretsev. Am I understood?"

"You are indeed," Mal said. "I would even say that I understand your words as well as I understand your lovesickness whenever you look at him--Alinas taken to calling him the clever fox because of his hair. You're falling for a ginger. You have a good time with that."

You scoffed, having no intention to make good on your threats to him.

It was true that you'd fallen for the handsome privateer and it was also true that, in direct relation to his treatment of Alina, you never thought he would fall for one of your sort. A privateer and a Grisha wouldn't work and you had no idea why, in the weeks since you were first brought onto the team by Tamar, you'd thought it probably could've.

They were your delusions, though, and because they were your delusions you would learn to live with them just as everyone else learned to live with their own.

Time passed. The civil war was ended in a burst of sun and star and the death of a saint. Nikolai returned to his palaces and found that they felt too empty for his liking.

He couldn't place why, nor what could've been done to fix it, until one day Tamar came into the guards break room smiling, a letter in hand.

"Got a pen pal, do you?" Nikolai asked. At that, Tamar scrunched her nose in his direction and gestured to the plate of biscuits on the center of the table at which they sat. Genya pushed back a curtain to let a bit of light into the room, and begrudgingly, Nikolai grabbed a biscuit.

"Tame your demons today," Tamar said. "We have a trip to make to Ketterdam and I have secured us a place to stay that's not the embassy but will indeed provide more than enough protection in it's place while renovations continue after the oil leak. Nikolai, you remember Y/N, don't you?"

The girl he'd fallen for during the civil war? How could he ever have forgotten.

He'd loved you in silence, in glances to you while you stood and chatted with Zoya and Genya, while you laughed with Tamar and stole pieces of bacon from Tolya in exchange for your rum rations while travelling. The way he'd felt about you had snuck up on him in the days of the civil war, and despite all of his trying, it hadn't gone away since.

"How can he forget her?" Zoya asked. "The amount of loving looks he thinks nobody saw him give her during the war is astounding. Why bring her up?"

"Well, as mentioned, there was an oil leak at the Ravkan Embassy. We needed a place to stay in Ketterdam while we're there on business so I figured I'd reach out to a rumored member of the Council of Tides and see what she could do."

"And what all has she done?" Nikolai asked.

"She lives in a mansion in the merchants district. Six bedrooms and a nice kitchen, good food for the duration of our stay. I asked if she wouldn't mind our company and she said to come whenever."

Zoya smirked and Genya clasped her hands together, a grin adorning her face almost instantly. Nikolais gaze drifted to David, who was watching his wife with a smile of his own.

"I've missed her," Genya said. "I know we'll be there on business but it'll be nice to see an old friend."

Zoya glanced at Nikolai. "Or perhaps reignite an old flame," she said as Tamar wiggled her eyebrows, a giggle befalling her lips as she did.

"A flame that was never ignited in the first place?" Nikolai asked. "Write back to Y/N thanking her for her ability to accommodate us. I will see to it that she is fairly compensated for allowing us to lodge with her if she finds taking time off of work a necessity."

Tamar nodded. "I already wrote a note and sent it along," she said. "Eat breakfast, Nikolai. Your stuff is packed and waiting on the ship. We leave today."

"Ring for tea, will you?" David asked. Nikolai laughed a bit but did Davids bidding, trying to mentally get himself ready to visit the woman he loved but had not seen in too much time to count.

Two weeks came to pass, and Nikolai had found himself approaching your garden, mug of tea in hand, as he couldn't sleep.

The demon took him over when he slept and most nights, while the demon had indeed taken a step back that trip, he didn't like the idea of closing his eyes and letting himself drift off. When Nikolais conscious faded, the demons conscious set in, and he didn't want to know what kind of damage the demon could do to you or the kind of damage you could do to it in the name of self defense.

He flinched when he saw you--you'd hardly interacted in the two days since he, the triumvirate, Tamar and Tolya had come. He was hoping you wouldn't notice him because who, exactly, wants to have their first conversation in several years at three in the morning?

"I heard you making your tea," you said. "Come on out. I've been meaning to talk to you since you first showed up, but I couldn't really find the words to do it."

Nikolai stepped out into the garden, came to sit next to you on a bench made of fabrikator altered obsidian--Nikolai had heard you and Tamar discussing it, and you'd said it was infused with Grisha steel to make sure it lasted as long as possible.

"You work for the Council of Tides, yeah?"

"We're supposed to remain anonymous," you said. "I can't tell you that."

"You worked from eight this morning to midnight. That's sixteen hours."

"And in thanks for covering my coworkers shift, they're covering mine tomorrow. I will be stuck in this house all day long," you said. "I do work for the Council of Tides, for the record, but if you say as much to anyone, I will risk the treason charge and have you hanged. It was an opportunity and I took it because it was that or worry about everything in Ravka. I chose the one less likely to kill me."

"They clearly pay you well enough," he said. "Seven figures, I'd imagine."

"The money I make in a year is enough to have Ravka debt free and the treasury restored within four of them," you said. "It's ridiculous, but I either make good money and live in this mansion and pinch my pennies so that I can make sure I have a good foot to stand on when I sell this place and go somewhere new, or I don't make good money and end up living in the crime districts. I had enough of fighting, of open wounds and of shouting in the streets during the war."

Nikolai nodded. "I don't blame you," he said. "However, if making a donation to Ravka is ever in your cards..."

You laughed. "You are so lucky I find your face kissable rather than punchable. Had I found it punchable I would've done it just then."

Nikolai laughed in turn. "You've been missed around the palaces," he said. "I mean--your absence has been disdained by lots of us."

"Who?" You asked. "I write with the lot of them rather frequently--went to see Alina and Mal just last week with a couple of loaves of bread made by Kerch born bakers! Who's disdained my absence, Mr. Lantsov? Everyone seems to be getting on just fine without me."

"Your absence has been disdain by one person," he said. "Me. I couldn't figure it out for a while but then it clicked and now I just--fuck, I feel stupid."

You laughed. "You could've just said you missed me," you said. "I was barely a presence at the palaces beforehand, but I can indeed understand why you would miss seeing me browsing the books in the library you never went into."

"I was busy!" Nikolai shouted, laughing a bit and startling himself with the volume of his words. "I was busy, Y/N, trying to win a war, and when I wasn't I was indeed watching you look at the books. You always got so focused in the libraries--I've spent my time in your absence reminiscing on it."

You laughed. Nikolai set his cup of tea on the ground.

"I loved you during that time," you said. "I really loved you, Nikolai. Didn't think you'd feel the same."

"I did," Nikolai said. "--I still do, Y/N. I haven't stopped for all of my trying."

You blinked. You'd been trying to move on from the war, all that you felt during it and everything that happened. You'd told yourself you'd only hold onto friendships, onto the good memories that came of the war because those good memories were amazing and they were few and far between, so holding onto them could only make sense rather than letting them go.

You supposed that Nikolai was one of those memories. He was a good memory in spite of all of the yearning, a good memory despite the fact that you'd spent so much of your time drowning in the idea that he could never love you like you loved him.

"Do you love me still?" Nikolai asked. "You said that you loved me then. Do you love me now?"

It had been something you were trying to forget. You didn't want to forget it anymore.

"I do," you said. "I don't think I ever stopped, despite how much I wanted to leave everything behind me."

Nikolai grinned. "May I kiss you?"

And you nodded, and then his lips were on yours and it almost felt as though a piece of your life that had been missing since the end of the war had slid back into it's place.

You loved Nikolai, and Nikolai loved you, and while it wasn't much, it was certainly a start.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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spasmsofthought · 9 months

Text

split open, i'm going down (j.s. x reader)

Warnings: Angst, mention of losing a parent to cancer

The title comes from the song “circle the drain” by Soccer Mommy.

