#{ A Dark Reunion...well not really } | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloodrvvvsh · 2 months

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Needs Me When He’s All Alone. | Post-Prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer had broken up long ago — his work kept him too busy for a relationship, is what he told you. Now, several years later, when your paths cross again because you take a job as his boss's assistant, the feelings you both had buried seem to be rekindled.

Pairing: Ex-Boyfriend!Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Fem!Assistant!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), p in v sex, rough hate sex, dom!Spencer, sub!brat!Reader, afab + fem!Reader, hints at some sort of rivarly (kinda) between Spencer and Emily, face fucking, spit/drool, spanking, face slapping, very sloppy and messy fingering, hair pulling, hand around the throat (no choking), dacryphilia, lots and lots of biting, back scratching, marking, orgasm denial, praise, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, prick, asshole) + pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, good girl), creampie

Word count: 4.4K

Notes: Another PWP from me, who’s surprised. Anyways enjoy and stream Starfucker by Slayyyter ✨

It would be a lie to say you hadn’t thought about Spencer Reid since your breakup.

You tried not to think about him, but it was impossible to when you were still so hopelessly hung up on him. It was almost pathetic with the way you were always mentally comparing your dates to him, or spending the day dreaming about him and his big hands and big.. other things.

It was even worse when you considered the way he decided to dump you, too. Some excuse about his work keeping him too busy to maintain a relationship. What kind of a reason is that? It’s not like you ever minded when he was away on long cases, it just made the reunion all the more sweeter in your opinion.

But it wasn’t good enough for Spencer, apparently. You were not good enough Dr. Spencer Reid.

Or, at least, that's what you told yourself when your mind wandered a little too far a little too late at night. It was the same thought that had been cycling through your mind for the past five years. Why else would he dump you for some lame ass reason after nearly three years of dating?

That was the past, though. You were moving on and moving forward. There were more things in life than an ex-boyfriend who happened to be really great at the time. The world didn’t end five years like you might have thought, the earth continued to turn and you continued to wake up every morning.

Today was a day you actually woke up with a sense of excitement bubbling inside your chest. Today was the first day of your new job. You had always preferred the quiet hustle of office jobs and this job was exactly that.

While some might be intimidated by the idea of working for the FBI, you really didn’t mind it. It wasn’t like you were going out on the field every day. You were just an assistant, and you were fine with that. Living in DC, it was a little hard to escape all things governmental and the like, so really it was just another Monday for you.

You watched as the numbers on the elevator ticked by as you rose up. Tucked in the crook of your elbow was a manila envelope and a coffee in your hand. Your free hand fell to the hem of your skirt, tugging on it slightly to hopefully provide some more coverage to your body. The skirt was a little short, but you had paired it with some black pantyhoses to - quite literally - cover your ass. You weren’t sure how well it was actually working, though.

The elevator dinged with the arrival of you to your floor. You let a deep breath out through your mouth before you stepped out. Your heels clicked on the floor, hurriedly trying to make your way across the bullpen and to your new boss’s office like requested.

You had crossed the bullpen with seemingly no problem and you were just about to step onto the stairs when a familiar call of your name had your blood running cold.

“Y/N?” A pit settled in your stomach, dark and cold and full of horrible feelings when Spencer’s voice hit your ears. You swallowed. You turned your head slowly, like you were expecting him to disappear before you looked fully behind you.

But no luck. There he was, in all his glory. Although, he looked very different to the last time you had seen him. He seemed to have ditched his old cardigans and sweaters for tailored suits. His hair was longer, messier, and stubble grew across his face.

Unfortunately for you, he looked even hotter than before.

And even though he looked so different, so unlike the sweet and dorky Spencer you used to date, now looking more like the gruff FBI agent he truly was, there was still a softness to his deep brown eyes that told you this was the same old Spencer Reid you couldn’t get your mind off of.

“Spencer,” you sighed. God, why did he have to be so beautiful still? “What are you doing here?”

“I work here,” he said with a raise of his eyebrow. Mentally you cursed yourself. How could you possibly forget? You were too starstruck to even think properly in that moment. “What are you doing here?”

“I also work here.” You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You watched his gaze flit up and down your body and suddenly you were too well aware of your outfit choices when he lingered on your thighs. You should have just worn pants, but no, you wanted to look cute for your first day.

For a moment, the two of you could only stare at each other in silence. What could you possibly say after your last interaction being a shitty breakup? And just as you were about to say something, another voice cut in.

“Y/N!” Emily called out cheerfully. A sense of relief washed over you at the sight of her, your whole body relaxing. You nodded your head at her, bending slightly at the knees to give a half-assed bow.

“Emily,” you murmured. You held out the envelope and cup of coffee to her, giving a little smile when she took them into her own hands.

Emily’s attention turned to Spencer and you were almost certain there was some hint of smugness in her eyes. “I see you’ve met my new assistant,” she said with a hand falling to your back, giving it a soft pat. Spencer’s eyes narrowed.

His fingers curled tighter around the satchel slung across his body and you noticed a flicker of something - anger? jealousy? - in his eyes. “I have met her,” was all he said, his tone suddenly turning very curt.

You didn’t know what they were doing, what sort of mind games they were playing, and you weren’t sure how to feel about being a pawn caught in between it all. The air was thick, tense, nearly electric. Like they were two live wires waiting for a spark. You could feel the prickle of the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.

You cleared your throat, running your hand down the front of your skirt to rid yourself of your sweaty palms. “I, uh. I’m gonna.. go get some more case files that need to be sorted.” The minute the words left your mouth, you were already making a beeline to simply get out of there.

The rest of the day seemed to move by fairly smoothly. No more incidents between Spencer and Emily (to your knowledge) and you didn’t have to see Spencer again. A perfect day in your book.

You were actually almost finished with the day. You only had a few cases to be printed and sorted away, and then you were free to leave. Most had already left for the day, leaving the office vacant and eerily quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Sometimes that was better, no distractions from finishing up the last few things before you clocked out.

You stood at the coping machine, your back to the door, when you heard it creak open. You didn’t think much of it, it was a busy office, after all, and plenty of people used the copier room. You didn’t even think to look behind you to see who it was. Your mind was one track at this point, just looking to finish your tasks and go home.

You should have known better.

You knew it was too late when you felt a broad chest being pressed to your back. A warm breath fanned over your ear as large hands that you knew too well roamed your sides. It was pure instinct the way your body melted into his touch, a sigh full of wanton desires wafting from your lips.

You felt weak. You were weak. In that moment, you were nothing more than a mammal with the primal need to procreate.

Your head fell to the side, leaning back to rest on Spencer’s shoulder, baring your neck to him, submitting to him like the weak little thing you both knew you were. God, you were really going to hate yourself when this was all over. You were already starting to feel that bubble of anger and hatred forming in your chest, creeping up your throat and burning like bile in your mouth.

Your hands snapped over his, stilling his movements. His lips hovered over your neck, mere inches from your pulse point. “You are such a prick,” you bit out. You sounded breathless, needy.

You tugged at his fingers, trying to pry them off your body. You spun in his arms, turning to face him. His pupils were dilated, swallowing his irises whole and making them more akin to black holes than the warm brown eyes you used to love. His hair was a mess, like he had been running his fingers through it too many times, his tie askew. Your eyes narrowed.

“You must have something wrong with you if you think I’m going to sleep with you after what you put through,” you hissed at him. You pressed yourself against the copier machine, trying to create some semblance of distance between the two of you, and crossed your arms tight over your chest.

“After what I put you through?” Spencer echoed almost incredulously. He had to be playing dumb, because you knew he was the farthest thing from stupid.

You scoffed. “You broke up with me with some lame ass excuse, and then you never bothered to talk to me again!” You could not believe him in that moment. It was like he was purposefully trying to piss you off.

“Y/N-”

“Do not “Y/N” me,” you spit out like the words were venom in your mouth. “I am not your girlfriend, and just because I now work at the BAU too doesn’t mea-”

Spencer’s lips were crashing against yours before you could even finish your sentence. He always kissed like a man starved, like he was trying to consume you whole. You whimpered against his mouth, hands flying to grasp onto his wrists while his hands cradled your face.

The kiss grew even more passionate, somehow, becoming a mashing of lips and teeth and breathless moans and animalistic growls. You missed this - missed the intense fire Spencer lit in you, the passion that he brought into everything he did.

His hands flew down to the hem of your skirt, quickly hitching it up as you both stumbled around the room, barely breaking your kissing to catch your breaths. He hooked his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up onto a nearby table. You instantly spread your legs, inviting him in without so much another thought. He quickly shed his suit jacket, tossing it aside to some random part of the room.

Then you heard a distinct rip of fabric. You pulled away from Spencer’s addictive lips, pressing your hands on his chest and forcing him to let in some room between the two of you. You glanced down to see a huge tear on your tights and you gasped.

“You ripped my tights?!” you shrieked, landing a smack to his chest.

“Keep it up, and I’ll rip your panties, too,” he growled and you hated that the deep timbre of his voice sent flashes of arousal straight to your core. He didn’t miss the way you clenched your thighs together. He weaved a hand into your hair and curled his fingers around the strands of your hair, giving it a good tug to force you to bear your neck to him once more.

He pressed wet and sloppy kisses to the junctions of your neck, nipping at the neck, making you gasp and squirm. He pushed your panties to the side, not bothering to even pull them halfway. He plunged two fingers in, knowing you could handle it. You gasped even louder when he filled you so suddenly, your back arching into the feeling.

“You’re so wet for me,” Spencer murmured against your sweaty skin. The thrust of his fingers were hard, fast, making your head spin with arousal. You couldn’t remember the last time you had sex, let alone sex this hedonistic, but god, were you loving it. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right places in you without even trying. “You missed me, didn’t you?”

You hated profilers, and you especially hated Spencer Reid. “Screw you,” you hissed. You didn’t even notice when his hand seemed to have fallen to your ass, but you definitely felt the hard smack of it connecting with your flesh.

“What do you think I’m trying to do, princess?” He punctuated his words with another hard swat to your ass and a nip to the neck. You moaned at both sensations, grinding into the fingers deep inside you. “I don’t remember you being such a brat when we dated..”

“I don’t remember you being such an asshole,” you retorted. Another smack, another gasp from you. You glared at him.

Spencer’s fingers picked up pace, moving in and out of you in an almost messy and uncoordinated fashion, his thumb rubbing fast circles on your clit. The sloppy sounds of his fingers thrusting and your moans filled the air, creating a dizzying erotic symphony.

“You never answered my question,” he breathed out. He moved his lips to your ear, teeth grazing along the shell. “Did you miss me?”

“No,” you lied right through your teeth and you both knew it. He delivered another spank to your ass, making you squeak at how sensitive you apparently becoming with his spankings.

“There’s no need to lie.” He bit down on your earlobe and you keened right as his fingers angled perfectly to hit your G-spot. He pulled back to look you in the eye, smirking at the sight of you unraveling under his fingers. “You missed me, and you missed my dick, like the stupid little slut you are.”

The Spencer you used to know, the man you loved, would have never called you any sort of name, not even bed. Hearing that word tumbling out of his lips had you clenching hard around his fingers and whining loud, eyes squeezing shut as your stomach twisted into knots.

“Admit it, Y/N,” he whispered in a husky voice, “Admit you missed me fucking you.”

“Fuck you.” More smacks to the ass. Three in the row this time, not even giving you time to recover. Each was harder than the less, leaving your skin tingling.

Spencer retracted his fingers from your messy cunt, making you whine at the loss of feeling full for the first time in far too long. “Open,” he commanded and you obeyed, much to your own disgust. His finger plunged into your mouth and you wrapped your lips around them without another word.

You licked them clean, tasting yourself, all the while maintaining eye contact with his intense stare. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth as fast as he did with your cunt. He cupped your cheek in his palm, gently caressing your supple skin. Then he delivered a hard smack to your cheek.

Your head snapped to the right and you gasped, hand automatically flying to your stinging cheek. You couldn’t believe him. And you couldn’t believe yourself for getting even wetter from it all.

Before you could react any further, his hand was tangling back in your hair, pulling harshly to drag you to your knees. He made quick work of his belt and unbuttoned his pants, fishing his hard dick out of its confines. Your mouth watered at the sight. It was so big, so pretty with its pale pink head and veins trailing along the sides.

Spencer chuckled at the hungry look in your eyes. “You missed this, didn’t you, baby?” he cooed at you. You found yourself nodding your head. He wrapped a hand around his cock, giving it a few lazy tugs. His thumb swiped at the tip, smearing the pre-cum gathering with a soft hiss.

He hovered it over your lips, teasing you. And in that moment, you weren’t above whining, which is exactly what you did. “Poor baby missed choking on my big dick, didn’t she?” Fake sympathy dripped from his words, making you feel oh-so dizzy and small. You nodded your head again, more frantically and desperate this time.

“Go ahead,” he urged, reaching a hand to the back of your head and pushing you forward, “Suck it, pretty girl.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You braced your palms on his thighs as you stuck your tongue out, flickering it over the tip of Spencer’s cock. His fingers carded through your hair and you nearly melted.

You licked a broad stride along the underside of his dick and you shivered at the groan you earned in response. You took the tip into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks around him as you made your way down his cock.

“Fuck,” Spencer breathed out. His eyes fluttered shut, hips involuntarily rocking into your throat. He’d never admit it himself, but nothing could compare to your sweet mouth. He had spent more than a few countless nights dreaming about it wrapped around him once more.

You took his little curse and movements as encouragement, swallowing even more of him. You could never quite fit the entirety of him in your mouth, but it never stopped you from trying.

Spencer took a fistful of your locks in his hand, tugging hard at the strands, and you winced at the pain radiating from your scalp. Lust flared down your spine, electrifying your body as he forced his cock all the way in your mouth. You choked around the intruding object in your throat, contracting around him and making him moan.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he crooned. His other hand cupped your face, thumb stroking your cheek as your eyes watered. He brushed away a tear that spilled down with a grin full of sadistic glee. “You look so pretty like this.. Your mouth has better uses than being a brat, don’t you think, pretty girl?”

He pulled you off his cock, leaving you to gag and heave heavy breaths. He clicked his tongue, faux pouting down at you. “Can’t handle it?” He didn’t give you any time to respond before he was pulling back down on his dick, pushing your head down until his pubes tickled your nose. “That’s too fucking bad.”

He repeated his motions, thrusting into your mouth violently until you got that dazed look in your eyes. Drool spilled from the corners of your lips and all over his cock. Praises from his lips, creating a chorus between his groans and moans of pure pleasure.

When you felt like you were seriously going to lose your mind from lack of oxygen, Spencer pulled out finally. You panted, dizzy and delirious, but so fucking horny. You whimpered when he guided you away from his dick, your bottom lip sticking out in a genuine pout.

He spun you around before you bending over the same table from earlier. You gasped, a sense of excitement bubbling in your stomach when you realized what was to come. His hands fell to your hips and you pushed your ass back against him, wiggling it with a pitiful whine. You glanced back at him over your shoulder and you were sure that you looked like some sort of pathetic slut, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

“Someone’s eager,” Spencer remarked with a chuckle. But he was just as ready to screw your brains out.

He guided his cock to your soaking wet folds, taking a moment to smear your wetness around with his tip, up until you started whining again. He chuckled once more before finally entering you.

Your jaw fell slack as his cock entered you, stretching you to your limits. He was so fucking big, stretching you so deliciously and filling you up in a ways that couldn’t possibly be replicated.

“There you go,” Spencer murmured. He leaned forward, pressing his chest to your back firmly. “That’s what you’ve been craving, haven’t you, princess? Just needed some dick to turn your pretty little brain off.”

His hand snaked around to wrap his fingers around your throat. Not squeezing, rather just resting there, reminding you of your place, of his power over you. He continued to push until he bottomed out inside you and you both keened. How could you have ever broken up when you fit together so perfectly?

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, baby,” he hissed right into your ear. “Your pretty pussy definitely missed me, didn’t it?” His other hand landed on your ass once more and he delivered a hard smack on the available skin. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart, such a good fuckin’ girl..”

He pulled back slightly, roughly halfway, before slamming into you hard enough to make the table slam against the wall. Then he repeated himself, one rough thrust after the other. You felt so braindead in that moment, gone in your own head with pleasure, that you could moan and babble.

“Feels so good, Spence,” you whined, trying to grind your hips back against him. “Fuck, it’s so good, so good, please don’t stop, please, please-” You cut yourself with a heady moan when he slammed into you with force.

“Cockdrunk whore,” Spencer hissed into your ear and you could only nod. His hand moved from your ass to tracing your labia before finding his target - your throbbing and neglected clit. He rubbed hard and fast circles around the swollen nub and you nearly sobbed.

His lips drifted to your neck and began peppering every inch of your skin in kisses. Some light, some sloppy and messy, nearly bruising with the force of them. Your head fell forward, hair falling all over your face and sticking to your sweaty skin. Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill down your flushed cheeks.

Then came Spencer’s teeth, grazing along your neck before biting down, hard. You squeaked, hands curling around the edge of the table until your knuckles turned white. Your cunt clenched, sucking him in even deeper. His groan rumbled deep in your chest.

“Taking me so fucking good, baby, such a good girl for me,” he mumbled against your skin. He picked up his thrusts, hips slamming hard against yours. The circles on your clit increased in their pace, as well, the coil in your stomach burning hot and heavy.

“Spencer,” you nearly shrieked. “Spencer, I’m gonna- Shit! I’m gonna cum, Spencer!”

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” His words were nearly a growl, deep and low and so fucking sexy. “You gonna cum?” He landed a harsh slap against your pussy and you almost screamed once more.

Spencer pulled out suddenly, leaving just as empty as you were earlier. Your eyes shot wide open, whines tumbling from your lips, distraught at being denied your precious orgasm. He was spinning around you once more, crashing your lips together.

You moaned into the kiss, arms hurried wrapping around his broad shoulders. His hands fell to your thighs, lifting you up and into his arms, making you squeak. When did he get so.. strong?

You didn’t have much time to ponder over Spencer’s sudden display of strength because your back was practically tossed against a nearby wall. He pulled apart from the kiss to take his cock into his hand again, guiding it towards your dripping cunt again.

Your nails dug into his back as he stretched you open on his cock again, head falling back and hitting the wall. His lips were attached to your lips again, suckling and biting to leave behind millions of different marks.

“So big,” you slurred. Your voice sounded almost foreign to yourself - high-pitched and whiny. “Filling me so good, Spence, it’s so good.” Tears had begun to cascade down your face, streaking your mascara and leaving thick tracks of black on your cheeks. Spencer had never seen you look more beautiful than in that moment.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N,” he praised between heavy pants. “Taking me so good, so good, like the stupid fucking slut you are.” His hand made contact with your face again, leaving a red mark in its wake and leaving your skin feeling electric. Your walls squeezed around him.

“You like that, huh?” he did again and you moaned loudly, unashamed now. “You like being smacked around, huh? Like being treated like the filthy lil’ whore you are? Is that right, princess?” He repeated himself, smacking you once, twice, three times and each you clenched around him.

Your orgasmed barreled over you before you could have possibly processed it. Your eyes squeezed shut, stars popping in your vision, legs shaking. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as pleasure washed over you in waves near akin to a tsunami in your body.

Spencer fell right over the edge right after you, teeth sinking down into your shoulder with a heavy groan. Sprouts of hot cum flooded your insides and you whined at the feeling of overstimulation washing over you.

You both stilled for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, panting heavily together. Slowly, Spencer pulled out his softening cock out of you, and you whined for the final time at being so empty. Your cunt clenched around nothing for a few seconds before beginning to seep Spencer’s seed, dripping down your thigh and onto the carpet.

You felt a bit bad for the janitor who would have to clean up your messes.

Spencer grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your head to look back at him. His lips met yours in another kiss, this time much softer and full of something you might describe as affection.

When you pulled apart, he smiled at you. “So good for me.” He was breathless, and you couldn’t blame him.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you again. Spencer cleared his throat before adding, “Did you, uh.. want a ride back to my place? I still have some of your clothes at my apartment, you could shower and change..” he trailed off, teeth catching his bottom lip. There was a hint of a pleading look in his eyes and your heart clenched at the sight. You could never say no to his puppy eyes.

“Only if you take me out to dinner after.”

“Deal.”

