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cowboyfromh3ll · 5 months

Note

You know how in the epilogue John works on Mr Geddes ranch and the wife invites him inside the house (basically hinting at you know what) well that sparked an idea for a request. Could you do an Arthur fic where the reader is in a similar situation where she isn’t on good terms with her husband and she knows he’s cheating on her so after Arthur starts working on their farm she takes a liking to him and they have sex.

Sugar On My Tongue

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Smut)

FINALLY UPLOADING A ONE SHOT YALL

Warnings: smut, infidelity

You found it hilarious that people thought you and your husband were the perfect couple based solely on looks. During the celebration following your wedding, his brother loudly and drunkenly declared just how attractive the two of you were, “a genetic match made in heaven.” he said, his words slurring together with noticeable envy. Later that night, his brother would have attempted to put a hand on your ass before throwing up in the grass behind your ranch.

The two of you were needlessly attractive, and in your days working as a handmaid, you would have bragged endlessly about what a catch you got. Your fellow handmaids would’ve also raved on about just how good-looking he was, expressing their jealousy through lighthearted jokes. The wealth he possessed was another determining factor of your marriage to him. You supposed marrying him was worth it for his massive ranch alone. However, the real problems began just mere months after your wedding ceremony. What should have marked a beautiful beginning to your lives together quickly deteriorated into something else.

The ring on your husband's finger didn’t seem to slow the frenetic pace at which he flirted with women and picked them up, never in the comfort of your own home but under the guise that he was headed into town to take care of business. You often wanted to argue back that all the business that needed doing was here on the ranch, but you did not want to risk your life of comfort. Part of you learned to put up with it only because it meant you could sit around all day, spend your husband's money, and watch loads of sweaty men work around your ranch. In the same vein as your husband's infidelity, his time away from the ranch meant being able to flirt with the ranch hands subtly.

You were well aware of how attractive you were and were more than well aware that the ranch hands thought the same of you. You’d feel their leering gazes whenever you bent over to pick something up, the whole world suddenly stopping behind you just to stare at your ass. You found enjoyment in the act of undoing the top buttons of your shirt to expose your cleavage before heading out the doorway of your home, looking straight ahead while doing your best strut past the working hands. You would smirk openly as you heard their chatter between each other die down and fall silent, feeling all their eyes transfer to you as you walked past. Once you were several feet away, you’d hear the low whistles of the men, followed by their lewd comments: “She’s smoking hot.” “If I had a wife like her, hell, I’d be home all the time.” “Too bad she’s married to the ranch owner.”

You knew this was the mindset you had to conquer in Arthur’s mind. In your conquest of the new aforementioned ranch hand, you had to rid him of the idea that what you were doing was wrong; it’d appear more as taboo flirting than actual infidelity. Arthur could also be described as needlessly attractive. He seemed to highlight every aspect that made up exactly what it was that you loved so much about your ranch hands: his sultry low drawl, his big arms with bulging biceps that would flex from any form of strain, his rough hands, callused from all the work he had done in his life, his full beard that he’d occasionally trimmed down to a fine stubble, and his wonderfully welcoming gentle blue eyes that contrasted every other bit of his begin. The sweat on his skin made him appear glossy and slick, and you’d taken a liking to the fantasy of licking his entire body clean of it. The perfect cherry on top.

At times you wished your urges for the man would remain dormant, but the silent cries from between your legs were hummed just loud enough that you were constantly aware of them; like a soundtrack to whatever it was you were trying to do with Arthur. And every time you ventured outside your ranch home, you’d spot Arthur in the distance, splashing his face with water and watching the way the droplets of water raced down his jaw and neck to see which was lucky enough to make it under the collar of his shirt first. Other times you’d see him shoveling dirt or hay, and you’d focus solely on the way his hands and arms worked. Your favorite was being able to watch him heave large sacks over his shoulders, often multiple at once. By the end of the day, the scent of Arthur’s sweat as he stood by you or walked past you was so pungent that it clung to your nostrils and made you dizzy with desire.

You clung onto the hope that during one of these encounters, you might come across the best scenario possible: Arthur fixing a fence at noon when the sun was highest in the sky, freckles of blown dirt sticking to his sweaty shirtless torso, his dirt-stained denim jeans hanging lowly on his hips; one tug away from freedom. Your husband gone. In that case, you might be able to stumble across his working form and feign concern for his sunburnt skin. Would he mind taking a break? Allowing you to take him into your home for a cold glass of water? You’d been in the sun all day, you were both likely parched.

Your greatest bouts of confidence came during moments when you were able to find yourself alone with Arthur. You knew seducing any of the other ranch hands would be ridiculously easy, but Arthur had a little resistance to him, and you loved a little challenge. You pounced on the opportunity to talk to Arthur when you saw him standing inside the stables, soaked in sweat from head to toe while trying to evade the sun’s harsh rays in the shade provided. You saw him wipe his sweat off on the back of his sleeve, feeling as though it was a blatant misuse of a precious resource. ‘No!’ you wanted to shout ‘Don’t wipe it off! Let me clean it off you!’

“Real hot today isn’t it, Mr. Morgan?” You sauntered up behind Arthur, leaning your weight on the door of one of the stables. He pitched his pitchfork against a wall and turned back before smiling politely at you.

“Certainly is, Miss. Why ain’t you inside, huh? You could get sunburnt.” Arthur warned, which you found incredibly endearing. It could’ve been just a simple show of concern, but you believed it to be far more than that. It sounded more to you like a declaration of love.

“I just like making my rounds around the ranch, taking nice walks. It is my ranch after all.” You reminded. You found that an admonition of your position of power around here would cement you as someone with far more influence than any of your hands. It proved effective, as Arthur began nodding in understanding.

“Right, my apologies, Miss.” He said, bowing his head slightly.

“No need to apologize, say, do you wanna come into the house for a cold beer? Sure seems like you need to cool off.” Not just a beer, a cold beer. You had a way with words. How many hours had Arthur worked in the field, the skin of his back stinging from cruel sunburns while his vision blurred from his own sweat dripping into his eyes, parched beyond any relief the tepid tap water could provide, dreaming of a really cold beer? You shifted your weight onto one hip and allowed a small smirk to crawl onto your face. You began to shed all polite pretenses as you looked Arthur up and down, reveling in the way his body noticeably tensed. You weren’t being too forthcoming, but just enough that if Arthur decided to come onto you, you’d be doing him a great favor by entertaining his advances.

“I don’t think I should, Miss, I-”

“Nonsense! You live on this ranch, after all, I see no harm in stepping inside my house. Especially since I’m allowing it.”

Arthur looked at you hesitantly, then quickly around him as if he didn’t want anyone to see him talking to you. Arthur wasn’t oblivious to the fact that every single ranch hand found you attractive, as well as himself. He just didn’t want to receive an endless stream of questioning as to why and what he was talking to you about.

“If you insist.” He said, removing his hat from his head and following you out the stable.

“I’m more than happy to.” You smiled, blithely patting his shoulders before sliding your hand down his arm. You passed it off with clueless laughter, shivering at the feeling of his eyes on your backside. Arthur fiddled with his fingers as he followed you up the path to your house. The glaring sun made the green grass appear brighter, creating a luminous passage toward salvation.

The sounds of your footsteps up the wooden porch pulled him out of a trance he didn’t realize he was in. Arthur looked up at you from the bottom of the steps, still hesitant to make his way up. You looked down at him from where you stood, reveling in the faux height difference that made you far taller than he was; you felt half god to his mortal.

“Come on,” You beckoned. “It’s just my house.” You shrugged and smiled, your lips twitching in an attempt to hold back a smirk. Arthur took one last cautionary glance around before finally making his way up. You opened the door and allowed Arthur to walk in first, stepping inside afterward with a large smile. The sound of the metal clanking as the bolt shut into place felt like a small kick in your loins that spurred you on in your pursuit.

Arthur stood awkwardly in the center of the living area as he looked around. He became hyper-aware of his limbs, his arms hovering over his torso, unsure what to do next. You walked past him and smiled at him, motioning with your hand for him to follow you.

You led him to your ornately papered kitchen, making a show of bending over in front of him to retrieve the box of chilled beers below the counter. You set the heavy box down on the table, digging a beer out, and popping the lid off on the corner of the table. Froth rose from the beer bottle, sliding over your hand and soaking the skin. Arthur watched, as if hypnotized, as the foam slid over and dripped onto your floor. He swallowed hard and squinted his eyes, the kitchen window behind you draping you in a soft sheet of sunlight as you eclipsed it; only adding to your godly image. Your movements seemed to play in slow motion as you stretched your arm out and handed Arthur the beer. Every turn or twitch of a limb felt somnambulant, his arm feeling like a sandbag as he lifted it and took the beer from your dainty hand.

The condensation, combined with Arthur’s nerves, caused the bottle to slip from his hand and crash on the floor. The shattering sound caused Arthur to snap out of his daze, as thought it more some sort of anecdote to the hypnosis he was under.

“Oh, Miss, I’m so sorry.” Arthur crouched down and began gathering the large pieces of glass in his hand, afraid of the possibility that if he looked up, he might see your disappointed face. Being able to step inside your home to be able to enjoy a cold beer already felt like a blessing. You bent down in front of him, placing your lithe hands on his wrists. He looked up at you, swallowing hard and preparing for any chastising he would receive. But it never came.

“It’s okay. I’ll clean it up. It’s my fault anyways, I should’ve wiped it down before I handed it to you.” Normally, Arthur would have argued back, but he seemed to fall under your spell again. It was as if against his own will, he let the glass side from his palms onto the ground again and rose. You looked up at him with a smile, still kneeling before him. Arthur felt his cock twitch.

“Why don’t you go sit down at the table over there? I’ll get you a new beer.” You smiled a bit longer, watching for any signs of refusal before getting back to cleaning up the mess. You waited for the view of Arthur’s boots to disappear from your peripheral before you decided to dispose of the glass in the trash. You turned your back to retrieve another beer, hearing the scrape of a chair against the floor. You took the opportunity to unbutton two extra buttons from your shirt so that it hung open and exposed some cleavage. You expected him to stare at you as you spoke inane details about how the ranch was doing in terms of business, then you could act surprised that his gaze had med your open shirt and possibly get a confession that he was indeed looking at your chest—information you’d pretend to find so overly flattering you’d offer to give him an even better look.

The moment you turned around to face him, beer and bottle opener in hand, you caught his eyes flickering to your chest before quickly looking away. You would’ve passed it off as sneaky if not for the fact you were actively seeking for him to look. You walked closer, grinning widely and continuing to approach him until you stood closely next to where he sat, perhaps too close for comfort. Your hip bone brushed against his arm, something you pretended not to notice—you also pretended not to notice the way he shifted in his seat, trying his best to keep his gaze on the table.

You popped the cap off the bottle, handing it to Arthur and ensuring he had a firm grasp on it. Arthur thanked you quietly before taking a sip. For the first time since Arthur entered your home, he felt comfortable and almost content as he sipped the beer. He took a large swig, his nerves washed away by the golden liquid as he allowed himself to slump in his chair. It was almost enough to make him forget that you still stood closely by his side, your hip pressed into his tricep at this point.

Arthur continued to drink, trying to ignore the satisfied smile on your face that bordered on unnerving. He nearly dropped the bottle again when he felt your hand slide onto his shoulder before giving it a heavy and firm squeeze, full of intent. He nearly convinced himself he was hallucinating, hesitant to look up. Was this all just a mirage he had dreamt up, brought about by the scorching heat? But as your hand slid down to his firm bicep, delivering a gentle squeeze, it was confirmed to him that this was real.

“Miss… What are you doing?” Despite having downed an entire bottle of beer, Arthur’s throat became instantly dry. He finally willed himself to look up at you, a chill wracking through his body when he made eye contact with your icy eyes. Eyes colder than any drink you could offer him, and it suggested that perhaps, you had something that could quench his thirst better than any drink as well.

“Why don’t we celebrate a little more?” You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, maintaining that same innocent smile. But the two of you were beyond the point of ignorance for what this was leading to; all it would take for this to escalate was for someone to say it.

Your other hand slid around his shoulder, both of your hands coming to knead at his shoulders. You skillfully worked the muscles in his shoulders, making occasional comments about how hardworking he must be in order to be this tense. Meanwhile, Arthur sat in his seat, trying to weigh out in his head whether this was okay or if this was already too far. How much farther would this get? Would it go beyond the point of being able to say he didn’t engage in adultery? How long would your husband be gone for? Would he find out? You could say Arthur came onto you and he’d have no reason not to believe you.

“Miss, I really don’t think I should be here anymore.” He didn’t turn to face you, occupying himself with playing with the bottle.

“Why not?”

Arthur was unsure of how to proceed. There was no way he was reading your signals wrong. You were feeling his chest up at this point, and so far, he’d made no movements to get your hands off of him. He’d be lying if he said part of him didn’t enjoy this. But what if he was reading this wrong? But how could he? It couldn’t have been more in his face.

“Well, you’re… married…” He finally mustered up. Being reminded of your husband at a time you were supposed to be enjoying yourself nearly drove you to anger. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, confirming something in Arthur’s head.

“Let’s not be dumb here.” There was a sudden seriousness in your voice that made Arthur nervous. “I’m tired of looking dumb to everyone on the farm while my husband goes out and fucks some birds in town.” You squeezed Arthur’s shoulder and moved around his body to face him now. Perhaps it was your honesty or your assertiveness, but not much else needed to be said. There was a sacred moment of understanding between the two of you that did not need to be verbalized.

When your husband later found out, you wouldn’t have been able to recount to him the details of the time it took to get from the kitchen table to your shared bed. Time sped up the instant you crashed your lips onto Arthur’s, any tinge of hesitance leaving him as he kissed back hungrily. He gripped either side of your button-up and yanked, causing buttons to fly all over the bedroom floor—buttons you never bothered to pick up. You wore no chemise that day, so Arthur got an instant eyeful of your bare breasts. Arthur worked his shirt off while you slid off your skirt and drawers, leaving you completely naked. Arthur himself was only wearing his jeans at this point.

You wasted no time in pushing Arthur on his back, the same spot where your husband slept; he had a moment of clarity when his head hit the pillow where he realized just how quickly this was moving. But before he could reach the point in his train of thought where he would begin defusing this sexually charged situation, you were on all fours facing him. You lowered yourself onto your elbows as you began undoing his belt buckle, sliding the leather out the loops of his jeans and discarding it next to the bed. You hastily undid his button and zipper, making Arthur feel like he was being pounced on by a panther in the woods, ready to be mauled by your lust and desire.

Arthur rested his body weight on his elbows and watched you pull his cock out, looking on in amusement as you gawked at its size and held it next to your face in comparison. His breath caught in his throat when you licked up the side of his cock, reaching the tip and spitting a fat glob of saliva, allowing it to slide down his shaft. The two of you watched it in mesmerization before you began slathering his cock with it, swiping your thumb over his tip and circling your pad on it.

You lowered your head onto his cock, your hair coming down and framing your face while you sucked him off like curtains to a show. Arthur eyed the way your ass lifted in the air, curving into a perfect heart shape that was begging to be slapped. You wasted no time shoving his cock all the way to the back of your throat, swallowing around him as you tried to ease away a gag. You salivated around him, your body’s attempt to aid you. You slid your head back up slowly until breathing became difficult, various strings of saliva connecting you to his tip as you sucked in a breath. The strings broke and dripped down your chin, the sight so filthy and lewd Arthur almost didn’t feel bad about this.

You licked up the side of his cock before reaching the tip and licking down again. You repeated the same motion while maintaining eye contact, smiling widely as you did so. Arthur was utterly debauched, his limbs feeling too jelly-like to continue to hold himself up. He crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing fully and claiming your husband’s spot like he was the new lion that crawled into the den. You began deepthroating Arthur, bobbing your head up and down as you moaned around him. You had never blown your husband with such vigor, and much recently, you had begun refusing to sleep with him. Probably spurring him on to keep seeking out sex work. But you couldn’t care less about his history of infidelity at this moment. You could only focus on the way Arthur's face contorted and tipped back in pleasure, his lips parting to pant.

You lifted your head from Arthur, wiping your mouth on the back of your arm and eyeing him. The two of you synchronized as you climbed on top of Arthur, his hands taking hold of your own as he guided you on top of him. Arthur watched you take his glistening cock and line it up with your cunt, and in the blink of an eye, you had sunk down fully onto him.

Arthur’s eyes went wide as he watched you instantly begin to ride him, not taking a second to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Your moans began loudly, throwing your head back as you bounced yourself on his lap. You supposed this was a bigger moment than this was for Arthur. A sense of control washing over you, feeling more powerful than ever. You imagined your husband’s face if he were to walk in. The horror that would cross his features.

“Oh fuck! This is so much better than my husband…” You gasped. You gripped his shoulders and supported yourself on his, the burning in your legs increasing as you continued to ride him. Arthur eventually gripped your hips, moving you up and down with much greater force. Initially, it felt like you were fucking yourself on Arthur, but now it felt like he was the one fucking you.

Your bodies move in tandem, heavy moans and pants and groans filling the room. The sheer scandalousness of it all tipped you over as you came all over his cock. You continued to ride Arthur, despite having been satiated yourself, set on having him cum inside you.

“Finish inside me.” You demanded. His thrusts stuttered, a tinge of bewilderment in his eyes.

“Are you sure? What if-”

“Just do it, dammit.” You said through grit teeth.

After a few more minutes of thrusting, Arthur emptied himself inside you, your cunt now a spent pool of pleasure. It felt as though a deep itch inside you had finally been scratched, and Arthur began to wonder how long you had been planning something like this or if this happened completely by chance.

Golden rays began pouring in from your bedroom window, indicating a lot of time had passed. To the two of you, it felt so short. Your body shone with the afterglow of sex, the sweat glistening on your skin. You had never looked so heavenly. Arthur allowed you to be his god for the day, his savior. To you, godhood was just like girlhood, begging to be seen.

Sugar On My Tounge - Talking Heads

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #red dead fanfiction #writing #van der linde gang x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x reader smut

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wizard-on-whales · 2 months

Text

Whiskey and Tea (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

No warnings just fluff

Word Count - 1500

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Arthur Morgan was a powerhouse of a man, but even those needed to rest now and then. But the thought of that seemed to escape not only his understanding but also several other members of the gangs as well. You watched as he came in and out of camp at all times of the day. He was always out fetching things for others and hardly ever got time to himself. The second he did usually ended in Miss. Grimshaw or Dutch hassling him for being lazy or someone asking him for a favor. Even after everything Arthur had done for everyone, he could hardly get a second of peace.

You were sitting at the fire, your hands occupied with the piece of wood you were attempting to carve into a figure for Jack. Arthur had been in camp for a few hours, busying himself with chores others avoided, like carrying the haybales or fetching water for the wash station. Finally, he decided to sit across from you at the fire. Arthur watched the flames burn, the embers swirling into the sky, mixing with the colors of the oncoming dusk. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and the heavy bags under his eyes made you question when he had last slept. He let out a noticeable sigh and wiped his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes slightly. The dance of the fire and soft lullaby from Javier's guitar seemed to be rocking him to sleep. Not long after he sat down, Dutch decided to waltz up to him, a plan clearly in mind.

“Come on, Arthur, get that man of action back! Get out there and do something! I've got a lead you can check out for me.” You felt anger rise in your chest, and your hands clutched the carving in your hand tightly, your knuckles turning white. You had to physically hold back from chucking the object at Dutches head. Arthur hesitated for a moment before sighing and getting up from his spot, not wanting to disappoint his halfway father figure.

“Sure, what is it?” Arthur listened to Dutch rattle off whatever idea he had as the two of them walked away from the fire. After they were done speaking, Arthur marched towards his horse, stopping to brush her off first. Before he could mount and head off, your own idea formed.

You hadn't been with the gang long, only a few months. Dutch and Arthur had been the ones who found you tied up in a cabin in the freezing mountains of the grizzlies. Bounty hunting was a risky job. You knew that and were willing to take the risks, but you also know you made a mistake going after Colm. The Van Der Lindes luckily went after him only a few days after you and attacked the camp they had set up in an abandoned town, finding you in the process. Despite Arthur saving you, the two of you had hardly spoken. But it didn't take much observing to realize Arthur wasn’t exactly the chatty type.

“Arthur!” You called out, watching him turn your way, “Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah,” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and adjusted his hat, “Dutch asked me to help him with something.”

“Well, before you run off, could you help me with something first?” Arthur thought about it before putting the brush in his hand back down.