Please excuse any spelling and grammar mistakes and tense changing. Also there are probably some military/Navy inaccuracies if you look for them.

Please give me all your thoughts and feelings. This one wasn’t just for me, it’s for you too. (How do we feel about reconcilation? Is there a way they can get back together? Does Jake deserve it?)

also, I've always pictured Jake's mom as the most wholesome, sweetest human being who would adopt anybody in a second, so.... that seeps through in this part.

Happy Saturday! Enjoy and all my love xo

If you’ve missed the previous installments:

Part 1 / Part 1.5

+++

You softly knock on the apartment door three times.

It’s an intimidating thing, standing here by yourself.

In the times you’d been to Jake’s apartment previously, it had always been with him. You’ve never had to worry about being on the opposite side of the door from him before.

The silence seems to echo your knocks, and you wait a few more seconds to see if the door will swing open on the first go around.

You’re not a very patient person by nature, so waiting for him to come to the door feels like an acute kind of torture. You begin to anxiously roll your ankles as you stand there, fiddling with the item in your hands. You had found it stuffed down in the very bottom of your dirty laundry basket. When the realization came that you needed to give it back (not just to return something lost, but purge it from your life) all you could do was sink down and press your head to the floor, stifling the urge to cry.

You knock again, a little louder this time. You tried texting, but all your texts were left unread and unanswered. You tried calling too, but it went straight to voicemail, and you had figured out enough by then to know not to leave a message. This was the last thing you had wanted to do after the unspoken break-up, but with no way to directly contact Jake to give him the one shirt he had let you keep, you were left with no other option.

You begin to step back to head down the hall, resigning to finding a thrift shop on the way home where you could give the t-shirt away as a donation, right as the doorknob is fiddled with, slightly shaking and rotating, before the door quickly swings open on its hinges.

But it’s not Jake standing in the doorway.

Instead, it’s a middle-aged woman. She has a wide mouth and there are slight crow’s feet around her eyes.

“Oh, hi,” Her eyes slightly widen, you can’t tell if she’s surprised or taken aback, before returning to normal, “How can I help you?”

“Oh, um,” You step forward, just slightly, holding the flimsy piece of fabric out in front of you with one hand, “I came to give this back to Jake. Is he around?”

She smiles softly. “You’re the one he won’t tell me about.”

Your brows furrow but you choose not to answer. The woman tries again.

“You’re the one he’s seeing, and I know he’s been trying to hide it from me. Jake’s always been one to keep things close to his chest when they mean a lot to him.” She smiles softly, her eyes glazing over with memories you can’t see. Her hands finally reach to collect the t-shirt you’ve been holding out to her in your hand.

There’s a violent crack suddenly splitting the heart you’ve spent weeks putting back together into two separate pieces. The jagged edges from the break scrape your throat as the words come out, “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

Your watch unnamed emotions roll over the woman’s face, taking in the tone of your voice and the painful expression probably clearly displayed on your face, and the assumption you reach is that Jake not only didn’t tell her about the relationship, if that’s what it even was, but he obviously hadn’t told her about how you both had split ways either. (Although it’s more like Jake deserted you and you just decided to pack up and try to move on.)

You have to grab her phone from her hand as she's pulling it from her pants pocket before she does something like call Jake,

“Please don’t,” Your voice comes out as firmly as it can, despite the tears gathering in your eyes and down your throat. It feels a little harder to breathe now. You feel exposed, standing in front of her like this.

The woman is staring at you, eyes darting between your face and the phone in your hand.

“I’m really trying my best to leave all of this behind me, and the only reason I came here today is because he won’t answer my texts or calls. I haven’t seen him in weeks, and I really don’t want to see him now. Do you understand?”

You slowly hold out the hand holding this woman’s phone and she tentatively grabs it and puts it in her pocket.

“Oh honey,” Her arms softly wrap around you in a hug.

It takes everything in you to keep from sobbing into her shoulder. You thought you had been making progress and now it just feels like your heart has been ripped open all over again. Coming here was a bad idea It not only resurfaces memories of Jake, it resurfaces memories about your own mom.

She pulls away after a long moment. She has Jake’s eyes and gives you the same kind of warm, safe feeling you felt when your mom hugged you.

“Listen,” She scrambles down the hallway and you avoid looking into the apartment, her voice echoing as you can her rustling around for something. You don’t want to know what has changed or what has stayed the same. You keep your eyes on the ground. “I know you don’t know me. My name’s Sheila, I'm Jake's mom, and this is my number. It may be strange, especially because we never met while you and my Jake were together, but know that you can text or call me if ever you need anything.”

There are ten digits scribbled in pretty cursive writing across a blank piece of paper. You take the paper and hold it in between your fingers for a second before you fold it and put it in the back pocket of your jeans.

Jake never told you about his mom, though you told him plenty about how yours had died from cancer when you were just a teenager.

“Thank you,” You say, your nerves beginning to fray just slightly. “Um, I really just came by to drop off the shirt, so I really should…” You gesture towards the area where the elevators and stairway are.

“Of course, of course,” Shiela's voice grows a little louder and echoes against the hallway walls as you begin to head towards the elevators. “Seriously, text or call if you ever need anything. ”

---

The color of the ocean used to be something you could stare at for hours. You could just watch the still movement of the water passing by from the deck or from any porthole or window available to see through on the various ships you had called home throughout your deployments. By the end of this one, however, you’re ready for a break. You want to go somewhere far away from the color blue, from water, from all of it.

The measly letter he had given to you via your dormmate sits on the small desk in your tiny dorm and collects dust for the rest of your time at sea. You hadn’t wanted to store it with your personal things, which included pictures from your family and letters from Shiela. You assumed she had never told him that you had met her and had stayed in contact with her all these years. And you're not going to mention it now, not to Jake. You don't want to give him another way to try and accomplish whatever it is he's trying to do with you.

The rage you feel towards Jake is what pulls you through the last few weeks on the ship, which pisses you off even more.

After years of only hearing about him via word of mouth, he has the audacity to pull this kind of stunt?

He couldn’t have just left you alone and been on his merry way, far away from you?

You take your time gathering your things before assembling at gangway with all your fellow sailors. The disembarking with its ceremony and process takes some time, but soon enough you're on solid ground after months of being at sea. Getting back your land legs is your least favorite thing after a deployment.

It's not hard to find Jake, not when you know how he looks now. He’s situated towards the edge of the humongous crowd, so you have to struggle and push through the groups of sobbing partners and cheering children and smiling parents to do this. It only riles you up more, hardening your heart and tensing your muscles. Almost like your mind is telling your body: brace for impact.

Your seabag drops onto the pavement with a loud thud, and you let the sound echo as Jake turns around, pulling himself away from a conversation with what looks like a fellow aviator. It’s been years since you’ve been this close to him, but you’re already starting to feel the pull of his magnetic field.

Think of him without forgiveness, is the mantra you’ve been repeating to yourself since you spotted him and started to make the long walk over. You're going to get this over with and then hopefully never see or hear from him again.

He seems a little taller since the last time you saw him, a week before you sat down and wrote that goodbye letter to him in his apartment. But you are taller now, too, and there’s less of a distance to close this time around.

Jake’s face is stoic, but you can tell you’ve piqued his curiosity. You know he assumes that you would rather choose to avoid conflict, that you don’t have the guts; they’re assumptions based on how he knew you before. But he hasn’t been there to see how your time in the Navy has changed and grown you.

“What the hell is this?” You hold the folded piece of paper, with a measly five words written on it, in your hand, waving it around in the air.

The man never claimed to be a poet, but come on.

Jake doesn’t say anything. No confessions of sorrow or repentance. If he had wanted a chance to try and patch things up, smooth things over, this would have been his real opportunity. This would have been his moment to shine. Instead, he says nothing.