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total-dxmure · 9 months

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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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the-tarot-witch22 · 23 days

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Messages from your Higher Self - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - the hermit, queen of wands and the moon)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and hear is, your higher is very self accomplished as well as happy within themself , they found the very thing they want, their love for themself, they stand up for themself, they fight without hesitating for themselves and their loved ones, your higher self is also very selective on who they let into their lives, they re vary of people at first and only trust after they know them, your higher self seems to be at peace, they like their alone time a lot, they value and love themselves, their might be something important happening in winter weather their just something about that, was so prominent, but anyways, their might be a period of darkness in your life, where you felt alone with the people, or they were just not for you but I see it getting better for you in future, you seem to be finding yourself and your light, i see lots of laughter and happiness in your life, you might be entering into your power era "bad ass vibe", going out of your comfort zone doing things you really like and enjoy, i see you being more confident in your body and self image, your higher self is also very sexy and seductive very confident but also a bit mysterious not letting anything get to them, and only opening up when it's necessary, your higher self is also very transformed. I also feel your higher self is very intuitive and have psychic powers which they are working on to enhance, They did not tell me everything, they just said "stick around and find out", "keep going and don't give up", I also feel your higher self is way more matured, very gentle and kind!

Okay so that's it pile 1, i loved reading for you, such beautiful reassuring messages for you! I just wanna say love yourself and live your life to the fullest~

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 4 of wands, knight of pentacles, page of cups and 9 of pentacles)

Okay so the very first thing i hear is "wedding bells" gosh what a opening to the reading, isn't it? so cute, but anyways let's focus, okay so i feel your higher self is very happily married with the love of your life, i see someone with nothing but tears of joy! 11:11, 1111, 22:22, 2222, 444, are some angel numbers i keep hearing so it might be of importance to you, maybe you see these numbers quite a lot from past few days, I heard your higher self say, we are, where we supposed to be, such a reassuring message for you pile 2, you higher self seems content with themself and their choices, i also heard "there might some blockages happened , but those are just hurdles, and you will pass them", here another message that your higher seems very successful! Your higher self seems loved and admired from people close, there might be someone with bad intentions but i see you guys being careful, your higher self said "only trust the ones, if your gut says so", there might be a big reunion or gathering of sort for you guys, and they enjoyed that, a graduation? or just some celebration, but yeah!, I also feel your higher self climbed the ladder of success and money, they have everything, they seem happy, but i also see a bit of materialistic vibes from this group, i also heard "luxury", so your higher self seems to be worked for it, and they bought the things they love, this group might also be very independent, and have to grow very early mature beyond their years type of vibe, but i see you got the "i am gonna do it for you, let me do it for you husband/wife", your struggles seems to be paid of, your higher self is also very proud of your growth, for some of you i got flirty vibes even tho you are not trying to be lol x, very young at heart, your higher self seems to be very happy and travelled a lot, they are working or studying abroad , or just travelling there, your higher self is so sweet, telling me everything gently, i love that!

That's all pile 2, your higher self seems very sweet and matured, and plus they are happy with you and your growth! The messages are so sweet, i just want to remind you guys "you are beautiful"!

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - knight of pentacles, the magician and queen of cups)

Okay so the first thing i heard and feel for you guys is you guys seems to be very comfy and relaxed, your higher self is taking it easy one step at the time, i also heard "don't doom scroll too much", "time is important", I also feel your higher self is taking care of their health a lot, working out going to gym , yoga, dance classes, i also heard "you have potential , do use it, be not afraid to fail", your higher self is also quite grown, like became wise, "i heard - some lessons were important to go through", i feel they are also telling you that past and mistakes, were not entirely your fault, even if it was and you learnt from that, i get friendly vibes from you guys and as well your higher self, so adorable lol, anyways, your higher self is very self accomplished, just like pile 1, i feel there might be messages for you so do check that pile too, your higher self has a good stable job career, i am getting earth and fire sign vibes from this pile, especially Capricorn sun and Sagittarius sun/rising, I also feel your higher self is very passionate!, you higher self seems to be working hard for their goals too, and using their skills for their own and their career, i also heard "infinite abundance", this could indicate you living a good life! very stable and fulfilling life, you guys, your higher self is also very satisfied~, i also feel your higher self is more emotionally mature or express themself without the fear of judgement! you and your higher self seems so nurturing and caring, i also feel your higher self has a pet, like a life long dream and you finally adopt one!

That's all pile 3, amazing and sweet messages from your higher self, love that for you~

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

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taesanrot · 4 months

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[thinkin bout you] taesan x f!reader | 5.8k words high school au, childhood friends 2 lovers, slight e2l, fake dating, first kiss, moving away and reunion kinda ???, also bffs 2 lovers ish, smut at the end note. happy (late) birthday to my lovely kay <333 hope u love it my cherry pie. sorry to everyone for how long this took, finishing this fic almost broke me. (and yes heres another taesan fic for the anon who was asking). also highly recommend listening to steve lacy while reading this, the plot was v inspired by infrunami and the entire lo-fis album :]

the first time you met taesan, he didn't give the grandest first impression. not that you really expected to be blown away by a six year old boy, but meeting him while he was covered in mud wasn't what you were anticipating either.

your family had just moved next to the boy's house, and as you picked dandelions and flowers from the front yard to collect and keep, you couldn't help but notice a young boy playing in the garden of the house next door. turning to see you, the boy giddily bounded over to you, introducing himself joyfully.

you should've been nicer; he was just another little boy enjoying the breezy summer day, but you couldn't help scrunching your nose as you eyed him up and down. his knees were green with grass stains and his arms and legs were covered with swipes of dirt, a bit of mud sticking to his cheek.

within a minute, his mother noticed her son poking his nose outside of the yard and came over to collect him, chiding his dirtiness and sending him back to his own abode. taesan pouted for less than a second before smiling brightly at you, waving happily as he ran back to his house. you frowned slightly at his bright demeanor.

although you were the same age as taesan, something both of your mothers were delighted by, you considered yourself more mature and too grown up for kiddish activities, and this logic applied to others your age as well.

growing up as well, you found boys to be immature and difficult creatures, always finding yourself repelled by their confusing antics. taesan was just any other boy to you, childish and juvenile.

despite your obvious disdain towards the young boy, your families still spent a great deal of time together. they were always encouraging the two of you to get along; you never had any of it.

taesan caught onto this attitude pretty quickly as well, wondering why you didn't like him. he decided he'd rather play with his toy cars and lay in the grass than dwell on it though.

this was how your dynamic was, the two of you in an unspoken agreement that it would be better to just leave each other alone.

you saw less and less of taesan after his parents decided to enroll him in a private school to finish out his middle and high school years. to be honest, you couldn't have cared less -- your childish neighbor was far from your mind as you immersed yourself in your high school sports, particularly enjoying volleyball and swimming.

being on both teams for your school and trying to keep your grades up took up the majority of your time, meaning you hadn't exactly experienced the infamous teenage romance, as your parents liked to call it.

you didn't know why your parents cared about your love life so much. you felt perfectly content with your school activities and your various friends, not feeling the need to burden yourself with a boyfriend.

taesan was similar to you in that way; after growing into adolescence and beginning teenagerhood he began to delve into music, writing and composing songs became his life. granted, he'd had a couple flings here and there, so he wasn't completely in the dark when it came to relationships.

for his final semester of his senior year, taesan ended up transferring back to your high school. you found out about this when you watched him run out the front door one morning as you were unlocking your car, ready to drive yourself to school.

you almost didn't realize it was him, granted the last time you'd gotten a proper glance at him was when the two of you were maybe 12. his once chestnut brown hair was dyed jet black, and the curliness of it had settled and loosened so it was just slightly wavy.

he'd grown at least half a foot, shoulders broad and sturdy. you eyed his long legs that carried him to the bus that he was practically chasing. biting a laugh back, you watched him sheepishly smile at the bus driver, who rolled his eyes before letting the boy on.

the next time you saw taesan was that evening actually. returning home after swim practice, you saw your mom in the living room vacuuming the floors. pausing for a moment, she unplugged the machine to greet you, hugging you gently and asking how your day was.

"nothing crazy. practice was fine too." your mom fought the urge to sigh out loud. you were always talking about sports while she was constantly hoping you'd come back telling her that you'd met someone.

"that's great, honey" she faked a smile at your denseness, turning around to continue cleaning.

"taesan's back." for a moment, your mom looked caught off guard before smiling again, hoping if she acted normal you'd be encouraged to continue.

"and?"

"he looks different" you spoke as you fell onto the couch, rubbing the back of your neck.

"it's been years since the last time you saw him, hasn't it?" you nodded.

"he's going to my school now." you smiled again thinking about how silly he'd looked this morning.

"i know, i invited him and his mom over for dinner today." your mom replied sheepishly, anticipating an outburst of sorts from her daughter.

"what?" you sputtered in surprise, eyes wide as you stared at your mom.

"what? they're our neighbors, plus i haven't had a chance to catch up with mrs. han in a while." you groaned at the idea of an awkward dinner and having to dress nicely. you trudged up the stairs to your room to wash your hair and find some decent looking clothes that weren't your team sweats.

you were helping your mom set the table when the doorbell rang, sighing as your mom giggled and turned to answer the door. hearing both of your moms' giddy voices around the corner as they greeted each other, you sat on the couch in your living room. taesan walked past his mom and your mom reuniting and appeared around the corner, meeting the sight of you scrolling on your phone on the couch, smiling as you texted someone.

"hey." your gaze immediately fixed on taesan. he had grown up well, his jawline defined and lips tinted pink. his mouth had sort of a natural pout to it, and his eyes were a pretty shade of chocolate. his hair was long, bangs growing out and parted down the middle to fall down his ears and frame his face.

you made note of his figure as well, shoulders broad and torso narrowed into his waist. he was tall, much taller than you'd thought this morning.

standing at the end of the couch you were on, his hands were stuffed in his pockets as he took you in.

you'd also grown up quite a bit in the past couple years. your once shorter hair was longer and flowed down your shoulders, with partially lightened streaks sprinkled throughout from swimming.

you were also quite toned from how active you were, and taesan's eyes traced the lines down your neck as you straightened your posture.

"hi." you replied, lazy voice contrasting your stiff demeanor. he eyed your dressy top and jeans before looking down at his old band tee and ripped jeans.

"was i supposed to wear something nicer?" he asked sheepishly, shoulders slumping in relief as you shook your head no and smiled at him softly.

dinner wasn't really anything unordinary, mainly consisting of your parents conversing with taesan's mother as you and the boy ate in silence next to each other. at one point, you heard your name tossed around in conversation, looking up in response.

"y/n! you and taesan should carpool to school together!" you fought to suppress a groan and eye roll as you watched your moms cheerily converse about the arrangement.

you enjoyed your drives to and from school alone, giving you some peace and solitude. no more of that, i guess, you thought bitterly.

"you ride to school in silence?" taesan asked after swinging your car door open and stepping in. you yawned loudly. early mornings never really agreed with you.

"i don't really have time to listen to music." taesan raised his eyebrow at this.

"don't have time? what are you, the president?" surprisingly, taesan's quips made you crack a smile. considering how you'd felt about him before, you figured riding with him would be a bother.

as you got to know taesan better, though, you realized there was much more to your neighbor than met the eye. he introduced you to his favorite bands and showed you various musical genres. he taught you about a new genre every week, on a personal mission to help you find your favorite. you enjoyed watching him geek out about music, and you began to learn which artists and genres you liked the most.

eventually, taesan would come wait for your practices to end, often sitting in the bleachers and working on homework with headphones shoved in his ears.

you'd always bound up to him after, breathing shallowly as you tugged his earbuds to let him know you were done. he found you to be like a puppy at times like that, panting and waiting for him to pack up his stuff so the two of you could return home.

"is volleyball hard?" he asked one day on your drive home. this week was indie, a soft steve lacy song floating through the air as you turned to look at him.

"not really, it's pretty simple." taesan's face told you he disagreed. before he open his mouth retaliate, you spoke.

"i can teach you."

spending time with taesan was easy. sometimes, you felt like you were going crazy, pulling any excuse from the book to spend time with him. the two of you clicked so well, something that caught you off guard much more than you'd like to admit.

the semester passed by quicker than you could blink, and suddenly you were swept up in end of the year preparations. before you knew it, you were graduating.

pulling the cap over your hair, you turned to your parents.

"how do i look?" they both smiled happily at you, mirroring your own bright grin.

the ceremony felt like a dream, or like you were watching yourself out of your own body. diploma in hand, you were now outside, taking pictures with your various teammates and friends and teachers. at one point, while you were snapping pictures with your friend, belle, you caught a glimpse of raven black hair in the crowd.

glancing over, you saw taesan taking pictures with a small group of boys, the same ones you'd seen him around school with. there were also a couple of guys also looked about your age but weren't in caps and gowns.

either way, taesan's smile shone brighter and grasped your attention more than anything else. his eyes shrunk into crescents and his teeth were pearly white; if you squinted, a halo would probably appear over his head. you watched with a small smile as his friends pulled at his cap and ruffled his hair affectionately.

eventually, the two of your moms found each other and you were being pushed next to taesan to take a picture together.

"smile, kids!" you couldn't help but smile at their giddiness. looking up at taesan, you saw him chuckling as well. his arm wrapped around your side as your parent's cameras flashed.

"you both look so lovely together!" your face reddened with embarrassment at your mom's words, and you quickly slapped her arm to shut her up. taesan was left watching you walk away from him, eyes trained on the way your hair swung and how the wind ruffled your gown.

with school finally out, summer was in full swing. you didn't have any plans in particular, wanting to make the most of the next few months before the next phase of your life.

your mother seemed to have other plans, though. while you could tell she was less than happy with your lack of a boyfriend or even a fling throughout high school, she wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

"y/n honey, mrs. jung's son is single. he's a sweet boy, you two should go out!"

"mom i said n--"

"and you're free thursday evening, perfect! i just texted his mom back!"

the date went as you expected -- painfully awkward. the two of you simply didn't mesh, conversation always fading off into thick silence. your frustration with your mother certainly didn't help either, you thought as you accidentally slammed the boy's car door when he picked you up.

falling onto your bed, you sighed and yanked your phone out of your purse, calling taesan. he was probably working on some beats right now anyways. the phone rung for a few seconds before you heard his raspy voice on the other side of the line.

"what's up?" he spoke lazily. you could hear the squeak of his chair as he leaned back in it.

"my mom sent me on a blind date." hearing him snicker at the other end of the line, you frowned.

"no way, how'd it go?" you answered with a loud ugh, causing taesan to fully burst out laughing.

"terrible, it was so fucking awkwa-- stop laughing asshole!" you cursed at taesan's chuckles.

"when did your mom decide to be your wingwoman?" you groaned, rolling over in your bed and fiddling with the end of your blanket.

"i don't know, but i hope this is the last one." you sighed in response.

unfortunately, fate was not on your side; the date with mrs jung's son was only the beginning of your mother's antics. your friday night plans now routinely consisted of an uncomfortable dinner date and ranting to taesan about it after.

ringing his doorbell, you waited for someone to answer while scrolling through your phone. you deleted your date, gyuvin's, number and hoped to god he picked up on your disinterest and didn't text you again.

looking up as the door opened, you were met with taesan's mother. mrs. han pulled you into a warm hug as she asked how your night was.

"ugh, don't ask, mrs han. i don't know how many more of these dates i can do." she smiled fondly at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you two walked into the house.

"i'm sure you'll find the right guy eventually sweetie, he might be right under your nose." mrs. han elbowed you slightly, her expression playful. you laughed and kicked off your shoes.

"is taesan in his room?" she nodded and teasingly shooed you up the stairs.

taesan heard your slow steps up the stairs, not bothering to look up from his laptop until you were standing in his doorway, arms crossed. you were silently waiting: for acknowledgement and permission to come in. you knew you were always welcome into the boy's room, but taesan silently appreciated the way you respected his space.

"hey." he spoke, smiling and pausing the track playing from his laptop. he had been mixing, as usual. the second his voice left his lips, your shoulders slumped and you threw yourself face down onto his bed, groaning.

"i hate my life." you grumbled, the sound of your voice muffled by taesan's duvet. he chuckled, patting the back of your head playfully.

"there, there." he murmured sarcastically, and you rolled over so you could smack his hand away. taesan looked far more comfortable than you, in his pajama pants and a sweatshirt rather than a tight, uncomfortable blouse and skinny jeans.

the boy listened to you like a puppy as you delved into all the unfortunate details of your night.

"he showed up on a bike?" taesan's face was nearly red as he fought to not laugh. your already grumpy frown only deepened further, and you brought your hands up to massage your temples gently.

taesan's eyes locked on your fingers, mesmerized by your slow movements. moving his gaze down further, he quietly watched your muscles in your hand and forearm tense and contract with your ministrations.

the boy wouldn't tell you this, but he loved the nicer tops you wore, he loved when he could see the way your collarbone sat and trace the delicate curve of your neck with his eyes.

"taesan?" your quiet voice broke him out of his stupor of thought. his eyes refocused on your face, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. he hoped his hair was covering his reddened ears.

"why don't you just tell your mom you don't wanna go on dates anymore?" he spoke lazily, ignoring the way you narrowed your eyes, still trying to read into his previous glances. you shook your head, turning onto your back to face the ceiling. taesan was still propped against the headboard, his laptop and headphones now set aside.

"she won't listen. i know it's because she cares about me and thinks she's helping me out but i'm really tired of the whole routine." taesan's eyes softened. besides your teammates at school and him, you really weren't the most social person out there, blooming the most in the company of those you cared about the most.

taesan could tell the dates had taken a toll on you; the anxious preparation and stiff conversation wore you out much more than you let on. taesan was glad you trusted him with your thoughts and feelings -- he always wanted to be there for you through anything.

the boy moved forward so he was leaning over you slightly and nudged your shoulder with his knee.

"this is gonna sound really stupid, but you could just tell your parents that we're dating." you wanted to laugh but no words left your mouth, mind frozen trying to process what he was saying.

truthfully, what took you more off guard was the soft look in taesan's eyes as he looked down at you through his fluffy bangs. sitting up, you looked for any hint of playfulness or sarcasm in his face.

"really?" you asked confusedly. you hoped you didn't sound off put by the idea, the last thing you wanted was to hurt the feelings of the boy trying to help you.

"i mean, it would get your mom off your back, right? plus, she'd be pretty happy to know it was me of all people that you're with." with that, you smiled and rolled your eyes while shoving taesan lightly.

"oh because you're the hottest guy to ever walk this earth." you laughed as taesan sulked.

"that's not what i meant! you're such an asshole sometimes." taesan's pouted in the most exaggerated way possible, making you chuckle even harder. he was happy you were smiling again.

"besides your little ego trip, i do think it's a good idea." you spoke quietly, slightly embarrassed at how much you liked the idea of taesan looking out for you.

the two of you didn't really set rules, just that you'd hold hands and act a little more affectionate when the time called for it. to be frank, you and taesan didn't have to do much more than you already did; the two of you hung out pretty often anyways, now opting for calling your get togethers "dates" for show.

your mom was obviously thrilled when you told her about you and taesan. she went on a whole tangent about how she just knew the two of you would finally realize you liked each other.

what surprised you more was taesan's mom's reaction. she was not one bit surprised, even going as far as giving both of you a knowing look as you shyly stood next to each other in the kitchen while she brewed her coffee.

you were puzzled, not only by her meaningful gaze at the two of you but also at the redness flushing onto taesan's neck and cheeks. you told yourself he was just embarrassed that his mom was acting so blunt.

friday came along, and for the first time in a month, you were free. no stupid blind date, no painful conversation that made you want to rip your throat out and use it as a garnish for your pasta.

"we should celebrate." you blurted into the silent air. you and taesan were both laying on your floor, music playing from your laptop on your desk as the two of you sat in each others' company. taesan was writing in his journal, probably working on song lyrics, while you read a book. looking up from his notes, taesan clicked his pen and smiled at you.

"what do you wanna do?" you didn't have to look at taesan to hear the smile in his voice. while the two of you already hung out pretty much every day, it felt like the two of you were attached by the hip ever since your arrangement began.

taesan might've been going crazy, but he was enjoying your company too much.

he realized something was wrong with him when he starting smiling while taking out the trash; all because taking out the trash meant he could glance over at your house and wonder what you were up to.

what is going on with me? he thought to himself as he bumped his forehead on the lid of the trashcan, trying to snap himself out of his you-induced daze.