“I suppose, whatchu need, girl?” Instead of answering him, you smiled happily and walked off in the opposite direction, hoping he'd follow. Which, of course, like a lost puppy, he did. You marched right through the front doors of Shady Bell, up the old, rotting stairs, and into Arthur's room, “Why we goin’ to my room? We gonna need ammo or somethin’?

“Or something,” You walked up to his bed and sat on the edge, patting the spot next to you. He gave you a dazed look, tilting his head quizzically, but compiled and sat down.

“You know…I ain't a good therapist if you're wanton’ to talk about somethin’,” He rubbed his sweaty palms across the fabric covering his knees.

“I ain't here to talk, Arthur,” You brought your hands up to his shoulders, your fingers slowly massaging the tight muscles hiding under his clothes. He tensed at first but quickly relaxed under your touch, “You're always running off doin’ things for people, but you never give yourself time to relax. I ‘bout shot Dutch when he came up to you at the fire.”

“So you dont really want nothin’?” Arthur didn't look at you but instead closed his eyes and leaned in closer to you. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and felt his breath catch in his throat. Arthur had found you exceptionally attractive from the second he laid eyes on you. And he had spent the last few months avoiding you because of it. He knew trying to speak to you would mean flushed cheeks and unclear sentences, so he kept to himself. But now, here you were, sitting on his bed, giving him a massage, and he was too damn tired to feel flustered or to really realize what was happening.

“I do want somethin’... I want you to relax and get some sleep for once in your goddamn life. Take your vest off,” Arthur didn't say anything in response but did as he was told and took the vest off. He could feel your fingers working at the tight knots better now that it was just the thin fabric of his shirt left. The two of you sat in silence for a while as your hands traveled up and down his back, occasionally stopping just to scratch your nails across it. You could tell Arthur was slowly nodding off.

“Darlin’?” You say sweetly, pulling him out of his trance. He just hummed in response, “You wanna lay down?”

Arthur nodded and stretched before finally opening his eyes and looking at you. You gave him a soft smile and reached up, pulling his hat off before setting it on the small table he had next to his bed and lying down. You patted your chest, offering it as a pillow, which he gladly accepted and laid down. One of your hands rubbed his back, and the other made its way into his hair. You played with it softly, making it a little messier than it already was. Arthur's breathing got heavier soon after laying down, and you could hear quiet snores rising from him. You smiled to yourself and kissed the top of his head before closing your eyes and dozing off.

Sometime during the night, your position changed. Arthur's arm now hung heavily over your middle, pressing your back flush against his solid chest. You stirred slightly, trying to blink the sun out of your eyes as you remembered where you were. You could still hear Arthur's quiet breathing behind you, so you assumed he wasn't awake yet. The moment was peaceful. With Arthur's soft sounds, the comforting arm safely holding you, and the songs from birds flowing in through the broken window. You sighed contently and rubbed the lingering sleep out of your eyes before feeling Arthur pull you closer.

“Good mornin’,” Arthur's voice was still laced with sleep, making it deeper than normal. You felt your heart jump and your face warm. Although you had admitted to yourself that Arthur was attractive, you had pushed down any other thought of the man. He had been your friend, ally, and nothing more. But the security of his grasp and the sound of his voice made it hard to push your feelings down. It made you crave something more.

“Morning,” You turned in his arms so that you were no longer facing the room but facing him. His caramel hair was tousled, and his eyes were heavy, not from lack of sleep but from what was still lingering. He gave you the softest smile, revealing more of his true colors to you. Not some big rough outlaw, not the camp workhorse, but a man who just needs a little love. You smiled back, admiring the beauty of his eyes. The sunbeams shining through the window hit them just right, making them look like the sea. You reached up to push a few stray hairs out of his face, “Did you finally get some sleep, cowboy?”

“I did, thanks to you,” He returned the favor and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess I should help you out more often.” You laughed slightly, resting your hand on his face, scratching his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation.

“And I guess I should ask for your help more often,” It was Arthur's turn to let out a small chuckle, and without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He quickly realized what he had done and pulled back as fast as he had leaned forward. His eyes widdened as he released his grip and sat up, scratching the back of his head.

“I-Im sorry I wasn't thinkin’...I guess I-,” Arthur stumbled over his words, you cut him off by kissing him again. He stiffened for a second but melted into your touch. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, you tasted like honey and tea.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #van der linde gang #red dead fandom #arthur morgan x reader

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hyperfixationstati0n · 9 months

Text

Curling Iron

Pairing: Spencer x bau!reader (kind of gender neutral, i feel like it could be interpreted many ways but idk)

Content warnings: Allusions to sex

Word Count: 1,005

You and Spencer had been dating now for almost a year. You had managed to keep it a secret from the rest of the team…for the most part. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know. You just didn’t want it to affect how you worked more than it already did. You were spending the night at Spencers when you both got a phone call one after another. Unfortunately for the two of you, it was because you had to go in for another case, when you were supposed to have two days off. You both reluctantly roll out of the warmth of your shared bed and start getting ready long before the sun has risen. Which was bad on all accounts, especially since neither of you had gotten much sleep that night. Truthfully, you never really did when you were together.

As if you needed another reason to put you in a bad mood, this case had caught you on the one day you weren’t prepared. The only work clothes you had with you were the ones you had left in the day before, strewn across Spencer's bedroom floor, and they weren’t exactly in the best condition at that point. You groan and start to pick up your black dress pants from the floor, slipping them on as Spencer retreated to the bathroom. You then put on your dark purple long sleeve shirt. You stand to look in Spencer's mirror. You looked like hell. Your pants were wrinkled, your hair wasn’t sitting quite right, and you couldn’t wipe the tiredness from your face. That is in great contrast to your boyfriend, who walks out of the bathroom looking like he always does. The only evidence that his night was interrupted was the sleepiness in his eyes. You did manage to smile a little when he walked out to you, in a navy blue button up and a purple tie.

You tilted your head and looked at him, as he noticed your attire.

“This could not have happened on a worse night.” He says, his voice still low and groggy having only gotten out of bed less than ten minutes ago.

All you can manage to do is nod and look at yourself in the mirror again. You were always known for looking and being very put together, and this morning did not reflect that. You groan and run your hands over your face, trying to get yourself to wake up. Spencer walks over to you and puts a hand on the small of your back, pressing a kiss into the side of your head.

“Come on, we have to go.” He says in the softest, most comforting voice. You can’t help but let him lead you out of his apartment and down to his car, hand in hand the whole way.

In fact, you don’t stop holding hands until you get out of the car, walking into the BAU trying to act like you were just co-workers. Spencer gives you an apologetic smile as he makes his way around the other side of the table and takes a seat, waiting for JJ to start briefing you all on the case that had woken everyone up at two in the morning. You also take a seat, between Morgan and Hotch, your usual placement.

This case was a rough one, and you would be leaving in half an hour. Just enough time to make coffee, you thought. So, with that, you wander over to the coffee station. Sure, the coffee was borderline stale, but you needed something. Anything. It wasn’t surprising when both Morgan and Spencer were right behind you, clearly having had the same thought. As you pour the coffee into your mug, almost falling asleep as you do, Morgan gives you a sideways look.

“So, what’s his name?” Morgan asks in a smooth voice, pouring his own cup before passing the pot to Spencer, who looked amused.

“Hm?” You question, stirring copious amounts of sugar and creamer into your cup.

“Don’t play innocent.” Morgan laughs. “Wrinkled pants, the same clothes you were wearing yesterday, that tired look on your face, and…” He trails off, lifting your hair off your neck with his finger. “What’s that?”

By the smug expression on his face, you already know what he was pointing at. A hickey. Spencer had given you a fucking hickey, and the both of you were too tired to notice it before you left. You give him a quick glare over Morgan's shoulder, seeing the man you loved stifling a laugh over his mug.

“I…burned myself with my curling iron.” You lie out of your ass, just hoping he would accept it and move on.

But no, it was Derek Morgan. The man who made it his life's purpose to tease you, even if he did it out of love. With your words, he gives you another look, raising one eyebrow.

“Your hair isn’t curled, Y/N.” He says with a flat yet amused tone of voice.

Your face goes red and you lean it on your free hand to try and hide it. Morgan laughs and pats you on the back before walking away, giving Spencer ample space to slide down next to you. You can just feel the mix of guilt and pleasure emanating off of him. Your face is still hidden by your hand when he speaks, in a low whisper.

“Sorry angel…I forgot I did that.” He says, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Mhm” You groan, yet you can’t help but smile through the embarrassment. “It’s alright, it could’ve been worse. Plus, I don’t really mind.”

You adjust your hair back over your neck from where Morgan had moved it, making sure the mark was well hidden this time. You and Spencer sit in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping your own respective coffees next to each other.

“So I'm a curling iron, huh?” He says, already laughing at his own comment.

“Shut up.” You say, laughing as well.

(AN: I don’t know why in the only two things i’ve posted on here Morgan is a menace lmao-but as usual leave feedback if you want, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ilysm :)

#criminal minds #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #x y/n

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lowkeyerror · 4 months

Text

Warmth

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Notes: Slightly sad but overall happy and super fluffy, Christmas themed, happy holidays everyone!

Summary: You miss your family during the Christmas season, making you feel isolated. However Wanda reminds you that there are still people who care about you here.

Masterlist

Christmas was hard for you. It reminded you of all of your losses. Your parents, your sister, and your team. Watching the snow fall together only reminded you of those that fell with you during the war. You were always a little more zoned out during the season. Focusing was harder than it ever would be.

You had a new team that was not dissimilar to your military family, the Avengers. This wasn’t your first Christmas with them, but it was the first time you couldn’t pretend to be filled with the Christmas spirit.

They didn’t really know what was going on with you, but they could guess based on your past. Earth’s mightiest heroes were string warriors on the field, but they weren’t savvy when it came to emotional turmoil. So, they let you sulk to an extent. They would drag you out of the house, but they let you sit out any activities.

That’s how you ended up sitting alone in a nearly emptying ice rink Tony had rented out. You watched as members of the team skate on the ice with their friends and family members. Clint had brought Laura and the kids, Tony brought Morgan, Bruce brought his cousin Jen, Thor had brought Valkyrie along with Loki. Even Natasha brought Yelena out for the day.

You hold a sad smile on your face seeing them enjoy each other.

“You aren’t going to skate?” Wanda sits next to you adjusting her skates.

You shake your head, “I think I’m good just watching.”

Wanda sighs at your words, “Where’ve you been these past couple of days?”

Your brow furrows, “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

Wanda jabs a finger against your forehead, “We both know you haven’t been present up there. What’s bothering you?”

You want to close off and you are prepared to do so, until you catch Wanda’s eyes. They’re filled with genuine care and worry. As much as you hate to admit it to yourself, you don’t want to push her away.

“I miss my family. My parents, my sister, my friends, they’re all gone. It’s hard to not think about them around this time of year. The past couple of years I’ve been good at keeping it inside, but it’s too much this year.”

Wanda understands, probably better than anyone else in the building. She finds herself reaching for your hand, “Tell me about them.”

Your eyes grow wide for a second, but nonetheless you search for a memory to share, “For Christmas my mom would always make this pie. It wasn’t really a pie, more like a cheesecake. She called it a banana split pie. My sister and I would always have some silly competition for the last slice. One year we did a performance for my mom and dad and the winner was supposed to get the last slice of the pie. So, picture me 13 years old, scrawny as can be, determination on my face, as I belt out the lyrics to Last Christmas by Wham. It’s just as over the top as you’re imagining it.”

Wanda laughs a bit, which only widens the small smile playing on your lips.

“Now my sister wasn’t going down that easy, she did a dance routine to All I Want For Christmas is You. My parents were split, they couldn’t pick a winner. So, while my sister and I were arguing about who was better, my dad ate the last slice of pie,” you can’t help but roll your eyes.

Wanda cackles openly this time, “All that hard work for nothing?”

“Exactly! I poured my heart out, I could almost taste the pie.”

The two of sat with the warmth of your story. The woman had succeeded in lifting your mood. It almost made you want to go out and skate with the others, but there was a lingering sadness after you realized that you’d never share a moment like that again.

“I miss my family too. Pietro loved Christmas. I never really knew if he preferred getting gifts or giving gifts. I think he was just happy to have everyone together” Wanda speaks up.

“Do you have a favorite gift from him?”

Wanda smiles while looking at the ring that adorns her finger,” He gave me so much more than just physical items. For a long time, it was just us, my parents died when we were young. Piet gave me comfort, more than anyone probably ever will. This ring belonged to my mother; it was a gift to her from my Papa. I thought it had been lost in the bombing that destroyed our home. Years later, after our parents were long gone, he gifted me this ring. I don’t know how he got it, but he did. I don’t think I ever hugged him that hard. I cried against him, and he held me. I was only a teen, still a child really, but I cried like I was a 4-year-old. This ring, it’s like my entire family on my finger. My mama, my papa, and Piet.”

You have tears brimming your eyes as they shift from Wanda to the ring, “It’s beautiful, Wanda.”

She nods her head, holding back her own tears. She takes a large breath and holds out her hand, “Skate with me.”

It’s not a question, but even if it was, you doubt you’d say no to her. Reluctantly you lace the skates and follow her on to the ice. The red head nearly falls after her first step onto the ice. You were quick to place your hand on her waist.

You chuckle from behind her,” Have you done this before?”

You don’t see the rosy hints of her teeth, “Yes, I’ve just never been particularly good at it.”

Once you’re sure that she’s steady, you move to face her. This time you hold out your hand and she looks at it skeptically, “And you’re good at this?”

You scoff and tell her to watch you. Skating around the rink is simple enough, you show off a bit with a simple figure 8. Then you skate back up to her, “I think I’m pretty ok, what did you think?”

She gives you a side eye, “I get it you’re a professional skater.”

You shake your head and extend your hand again, “Let’s do a lap together.”

Wanda hesitates.

You reassure her once again, “We’ll stay close to the wall, I promise to not let you fall.”

She places her hand in yours, “If I fall, I'm taking you with me.”

“Fine by me.”

The two of you begin to skate laps in the rink hand in hand. Wanda refuses to let go of the rail for the first few laps, until she’s content with just holding on to you. True to your word, the woman doesn’t fall. You revel in the happiness that radiates off of her as you move on the ice.

“Teach me how to do the 8.”

“I can’t promise you won't fall if we're going to do the 8,” you warn her.

She shrugs a bit, “Just promise you’ll catch me, and we should be fine. “

Now it is you that has the tint on your cheeks. You nod and slowly show her how you do the figure 8. You can feel her eyes intensely watching every little detail of your movement.

She tries a few times on her own, coming really close but not being able to complete the 8. The frustration that’s building within her shows on the outside. It reminds you of a child having a tantrum. It’s quite adorable. She’s nearly ready to give up and you can tell.

“Hold on to my hips, we’ll do it together.”

Wanda lets out a huff of defeat before carefully skating behind you. Her hands rest respectfully on your hips. You begin to make the figure 8 and she follows holding you tightly, scared she might fall. Once you’re down you hear a small applause erupting for the two of you.

“Double infinity, nice,” Tony says slow clapping.

“I think the real miracle is Y/n keeping Wanda from falling on the ice,” Natasha chimes in.

“Careful Nat, before my powers accidentally trip you,” Wanda playfully taunts the spy.

Nat holds her hands up in defense, “It was just a joke, Wands.”

This moment feels warm, like the memory of you singing your heart out in front of your family on Christmas day. It’s partially the playful banter from the Avengers, but the other part is the woman standing besides you with her arm steady around your waist.

Her kindness, her comfort, it was like a heater in a cold room.

The attention naturally shifts from you and Wanda when the kids call for attention. You take this as your moment to head back to the benches and sit for a bit. Wanda trails behind you, a little more skilled than when she first stepped on the ice.

“I needed that, thank you” you say to Wanda, eyes shining up at her.

“It was nothing, Y/n. Besides I feel like the one who won the exchange, now I can skate without falling on my ass.”

The humor does little to cut through the sincerity of your voice, “I mean it Wanda. Thank you for skating with me.”

She matches your sincerity, “I know it’s a hard time for you, but it’s nothing that you have to face alone."

“Wanda, Y/n! You lot done for the night already?” Thor screams from across the ice.

Wanda looks like she wants to skate some more, but she can tell that you want to rest.

You beat her to it, “Go, I’ll join back in a bit.”

She eyes you tenderly, sticking out her pinky finger “Promise?”

You nearly snort at the childish antics, but still find yourself locking your pinky with hers, “I promise, now go."

She gets back on the ice, and you watch gleefully as she skates around with much more confidence. Fearful of breaking your promise, you find yourself back on the ice not long after Wanda. You skate with her and the others until it’s time for the rink to close. You almost don’t want the day to end, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t exhausted from the activity.

As soon as you’re back at the compound you quickly shower and then prepare for bed. For the first time this month the minute your head hits the pillow you’re out like a light. No intrusive thoughts, no unwanted feelings, just sleep. It feels good when you wake up a full 8 hours later.

You get ready for the day in your room. As you open the door to exit, you’re met with your skating partner from the day before.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

You send her a grin, “Morning, what can I do for you?”

She extends her hand, and you grab it, letting her lead you through the compound.

“Where are we going?”

“The kitchen,” she says as if it is a full answer.

You continue to allow her to pull you around, “What’s in the kitchen?"

She shrugs, “You’ll see in a second.”

Once you’re finally in the kitchen, Wanda stops walking right in front of the refrigerator. “Okay, close your eyes.”

You give her a look as if to say ‘really’ the look in her eyes directly challenges yours and with a huff of annoyance you shut your eyes. You hear Wanda going into the fridge but resist the urge to open your eyes. It seems like an eternity before you hear the fridge close. You fidget in your spot a little as your anticipation builds.

“How long until I get to open my eyes?”

“Open them now.”

When you open your eyes, they immediately widen. Tears build at the edges of your eyes. Your eyes move from the counter to Wanda.

“Is this- did you make my mom’s pie?”

Wanda smiles softly, “I don’t know if it’s exactly like your mom’s, but after hearing your story, I Googled a recipe. You didn’t really describe it in great detail, but I wanted to do this for you.”

Without any hesitation, you wrap your arms around the redhead. You hug her tightly, unable to properly express the immense amount of emotions you are feeling right now. She hugs you back just as tight, rubbing your back soothingly.

“I know it’s morning, but do you want a slice?” Wanda’s tone is delicate as she speaks to you, knowing how vulnerable you are at the moment.

You pull away from the hug and wipe at your eyes a bit, “I would love a slice.”

Wanda cuts you a slice and watches nervously as you lift a fork full to put in your mouth. As soon as the dessert hits your tongue, your mind is flooded with memories of your family Christmas parties. It was just like your mom’s. This time the tears spilled over as you put the fork down.

Your glossy eyes meet Wanda’s, “It’s just like hers.”

There’s so much more you want to say to Wanda, but you can’t. The tears are flowing too fast. The magic user attempts to wipe them away, but they’re coming faster than she can manage.

“I really hope there are some happy tears in there or else I’ll just feel like an asshole for making you cry,” she continues wiping away your tears.

Her statement makes you laugh, “They’re all happy tears, I promise. I’m just- this is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Just think of it as a thank you for the skating lessons,” Wanda says nonchalantly.

“Why did you make this?”

Her eyes don’t meet yours as she gazes at the floor. You can see the bright pigment dusting her cheeks as she plays with the ring on her finger.

“It just seemed like the right thing to do. I wanted to do something nice for you for the holidays.”

You want her to look at you. In fact, you need her to look at you. You place one of your hands on the small of her back pulling her closer to you. Once she is as close as can be, she has no choice but to meet your eyes.

“I want to thank you,” you say, eyes boring into hers.

She nods ever so slightly, “Thank me then.”

Your lips press against hers gently. The first thought that slips into your mind is the softness of her lips. What follows is the feeling of warmth spreading across your body as the two of you kiss. You wonder for a moment if your lips taste like bananas (they do). Wanda doesn’t mind, your lips against hers fills her heart. The same warmth you feel courses through her. The kiss doesn’t end until you hear someone clearing their throat in the kitchen, but even then, you don’t jump apart, you just pull away from each other.

“I hate to interrupt, but uh I was wondering if I could get a piece of that pie,” Clint says eyeing your pie.

A protest was about to leave your lips, but instead a smirk played on them instead, “Sure Clint, you can have a piece.”

The man reaches for the pie, but you pull it out of his reach, “If you can beat me in a talent show.”

Clint looks from you to the pie a few times before rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Fuck it, I accept.”

You smile at the archer, “5pm sharp, hope you can impress the team or else no pie for you.”

He leaves the kitchen grumbling, but the smile never leaves your face.

“Old habits die hard I see,” Wanda says teasing you.