His expression doesn’t change, eyes remaining steady on you. Unwavering. If you didn’t know better it would almost look like a perusal of sorts, or maybe like he’s drinking you in.

But you do know better.

You take a few steps closer and despite the raucous noise of the families and friends greeting their loved ones, and the heavy, overwhelming smell of the sea and metal from the ship, a sharpness of longing pierces your heart. A thought of what it would have been like if things had played out differently. If you had been wiser, if you had held on longer.

If Jake hadn’t been such a selfish asshole.

The anger is back, swiped away by something else for a quick second, and it’s the fuel you need to get through the next words coming out of your mouth.

“I don’t want it.” You press the paper hard against his chest, his hand moving to keep it there before it flies away with the wind as you pull your hand away. The breeze pushes against his back while you’re mostly protected from it as you stand in front of him.

You step back and move to turn away, but Jake’s words stop you. “It’s yours.”

It’s been a long time since you’ve heard his voice, longer still since it’s been directed at you.

His voice is weathered, weary. Rough like a piece of worn leather.

You turn back around to him and allow yourself one moment of weakness. Just one.

One long glance at his face, in his eyes.

Jake does look older, despite this idea you had when you were together that he would retain his youthfulness and bachelor lifestyle far beyond what was normal. He looks like he’s carried the weight of the world at least once since he hung you out to dry.

Good, your inner monologue thinks, maybe he’s finally had to grow up a little.

“God, even after all this time, you still refuse to listen to me. I don’t want this,” You scoff and then snort, the outrage escaping you. You don't want to keep it, not when it had mocked you from its space on your desk for the past several weeks. “It’s yours.”

“It’s something you deserved from me a long time ago,” There’s finally a crack forming in his expression. The straight line of his mouth tips down and the space between his eyebrows furrows ever so slightly. You’ve never seen his face take this shape before, so you don’t know what to do with it.

You tried to give yourself a week when you walked out of his apartment for the last time. A week to cry and eat an unlimited amount of dessert and watch bad romcoms and bad thrillers and bad action movies. A week to linger in the damage Jake did to your relationship. A week to watch the part of your heart that had housed him turn to ash and rubble. (It ended up being much longer.)

Then you tried to move on, and you promised yourself you would never cry over him again.

You know you’re going to have to hightail it to an empty space in the next few moments when you feel the hot tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. You cry when you’re sad, but you also cry when you’re angry. You hate it but you can’t help it. You have to blink hard a few times to push them back.

“You don’t know anything about what I deserve,” You take the same steps back toward him that you did just a few minutes ago. It’s always been like this, you moving toward him while he stays in the same place. Even now, when it’s been years and you two are on more level ground, he still waits for you to come to him. “And if you even had the slightest idea, you would know I deserve much more than that.”

You gesture one last time to the pathetic excuse of a letter he gave you via your dormmate that he’s still holding against his chest. And then you turn around, grab your seabag from its place sitting on the cement, and walk away.

#top gun fic rec #hangman fic rec #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fic #hangman angst #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake seresin x oc

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

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What do you think Aemond modern or not moderns favorite ways to touch himself are? 👀 -🌸🧟‍♀️

Ok even though it's the same person I kinda wanna try to break down both canon Aemond and modern!Aemond. NSFW headcanons ahead:

Canon Aemond

When he's not yet betrothed, I don't think he touches himself all that much. He's too busy studying and training that I just don't know that it's in his top priority list of things to do for himself.

And also, because he's grown up seeing Aegon just doing it out in the open and not caring for decorum at all, he must be a little bit repelled to indulge in it himself.

If he gets off, I feel like it might've been the result of a wet dream, and he woke up rutting against the sheets until he came. And then that was that.

Or at night, when he can't sleep, he just jerks off and it's all very straight to the point, with the goal of reaching an orgasm only so he can sleep.

However, when he does have someone he fancies in mind, when he's been betrothed, or after he's been wed, he finds himself fantasizing about his partner a lot, and he can't help but touch himself to the thought of them.

His gaze is glued to them for the majority of the day, observing every single little detail he can use for later.

The first time, he might've let himself get in a comfortable position in bed, actually undressed himself to bask in the soft feeling of his sheets touching his skin, pretending the softness is a substitute to the feeling of his betrothed's skin.

He allows his hands to glide all over his skin, touching himself tentatively and really paying attention to what spots on his body make him shiver.

The hollow of his throat, the underside of his jaw. The inside of his thighs where the skin feels softest, his balls. That one vein that traverses his cock. Everything feels magnified when he truly sets his mind free of any ruckus, and concentrates on feeling.

He might discover he likes to edge himself and elongate that sweetly painful feeling that engulfs his cock, that pulls his balls tight and expands all over his core. And then he becomes addicted to it.

After he trains, he goes straight to prepare himself a bath and he indulges in the scented oils that are at his disposal. He finds that the slick of the oil makes his hand glide up and down his cock all the more deliciously and he finds himself wondering why it took him so damn long to just bask in this.

He thinks that he might get why Aegon literally does this at every hour of every day.

But when he's finally wedded, and finally knows what it's like for his cock to be welcomed inside your warmth, drenched in your slick...he really doesn't feel the need to touch himself anymore when he has you.

Modern!Aemond

I've kinda mentioned in previous general headcanons that, similarily to Aemond in canon, because he grew up with Aegon around, he's overall more private about the whole thing.

Quoting myself (lol) about touching himself, I wrote: He masturbates constantly but I can’t pinpoint what he would get off to? What would his fantasies be? he’d probably be very zen about the whole thing, and instead of having a fantasy running in his head, his mind would go blank and he’d just focus on the sensations all over his body. Focusing instead of playing a game with himself, see for how long he can edge himself to have intense orgasms every time, each one better than the last.

So very similar to canon Aemond. And his sensitive spots are the same as well.

In this case, instead of fancy oils, because he has to keep it all more lowkey and he doesn't want Aegon to find out a whole set of oils in his bedroom and mock him for it, he just invests in nice lube.

I doubt he'd be the kind of guy to get himself toys or be more experimental; he'd be very straightforward in using his hand, and just playing at edging himself for as long as he can.

Maybe he's gotten curious and tried finger fucking himself but found he was too impatient for it and because of some repressed part of him, it has him feeling self conscious. (He'd wait for a partner to come back to this later. Someone who will be patient and will be willing to just focus all their attention on him).

However!! given the revelation from Ewan that Aemond listens to heavy metal, and that he got inspiration from 80's horror movies for him, I'm kinda getting the vibe of what he's fantasies would be like.

Maybe his fantasies would be really cinematic in the sense that, he saw a tit shot in a horror movie, and now he's imagining being in that world, being the scream queen's boyfriend. Or he'd be watching old music videos from his favorite metal bands; those videos usually feature tons of girls in bikinis or clothes that leave nothing to the imagination, so that's also 100% fuel for his fantasies.

Maybe he'd love to just put on his headphones, play his favorite record and close his eyes as he's touching himself, to the rythm of the song. Or imagining very vivid scenarios relating to the song lyrics.

If he has a special someone in mind, he's placing them in the spot of the horror queen, or in the spot of those song-inspired fantasies. He totally transports himself to another world.

When he has a partner, he does find that his need to jack off on his own subsides.

BUT when he does find a partner, maybe he'd enjoy masturbating right next to them.

It'd be on a lazy morning or night, with the two of you feeling too tired to do anything too intense, so you're just basking there in the comfort of your bed, peacefully and languidly touching yourselves as you lay next to one another. It's intimate and relaxing, while you share soft kisses and feel turned on by watching one another play with yourselves.

#🌸🧟‍♀️#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond targaryen hcs #modern!aemond #modern!aemond targaryen headcanons #hotd #house of the dragon #fanfiction #ewan mitchell #my writing

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kanmom51 · 10 months

Text

Jungkook interview in Weverse Magazine

20 July 2023

My suggestion is go and read this.