"wanna go see a movie?" you suggested timidly, waiting for taesan's reaction. you don't why you were so worried, you knew he was always down to do anything, but for some reason you wanted to pick something you know he'd like.

"can we get slushies?" taesan shot back, already getting up from the floor and reaching a hand to help you up.

"your parking sucks," the boy in your passenger seat quipped as you nearly took up two parking spots in the cinema's parking lot. looking around, the lot was nearly empty anyways. you turned and flicked his forehead, laughing as he whined dramatically.

"shut up, idiot." you watched taesan make an offended face and grab his chest theatrically.

"idiot? is that how you treat your poor boyfriend." you laughed at his loud gasping. reaching over, you ruffled your hand in his hair.

"i might be nicer if my poor boyfriend was the one driving us." you teased jokingly.

"fuck you, my parents needed the car!"

stepping past the ticket counter, the two of you made your way to concessions, looking for snacks for the movie.

“i got it.” taesan mumbled as he took your drink cup from your hands and walked up to the counter. you followed him with a teasing smile on your face, watching him pay for both of your drinks and a shared popcorn.

“i’m swooning” you joked as he took the receipt from the cashier and handed your cup back to you. he rolled his eyes in response, muttering something along the lines of you being annoying. you knew he didn’t mean a word of it, a small smile painted on his face as the two of you walked over to the drink station.

as you filled up your slushie, you suddenly felt taesan behind you. he quickly brought a hand to rest on your waist and bent to lay his head on your shoulder.

confusion overtook you. but more than that, you could feel your chest heating up and breaths shallowing. the skin of taesan’s chin rested on your shoulder and his breath tickled your ear gently; you had to physically restrain yourself from shivering.

after popping a cap on your drink and grabbing a straw, you turned to look at the boy behind you. you were already near whiplash from how close he was to you, his chest nearly touching yours.

“what was that about?” you tried to sound as unaffected as possible, hoping he couldn’t hear your heartbeat thrumming under your skin.

taesan looked at you for a second and looked over his shoulder again before taking a step back. his hands were shoved in his pockets and he bit his lip nervously.

“i think i saw my mom’s friend.” your eyes widened, tilting your chin to peek past his shoulder. if she was actually there, she was gone, probably in one of the theaters.

the two of you found your seats and your body finally cooled down. the more you thought about it, taesan's whole act wasn't really necessary. it wasn't like anyone was really suspecting of the two of you lying and the two of you looked enough like a boyfriend and girlfriend when you walked around.

sneaking a glance at your "boyfriend," you had never wished to know what he was thinking more than that moment. were the past 5 minutes replaying in his brain over and over again like they were in yours?

you couldn't even pay attention to the movie that was playing, mind and thoughts wholly dedicated to the boy eating popcorn next to you. the skin on your sides almost burned to feel his hands on them again.

clenching your fist, you fought to push the increasingly inappropriate thoughts about taesan away. you didn't understand why it was affecting you so drastically, you and taesan had been holding hands and hugging with no problem.

the way taesan's tall frame towered over you and had nearly wrapped around you as he rested on your shoulder made you head spin. he'd felt so warm behind you, like a blanket draping over you.

shivering slightly at the thought, you caught taesan's attention again.

"are you cold?" he whispered quietly, already taking off his zip up to give to you. you shook your head frantically, slightly horrified at him noticing your odd behaviour and misinterpreting it.

unfortunately for you, it was already too late and the boy draped the jacket gently over your legs, innocently smiling at you before looking back at the screen. you were absolutely certain there was no way you were surviving the next hour.

you were now fully wearing taesan's jacket as the two of you walked back to your car. you were trying to focus on anything besides the boy's warmth seeping from his hoodie into your skin.

taesan could tell something was off, eyes lingering on your slightly stiffened shoulders. at the same time, he was thinking about how he enjoyed the sight of you in his jacket a little too much for his liking. the sleeves reached past your wrists, almost to your fingers.

"did you like the movie?" taesan asked softly, glancing at you curiously.

you both were now sitting in your car, a slow rnb song playing softly from the stereo of your car. taesan's body turned slightly to face you. you, on the other hand, were staring straight ahead, not wanting make eye contact with him in fear of the visceral reaction you might have.

"um, yeah, that one girl was funny." you didn't even know why you were pretending you remembered the damn movie. your mind had been on the boy sitting next to you the whole time.

"you don't need to lie, y/n." your eyes widened at the boy's words. you were done for. taesan leaned forward, tilting his body and head so he could look you in the eyes as you stared intensely at your shoes. he continued.

"i can tell something's on your mind. what're you thinking about?" the boy asked gently, noticing your clenched fists.

"you." you blurted out before you could stop yourself. there was no going back. as the feelings you didn't realize you'd been holding for taesan flooded your mind, you couldn't drown them any longer. hearing a small gasp, you forced yourself to continue

"i know we're just friends, i'm sorry --" you began before taesan's voice sliced through the air, louder and stable than before.

"don't..." your stomach dropped, he definitely hated you know. you almost felt sick, praying he didn't think you were taking advantage of his kindness. he'd offered up this whole arrangement as a friend for your sake and sanity, and you went and fell for him.

"don't apologize for that, ever." taesan finally found the words he was looking for, and you looked up confusedly to see his eyes boring into you. his gaze was heavy, you wanted to shrivel underneath it.

his eyes ran over every part of you he could see, across your eyes and lips and down your neck and along your shoulders. they trailed down your arms that were wrapped in his jacket and brushed over your exposed legs. your tense fists and eyes screwed shut didn't go unnoticed either.

you couldn't bear to keep your eyes open any longer, silently begging him to do or say anything else.

"what does that mean?" you muttered, eyes still shut. taesan's stomach flipped and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you so nervous, all because of him.

"i've been thinking about you, too." your eyes shot open in surprise, seeing taesan smiling at you warmly. his large hand reached over the console to wrap around your still clenched fist, his fingers working to unravel your hand and intertwine yours with his.

he placed his other hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him completely. you held your breath as his touch creeped up the curve of your shoulder, hand fully cupping the back of your neck. you wordlessly leaned into his touch, tongue coming out to wet your lips for what you knew was coming.

taesan thought you looked beautiful like this; the only thing illuminating the two of you was the glow of the dashboard, the light wrapped around you like a halo. your lips shone in the dim light, glossed over and beckoning to the boy.

your lungs felt they were on fire as you waited for taesan to something, anything.

"taesan..." your shaky voice was no louder than a whisper. the boy finally snapped out of his dazed state, leaning over the console to meet your lips with his.

taesan was as gentle as he could be with you, eyes closed and plush lips pressing against yours softly. the kiss lasted for a moment before he pulled away, opening his eyes slowly. while he was aching to go further with you than just a simple peck, the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you, knowing this was your first kiss.

you, on the other hand, had the front of his shirt pinched between your fingers, pulling him back to you within a second. you melted against his lips, eyes fluttering shut as your face grew hotter by the second.

taesan's hand that was holding yours moved to squeeze your thigh. you gasped lightly against his lips and his tongue moved past your lips, exploring your warm mouth.

your head was spinning from the unfamiliar sensations, eyes nearly rolling back as taesan used his hand behind your neck to cup the back of your head and tilt your face. your lips moved together in an unspoken synchrony; taesan could've sworn he saw stars when you bit his lip, groaning into your mouth softly.

the low music from the stereo was now joined by the lewd noises coming from your mouths. the two of you continued making out, your hand now gripping taesan's bicep while his fingers dancing along your shoulders.

you finally pulled away to catch your breath, opening your eyes slowly. a string of spit stretched between your and taesan's lips, lit up by the dashboard lights. taesan felt his stomach tighten as you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, never breaking eye contact with him.

it wasn't until a group of kids your age walked past your car that the two of you remembered where exactly you were -- a public parking lot.

"we should get out of here." you mumbled as you switched the car's gear into drive. taesan simply nodded, still reeling from what just happened. as you pulled out of the parking lot, he licked his lips, hoping to get another taste of you. or what was left of you, at least,

the ride home was quiet, the only sound being the music from your stereo. the movie theater wasn't too far from your neighborhood anyways; your car pulled into your driveway a mere 5 minutes later.

you moved extra slowly as you switched the car into park and turned off the ignition, hoping taesan would take the opportunity to say something. the boy could read you like a book, practically feeling the anticipation and nervousness radiating from your body.

"what do you want to do now?" unfortunately, taesan did not say anything close to what you were expecting. you coughed, caught by surprise while also stalling so you could think of a response.

"i mean we both like each other, right?" you asked, face reddening within a second. taesan smiled and nodded. you continued.

"are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?" you inquired teasingly. taesan playfully scoffed.

"why do i have to be the one to ask?" he whined, eliciting a giggle from you.

"i thought you were a gentleman." taesan rolled his eyes at your jab, reaching over to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

"y/n, will you be my real, not pretend girlfriend?" taesan spoke dramatically, like he was in front of an audience. you laughed even harder, fake swooning as he kissed the back of your hand.

"hmm can i think about it?" you nearly lost it watching the dramatic betrayal on taesan's face. he shoved your shoulder lightly, smiling as he crossed his arms stubbornly.

"i'm kidding, i would love to be your real, not pretend girlfriend." you sealed the deal by leaning forward to press a kiss to the boy's cheek, making a loud smacking sound that made the two of you laugh.

"i can't believe it only took you a week to succumb to me" taesan quipped as the two of you stepped out of the car.

"shut up mr. i've been thinking about you too." you shot back, jabbing the boy with your elbow lightly.

the two of you bantered and held hands in your front yard, the same place where you had fatefully met 12 years ago. and it was taesan's mom who once again beckoned him back, sticking her head out of the front door of the boy's house and calling his name.

"coming!"

#han taesan #han dongmin #han taesan x reader #taesan fluff #taesan x reader #taesan smut #taesan #bnd fics #bnd smut #bnd imagines #boynextdoor #taesan imagines #taesan boynextdoor #bnd fluff #bnd x reader #boynextdoor x reader

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afterglowsainz · 5 months

Text

i'mgonnagetyouback pt. 2 | max verstappen

part 1

summary: max is determined to win y/n back before leaving las vegas and an unexpected reunion at the hotel's pool might be just what he needed

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i wasn't actually planning on doing a part 2 to this but a few people requested it and since i'm a pathological people pleaser here it its !!

the tortured athletes department series

“okay so, step one.” charles’s voice caughts his attention.

if max was gonna get y/n back, he needed to do it that weekend, she was leaving for her other tour dates and he had other races, and he needed a plan. that’s where charles, daniel and lando come in.

“break up with your girlfriend.” the monegasque continues. the other two men in the room nod, agreeing with the ferrari driver.

the second y/n’s concert finished, max felt the urge to go running backstage to her just like old times, but his plans were interrupted by the women he went to the concert with in the first place. his girlfriend wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and her daughter was too exhausted to even walk in a straight line, so he took them both to the hotel and then ran into charles’s room to create a plan, calling daniel and lando to join them.

“you’re right.” max says.

the thought of breaking up with his current girlfriend has been on the back of his mind for a while now. he didn’t really wanted to accept it, but he’s been in love with y/n all this time and it just wasn’t fair to be with someone else. step one was the most urgent.

“step two, call y/n and tell her that you wanna talk to her.” daniel speaks this time.

this one was the step he was the most nervous about. they haven’t talked for ten months and now suddenly he was thinking of getting back together, i mean, what if she moved on already? just because he hasn’t doesn’t mean she didn’t either; but he remembered her singing a few hours ago about getting him back, even if it was just to punch him in the face. he would take what he can get.

“maybe mention that you went to see her show as well.” lando adds.

“what if she thinks i’m a creep or something?” charles gives him an incredulous look.

“mate, come on, you’re her ex, not some random dude.” max nods again and felt the stress of anticipation already creeping in.

“it’ll be fine, max, nothing to worry about.” daniel tries to reassure him and lando smiles at him in the same way.

he exhales and stands up from the chair he was seated on.

“i should go back to my room. start things with the right foot.” they all agree with him and wish him good luck.

when he got back to his room, he saw his girlfriend’s daughter already asleep on her bed and his girlfriend laying down and watching something on tv. he prepared himself internally and went into the room.

“hey.” he says. “can we talk?”

he was quick. it was as uncomfortable as breaking up with someone is, but he felt a bit relieved after. she tried to persuade him into thinking about it, he said he didn’t want to hurt her. he told her they could stay at that room and he would just ask for another at the reception, she agreed. she asked if this was because of y/n, he stayed silent for a moment. he couldn’t lie, not that it was all already out there, and y/n was not a secret he had to hide to anyone. he said yes. she asked him to get out. he did.

max went down to the hotel’s reception and asked for an extra room. since it was a bit late at night they asked him to wait an hour until they arranged one of the suites for him. he agreed without complaining and was about to head back to charles’s room, however, already on the elevator he impulsively pressed the button for the last floor that took him directly to the pool. it was dark and there was no one there, the dim lights on the inside of the pool being the only lightning.

he walked over to the balcony and admired the view of las vegas beneath him, from his position he could see the whole downtown, including the track that he would be driving that weekend. if he wouldn’t have been too distracted he would have heard the sound of small steps going his way, stopping right at the entrance.

you thought you were seeing things, or that you had gone mad. you blink twice, and when he didn’t disappear, you knew max verstappen was standing right in front of you. you could recognize him anywhere.

the uncomfortable burning feeling of being looked at got the best of him and he finally turned around. he didn’t say anything, thinking it was his imagination playing games, but it wasn’t, you were right there, just mere inches away from him.

“y/n.” was all he could say. he figured a hello would be the way to go. “hey.”

you looked just as shocked as he was, but that didn’t stop you from answering.

“hi, max.” your voice was more confident than how you actually felt.

you had just done a three hour show and just wanted to relax a bit in the pool before going back to your room, and now you were there, facing your ex-boyfriend.

“you’re staying here?” he asks, regretting it instantly because of course you were.

“yeah.” you answer, not moving a single centimeter. “i have a few shows this weekend.” you explain.

“i know.” he says, almost too quickly. you arch a brow at him but don’t say anything. “i’m racing here this weekend.” you nod.

“i know.” you copy his answer, although you take a few more moments to say it.

“i went to your show.” he says out of nowhere.

this shocks you even more than before because what does he mean he went to your show?

“what?” is all that you could mumble.

“tonight.” he clarifies. “i went to see you. i hope you don’t think that’s… inappropriate.” his eyes finally leave yours and he looks at the pool instead.

“i don’t think… why would it be inappropriate?” you ask, a bit flabbergasted still. “i don’t think that.”

he nods relieved to hear you say that.

“so you went to the show?” you ask again. “you heard me sing all those songs?” you question, a bit shy.

“yeah, it was incredible.” he smiles at you. “you’re the most talented person i know.”

this makes you blush because he still has that power over you. you couldn’t manage to thank him for the compliment, so you just smiled at him, which was enough for him.

“i liked your surprise song.” he states, more confident this time.

“oh.” you reply. “you did?” he nods. “yeah, i guess it’s a fun song.” you chuckle, knowing damn well you wrote it thinking about him.

this was it, he thought. this was the moment he had been fantasizing about since he stepped into the stadium that night. how to get y/n back? this was his opportunity to do something. no charles, daniel or lando to whisper in his ear. it was all him.

“is it true?” he questions.

“what?” you frown.

“what you were singing in the song?” he explains. “i’m not gonna flatter myself thinking you wrote it about me, but, did you?”

you bit your lip trying not to laugh. how could you confess that to him?

“are you asking me if i want you back?” he notices that you ignored his question, but he didn’t care.

“i know i do.” you looked at him for a few seconds too long, processing his answer.

“i thought you had a girlfriend?” you mumble and he shakes his head.

“we’re not together anymore.” finally, he moves slowly from the other end of the balcony toward you and you remain still. “i’ve always been yours.”

you look at him properly this time, you could see every detail of his face now with how close he was to you and you felt like the ten months you haven’t talked to him hadn’t passed at all.

“and i can understand if you moved on already, but i must tell you i haven’t, for me it has always been you.”

the reasons of why you had broken up all those months ago seemed so silly now. he wasn’t a bad guy, and you weren’t a bad person. your break up wasn’t ugly, both of you had just been too busy with your crazy schedules and you thought ending things would be for the best, but not a day had passed where you didn’t regret that decision.

max was everything, and he was here in front of you, asking for a second chance.

“and when i saw you tonight at your show and i just fell more in love if that’s even possible, and i thought of all the time we wasted and i…”

you touched his face with tenderness and cut him off with a kiss that was long due.

—

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5.482.049 others

yourusername viva las vegas! 🏁 incredible crowd for and incredible night ⭐️

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user1 omg best day of my life 😭

user2 night 1 post we wonnn

user3 girl we see that emoji 👀

user4 we see max in the likes too 👀

user5 please don’t start this i couldn’t take it 😩

user6 max at the concert, she posted pictures and she sung imgonnagetyouback as a surprise song, las vegas n1 really won 😭

user7 MAX WAS AT THE CONCERT ???

liked by yourusername, schecoperez and 893.482 others

maxverstappen1 Brand new, full throttle… 🏎

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redbullracing congrats legend! 🏆

user8 the only time he smiled during this whole weekend 😭

user9 max is so me cause i also talked shit about this race only to lowkey enjoy it at the end

user10 not him using the lyrics of so high school 😭😭

user11 sir is there something we should know? 👀

yourusername who’s that grand prix winner? 😮‍💨

maxverstappen1 i love you ❤️

user12 WHAT SINCE WHEN

user13 chat is this real ???

user14 y/nstappen back together the earth is healing 🤍

liked by francisca.cgomez, maxverstappen1 and 7.482.949 others

yourusername where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me 💘

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user15 EXCUSE ME MA’AM ???

user16 omg y/nstappen i used to pray for times like this‼️

user17 the alchemy mentioned we won !!!

user18 Y/NSTAPPEN NATION LET’S RISE

alexandrasaintmleux so happy to have you back in the paddock🫶🏽💞

yourusername girl i’m happy to be back😭

user19 the fact that he actually run over to her after winning the race ohhh i’m so normal about them 😩

user20 MAX VERSTAPPEN CAN YOU FIGHT?

maxverstappen1 could never fight the alchemy❤️

yourusername my maxxx ❤️

user21 pls they’re the cutest 😭

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rageserenity · 6 months

Text

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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fioiswriting · 11 months

Text

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew.

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded. He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt. It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation. A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges. And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled. Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger.

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders. Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it. He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own.

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell. Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost. King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you. Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you."

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor. You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back. It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you.

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead. It must have been your imagination. You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest. Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen.

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears.

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets. And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company.

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal. You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead.

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly.

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway.

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him. You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be. You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't."

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs.

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you. You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin. Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall. Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself - but you can't help feeling your heart clench. You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time.

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him. A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly. Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind. A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy. Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips.

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion. You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you.

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit. He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely.

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion.

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly.

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps.

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you.

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him. He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence. You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious.

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching.

He doesn't let go of you.

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him. It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his.

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you.

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him. You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow.

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other. Your hands are buried in his long silver hair. You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet?

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress.

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices.

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body.

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry. You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable.

You need him.

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears. You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him. It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you.

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting. For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness.

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you. You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy.

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth. You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie. You know you should lie. To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years. You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not."

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips.

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye. It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words. You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath.

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe. It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity. Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know."

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him.

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him. You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up.

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know." Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence. He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions.