“It’s the pie, it makes me do it,” you laugh, and she laughs with you. You peck her lips again, “Thank you, Wanda. This means everything to me.”

“I’ll make it over and over again if it keeps you kissing me like that,” she says like a joke, but you hear a slight seriousness to her tone.

“I still have to kiss you a thousand times, just to thank you for this one. So, expect plenty more kisses in the future. I think kissing you might just be better than the pie.”

The two of you laugh again, warmth filling the kitchen of the Avengers compound. It floods into your system as you revel in this moment with Wanda. She feels it too, as she tries to memorize every detail of this moment. It was more than just a first kiss; this was the moment that you knew Wanda was the warmth you needed to get through the winter.

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #tony stark #clint barton #the avengers

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knoxic · 5 months

Text

A kiss may ruin a human life.

Oscar Wilde

-Masterlist- part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

wc: 3k

warnings: usual cm things? angst, Aaron being horny again but I doubt that's an issue

a/n: I actually wrote smut in this part but it got so big I had to cut off lmao

Time passed strangely.

The car ride to the station was weird and silent, the elevator was too small, a couple officers looked at you weirdly but you never felt more relieved to be in a police station as you were now. Missing person records were scattered all over the place, set up specifically for your team, the door to the room the BAU had been using was left open, the round table in the middle was surrounded by maps and pictures of possible suspects.

"Oh, hello!" so focused on getting away from Aaron you had failed to realize Derek was watching you since you stepped out of the elevator, "What took you so long, honey?"

"Look who's talking, you are always at least 10 minutes late."

"That's because I got things to do" he smirked and even dared a wink "But you... Are always on time, I got curious that's all."

Opting to answer with a slight slap on his muscled arm, you left him and went to search for some coffee, the constant change in emotions left you dizzy with a foggy brain, your stomach grumbling did not help.

The embarrassing noise it made reminding you that those peanuts you ate for dinner are not actually meant to fill your stomach. Coffee was already being brewed despite not having many officers working this late, you supposed it was probably one of your teammates. There were some packages of food next to an old box of pizza and some napkins, nasty.

A sudden husky voice from the entrance door echoed inside the small room, the speed in which you lifted your head made your tense neck hurt.

"JJ is getting us something to eat, well, something better than..." with 'better' he meant healthier, there was barely any food in there and the only things that were edible did not really seem edible. With a hand gesture he pointed to the package in your hand, to be honest you had picked it up just to try and figure out what it was, not exactly meaning to eat it.

"Good, she always knows what we want." throwing the package back to where it sat before, you leaned on the counter trying to look unaffected, over the years you had mastered the art of having no facial expression, yet, you couldn't hide from the person standing in front of you.

...

He noticed the way you stepped out of the elevator, your head being held high even if your mind seemed to be elsewhere, the minute you two spent side by side in that tiny space seemed to have made your confidence slip. Heading to the meeting room to see Dave he walked past you and Morgan talking, he couldn't hear what was said before but the smirk on Derek's face told him enough-

"That's because I got things to do." spoke that teasing voice he was so familiarized with, making him stop, "But you... Are always on time, I got curious that's all." turning back, he saw the way you glared at the guy, tired and unfocused but with a hint of the flame that always showed when you were being teased, your mouth opened and closed but no words came out, your hand raising slowly to give the man's arm a weak slap, making your way around Derek your feet dragged you towards the kitchen.

His heart felt lighter and his lungs could finally take a deep breath. He knew the relationship you maintained with the team was at maximum, friendship. You were strictly professional and barely ever laughed at the dumb jokes and acts Derek and Emily pulled, holding back your own dumb remarks for an off work time, he had caught a glimpse of it once. At the time he wasn't aware how deep in he was for you so it didn't really affect him the way you threw you body at Emily from laughing too hard, or the way Derek always kept his hands on you, a simple trick to make people think you were unavailable and to keep creepy men away from you, he used that with Garcia too. Unfortunately for Aaron, it worked so well that it even kept himself away from you.

Following you was a decision his heart made and his mind didn't argue with. After what happened tonight he could use some caffeine to keep himself sane, the words you two exchanged seemed to have been said yesterday and not 45 minutes ago.

His phone, which he had found strangely under his go bag, now tucked into his left pocket buzzed twice, the walk to the kitchen was rather small so he stopped to check the messages. Both of them being from JJ and he could already guess what they said.

"Hotch!"

'Don't let anyone eat yet, I'll get us something.' paired with a winking emoji. Good, he didn't think anyone would eat the food here anyway.

He was wrong.

Seeing you with a 'snack' on your hand made his eyebrows go up and the sides of his mouth pull down, you wouldn't... "JJ is getting us something to eat, well, something better than..." his mouth worked fast, you hadn't acknowledged his presence, the slip on your expression when you looked up made him cringe at himself, you looked frightened before staring at him like a blank wall.

He heard your voice and saw your mouth moving but paid no attention to what was being said. He was focused on the way your body leaned on the counter and the way you tried so hard to keep a straight face.

Not knowing what he was supposed to say, he only nodded and walked over to the coffee machine right beside you. Grabbing two cups and filling them without saying anything, you kept watching him, he was close enough that his arm brushed yours a couple times.

"Did you talk to Rossi yet?" your voice was almost a whisper.

"No, not yet." he pushed one of the cups in your direction before mirroring your position against the counter. "Did Derek say anything?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"About the case?" he nodded. "No."

"What did he say then?" Oh my god, Aaron.

You laughed, a sarcastic laugh with no actual humor behind.

"Why would I tell you?" you grabbed the cup and left the kitchen.

...

"We thought he was only taking girls, right? But we were wrong, I asked Garcia to take a look at other bodies found in the area because I was sure I had seen something similar. Two young boys were taken a few weeks ago, few days in between and were found dead after three days too. I had seen their pictures and something clicked. The unsub has a type! People who look innocent and small, in general someone who look defenseless you know?" He took some time to place all of the victims pictures on the table.

"We profiled that he was impulsive," his messy hair and fumbling fingers made him look like a crazy magician. "But actually, he's extremely cautious and calculated." his rambling went on for what felt like hours.

"Reid!"

"Sorry, Hotch!" he took a deep breath, "What I'm trying to say is, he's smart. He plans everything twice before acting. He chooses the victims based on their relationship with their partners, all of them had abusive boyfriends, one of the boys was married to a woman twenty years older than him, not that age means anything! But they apparently started dating when he had just turned eighteen..."

"How did we not see that they were all in a abusive relationship?" Emily sounded surprised because normally, relationships is one of the first things to be checked.

"We did." Aaron sighed. "But toxic relationships are unfortunately common enough that we just... ignored it."

"So, what do we do now?" you asked. On the way to the police station you were excited to hear what Spence had figured out, now feeling what was about to come did not ease your anxiety.

"I think some of us are going to have a date tomorrow" damn Dave and his teasing.

"Fortunately not me." Emily said while raising both hands, "I flirted with a psycho last time, I deserve a little break."

"All of them had dark hair..." You could see how JJ was relieved, she was almost always pretty much like the victims, blonde and innocent looking.

"I am too old."

"Oh, now you think you're old?"

"Don't push it, Emily." Dave rolled his eyes before turning to you. "I think you should go, you look innocent and young, dark haired and small."

"Ok, I'll go. Who am I dating?"

"I could go." bless Emily.

"I thought you were taking a break? I'll go, I'm strong and intimidating." Derek ignored her.

"Yeah I think you'd be good at it, considering you basically gaslight all your girlfriends into breaking up with you." Emily laughed.

Aaron was strangely quiet. after you walked into the room and stood behind a chair, he had taken a place right beside you. If you didn't profile people for a living, you'd think nothing of it, but you knew he did it for a deeper reason. Everybody knew you two were sharing a room, and everyone had the tendency to stand close to whoever they roomed with, you two were no different. If he chose a place far away from you like he wanted to, it would be too obvious something had happened.

"I think it's funny how none of us considered Reid." You said. "Maybe we could ask that rookie to help?" you could hear a sigh coming from your side right after the words left your mouth.

"He almost cried when Dave gave him a lesson on how to handle the victims parents, you think he can play your toxic boyfriend?" His voice was slightly raised and the word 'boyfriend' had a mocking tone. From where you were looking at him you could also see Emily and JJ exchanging a look. "I'll do it." Nobody questioned him.

The next couple hours were spent planning and then you two were being sent back to the hotel. In a few hours, after the sun came up, you would probably be going out to pick some clothes, and after that you'd be rehearsing your role. While Aaron would be acting like a complete asshole, you couldn't help but feel some butterflies in your stomach. Fake dating Aaron Hotchner was the closest you'd be to the real thing and if it wasn't for a mission, you would certainly be making the most of it.

When you got inside the room the first thing you did was take your sneakers off and find the shorts you were wearing earlier, going straight to the bathroom to change. You brushed your teeth again and went back intending to ignore Aaron, unfortunately for you, he was sitting on your bed facing the bathroom.

"Can we talk?"

"Now you want to talk? Now?" You weren't yelling, yet.

"Listen, tomorrow it's going to be just me and you alone, I thought it would be best if we talk now."

"I actually think the opposite." you walked to your bed and threw your clothes above your bag, there'll be time to fold it later. "You are going to act like an asshole anyway so if we just continue like this you won't have to pretend." you were now facing him from the end of the bed, he was still in the same position but his neck was bent in a weird way to look at you.

"What do you mean I won't have to pretend?" he raised his voice and turned a leg to rest above the bed. "You actually think I would be like all those fucking idiots?"

"No, I'm just saying it would be easier to not have to pretend this fucking awkward thing between us." if he was raising his voice then you could too, and you did.

"How do you expect me to treat you poorly when I know we're already on bad terms?"

"Aaron, you already did treat me poorly, and in front of everyone! You doubted my profile skills, you questioned my methods in front of other officers, you brushed off my theories so many times even when everyone believed them... You have been toxic, playing a toxic boyfriend won't be so hard for you."

He didn't know you felt that way, he always thought so highly of you that sometimes he felt like he needed to brush a few things off. He got lost.

"I didn't know you felt that way."

"Why would you?" he didn't answer. "You realize the BAU is not a normal unit right?" Now he looked like he was expecting you to finish talking, "Normally, we do have to trust each other and have a certain connection, but we don't always get treated like family. Sometimes we don't even like some coworkers, for a couple units I've been in we didn't even talk outside work. The BAU makes you feel special, like you actually add something to the team that no one else has. You are a big part of the team, and a big part of why I felt special... but for a while now you make me feel like I'm fucking dumb and useless."

From and outsiders perspective, you two looked broken.

"I am so sorry you felt that way."

There wasn't any answer from you, your arms were crossed tightly over your chest. Your eyes weren't meeting his but from what he could see they were teary too.

"I always trusted you, to the point where Dave asked if I was giving you special treatment on purpose. I wasn't. You have always been a good agent and an even better profiler. Your work is impeccable but as a unit chief I couldn't give you the treatment I would like to give. At some point I got scared that I would slip and compliment you too much, when we first started interacting outside work I noticed how much I actually liked you as a friend, and I had to put a stop to it before it got too far. Except I was late and went too far, I liked you too much already and I didn't know how to stop being so nice to you so I just started pushing you away. So many stories from Derek breaking up with his girlfriends gave me an idea and I hated having to do that, always hated hearing him tell me how he manipulated them just so he wouldn't be the bad boyfriend, but it worked. I see now I should've never done that and I am so sorry I made you feel the way you felt."

"Feel."

"Sorry?"

"Feel. You said felt but I still feel."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, thanks."

There was this weird silence in the room, not as weird as the other ones were but still uncomfortable.

"This is probably not the best time to say this but-"

"Oh my god! What are you doing? We finally communicated!" you groaned while dropping your head into your hands.

"-I think I'm in love with you..."

"What the hell happened with 'not sure we should act on it' bullshit you pulled out earlier?" you were sure you two would've woken the people sleeping on the rooms close to yours, thankfully they were all too busy working in a police department now.

"We acted on it anyway! We're not fucking but we acted like a married couple fighting today!" and the 'not fucking' part also contributes. He stood up but didn't get any closer to you.

"And whose fault is that?"

"What? What did I do?"

"Aaron, what the fuck? First you told me you liked me and then you just brushed me off when I said I liked you back. You didn't let me leave the room and pulled a move like I was a teenager and you were the parent taking my phone off, then later you just pretended nothing happened but looked so fucking jealous that I talked to Derek."

"Okay, it's my fault! I'm sorry, but I already told you, I like you and Derek is a fucking threat to anyone!"

"I told you I like you back, you idiot! Derek is not a threat for you!"

"What did you call me?"

"Idiot. Is that the only thing you paid attention to?"

"No..."

Oh my god...

"Are you-" no way.

"Yeah..." he whispered.

"You liked being called idiot?"

He was hard. His left hand making a move to adjust his pants, a tent making itself bigger. He looked embarrassed, his cheeks were getting red and he couldn't look you in the eye.

"No, I like you."

"You can't just do this, you know?" your head was pounding and you raised a hand to apply pressure with your thumb and index finger to both sides of it. In merely a few hours you had gone through so many emotions and now you could even feel a certain warmth on your lower belly. "You make me confused."

"I am sorry and I want to fix it." he was stepping closer to you now, "Please, let me?"

"I'm not confused in a sexual way, I find you extremely hot and all that. I'm confused in a way that I need you to explain your actions and feelings because I feel like there's more to it than you told me." your eyes were still closed and you only opened them when you felt his hands touching both of your arms.

"I will, I promise. But I can't handle this anymore."

"Aaron..."

His toes were touching yours from how close he had gotten, his hands kept moving up and down your arms, occasionally squeezing your flesh. He was so close, his touches warmed up your skin, his ragged breath fanned your face. You couldn't, you shouldn't... But he was so tempting and you were tired of holding back.

Taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch @emobabeyy

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine

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linkspooky · 4 months

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You need to make another one of those "metas written by comparing characters with another show you liked" post about Getou now that you experienced FGO Morgan/Aesc.

Time to compare two characters from two different shows I liked (in this case Jujutsu Kaisen and Fate Grand Order: Cosmos of the Lostbelt 6 Faerie Britian) to illustrate what makes a good corruption / fallen hero arc. Two of the best examples I can think of in recent memory are Geto Suguru, and Morgan le Fay of Faerie Britian. They both have tragic arcs which follow similar beats which I think will illustrate exactly why audiences find these characters so compelling.

Both of these characters have their stories told out of order, appearing as villains first before their backstory is revealed but for the sake of simplicity I'm going in chronological order, the heroes they started as all the way to the villains they ended up being.

Before beginning though, a brief lesson on tragedy. Aristotle's poetics argued tragedy runs on the principal of catharsis. The audience feels for the characters on stage, no matter how terrible their acts may be. He argued in favor of moral ambiguity in its heroes. The tragic hero must neither be a villan or virtuous man, but a "character between these two extremes, ... a man who is not eminently goo and just, yet whose misfortune is brought about not by vice of depravity, but by some error or frailty [Aristotle's Poetics.]

The protagonists of tragedies are still heroes, but their good qualities are twisted against them. A tumblr post I see going around from time to time makes the argument that if Othello (the protagonist of Othello) were in Hamlet the story would not be a tragedy because Otello would just stab his uncle and avenge his father. If Hamlet (the protagonist of Hamlet) were in Othello, the story would not be a tragedy because Hamlet who is a characteristic overthinker would probably not fall victim to Iago's manipulations and jump to conclusions the way Othello did. Both of these characters are heroic, Hamlet is a clever and scheming prince, Othello is a talented general a moor who's managed to rise up the ranks in a racist society. However, they are both put into stories where those heroic values are twisted against them by the narrative framework itself. So to make the protagonists of tragedies into villains who were evil all along, ruins the moral ambiguity and therefore the catharsis of a tragedy.

Geto Suguru and Morgan Le Fay are heroes, placed in a narrative framework that twists their own heroic traits against them in ways they can't endure. They fall because of frailty, not because they were inherently evil to begin with. They are antagonists who have the qualities of protagonists, and once were arguably protagonists of the story, which is probably why they have so many fans in the audience despite the fact that they are both of them mass murderers and tyrants.

Now with the long preamble let's look at the stories.

Both characters start as essentially protagonists, and they foil the protagonists they are fighting against during their villain phase. Geto Suguru is a heavy foil for Yuji (we'll talk about this later) and Morgan so heavily foils Castoria because they are both the chosen one.

I'm going to start with Morgan because Fate/Nasuverse lore is a pain to explain. To simplify her story, Morgan Le Fay is from an alternate universe version of Britian. In that Britian everything is ruled by faeries. These are trickster faeries who are total jerks and extremely murderous at times. They were supposed to forge excalibur, but they just didn't do it because they were lazy. This was very bad, so the universe sent a big huge guy to tell them to forge the sword. They were lazy though so instead of listening to him they murdered him in his sleep and he died a horrible death.

The faeries could no longer be forgiven for failing to craft excalibur which is a really important sword that needed to exist, so god or heaven or fate or whoever decided to punish them and sent Aesc who will later be known as Morgan le Fay.

There's some time travel shenanigans but I'm going to skip it because it's confusing. Basically Aesc's job is to wipe out all fairy life and bring an end to their alternate universe, but she decides to defy her destiny instead. The heavens or whoever keep conjuring calamities to wipe out the fairites to punish them for their sins, but instead Aesc fights against them and saves the fairies.

I had a duty to paradise, but I knew that duty would result in Britiain's destruction. This other me, though... She loved Britiain dearly, even the lostbelt version of it. I thought about it, and I realized I wanted the same thing she did. From then on I chose to live as her. (Witch! Witch! Witch! You were the only one to survive the calamity) Countless times, I stopped the calamities. Countless times, I mended clan disputes to end wars. I did not mind. It was not the fairies I loved. I only loved britain itself and the home I would make here. It would be my very own Britian - something that was forever beyond my reach in Proper Human History. I did everything I could to make it a reality. Eventually though, I realized the best way to do that was to keep the faeries safe.

However, because Aesc is not one of them the fairies are generally ungrateful for her saving them again and again. Aesc gathers comrades around her to help ward off these calamities and save people, but she's often attacked by the same fairies she's just saved.

She continues fighting the system of her world again and again, until she's betrayed for the last time in her attempt to save Britan. The final straw is when after years of hard work she's finally brokered a piece and made a king who rules over all the allied fairy tribes, only for his coronation to be ruined, the king to be assassinated along with the entire round table. The king was also her lover, Uther.

Aaah! Aaaah! Why? Why? Why? This was supposed to be the greatest day in fairy history... Everything was supposed to change for the better! BUt they killed Uther! They slaughtered my entire round table like they were trash! They asked the world of us! They thought the world of Uther! BUt now, they've poisoned him...THey were too afraid to even face him cowards. Uther talk to me, please say something! I never let failure stop me! I've kept trying all these thousands of years! Am I doomed to failure here, too! Is it still not enough? Am I not enough? Is it not... Can I not save Britain? Is there no Britain that can be mine! Peace, equality, I never should have tried for either! How dare they! I can never forgive them ever!

You see much like Geto Suguru which I'll later illustrate, Aesc is caught in a cycle where she must continually fight disasters for the faeries to save them only to be met with their continued disdain. Her own higher minded intentions to save the people are what damns her to this painful cycle. If she'd been less heroic, if she didn't care she wouldn't have suffered. She's sacrificing herself over and over again, but sacrificing yourself is in a way just suffering. No one actually wants to walk the thorny path of the martyr, you'll get your feet hurt from all the thorns.

The people who are now accustomed to being saved despite doing none of the work themselves, are by and by completely ungrateful for Aesc's sacrifice. Aesc is a hero, but she's not in a hero's story so she doesn't get any of the benefits of a hero really. She's working with higher minded and more idealistic goals in a deeply cynical world and punished for it. I remind you, she was just there to kill all the faeries and end the world but she tried to save them instead.

It's important to emphasize their good intentions, because a shallower character reading would suggest that they just came out of the womb wanting to murder people. However, they're driven to it because they tried to be good, because they tried to be a hero. They are like Hamlet, and like Othello in the wrong story. They're also sacrificing themselves going against the system of their world and trying to be better than it, only to get dragged down. Their resentment grows against the people they are trying to save, the selfish and weak people who don't seem all that grateful for their heroism. The ones who aren't making sacrifices, the ones who are just content being saved.

I finally understood. My enemy wasn't just the calamities, it was the faeries of Britain as well. They were pure and innocent in the truest sense, they enjoyed both good and evil things alike without losing either that purity or innocence. They are at their core, no different from the loathsome humans who drove me from britain. So I crushed every possible source of malice. Vested interests. Discrimmination. Oppression. Envy. Mockery. All of it. But it wasn't enough. A few fairies took a look at the foundation of peace so many had worked so hard to build ... and tore it apart, because they didn't like it, because they could.