I won't be talking about everything JK says. Just a couple of little honorary mentions from me.

Before I start, I do have to say that this man is absolutely gorgeous.

It's going to be a very sad day for the y/n fans when they finally realize that JK and JM are off the market and with no other than each other.

This here.

The pressure on his shoulders, trying to reach one of his end goals.

"...and then I can be more open about the real me."

You might think I'm being over melodramatic here, but I can't help it. I'm sitting here reading and re-reading that sentence and tears are just running down my face.

JK has always talked about hiding his true self behind a mask. He's been wanting to show us more of himself, his real self, his true self, trying to do that over the years.

That's why TTU hits so hard at times, especially their last Seoul performances of the song.

That's also why my heart broke when he told us in the Japanese interview for Film out, that he has come to realize that he will always need to wear that mask, that he might never be able to show his real self.

And now, again, he's trying to take steps to be able to show us who he really is.

We have said for ages now that JK wants out of the closet. It's that but it's also more than just his queerness. His queerness is part of who he is as a person, part of his identity, but that is not the only part of himself he is hiding from us, and his need to be out of the closet coincides with his need to stop masking himself (an interesting term that I am not using in vain here).

Next point I wanted to bring attention to:

That there folks. I literally just mentioned this in my last post. JK is the artist, he does the art. He has others, professionals in their own fields, that do the business side of things, which includes the promotions.

"I'm a dancer and a singer - I don't know about every single aspect of the business". And he is not only talking about the styling or the concepts here.

It's about what your goals are as an artist. What each and every one of the members goals are, and JK, his goal is this:

He wants out of Korea, I've said this once, I've said it a thousand times.

This photo here I found interesting:

Is this JK grainy, unclear, waiting to clear up, for us to see him clearly, his real self? Or is that just me bullshitting? Lol.

Other than that, did you notice the black and white theme going on?

JK acknowledging the change that we all saw in him since his Feb 23 lives.

Kind of also confirms what we've been talking about. JK is a smart young man and he knows what he's doing. The spoilers, the choices of words of songs during the lives, the JM promoting, not by chance and not done without thought.

And here we go again.

Weren't we talking about that JM.

Clear. Upfront. Bold. Emphasized.

Go read the full interview!

#Jungkook #JK #JK Seven #JK Weverse

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 9 months

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I love to see my biases get the BB 1s, but when one starts making that their goal, hmm that kind of disconnects me from them as an artist.

I won't say more. I just wish artists I stan placed more focus on the art. Let charts happen naturally.

You're blog isn't like the blind fandom, so I am saying this here.

It's not hard to see through things. Chapter 2 has been interesting so far. I am not making any opinions based of things that are happening, but if it becomes a pattern with the artist, well... that's a problem.

Anon, we both know who were're talking about, lol. I'm gonna use the names, for the sake of making it easier for me to write a response.

A few weeks ago, I was watching this documentary about Wham. Some light entertainment for me initially, but it did offer me the chance for a fresh perspective. I don't exactly remember the details, but they've reached a point in which George Michael wanted to have 4 songs to reach number 1 on some chart, the fourth being Last Christmas. He was a bit obsessed with this and he also wanted to be a bigger artist. In later archival interviews, Michael actually mentions it was his ego as an artist because he knew he could. And he did, he outgrew the boyish band and the situation was almost ideal because Andrew, his bandmate, also knew that. It also meant getting away from their carefully constructed image, the object of desire for teenagers and women everywhere. For George, it was also about stepping away from performing a specific type of heteronormativity that can be found in boy bands. It never crossed my mind while watching it that his ego is too big, or why is he so obsessed with the charts. Maybe because it was all in the past and I've seen what the future would hold for him. Or that when I heard him talk about what he wants to achieve and his inner struggle, there was sincerity there and also that drive that only someone really young can have when they believe they can do anything.

I've read Jungkook's Weverse interview and listened to what he had to say during the Seven promotions. And while there may be some comparisons to be made to how George Michael came across when talking about his musical career, there were also some differences.

I'm glad to see Jungkook being more confident. I remember some of the things he used to say in the past, about his self worth, a lack of confidence and meaning outside the group. That wasn't healthy. And to hear him now, especially on Suchwita, it's a 180° change. But in his case, there's a very fine line between being confident and becoming cocky. And that's not a good look. It's almost like he's trying to project an image of a new Jungkook but one that is still in the works and not all parts fit perfectly together. He's going through a transformation ever since the hiatus, which I expected. It was about having to adapt to a different pace, life after 10 years of being part of a group. Jungkook was always trying to find his identity and this single is only one step in that journey.

But that doesn't mean that I as a fan and as a person, have to like it. If it doesn't match with what I'm looking for in the artists that I'm interested in, then so be it. I will talk about it, but I'll also not follow that person's musical career anymore. If I don't like the artistic direction and I don't like this overconfident, slighly exaggerated bravado, then that's it.

It's also impossible to not make a comparison to Jimin. Not for some dick measuring contest (it's what pjms and jjks are doing), but because there is room and justification for it. Both are from the same kpop group, both have embarked on a solo career and both chose a more mainstream pop music, as opposed to their older bandmates. And both got that BB 1. And what we can compare is song quality, artist reaction and how the company's response came across into fan spaces.

In terms of the songs, I could write entire essays because at the end of the day, it wouldn't matter. It's all subjective. There is no rule that says a number one song should be about some personal experience, or the singer should have writing credits on it. And I also can't take away my subjectivity. I will chose Like Crazy over a song that not only sounds like a Bieber tune from years ago, but also has lyrics as if they were written by the boys from Larry Clark's Kids.

As to the reaction, Jimin did exactly what I expected him to do. He was humble, grateful and emotional and we saw that when he turned on the livestream. It's what makes him who he is and how he always behaves. As opposed to that, Jungkook wanted to be appear cool. And for what? Especially when later he said how excited he actually was but he refrained from expressing that. Where's the authenticity that he seeks so much through his livestreams? Because he released a song about sex for which he never officially performed live the explicit version, that means that the attitude should match that? I know the next day he was live and he was really nice. But that entire event is tainted in my mind with this almost expectation and confidence that he'll get that no. 1 and after he got the western validation, they decided to remember there's fans at home too and went to Inkigayo.

Which leads me to the last point that shows the obvious bias and preference that cannot simply be denied when it comes to BH. It's even more obvious because the entire BTS brand was that there are no favorites, which is not the same strategy as with other companies and groups. And now, all of a sudden, there is. It's great that BH celebrates an artist's success and they can immediately put on a show. But it doesn't justify how the first one to have the achievement was ignored. I have to admit, I was happy when Jimin got his no. 1 because I thought it only meant more promotions, more Jimin, more of everything. Just to be left utterly confused.

I've put that all in the past and I really try not to get too emotionally involved because as an individual, it has no bearing on my personal life and it doesn't have that many negative effects on my fan engagement.

I side eye Jungkook for how he presents himself in official promotions, but then he goes live and all of a sudden, it's the Jungkook that I'm used to. The guy who is a dork and funny and grateful to his fans. The one who cries hearing fan songs and who still beats himself up for hours because he messed up a song. I do criticize some of his actions and statements, but I'm not slandering him. The guy seems like a genuinely nice person and I still like him. He's still one of my biases for many reasons. But me having this reaction to content catered specifically for fans to create a more intimate connection is something BH was always good at. We only have to look at all the BTS footage out there. They've perfected the way in which personality comes first a lot of the times. It's what draws fans in (aside from music) and what keeps them interested. I'm part of that.