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fic #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x niece!reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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k4lenz · 5 months

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"poor baby.." ✮ hobie brown x fem!reader

a/n: what is up!!!! this is my first fic, AND IT IS NSFW. but i've had this idea stuck in my head and it literally won't go away so basically it's hobie being gone for a while from his universe because of a mission, and his reunion with reader (his gf) when he comes home very affectionate!! reassuring, and just hobes n reader being cutesy and in love nsfw will be below the cut!!! if you like this, pls interact and my reqs r open <3 word count: 1.6k!! notes: smut, scratching, riding, fingering, praise, eye contact, heavy affection, soft turned rough, established relationship, no protection, pussy eating (hobie is a munch n nobody can change my mind), subspace, aftercare

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 Hobie was tired. Exhausted, really. Pulling his mask up in the dead of night as he slipped into his apartment through his bedroom window. Throwing it aside. He was just happy to be back in his universe after a draining mission, because it was somewhere where he could properly relax. With his beautiful girl. Speaking of his girl, you laid on his bed unstirring. Wearing one of his hoodies and wrapped up in the blankets, sleeping peacefully. He had been afraid to leave you all by yourself in this shithole of a universe for a week, but you'd reassured him that you'd be okay. He chuckled fondly to himself at the sight of your peaceful sleeping face, stripping himself out of his Spider-Suit and into a pair of sweatpants instead. You quietly stirred, eyes slightly opening and blinking awake. Sitting up with a soft gasp when you realized what, or rather who, was in your house. "Hobes!" You squealed, getting up and latching onto him the minute you recognized the silhouette of his wicks. Always excited to see him. This mission had been extra long, and you'd missed him. Hobie grinned, gently wrapping his arms around you and placing you back onto the bed. Climbing on top of you, the dark moonlight barely illuminating his face. "Ay, luv. Missed me?" You pressed a kiss to his lips, nodding with a cute little smile and eagerly looking up at him. Settling back under the covers with him. "Mhm. How'd the mission go?"

He grumbled at the thought of that mission, kissing you back before muttering. "Fuckin'ell, was a handful dolly. Miguel never fails to get on me nerves. Just satisfied to be back here with ya." You pulled him down and cuddled up to him. He cooed, realizing what you wanted. "Poor baby. Must've been s'lonely." He teased, moving so he was sitting up in the bed with his back against the headboard, and you were straddling him. He peppered kisses all over your face. You whined in response to the affection and teasing, pouting. He grinned, leaning your forehead against his own and noticing how pent up you seemed. "Awww. What is it? Use ya words, I know ya can. Got somethin' to tell me?" "Need you 'Obie." You mumbled under your breath, and his eyebrows raised. "Oh, 's that it? Sweet lil' ting, been worked up all the time 've been gone? Huh?" He gently started to pull up your hoodie over your head, he'd already noticed you hadn't worn anything underneath earlier.

He cooed as you whimpered in reply, you didn't even need to use words. His hands slowly slid up your thigh all the way to your already glistening cunt. "Christ, y'really do want me. Don't think I even need to prep you. Gettin' wet at just the sight of me now?" But he did decide to prep you anyway, finger circling your clit before gently sliding down and into you. The cool metal of his rings on his hand making you shudder, a sigh escaping you. Nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as your body tensed, breathing heavily against his skin. Squirming as his finger curled inside your dripping entrance. He let you adjust to being stretched out, taking it slow before adding a second finger. Listening to your shaky moans as you got overwhelmed. The sound of your noises filling the room. "Takin' me fingers so well. Knew this gorgeous pussy craved me. You were the only thing on my mind." You loved him, and this moment. Those calloused rough fingers you'd seen him use to play guitar about a million times now stroking your g-spot. You were his 'warmup' as he called it, sometimes using you before a show to get his fingers ready. His thumb came up to rub your clit again, making you squeal. You grinded your hips down, and he took that as a sign you were more then ready. Pulling you into a passionate heated kiss as he slipped his fingers out of you, to quickly pull his sweatpants and boxers down. His throbbing erection springing free, hard and already leaking with precum. The sight of it almost made you want to get on your knees. "See what 'y do to me, baby?" He nudged your legs further apart with his hand, then lined himself up. You writhed as you felt his tip press against your aching slit. He moved to gently gripped your hips, slowly sinking you down. "Ffffuck, Attagirl." You let out a soft whine, always struggling to take him because he was just so big. You swore it felt like he was impaling you, and he liked it. He left a hand on your hips, the other hand wandering up to your chin to force your doe eyes to look at who was fucking you. "Eyes on me, doll. You know the rules." He spoke sweetly, a surprise, considering most of the time it was done harshly in a destroying-your-insides kind of way. This was soft, instead. He purred when you managed to look at him and his thumb soothingly rubbed your face. Starting to slowly thrust up into you as you sputtered out a cry. "Ssshhhh, that's it. Good girl. You can do it." He reassured, as you wrapped your arms around his neck to cling to him. Wanting him to be as close as possible, the sound of your wet cunt slapping against his dick only serving to make you both more turned on. You slowly started riding him on your own, but his other hand on your hips stayed to help lift you so you wouldn't get too tired too quickly, his own hips thrusting up to meet yours as well. "Missed you s'much.." You slurred desperately and he chuckled, observing your eyes as they clouded with lust. "I know, I know you did, sweet thing. Don't worry, I gotcha." Grinding yourself down onto his cock like your life depended on it. Clawing at his back and moaning when his tip hit that perfect spot, sending shudders through your body. He let out a soft grunt, as you clenched around him like a vice. With each piston of his dick, you became more of a mindless thing. He let out a hiss as you continue to weakly lift yourself up and down, and he decided to switch your positions. Quickly pinning you underneath him on the bed and starting a deep pace. "S alright, baby. Relax. You did so well, j'st gonna take care of you now." He whispered into your ear as you wriggled and cried out. "God, your pretty little pussy is so tight. Tryna fuckin' milk me." He kissed down your neck, both hands now gripping her waist.

Your glossed over eyes stared up at him as he pounded into you, feeling him twitch. "Good fuckin' girl. Huh? Gonna let me fill you?" He laughed as you nodded eagerly, too fucked out to form a single thought. He gave one last push, before spilling his seed deep inside you. Panting as he let his head droop against yours, his grunts and groans slowly stopping. You pouted as he pulled out, managing a soft- "Obie? What're you-" as he settled between your legs with a 'Shhh'. Quickly getting to work. You wrapped your legs around his head, pulling him imminently closer to the spot you desperately needed him. His tongue lapped at your wet heat like he was a starving man, unrelenting and desperate. Mewls quickly spilling from your mouth as your slick and his cum dripped down your slit, now mixed with his saliva. You arched your back, already close from just how quickly Hobie had gone from railing you and abusing your cervix to eating you out like nothing else mattered. His tongue, pierced, circled your clit making you practically scream. Your hands scrambled to grip the sheets tightly beside you. "Hobie!" Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you reached that climax, letting out a loud whimper. You could've sworn you were seeing stars as white hot pleasure rushed through you. As you slowly came down from the high, you mumbled gibberish, tears streaming from your eyes. Hobie quickly gave your cunt one last lick before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close, realizing you'd slipped into subspace. Pressing kisses to your sobbing face. "S alright my darlin'. You did so good for me today. So 'appy to be back wit'cha." He whispered in a soft reassuring tone, as you cuddled up to him. Craving his warmth. "I love you so much." He keened and nuzzled into your neck, showing you all the appreciation he knew you needed. He liked nothing better then seeing your little face so out of it. He gently picked you and a water bottle up and carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the counter and grabbing a cloth. Running it under warm water as he cleaned both him and yourself off. Your lips managed to find his, and he smiled and kissed you back. Filling up the water bottle in the mean time and pressing it to your mouth. "Drink." He commanded, though it was gentle. Your boyfriend loved you, and taking care of you was always his priority. "Good. Y'want to go back to bed? 'S pretty late now." "Mhm." You replied quietly, and next thing you knew the water bottle sat on the bedside table next to you and you were wrapped up under the thick fluffy blankets and Hobie. Shutting your eyes as they drooped and silently appreciating having your Spider-Man back home.

#atsv x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x you #hobie brown x fem!reader #smut #first fic #hobie brainrot

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adventures-in-mangaland · 3 months

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Dead Boy Detectives: Fic Recs

My latest hyperfixation is Dead Boy Detectives, so oc I've been reading and commenting on a ton of fic. And it's been really nice because the response of the authors has been so warm. I don't think I've ever gotten so many replies so quickly! Also, the fandom has inspired me to actually start writing again for the first time in two years and I've got a great idea for a fanvid. (Any tips on how to make one would be appreciated! 😅)

So in tribute to the lovely fandom, here's a fic rec post (nearly all payneland):

in this city there's a thousand things I want to say to you by laiqualaurelote

Edwin has a sexual awakening and it blows Charles' mind. And other things. Very funny and well written. Also features minor Edwin/Cat King and Edwardian flirting.

I also highly recommend the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned by the same author, which is a kind of multiverse!Edwin fic? Featuring Edwin dying? And Niko time travelling? Trying to save time? Anyway, interesting to see Edwin alive, ageing and in different periods of time/his life.

For the First Time Twice by MmmCookies

Amnesia fic! Charles loses his memories and thinks he and Edwin are married. Very cute (tandem bike date!) and well written, though Edwin's point of view still manages to be angsty. Also, the yearning is off the charts and the most recent chapter turned up the heat.

I guess you're stuck with me by Punny_Puck

AU in which Edwin and Charles actually got married pre-show. Funny, cute with a sweet marriage proposal prequel. Instant comfort fic.

Dance the Night by Gruoch

The gang are hunting an energy-sucking vampire that targets beautiful people, so naturally Edwin MUST disguise himself as the hottest girl in London. This one starts out fun and campy then takes a hard left turn into Serious Business. Prepare yourself for emotional moments, worldbuilding and some really excellent horror.

Long Past Time by sanctuary_for_all

Charles proposes to Edwin post canon. It's a short and sweet established relationship fic with some cool worldbuilding about ghosts and their ability to shape their clothing/appearances.

lay my hands on heaven by Opossum_Subatomic

I had to include a PWP and this is a great one. Extremely well written, in character and romantic. And explicit, obviously.

Data Points by Asidian

Edwin learns to cuddle. It's a production and completely adorable. I love a fic that explores the difference between the boys' physicality and this one's really on point. The writing and characterisation are great and it's nice to see Edwin taking care of Charles.

I also recommend Lanterns In the Dark, which sets the scene for Charles and Edwin's first meeting with some gut-wrenching details about Charles' homelife and Edwin's escape from Hell.

When I Was a Young Boy by flowerbritts

A Good Omens crossover and AU in which Aziraphale is Edwin's adopted father. Family reunions and revelations abound. Also, Edwin gets to be a teenager and slam doors while shouting, as he deserves.

The author has also written Wait, I'm Coming Too, which is a very sweet post canon 'Charles Worries About Edwin and Realises His Feelings' fic inspired by that 'Edwin reading Heartstopper' fanart. Both fics deserve more love!

A Slight Miscalculation by kantigone

Idiots in Love and Didn't Know They Were Dating. Crystal and Niko are the real MVPs, for real. A treat.

Terrible at Keeping Secrets (5+1) by ASingularSadSoggyPringle

Interesting demon!Edwin AU. Charles is a precious cupcake in this fic and Edwin is mostly the same with some Darker moments. I loved the concept and the author adds in some great, creepy details.

somaesthesia by perexcri

Edwin's journey from being touch-averse to touch-starved... at least when it comes to Charles. Palmistry is involved. I loved Edwin's characterisation and the unresolved sexual/romantic tension was on point.

And possibly I like the thrill (of under me you quite so new) by Leandra

Edwin explores his sexuality and re-negotiates his relationship with Charles. Meanwhile, the gang take on the case of a ghost who wants them to matchmake his still-living lover. Crosses over with The Sandman. And Edwin gets to be confident and flirty as a treat.

Always by How You Doing (FancyMeetingYouHere)

Hurt/Comfort fic in which Edwin has a traumatic flashback to the doll-head demon spider and Charles looks after him. Charles reading Good Omens to Edwin is a nice, meta touch.

Made You Look by Baby_Spinach

The agency are hunting an incubus that decides to take on Edwin's appearance. A repression explosion ensues. Fun fic.

Shape Me by dearheartdont

This one's actually a character study of Charles and his mixed race Indian heritage (so no Edwin) and it's so well done. It's also part of a series in progress about Charles growing up in the 80s with all the racism and homophobia that that entails. I look forward to seeing where it goes.

The Most Tender Place In My Heart by coloursflyaway

Edwin shares memories of how he fell in love with Charles, who figures out his own feelings in the process. It's super sweet and involves fun pre-show flashbacks and defintely deserves more attention!

I also loved Won't Fear Love by the same author, in which Charles takes Edwin out on dates and breaks the cuteness scales. And shout out to Good Enough which is the first fic I bookmarked for this fandom! 🥳

Anyway, thank you to all these amazing writers for making this fandom so special! 🥰

#dead boy detectives #fic recs #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #fic rec friday #fanfiction #dbda fic recs #my fic recs #paineland #chedwin #charles x edwin #payneland fic recs

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yoditopascal · 1 month

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Like A Prayer (Part 2)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: I wanted to get up to the part where you finally meet Logan but it was too long 😭 and I ended up deciding to split the chapter up. In the mean time I hope this enough to tide you over. <3

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts, @blooket-scares-me, @amararosesblog, @talanyra, @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Wolverining is Hard

When you come to, your arms are tightly secured behind your back. Sitting up you try to take in your surroundings as you wiggle around trying to free yourself. The room you’re in is dark with a metal table and a singular chair in the middle and smelled strongly of disinfectant.

Just as you felt like you were making progress with your restraints, really you had just dislocated your hand, a door opens up on your right flooding your vision with a blinding light.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came an accented voice, it sounded British. Just as your eyes had started to adjust to the light you were harshly hoisted up to your feet and dragged away into another room before being dumped unceremoniously at the feet of a pair of red and black boots

“Pookie you’re alive!” said Wade dressed in a new and improved Deadpool suit. Where did he get that? You thought to yourself. “I thought these TVA fucks ate you or something!

Helping you to your feet Wade pats you on top of the head before gesturing between your restrained hands and a guy holding what looked like a giant remote in his hands.

Rolling his eyes the guy snaps his fingers and you’re manhandled again as your restraints are roughly yanked off.

Taking in your surroundings you notice you’re in what looks to be an office with office workers and a floating platform above it. On the platform, where you all were standing, are a bunch of monitors all showing different scenes of you and your friends.

“Where are we Wade? What is this place?” You asked confused as you rubbed at your sore wrists, getting closer to him.

“You, baby girl, have just been upgraded to first disciple! Congratulations!” He said jokingly, just as he was about to say something else he was interrupted by an accented voice, the same one you had heard before.

“As you can see Mr. Wilson your friend is alive and well mostly well.” Said the man from behind Wade with the British accent, he eerily reminded you of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Frowning, the man watched you with a disgusted expression as you flicked your hand popping your wrist back into place as you sucked in a breath in pain. You had definitely dislocated it earlier.

“Now as much as I hate to cut the reunion short it’s time for her to go back home.” He said snapping his fingers again, suddenly you're surrounded by men in body armor again, one reaches out quickly to grab you but you stumble back into Wade who pushes you behind him.

“Wait wait wait….you’re just gonna send her home? To die?” He turns to ask the man behind him. He could feel you pressed against his back, like you were trying to get under his skin. You were scared and he couldn’t blame you, you still had no idea what was going on.

“Die? What are you talking about?” You asked looking back and forth between the man and Wade until a gloved finger fell on your lips silencing you.

“Shush child Marvel Jesus is talking.”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing his hand away.

“You can’t send her back Paradox.”

“Oh I can and I will.” The man, Paradox, had said as one of his armed men came up to him handing him one of those electric baton stick things you had seen earlier. You immediately tensed up, as he started to approach you with it, not knowing what it would do to you on contact.

“No wait wait wait please just hang on a fucking second!” Wade shouted, it was one of rare times he got serious and it made your hair stand on end

“What now Mr. Wilson?” Mr. Paradox asked, groaning dramatically, as if all of this was just a giant waste of his time

“W-what can I do to fix it? The timeline?”

Timeline? What the fuck was happening? You thought confused as you looked back at Wade again as he stared down Mr. Paradox

“Nothing unless you can bring Wolverine back to life in the next,” he says nonchalantly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as he checks his watch “96 hours. But that’s impossible to-“

That little bit of information was enough to get the cogs in Wade’s brain turning as he hatched a play.

“Say less, I’m on it like a car bonnet!” Wade said cheerfully, you had no idea what the fuck that many but whatever it was Wade had set his mind too it and once his mind was set nothing was going to get in his way.

“Mr. Wilson-“ Mr. Paradox had started to say but before he could get another word out, Wade lunges forward and headbutts him full force, breaking his nose on contact, knocking him out as he snatched up the strange remote device Paradox had had in his hands.

Before you could even blink, Wade grabs you, scooping you up into his side, right under his armpit, as he opens up another one of those orange portal doors and jumps right through it with you.

The other side of the portal opens up midair and you crash land in the middle of a frozen forest. The ground and trees around you, covered in a powdery dusting of snow as a harsh wind blows over you causing you to shiver slightly, as you go to sit up you find yourself unable to move as a sharp pain shoots up your right arm.

It took a few moments to realize Wade had landed with you, more like on top of you it seemed, until you heard him groan from your back.

“I gotta get better at opening those things.” He groans, getting up.

“Sorry sugar lumps, we didn't really stick the landing there.” He said stretching his sore limbs as he gestured to your arm. It was bent at an awkward angle behind you, most definitely broken. Standing to your feet you grab at the injured appendage, popping it back into place with a loud snap and a yelp before it has a chance to heal wrong

“Ok Wade I’ve had enough of this Leon and Helena bullshit-“ you panted out still reeling from the pain of your arm.

“Ha! Resident Evil 6 humor!”

“Enough! Please just tell me what’s going on?!” You finally snap as you pull your cardigan around yourself in an attempt to block out the cold. Wade looks you over as if contemplating what to say next before he groans, running a gloved hand over his mask.

“Ah shit where do I even start?” He says as he sits down on a pile of rocks that had a makeshift stick x on top that looks suspiciously like a grave, you chose not to comment on it, as he begins to explain what had transpired over the last hour.

Apparently he was Marvel Jesus, you still didn’t get that part, and your timeline was dying. How? You weren’t entirely sure but Wade kept mumbling under his breath about some “Aussie fuck stealing his thunder from down under”, and that Mr. Paradox guy, who’s in charge of those TVA bastards that kidnapped you and Wade, was in charge of overseeing it but instead of letting it die out naturally over the next hundred years or so was going to speed up the process and now Wade only had 96 hours to fix it before everyone you knew and loved died.

“Which is why we’re here!” He said cheerfully pulling two shovels out of nowhere. Looking behind him to see where the shovels had intact come from you missed as he took a sip from his newly acquired ‘I Like Me’ mug through his mask before tossing it. “Grab your shovel jelly bean, we're hunting a Wolverine!” He said tossing the second shovel at your feet as he pulls the makeshift x grave marker from the pile of stones and starts to dig.

As soon as he said that you felt your stomach drop to your ass. That was a grave behind him, and it wasn’t just anyone’s… it was the Wolverine’s. You were digging up Wolverine to save your timeline?

“Holy shit.”

To say you idolized the guy was an understatement. When you were a kid you had all kinds of Wolverine comics and stickers, hell you still had a pair of Wolverine underwear to this day. Digging up his grave after all this time, after all that he went through in life just felt…wrong.

“You can cream your spinach later, right now we need to see if widdle Wolvie is really taking a dirt nap or not.” Chunks of dirt flew through the air as Wade kept digging, completely absorbed in his task.

“Wade this is-“ Not right you wanted to say. You start feeling your anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I can’t-!”

The sound of his shovel hitting something metal, adamantium, stopped you in your place. Tapping his shovel twice more to make sure he had actually hit something and that it wasn’t just his imagination, Wade looked over to you before turning back to what he had found, wiping away the dirt, he stared down at the now exposed decaying metallic skull of the Wolverine.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Wade stare at the corpse for a moment, lost in thought, before he raised his shovel over his head and bought it down on Wolverine’s skull over and over again, not stopping until he got even frustrated and snapped the wooden handle over his knee, no doubt breaking it in the process.

“Damn it! Son of a bitch! Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!”

He screamed, throwing the pieces of the shovel and swinging his arms as he punched at the air. It had been a long time since you had seen him this serious, albeit the last time you were quite literally dying, and it was honestly terrifying.

Your stomach sank even further at his words. Hugging your arms to yourself in an attempt to make yourself smaller you slowly approached Wade just as he was pulling the adamantium skeleton fully from the grave, dragging it over to a downed tree as he propped it up to sit cross legged by him.