This is what finally leads to Morgan's breaking point, to decide that actually... fairies don't deserve rights. Morgan decides that the fairies are unworthy of salvation and rather than being the hero the only way to accomplish her goals is to become the oppressor and tyrant.

I give up, if everything has failed if it has all come to nothing, then I can never believe in people's so called goodness or understand it. Even if I did, what would be the point? Everything I did, everything I worked for... was just a waste of time. After all the times they betrayed me I should ahve known better... but I still clung foolishly to a sliver of hope. ANd now, because I wasted my time caring about something so utterly absurd, I've failed yet again. If my intent was to keep britain alive, then I was a fool to think being its savior was the way to accomplish it. No more. I will find another way. A better way. ...That's it. I won't deliver the fairies to absolution; I won't deliver salvation. Enough of this faerie of paradise, enough of being Avalon le Fae, I should have ruled this land from the start.

However, as I said it's only Morgan's repeated attempts to be the hero and save the fairies that drove her to this conclusion. However, I'd be amiss to say that Morgan didn't have flaws or selfish qualities from the start. Morgan le Fay is created from the Morgan le Fay we created with from proper legend. I'm not going to explain the lore, but basically she's an alternate universe version, who received memories from the Morgan le Fay of our universe. She knows the story of Morgan le Fay who tried to steal King Arthur's kingdom out from under him.

Alternate Universe Morgan le Fay still had the same chip on her shoulder, and entitlement that our Morgan did. She wanted the kingdom, and wanted Britain for herself. Her desire to play savior might have come from that very same entitlement that she deserves britain. Similiarly, she was most likely hurt so badly from the lack of praise because she also deserves praise for her actions. She has a bit of a superiority complex that places her above the fairies and makes her believe she has the right to rule.

However, as I said Morgan didn't start out as a tyrant she did earnestly try to save the faeries despite harboring those more negative qualities and selfish intentions. She may have had a more self-serving variety of selflessness but it's more the fragility of her that causes her fall. She didn't fall because she was rotten to begin with, she was just not strong enough to withstand years and years of ungratefulness from the faeries and betrayal. She has all the makings of a proper hero, she decides to defy destiny to save the people of faerie britain when she was supposed to be their destroyer. However, because she's in a tragedy she falls due to her insecurities and flaws overwhelming her rather than rising to the occasion.

Her manga chapter and the FGO Lostbelt game prose itself uses the light in the distance as a metaphor for this. Morgan continues going forward on the faint light of hope that things will work out for her and that even as a tyrant she can save Britain. However, it's that same light that damns her. In tragedies heroic qualities become flipped into flaws. Morgan's most heroic quality is her determination, the willpower to endeavor for thousands of years to try to save Faerie Britain, but that determination makes her unchanging, causes her to make the same mistakes over and over again, and just makes her continually suffer like Sisyphus pushing his boulder up the hill.

But that light is just an insect trap - or at least that's how it is for the protagonist of the tragedy. Road to hell, and all that.

After reaching her breaking point Morgan decides she'll no longer try to save the fairies but rather only care about saving the kingdom itself. She goes from the kingdom's hero to its oppressive tyrant after seizing the throne for herself.

That's where we meet the villain we know today.

Now shifting gears to Geto Suguru, he is someone who starts out his story trying to be a hero. A little bit of context on the world of Jujutsu Kaisen, it takes place in an urban fantasy version of Japan where the jungian collective unconscious and the negative emotions of humanity create curses that kill and eat people. These curses need to be exorcised by a few special humans who are given superpowers known as jujutsu sorcerers.

There is an institution of sorcerers known as Jujutsu High, which raises sorcerers from a young age gifted with these powers to exorcise sorcerers. THese teenagers are often sent out on msisions. This is different from most stories of teenage heroes with superpower, because fighting curses is brutal and dangerous and most of these kids are going to die young. There's also no end in sight to the fight against curses, because no matter how many curses are exorcised humans will just keep making more.

Not only do they live in a cynical, and brutal world but most sorcerers are insanely selfish. Just to give an example of how immoral sorcerers are, one of the allies of the main characters is implied to molest her brother, and if she's not she still uses her like 12 year old brother as a child soldier. Nobody ever bothers to question this because the institution of sorcerers are inherently corrupt, it's an instituion that continually sends children off to their deaths and uses people as nothing more than cogs.

Caught within this unfair system and trapped in a cycle of exorcising curses that are just going to come back anyway is Geto Suguru, who is not only a model sorcerer he's presented as much more selfless than your average sorcerer. He's directly contrasted against Gojo Satoru who is kind of just a petty kid with a god complex.

Gojo uses his powers selfishly, he only fights because he's really powerful and killing curses is a way to test and use his abilities. (This is literally stated as canon by Nanami don't fight me on this I'm simplifying his motivations because this is not a Gojo meta look at the entire fight with Sukuna saving Megumi was a secondary concern he wanted to fight a strong opponent). Whether people are saved by his actions are a secondary concern.

Geto on the other hand goes against the grain for most of Jujutsu Society, and believes that they as stronger people have a duty to use their strength to protect the weak. This idea of noblesse oblige is way way different from the attitudes of most sorcerers, who as I said usually turn into petty little people with god complexes.

Not to say Geto doesn't have a god complex, but we'll get to that later. Geto is explicitly contrasted against Gojo who's the only other powerful sorcerer and his best friend, but doesn't think they have an obligation to use their powers to help anyone.

Right away we have two things in common with Morgan le Fay, number one they hold themselves to a higher minded ideal that of using their powers to act as a hero and protect the people underneath them. Number two, this is a choice they make to be better than the people around them. Morgan's destiny is to destroy the faeries and she tries to save them. Sorcerers usually just keep their heads down and do their jobs, they're not heroes, they don't save people they kill curses. In fact, the sorcerers who are selfish assholes (Mei Mei) are wildly succesful, the ones who try to help other people like Nanami die young.

They sacrifice themselves for others. Geto pursuing his higher minded ideal is faced with the same kind of tragedy that Morgan is, where his attempts to save a teenage girl named Riko not only blatantly fail, they fail because of Toji a person who cannot use cursed energy. Everyone they tried to protect died, and they're shown first hand not only does the world not really care about their idealism, but they're not really powerful enough to change this world in any way.

Morgan's lover Uther and all of her allies is ruthlessly slaughtered, by the same faeries she was trying to save after she brokered peace. Geto tries to save a little girl, and he not only watches her die, but he sees an entire crowd of normal people, the people he is fighting to save applause for her death. They all applaud her death because they're a part of a cult that believes that the girl was an affront to their god, but she was mostly just a normal teenager. He witnesses first hand that normal people do not care for the fate of Jujutsu Sorcerers whatsoever.

If Geto were more selfish he would be rewarded. If he didn't attempt to save people, if he just only cared about exorcising curses like Gojo did he'd probably become more powerful and he wouldn't succumb to despair the way he had. Geto exists in a narrative where selfishness is rewarded, and his selfless, heroic traits are continually punished.

This traumatic event makes him aware similarly to the brutal cycle he is caught up in. Morgan le Fay can't save the faeries, because faeries are jerks who can't change. Geto will just continually exorcise curses over and over again. Not only is humanity just going to keep producing more curses, but humans are vastly indifferent to the sacrifices that sorcerers (who are mostly children) keep making to try and save them.

Geto's choice to protect people is the cause of his suffering, because sacrifice is inherently taking on suffering for the sake of someone else - therefore sacrifice is suffering.

This too, leads to Geto's eventual breaking point where he lets his resentment for the same people he's trying to save corrupt him. An incident where just after seeing his dear friend die because of a curse, he's brought to a village of people. The whole village put two little girls in a cage, who were capable of seeing curses and blamed them as the scapegoat for a curse reflecting his village. Geto sees a flash of what happened to Riko again, a crowd full of normal people who don't have to fight curses applauding for the sacrifice of a little girl who was innocent. It's the macrocosm, all of society forcing a few sorcerers to die exorcising curses for them, shown on the microcosm, one village scapegoating two little girls who did nothing wrong.

That's what leads Geto to snap and massacre the whole village. He's now turned against the masses he wants to protect. He then decides that instead of protecting the masses, he's going to kill them and build a world of only sorcerers. He's no longer trying to save them, like Morgan le Fay he's turned to the hero and the Tyrant.

They both even utter similiar words.

I will never save the faeries! I will never forgive the faeries! I don't like monkeys. That's the truth I chose.

Monkeys is by the way, the word Geto uses to refer to normal people who cannot fight curses or even see them. People who don't have superpowers.

One more time I want to emphasize Geto did not come out of the womb wanting genocide. Hamlet didn't start out the play stabbing people. He does have his flaws, just like Morgan by assuming the role of the hero he sees himself in a separate, superior category to the people he wants to protect. There's a line I like in a youtube analysis for for Yuji that applies to Geto as well.

(Other people exist to be saved, which gives Yuji a role in the world) In a way Yuji thinks other people exist to validate his own existence.

Geto begins the story not seeing other people as people. They exist in a category separate from himself. Part of the reason that his failures hit him so hard, is because they disprove this idea of superiority he has for himself. He's shown his god complex is just a complex and he's as flawed and capable of failure as any mortal.

It's an inability to recognize that failure, learn from it, and reconcile it with themselves that causes both Morgan le Fay and Geto to spiral. They are the hero, they are trying to be just, they should reap the just rewards for being a hero. Geto even says as such in a moment of rare jealousy for Gojo, that Gojo is someone who also has godlike power and if Geto had that same power he could change the world the way he wants. He could create his more just world.

Morgan and Geto are characters who begin their narratives with superior complexes and senses of entitlement, selfishly selfess heroes and those negative qualities eventually lead them to fail. Geto thought being a sorcerer made him superior, he just also thought that with that superiority came a responsibility to protect others. Morgan le Fay thought she was the rightful king of Britain, she also thought that divine right to be king also came with an obligation to protect Britain. However, they're not meant to be seen as people who all along wanted to oppress and hurt others.

The key word with tragedy is catharsis, we are supposed to feel for the protagonists of tragedies. We're supposed to see our own traits reflected in them. It's their human qualities to drive them to tragedy.

After all, you reader on tumblr would probably not be able to be a perfectly selfless hero. If you saved someone and then they immediately tried to kill you, you would probably just be a little bitter about it. If you were like Geto and you were working tirelessly to exorcise curses, and all you got was your friends dying, I don't think you'd be like "This is okay :D". If anything, going mad in their extreme circumstances seems like a reasonable response, because could we as the audience do any better in their situations?

Of course the last similarity between Geto and Morgan (besides the fact they both adopt daughters they raise up to be little psychos but this post is getting too long already) is the fact that they both heavily foil the heroes of the story they occupy. They see themselves as villain, they play the role of villain, but they're really just heroes of another story.

Paradise or god or fate or whatever in Faerie britain eventually conjures up another chosen one. This chosen one Altria or as the fandom calls her Castoria is far less heroic. IN fact unlike Morgan who embraces the role of savior she would rather do anything she could to avoid Britain.

This is because for similiar reasons as Morgan, the faeries have basically abused her and tormented her all her life. Yet they still expect her to selflessly step up as their chosen one and save the day from the evil oppressive tyrant Morgan.

You have one protagonist who embraces their heroic quest, and even goes above and beyond by ignoring her destiny to wipe out the faeries and saving them instead. You have another who continually runs away from the heroic quest, and honestly doesn't seem to care that much about saving faeries.

Morgan is actually openly sympathetic to Castoria, and even offers to ally with her a couple of times because she bears the same burden as chosen one. This is another example of how Morgan doesn't quite fit the role of either hero or villain, the ambiguity who makes tragedy.

However, while Morgan does everything to defy fate, Castoria just kind of keeps marching along every step of Joseph Campbell's the heroes journey until she ends up defeating Morgan. Well she doesn't truly defeat her, but Morgan meets her tragic end and gets stabbed a whole bunch of times.

There's a similiar foiling between Geto, and the series protagonist Yuji who both start out the story believing that as sorcerers they have a duty to save others. There are several in story comparisons and direct parallels between the two.

Yuji attempts to save others with his power as a sorcerer over and over again, and is met with the same continual failure that Geto has. Yuji is the only real sorcerer in his generation that cares about saving strangers with his powers. Nobara wants money to live in Tokyo, Megumi only cares about protecting Yuji and his sister, Yuta only cares about his friends, Maki only wants revenge against her clan. Like Maki blatantly says whether people get saved or not by her actions is none of her business.

His own attempts to save people not only fail badly, but he watches people die. He watches a lot of people die in a situation where he is powerless to stop them.

He's met with the same tragedy of Geto but he doesn't succumb to it. The same for Castoria she doesn't decide to be a Tyrant the way that Morgan le Fay did. I would argue this isn't because of any inherent goodness that Castoria or Yuji have but rather because both of them are able to let go of their egoes. Yuji kind of believes the same thing Geto does, that other people exist to be saved by him. He's broken when he realizes that he's not a savior after all...but he's able to continue in a way that Geto isn't.

Yuji lets go of his ego entirely and believes that he's just a cog in the machine and he doesn't need to be some big hero or be rewarded at the end of his hero's journey.

Geto and Morgan le Fay both long for a role in the grand scheme of things. They are still employing narrative thinking, they need to play a story role to validate their existences. It's just that they flipped their role, they tried being the heroes but it didn't work so they're the villains now.

Geto is similiarly rebuffed by Yuta who is his eventual killer by saying that he doesn't actually care about saving the world or if Geto is right that sorcerers are superior to humans, he's only fighting for his friends.

I would say for both castoria and yuji it's not a matter of being inherently good people, but rather of being better at enduring than their counterparts are. Morgan le Fay and Geto try to take the world's suffering on their shoulders, and it breaks them because they're not heroes they're just normal people. Yuji, Castoria and to the same extent Yuta kind of learn to let go of their great heroic aspirations but because of that they're able to take on suffering better. They're trying to live in reality not a grand heroic fantasy.

To bring the example back to FGO, for Castoria and for Morgan the light of hope that led them down their heroic journeys mean two different things. For Morgan that light is an insect trap. Her flying towards that light just causes her to keep suffering through her sisyphian task. Castoria has a much more realistic point of view, she's not trying to get a happy ending or even save people, that light is the hope that at the end of her journey her actions will have meant something. It's more about the journey itself and the people she met along the way, then some big grand reward at the end.

Morgan le Fay and Geto both fail because they are fragile, because they are human. That's the most important takeaway of this long rambling post. They may be selfish, they may be entitled but they're flawed in human ways. After all, who doesn't want a happy ending?

#jjk meta #fgo meta #morgan le fay #fgo morgan #camelot #fgo lostbelt #geto suguru #suguru geto #idk what else to tag this #for the three people who are going to read this post #i hope you like this comun #the things i do for love

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slightlyhopefulromantic · 10 months

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a return to the monsters and mommies au designs, this time properly lined and in color! :D posted in the middle of the night just like last time though because i have problems <3 there are some small changes to these designs, but for the most part i was pretty happy with them so this was mostly just to give myself a color reference for them all lol

gonna ramble about small decisions i made below the cut, but its not necessary at all to understanding the designs! just wanna dump my thoughts somewhere :P

for the most part, the kids' designs are the same as i do them for normal canon, but there are some small differences. i've never really done a proper reference for their kid designs either though, so i guess no one would even notice LOL

freeman family: well, firstly - nick's last name is freeman in this au LOL but its easier to refer to him as nick close so people know who i mean as opposed to nicholas foster. usually, i draw nick close with blue hair (i think he goes through a range of colors, but blue is my default), but i do this because he does it to honor morgan. since she is alive here, instead, his default is pink because thats his favorite color to dye it! morgan and nick both have various bead jewelry because i like to have the headcanon that morgan is really into pony bead jewelry; this is also why all of my nick and nicholas designs have the same trans pride necklace, morgan made it for him :] both nick and morgan wear glenn's old clothes, both of them are wearing his shirts in this piece. aaand morgan has subtle heterochromia as a reference to the split timeline! she always has it, it doesnt just magically happen or anything, but its just a small nod to that.

wilson family: its real important to me that grant got his dad's exact coloration except for his gray eyes, which are all carol. why is this important? i dunno! its just interesting to me. also, carol doesnt usually leave her top buttons undone, but upon entering the forgotten realms, she unbuttons it because otherwise her shirt will pop open while she's doing things (to be honest, as a person with a larger chest myself, her shirt probably still pops open but it does help-!). usually i draw grant with a gay pride necklace, but since he doesnt come out pre-forgotten realms in this au, i tragically had to drop it. i miss my rainbow grant. please come home, baby.

oak-garcia family: i always forget to do mercedes's tattoos in my sketches because tbh i never know exactly what to give her. but! but. this time i just went for it. these tattoos arent necessarily set in stone, but i think theyre cute. the tattoo hidden by her skirt is an oak leaf for henry :] her gem necklace is also the same color as his eyes! her skirt is supposed to be, like, tie-dye or maybe more bleach washed, but i dunno how to draw that so whatever. the twins are, like, 100% the same as usual, i just gave sparrow a pink bead necklace instead of the multi-colored necklace i use for my default canon design lol. also, i think i drew the twins slightly too tall here, which is funny because theyre the only ones who are notably shorter than their mom HDFJKGHK

stampler family: i struggled a lot with what colors to give samantha, because i wanted her to have a bright color palette but not anything garish or patterned. originally she was gonna have a white shirt, but then i realized that would make it so all the moms had white shirts and i just couldn't have that LOL so i ended up landing on red for her! it matches with terry junior, so i thought that'd be cute :] terry's design is probably the most different from my default for him? which still isn't a lot but i swapped his dark blue flannel for a black undershirt instead. i cannot explain why i did this. it just felt right in the moment. i gave him a sweet revenge shirt instead of the usual black parade shirt i give him because... well. if you know, you know. and finally, terry gets a little concert admission bracelet!! i always do that, but i just wanted to point it out because i think continuing to wear an admission bracelet for ages after a concert is a very teen thing to do. i always felt so cool doing that in high school hehe

#monsters and mommies au #dungeons and daddies #dndads #morgan freeman dndads #carol wilson #mercedes oak garcia #samantha stampler #nick close #grant wilson #lark oak garcia #sparrow oak garcia #terry jr stampler

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leafs-lover · 6 months

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Too Far Gone - Part Fifty Five

A/N: I know this was supposed to be the last piece, but it was over 40,000 words and I was struggling with making it flow/ time jumps. With everything going on, it just seemed a little overwhelming and daunting, to a point I couldn't even consider working on it, so I decided to break it into a few smaller parts. There was a lot of this going on while writing, so any feedback is appreciated❤

Warnings: I didn't really proofread this so there's that, swearing, a little drinking, smut - oral (m receiving), p in v, cream pies, dirty talk, I think that's it?

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,600

The best thing to happen to Auston and Tia was the California road trip that started a few days after they got back together, not because they were sick of each other and needed time apart (they could barely keep their hands off each other), but because they could barely keep their hands off each other. Every time they started to talk, Auston would have that signature grin which would make heat would flare behind Tia’s cheeks and all their clothes would end up on the floor, or Tia would let out a sigh, but not just any sigh, a sweet and easy sigh that had Auston’s cock throbbing mere minutes before their clothes were on the floor.

Their clothes always ended up on the floor.

It wasn’t exactly a problem, but they knew that was the easy part of the relationship, and if they wanted to last, they had to be good at more than that. That’s why when Auston and the Leafs took off to California, they spent as much time as possible on FaceTime, talking.

They talked about going on a (second) first date, and the day he was back from he made good on that promise. Taylour went to Freds, and he took her to Lee’s - a restaurant Auston had been to a handful of times with his parents, sometimes with Fred and Morgan. Every time he went, he couldn’t help but think it was the kind of place he’d take a date but there never was a girl he wanted to share the experience with. Sitting there with Tia, he knew it was the right decision, because he is going to share everything with her.

They talked about telling her friends about them, and how they were going to do it. Auston didn’t quite understand why this was such a topic for them when she could walk down the hall to Becks’ apartment, or FaceTime her friends and let them know, but if it’s important to her it was important to him, so they talked about it. And the second night he was back they had her friends over for dinner and let them in on the news.

They talked about her past, her mom and dad. She talked about the rocky relationship she has with her dad, and the lack of relationship she had with her mother. Auston told her about his feelings towards Paul, and while he’d never get in the way of her relationship, he didn’t see himself having one anytime soon. When Tia told him she never wanted to see Kylie again, Auston told her he supported that decision and if she never wanted to talk about her again, she didn’t have to.