I'm convinced that it's most likely that a Jungkook fan or army or whoever disagrees with me, will read all this and believe I hate Jungkook. Which would be a shame because all I'm trying to do is explain how complex this situation is. It's never as black and white as solo stans would like everyone to believe and it's not a debate that can be generalized and tossed aside as solo talk by the ot7 chorus. I'm sure there are a lot of reasonable people in this fandom still who are able to have more than one thought in their head and see that only through a naunced discussion we can look at facts, see what's an exaggeration and what's false. To be able to distinguish between facts and personal opinion and also to admit that. That's not possible if we're not looking at these people as complex beings, instead of victims and villains.

#m thoughts #jimin #jungkook #bts solo careers

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candied-boys · 7 months

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Another - Rio x F! Reader Part 3

When Emma chooses another, Rio has to go home without her... But there's more awaiting him than just forgotten memories...

Themes: hurt and healing, facing the past, learning to love again, aka angst with a happy ending!

Warnings: angst, Rio route spoilers, eventual smut, written from Rio's POV

Part 2

Not only did you not love her, you treated her so unkindly that she’s visibly nervous around you, and you dragged her into your most heinous act. She should despise you as much or more than you despise yourself, and yet all you can sense from her is a heartbroken desire to be accepted.

In your self-centred ways, you've neglected the one question you ought to have asked from the start.

“Did you… ever… love me?”

You can't bring yourself to meet her gaze, choosing to linger instead on the golden petals before you.

“I still do… very much…”

The crack in her tender voice tells you what awaits should you dare to seek her eyes. Coward that you are, you don't.

“Why? I'm a terrible person. I'm distrustful, hateful, vengeful, rude, scheming, and selfish. I'm basically a murderer. What ever did I do to attract you?”

A sniffly giggle chimes in the breeze, one more refined and elegant than that of her daughter, but unmistakably the same.

“What's so funny?” you ask, finally turning your gaze back to her.

“You've become much more self-aware over the last three years. You never would have admitted such things before — though they're all true.”

“So, you agree then? I'm awful. There's nothing about me worth loving.”

“On the contrary, what you mentioned has never been anything but reasons for me to love you more.”

“What are you talking about? Have you hit your head as badly as I have?” you find yourself asking seriously as you reach for her shoulders and turn her to face you.

A little startled she blinks nervously at you before glancing at your grip on either side.

“Uh, my apologies. Do continue… if you please,” you mutter and drop your arms, returning to fiddling with the daffodil.

“Well… I suppose it sounds ridiculous the way I phrased it, but… I believe the only reason you ever lashed out or let such dark feelings taint your heart was to mask the pain… When everything you've ever cherished has been taken from you, there's nothing left to lose… Truly, I believe you've never been anything but kind and caring deep down.”

Thoughts you're certain you've never told a soul. Memories branded on your heart in places you try to hide even from yourself. Fears and motivations you didn't understand until you were forced to face them when Silvio abruptly appeared a month ago.

Answering the shocked query of your brows, she declares with scorn, “I am your wife, Your Highness. How could I not know? Do you think I’ve been spending my days at court simply watching the sea roll in and out? What do you think Her Majesty and I spoke of all these years I've been Her attendant? To whom do you imagine I have been paying attention if not my betrothed?”

The pain that lapped at her eyes mere seconds ago has turned into surging waves of indignation, yet you can't resist the smile that washes over your features in response. At the same moment, your daughter comes running back, no flowers to be found, only insistent demands for ‘up’.

Bringing her into your arms you tell the little girl, “You know, bambina, your mother is a very perceptive woman. I don't think you or I will get away with much of anything as long as she has her eye on us.”

A bashfully averted gaze is all you catch before you rise and suggest continuing the walk through the rest of the gardens.

Little did you know that afternoon would be the first and last chance you would have to play freely with your daughter for quite some time. Royal duties, politics, visits, and excursions quickly submerged you from dawn ‘til dark thereafter. Though you may be able to get three times as much work done in a day as anyone else, you cannot - despite your best efforts - make meetings with others end thrice as quick.

The first few days after that you had tried to visit Valerie, but found she had already been tucked in for the night. Afraid of waking her with candlelight you didn't ask to see her in spite of the unfamiliar longing that nagged at you. By the second week you had come to accept that the life you'd forgotten had always been soaked with futility.

The only one usually still awake by the time you finish is your mother. Grateful for whatever time you can spend by her side, you visit every night. Weeks pass talking about your childhood memories, her life after you disappeared, the woman and child you left behind, your experience abroad, and eventually the heartache you brought home.

“Mother, I can't help but wonder… why am I the only one who married? Isn't it improper for a younger sibling to marry before the eldest? What happened? Why would father marry me off first when there's no clear political advantage?”

“Valerio… you were the one who wanted to be married. You fought with me, pleaded with me to let you wed…”

Memories billow with a sudden gust of old fears. You had always been afraid the next attempt on her life could be the last, so you had asked your mother to set you up with someone she liked. You had wanted to give her peace of mind that you would be taken care of. Most of all, the thought of not having her blessing on your wedding day had been unbearable.

“I tried to convince you to marry for love; begged you not to put yourself in the same position as your father — a wife unloved and a mistress cherished. You balked at the idea of ever repeating his mistakes and promised me that you would stay loyal to whomever I selected.”

How naive a heart that has yet to know love can be. Never had you imagined yourself capable of the powerful emotions now buried within. You had genuinely believed that, simply because you did not disdain the maiden she recommended, you liked her.

From there you had assumed a thing called love would blossom. However, you belatedly understand that because you had simply believed tolerance to be the limit of your affections, you made no further effort to deepen the connection.

Part four

🧡🫣🧡Tag list: @drachonia @outtayourmouth @maries-gallery @lamiefromage @tele86 @queengiuliettafirstlady

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri rio #rio ortiz #ikemen prince rio #ikemen prince rio ortiz #ikemen rio #ikepri fanfic

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totkdaily · 1 month

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Day 80: Visions, and Friends Aplenty

It takes until morning, but I find the tear in the geoglyph on the hill above Lake Hyrule.

A vision. I see...

Ancient Hylians in darkness. Rauru at Sonia's grave. This is after that moment at the Blood Moon, then. The Demon King has risen, and they are at war.

Zelda visits the King. Her worry is plain on her face.

She mentions Ganondorf - that name. I'm struggling to understand her meaning - she says a secret stone did something to Ganondorf, whoever that is. But… Zelda's words suggest that Ganondorf, the Demon King and the creature below the castle are one and the same. I knew I was right about the Demon King and the creature. But who is Ganondorf? Is that who the Demon King was before?

I piece the visions together in my mind with difficulty - it's been months. But the man who became the Demon King - I've seen him before. He led the Gerudo when they tried to attack Hyrule. Is that Ganondorf? The name… I can only hope the connection to Calamity Ganon is a cruel accident.

Zelda is at the point of despair. My heart aches for her. Rauru dismisses her concerns, though he acknowledges that its his hubris that got them here. Why won't he listen to her? My Zelda.

I need to know more. I think there are four geoglyphs I haven't yet found. Which is easiest to reach? There should be one north east of Lookout Landing, if my map-making is any good. Could I spot it from the tower?

I land briefly on Hyrule Castle itself - there's a shrine. But no geoglyph I can see. Alright, plan B. I head to Tabantha Bridge Stable and from there south.

I scale a flat rock to get a better view - but I suddenly realise it's beneath my feet! And there's a balloon at the far end - Impa's here! She and Cado are right near the tear.

A vision. I see...

A pagoda by a lakeside. Zelda, Sonia and Rauru are taking tea - tears spring to my eyes as I see Zelda at peace, at rest.

Her eyes sparkle, as she talks of our time, or her powers, of me. Zelda. She wants to be able to have all the powers at her disposal - Sonia encourages her pursuit but points out that her own talents are far from insignificant. I am sorry that Sonia died. I am glad that Zelda knew her kindness for a time.