“That was weird. I’m much calmer now.” He says with a chuckle, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the corpse. “Look, I’m not a man of science, but you seem incredibly passed away. But it’s good to see ya.” he pats the corpse on the knee causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust as bile rises in your throat. You’d seen Wade do a lot of strange shit over the years of knowing him, but exhuming a grave of a fallen hero and having a one on one with his dead body was a whole new world for you.

“I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Logan. You and me, getting into everything. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun, the chaos, the residuals?”

You didn’t even want to know what he meant by that as you crept up next to Wade, kneeling down by his side.

“G’day, mate? There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of metal cash.” Wade placed a finger under the corpse’s chin making its mandible move up and down as if he was talking to him, you put your arm on his to get him to stop but he just kept going as he moved to hold his masked head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, uuuugh!” He groans dramatically as he throws his head back, thumping it on the tree trunk behind him. “He had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! We coulda really used your help right about now Hugh.”

“Wade,” you said softly as you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll figure something out, there’s got to be another way right?”

Wade’s masked face turns to look at you, deep in thought, before the sound of multiple approaching footsteps pulls him out of his head. Pulling you until you were tucked between him and the tree truck, he peeks over the tree before ducking back down just as fast, cursing under his breath.

“Wade Winston Wilson! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for too many crimes to count, come out!” Came a booming voice over the chill of the air. You and Wade look at each other for a moment as if deciding what to do.

“This is your last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!” The voice said again as he and a bunch of other TVA agents began to surround you.

You look Wade in his eyes again and nod, knowing he’s going to have to fight to get you both out of there. Looking around himself for anything you could use to defend yourself, his eyes land on the adamantium skeleton sitting nearby and he gets a horribly morbid idea.

“I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them.” He shouts back as he turns back towards you, placing a hand on your head. “Ok Nugget you know the drill.” He says so that only you can hear.

“You go right, I go left.” You nod your head towards the tree line in the background on your left.

“Good girl.” He pats you on the head one last time, tucking baby knife into your hand. “Maximum effort.” He grunted as you both stood, jumping into action. You break to the left as fast as your feet can carry you just as Wade jumps over the tree trunk pulling Wolverine's body with him.

Hearing rapid footfalls following close behind you try to pick up the pace, your lungs burning as you run, just as you reach the woods a gloved hand reaches out tangling itself in your locs before yanking you backwards. You hit the snow covered ground with an audible thud. Your head ringing and vision blurred from the impact. Just as your eyes were starting to clear, that rapid thumping noise from before came back with a vengeance.

Shaking your head to clear it you try and get back up to your feet until a black boot, steps down on your shoulder harshly. Above you stood a TVA agent, his stick pointed right at you as he glared down at you. Just as he began to lower it, you pulled baby knife from your boot, stabbing it as hard as you could through his foot.

He screams in pain as he stumbles backwards falling on his ass as he goes to pull out the knife. Scrambling back up you yank the knife from his foot before embedding it in his exposed neck. Pulling the knife back out again the fall back on your ass in shock at what you just did. You killed someone and hadn’t even hesitated. Sure you had see your fair share of people dying, thanks mostly to Wade, but never had you actually been the one doing the killing.

Before you have a chance to wallow anymore to yourself, you hear a body thud next to you and jump.

“My bad!” Wade calls as he smacks a TVA agent across the face with something that looked suspiciously like a metal femur, shattering his helmet and mostly his face on impact. “Wolverining is hard!”

“Wolverine was a hero and the only thing worth a shit to ever come out of Canada!” Shouted a voice from in front of you two, it was the same guy from before, the one who you tackled through the portal earlier, and he looked pissed. Before he had a chance to say anything else a katana goes bouncing off the ground and right through the guy’s mouth.

“Get my country’s name out of your fucking mouth.” Wade said as he walked up to the still standing body, pulling his sword out of his mouth. “And my sword, gimme that.”

Cleaning off the blade with his sleeve, Wade looks you over, checking you for injuries, something he couldn’t break himself from doing, no matter how much you told him you could heal, before pulling you to your feet.

“We gotta find us another Logan, an alive one.” He said looking around himself assessing the overall damage.

“How?” You question still trying to quiet the pounding in your head, it was starting to fade out now, only being a low murmur at the point, but it still made it hard to focus.

Pulling something from his belt, Wade holds up the remote looking device he had stolen from Mr. Paradox earlier between wiggling fingers.

“This my dear bestest pal is how.” He said opening it up and hitting a few buttons. Another orange portal opens and you stare at it in contemplation, nervousness grips your stomach as you think about what the two of you would get into on the other side of the portal. Wade goes through first holding out a hand for you from the other side. Swallowing down rising anxiety, you take up his hand following him through.

On the other side of the portal the atmosphere is much warmer, you're both in a club, a nice one at that, surrounded by other people as they mingle and converse by the bar.

“Logan I’m gonna need you to come with us!” Wade spoke over the music. Looking around the room, you wonder which of these people he was talking to, none of them really looked like a Wolverine to you.

“Who’s asking?” came a familiar voice from the bar. Turning to look to see who it was that said that, you were shocked to see a guy, about your height, with a crazy hairy torso, wearing a tight fitted black v-neck.

His face definitely screamed Wolverine to you but there was something about this man that just struck you as off.

“Look at this little Mary Lou Retton. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes, you did, comic-accurate short king.” Wade cooed to him from your side in a baby voice as he crouched down dramatically.

You frowned up as Wade as he mocked him, definitely planning to ream him out later when you, yourself, was the same height as the man he was making fun of. This Wolverine stares at you, recognition and another emotion in his eyes, that you weren’t sure of as his nostrils flared and they took in yours and Wade’s, no doubt horrific, scents. Just as you were about to tell Wade that this Wolverine would work, another orange portal opens up behind you and he dragging you inside with him.

“Cue the fucking montage, baby.”

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #platonic deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #hugh jackman #like a prayer

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uchispeach · 2 months

Text

Sycamore Tree (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Dark! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, underage drinking and manipulative! Rafe…

This fic will contain dark content: such as dub-con/non-con and violence. You have been warned.

You laid on your back as you flipped the dusty pages of an old magazine. The weather was nice and the sun kept your skin warm, helping you get the slight tan you were wishing for.

Tranquility was in the air, and you were losing yourself in it just as the fence croaked. Your focus was now on the brunette stomping her way into the front yard.

“Hi!” You greeted her effusively, ignorant to the frown on her face. Your lips parted in surprise as you saw her slam the door while dismissing you with a sigh.

Your shock lasted a few seconds, quickly recovering your soft smile. You knew better than to take your sister’s actions by heart. Kiara had always possessed a tough character, while you were the calmest one.

Your father was quick to follow Kie and you soon joined the scene as the shouting coming from the inside of the house became louder.

”I’m sick of you following me around like some bodyguard. I can’t even buy some records in peace!” She shook the tote bag filled with vinyls.

“Sweetheart, we’ve talked about this…you just have to gain our trust again” The look on your mom’s face was sympathetic; her hands reached out for Kiara’s face, a gesture she quickly avoided by turning around and running off to her room.

The slam on the door made you flinch and your head felt heavy as you thought about the different ways you could comfort your sister without making the situation worse.

(…)

”Please, don’t disappear in the middle of the night with JJ” Your brows furrowed while you begged your sister to be in line.

”For the eleventh time, Y/N. I will not run away with him!..not again” The taller girl shouted as she took off her seatbelt.

You tried to swallow your concern as you both stepped out of the car, your eyes focused on the illuminated beach filled with drunk teenagers.

“Wait!” You were too late to shout as you saw the brunette slipping away to meet with her own friends. Great, you thought to yourself. A party was the last thing you wanted to attend but Kiara was pretty insistent on getting you to cover up for her tonight; and you were too considerate to ignore her desperate request.

”Y/N!” A sweet scent filled your senses as you were pulled to the side by a smiley girl. “You didn’t tell me you were coming. I could’ve picked you up!” Jennifer interlocked her arm with yours in an affectionate manner and you slowly relaxed at her presence.

Jenny was a nice girl you met during your last year in high school, and now you both hung out occasionally, mostly during the summer.

“I wasn’t really planning to-“ You were interrupted by a manly voice. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you all night!” A dark haired boy stood in front of you, muscles shining under his unbuttoned shirt.

You were quick to recognize him and the two other boys who followed right behind. The black haired girl stepped away from you, all to get closer to Kelce, who received her with open arms and a cold beer.

You were a bit confused as to why your friend was suddenly so comfortable around the Kook, chatting effusively with him while a slight blush colored her cheeks. A few deadly minutes passed by, until you were again included. “Oh! This is Y/N by the way” Her slim fingers reached out for your cold shoulder, pulling you closer to the little reunion.

“Well…” she continued to talk as she sensed you tensing up “…This is Rafe, you’ve probably seen him ‘round. And Topper, he’s Sarah’s boyfriend” The latter smiled slightly at the mention while the older boy remained stoic.

You looked at the Cameron boy with surprise, noticing how his blue orbs were already glued to you. His gaze was filled with shameless intensity as he confidently scanned you from head to toe.

His poker face slowly turned into a smirk, the kind of smirk someone makes after making a great discovery. “Kiara’s sister, right?” His voice fitted him perfectly, rough and deep with such a nice touch of huskiness.

You could only nod, feeling like a wrong move would lead to fatality. Rafe’s lips only stretched further. “We should get some drinks!” Your friend was quick to interrupt, pushing you all to the crowded side of the beach.

Even with your back turned, you could still feel the burning eyes of a certain blond.

(...)

“Do you want some?” You jumped at the sudden voice, earning a chuckle from the young man. You lifted up your face, big doe eyes staring up at a smiling Rafe. Then, your gaze unsurely traveled to the Mai Tais he held in big hands. “I don’t dri-” “It’s just one, besides, I hate drinking alone” He sounded truthful, leaving you with no choice but to accept the drink from his calloused fingers.

He let out a groan when he sat next to you on the dry log, spreading his legs and consequently causing his thigh to rub yours. The sound of a can opening was followed by a look filled with expectancy. You took the hint and opened your own beverage. “You know…” He took a sip. “...I got a little upset when I stopped seeing you around the house.”

You felt the liquid trying to find its way out of your throat, making you cough. “I kind of enjoyed your little visits.” You could tell he was being honest and that just made you feel ashamed. “Well, things just got…complicated” By complicated you meant unsustainable. Because everytime anyone mentioned Sarah Cameron around your sister it was like all hell had broken loose.

It was strange, Rafe Cameron reaching out to you, just to tell you he missed all those times you would go to his house on playdates. Mostly, because you never really interacted with him, just saw his younger face every now and then behind his bedroom door or on the other side of a huge dining table.

The blond only nodded, seeming to understand what you meant. “You look cute today” Such an inoffensive compliment and he still said it with a predatory smirk. “Pink has always been your color” He took the liberty of stroking the edge of your sundress.

You felt the heat rising up to your cheeks as you looked down on his fingers tugging at the fabric. “Thanks… I like your shirt. That-That cut looks great on you” Rafe threw his head back in laughter, making you want to sink impossibly further into the hard piece of wood.

“That’s what I like about you” He looked at you through the corner of his eyes. ”You’re always so kind…always having the need to give back.” His words were said in a serious tone, no playfulness between the lines.

A strange feeling installed itself on the pit of your stomach, tickling your senses in a nice way. Suddenly, the North Carolina breeze stopped chilling your bones. You felt warm.

You swallowed your awkwardness with a gulp. Doing your best to slow down your heart rate. “And…How have you been doing?” Your eyes were deep in his.

The can touched his lips again, staying there for a long time before answering: “Nothing has really changed, at least not for good” Behind his irises you could see some emptiness, and that made your chest tighten a little.

Fights, fits, constant shouting and scolding, you remembered it distantly. The Cameron household was far from perfect and preferences seemed to have been decided since long before you met them, leaving the blond boy in a disfavored place.

“Well…sooner or later, I’m sure you’ll be able to turn things around.” You wore a shy smile on your soft lips. ”So optimistic” Rafe threw back at you with a hint of humor. “Wish others had that same level of faith in me.” A dry laugh left his throat.

Your face looked for his, getting closer in a comforting gesture. “It’s probably hard to feel like you constantly have to prove yourself…” Your tongue spoke faster than your brain. “…to others”

The older boy’s gaze was deeply set on you, the intensity of it making you back away carefully. “I’m-“ His factions were still, almost making him look upset. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know why I said that” You stumbled with your own words. The regret of making bold assumptions clouding your head.

But then he talked, deep and clear for you to hear: “I don’t mind.” A warm limb rubbed against your back, followed by the feeling of his hot breath on your skin.

The Cameron boy had you secured by his side, with one hand lazily going up and down all along your spine and his body heat wrapping around you like a blanket.

His closeness started to make you feel dizzy, totally unsure on what to think about it.

After a few seconds, discomfort started gurgling deep within you as his hefty hand prevented you from putting some distance between the both of you. With no hesitation, his strength pulled you right back by the waist.

“I-” A loud noise made you stand up with a jump. “Did you hear that?” Your brows furrowed in worry as your eyes searched for the disturbance’s cause. Screams were soon to follow, as well as curses and rough words coming from young voices. One of them you were able to recognize.

Pope dragged a pair of sweaty and agitated boys. JJ and John B rooked rough, the latter one even presenting a few bruises and cuts. Kiara was soon to follow, shouting at the trio to move faster.

Your sister was frantically looking around, and almost like an automatic response your legs moved to join her. “Hey, let me drive you.” A solid grip was quick to take you back. Rafe had a decided look on his face. “I can’t, I have to go back with my sister” You politely shook your arm, trying to liberate yourself without seeming rude. But the blond had other plans, keeping you in the same place with an even tighter hold.

“Next time?” You said with a pleading face. Rafe’s eyes, with an unreadable intensity, pierced through yours. He seemed to weigh your words before nodding reluctantly, his fingers loosening their grip but not entirely letting go. “Alright, I’ll see you ‘round,” he said, his tone almost imperceptibly softer. He let go, but his gaze lingered, a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You pushed away the goosebumps of your last encounter, only to solely focus on getting as fast as you could to the brunette’s side.

“Kiara!” You were out of breath as soon as you reached the parking lot. Pope on the old van’s wheel while JJ struggled to throw John B inside. “Hurry up! You have to get out of here” The younger girl was anxiously leaning against the vehicle’s door. “What-” You were cut short by the sight of a metallic object.

Kie’s boyfriend was quick to hide the gun under the seat. “Come on. Before the police arrive!” Your mouth was wide open, shocked by the nervous display. You were too occupied trying to decipher what was going on, that you didn’t even feel your sister shaking you hard by the shoulders.

“Y/N, we have to leave. Gimme the keys!” Kiara groaned in exasperation as she saw you struggling to comprehend the words coming out her mouth. “Now!”

A/N: Characters are aged up. Reader is 19 and the Pogues are all over 18.

#dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron #dark!rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #obx smut #dark content #tw dark content #dark fic #dark obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x you #rafe fic

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luvt0kki · 10 months

Text

𝟎𝟎𝟏 | 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧�� 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

She don't give a fuck about nobody

And she got her whole crew poppin'

And she bend it over like she got no back bone

🎧 six feet under - the weekend

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧ s.w.m masterlist ୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ taglist ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧

001 | next

pairings : ot8 x reader, (with a focus on Mingi and Wooyoung this chapter)

wc: 7.2k ( not fully proofread yet so sorry for any mistakes 🥺)

cw: mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, clubbing, alcohol, futuristic stuff that I had to google cause it’s been years since I watched Star Wars or scifi movies, nud1ty, hints of violence, hints of crime, slow burn, eventual smut, lots of teasing, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and y/n, fembodied reader, mentions of segss work ( mostly just stripping), hints of violence

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: this is long I know 😭 but YES, look forward to part 2! Also I would really appreciate and enjoy like your thoughts in the replies or in my ask box hehe we can fangirl together for what’s to come

The former noble turned galactic nomad sighed as he stared out at the endless darkness littered with twinkling stars that maybe was a part of another system. It wasn’t that he found his life on the spaceship boring, in fact, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

When his childhood best friend and also former crowned prince of their home planet, Jupiter, showed up after a year of escaping and denying the future laid out for him by the King, he had to know what he was up to. He had to talk to him and hear all about the life outside their planet and without the protection of their standing, the dangers, the perils, the thrill of the unknown and more.

Wooyoung then had not believed that his best friend, glowing with the freedom he had given himself, was right there in the bustling city’s downtown market. He had thought he had hallucinated and mistook the cloaked figure to be someone else but when his feet carried him to follow him, he was able to confirm that it was indeed his best friend.

Their reunion gave Wooyoung a chance at the same freedom Yeosang had sought after and a chance at meeting the band of brothers that he found that shared the same ideals. On his own volition without even consulting the Captain of the crew that Yeosang had become a part of, he decided that he was going with his best friend. Plus, what better way to create a reputation for himself as former noble turned space pirate? He liked how that sounded.

Which leads us now to the present…

Now he was part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. Not what he had in mind really but he liked the life. The thrill, the danger and the excitement of it all. The not being told to act a certain way nor have his whole life planned to every second.

Was he buddy buddy with a bunch of rogue, violent and defiant pirates? Yup. He was one now too and the crew were like his brothers.

Sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next, never ever really having a permanent dock. The ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.

But he hasn’t met one person of the crew…and he didn’t know that.

“Woo. Wake up. ” A firm hand shook him by the shoulder “We just docked at Xileon.” The calm and pleasing voice of their youngest slowly being heard in his ears as he gained consciousness.

“X-Xileon?” Wooyoung muttered, brows furrowing as his eyes blinked and squinted, adjusting to the soft light coming from his open door.

“Yeah, little fun rest stop. Well fun for me,” Jongho chuckled, excited to see all the cool technology and city life Xileon offered. He’s only ever been once when he had been an apprentice. Xileon was every science, engineering and tech geeks favorite planet, other than that the bustling fun night life it offered attracted all kinds of travelers across the galaxy. “C’mon, Captain says we’re free to do what we want while he contacts one of his informants.”

“What if I want to sleep, Jongho?” Wooyoung whined, sitting up despite his words.

“I know you’re always up for a party.”

“Now where did you hear that from?”

“Yeosang.” He shrugged, getting up from the edge of Wooyoung’s bed. “Come on, everyone’s going .” He clapped the raven haired man on the back, the impact making a little ‘oof’ escape Wooyoung.

“Yeah…yeah,” Wooyoung made a face, rubbing the back of his neck as he woke up. “I’ll be there…just wait a bit. Let me freshen up.”

“Don’t make us wait too long,” Jongho’s lips pursed in a childlike way, making Wooyoung chuckle a bit. As strong and intimidating as Jongho was, he was still their youngest and had an inner child that came out now and then.

“I won’t…I don’t want an earful from you anyways,” he snickered, playfully jabbing at him.

Jongho glared at him before leaving.

Xileon was a colorful fluorescent modern, futuristic jungle of a planet. The most high tech flying vehicles and motorcycle cruisers sped by the roads and streets, the avant-garde and neo-futuristic skyscrapers and buildings glimmered during the lively evenings of *Night City*. Clubs and the grandest of parties happened every night. The pounding music, the flashing lights and glittering champagne, and the vast choices of alcoholic concoctions called many for a good time but underneath all of that, it provided many individuals a guise to have dealings of a far more less than lawful nature.

If you’re lucky, Night City’s police would turn a blind eye. Just make sure you don’t get caught or were one of the most hunted wanted individuals of the galaxy.

Luckily for ATEEZ, they were never really caught…except for that one really disappointing and poor depiction of Mingi’s profile that was being plastered in every back alley or lamp post. It was a good thing it looked nothing like him and that that day, Mingi had been wearing an oversized leather cowboy hat that casted a shadow over his eyes so the wanted poster was practically useless. All Mingi had to do was not wear that hat ever again…he grumbled about it for a bit but he had let it go eventually.

The eight men stood in line for one of the top venues to experience the night life the city offered.

While their Captain and First Mate were here to do conduct business, the rest decided to enjoy the establishment as well as make sure they were there should anything go south. But as they entered, guided by a bouncer with a metallic high tech prosthetic arm, Hongjoong dressed in an exquisite Aegean velvet suit tailored to his frame like a glove, turned to them once more to remind them that this whole affair was likely not to be any trouble.