They talked about all the things they went through to get there. They had hard conversations about his past and some of the women that he was involved with. They talked about some of her personal struggles, therapy, and the way she viewed herself. The article and all the rumours were brought up, and Tia admitted that she was worried what lies people would say of her. That was when Auston realized how much growth Tia still has to do, and that while he loves every part of her and her past, she doesn’t.

But it wasn’t all deep or hard topics, they spent a fair bit laughing over things his teammates (mostly Mitch) did, or how Taylour saw a picture of eighteen-year-old Auston and said he looked silly without his mustache. They talked about school and her line, what her plan was once school ended in a few weeks, her plan for next year and the year after that. Auston couldn’t stop smiling at the way she lit up talking about all the accomplishments she hoped to have.

They talked about the twinkle Tia noticed in Auston’s eye when they were talking to Mitch about Zeus. He had been considering a dog for a while, but he knew there was no world where Taylour would spend a day away from it, which meant during every road trip Tia would have to watch the dog. Given everything that had been going on, it didn’t seem like a reasonable request, but with her mental health in a better place, school finishing soon, and them dating, it felt like the right time. And while they agreed to wait until after the hockey season ended, Tia was flooding his phone with pictures of dogs.

While discussing the summer, along came the topic of where to spend those months. Tia always stayed in Toronto, but that was because she had nowhere else to go. Up until finding out about Taylour, Auston spent his entire summer in Arizona. Obviously, he was going to spend his summer wherever Tia was, but to him Arizona made sense. Tia needed space to sketch, sew, store fabrics and accessories, and he has a house in Arizona with multiple spare bedrooms, a pool for Taylour and a backyard for the dog. Scottsdale has more space than they could ever need, it also has privacy, something Toronto lacked.

It made sense. Tia knew that. She also knew they would visit and at any point they could return. She also knew getting a few months away from fans and possible rumours would be good for them (and for her), but his parents are in Scottsdale, and there is no way to spend months there and not see them. And even though Auston told her how he felt about her parents, she couldn’t tell Auston how she felt about his parents, so she agreed.

Auston knew she had walls up when it came to his family, he just hoped that she would tell him what those reservations were. Instead, she’d change the topic to anything else, and Auston knew this was something they’d have to talk once he returned from his road trip. Unfortunately, they never got around to it, because after their second first date (which of course ended with them drenched in sweat), and the dinner where she told her friends (which again ended with them drenched in sweat), COVID-19 erupted around the globe.

The league and Tia’s classes paused, the three of them hunkered down at Auston’s condo in Toronto for a few days. They had movie nights, cooked dinners as a family, made forts in his living room, then bigger and more elaborate forts when Taylour deemed it to be “not good enough.” They were living in a (public health recommended) bubble, and everything was perfect, then came the announcement everyone knew would happen, all major sports leagues were going on a hiatus, classes were cancelled indefinitely, borders were closing, and everything they thought they knew was about to change. Instead of going to Arizona in June, it was March when they were touching down.

Auston thought being there early might force Tia to talk about all the things she had been ignoring and tried to bring it up last night. That conversation was put on hold when Tia found a different use for her mouth. He considered bringing it up after, but then she went in the shower, and the idea of his wet and naked girlfriend had him at a loss for words. When Auston finally had the mental capacity to bring it up, her snores started to fill the room and once again that conversation was put off.

“Morning.” Auston follows the voices to the kitchen, then places a soft kiss to her cheek. “I don’t like it when I wake up and the beds empty.”

“I went for a run, then our son wanted breakfast.” Tia turns slightly, ensuring the next kiss hits her lips. “Made you some too.”

“You’re amazing.” Auston mumbles against her. “But I still prefer waking up next to you.” With a faint blush hitting her cheeks, Auston turns toward their son who is wearing swim trunks, no shirt, and a bucket hat at the kitchen island, a towel messily crumpled on the stool next to him. “What do you want to do today, Tay?”

“Swim,” he beams over his eggs.

Auston chuckles. He reaches down to his plate and grabs a piece of bacon and tears a chunk off with his teeth. “Figures.”

“And see Nala.”

Auston laughs again at the predictability of his son.“You’re going to see Nala tomorrow,” Auston tells him, immediately being met with a disappointed grumble. “What about you?” He peers down at Tia. “When do you think you’ll be done today?”

“Around lunch.”

“Are you actually going to be done at lunch?” He hates how desperate he sounds.

Up until five days ago, Tia spent most of her time with them. Swimming, playing air hockey, watching whatever show or movie Taylour picked, because he always got to pick what they’d watch. Then the packages started to arrive. First was a sewing machine, then came bundles and bundles of fabric – every colour, pattern and material he could imagine. Then came a desk for the sewing machine, and a second to be used as a workspace. Next was the bookshelves and cabinets, needles, buttons, zippers, pins and clasps; then came the containers to store the needles, buttons, zippers, pins and clasps. There was a pegboard and a corkboard (which Auston learned are different and she did need both), a printer, clothing racks, mannequins, new lights.

After Auston had carried everything upstairs, spent days assembling it and rearranging the furniture so many times he lost count, his girlfriend disappeared. Eager to get the most out of her day, breakfast is always made before he even wakes up. And before he has the dishes put away, she is gone, tucked away in her office, sewing, sketching, cursing at something that isn’t working the way she wants it. He’ll bring up lunch, and she’ll always say how “she is almost done and only has one more thing to do” yet, she doesn’t finish up until dinner.

So yeah, maybe he is a little desperate to spend time with his girlfriend.

“You just want to see me in a bathing suit.” Tia teases, smirking when heat flares on his cheeks.

“I want to see you without a bathing suit,” Auston whispers, quietly so Fred and Trevor can’t hear.

Tia takes a gulp and Auston winks, then gives one of his signature smirks. His hand finds the small of her back and he holds her close, and smiles before pressing his lips to hers. He loves how easily he can make her squirm.

“Daddy, why do you kiss mommy?” Taylour asks innocently, as he pushes the empty plate towards the center of the island.

“Uh, well,” Auston starts. His eyes bounce from Tia to Taylour and on the way, he can’t help but notice the small grins his friends are making zero effort to hide.

Auston had been noticing just how observant Taylour was becoming, repeating back something he heard, doing something Fred had done two or three days prior. He wasn’t all that surprised that Taylour recognized the change in his parents’ relationship, but he was concerned about just how much he had been noticing. Did he notice when they’d disappear for twenty minutes in the middle of the day, and wonder where they went? Did he hear that comment about wanting to see her without a bathing suit, and was he going to have questions about what that meant? Did he hear some of the other comments Auston made when he assumed Taylour was distracted? How much had he picked up on, and how much was Auston going to have to explain?

“Let’s go sit on the couch and we can talk,” Tia offers, holding a hand for Taylour to clasp.

Once in the living room, Taylour climbs up on the couch, Tia and Auston taking a seat beside him. Glancing to Auston, then down to Taylour, Tia is the first to speak.

“Daddy and I kiss because he is my boyfriend, and boyfriends and girlfriends are allowed to kiss.”

“But you didn’t kiss Daddy before.”

“Daddy was just my friend before, and when someone is just a friend you don’t kiss them. But now Daddy is my boyfriend so I can kiss him.”

Taylour blinks and his forehead creases as he tries to process what Tia is telling him, evident that he is still confused.

“You know how Charlie is your friend, and you have lunch or go to the park together?”

“We go to the zoo sometimes too.” Taylour smiles and nods.

“Right, friends’ hangout and do all sorts of fun things together. Sometimes when people are spending time with their friends, they realize that they really like them and want to see them more.”

“Well, I really like Mommy.” Auston chimes in.

“I like Mommy too,” Taylour smiles.

“Yeah, your mommy is pretty awesome” Auston smiles at Tia. “And when we were friends and would go to dinner, watch a movie or go skating as friends, we realized we liked each other a lot. So, I asked Mommy to be girlfriend and she said yes, now we can kiss and go on dates together.”

“Oh.” Taylour blinks a few times, processing the information, then nods. “Okay.”

“Do you have any questions?” Tia asks him.

“What’s a date?”

Tia softly laughs. “A date is just spending time together. It can be going shopping, getting dinner, taking a walk. If Daddy and I are doing it together, we’re on a date.”

“Are you still going to spend time wif me?” Concern floods his face as his wide eyes bounce between them.

Auston chuckles softly and pulls him into his lap, and Tia scoots closer. “We will always spend time with you. With Mommy being my girlfriend, it means we have more time together as a family. You won’t spend time with just Mommy at her house, or just me at my house, there will be one house and all three of us will live there together.

They talked about what life after the summer looked like, but they didn’t really come up with a plan. They were going to spend the next few months dating, spend the summer together in Scottsdale, and see how they felt then. Maybe Tia would renew her lease, maybe she wouldn’t, and she’d move into Auston’s place. It wasn’t much of a plan but they both agreed to it, then came covid.

It made sense for them to stay together, but that was out of necessity, and they never discussed what they’d do once life returned to normal. If the past few weeks showed Tia anything its that she doesn’t want to live apart and her heart flutters knowing he feels the same way.

“Every morning we’ll have breakfast together, we can play together, go swimming or to the park, we can watch movies together, and every night we both get to tuck you in. You’ll get to see Daddy and I every day.”

“I like that.” His joyful voice coos as he cranes his head to smile at Auston, then to Tia.

“Me too.” Auston softly kisses his forehead.

“Is uncle Freddie your boyfriend too?”

A small howl can be heard from the kitchen which they both ignore. “No. Uncle Freddie and Uncle Trevor are just my friends. Only Daddy is my boyfriend, so I can only kiss Daddy.”

It gets quiet for a second as Taylour thinks over everything. Then he turns towards Auston. “Can I play with my toys?”

“Do you have any more questions?” When he is met with a soft shake of the head, Auston loosens back his grip and Taylour slides off and wanders to the mountain of toys that are monopolizing a large portion of the living room.

“He is too observant.”

They both watch Taylour grab his Hulk figurine and start running him along the floor towards his farm animal encounter. He lets out a playful scream as he gallops the horse figurine in the opposite direction, then flips them both in the air.

“I didn’t realize we were kissing that much.” Tia says quietly.

“It’s fine.” He wraps his arms around Tia and yanks her closer. “It’s good for him to be around parents who are open, honest, and able to show love.” His lips find her hairline. “I had that growing up, it helped me.”

“Yeah.” Tia takes a second, then lets out a peaceful sigh. He is right, of course he’s right. She grew up with secrets and lies, a father who struggled to show emotions, it affected her in more ways than one. “You’re right.”

“I know…speaking of dates, I’m taking you on one tonight. Dress hot.”

“Are you saying leggings and one of your tees isn’t hot?” she laughs, eyeing down her current ensemble.

“You’re hot in anything,” Auston tells her. “But I was thinking something tight…or short… short is probably better,” he thinks to himself. “Easier to fuck you in.”

“Auston,” she playfully scolds him. While it may be good for him to see loving parents, she doesn’t want to have to explain what that means to a four-year-old. “Where are we going, everywhere is closed?”

“Leave that to me. We’ll go after his bedtime.”

Tia spent the entire day thinking about their date. While they spent all their free time together, they only had one actual date since getting back together, all the other nights were spent with her friends, his friends, or Taylour.

While feeding the fabric through the sewing machine she contemplated if she should wear a skirt with the corseted bodysuit, she finished up a few days ago. Unjamming the thread, she started to consider the dress she was currently working on and if she could get it done in time. Packaging up an order from the website, she began to wonder if the leather pants with the crop top that has proven to have very good results was the way to go.

Tia is nervous, but an excited nervous.

Butterflies circle her stomach and every time she thinks about him or what he has planned, she’d feel a warm haze ripple up her spine. While it is technically their second date, and she wasn’t involved in the planning and had no idea what to expect, Tia has big plans for their date and wants…no needs it to be perfect.

When it was finally time for Tia to get ready, she started with makeup, something she hadn’t worn in weeks. It was only supposed to be a light layer, some concealer and mascara, maybe a little lip gloss but by the time she finished she had used almost every product and brush she owned. Her eyes were painted dark with wings at the side, a warm glow reflected off her face from the bronzer and the blush drew out her cheek bones. Once her hair was curled and she was dressed in the outfit Becks helped her pick, she grabbed her black robe and tightened it around her body - they were tucking Taylour into bed, and Tia wanted Auston to wait just a little bit longer.

She found Auston lying on Taylour’s bed with his ankles crossed. He had on a pair of beige shorts and a collared white t-shirt that not only hugged his biceps but perfectly displayed the ink that decorated his arm. Just as she knew what she was doing when painting her lips bright red, he knew what he was doing when pulling that shirt over his torso.

She gulps, then fills the space on the other side of the bed. The two of them read Taylour one story, then another, and eventually he drifted off. Tia kissed his forehead and tucked Geoffery in under the duvet. Auston closed the book and set it back on the bookshelf, then kissed his temple while whispering goodnight.

They barely made it to the hall before Auston had her caged against the wall, his hungry lips pressing into hers.

“Auston.” Tia lets out a strangled breath, then swats at his hand as they try to slide under the robe. “Trevor or Fred might see.”

“Fred is at Danielle’s; Trevor is watching a movie in the basement.” He explains, slotting a knee between her thighs.

“You’re going to smudge my lipstick.” She moans, using the thinnest argument possible.

“Good.” he growls, his voice thick and full of gravel. He grabs at the tightly bound bow and gives it a firm tug. “I want that cherry red all over my body by the end of the night.”

With the robe left in a heap on the floor, Auston steps back to drink her in, and as always, she does not disappoint. Little black dress hardly seems appropriate given just how little this dress is. The cut practically drops to her belly button and the hem is inches above her knees; how the tiny straps are holding up her breasts is beyond him. He utters a curse word at the same moment his dick twitches, then grabs her hand and drags her down the hall toward their room.

“What are you doing?“ She lets out a laugh. She is in no way upset about spending their date in bed, she kind of expected a portion of it to be there, she just assumed there would be some kind of activity prior to the bedroom.

“Roof,” Auston tells her, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

When they get up to the roof, Tia can tell he had been planning this for a bit. In the middle is a small two-person table, something he would have bought specifically for this. It has a cream-coloured tablecloth draped over it, a bottle of wine sitting on ice and a bouquet of white lilies is in the middle. At least thirty candles of varying size line the rooftop, all flickering with the faintest of breeze.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” Tia says softly, taking in the red and orange sky as the sun slowly drops behind Camelback Mountain.

“Yeah,” he kisses her temple. “You really are.”

“Oh my god,” she bursts out laughing and turns to him. “Does that line actually work?”

“I already have you, so does it really matter?”

Auston barely made it through dinner, he argued for them to have a “late” dinner because he didn’t want to wait any longer, but Tia said Trevor put a lot of work into making them dinner (because she knew there is no world where Auston could have prepared this) and she wanted to enjoy it while still hot. She ate slow, purposely, and painfully slow. She poured them each a second glass of wine and they talked, smiling, and laughing as the sky began to get darker and darker. But the second she set her fork down and wiped the sides of her lips, Auston dragged her to the outdoor couch a few feet away.

“How’d I get so lucky?” Auston murmurs, breathing in the familiar perfume, the scent transporting him into a hazy dream.

Tia rolls her eyes at yet another cheesy line, but that doesn’t stop him. He moves in closer to let their noses touch, followed by their lips. She releases a soft moan that he is quick to swallow. His large hand finds her thigh and begins to work its way up, the barely there skirt of her dress bunching around his wrist.

“No underwear?”

“Just gets in the way.”

Auston smiles. He couldn’t agree more.

He nudges her legs apart and continues to play with her lower lips, grinning every time she shudders under his touch. The warm glowing candles dance along with the faintest breeze. Her entire body briefly tightens when his fingertips press their way inside, but by the time he is knuckle deep a fire is coursing through her veins. She lets out a sweet little breathy moan, and Auston can’t stop smiling at the disgusting slurp oozing out from between her legs.

“Aus,” she mewls.

“Like that?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer because he doesn’t need one. He knows what she likes. His fingers curl in, hitting her deep and hard, his thumb runs in a perfect oval shape over her pulsing bead. He is thrusting his digits in so hard and so deep that she is tugging forcefully at his hair for stability. His fingers build to a pace that makes everything inside feel as though it is about to burst. His cock is hard, and she can feel it pressing into her hip.

Words die on her lips. Strangled incoherent sounds are all she can manage as the sorcery Auston is doing with his fingers renders her mute. Every stroke, every thrust of his digits and brush of the clit, its precise, perfectly placed and has the pressure inside her core at an all-time high.

Wet begins to drip around his expensive watch. He whispers in her ear works her through it, smirking when her body slumps against his. When he finally pulls his fingers out, he brings them up and taps on her lower lip.

“Open.” He instructs, and of course Tia obliges. Opening, she wraps her lips around them one by one and licks them clean. He brings her in for a searing kiss and groans at the essence on her tongue. Gently, Tia cups him over his shorts and Auston hisses, his cock stirring. She rubs harder, encouraging it to swell, smirking as Auston curses her name.

Tia gives his forehead one final kiss, then drops to her knees. Big brown doe-eyes gaze up at him, full of anticipation, as she reaches for his belt. Tugging it open, Tia drags his shorts and boxer down, until they are bunched at his ankles. Her mouth fills with saliva as he springs free, tip coated in pre-cum.

“T-“

Even though it’s soft and featherlight, Auston loses his train of thought the second she kisses the tip. Almost instinctively, his hands are in her curls pulling them back into a makeshift pony to give himself the best view. Keeping eye contact, she slowly drags her tongue along his throbbing vein before taking him in.

She watches his throat bob, arousal constricting his airway as she swirls her tongue around his shaft. Tia tries to not notice the way his hand tightens when she cups his balls or how he hisses when she takes him to the back of her throat, but it only makes her eager to do it again.

Her head continues to bob up and down. She swears she can hear him whispering her name, but between the grunts mixed with curse words she can’t be sure. Her knees ache from the hard concrete but it pales in comparison to the yank at her scalp as he spills hot, white cum down her throat.

“Shit baby.” Auston laughs.

He helps her to her feet, grinning when she stumbles on her heels. He hikes the skirt of her dress up over her hips then grabs roughly at her ass cheeks, pulling her forward until she is straddling him.

“You like that?” She asks bashfully, pulling her lower lip through her teeth.

With a surge behind his eyes, Auston uses his thumb to wipe the string of cum from her chin.

“Don’t act so innocent.” He brings her in for a searing kiss as Tia reaches down and grabs at his length, tugging at it, encouraging it to grow. “We both know your not.” Auston tangles his hand in her hair, then groans as she teases the head of his shaft through her swollen pussy lips. “You never have been.” He’s inside her in one swift stroke, stuffing her to the brim for a split second before he’s pulling back out. “We both know you want more,” he accentuates with a deep thrust. “Need more.” He thrusts again, this time earning a faint whimper which only inflates his ego more. “You need my hot cum dripping out of your tight cunt. My hands all over your body, teeth leaving marks your too proud to hide.”

“Shit…I….Fuck.” Tia can barely keep her eyes open; bolts of pleasure eviscerate her nerves.

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t need this.” He chastises thickly.

As the taste of copper floods her mouth, Tia realizes just how hard she’s been biting at her lower lip. She forces her eyes open and runs one hand up and down his jaw, through the scruff he hasn’t bothered to shave. He continues to move inside of her, smirking as the sliver of composure she’d been desperately clinging to all but fades. She doesn’t think she can speak, so she kisses him. For a moment he lets her sloppily lick inside his mouth, lets himself swallow the moans and gasps she is struggling to part with. But after a second, he puts his lips to her ear and whispers, “Tell me I’m wrong, T.”

Legs trembling, she can feel her orgasm beginning to crest. “I can’t,” she admits through a painful whisper.

“Why not?”

She can feel the smugness that rolls off him with every perfectly placed thrust.

“I love you!” Tia blurts out, unable to contain herself anymore.

Auston stops moving and his eyes shut for a second. When he opens them, Tia swears they are full of disappointment.

“Seriously?”

Tia’s heart drops into the pit of her stomach. She shakes her head, tears welling in her eyes.

So many times over the past few weeks she felt those words on the tip of her tongue, she’d look up to see this desperate look in his eyes, as if he was waiting for her to say it. She thought saying those words would bring a sense of relief, the final piece to their puzzle. She was confident he was going to say it back and now she doesn’t know if she can recover.

“I had plans…my hand around your neck, my other on your ass…you cuming all over my cock, twice, I was going to fuck you into oblivion... I can’t do that ten seconds after you tell me you love me.” It falls silent and she can feel the gears spinning in his brain. “No,” he says, shaking his head. “The first time we say I love you can’t be followed up with me yanking your hair and leaving bite marks on your ass.”