Every path I take leads to an empty pool, with Zelda no closer. Still, I must try.

I travel back to Central Hyrule, intending to head south by the towers to the Gerudo region - I think there is a geoglyph in the Highlands there.

Running across Hyrule Field feels like the old days. But then I hear voices - it's Hoz's crew! Looks like they're going monster hunting - I gear up and join them.

Hoz is grateful once we clear out the camp - I even get paid! He says they're heading to Fort Hateno next, and wonders about my sword - he's heard something of the Master Sword.

I'd almost forgotten about it. It's been in only one of my visions. Zelda must not have received it until after the Imprisoning War. What did she do with it then? But it was broken anyway. The time of the sword is over.

I gather the useful monster parts Hoz and his crew left behind, and look around for the tower I was aiming for - but then I spot the familiar purple light of Kilton's shop - now Koltin's - and before I know it I'm sprinting across the field in the dark to catch him. I must have so many gems since I last saw him.

Well, I have seven. But it's enough for him to give me a pair of trousers.

He's parked right outside Lookout Landing, so I run back and fetch a horse from Lester - Pumpkin will do well for this adventure, I think.

#totkdaily #day 80 #another big day - two visions a monster crew trip and Koltin!#totk #loz #zelda #legend of zelda

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georgiesgirl1223 · 7 months

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Unearthed Secrets

Professor Lupin and female student reader (of age 16-17)

This is meant to be part of a bigger story but I just had this in my head and had to get it out. Also this is the first thing I've been able to write in nearly 4 years so I'm a little rusty and I apologize. I also didn't proof read.

This is when the reader finds out Lupin's big secret.

Warnings: mentions of blood, being naked, slight hints at sex

Word Count: 3256

It was the night after the full moon when Remus Lupin stumbled out of the of the tunnel leading from the Shrieking Shack and onto the dewy grounds of Hogwarts. It was a cool autumn evening and a light rain had begun to fall as he treaded his way, limping and sore, past the Forbidden Forest and up stone steps into Hogwarts Castle. The great wooden door creaked as he slowly opened it enough for him to slip inside. A draft smelling of old books and burning torches swept over his worn and scarred face as entered, inhaling deeply at the familiar scent and he knew he was almost home. Just a little further down into the dungeon where he preferred his chambers to be, and he would be in the welcome solitude of his sanctuary. All he wanted was a hot shower to wash the dried blood and dirt off his toned but battered body and then to fall into bed and fall into the coma like sleep both his body and mind needed. He needed to forget, wipe away the debauchery of the previous night from his brain. The fighting, the endless unquenchable hunger, the battle to just survive took its toll on his body, mind and soul each month and he just wanted to lock himself away to forget.

Remus had disappeared for three days, hiding himself away from the students and professors of Hogwarts, not only to prepare himself for the eventual change that always came, but to keep his dirty shameful secret, the secret that only few knew, that he was a werewolf. Remus knew that the parents and school governors alike would not appreciate a werewolf teaching their children. He couldn’t fathom that anyone would accept him for who he truly was so Remus decided to hide away, especially during those times close to the full moon when he knew he was the most on edge. This is how he lived his life, in solitude, alone, withdrawn from others around him and not letting anyone in, well almost anyone.

After descending several flights of stone staircases Remus had at long last reached his oak chamber door. Cautiously he opened the door, not wanting to alert anyone of his presence, and stepped inside feeling a warmth and glow he did not expect. Closing the bedroom door behind him he looked around searching for the source of the warmness. Glancing Remus noticed there were several candles lit casting soft shadows and a crackling fire already lit in the large stone hearth. Then his gaze fell onto her wrapped in one of his oversized cardigans and curled up in the middle of his cozy, plush, kind sized four poster bed.

Remus knew it was wrong, starting a relationship with a student even if she was of age, but he couldn’t help himself. Her shy affectionate glances she gave him, the warm smiles she gave him, the mischievous but tender glints in her eyes, it melted his heart and softened his demeanor. It began as harmless flirtations shared between the two, then it turned into private defense lessons with soft slight touches and shared jokes. The more time Remus spent with her the more he could feel his resolve fading. Then one night he found himself alone in this very room with her and that’s when it happened. His lips found hers in a shy unknowing kiss, looking deep into her eyes for approval as she leaned into him. The next kiss was more passionate, deeper and raw with emotion. He pulled her small frame into his towering one, snaking one arm around her waist with the other cupping her cheek. Their shared affection and devotion becoming more evident with each passing moment. From that night on she often snuck down to his chamber to spend the night together. They would spend their time talking into the early hours of the morning about everything and nothing, or him holding her in his strong arms with her head on his chest as he read to her. Remus didn’t want to push anything with her, respected and cared for her far too much to press the issue of sex. He knew when she was ready, she would come to him. But it didn’t matter to him, she meant the world to him, and he was perfectly happy spending these shared nights together, forming a deeper type of intimacy.

Now he stood staring at her curled all alone in his bed and as he stepped closer guilt ripped at his insides. Remus noticed her tear-stained face and the discarded tissues strewn about the bedside. He didn’t tell her that he was leaving, wanted to protect her from who he was, wanting to keep this tryst going for as long as he could without having to reveal his deepest darkest secret. She had no clue where he had gone, if he had left the school or if he had left her, no clue if he was even coming back, but here she was waiting for his return all the same. Remus reached out a hand and gently ran it down her soft wet cheek making her stir and quietly call out his name not even knowing if he was there.

“Remus” she softly hummed in her sleepy state.

“It’s me puppy, I’m right here” he whispers as he sat down on the bed.

Smiling at the loving nickname he had given her (because she always looked up at him with puppy dog eyes), she reached out for him, silently praying that this was not another dream but that he was truly there this time. Reaching out she found his hand and their fingers instantly entangle as she gently flitted her eyes open. Love and tenderness were all Remus saw as he looked down into her eyes, a look he mirrored back to her. As she sat up in bed the candlelight flickered, and she was now able to see the state he was in, and concern was instantaneous on her face. She noticed his wet, torn and bloodstained shirt, the bags under his eyes and the tired bloodshot look in his eyes.

“Remy” she questioned, raised her hand to gently push the sweaty matted hair from his eyes.

“What happened?” He fingertips lightly brushed over the deep bloodied gash on his cheek.

Remus looked down clearly ashamed and unable to meet her tender gaze.

She stiffened a little but kept her calm and caring composure. “Remus, if something has happened, if there is someone else, you can tell me.” She grabbed both his hands in hers. “Whatever it is we can work through this together, just be honest with me please”.

His heart sank even lower at the remark that she thought that there could be anyone else but her. Squeezing her hands in his and looking up forcing himself to meet her loving gaze he opened his mouth to speak.

“Puppy, darling there is something I need to tell you. Something that I have been keeping from you.” Remus tried to reposition himself and she noticed him wince in pain. “There is nobody else pup, but there is something I need to get off my chest and you’re the only person I trust telling now.”