“Don’t worry too much and try to enjoy yourselves,” he ran his fingers through his dyed azure hair before adjusting the lapels of his blazer, some tipsy club goers passing by to leave eyed their captain’s slightly exposed skin. The rest of them garnered looks as well the more they walked into the place, the music pounding and colored lights flashing. “If anything,” he tapped by his ear, earrings glimmering as they’re caught in the lights, the little communication device Jongho fashioned for them hidden behind his and their earlobes. “I’ll call you.”

“But, really, please do enjoy yourselves.” Seonghwa smiled, raven dark hair sweeping perfectly to frame his handsome face. “We rarely get days like these. Have fun.”

The newest addition to their crew grinned like a cat who got the cream, eyes looking over the dance floor with a glint of mischief and the full intent to indulge himself in pleasures he was used to having. “Don’t worry, Seonghwa. I plan to do just that.” He winked at the women who looked his way.

“Oh, he’s in his element.” Yeosang chuckled, throwing an arm over his best friend. “Don’t get into that kind of trouble, Woo.”

“It’s trouble they want anyways.”

“Were you always this cocky?” Mingi’s nose scrunched up at his friend’s obnoxiously flirty behavior.

“Don’t act like you’re not a flirt when you want to be.” Yunho teased the crew’s gunner, poking his side.

“I know I said to have fun,” Hongjoong spoke as they made their way through the spread wide and lively establishment, passing several tables, booths and private rooms. “But do behave.”

That was their last exchange with the group before Seonghwa and him continued down towards the part of the club with another set of bouncers that led to the private and premium rooms. Straight to business while the rest stood by the railings that overlooked the dance floor and bar below, eyeing what entertainment tonight had to offer each of them.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Jongho turned to San, their agent, who stayed close to them, rather protectively, almost like a bodyguard. His posture was straight yet elegant with an air of quiet and unquestionable confidence, almost making one think that he may have come from royalty.

“Places like these…” San’s cat like eyes scanned the room, processing possible exits and blind spots. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Maybe some alcohol in your system will help loosen you up.” Wooyoung came to his side, eyes on the dance floor eying for a partner for one night, the ocean of people reminding him of the days he’d sneak out his father’s manor to party with the other elites.

“He doesn’t hold his liquor well,” Jongho stated, crossing his arms over his chest, a group of what seemed to be innovators, inventors and scientists out to have a good time catching his eye as one of them boasted their interactive hologram that displayed a model of an advanced hover cycle. “I’ll be doing some mingling.” He clapped Yeosang on his back as he made his way to the group cooly while simultaneously getting a shot from a hostess passing by.

“Seems like he’s done this before. Not so baby as I thought he was,” Wooyoung hummed with narrow eyes, watching Jongho easily join the groups conversation and a random woman sizing him up flirtatiously.

“We should get a table,” Yeosang suggested.

“A booth.” San inputted. “Specifically in that corner.” He gestured with a tilt of his head to the far right corner of the dance floor below. “I can keep an eye on things there better.”

“To give Sannie some peace of mind, we should follow his request.” Yunho placed his hands on their agents broad and stiff shoulders.

“I’ll get us drinks.” Mingi decided, heading down the aesthetically pleasing steps to the bar. His tall, muscular figure was clad in a fitting white shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows topped with a vest that cinched at his waist, boasting his defined v-tapered back. Little did the people who gave him double takes knew, beneath the leg of his trousers, strapped to his ankle was a knife and at the back of the waistband was a gun.

With Yeosang’s charm, the boys were able to secure the corner table booth that was a bit further away from the dance floor, it was private and one that definitely were for VIPs. What they liked was that it was close enough to where the party was but far enough that they can speak to one another while the music drummed at a less overwhelming volume. San sat took his spot on the dark violet cushioned seat that gave him a view of all the exits and entrances and for now, since it was just the start of a long fun night, they decided to have a couple of drinks and some food while enjoying each others company and the music.

“You need to relax,” Wooyoung tutted at San, unbuttoning another button of his shirt to expose more of his honey skinned chest. “When was the last time you fucked, huh?” He asked the former assassin.

“W-what?” San stuttered, eyes growing wide and ears tinting pink at the sudden question. For such an intimidatingly handsome man, he sure flustered easily.

Yunho looked over at San with concern, the last time San had been with anyone…was before Wooyoung had joined the crew…before—

“You never really told me your type?” Wooyoung wiggled his groomed brows, relaxing in his seat as he watched people dance, bodies pressing against one another, some fitting perfectly and rolling in tandem with whomever they danced with.

Yeosang quietly observed his friends, savoring each sip of his drink and mindful of their interactions.

“I-I don’t have a type.” San murmured, reaching for a glass from the tray Mingi returned with, who settled next Yunho on the other end of the couch.

“San’s not really the sleeping around kind of person,” Mingi’s deep voice almost melded with the low hum of the bass music.

“And you are?” Wooyoung scoffed at their gunner, his newly dyed pink hair catching the eyes of those that passed by them.

“Pleasure is pleasure,” Mingi shrugged his broad shoulders, ringed fingers cradling his whiskey sour. “But,” he reached for one of the thinner silver chains around his neck. He pulled out a specific one with a pendant. “I’m a loyal man.”

San stared at the pendant, a wave of melancholy washing over him as he recalled memories of who that butterfly pendant belonged to and who it signified.

“You’ve got someone?” Wooyoung’s interest was piqued immediately, forgetting the women he had been eying across the dance floor and now staring at the pendant that Mingi displayed proudly and pressed to his lips.

His smirk was answer enough for Wooyoung.

“It must be hard for them.”

Yeosang tilted his head. “Why’d you think that?”

“Because we’re rebels, bandits/pirates? Shall I go on and list the colorful achievements of our crew? Plus,” he turned his gaze to the dance floor, locking with a pair of eyes so magnetic that even behind the intricate lace masque she wore, just a small moment had him looking for them when he lost it. “Isn’t it cruel to make her wait?”

Mingi’s reaction caught Wooyoung off guard. He scoffed with a slight amused smirk on his face, as if what Wooyoung had said was funny.

“She’s not doing all the waiting.” San spoke without thinking before Mingi could reply, his eyes transfixed on the pendant until it disappeared back beneath Mingi’s shirt. His eyes returned to observe the happenings around him.

Wooyoung wondered what San meant but he didn’t have enough time to think much of it when another round of drinks arrived.

As the night progressed, the drinks emptied were quickly refilled and Wooyoung danced, mingled and flirted like he did back in his old life. Seonghwa and Hongjoong after having met with their informants had joined them at their table, while Wooyoung and even Yeosang danced, the rest deciding to play a game of pool.

Wooyoung was not blind to the wandering eyes that were on him and his very attractive crew members. Many flirted with them but it was never more than that. His friends entertained their advances but were quick to turn them down when they asked or suggested for more.

But he didn’t worry much about it, not when he was searching for that pair of eyes he locked with earlier. Where was she? He would catch glimpses of her now and again but she was always a distance away from him, and every time he tried to head to her direction and he lost her in his peripheral, she was gone.

Was he hallucinating ? He wasn’t even that drunk.

Soft fingers brushed the nape of neck, nails scraping delightfully on his skin. He knew what that meant. Grinning and letting himself go, he turned to entertain another flirty party goer, only to meet the masked beauty he was searching for all night.

Sporting what clearly was a shoulder length pink bob wig with bangs, her eyes were hidden behind a white lace masque and she wore the most alluring Mona Lisa smile that haunted his mind since he had seen her.

Wooyoung with his experiences back in his and Yeosang’s home planet, girls like her, like you, who came to happenings like this dressed almost incognito, meant that you were here for a very good time that not even your identity can be disclosed.

He smirked and placed his hands on your waist, pleasantly surprised to feel warm skin against his palms. With how packed the dance floor was, he couldn’t really get a good look of your outfit but from what he could see, you wore a bejeweled bralette with straps that were lined with tiny crystals and brushing over his knuckles as you both swayed were long beaded shimmering strings hanging by the band.

So who were you? Some elite socialite whose reputation was too good to ruin in a scene like this? A noble like he was looking for a good time? A princess of some other planet?

“Hey,” your sultry voice, like honey to his ears. “My eyes are up here.”

Your arms hung over his shoulders, giving the handsome stranger a quick look down as if you hadn’t been observing him all night.

The buttons of his black silk dress shirt revealed his toned chest, honey skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat beneath the party lights and his pretty neck was wrapped in a matching silk black choker with the extra fabric dangling in a classy fashion.

“And mine are up here too,” he teased back and pulled you against him. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Oh?” Glossy pink lips stretched into a smirk and shimmering eyes locked with his. “And why would you be doing that?”

“Because I’ve decided,” he turned you around, his hands on your hips keeping you in place against his own as the two of you danced to the music. His lips were hot against your ear while your hand rested on the back of his neck, rolling your hips sensually. Wooyoung smirked against your ear.

You wanted him just as much as he did.

“That you’re mine for the evening.”

“Yeah?” You tilted your head slightly to give him access to your neck, your eyes falling to his group of friends by the pool table.

“Not everyone gets that privilege, baby.” He husked, brushing his soft and hot lips along the column of your neck, breathing in your addicting scent.

Wooyoung wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol and the heat of the dancing crowd that was getting him so easily riled up but something about your aura was so magnetic and intoxicating. Was it because he hasn’t slept with anyone since he left Jupiter?

“Well aren’t you arrogant.” You raked your nails through his hair, shivers going down his spine and sending pulsing heat to his crotch. “Was that supposed to flatter me?”

His eyes shut at the delicious sensation of your touch. He wanted to get you alone, heck, he would have you on the dance floor if he could. He almost forgot how good it was to fuck after months of traveling the galaxy. He wanted to fuck. He wanted you.

“Don’t lie to yourself and say you’re not.” He brushed his lips on your earlobe, his hot breath against your ear and the way his hands roamed your body felt good.

God, how did his friends put up with his cocky flirty attitude?

“Is that what you want me to do?” You rolled your hips against his, completely aware of the growing hardness pressed against your ass as he ground his hips to the music. “Lie?”

“Trust me sweetheart, there’s many things I want you to do.”

“And what are those things?” You purred whilst tugging at his hair, your voice and your gesture spurring his desire further.

He gripped your hips tighter and lowered his lips to your neck, to the spot just below your ear. He pulled you closer to his body to feel the heat of your form on his own before letting his hands roam freely again, feeling the exposed skin beneath the beaded strings that teased every spectators eyes.

“I want you,” he growled against your skin, pressing his lips just a little bit. “Legs spread apart with my head between your thighs.”

The warmth of his hot lips and the lust in his words undeniably sent heat to your core, and the image he painted with his words was so tempting. Plus, the fact that that was his response set him apart from other men. Usually the response you’d get were more about their pleasure never yours.

You hummed at the thought before turning around to face him and meet his eyes. He wore that flirtatious grin and his eyes were blown with lust. They had a look in them that you found so sexy, you couldn’t help but play a little.

“You’re very bold.”

“I’m honest.”

“And what’s an honest man such as yourself doing here?” You caressed his cheekbone with a gentleness that made Wooyoung’s heart skip a beat.

“What do you know about honest men?”

“Well for one, they don’t spend their time in a place like this.” You swayed to the beat closer to him. “Secondly, an honest man always ends up with an honest woman. I’m far from honest.”

“Then maybe we’re just two dishonest people.”

He watched your pretty lips stretch into an endearing grin, their glossiness and plumpness pulling him closer to you.

“Maybe we are.” Your sweet breath fanned over his lips, your foreheads touching, so dangerously close.

“I wonder what you taste like.” His thumbs caressed the skin of your waist.

You grazed your lips over his just a little and Wooyoung could get a little taste of cherry from the gloss you wore while you slid a hand between the two of you. Your fingertip brushed along the exposed skin of his chest then the silk of his button up shirt before they lingered at the waistband of his trousers. Before he could even think about pressing his lips on yours, you turned your cheek and leaned in his ear. Your right hand skimmed over the hardness of his crotch, making a cute little gasp escape the strikingly handsome man.

His cock twitched beneath your teasing touch.

“Like heaven,” you purred.

His forehead fell on your shoulder as he bit his lip, holding back a moan as you palmed him through his pants.

“But…” your touch left his hardened member, the loss of friction making him groan. “Not everyone gets that privilege.” You echoed his words back to him.

Before he could react, his head dizzy and spinning from both the alcohol and your hot touch, you slithered your way through the crowd.

His eyes watched the pink of your hair amongst the dancing and close proximity of people. You headed to the back, to the dark red velvet decorated motif which was below the second floor where the premium private rooms were. You nodded at the two bouncers who guarded the velvet draped entrance, who smiled back at you.

Did you work here?

Before you disappeared behind the curtains to what he assumed was the private entertainment rooms, you casted him one last glance. It was like you were telling him to follow.

Wooyoung wasn’t the type to be whipped by just anyone. He knew what was worth his time or not but with you, he wasn’t even thinking. His feet moved on their own to follow you like he was under some spell.

“Hey, I found you.”

Jongho entered his peripheral.

“Huh?”

“Captain said his informant got us a private room as a treat.” Jongho’s hand on his shoulder started to guide him through the crowd, towards the dark glowing red area.

“For what?”

“For taking care of the man who was his competition. Even though that wasn’t our intention.”

Wooyoung frowned, adjusting his pants to hide his erection. Not really how he wanted to spend the rest of his night but if Captain calls, you do not make him call twice.

“Ugh,” he ran his hands through his hair, missing and imagining your touch. “Fine.”

If he was lucky, he was going to find you…

“This is…odd.” San spoke, sat on the curved plush couch between Yeosang and Mingi of the rather compact red room with just enough space for ten people.

“Why is that?” Jongho asked, pouring himself another drink, the golden liquid in his glass like honey.

Hongjoong made himself comfortable at his spot on the left curve of the couch, legs crossed classily as his eyes stared at the empty little platform in the center of the room, the silver pole glowing cause of the mood lights..

“Isn’t entertainment like this supposed to be for one set of eyes?” San wondered out loud.

It’s not that he hasn’t ever experienced this before. He has. It’s just more private when it’s him and the performer. He never thought of doing an activity with his friends…though they have indulged in some acts on the ship when a certain someone was around.

“Yeosang and I used to do this all the time,” Wooyoung shrugged nonchalantly, making his best friend’s eyes widen at how he threw that info out so easily. “Oh c’mon, they don’t care about your Perfect Prince Yeosang reputation.”

Mingi chuckled at their interaction and Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at his friend.

“Why are you here? Aren’t you a loyal man? Now I feel even sadder for your girlfriend.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Mingi pushed his black shades up higher to shield his eyes. “I am a loyal man cause no matter what, no one can compare to her. I wouldn’t be in this room if Captain’s informant wasn’t a dickhead who will take offense if not all of us accepts his ‘treat’.”

“Also, this club has a policy of not touching the dancers unless they consent,” Seonghwa added. “We just enjoy the show the lovely lady assigned to us will put on, tip her extra and that’s it.”

“And we can’t just leave why?” San sighed, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Because the informants goons will report back to him if we turn down his gift,” Yunho explained, knowing the character of that rich man all too well. “Hongjoong still needs to be on his good side til he gets information of the location of the Cromer.”

A soft knock on the door silenced them and all that could be heard now was the vibrating hum of the music that played in the room.

“Boys,” Hongjoong spoke lowly, casting them a glance. “Play nice.”

Jongho raised his glass at that, leaning back into the other end of the curved seat.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

Wooyoung stopped breathing. No fucking way.

Too lost in his own surprise of coincidence, he wasn’t able to catch the way his crew mates interest were suddenly piqued.

With you only being the one standing, Wooyoung was able to see you in your full glory. The purple lilac bralette bedazzled with sequins cupped your breasts so perfectly and the crystal beaded strings caught the fluorescent light in a way that made you shimmer and appear like a goddess. Behind the curtain of beads, all of them could see your naked skin but compared to when Wooyoung had danced with you earlier, the silk mini skirt you wore was gone.

Feeling all their eyes on you, you smiled coyly at their Captain, stepping your foot onto the circle platform in the middle of the room, showing off the skin of your legs that were elongated by your silver heels.

“Shall I get started then?” You asked, running a finger from your ankle to the purple garter on your thigh, aware of how their eyes followed the trail of your chrome lilac painted nails.

“It’s you.” Wooyoung breathed out, eyes tracing the waistband of the sorry excuse of an underwear that matched your bralette. It was tiny and flimsy, and almost left nothing to the imagination, except for what your pussy would look like. Wooyoung wanted to know.

Yunho glanced at his friend. How did he know you?

“Oh? Well if it isn’t, Mr. Arrogant.” You gracefully stepped your whole body onto the platform, circling around the pole while playing with the little crystal studded purse you brought with you.

Your words made Jongho chuckle.

“You work here?” It was a dumb question, Wooyoung knew that.

“What does it look like?” You shrugged your shoulders cutely before throwing your tiny purse to the curved platform behind them where you could play around some more if you wanted to.

“How long have you been working here?” Hongjoong asked, taking your attention from Wooyoung.

Smiling his way, you slowly sunk to your knees and ran your hand on your left thigh where your purple lace garter was.

The man before you smirked knowing what you were silently telling him.

Hongjoong dug into the inner pocket of his blazer and in between his fingers was a 50 Zaire bill. He leaned forward and without touching your skin, slipped the bill beneath the garter.

“Three months.” You answered him, sensually getting up to lean against the pole with your arms over your head, elongating your body for their viewing pleasure.

“I like your wig.” Jongho commented, eying you with a knowing gaze.

“Thank you.”

Wooyoung watched as you moved seductively on the pole, unaware of how San became completely relaxed and excited at the same time.

“Does all of this turn you on?” Wooyoung asked, eyes raking your body and feeling his throat dry at how drawn he was to you.

“Sometimes.” You purred nonchalantly, bending over a little to show the arch of your pretty back before expertly twirling around the pole.

“Earlier…were you lying to me?” He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs as he tried to meet your gaze.

“No.” You replied, locking eyes with the man in the middle whose hair matched your wig.

He lowered his shades close to the end of his nose, his eyes locking with yours and sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re a good dancer. I had fun.” You admitted still looking at the tall man before you even though you were addressing Wooyoung.

“Are you having fun now?” San asked, surprising Wooyoung that he was interacting with you, his cat like eyes set on you and no one else.

“Because I’m here with eight handsome men rather than the sleazy ones? Yes I’m having fun.” You stepped your heel onto the plush couch, the men making space for you as you stood between Mingi and Wooyoung, your gaze down at Mingi who looked at you with stars in his eyes while the one behind you, going crazy with desire let his eyes wander.

Placing your hand delicately on Mingi’s shoulder, you slowly bent over, giving Wooyoung and Jongho the view of the back of your legs, your ass and your clothed cunt.

“I thought there’s a no touching rule.” Yeosang spoke, feeling himself grow hot, knowing the body his seeing all too well.

“I can touch any of you while I do my business since that’s what I was paid for but none of you can touch me unless I say so. So keep your hands to yourselves unless you’re putting a bill under the garter.”

You traced your finger along the side of your thigh, knowing full well that Wooyoung was watching your every move more intently than the others.

“Are you flirting with us?” Wooyoung licked his lips, mind racing with thoughts of kissing and feeling your skin.

“Maybe.” You winked at Mingi, making him smirk.

“Are you allowed to flirt with us?” Yunho asked this time and you moved to perch yourself on the platform/back rest of the couch.

“Yes I can flirt with you,” you nodded, placing your hands on your closed knees.

Wooyoung driven by desire, took out a 100 Zaire bill from his wallet and waved it your way.

“Open your legs.”

You obliged him, opening them an inch apart, entertained by how impatient he was with your teasing behavior.

“Wider.”

A little bit more.

“Make this worth all our time, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his demanding yet bratty tone, you surprised them all by spreading your legs wide, unfolding them into a flexible split on the surface you were on.

“Fuck,” San swore under his breath.

Wooyoung revealed to you another 100 bill. “Show me.”

Looking him dead in the eyes, you pulled your purple panties to the side, revealing your bare mound to their eyes. Some of them swore, some of them let out a groan and some of them just continued to look while they bite their lip. All of their reactions made you suppress an amused giggle, you kind of feel bad for them but you kept a straight face, not wanting to give Wooyoung the satisfaction of winning in the cat and mouse game you were playing.

“Oh baby,” Jongho cooed lowly, the familiarity of the pet name causing a chink in your armor.