“Technically, you didn’t say it,” she breaks her silence to inform him. Unable to breathe the same air as him she pushes away and tries to climb off, but his grip only tightens.

“Tia.” He gives her a look. “I obviously love you.” He laughs and brushes her sweaty bangs behind her ear. “Just like it it’s been painfully obvious you’ve been wanting to say it for weeks.” Auston kisses her, passionately, barely giving her the opportunity to process it all.

“I have no idea what you’re –“

“I need you?” Auston mocks, giving her an amused look. “You said that within minutes of getting back together, but I knew it meant more. All those stupid looks at breakfast or the way you’d trail off mid-sentence while chewing on the inside of your cheek. I said it first last time, I was trying to give you the opportunity to say it first this time, but you were taking too long, I was going to tell you tonight.”

“Oh.” Tia cheeks pool with embarrassment.

“I had a plan.” He leans forward and peppers her collarbone with kisses. “Dinner, flowers, sunset, I was going to tell you before sex...” His hands wander around to the zipper and he sloooowly pulls it down, the fabric loosening around her breasts. “Then I saw what you were wearing and well…” Auston grabs at the material bunched around her middle and pulls it up, then tosses it aside. “I decide to wait a little bit longer.” Auston puts his hand at the nape of her neck and pulls her in, placing a soft kiss against her lips. “I was going to lean in and tell you right as I filled your tight little pussy with my cum.”

Her walls pulsate around his throbbing cock, and she shudders at the thought. “Sorry I ruined it.”

Auston thrusts his hips. “I’m not.” He murmurs, smiling widely, he’s been waiting for this for far too long.

With a loud moan – one that makes her hope nobody is on the patio below - her lashes kiss her cheeks. Auston continues to hold her on his cock while moving his hips and nipping along her warm flesh. He pumps in and out, slowly, meticulously, and passionately, ensuring to make it last.

Another wave of heat builds steadily beneath her skin, tingling all the way down to her toes. He leans in, catching her lips in a wet kiss as he presses the base of his palm against her clit. Her body is tingling, electric currents rippling through every extremity, but Auston doesn’t deviate. He knows what comes next. Following a few slow but deep thrusts against her already frayed nerve, Tia unravels like a spool of thread, and Auston is right there with her, coating the inside of her walls white.

“I love you T,” Auston says, as she milks him for all he’s worth.

“I love you too.”

With the orange sky in the background and a few beads of sweat on her cheeks, Auston doesn’t think there is a way Tia could be more beautiful. He cups her jaw and brings in her in for a kiss. They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss unable to pull away. Tia’s walls continue to flutter around his softening cock, but they kiss some more until their lips are puffy.

“Aus,” Tia whispers. “Promise that you’ll put your hand around my throat tomorrow.”

“Oh, baby girl,” Auston coos condescendingly. “You’ll be lucky if I wait that long.”

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teecupangel · 5 days

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*gets through the fireplace* Bonjour! Desmond in the Uncharted games! Because I find it funny if he would meet Nathan, thanks to them having the same VA. Adios! *uses the smoke bomb and runs*

So, for this one, we’re going for the Uncharted series is part of the AC series because plot bunny just hit me right at the face.

And yes.

Nathan Drake is absolutely a descendant of the Auditore-Kenway line. (Spoilers to the Uncharted series), it’s heavily implied Nate isn’t really related to Francis Drake and we’ll make use of that setup.

The church Nate grew up in was actually a front of the Brotherhood. His family doesn’t have ties with the Brotherhood, not really, but Sam did learn of the Brotherhood during his stay in the orphanage and is recruited.

Now, Sam isn’t exactly loyal to the Creed. More often than not, he was more in it to get the skills necessary to survive. He kept it a secret from Nate though because he didn’t want him dealing with anything related to the Templars and the Assassins. To keep Nate away from the Templars and the Assassins, Sam tells Nate that they’re last name is Drake.

Samuel Morgan was an Assassin.

Sam Drake was Nathan Drake’s older brother.

So things happened…

Nate meets Sully while Sam was in prison (an undercover mission for the Brotherhood).

Later on, Nate joins Sam in adventuring but Sam keeps any thing connected to the Assassins and the Brotherhood away from Nate.

Sam is an Assassin who is only known by very few other Assassins but Nate has some inkling that something fishy was going on, he just wasn’t sure what it was.

There were specific artifacts that Sam wanted and was okay parting with more lucrative stuff just to get it.

But then…

They teamed up with Rafe…

Sam supposedly died…

Even in the eyes of the Brotherhood.

And that is how Samuel Morgan died and Sam Drake survived the Great Purge that would happen two years from his apparent death.

So we have different points in Uncharted that we can catapult Desmond to.

2008 – A 21 year old Desmond is employed by Elena Fisher as her cameraman as they join Nathan Drake in finding Francis Drake’s coffin. This ends with them being part of the whole quest for El Dorado (the corpse of which is an Isu that contracted some kind of deadly virus that is severely dangerous to humans but Desmond and Nate have immunity due to their Isu genes). In this one, Nate actually acts more like an older big brother to Desmond and Elena joked about how they sound a lot alike.

2010 – A 23 year old Desmond gets roped into Chloe and Harry’s plan with Nate because he’s been fired from Bad Weather due to an altercation and has been sidelining as a thief using the training he received from the Farm. He also may or may not have had a fling with Harry Flynn (according to Chloe) and Nate is absolutely questioning Desmond’s taste.

2012 – Desmond escaped Abstergo before the Assassins got him and he is absolutely suffering from Altaïr’s Bleeding Effect. It’s by chance that he is in Yemen at the same time Nate and Sully are there to meet up with Elena. Maybe you can even add in that Desmond used to be Elena’s cameraman for a bit. Anyway, he joins the group because he feels like he knows the Atlantis of Sands that they are looking for. To be more exact… his Bleed of Altaïr knows of it.

2015 – Desmond survived the Solar Flare and has been working for the Brotherhood. He’s tasked with looking into a man named Sam Drake because he sounded a lot like the late Samuel Morgan and they needed to check if he is (1) alive and (2) faked his own death because he was a Templar mole like Daniel Cross. He gets roped into the search of Avery’s treasure and ends up Bleeding as Edward more than once because Edward knows a bit about this supposed treasure.

And, just to be clear, Nate does not have the exact same ancestors as Desmond. He’s Haytham Kenway’s descendant from a fling he had in England so they have the same ancestors from the Auditore-Kenway line until Haytham Kenway.

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caernys · 10 months

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i only dream (when i'm lying down)

relationship: spencer reid x reader, romantic pairing (part two)

summary: you're an agent of the violent crimes division of the fbi and you’ve fallen in love with spencer reid.

notes: also posted on my AO3 account, kitkat_katsuki

trigger warnings: vague mention of a dead body, and guns

part one -> part two

spencer reid was an anomaly and he knew it. he was used to being the smartest person in the room, a mysterious kid with an iq that could rival einstein’s– and he loved it. there was a certain rush that came from thinking circles around someone, being able to calculate equations with his mind. there were downsides, of course, but this is how he was put on this earth and he was going to make the best of it.

what was the use of hiding a mind that could remember anything? dumbing himself down to tend to others’s egos and adhere to normal standards? spencer reid was anything but normal, and he knew it.

another anomaly: spencer reid had trouble with women. morgan would tell you that that was anything but an anomaly, but morgan could get a date by handcuffing himself to a table and letting people line up.

contrary to popular belief, spencer reid knows how to talk to women. he knows how to talk to them once he’s comfortable, and then it comes easy, but spencer reid does not get comfortable easy.

he supposes it’s from his horror story of a highschool experience, but everytime he opens his mouth he finds himself on guard, closed off and wary. logically, he knows that there’s an extremely low chance that a random girl he meets at a club with the team will strip him naked and tie him to a flag pole, but he can’t help but worry about it. just a little bit.

the chance is never zero.

(also, he deals with the absolute worst part of humanity for a living, and grabriella kingston and her crazy psychopathic pole tendencies seem to pop up in every third person he meets. he’s allowed to employ a little caution, damn it.)

so when he’s following penelope, who’s tearing out of her apartment and running down the stairs, he can’t help but think about what he’s going to say to the woman on the security feed that penelope had pulled up on her computer.

the women who had shot penelope’s almost-killer, jar of peanut butter cookies in her right hand and a gun in her left, hands steady and eyes cold.

she was beautiful.

spencer had a few issues talking with beautiful women, because beautiful women looked like gabriella kingston, and gabriella kingston lured him to a football field and stripped him naked and tied him to a pole.

and it was exactly because of those ever present issues that the first words he said to you were, “did you know that cows and horses only dream when they sleep lying down?”

[][][][][][][][][][][]

the first thing you did after firing the shot was drop your gun and put your hands in the air. you weren’t stupid enough to keep holding a gun in an fbi building while wearing civilian clothes. your badge was in the back pocket of your jeans, so you slowly moved to set the cookies down and turn around, hands still clasped behind your head.

“there’s a badge in my pocket,” you said, motioning slightly to the left one with an outstretched elbow. “i’m fbi. violent crimes.”

the man behind you, who had pulled a gun from a desk drawer pretty much as soon as you had fired the shot, slowly approached.

“which pocket?”

“left.”

his hand pulled lightly on the edge of the pocket, the cold metal of his gun nosing into the your lower back. you waited while he flipped to your id picture, then flicked the whole thing to the shivering analyst who still looked slightly ill.

he examined it, pecked a few keys on the laptop, and gave a quick, jerky nod to the man. he lowered his gun.

you shifted your weight to your right foot, then solely lowered your hands. the man stepped around from behind you and outstretched his hand. you didn’t take it.

he let it hang there for a few moments before his fingers curled into a slightly exasperated fist and he dropped his arm to his side. his lips pulled slightly down at the corners, and he moved to hook his thumbs in the pockets of his slacks.

“i already know your name, but i’m hotch. you didn’t need to step in back there.”

oh, go to hell.

“yeah.” you step past him, wrap your hands around the jar of peanut butter cookies. your eyes flick over the body laying on the floor. okay— maybe it hadn’t been your finest moment. but for all “hotch” knows, you’d probably just saved his stupid life.

“you just executed a man!” hotch snapped, and you kept moving, not turning around. if he wanted, you could cite the exact bylaw in the fbi regulations that allowed you to take down an armed and clearly crazy man threatening agents inside the building. besides— you’d have to do the paperwork, not him.

you dropped the peanut butter cookies on the nearest flat surface and resolved to text penelope their approximate location as soon as you were downstairs. you took the long way across the room, neatly avoiding the sprawled corpse that was starting to leak on the carpet.

maybe you should stay and clean that up.

hotch was still yelling, and you were still moving. you were halfway out the door and going strong when something collided agasint you.

[][][][][][][][][][][]

the flying object (that you had noted and catalogued while it was still hurtling at the speed of neon colors and boas five feet away) was penelope. you maneuvered her agasint your body and back through the front entrance where she’d come, blocking her view of the body.

there was no need to further upset her.

not that penelope couldn’t handle it, of course— penelope was one of the strongest people you knew. but just becuase she could didn’t mean she had to.

just like you techinically could try austin’s gravy that she had devised from the depths of hell, but you didn’t have to. something which you had made abundantly clear.

the familiar weight of her in your arms was both comforting and refreshing. the assault of colors and the warm hug briefly drew your attention, but you could clearly see dr. spencer reid standing behind her.

spencer reid was your white whale. you say that never having read moby dick and not truly understanding the metaphor, but the sentient was there:

your elusive arch-nemesis.

the little goal that you used to dream of surpassing.

the goal you had surpassed.

the man in the stupid patterned little suit that no self-respecting doctor would wear to a charity ball. (even if it was kind of cute.)

spencer reid.

he’s cute. his fair flops almost frantically around his face, and he has a rather nervous energy around him.

you open your mouth to greet him, but he beats you to the punch:

“did you know that cows and horses only dream when they sleep lying down?”

you can’t help it. you laugh. reid looks minorly crushed for the few seconds it take you to say:

“yeah, i did. but that’s an article from a few years ago, dr. reid. they just published an update with a rather fascinating dissection of the involved rem cycles.”

penelope giggles in your arms and you push them out to examine her. “you okay?”

she looks a little frayed around the edges but nods and leans forward to nip lightly at your mouth. you smile and lean back on your toes, moving subtly out of her reach.

so maybe you wanted to look slightly available for doctor reid. so what?

reid bounces forward eagerly, shoves his fingers out for a handshake, then aborts halfway through and stumbles a little in his haste to return his hand to his pocket.

normally, you would’ve introduced yourself, but the adrenaline rush from the confrontation with the gunman has faded and the restless night you had yesterday is catching up with you.

penelope seems to notice, and starts to guide you to the elevator, looking harshly back at hotch’s cough of protest. spencer waves after you.

“i’ll see you later, then?” he asks, and you look over your shoulder.

“definitely.”

#Spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #no yn #x reader #Spencer reid #im making stuff up again #Spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

Text

secret notes part 8: send me the moon

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: It's your final live show as The Lonely Avenger and the whole team is there to finally see the one behind the voice. Including Loki.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: 2 curse words; other than that, nothing…this is a fluffy story with a fluffy ending [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: the last scene's a little hot…like 0.5/5 spicy

"Could you two drop me off near Groove instead of at the Tower?" you asked Clint as you were on your way back to New York, the mission going off without much complication, or bloodshed. You left those guards still breathing, after all, so really there were no casualties on this mission, and as far as you were concerned, that was an absolute win.

"Does this have something to do with the invite that was forwarded to me while you were in their base?" he asked you, a smirk playing on his face. "You wanna get the jump on everyone else, finding out who Laufeyson's bird is before we even get there? Vet the girl, make sure that she's good enough for Mr Horns?"

"Not exactly," you answered with a smirk of your own. "More like I have to do sound checks. For my live show." That made him slam his hand on the Autopilot button and stare at you with eyes as wide as saucers, making Natasha laugh from her co-pilot seat. "Surprise, Hawkeye. It's me. I'm the bird. Caw caw."

"How did I not see that coming?" He eyed Natasha, who you had no doubt was smirking and snickering to herself. "I'm assuming you already knew about this, Tasha?"

"I've known for months," she said casually. "Wanda and I watched her first live show. Morgan knows, too."

"Hold on how'd you get Morgan to not tell Tony?!" You mumbled Natasha's promise to the tiny Stark that kept her from spilling your secret. "Sorry, birdy, what was that?"

"Nat promised her that she'd be the flower girl at the wedding," you enunciated every syllable, making him chuckle. "Oh, and by the way. Thor knows, too." She turned her now wide eyed gaze towards you. "He baited me with a singing meme and I was caught off guard. I suppose by now he knows that I intend to tell everyone anyway so I'm trusting that he's keeping his mouth shut around Mischief."

"Aww, babes, it's really happening, huh?" She grabbed your hand and lightly swung it. "It's like the end of an era."

"Yeah. By the end of the day there'll be egg on my face because Loki's finally gonna know how stupid in love I am with him, and that's it. That's the end of me."

"At the risk of you stabbing me, Y/N, I gotta say it. I think you're an idiot if you actually believe that things would end badly if Horns knows how you feel about him. I saw you two before you boarded the Quinjet; that's a man in love. God. That's a god in love. Whatever happens in the live show, I'd put money on all this ending with you singing a whole new set of notes in his apartment that none of us ever want to hear. I don't think even Tony has the money to cover the therapy we'd need if we hear that."

You smacked him upside the back of his head. "Dork." He gave you a shrug as if to say eh, you're not wrong, which made you chuckle. "Just drop me off near Groove, please." You placed a hand on Nat's shoulder. "And please make sure that he actually goes to the live show? If I'm going to rip off a bandaid, I'd prefer to rip it all the way off in one move."

"I'll have Thor drag him out if I have to," she promised, placing her hand over yours. "Don't look so nervous, babes. Everything's gonna be fine. More than fine." She tilted her head to address Clint. "We should probably all stay out of the tower for a few hours once they exit the bar. You know, so we don't have to charge Stark's account for therapy."

By the time that Natasha and Clint returned to the Tower, the team was already buzzing with bets on who it could be, most of them already gathered around the common area clearly dressed for a party. The Russian spy made a beeline for Wanda, looking like a Christmas ornament in her sparkly red dress.

"Anyone on to our girl?" she whispered to the sorceress.

"Just Thor…he's been hinting at it since Tony found the invite."

"That's because Thor knows. Baited Y/N with a meme the morning before we left. Anyone else?"

"I think Rhodey knows, too. But he's been suspicious since before the first live show, so I can't be too sure. You two should go get changed, we're just waiting for--"

"Ah, there he is! Brother! Are you excited to finally know the identity of your lark?"

Natasha looked at the stairs, her eyes widening once she'd seen the effort that Loki put into his look for your show, wearing a form-fitting dress shirt set in his "old faithful" shade of green tucked into tight slacks that had her questioning if he would be able to even sit down without ripping open a seam, and a pair of black Oxfords. It was obvious that he spent a considerable amount of time on his hair, too, styled in a half bun that had a few loose tendrils framing his face, trying to look effortless but anyone who knew how much effort that really took knew that he spent at least 20 minutes trying to get that down right, even with his magic.

He looked over to where she and Clint were standing, his gaze searching for someone clearly absent. "Where's Y/N?"

Natasha defaulted to her classic excuse for you. "Had to run an errand." He nodded at the answer, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. "Said she'll meet us at Groove instead."

Another twenty minutes later and they were on their way to the bar, already filled to the brim with people buzzing about your identity as the unmistakable sound of your voice overflowed out of the bar and well into the queue of people hoping to be let inside.

Once Natasha and Wanda walked up to the door, the guards let them through, along with the rest of the team, and they were all escorted toward the front of the stage, where they waved at the sight of you on stage, wearing an off-shoulder little black dress that fell just short of mid-thigh and strappy gold heels.

"WOOOO LET'S GO Y/N!!" Sam shouted as he made his way through the crowd, making you chuckle in the middle of your song. "That's my friend right there!" he hollered as he clapped his hands, causing the rest of the crowd to clap along with him.

"I'll wait for the day when we finally say now or never Until then I'll be here wanting more as I settle for atmosphere"

As you began the final chorus of Send Me the Moon by Sara Bareilles, you noticed that nearly all of the team already sat in the area you had reserved for them, noting some of them trying to covertly pass around the money that they lost when they were placing bets on your identity all those months ago.

Surprisingly, the money was split between Sam and Bucky.

You shook your head slightly at their antics and returned your focus to the rest of the crowd, your roaming gaze stopping short at the sight of Loki two feet away from the stage, looking up at you with such a venerational relief in his eyes it nearly made your knees buckle.

As you finished the song, and you took in the applause, and the standing ovation from your team along with the wolf whistles from your girl friends, a smile began to grace his features as he mouthed, "It's you."

You could feel a tugging at your heart, as if your world was about to crumble, but you no longer cared. Whatever happened, even if everything were to fall apart at your feet today, you'd be fine. You'd rebuild from whatever you had left. Your experiment was done, the resolution from the beginning of the year a hilarious failure. And yet, you knew in your heart that you could recover from this.

It was that resolve that had you returning his smile with one of your own, a bit more somber, as if you'd come to make peace with an impending loss. "It's me," you mouthed back.

As the applause faded, you looked into the audience once more and spoke into the mic. "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. And this will be the last song I sing as The Lonely Avenger."

"What's gonna happen to your channel?" Sam's voice boomed from the crowd.

You shrugged in your team's direction. "I suppose I'm just gonna change it to my name. Can't exactly be anonymous anymore," you answered with a chuckle. "Maybe I'll do some drunk challenges with Nat and Wanda."

"THAT'S OUR GIRL!!" Wanda chirped up from her seat, making you giggle at her enthusiasm.

"Anyways…" You raised your iced tea perched on a stool nearby toward the crowd. "To The Lonely Avenger."

Most of the crowd raised their glasses and repeated your sentiment. You heard Tony shout "to jellybean", while the rest of the team shouted "to Y/N". What had you confused was Thor's sentiment, as his distinct voice rang louder than the buzzing of the audience. "To my sister."

You turned your gaze to the band and they began to play out your final song: "Tell Me" by He Is We.

"Take a video, Wan. We'll wanna go back to this moment one day," Natasha instructed the sorceress. She quickly took out her phone and began recording you singing your final song as the anonymous Lonely Avenger, switching the camera's focus back and forth between you on the mic and Loki's reactions to your performance.