Noticing him grimace in pain again she placed a delicate kiss to his lips to quiet him. “You can tell me everything later, right now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Remus just nodded, appreciation and shock written on his face as he allowed her to lead him into the bathroom and lean him against the counter as she began to draw him a hot bath in the large clawfoot tub placed in the center of the room. He watched her in awe as she took care of him, not questioning him not pressing the issue, she was there simply because she cared, maybe even loved him. Lighting more candles and turning off the water she walked over to him and with slow nimble fingers began to unbutton his ripped shirt, pulling it off his sticky sweaty skin and exposing both his large muscular form but all his scars and scratches all over his back and chest and she let out a muffled gasp. Stepping back from him he bit her lip and darted her eyes on the floor as a slight flush rushed into her cheeks. They had never seen each other naked before and although this was going to be the first-time seeing Remus without clothes this felt different. This was intimate, passionate but not sexual in any way. She admired his form as he undressed and lowered himself into the steaming hot water, hissing as the heat stung at his open wounds. His head lulled back as his worn eyes met hers. Slowly she removed the cardigan of his she was wearing, revealing the bra and underwear she wore beneath before she nervously and timidly removed the two items of silken lacey clothing. Remus cherished every move that she made but trying to be respectful of her shyness at the same time. Standing in front of him exposed and defenseless in the steamy candlelit warmth she felt revered, cherished, admired. Feeling more confident she tiptoed over to the tub and immersed herself into the water behind him, wrapping her legs around his torso. Reaching for a washcloth she dabbed at his bloodied back, washing his fresh wounds and placing soft kisses across his back over his healed scars. She took her time, letting him relax into her touch and making sure to cleanse every wound. After addressing each injury, she discarded the red stained cloth, washing his hair, rubbing his shoulders and allowing him to melt into her.

Remus felt every muscle in his body relax instantly under her touch, every wound seeming magically healed under her caress. He never had this is his life, someone that cared for him, took care of him, someone he admired, adored and trusted. It was at this moment, consumed by her actions that he realized his true feelings for her. He was in love, an emotion he had tried to avoid for most of his life. He was always enamored with her since the day she had stepped foot in his class, but now as she sat there, attending to him with no questions asked he was utterly captivated. That was also the moment when guilt punched him in the stomach once again. Remus did all he could to push the anguish from his conscience. If only for this tiny moment, just to allow himself to savor every moment, memorizing this time with you because after what he must tell you, it could be the last. He wanted to engrave every feather touch, every gentle kiss, every adoring look you gave him into his brain. He wanted this moment to last forever, but alas it was fleeting just like all the others.

As she sat there with her limbs wrapped around him, her head laying on his back, the soft rattle of his breath reverberating through her body, she was certain that she would do anything for this man. This man exerts a calming reassurance whenever she was with him, and she knew he would never intentionally hurt her. Although his secretive nature and disappearance irked her, she trusted him implicitly and knew he will tell him what she needed to know when he was ready.

Taking a deep breath and steeling himself for what was about to come, he abruptly stood and stepped out of the cooling water, wrapping a towel around his hips. She looked up at him as he offered her his hand, pulling her out and engulfing her in a fluffy towel and pulled her into his chest. Remus enveloped her small frame in his strong arms and pressed his rough lips to her forehead, inhaling deeply before pulling away and dressing himself in lounge pants and a t-shirt. While doing so he respectfully turned his back, allowing her some privacy to redress into her silken lace undergarments and his oversized cardigan. Stepping out into his bedroom the air was heavy with silence and a twinge of awkwardness. They walked over to the four poster and sat down as she turned to face him, cradling his calloused hands in hers.

“Remus, you know you can tell me anything right?” She asked, caressing his palms with her thumbs.

He glanced at her, tears welling in his eyes as he stood and paced the room, absentmindedly running his hands though his hair. Pausing to take a deep breath he blurted out “I’m a werewolf.” The words stumbled out of his mouth like an incoherent jumble. Remus looked at her now, pleading “I’m so sorry darling, I’m a werewolf.” Anxiety now took over as he continued to pace the room, rambling as he told his story. “I was four when it happened. I was with my father who worked at the ministry when a convicted lycanthrope was attempting escape, and I was just a small boy who happened to be in the way.” Remus was beginning to become agitated, clearly projecting the loathing he felt towards himself, a loathing he assumed you developed towards him. He continued to recall his story, speaking more animatedly and waving his hands in frustrations. “From that point my friends and family became wary of me, and my parents did all they could to try and find a cure but to no avail. Their efforts were futile and when they realized I would forever be a lycanthrope they abandoned me. I was just a child trying to scavenge to survive and navigate this new life, a life alone. That is when a came across a pack of werewolves and they adopted me as one of their own.”

Tears silently streamed down her face as she listened to him tell his story, revealing his deepest secrets. She felt nothing but love and empathy for the man before her. Though complicated and dangerous this world, his world may be, it did not change her feelings toward him. In fact, she felt closer to him than ever before. They had shared so much during their many all-night talks, but this was one subject, their childhoods, neither of them ever brought up. Hearing about his plight and how his parents abandoned him, she felt remorse.

Not daring to look at her, not wanting to see the contempt he believed was written across her face he crossed the room and sat in a plush armchair opposite the bed. He hung his head in his hands as the hot tears of same and guilt began to fall. “I’m so sorry pup. I never meant for you to be a part of this. I never wanted you to be a part of this world of this dark side of my life.” He began to sob, catching his breath as he went on. “I’ve never let anyone into my life before, not like this. And then you came into my life. You walked into my classroom like a ray of sunshine, of hope. I was completely smitten with you from day one and as we grew closer, my affections for you flourished as well. I knew I shouldn’t, but I let my guard down, I permitted myself to let you in, to become close, devoted, attached. Now all I have done is put you in danger. Darling, if anything ever happened to you, especially at my hand, I don’t know what I’d do, I’d probably die.” Heaving through continued sobs he glanced at his bare feet, unable to even look up at you. He knew it would only make it worse if he looked up and saw the pained disgust of the reaction, he assumes you have. “You probably hate me now and I wouldn’t blame you if you did, I hate me right now. I just need to tell you one more thing, I love you puppy, and I always will. But I think you should leave, I don’t know if I can trust myself around you, I don’t want you to get hurt.” Taking a deep breath, he heaved a great sigh as a pained relief washed over him. Remus no longer harbored any secrets from you. He was now an open book to you, vulnerable to any of your prodding. Looking up, tears still streaming down his cheeks, he was finally able to meet your eyes. He was unable to read her expression as she wiped her own tears on the cuff of his cardigan.

Silently she stood, and his heart sank, believing that she was about to walk out forever. To his amazement she stepped over to him, running her hands along his shoulders she sat down on his lap. Looking deep into his eyes she wiped away his tears, her touch soft and gentle. Shock and incomprehension swirled in his brain as he stared back at her. She delicately brushed her lips against his before pulling back and lightly running her fingers down his cheek, never losing eye contact. “I love you too Remy.” Her words although only a whisper rang in his ears as he tried to grasp what he had just heard. Noticing the disbelief etched on his face she repeated “I love you Remy, and I’m not going anywhere. You may not trust yourself, but I trust you and that’s all that matters.

“I love you so much puppy. I’m so sorry and I hope that one day I can earn your forgiveness, not just for keeping this secret but for putting you in danger.”

“Remus, there is nothing to forgive. I am grateful that you told me, but I also know that you would have told me in your own time. And as for you putting me in danger, I feel safe with you Remy and I know that you would never intentionally put me in harms way.”

There was nothing to say, how could you be so forgiving and understanding of his condition. How was he so lucky to find you. What did he do right in his life to be so deserving of your unconditional love and adoration. There was nothing but that comfortable silence that you two so often shared. It was back as if nothing had changed between the two of you. He wrapped one arm around your waist, peering into your soul as his fingertips brushed the hair from your face, tracing down your delicate features before cupping your cheek. It was instantaneous, his lips crashed onto hers, delicate yet hungry his tongue explored hers in the passionate embrace he thought he would never experience again. Time seemed to have stood still as the embrace continued, their lips never parting, their hands ever roaming. Panting they pulled away, Remus placing one last tender kiss to her swollen lips before resting his forehead against hers.

“Remy?” she asked shyly, her voice barely audible.

“Yes pup?’“I think I’m ready, I know I’m ready. I love you Remy and I want to be with you.” The words came out in a shaky breath as she fiddled nervously with the collar of his shirt. Biting her lip, she looked up only to be met with his intense loving gaze. She wanted him, wanted him like she never wanted any man before. But before she could be with him, give herself fully, surrender herself wholly, mind, body and soul, she needed to reveal her deepest secret to him.