“By the way, we can’t fuck.” You threw the rule out there, enjoying the way the handsome man you danced with was breaking at the seams.

“Why not?” Wooyoung scoffed, eyes on the pretty pink folds of your pussy.

“I’m a stripper not a whore.” You adjusted the panties back to cover you and you closed your legs, deciding to crawl to the side where Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho and Yeosang was.

“Like I told you earlier,” you could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on your ass. “Not everyone gets that privilege.”

Mingi swiped the bills from Wooyoung’s hand and handed it over to Yeosang, who nicely slips it beneath the garter. You thanked him.

“Now, Captain,” you turned to Hongjoong, who was looking at you with his signature smirk and his pretty brown eyes shimmering with amusement. “Tell me, where on earth did you find this arrogant, cocky and bratty thing?”

Wooyoung frowned at the sudden shift in your tone. The way you spoke with Hongjoong was as if you two were familiar with one another.

“Blame, Yeosang.” Hongjoong sipped his whiskey.

“He’s not as bad as you think, love.” Yeosang sweetly spoke to you, his hand moving to tuck a strand of your wig behind your ear to get a better look at you.

“He’s just a little dramatic,” Mingi inputted, tapping at his thigh and like a pet called to their master, you moved yourself to Mingi’s lap, straddling his hips.

“More dramatic than you?” You pouted cutely, running your hands through his pink hair. “So…how long did it take you all to know it was me?”

“Not long. We know your voice anywhere.” Seonghwa answered, quietly admiring you with just a small smile on his face. “But it is a big surprise to find you here out of all places.”

“Hi baby,” you couldn’t hold back your smile anymore as you cupped Mingi’s face with your hands. “Did you miss me?”

“More than you could possibly fathom.” Mingi replied, leaning in to kiss you but you leaned back.

“You can’t kiss me. Well…not here. They’re watching.” You tilted your head to where Jongho sat. “They can see us but they can’t hear us.”

“There’s CCTV on the right corner of the ceiling.” San told the group.

“W-wait. Wait a god damn fucking minute.” Wooyoung exclaimed, looking at you, settled on Mingi’s lap like you belonged there. Were you Mingi’s girl? What were you doing in a place like this? “You all know her?”

You pursed your glossed lips and turned to them, feigning hurt. “You guys didn’t tell him about me?”

“It was a topic that didn’t come up.” Yunho admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s not our fault anyways, Mingi was gatekeeping you.” Jongho added, making the big man in front of you pout, a reaction that made Wooyoung reel at the sight. It was unfamiliar to see their intimidating gunner all soft and not…scary?

“When did he join?”

“Three months after you departed on your mission. We had to make a stop at Jupiter and Wooyoung recognized Yeosang, and he followed him, and now he’s one of us.” Seonghwa answered, eying the size difference between you and Mingi.

“And none of you mentioned me?”

“Mingi was gatekeeping you.” Jongho repeated, making everyone but Wooyoung laugh. He was still trying to grasp the new information of how you were Mingi’s lover and a member of the crew???

“Sure he was.” You rolled your eyes, moving from Mingi’s lap to the round platform to continue your little show for them.

“What are you doing undercover here?” Hongjoong asked, placing another bill on the platform to keep up with appearances and you bent over sensually to pick it up.

Was Mingi okay with this? Wooyoung glanced with wide eyes at their gunner. Was he okay with all of them seeing you like this?

Mingi was watching you with desire. He was reclined so comfortably on the couch, his thighs spread apart as he bit his plump lips at the sight of you entertaining them in the sexy skimpy number you wore. Was this a kink of his? Wooyoung wondered, unable to stop the way his face scrunched at his many unanswered questions.

“Because the information Vix won’t give you, I was able to get.” You told Hongjoong with a smile, and the leaders smirk morphed into a grin. “It’s amazing how flowery words and too much alcohol was all it took. I didn’t even have to take my top off.”

“Good cause I would’ve gauged his fucking eyes out if he saw what was mine.” Mingi growled, hands closing into fists to restrain himself from holding you to him.

“Will you?” Jongho confidently suggested with smirk.

“Will I what?” You coyly smiled, acting innocent.

“Take your top off?”

“Was seeing my pussy not enough for you?”

Wooyoung couldn’t believe the conversation flowing in front of him. He was painfully hard but his confusion and shock had his mind a mess. He didn’t know what thought to entertain or what he wanted to ask.

“Nothing is ever enough when it comes to you, doll.” Mingi muttered, tilting his head a little to the side as if to get a better look at you.

“So you have what I want?” Hongjoong casually glanced at the CCTV keeping watch of all of you.

“Yes I do. The timing of everything is kind of funny. It was Vix I was supposed to be dancing for tonight,” you told them, twirling around the pole. “I was going to get rid of him for you since he’s not of use anymore then I would’ve found a way to get to Xeres since that was your next destination for a restock of supplies on the ship.”

“Well it seems destiny is always in our favor.”

“So shall I finish him off?” San asked, rolling up the sleeves of his button up.

“Will he be any trouble to us if we let him live, angel?” Seonghwa turned to you, licking his lips when you were on your knees, sitting prettily before them.

“He’s not much of a threat. We should be more worried about his boss because he asked for me after I finish with you boys.”

Seonghwa leaned over to add more bills to your garter and San’s defensive posture softened.

“Which is why I’m amazed at the timing of finding all of you here tonight.”

“Is it the first time he’s asked for you?”

They saw your eyes flicker with fear for a split second and you shook your head.

“But he scares me.”

Mingi and San’s aura darkened at your words. It took a lot for you to be scared by someone.

“He knows a lot of things he shouldn’t know. He mentioned and boasted about the Academy when I met him. I was sure then that my cover was going to be blown.”

“So what’s the plan now?”

“Well since I hacked into his data systems earlier in his penthouse just above this club and took more than I came for. At exactly 2:27 am, the club will black out and we can make our escape then through the back door here thats used usually by the dancers to get in and out quicker for shifts.”

“What did you take other than the information about where the Cromer could be?” Hongjoong called your attention while his hand raised slightly in a gesture that the rest understood except for Wooyoung.

“Jongho, can you please hand me my purse please?”

They watched as you opened the bedazzled flap of the purse and took the bills beneath your garter and stuffed them inside, giving Hongjoong a glimpse of a glowing crystal that was one of the most sought after items of the galaxy.

Hongjoong only shook his head with a smile and you decided to turn to the new crew member.

“So, Wooyoung, right?”

He was caught off guard by your sudden attention.

“It’s nice to meet you and I hope we can get along well,” you warmly smiled at him, your pretty face glowing beneath the colored lights.

“Two minutes,” San checked the time on his watch.

“Oh, fun.” You giggled, sitting on the edge of the platform.

“Can you even make a run in those?” Wooyoung glanced at your very high heels, trying to remove the image of your pretty pink pussy that you had flashed to them.

He remembered your exchange from earlier.

What do you taste like?

Like heaven.

It was against his morals to want to fuck someone that was someone else’s lover. You were Mingi’s and Wooyoung couldn’t deny the fact that he was burning with jealousy with the thought of you being touched by Mingi.

“She could kill in those,” Yeosang answered for you. “So back door?”

“End of the hall, camouflaged with the wall.”

“I missed you so much baby.” Mingi groaned getting up and placing his large hands on your waist.

“Me too. More than you know.” Your voice softened, no longer in the facade of the identity you’ve been using.

“Ten seconds.” San announced.

“I’m not gonna let you run around like this.” Mingi slid his hands to your hips, biting his lip at the tiny piece of underwear covering the heaven between your thighs.

“Here, Y/N.” Yunho handed you his blazer. “Wear that.”

“Thank you, Yuyu.”

His blazer was like a dress on you and it made you look so tiny. Wooyoung pushed his hair back, trying to ease his frustration of both lust and knowing too late about who you are. He was also a little scared of how and when Mingi will confront him later because he was flirting with you.

“Good to have you back, Y/N.” Was all Hongjoong said before the whole establishment was enveloped in darkness and the nine of you made your escape.

A small squeak came from you in the darkness because Mingi had thrown you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, and he carried you easily as you all made your exit.

When the bouncer, one of Vix’s goons, checked the room when the power came back on, he began to sweat nervously at the emptiness he was met with. He was going to be in big trouble.

Jongho hijacked a black van and used it to drive the nine of you to where the ship was docked, which was going to be a solid thirty minutes to get to.

Your soft giggles was a pleasant sound to all their ears as Mingi was all over of you in the back of the van.

“We’re glad to have our favorite girl back.” Seonghwa smiled fondly, watching as Mingi attacked your neck with kisses and his hands tickled your sides causing the very missed melodious laughter to fill the van.

The Vice Captain looked to his left to check on the members all of them well and in one piece minding their own business and checking the parameter if anyone was chasing the crew. Seonghwa spotted Wooyoung staring at you and Mingi through the tinted windows, his Adam’s apple bobbing deeply as he swallowed what he could see was envy mixed with desire.

“You okay there?” He quietly asked their new member.

“Huh? What?” Wooyoung responded as if broken out from a trance. “Oh,I- uh, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah. Just…” he paused wondering if he could confide in Seonghwa but the handsome older man’s gentle eyes was hard to say no to. “Just shocked that’s all.” He decided to not share his deep feelings.

Seonghwa knew and could tell that Wooyoung was attracted to you, and he knew he was feeling conflicted for feeling that way especially after seeing how you and Mingi acted.

Wooyoung gave him a small smile before turning to the window again, staring at the buildings they passed by.

As Seonghwa left him with his thoughts, he wondered how he was going to break it to their newest member the true nature of the crews relationship with you. How kind of unorthodox it was….How Mingi was not your only lover but theirs as well.

taglist : @endeav0rsb1tch @eastleighsblog @scarfac3

Thank you for reading! Make sure to like and reblog hehe 💕

#luvtokki;sway with me #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ot8 ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez fic #ateez smut #ateez imagines #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #jongho x reader

928 notes · View notes

diejager · 10 months

Text

König

Reminder : My blog contains dark/yandere content and have 18+ fanfics, so MDNI with NSFW fics. I also do fluff and angst. All my works are fiction : I don’t own any of the characters I write for; there might be triggering subjects - please see the warnings before reading. None of the gifs or visuals I use in my fics are mine.

Your consumption of media is your responsibility and yours alone.

Nav | CoD

[dark, fluff, yandere, nsfw(*), angst, request]

Saccharine and Monstrosity(*) | d,y

Pairing: Dark!Cthulhu König x fem!reader

He found something worth much more than gold and silver, and madness and corruption. He found a pretty little mermaid to brighten up his cold, dark home and care for. To love something he was created to hunt and kill; to care for something he watched from afar; to hold something so fragile between his many, many arms. It’s sinful pleasure, a blasphemous reunion, but he doesn’t care. He wants you, so he’ll have you.

Stepdad!könig & dbf!horangi* | collection - d,r

Your mother marries again and he doesn’t come alone.

Pervy!Roommate!König* | collection - d,r

You like your new roommate, he’s really nice.

Doll AU(*) | d,r

Pairing: dark!Krueger + König x doll!reader

You were once made of porcelain and wax, a precious doll to pamper and care. Now, you are made of skin and bone, a fragile doll to fuck and keep.

Gentle Giant | f

You know König as a different person.

Childhood Friend | f,d,y,r

You know him as well as he knows you - or so you thought.

Helping Hand* | f

Pairing: König x fem!reader x Horangi

Horangi’s stretching you out for König.

Failed Escape* | d,y,r

In moments of fear-inducing adrenaline and hope, you’re driven to escape your captor, but all of your efforts are thwarted in the end and he isn’t as forgiving as he says he is.

Come Back | r,d

Just when you found someone who understood you, who knew and felt your pain, he found you.

Taste* | r,d

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!König x fem!reader

He's an old and rich man wanting to spoil and pamper his sweet baby.

Doctor's Appointment* | r

Gynecologist!König x innocent!reader

You've been having a few issues and you're just so fortunate that Dr. König's a generous man.

896 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 3 months

Text

The Lost Haven (3/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, incest obviously, smut, the angst, description of cruel physical violence, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Song used in this chapter: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

For the next few days, he felt that he was functioning like a well-oiled mechanism without thoughts or feelings, without experiencing or reliving anything within himself. His mind was filled with complete emptiness: he preferred this state of affairs, because whenever a part of him hidden deep in his darkness started to come to the fore, he felt the need to write back to her.

Thank you.

She wrote it to him the next day.

He often went back to that message and looked at it for long minutes, maybe even hours, asking himself the questions his fingers wanted to tap out on the keyboard of his phone.

Who did this to you?

What were you doing there?

How do you feel?

He felt uncomfortable with the thought of how much it had affected him. Their reunion years later was shocking to him, and by virtue of him being the only person who had really experienced this reconciliation, there was something intimate and mysterious about it.

He rubbed his fingers against each other, feeling a shudder at the memory of how soft her skin was beneath his hand.

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to control himself.

"Rough night?" Alys asked, sitting next to him at the bar, like him waiting for the club owner, clearly also having some business to attend to.

They fucked several times, from his perspective to simply get off: there was no finesse in these acts, but some kind of mutual understanding − they both just wanted to relax and didn't expect anything more from each other.

They spoke several times afterwards and he found that he actually liked her: she was a direct and confident woman, teasing and calculating, just like him.

Looking at her he felt he was looking in a mirror and it was an interesting experience.

He knew from his co-workers that Alys also liked women and he often saw her hitting on young girls in clubs.

She at least didn't slip rape pills into their drinks, he thought regretfully, taking a sip of his whisky as he tried to focus, the loud music around him made him feel like his head was about to explode.

"In a way." He muttered reluctantly, looking around, feeling an unpleasant squeeze in his stomach at the memory of her numb body lying in that toilet.

Vulnerable, forsaken, helpless.

"I heard about your heroic act. Apparently, you carried a little girl out of the Heavenly Beach before anyone had time to get into her panties." She sneered, taking a loud sip of beer from her bottle. He pressed his lips together, hearing the loud hiss of bubbles as she set it back down on the countertop. "Since when are you so caring?"

"It was my niece." He replied coolly, wanting to cut off the subject, drinking his whisky to the end in a deep gulp.

Alys furrowed her brow and laughed, stroking her chin, intrigued.

"So you're a good uncle, huh?"

"Fuck off."

"Why are you upset? Do you like her a little too much?"

She hissed as he grabbed her hard by the arm and jerked her, making her almost fall off her seat. He stopped, breathing heavily through his nose when he felt her pocket knife between his thighs.

"You'd better watch out, my friend, if you ever want to fuck anyone again."

He let go of her and she stepped back, massaging the sore place on her arm, looking at him angrily.

"You're fucked up."

He stood up, furious, heading for the back of the club even though he should have waited for someone to come out to him, figuring he couldn't stand to be in this place for a moment longer.

He felt like he was suffocating and wanted to leave already.

Her sleeping face as a child lying next to him on a pillow and her sleeping face then, in his car, leaning against the window, merged into one in his mind.

He realised with horror that only thinking about her made him feel anything.

"How much longer do I have to wait? You think I don't fucking have anything better to do?" He growled to one of the bodyguards, who grunted loudly, shifting from foot to foot, terrified.

They'd all heard about his scar and artificial eye, and they all knew what he'd done to some men who hadn't paid on time.

"I'll ask the boss if he's done yet." The man muttered.

He rolled his eyes as he heard the distinct, almost animal-like moans of two men from behind the door. After a moment, a young boy, all red and welted, walked out of the room, throwing him a look from which he felt discomfort, staggering with difficulty.

Tyland Lannister sighed heavily, standing in the door frame, looking at him disapprovingly, all sweaty.

If it wasn't for the fact that he and his brother dressed a little differently, he wouldn't have been able to tell them apart.

The fascination towards boys was apparently also inherited by both of them, he thought with a sneer.

"I said I'd come soon." He said.

"I don't have time for your soon."

"Jason gave you half the money last time, as agreed. I have to earn the other half, I need more time."

"Your time is up. I told him that you have two weeks, not a day more."

"Come on, we'll get along, after all…" He didn't finish as his fist slammed into his face − Tyland staggered backwards, falling to the floor of the room, and he closed the door behind him, leaving his stunned, big bodyguards behind.

He knew they wouldn't do anything to him.

It was his grandfather who ruled this town.

"Tyland." He said calmly, walking towards him with a lazy step – Lannister began to move backwards on his elbows, holding his swollen cheek with his hand, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose.

He crouched in front of him, pulling out his pocket knife, sliding the blade out.

"− n-no − please −"

"− which one do you choose − left or right? −"

"− please − please, I promise I'll have the full amount for tomorrow, I promise −" He mumbled, choking on his own tears, looking like a big, bearded, helpless, pathetic child.

He tsked, shaking his head, a smile of amusement on his face that didn't reach his eye.

"− we agreed for today − do you think I'll want to come here tomorrow and look at your face? −" He sneered, his voice on the verge of a dangerous hiss indicating that he was losing patience. Tyland nodded, his hands raised in a pleading, submissive gesture.

He looked like a dog who was laying on his back to prevent the other one from biting him.

"− I understand − I'm sorry − I'll think of something right away, okay? −"

"− now −"

"− y-yes − yes, I'll call one place − alright? −" He muttered.

He lifted his pocket knife up, grinning broadly, showing that he was able to wait another moment.

Lannister quickly took his phone out of his trousers and, with trembling hands, dialled a number. After a moment, someone on the other end spoke up.

"I need a quick loan. Twenty thousand. I know, I know I already owe you, but it's very, very important, do you understand?" He mumbled in a breaking voice.

He thought with disgust that he looked pathetic.

What did he expect?

"− please − please, help me −" He muttered, but his caller hung up.

He sighed heavily, spinning his pocket knife between his fingers.

"− time's up −"

When he returned to his flat the first thing he dreamed of was taking a shower. He watched impassively as the red-tinted water ran down his body, washing him of his sins like Saint John in the Jordan. He closed his eyes, trying to tell himself that God was forgiving him.

He had no choice.

He distanced himself from what his hands were doing, as if it wasn't his body, as if he was being directed by someone else. As a result, he felt no remorse, because he felt that he wasn't the one doing all those terrifying things.

It wasn't him who had done it, it was his dark shadow, the same one his niece had feared at night.

The thought of her made him feel an unpleasant sting in his chest. He pressed his lips together in an attempt to restrain himself, leaning his palms against the cold tiles, but his mind showed him her peaceful face again anyway, sleeping in his car.

She was so close he could smell her.

The smell of vanilla.

The next day his mother called him saying they needed to talk.

"Your father wants to throw a big party to celebrate his sixtieth birthday." She said, her voice trembling for some reason, as if something about this fact bothered her.

"Let him do what he wants." He hummed, pouring Vhagar's dog food into her bowl.

"He wants to invite Rhaenyra and her husband. Their children." She said, and he froze and cursed, seeing that he had poured too much, and some of the brown balls had spilled onto the floor.

"− fuck − has he completely lost his mind? −" He asked, running his hand over his face, feeling his heart begin to pound like crazy.

The possibility of meeting her while she was conscious made him feel his mind go into a state of panic.

He wasn't ready.

He couldn't.

He wanted so desperately to see her again.

"− he had already called her and she had said yes − Aemond, things are getting worse with him −"

"− I can just hear −" He growled, walking around the flat, feeling his emotions buzzing inside him.

"− I mean it − he's seriously ill −" She muttered, and he stopped in place, once again feeling the emptiness in his head.

"− what? −"

"− only me and your grandfather know about it − he asked not to tell you − he thinks it might be his last birthday −"

To his despair, his father demanded that everyone come to his birthday party, apparently wanting to put together in some pathetic way what had long been shattered.

Neither his grandfather nor his mother succeeded in dissuading him from this idea − his father rented a large banquet hall in a country manor house, an hour's drive from their town, and decreed that the whole event would be held there.

The manor also had rooms where they were to stay overnight, but he had no intention of remaining there any longer than necessary.

For the next few days, he would wake up in the night drenched in cold sweat, dreaming again and again of cutting her face with a pocket knife despite her screams and cries, her terrified eyes and lips parted in terror, leaving him no peace.

He was afraid of himself and what he was capable of.

He was afraid he would do something to her.