"Eyes can only see so far Tired of wishing on Northern Stars So I close my eyes and pray Nothing comes to mind so I let my heart say Tell me don't give up…"

As you finished the song, Wanda made a motion to turn off the video but Nat's whispered "not yet" made her keep recording, and she watched with wide eyes and a slacked jaw as Loki walked up to the stage, his hand outstretched up toward you.

"Take his hand, babes!" Nat hollered, cheering as you walked over to the edge of the stage, placing your hand in his. She and Wanda where all out squealing the second her brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

"For fuck's sake, Bambi, kiss her!" Tony spoke through cupped hands.

Thor started clapping thunderously as you placed your hands on Loki's shoulders and he placed his hands on your hips and lifted you from the stage, setting you back down in front of him. On a whim, Wanda used her magic to point the mic toward you.

"My lark. My Y/N." Wanda held back her squeals as he brought his hands up to frame your face. "My love."

The whole bar erupted into cheers as he leaned down and laid his lips on yours, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him and causing you to place your arms on his shoulders.

"Ladies and gentlemen, The Lonely Avenger!!" a new voice announced as a man walked up the stage, encouraging a fresh round of applause from the crowd. "I for one am glad to see this turn of events. Who isn't a sucker for a good happy beginning?"

A murmured voice escorting you backstage to the green room was heard through the speakers, giving Wanda the cue to stop recording. Although she immediately regretted turning the camera off once she saw the unmistakably mischievous grin on the god's face as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you off your feet, walking you both towards the aforementioned room with a little twirl of your dress.

"Dammit this means I owe Morgan a hundred bucks," Tony muttered, making the sorceress turn an incredulous gaze toward him.

"Tony, Morgan knows," Natasha told him, making the billionaire's eyes widen in pure disbelief. "Since before Y/N's first show. She's the one who told Wanda."

"Duped by my own daughter," he muttered. "Is it weird that I'm proud of her?" The team shook their heads as he turned to look at the blonde Asgardian. "And why did you forfeit, Point Break? You would've won."

"I found out before Lady Y/N left for her mission with the assassins."

"WHAT?!" the remainder of the team all but yelled in unison, proceeding to ask the god about the hows of it all.

The moment the door to the green room closed, Loki cradled your head with one hand and had your body trapped between him and the door, his other hand now resting on your side, thumb gently stroking your stomach. "My darling," he said softly, the brilliant smile on his face never fading as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your exposed neck.

He proceeded to trail his lips down to the base of your throat and across your collarbone, humming a sound of contentment against your skin as he kept on murmuring your name between kisses. Your breathing became erratic as you gasped for air, your heaving chest pressing your skin even more against his lips.

You let out a hybrid between a squeak and a moan as he placed his hands on the back of your thighs, adjusting his hold on you and making you wrap your legs around him, giving you a flashback to earlier this year when he did the exact same motion to help you reach your mug at the top shelf. He trailed his kisses up to your lips once more, claiming your mouth with his at a languid, decadent pace. As if you had all the time in the world. You couldn't help but to sigh against him, allowing yourself for just a moment to be content with what was happening.

"I love you," he mumbled against your lips, pressing one more tender kiss upon them before pulling away, his grin one of obvious repletion, before spotting the look of consternation on your face and his expression quickly faded into one of concern. "What's wrong, dear heart?"

"Do…do you love me or…"

"Oh, my darling mortal," he whispered as he cupped your face and pressed a frantic kiss to your lips. "I love you, Y/N. I've loved you long before you first sang under that moniker. Long before Stark's party." He pressed his lips against yours once more and you could feel your body physically weaken the moment both felt and heard him moan against your mouth. "I will tell you in the plainest words I can find, my love. I am maddeningly in love with you, Y/N. And I wish for you to be mine."

"I'm yours," you said in a breathy exhale, unable to breathe as you felt his lips latch on to a particularly sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder and proceeded to lightly suck on the skin. "I've--fuck--I've always been yours." He had you arching into his kiss once his lips moved lower, playing at the neckline of your dress, just above your heart. "Please…please, Loki, I need--"

"I know, my darling," he cut you off, pressing his body harder against yours, muffling your moans with another kiss to your lips. "I know. But I do not wish for our first time together to be in the back room of a bar. You deserve more than that." He once again peppered kisses up the column of your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped. Savored. For hours. Days, even." Your breath hitched at the very thought of being at his mercy for hours, let alone days. "Just say the words, my love. Say them and I will make it so. You would be mine to do with as I please, and I yours."

He pulled away from you with a final kiss to your jaw, making you arch toward him again, silently begging him to resume his attentions. He didn't. Instead he simply stroked your cheek with his thumb, causing you to lean in to his touch.

"I won't kiss you again until you say them, darling," he teased. "So say them and allow us both our rapture."

"I love you," you all but shouted, the evident desperation in your voice making him bite his lip as he smirked at you. You took a breath, trying to calm yourself. "I love you, Loki." He smiled, leaning in until your lips were barely touching. "Make me yours."

"With pleasure, my darling Y/N," he said with a soft kiss to your lips. "You must know, my love. You've never been alone. You have me. You've always had me." His next kiss felt like a promise, as if he was casting a spell that sealed your fates together in that single kiss. "Shall we?"

"Just lemme get my things," you said breathlessly. With a wave of his hand, your bag disappeared from the table in a flash of green. "We should at least tell the team we're leaving."

"I believe they're aware. Or they should have surmised by now that we do not intend to return to their company for a while," he answered with a smirk. "I'm sure by now my brother's told the staff that we've most likely disappeared from this room and it's safe to enter once more, so I believe our next move is to do precisely that."

"You have to put me down, you know," you said with a giggle. "You can't just lug me around like a weird captive koala."

"I won't lug you around anywhere like a small furry animal. I intend to hold the woman I love in my arms; I will put you down only once there is a bed in our vicinity. Not a moment sooner." He pulled your body closer to his, securing his hold on you before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "Close your eyes, my love," he whispered in your ear. You did exactly that.

When he told you to open them you were no longer in the green room; rather you were in an opulent bedroom with a central motif of marble and a faded shade of gold. Looking at the view from the balcony you could tell that you were still within New York, but this was definitely not the Tower. "Mischief? Where are we?" You looked at his face and your breath hitched at the simpering look on his face.

"I took the liberty of acquiring us some accommodations for the week." The week? Your breathing thinned as he walked over to the bed, gently laying you down upon it. "Did you truly think I would bring you back to my chambers? Where my brother could so easily barge in like the brutish oaf he often is? That I would have my fill of you after one night?" He kissed his way down to your clothed stomach, before lightly grasping one of your legs and pressing a searing kiss to the back of your knee. "My darling, if you did, you've sorely underestimated how desperately I have longed for you."

You had no words left in you except, "A week?"

"Only because that is all I could manage without starting a war with our dear Captain over monopolizing your time, and leaving our team short of two resources at once," he answered you simply. "So, my lark…" He kissed the back of your knee once more before slowly crawling up your body. "My darling Y/N…" He kissed the exposed skin of your chest, just above your heart. "My love…" He captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that left you breathless. "Shall we begin?"

A/N: I can't believe the series is already over, but that's it. That's the end of the main story of 'secret notes'! I hope y'all enjoyed going on this ride with me and in true 'me' fashion, this isn't really the end. Outtakes will come…I don't know when but I know they are happening.

But more importantly…it means that I have my schedule all clear for the collab series I've been talking about, and I can finally reveal that my fellow writer for this is none other than @mochie85!!

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

Loki: @calumance @severuslovebot

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

334 notes · View notes

miela · 7 months

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Shattered Memories • Chapter X: The Return of a Hero • {Peter Parker x Stark!Reader}

Chapter Genre: Heartfelt Angst, F L O O F Y Fluff Chapter Warnings: back to a regular-sized chapters lmao Extra: next chapter is gonna be smut and it might be posted before the next update. Word Count: 3.4k

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It’s been no more than fifteen minutes since Peter left and you were in the conference room holding the Helmet of the Iron Suit of your late father. You were sitting on the table again as you looked out the window at the New York City skyline in contemplation as the ghosts of Peter’s words echoed and danced around your head.

Me, a hero, you thought.

You knew that you used to be an Avenger. You used to be a damn good one actually, but that didn’t mean that you were a good hero. Anyone can save a life but not everyone can truly be a hero. And now that you think about it, you don’t think you ever saw yourself as a true hero.

You didn’t see yourself like how you saw Steve.

You didn’t see yourself like how you saw Nat.

You didn’t see yourself like you saw your dad.

And you certainly didn’t see yourself like how you saw Peter.

You were meant to be a legacy, not a hero. You were meant to change the world through business and philanthropy. That was your place.

You were Corporate America, not Captain America.

If Peter really knew what happened five years ago, he would understand why you couldn't see yourself as a hero. If he knew how you're responsible for the pain and loss and downfall of many people because of your selfishness, he would understand why you tucked your suit in a far corner. You were doing a favor by staying in your place as an American Sweetheart and not an American Hero.

Then…if that’s the case why do you feel this yearning? Like you're supposed to be out there doing more?

You sighed and looked down at the helmet that your father once wore. Inside of it was a message that he left for you years ago that you refused to look at because you knew that it was his farewell message to you and that meant that it was final and that he wasn't coming back.

You felt that now was the time to see it.

You activated the system in the helm as a hologram came up through the eyes of the mask. You clicked around until you found the file that read "FOR ELDEST LITTLE ME" which brought a smile to your face.

You took a deep breath and pressed play. A life-sized hologram of your dad came up.

Hey Daughter number one, I hope you never have to see this message. But it’s like you say many times “shit happens, and it’s our responsibility to be prepared for it.” So I’m taking a page out of your book and doing just that. Preparing for the shit that may or may not happen.

If you’re seeing this message that means I’m dead. Or I lived and you got nosey and I forgot to delete this. Whatever. If I’m alive, delete this right now or I’ll hide all your guitars in some off-shore estate of ours. Including the one on your bedroom wall. If I’m dead then…well, stay tuned.

I’m going to cut right to the chase. Don’t blame yourself for my death. None of this is on you. There was nothing you could have done to save me and I mean nothing. Things played out exactly how they were supposed to. You did everything you were supposed to and I’m so proud of you.

I want you to live your life and I want you to be happy. I know you’re gonna love Morgan and I know that you and Pepper will take care of each other. You’re gonna grow to be this powerful person in the world just like you always wanted to be. This world will try and knock you down because you are different and you constantly break the status quo, even if I specifically told you not to. Keep being a swiftie, keep playing guitar, keep dancing, keep creating things, and keep being a little smart ass too. I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that you had no control over.

You will make mistakes, some probably as big as mine and I’m sorry that you have to be left with the mess I made in my lifetime. People will try to knock you down because of me. People will try to discourage you because of me. People will try to destroy you because of me. You will have enemies everywhere and at some point it will probably cause you to be your own worst enemy. So here’s a word of advice from your dear ol’ dad:

“Don’t give up before you can see what happens when you persevere.”

Yes, I came up with that quote because I am a freaking genius.

Remember what I always told you. “Behind that heart of iron, there is gold.” You are headstrong, stubborn and so damn rebellious but it’s because you care about others, you care about making this world a better place, and you care about saving the earth that we all live on.

And for that, you are a hero, whether you believe it or not.

I love you, 3000, (Y/N). When the time comes, I'll see you on the flipside.

By the time the message ended, you were crying. You picked up the Iron mask and leaned your forehead against it. You let out a sob as a wave of emotions washed over you.

“Thank you, dad…” you whisper to the mask. “I love you, 3000.”

You sat there and cried for a good twenty minutes before you calmed down. You took a deep breath, got up, and walked into the office of the penthouse, a place you avoided like the plague because of all the memories of Tony Stark living in it.

You were unlocking all types of bravery today.

When you stepped inside you walked over to the desk and set down the mask right in the center of it before patting it softly two times. You walked around the office and looked around at the different decor and pictures that were placed nicely on shelves and the desk. There was a picture of you, Pepper and Tony and another one with Morgan, Pepper and Tony. They made you smile as you looked over and noticed another two pictures.

One was of you and Peter.

You both were hugging each other cheek to cheek with big smiles on your faces. You noted how young you both looked and how happy you both were with youthful twinkles in your eyes and baby faces much like how you were in the scrapbook pictures. The other picture was of you, Peter, and Harley all making funny faces and wearing Stark Internship tee shirts as a joke (and as proof for Aunt May and Harley's mom that they're doing something other than Avenger's Hero work). You giggled to yourself.

"All the clues I needed, right in here in the only place I didn't look," you smile to yourself. "Figures."

You set the photo back down as a notification popped up on your stark specs.

"A message from Spiderman," FRIDAY chimed. "Or better yet, your boyfriend."

You hummed in amusement with a smile. "Open it please."

"Certainly."

Through the specs, you could see a picture of the Avengers Tower in the distance and a red webbed hand doing a finger heart at it. The caption was a red heart. Your smile widened as you faced the window, did a finger heart at it, and sent him a picture of it with a heart caption back.

You wanted to ask him how patrolling was going, but your mind decided on other things. You made your way to your room down the hall and made a beeline to the walk-in closet filled with your business clothing that you would rather keep there than at home. You walked inside and made your way to the very back and stopped at the long mirror that stood in front of you. You sighed and put your hand on the hidden scanner on the side of the mirror. A blue light Illuminated around your hand.

"Welcome back, Silk," the system said as the mirror turned around and revealed your spider suit. "It's been a long time."

You looked at the white, black, and red one-piece with minimal gold details and minimal blue LED lights. You had almost forgotten what it looked like and you were about to remember what it felt like.

You smiled. "Yeah, it has."

Next thing you know you were in the suit, with your full white mask on and your white hood up. It was just as comfortable as you remembered. It felt liberating, freeing and right wearing the suit and now you were going to put it to the test. You strapped on your web shooters and tested them to make sure that they still work. Then you made your way to the platform outside.

"Shall I notify, Peter?" FRIDAY asked through your mask.

"No," you replied with excitement and nervousness flowing through your body. "I'll surprise him."

You took a deep breath that came out more shaky than you would’ve liked. You haven't done this in so long and you honestly felt like you were going to run into a building or something. And although you can make webs from your fingertips, you haven’t really haven’t used your webs in a while either, so you opted for the web shooters that you also used in combat before.

Oh god, what if the fluid is no good anymore? You thought.

"You're afraid,” FRIDAY stated.

"Is it obvious?” You asked as you took the web fluid container to check it from the web shooter. “I haven't done this in five years."

"Just like your first time, it’s a leap of faith."

“FRI, that leap of faith could have me seeing my father on the flipside much sooner than planned.”

“You could summon an iron suit for emergency purposes.”

"You're right." You took a deep breath and put the container back in the slot of the web shooter. "Here goes faith."

And with that, you ran across the platform and dove off. The fall was terrifying but invigorating. The wind was harsh and cold but in an instant reaction, your suit auto-warmed you. You shot a web from the shooter as it attached to a building and you swung across the veins of the city. Once you got the hang of it from your muscle memory, you flung yourself high up in the sky over some of the buildings and did a flip. You could hear people from down below pointing you out and you waved as you passed by them. You smiled from behind your mask as you swung and ran on the side of buildings, careful to not hit windows. You landed on top of a building and laughed happily to yourself as your heart raced in your chest.

You almost couldn’t believe you gave this up. Almost.

"Man, I missed this."

"Spiderman detected nearby. About five blocks over." FRIDAY stated as she showed you his location.

"Thanks, FRI."

You swung and leaped from building to building until you felt your senses tingle. You land on the building where he was at. He was spider-squatting (as you two called it) on the edge and looking down at the street. You began walking quietly over to him.

"Friend detected," FRIDAY chimed. "Hello Karen."

"Hello FRIDAY," Karen chimed back.

You lay your hands on his shoulders softly and his body instantly relaxed at your touch. You sensed a form of happiness from him.

"You came," you could hear the smile in his voice.

You leaned against him, wrapped your arms around his waist, and hugged him from behind. He turned his head towards you as you rested your chin on his shoulder. He kisses your cheek through his mask as heart emotes pop up on the screen through your mask lenses. Your face burned.

"I did."

"What changed your mind?"

"I wanted to see your ass in the suit again."

Peter laughed in response. “Is that why you made the suit so form-fitting?”

“No,” you replied with a giggle. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”

“I’m not complaining about yours either,” he said lowly in your ear which caused your face to burn even more.

He smirked under his mask knowing what your silence meant.

"How long have you been staking out here?"

"Since I sensed you like three minutes ago," he explained.

You smiled and then moved to sit next to him. "I decided to try the hero thing again. If I'm gonna do it with anyone, I'm glad it's you."

He was looking at you when you looked back at him. He then moved his covered hand to cradle your masked face gently and you leaned into it as your mask showed you closing your eyes. His thumb caressed the apple of your cheek gently and you let out a soft breath at the sweetness of it all.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly with obvious worry in his voice. "I sensed your sadness earlier."

You look up at him with a covered smile. "I'm okay. I just found a message from my dad and it just kinda got to me," you explained and put your hand over his. "But I'm okay."

"You sure?"

You nodded and then stood up.

“Let’s go protect the little guy,” you held your hand. “Together.”

He took your hand and stood up. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

You nodded. “Me too.”

Both of you swung through the streets of New York City. You stopped several things from happening including petty thefts, muggings, car accidents, and children from getting themselves into danger unintentionally. You mostly assisted more than anything, which neither of you minded since it’s been a while since you’ve done any heroic justice work.

After a while, you guys stopped and got some food to replenish the energy you used. Peter settled with a sandwich while you got a wrap and you guys split your food in half and gave it to one another. You both sat on the edge of the roof of a lower-rise building scanning the streets for any suspicious activity.

"You got one thing wrong earlier," you started. "In your big ass rom-com speech."

"Oh?" Peter looked at you. "Enlighten me."

"Draco Malfoy and Aaron Warner aren't my book boyfriends anymore," you smirked. "I've moved on from them."

"Oh really?" Peter mused. "Care to share with the class?"

"Why? So you can feel some type of way about him too? Nah I'm good."

"Oh, come on!"

You giggled and took another bite of your wrap. "I'll tell you once he's ready to meet you."

He scoffed and shook his head with a playful smile. "I'll just ask Morgan."

You snorted. "She probably does know. Speaking of, she told me you helped her out yesterday. Thank you for that."

"Don't mention it," he smiled and took the last bite of his sandwich.

You looked out into the skyline of the city and scanned over its beauty before letting out a sigh. You felt the happy chemicals working through your body over time and smiled to yourself as you finished your food.

"So," you began. "I know this question is annoying as hell but what do you plan on doing after college?"

"I have a few options," Peter started. "But the two that resonate with me most are working in a lab or being an educator."

You look at him. "You wanna become a teacher?"

Peter nodded. "I love science as you know and I have a passion for it. I know it's not for everyone and some kids struggle with it y'know? so I would love to share my passion with them and show them that even though they're not good at the subject they can still get some sort of fulfillment from trying. Like the scientific method. Also, some kids need someone who they can turn to when bullies happen and when they're struggling. I'm no counselor but I could help them connect to one."

Your heart swelled. He is just so pure and too good for this world. You couldn't understand why the universe would ever want to do any harm to him when he's such an angel. All he wanted to do was make this world a better place in the best way he could.

You pouted.

"You're such a sweetheart," you pecked his lips. "My sweet boy."

He blushed. "I-I-It's nothing, really."

"To some kid out there, one day, it'll be everything."

He looked at you again and he could tell that had a loving look in your eye. You both leaned in and kissed each other softly. Kissing Peter had become one of your favorite things in less than twenty-four hours. And if you said it out loud, Peter would agree with you.

"Oh my god!" You heard a shriek from below and both of you reacted by whipping your heads around and pulling down your mask.

There was a group of three girls at the bottom of the building gawking up at the both of you.

"Silk! Is that you?!" The girl who shrieked before asked. She had long braided locs that were tied up in pigtails, dark skin, and big brown eyes that sparkled at the sight of you both. She wore a black long-sleeved turtle neck and a black pleated skirt under a hot pink corset. She has fishnets on her legs and demonias on her feet and several spikes accessories to top the outfit.

She reminded you of Draculaura from Monster High.

You smiled and waved down at them. "Hello," you sang, putting on your best Brooklyn accent.

"You came back!" The girl chimed excitedly. "Everyone thought you were dead!"

"No, they didn't," a girl next to her corrected. She had long wavy brown hair and she wore an oversized maroon sweater that looked nice against her tan skin, with a white flowy skirt, Doc Martens, a denim jacket full of embroideries and patches, and a white beanie on her head. "Spidey said on many occasions that she was taking a break due to unknown reasons."

You looked at Peter who shrugged.