#harry potter universe #harry potter fanfiction #remus x reader #remus lupin #remis lupin #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin fluff

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mygeekcorner · 9 months

Note

Fine I'll give you some more book asks since you acted all pathetic and reblogged it again and begged for more: 18, 25, 30, 42, 43, 50, 51, 55, 61, 67, 68, 80, 86, 99, 100, 102 (lol), 104, 117, 118, 124. Also you must answer them all in one sitting (no drafting) otherwise the curse of the procrastinating tumblrina will fall upon you

Hahahaha omg yes, brilliant, love it, love you

18 your least favorite book ever

I mean there have been a fair few bad choices I've picked up along the way. But that I actually finished?

I really do think it might have been Twilight. Granted I did go in expecting to hate it, but it still managed to be blander and worse than I thought it had any right to be for a series with such devoted following.

25 a book by your favourite author

I said this in another answer but I don't really have favourite authors like that anymore. There are many good authours out there and I will read a series or two but I don't go looking for their names like I used to. But so far I guess Erin Morgenstern is a 2 for 2 author with very beautiful prose in both The Night Circus and The Starless Sea

30 your favourite middle grade book

So I've already talked about Narnia, HP, and my love for Eva Ibbotson but that was pretty much what I read back then. So I'll just mention Which Witch? by Eva Ibbotson as well. I don't remember many details from it, but I do remember that I laughed my way through it, which is never a bad thing.

42 a book that made you want to scream by the time you got to the end

I remember A Storm of Swords by George RR Martin made me call you and scream at your answering machine lol

It was bad enough that the Red Wedding happened, but then right after we've seen the massacre the next chapter is from Aryas point of view again and it's her and Sandor reaching Riverrun and she is So Close to being with her family again, to being safe. But he is mean and harsh and won't let her run off and if I remember correctly he takes out his fucking axe and hits her in the head with it. And that's how the chapter ends???

I mean obviosuly he hit her with the blunt side and only enough to knock her out, but we have Just Seen how you can't trust anyone, and then she's with this big mean killing machine who she doesn't get along with, and he hits her with an axe??? Fuck man! Rude-ass bitch is what Martin is. But what else is new, you know?

43 a book that you have read more than three times

Harry Potter. And yes, I am well aware about how much we're all hating on Rowling now, please don't misunderstand me. But I had read the first 3 books over 30 times before the series finished. I used to re-read them about once a year. There is not a single book that even comes close to the amount of times I've read them. No, not even Narnia.

50 a book that made you cry a LOT

The Glass Lake by Maeve Binchy fucking wrecked me when I read it in high school. Like it is off to a pretty grim start with a mother leaving her family and them thinking she killed herself as is, but then it gets even More emotional. I remember this one chapter that just left me sitting there shellshocked for the better part of an hour, those of you who have read it will know when.

51 a book that you found underwhelming

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I know! I'm sorry! I love the movie and bbc miniseries as much as the next hopeless romantic but the book just kind of... didn't live up to it? Reading it you can kind of tell that it is her first novel and certain things are a bit rushed and clumsy. I still enjoyed it, but I was expecting to love it, you know?

55 a book with a satisfying ending

Chronicles of Narnia: The Last Battle. Them dying just felt right to me. Not that I wanted them to die-die of course, but the way that it happens? Yes. It all came full circle and I always found a certain comfort in the way he let them die and stay dead (to our world).

None of this rising from the dead bullshit. Just tell a good story and wrap it up like a neat little bodybag. Only cowards let protagonists rise from the dead. Looking at you JK, yes even when I first read the book.

61 your favourite horror novel

Ok so reminiscing on books I read as a kid has me thinking, one of the books that really had me Scared for real when reading was probably The Witches by Roald Dahl. And like yes, I know, it's a childrens book. But it's a Scary childrens book. And I was a Child. I just remember the horror as he found out he was stuck in a hotel infested with child-eating witches *shudder*

67 your favourite historical fiction novel

Rhett Butler's People by Donald McCaig, I really enjoyed Gone With The Wind, but this published fanfic/spinoff/prequel to that is just so good. It made me care for the characters in a whole new light all over again. And he always was my favourite out of all the original cast so it was nice to have some more ideas about what he had done before Scarlet threw that first vase at him.

68 your favourite piece of classic literature

Can I say Shakespeare here or did it have to be written as books-books? I'm deciding books-books is the premise so I guess I'm putting down Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë. I don't like the ending, but after the book mentioned in #86 a bit further down it is better now. And I think it's the classic I've come back to the most so...

80 a book that reminds you of a loved one

The Demon's Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan that @hobbitsus lent me in high school was just a blast to read and I remember it fondly. And the whole story is just so very Her from when we were growing up which adds to the love.

86 a book with an insane plot twist

The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde. Yes again with me bringing in published fanfic of classic works but the whole premise is so good! There are people who can jump into books? There is someone who manages to jump into an original manuscript, thus changing all the copies of the book? There are detectives working on putting the original Jeyen Eyre back into order when this happens to her? And that is the reason the book ends the way it does??? Amazing.

I never quite liked the ending in Jane Eyre, there is this bit that just seems to come out of nowhere to me. In this book? It's because Detective Thursday was there doing whatever she wanted. This fanfic makes the original work better. But the way it twists to do so? 11/10

99 a book with a strong female protagonist

The Deed of Paksenarrion by Elizabeth Moon gives us all that Girl power Asexuality Forge your own path representation and I am here for it. Does the last book feel like the same series as the first book? Not even slightly. But the books are still a fun ride and I recommend anyone wanting to read about a farmer's daughter running away to join the army and then being actually good at her job give it a try.

100 your favourite gothic novel

ok so in like my mind Gothic should be Old. Old as balls. But I will also admit to Wanting to read books that old more than I Actually read them. So I will be cringe enough to just go with Interview With The Vampire by Anne Rice cause that's the book I loved in high school and the internet lets me classify it as goth even if it doesn't feel right

102 your favourite dark academia read

What even counts as Dark Academia though??? I feel like it should be an ancient and heavy-ass tome but most things I read are quite modern? Can I say The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley? Like the book took up a good part of my backpack when I read it in school, that should count for something right?

I liked the way it spanned three generations' worth of stories and all the mysticism going on. It was my first Arthurian fiction as well which felt very Big and Impressive at the time.

104 a fluffy, sweet read

A Hundred Pieces Of Me by Lucy Dillon was a really comforting and nice read that I liked way more than I thought I would when it comes to chick lit. I think of that book whenever I try to pick out a vase now lol

117 your favourite anthology

So do we count fairy tales here or no? Cause I kind of want to say Bland Tomtar Och Troll which is that swedish collection of childrens stories that had the most exquisite art in it and I was especially obsessed with the story about the mermaid Akmea who saved the beautiful sailor, or the one with the kindly white lion who showed up in someones yard.

Sidenote: I went through these old books to find the pictures since google was no help and one has an inscription wishing me a happy 4th birthday, and one has me trying to write my name and it is the most stiltedly awkward penmanship ever and my gosh that's the cutest thing 🥺

118 your favourite short story collection

Hoo.. I don't read a lot of those but when I was in high school they would give out little paperbacks called "Färdlektyr" with assorted short stories and poems and I always looked forward to that semester's edition, does that count?

124 the book you’re currently reading

I started on The Forest Of Stars by Heather Kassner a while back, and realised that the first 5 chapters do not live up to my hopes and so have not read anything since I had to put it down at the end of a lunch break OTL

These were a lot to do in one sitting! I did take a short break for dinner, but otherwise I did do it all in one go, please be happy? :*

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