"I didn't know what else to say," he whispered so only you two could hear.

"Are you two dating?" The other girl who was with them asked curiously. She had short blonde hair and wore a green crew neck sweater over a white turtleneck and a pair of loose mom jeans with Doc Martens.

"Uh, duh? Why wouldn't they be?" The Draculaura girl said with a smile. "They're, like, perfect for each other! He picked up the slack so she could take a break! That's sooooo sweet! Iron Spider Duo is the OTP!"

You couldn't help but giggle like an idiot with your hand over the area where your mouth would be as you crossed a leg over the other.

God, she's so cute, Peter thought as he blushed under his mask.

"Where are you girls headed?" You asked. "You shouldn't be walking by yourselves at this hour."

"Oh, we ubered here to this cafe," White beanie replied. "And we should get inside so we can meet up with everyone else!" She urged the other two to go inside.

"Wait, can we get a picture with you?" The blonde asked.

You and Peter exchanged looks and shrugged in a why not manner before jumping down and posing with them. After that, you saluted them a goodnight as they hurried inside to meet up with whoever they were supposed to meet up with.

"We do make a good pair don't we?" You smiled and nudged his arm playfully.

"We sure do," Peter nudged back.

After that, you patrolled some more before calling it a night. When you two finally got back to the tower, it was one in the morning. Nothing big as an Avengers-level threat happened on patrols and so you both still had some energy. But that could also be your senses being happy.

You missed this. You were all smiles and adrenaline high when you walked back in.

"I'll take a shower in the locker room," Peter smiled and before he could turn and walk away you grabbed his arm. He looked at you wondrously in response.

"Why waste water?" You smiled softly looking at him with a longing in your eyes.

Peter's eyes widened slightly as he looked at you. His wild eyes betrayed him as they traced over your body and just as you do a lot of justice in that suit, that suit was doing you a lot of justice.

He pressed his lips together and licked them as he nodded at you. You smiled, taking his hands and walking him towards your bedroom.

Tags:

@chrisevans-realwife @riordanness @peterdarlingg @thecrystalclarity @brckenmemories @paleprincesssxo @blackcanary130 @kindlover @i-have-no-life-charlie @melodicheauxxlovesfood

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years

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Whumptober Day 9

No. 9 THE VERY NOISY NIGHT

Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm

Warning: car crash, leg injury, ptsd hinted at, storms

Word count: 887

The case was over and you were driving back, there was heavy rain and strong wind that was supposed to last a few days minimum. And with the hotel you were staying at (and every other hotel) fully booked, it meant that you’d have to drive back. It wasn’t too long a drive, only seven hours. You were each taking it in turns to drive, with Aaron currently driving, you behind the passenger seat. You were lucky enough that you have been supplied with an eight seater - you could all fit in with your go-bags with plenty of room. It was your turn to drive next. You weren’t exactly looking forward to it, your anxiety had been playing up all day and you couldn’t quite pin down the reason.

Sensing eyes on you, you look up, catching your boss’ eyes flicking to you in concern every thirty seconds. “You should get some sleep,” He said, you gave a small shrug.

“I’m not tired.”

“What’s wrong? You’ve been acting off.”

“I don’t know,” You replied, “I just feel like something is wrong, that’s all,”

Aaron gave a nod, “I’m sure it’s nothing,”

“I hope so,” You laugh, “But, yeah, no rest for the wicked it would seem,” Aaron huffed a laugh. The case was in South Carolina, an unsub tryinging to ‘clean; the streets of the homeless. The man was rather easy to find and apprehend and soon enough, you were on your way back. You were only three hours into the drive, all of you running on nearly twenty four hours of no sleep. Derek had gone first, driving for an hour, then Spencer (wanting to get it over with), and now Hotch, then you, and then Emily and the chain would continue until you were home.

“You could just be tired,” Hotch suggested.

“Yeah, probably,”

Hotch gave a small smile as you yawned, “Get some sleep, I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn,” You nodded, bunching Morgan’s hoodie (that you may or may not have stolen from his go bag) into a ball, placing it on the window and resting your head against it. You were fairly sure you weren’t going to get any sleep, but soon enough, the pitter-patter of the rain against the car drew you into a peaceful sleep.

Aaron softly calling your name drew you out of your sleep, he gave you a small smile, “Your turn,”

You nodded, “You want a makeshift pillow?” When Hotch shook his head, you threw the hoodie on over your head. You jogged around the car, slipping into the driver’s seat. Waiting until Aaron was buckled in, you started the car.

Twenty minutes in, you felt tired. And sick. Your eyes felt heavy. Seeing a sign for a rest area with a fuel station a mile or two ahead you breath a sigh of relief. You were going to stop and get a coffee. A coffee sounded great right about now. Blinking felt harder, upon this realisation you opened the window, welcoming the cold bite of the air. It did wonders for waking you up.

The pit stop cam fast, which you were happy about, and you quickly grabbed a coffee, waking Hotch before you did. You made it back in record time with a large cup of coffee in hand, you slipped it into the built in cup holder. After buckling yourself in, you start the engine, resuming your journing (continuing the timer).

There were hardly any cars on the road, which you were happy about. Although, your anxiety started to worsen. You sighed, perhaps the caffeine was causing your anxiety to heighten. You turn the radio on, the volume set at two. You hummed away to the song.

The screech came out of nowhere and the headlights blinded you. The impact crushed your side of the car and you cried out in both in shock and pain from the collision. The airbag released, slamming against your chest and face.

It takes a moment before your brain registers the pain and then it hits you full force, your chest and face hurt, you feel a considerate ab=mount of pressure on your legs that causes you to wince. You head hurts and you think there might be something dripping down your face. You lift your head up, realising the team are also in the car with you. But there’s no one there. Everyone’s gone.

“H’tch?”

A hand is placed on your shoulder and your head snaps to them. Hotch. He’s speaking but you can’t hear him over hte blood rushing through your ears. “Where’s everyone else?” You watch his lips carefully, ‘everyone’s okay, paramedics are on the way’ you nod, hoping you read his lips right.

When the paramedics get there, they quickly assess the situation. The car crunched under the impact of the other car, trapping your legs. No fractures or breaks, or permanent damage, nothing that wouldn’t heal with time. You have a concussion and severe bruising from the airbag, but it could be worse.

A month later, you’re fully healed and your doctors are okay with you being on active duty. You were fine. Except for the nightmare, the fear of cars, the fear of driving, and the irrational connection between coffee and danger.

But that’s a story for another time.

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maximumwobblerbanditdonut · 2 months

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By Morgan Cormack

Published: Thursday, 7 March 2024 at 7:00 pm

Outlander fans have been kicked back into excitement mode after production and casting updates were made about the prequel series Blood of My Blood earlier this year.

As well as Harriet Slater, Jamie Roy, Hermione Corfield, and Jeremy Irvine confirmed as Claire (Caitríona Balfe) and Jamie's (Sam Heughan) grandparents in the series, Tony Curran will also join the drama as series regular Lord Lovat, Jamie Fraser's grandfather.

While Outlander fans aren't exactly looking forward to the end of the original with its eighth and final season, there's plenty to look forward to in the new prequel series, which will explore the two parallel love stories which take place in the early 18th century Scottish Highlands and in World War I England.

But has either of the Outlander series leads offered any words of wisdom going into the beloved franchise? Chatting exclusively to RadioTimes.com on the release of Sky's Mary & George, Curran joked: “I’ve spoken to Sam [Heughan] a few times, looking for Scotland v England rugby tickets, I did actually."

He then continued: "He’s just been nice, he’s a sweetheart, he was like ‘just have a good time’ and telling me about the producers, the crew and what the experience might be like. Ultimately, he was like ‘I think you should do it and I think you’ll have a great time’.

"It’s supposed to be that you’re contracted for a certain amount of years, but whether or not that happens. What I’ve seen so far, the professionalism of the Scottish and British crews up there are incredible and what we’ve shot, what I’ve seen so far looks really nice.

"The scripts are really interesting so hopefully … it’s going back in time again, 1914 and 1714 so hopefully that’ll be another [wig], I bet I’m wigged up again so another interesting experience.”

Curran can currently be seen in Sky's talked-about new historical drama Mary & George as King James VI of Scotland and I of England, a King who was seduced by George Villiers under the tutelage of his mother Mary.

Of course, Curran is also known for a variety of other roles in Mayflies, Doctor Who and Your Honor, also recently being announced as part of the cast of Lockerbie.

But in Outlander: Blood of my Blood, Curran will star as Heughan's on-screen grandfather. While details of his role remain under wraps for now, there's a lot to look forward to in the new series.

Speaking of the story, showrunner Matthew B Roberts said: "[It will] explore what lengths a person will go to find love in a time when love is considered a luxury, and when marriages are made strategically, often for political or financial gain.

"The title is a nod to Jamie Fraser’s marriage vow to Claire, and there will be several names and faces that Outlander fans will know and recognise."

RadioTimes.com

8th March 2024

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pryce0 · 1 year

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hey! could i please request going to a gala with Arthur please! preferably gn thank you hope your days been good

Private Events, Private Feelings (Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader)

a/n; apologize for the wait, and I am sorry if this is not exactly up to your standards! Also, you can decide what you're wearing.

word count; 2,318

part two: here

masterlist: here

——————————

Arthur never liked these big fancy events. Dressing up in tight, expensive clothes with collars that restrict your breathing. He never did too well in the “keep these clothes clean because they cost a lot” department. Arthur was always on the move, on the run, doing dirty work for his folks. Arthur isn’t even sure why he agreed to come to this big, fancy event. He hates the city and all the people who live there, but considering [name] asked him, how could he say no?

[Name] doesn’t exactly hate the city, but they never liked it, either. They find it fascinating more than anything else, especially the events that go down in high places. Compared to a campfire sing along and dance, going to a Gala is completely different. Different people, different music, and not as interactive. Arthur grumbles as he attempts to fix his crooked long tie that disappears halfway into the suit vest he was convinced to buy. His calloused fingers loosen the tie to retighten it in a slightly different position a few times. As Arthur looks into the shaving mirror at his tent, he can see Hosea approaching him with a soft smile. “I never thought I’d see this day come, Arthur!” He exclaims, clasping his hands together. “I never expected you to go to a big fancy party outside of work.”

Arthur scoffs as he increasingly becomes frustrated, somehow overdoing the adjusting of his tie multiple times. “Well, [name] was itchin’ to go and didn’t want to go alone,” Arthur muttered, his fingers hard at work. “They asked me, I didn’t want to say no.”

Hosea laughs and puts a hand on Arthur’s back which prompts him to turn to the laughing man. Hosea swats his hands from Arthur’s tie and begins to fix it himself, loosening the overly tight tie. “You didn’t want to say no simply because it’s [name], Arthur.” Hosea says with a playful glint in his eyes. He smiles so wide, you can see the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes clearly. Arthur felt his face burn a bit; what was that supposed to mean?? Arthur opens his mouth to respond, but Hosea hushes him as he finishes fixing his tie. “Ta-da! You’re ready, now. There’s a carriage waiting down the road from camp to take you two, I think [name] is already waiting.” Hosea says as he steps back.

“Have they been waitin’ on me?” Arthur questions, grabbing his weapons belt. No weapons are allowed, but he won’t sit still unless they’re somewhere nearby. “Only for a few minutes, not too long.” Hosea responds as he takes out his pocket watch to check the time. “Now, shoo! Go have fun or at least try to enjoy your time with [name], if you go now, you’ll arrive on time.” Hosea urges, beginning to push Arthur. Arthur can’t help but chuckle and shake his head. “Alright, alright, I got it..” He murmurs.

Arthur walks down the trail out of camp, muttering his goodbyes to Karen and John who are guarding. Arthur walks down the road once he reaches it and sees a carriage in the distance with someone leaning against the compartment of the carriage. The person sees Arthur approach so they stand up properly and wave, and Arthur realizes it’s [name].

“Hey!” They call out, waving to Arthur with a smile on their face. “C’mon, we’re goin’ to be late, slowpoke!”

Arthur sighs and shakes his head, although he’s not annoyed. The opposite, in fact. [Name]’s enthusiasm for everything that they do is charming, to say the least. Arthur approaches them and gets a good look at their outfit; and [name] cleaned up incredibly well. Their clothes are ironed, and vibrantly colored, their hair taken care of and their whole demeanor just screams “I’m ready”. Arthur blinks as his face begins to feel a bit hot, a finger pulling at his collar a tad bit. They smile widely and walk over to the carriage, opening the door. “After you, sir.” [Name] purrs with a bow, which makes Arthur huff a bit. He grumbles but he gets inside and sits down, nonetheless. [Name] follows his lead and sits in the other seat.

“I know you don’t really like these fancy events, but thank you for coming with me.” [Name] murmurs, looking at Arthur and scanning each feature on his face. “Yeah, don’t really like ‘em, but…” Arthur sighs and folds his hands together. “You asked, oh so nicely.” He finishes sarcastically. [Name] laughs loudly which causes Arthur’s stomach to tighten up weirdly.

God, Arthur doesn’t want to admit it, but he is in love with [name]. He fell incredibly hard and fast, everything they did was just taking pieces of Arthur’s heart. With every word, every moment, he was mesmerized. But he hasn’t acted on it; their way of life, the gang? Arthur already lost three different people to this lifestyle, and he doesn’t think it’s worth it to lose them, as well. [Name] brightens up camp, and they take lead, even when it isn’t recommended.

Arthur is especially prone to his feelings when they act soft and down to earth. They’re usually bouncing around camp, but with Arthur? Of course, [name] is still bubbly and bright, but they seem so much more.. genuine.

Arthur selfishly hopes it’s only a privilege he’s allowed to see.

“What exactly is.. A gala? Is it just a fancy meet and greet with rich people?” Arthur questions, ignoring the way his face is increasing in color. “It’s like.. a fancy social event with entertainment, really.” [name] answers. Their hands fold together on their lap, leaning slightly forward towards Arthur. He can’t help but notice the way their lips curl into their very own unique smile, the way their cheeks have smile lines.

“Entertainment? Like a show from a theatre?” Arthur asks again. “But only for rich people?” [name] can’t help the giggle that escapes them again, their shoulders bouncing. “You could say that..” They murmur, making eye contact. “If you get bored, you could just.. Make connections. Think of it as you trying to be Hosea, or Josiah, hm?” They nudge Arthur’s arm before leaning back against the seat. Arthur lets out a breathy chuckle from that, averting his eyes to the floor of the carriage.

The carriage comes to a slow, and then to a stop. The muffled neighs of the two horses can be heard as [name] yawns and stretches as best as they can in the compartment. The door opens, the driver looking pristine and perfect as he motions. “You have arrived.” He says in a very posh accent; or at least, what Arthur thinks what posh accents sound like. “Thank you.” [Name] says softly, stepping out of the carriage. Arthur nods in appreciation and also makes his way out of the carriage, smoothing his dress pants out. The driver shuts the carriage door and hops back onto the seat and sits there.

“Come on, it’s this way.” [Name] taps Arthur on the shoulder and grabs onto his sleeve to tug it in the direction they’re going in. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’..” He grumbles, but he makes no move to remove their grip on his sleeve.

Of course they are in Saint Denis, where else? [Name] pulls Arthur down the sidewalk to a bright lit house with a steel fence surrounding the perimeter with the spikes to prevent trespassers. A couple of police officers are patrolling about, being weary of the party and what possible violence could ensue. “It’s in the backyard, but we have to go through a checkpoint at the main entrance of the house.” [Name] explains, letting go of his sleeve once they’re through the steel fence. They smooth out their own clothing, which Arthur watches. He notices the way they seem slightly nervous; what could it be? The party, the entertainment? Is it the amount of people that will be there? He’s itching to know, but he doesn’t want to overstep. [Name] looks back at him, their eyebrows raising as they make eye contact. “Waitin’ on you, [name].”

“Ah, right!” They say, quickly leading Arthur up the stairs to the muscular men guarding the door. [Name] pulls out two tickets from their pocket, showing it to the men. “We have tickets to see the show in the backyard.” They smile, handing one of the men the tickets. “There aren’t any weapons allowed in this here venue, so we will hafta search you both.” One of the men said, stepping forward. “Do what you need, I guess.” Arthur grumbles. [Name] gently taps the back of their hand on his upper arm, giving him a playful warning glare. Arthur shrugs and holds his arms out as one of the men begins to pat him down and check his pockets. The other man proceeds to do the same to [name], who seems eager to get to the backyard. “Alright, you’re clear, sir. Don’t cause no trouble, ya hear??”

Arthur huffs and drawls out, “Sure, sure..”

[Name] swiftly grabs his hand this time and begins to tug him around the house, leading him to the backyard. Arthur glances at where their hands are connected, allowing himself to be pulled along. “Come on, we have to get a good view!” They exclaim excitedly, making their way down the steps, through a little garden area and then they are both met with a fantastic view.

Lanterns are strung up on these poles that line the backyard, lighting up the area. There are people in fancy petticoats and designer jackets everywhere, there’s even carpet on the grass so they wouldn’t dirty their shoes.

[Name] squeezes his hand, looking around for a table. “There has to be a free one somewhere.. Aha! There!” With no warning, they immediately tug and drag him once again. “Woah, slow down there, you’re goin’ to trip me,” Arthur says hastily, but he does not take his hand away like always. “Oh, you’ll be fine!” They call over their shoulder. [Name] only lets go once they get to the table; it’s a fancy round table with a very clean white cloth covering the top. Two fancy chairs sit at the table as well, with a card sitting in the middle labeled [Last Name]. “Wait.. did you buy those tickets and reserve a table?” Arthur says, furrowing his eyebrows. [Name] glances over at him, smiling softly. “Perhaps,” They answer. “I wanted to go with you, and I knew you wouldn’t refuse.”

Knew you wouldn’t refuse?

“What is that supposed t’mean?” Arthur says, taking a seat across from [name] who also takes a seat. They put their elbows on the table and lean on their hands, looking at Arthur with a glint in their eyes. “You have a soft spot for me, Mister Morgan.” They say softly, tilting their head. Arthur’s face gets pinky dizzily fast, his shoulders tensing and his heart picking up the pace. “W..what?” Arthur stutters. He knows he has a soft spot for them, one that he never clearly acknowledged in his mind. This soft spot has always been there, and it only intensified when romantic feelings developed.

Arthur hates being in love with [name]. They are so kind and so understanding, yet so authoritative. The way their hair sits, the way they smile, the way they care for others. When John had been attacked by wolves and gained those nasty scars, Arthur was selfishly jealous by the way she was by John’s side, assisting Abigail in healing him back to health. He was so jealous whenever [name] would care for anyone but him, but Arthur knows to not intervene. That’s selfish, and he can’t be selfish.

That’s why he can’t reveal that he’s sweet on [name]. He wants them to be his oh so badly, but when you live this life, you can’t have anything nice.

“..thur? Arthur, heellooo?” [Name] says, waving a hand in front of Arthur’s face. He blinks rapidly and waves them off. “Sorry, I was miles away.. What were you sayin’?” He murmurs, a sliver of nervousness dripping in his tone. “I said..” They begin, smiling wider. “I know you have a sweet spot for me. You seem embarrassed by me noticing, but don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.. Because everyone already knows.” They laugh, watching Arthur’s expression switch to flustered horror. “It’s pretty obvious.. I also have a question, Arthur Morgan.” They say softly, looking down at the table to avoid eye contact. Their finger traces the fancy fork that sits on top of a napkin beside the fancy white plate. “What is it?” Arthur asks quietly, his heart hammering in his chest. “Did you agree to come with me because.. You felt like you couldn’t say no to me?” [name] looks back at him hesitantly. Arthur furrows his eyebrows and immediately shakes his head. “What? No, no, darlin’, I agreed because I wanted to.” Arthur regrets ever speaking. DARLIN’?? Are you kidding me?? [Name] laughs breathily, and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good! I was worried for a moment there…” They say quietly. [Name] puts their hand on the table and turns their body towards the makeshift stage set up a few feet away. “I hope you enjoy your time with me here, Arthur,” [name] says, their tone all smooth. “I..” Arthur trails off, glancing at their hand.

He takes a breath of courage and puts his hand on theirs, looking at the stage as he can already guess [name] looked back at him. If he made eye contact, he would absolutely die. “I’m sure I will.”

Even if Arthur refuses to reveal his love for them, to keep them safe as he’s pretty sure he has a curse attached to him or something, he will allow himself this. Alone time at a fancy event with their hands touching. Arthur heart tightens, savoring the moment.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #fluff #gala #romance #oneshot #hidden love #soft moments #gender neutral reader #arthur morgan x gn reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #hosea matthews

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