He was the last to arrive, the few missed calls from his mother indicated that everyone was waiting for him. He sat in his car for a long time, looking at the sun setting in the distance, thinking about that evening, that day, hearing the sound of the sea.

He tried not to think or feel when he got inside, all tense, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he felt like he was dying.

He was immediately struck by the loud 80s music − Don't You (Forget About Me), Simple Minds's song playing in the background, made him feel like a child again.

Won't you come see about me? I'll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby

Tell me your troubles and doubts Giving everything inside and out and Love's strange, so real in the dark Think of the tender things that we were working on

Slow change may pull us apart When the light gets into your heart, baby

Don't you, forget about me Don't, don't, don't, don't Don't you, forget about me

He felt a sense of discomfort hearing this lyrics, looking around at the crowd of people, his father's acquaintances, friends and business partners − he knew most of them, now laughing with drinks in their hands, doing disgusting and terrifying things on a daily basis, just like him.

His breath froze in his chest when he suddenly spotted her silhouette sitting at one of the tables.

She was looking at him, dressed in a simple, elegant, knee-length matte dress with long sleeves and a white collar, her long, dark hair loose.

He thought she looked like a miss from a good home, educated, full of culture and familiarity with the world that he lacked, feeling a sting in his chest at the thought.

Don't you try and pretend It's my feeling we'll win in the end I won't harm you or touch your defenses Vanity and security, ah

Her hands clenched into fists at the sight of him, something pleading in her gaze, as much as in her parted, sweet lips, looking so luscious, so soft.

She made a movement as if to rise from her chair, but he turned suddenly, panicking, walking towards the table where his brother was sitting.

"− where the fuck have you been? −" Aegon asked him, he, however, heard him only partially, his gaze returning to her: he swallowed hard when he saw that her seat was empty, but he did not see her either among the dancing couples or anywhere else.

Fuck.

"− are you listening to me? −" He asked, and he nodded.

As you walk on by Will you call my name? As you walk on by Will you call my name? When you walk away

"− there was terrible traffic −" He lied.

He lied constantly.

Lying to himself and others was so easy.

It helped.

It helped him live with what he did.

Who he was.

Aegon and Helaena were talking amongst themselves, he, however, was unable to focus − all he could think about was the fact that he couldn't calm down and needed a cigarette.

He pretended not to hope at all that she had gone out into the garden, that he would meet her there, that he would be able to look at her lips again.

At her eyes.

Her terrified face, the blade of his knife sinking into her skin above her brow.

God, make it stop.

"− where are you going? − you just got here −" His brother called out after him seeing that he was about to leave again.

"− I'm going for a smoke − I'll be right back −"

He stepped outside, feeling the pleasant evening breeze again, and looked around feeling his heart in his throat. He stopped when he spotted her sitting silhouette in the darkness at the end of the pier that overlooked a small pond.

He stared at her for a moment, feeling the urge to run away again, but some part of him that terrified him told him to approach her.

So he did.

Step by step he moved closer to her, as if to something inevitable, his death, his doom.

She turned, hearing him − her eyes widened in shock, her lips parted again, but this time in disbelief. She stood up from her place and he stopped a few steps away from her, pulling a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

"− what were you doing there? −" He asked, but it seemed to him that it was not his mouth, not his throat that left those sounds, cold and dry.

She blinked, as if she didn't understand what he meant, playing with her fingers in a nervous gesture.

"− what do you mean? −"

He slipped the cigarette into his mouth and leaned over, lighting the lighter, the warm flame making its dark tip begin to smoke. He took a drag, feeling that his hands were shaking, that although on the outside his posture was stony, on the inside everything in him was quivering.

"− what were you doing in that club −" He explained. "− looking for a new experiences? −"

She furrowed her eyebrows at his words but did not answer him, which frustrated him.

"− I don't like to ask twice −" He said more sharply than he intended. He saw that she swallowed hard, looking at him with fear and something else he couldn't define.

Her gaze was both terrified and warm at the same time, making him feel a familiar tickle in his lower abdomen that he hadn't felt in years.

God, no, he thought.

"− I wanted to find out how my father died −"

There was a long, uncomfortable silence between them, which was broken by his mischievous laughter. He tapped his finger on his cigarette making the ash fall to the ground and took another drag, its tip turning red.

"− and what did you find out? −" He sighed, letting the smoke out through his nose, looking down at her.

"− that your grandfather killed him −" She whispered in a trembling voice.

His hand froze in mid-motion before he laughed out loud.

"− who told you that? − Larys Strong? − was he the one who dragged you there? −" He sneered as if he was speaking to a small child, seeing with every word by her face full of pain and disbelief that he was right.

He walked closer to her, towering over her, feeling some sudden, strange surge of confidence, his heart pounding like mad with anticipation.

It seemed to him that he was dreaming all this, that he was about to wake up in his bed in his flat.

"− it was Larys who reported him − after the death of his father and brother, all the fortune fell to him − my grandfather just passively looked on −" He said, taking a drag on the remains of his cigarette, looking with interest at her pale face.

He thought her eyes seemed even bigger than they were then, surrounded by a fan of her dark lashes, her eyebrows arched in disbelief, her puffy lips shiny with glitter, probably from some kind of lip gloss, parted in a heavy, drawn-out breath, as if every word he said caused her pain.

"− did you know about this? −"

"− everyone knew −" He replied. "− he passed sentence on himself when he started talking with the police − his days were numbered anyway −"

She surprised him when she moved suddenly in front of him and passed him, bursting into a loud sob, walking back towards the building. For some reason he felt a cold shiver run along his spine, his mind seeming to scream.

Not yet.

He grabbed her aggressively by the arm making her voice stuck in her throat, her body slamming into his as he pulled her violently towards him. They struggled for a moment, his hands tightening around her waist, not allowing her to pull away.

He wasn't done yet.

Not yet.

She squirmed and whimpered, tears running down her red face as he grasped her cheeks between his fingers, able to look at her closely at last, pressing her body against his with his other arm.

Their breaths were heavy and broken when her body finally stopped resisting him, his face bent over hers so that the tips of their noses were almost touching.

"− don't you miss your favourite uncle anymore? − hm? −" He gasped, for some reason wanting to watch her suffer, wanting to punish her for seeing other men, for perhaps fucking other men, for perhaps daring to love them while he thought only of her, her, her.

She swallowed hard, her fingers clenched helplessly on the material of his leather jacket, her warm, soft cheeks all wet with tears under his fingers, her eyes big and shining, staring at him, only at him.

"− I don't recognise you −" She mumbled in a breaking voice. She closed her eyes, tears one by one running down her face again. "− God, I don't recognise you −"

He looked at her feeling his whole body tense up, his heart stopped in his throat − his lips tightened into a thin line as his grip on her cheeks grew stronger, making her cry out quietly in pain. He wanted to say something but was unable to − he just stared at her, feeling himself begin to tremble all over, a burning, embarrassing wetness gathered under his eyelids.

He knew he would be a disappointment to her and that was why he never wanted to see her again.

He didn't want to hear those words.

I don't recognise you.

"− good − because I don't fucking recognise myself either −" He hissed in a hoarse, trembling voice.

He pressed his forehead against hers, wanting to hide, wanting to be close to her, wanting her to forgive him, to tell him that everything would be all right, that she would come to him at night just as she had then.

He waited for her words, but all he heard was her loud breathing, her trembling fingers from his jacket rose slowly to his neck and jaw, her thumbs stroked his cheeks.

Something akin to a soft moan and sigh left his throat as her plump, moist lips ran slowly over his, merely teasing him. His cock responded immediately with an aggressive pulsing at the thought that her lip gloss tasted of strawberries, his eyes closed in delight as his tongue licked her upper lip, letting her know to keep going.

A wonderful, tickling heat rippled across his chest and lower abdomen as she mewled softly, opening her mouth a little wider, finally joining him in a shamelessly sticky, wet, loud kiss full of their slick, warm tongues.

The grip of his fingers softened, still holding her securely while his lips sank again and again into the wonderfully fleshy, silky structure of her skin, her scent, her hot breath, the softness of her body were wonderfully familiar, wonderfully safe.

He embraced her as she threw her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his − she moaned in embarrassment into his throat, letting his tongue invade deep between her teeth as she felt his swollen, throbbing erection on her stomach.

"− it's your fault − it's your fault −" He panted between greedy, aggressive, deep kisses that took his breath away, his wide hands clamped down on her back on the material of her dress, wandering up and down, closing finally on her plump buttocks making her fingers tighten on his short hair.

"− mghm −" She babbled between one lick of their tongues and the next, their lips joined and separated with loud, sticky clicks of their saliva, his hips rolled back and forth, rubbing his erection hidden in his trousers against her body, holding her in place.

This heavenly, shocking pleasure was violently interrupted for him when they heard someone's voice in the distance.

"− are you sure you saw her here? −" He heard Daemon's voice and moved away from her, looking at her in horror, her eyes big, her mouth open wide as if she couldn't believe what they had just done.

Oh my fucking God.

"− yes, I'm sure −" Jace said.

"− I'm here − I'm coming −" She called out to them, running towards them, leaving him alone amongst the evening chill, uncomfortably enveloping his body hot with delight and desire.

Only after a moment did the adrenaline begin to leave his veins, and the thrill was replaced by rage and shame. He groaned loudly, kneeling down and closed his face in his hands, bursting into loud, uncontrollable sobs for the first time in years.

He still loved her.

383 notes · View notes

titanic-angel · 1 year

Text

мιgυel o'нara х F!reader

◥︎ 『 coғғee ︎pт.1 』︎ ◣

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

ѕυммary ➞︎ yoυ вrιng мιgυel coғғee тo нelp нιм тнroυgн a long worĸ nιgнт

warnιngѕ ➞︎ none

noтeѕ ➞︎ part 2 is up ❤︎

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

The evening air was so dry in the summer, and the silence that invited itself into the coffee room buried deep in your skin. The tiles felt cold under your slippers, the setting sun stealing the heat and light from every inch of the room.

You let out a harsh breath, pouring the deep brown liquid into the two cups, staining the white glass with caffeine and steam.

You, Jess, and Peter B had made an agreement since your involvement in the Spider Society had started.

Miguel’s workaholism caused long periods of time, sometimes days, where he wouldn’t even leave his lair, chest deep in his own mind and perfectionism. You all initially believed that his inhumane attributes gave him the stamina to last weeks without rest, but after catching him in deep sleep on his own computer, you realized the goliath wasn’t, in fact, invincible.

So, like any good friends (although Miguel never really used those terms), you took shifts bringing him coffee. With the mugs, Peter and Mayday brought him laughter (all of which was their own, but there wasn’t an indication he didn’t appreciate it), Jess brought him a tough love and a listening ear that fueled his work and you…

Well you weren’t sure what you offered.

You never left without a conversation- and maybe a little coffee yourself. Sometimes he would explain whatever anomaly had taken his attention for the hour, or he would stay silent, listening to you talk about your own day, slightly less exhausting but much more exciting.

Most times, however, you’d give him his coffee, and without saying much, he would look at you.

You are convinced more and more each time that, years ago, his eyes were more brown than they were red. Deep bronze like the color of the coffee in his cup. Younger than they are now. Maybe it was his exhaustion seeping through his irises, but something in the way he looked at you…it felt softer.

Kinder.

You shook off the image as your slippers padded against the hallway marble, the once lively hub now hushed to an empty whisper.

Jess had gone to her universe, undoubtedly resting her weary body, and Peter B eagerly ran home to his beloved red-heads. Homes filled, endlessly, with reunions, warm meals and kisses doused in exhaustion and a love unique to them.

You were happy for them, but you would be lying if you told yourself that you weren’t envious.

Quietly, secretly, you much preferred the hub over your own home, it’s thrum of life filling the emptiness of your crammed apartment. It was depressing to go home to silence after a day of action, which meant many nights you slept in your office, feigning the stress of work and battles to avoid questions from your peers.

You stepped over stray wires and scraps of metal, amongst other abandoned equipment you were sure meant something, once. The dark room was illuminated in neon, flashing lights pulsing across the floor and ceiling.

His gigantic platform came into view, hovering over the pitch floor. The familiar sight of him, surrounded by yellow holograms, greeted your eyes with a brightness that made you squint, vision adjusting to the light.

You caught the butt-end of a conversation, Lyla glitching around his head with attitude. You kept your mouth shut, a little curious to hear their idle chat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Miguel said, flatly.

“Don’t play stupid, I’m an incredibly intelligent A.I. I know fondness when I see it.”

“She brings me coffee- that’s all.”

You paused, muscles tense and the suggestion that they were talking about you.

“I don’t know Miguel~. Peter B and Jess do the same and you aren’t as soft with them.”

“I am not soft!”

“Sure, sure.”

Lyla’s hologram stuttered, and she suddenly focused you. Even from far below, you recognized her mischievous grin.

“Well, I’m feeling awfully tiered. It’s very late y’know! I’ll just let you do your thing!”

“But you don’t-“ Miguel followed her line of sight. He looked down at you with surprise, and you sent him an awkward wave through the cup handle.

“Bye!” Lyla’s drawn out y’s echoed even as she disappeared, Miguel’s hand swiping at the air before she vanished.

He let out a harsh sigh, and you slung up to his platform, handing him a cup. He looked at you again, that faint brown sparkling clearer tonight.

Strange.

“Thank you.”

You nodded, leaning against his table.

“Long night again?” You asked, thumb tracing the smooth glass of the handle.

Miguel nodded, letting another exhausted sigh escape his chest. “Yes.”

You waited for more, but it never came, Miguel shifting near awkwardly as he clicked on the screens with his free hand.

You nodded slowly, taking a sip of your cup. You shuddered, unfamiliar with the pure caffeine. You looked down at your cup, dark brown looking back.

Oh shit.

You watched in short-lived anticipation as he took a sip of your cup. He’s face scrunched in surprise, as if the sweetness of sugar and cream was completely foreign to him.

He looked at you, the red in his eyes more prominent now. Your cheeks strained, but soon the ballon of laughter burst from your chest.

It bounced off the dark walls, echoing around the both of you. You closed your eyes, squeezing out tears as you gripped his desk, laughter shaking your core.

When you regained yourself, you slowly sat up, wiping your wet cheeks and grinning ear to ear. You sighed, small laughs residing with your quickened breath.

“Oh, Miguel you should’ve see your-“

You stopped.

Miguel was smiling.

Well, in the generous sense of the word. Although it wasn’t bright like Peter B’s or gentle like Jess, it was genuine. His eyes crinkled, his lips drawn into a gentle upturn, highlighting his dimples.

Your shocked face must have startled it, because it quickly disappeared, now taught in a hardened, neutral line.

You smiled at him empathetically, slightly guilty you had embarrassed him. You reached out your hand, beckoning your drink.

“Here…let’s switch.”

You fingers brushed at the exchange, and you blushed, the warmth of his skin penetrating your own. If he noticed, he didn’t let it show, taking a quiet sip of his flavorless, bitter coffee.

An awkward silence fell over the two of you, agonizingly different from the laughter just seconds before.

You were beginning to think that he really only was fond of you because you brought him coffee. Sure, you had polite conversation but it never really passed surface level. Not to mention you always initiated it. Maybe Miguel was just playing along, desperately waiting for you to leave him to his work and study.

You sighed, your tone possibly letting on to more than you would’ve liked. You stood, flexing your legs and taking a sip from your cooling coffee, ready to breathe air that wasn’t so endlessly stiff.

“Why- why do you drink coffee with so much sweetness in it?”

You paused, looking at Miguel with surprise. He’d never asked you a question like that. A question about you.

“I uh- well,” you laughed a little bit, still a little startled at the sudden interjection, “black coffee is too bitter for me. The sugar and cream lets me enjoy it.”

“But coffee is meant to energize you, you aren’t supposed to enjoy it.”

You lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s a pretty serious take, don’t you think?”

Miguel paused, lips pressed together in thought before he replied, “I’m a serious guy.”

You laughed, a little quieter now, leaning back onto the table. But this time, closer to him. If you were paying attention, the way his eyes looked at your new position might of told you he noticed.

“I gathered.”

Silence fell over the two of you like a weighted blanket. But now, you had hope that he might want this conversation to continue. That he liked it- you.

“How about this Mr. Serious,” you leaned in, “I’ll give your black coffee another shot if you do the same for my sugar and cream.”

He scoffed, but when the corners of his mouth quirked up you knew the proposition interested him- if only a little bit.

“Absolutely not. I already did try it.”

“First impressions aren’t always accurate, y’know.” You shook your mug, the light brown liquid creating a small whirlpool.

“Try it? For me?”

He glanced at you, and although you thought yourself educated on his eyes and their looks, you were stumped by this one. It was entirely alien to you- there was something in it that you couldn’t place.

You liked it.

He let out a sigh, and held his hand out. You grinned, taking his mug and swapping it for your own.

You both took a sip, and you forced yourself not to wrinkle your nose.

His coffee was extremely bitter- as close as coffee could get to the bean. If his scowl and general demeanor was grown and grind into a beverage, his drink of choice is what it would taste like.

However, it was extremely warm. Somehow it hadn’t cooled off in the fifteen minutes since you had poured it. It’s bitter bliss seeped down your throat and made home in your chest. It was almost calming.

You opened your eyes, surprised to be as content as you were with the drink.

You glanced at Miguel, whose lips were pulled into a tight line. His brows were drawn in thought, eyes glimmering in the hologram light.

“Well?” You asked, rocking on your heels.

“You first.”

You paused, running your tongue over you teeth to remember. “It was a bit gross. But honestly? No bad.”

He nodded, and sighed. “Yours wasn’t….bad either.”

You gasped, a wide smile spreading across your face in stunned victory. “So you liked it.”

“I never said that.” He said, narrowing his brows.

You raised yours. “Didn’t have too.”

He shook his head, handing you the coffee mug. You looked at him as if to ask are you sure? To which he rolled his eyes and pushed it closer to your chest.

You sighed, taking his cup and swapping mugs for the last time. When you looked up at him, sending him a gentle smile, you noticed a thin line of cream that lined his dark lips. You stifled your laughter, stepping forward to a clueless and confused Miguel.

“What are you-“

“Stay put, you have a little-“

You brought your hand up to his face, cradling is course skin under your palm. Your movement stuttered, just for a moment, savoring the feeling of his rough jaw.

You lifted a gentle thumb, your touch but a whisper on his skin as wiped the sweetness from his upper lip. Contrary to his jaw, his lips were soft under your print, molding to your movement with ease.

You imagine they’d taste like coffee.

You paused, your eyes drifting from his lips to his eyes. When they met yours, they were the softest brown you’d ever remember seeing them. It could be how close you were, feeling his slow breath on your nose. It could be how small, short the moment was, catching his facade in a moment of weakness.

But you think, hopefully, foolishly, that it might be how good it felt- to be this close.

You drew your hand away, still staring at the warmth. You settled yourself on the floor, holding your cup with both hands, the once steaming glass now a cold comparison to his face.

“You…you had some cream left on your face.” You laughed weakly, your gaze looking to the side. “I didn’t want Lyla to make fun of you.”

You paused, uncomfortable with the silence your created.

“Sorry.”

Miguel stared at you for a moment, with that same glimmer you couldn’t quite place. He cleared is throat, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips.

“It’s- okay…I-“ He paused, eyes finding your again, “thank you.”

He had whispered, speaking as though if he has said it any louder he would’ve scared you away. It was so- gentle compared to the gruffness of his voice. Warm.

The silence that followed was completely novel from the past dips in conversation. It was full of tension, thick and suffocating. It felt as if you had swallowed cement, every breath trapped in your collarbone and buried in your throat.

You stepped back, your vision so deep in his own- their intensity making it feel as though there wasn’t anything else to look at. Even in their softer colors, they were so deeply overwhelming it felt like they had woken something visceral in you. It wasn’t fear, or terror-

It was fondness.

“Well- I think I need to get my own rest,” you tore your gaze from his, setting your coffee down on the table next to him, “I won’t be needing this- I don’t want caffeine dreams. You’re welcome to finish it- now that you like it. A little.”

You smiled up at him, the thrum of your heart and the heat of your breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, Miguel.”

His chest rumbled, preparing to speak, before he sighed quietly and quickly, another genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Goodnight.”

You took one last look at the brown- intimate and tailored to yours. One look at the coffee cups, different in every sense but comforting none the less.

One look at the man who may have just given you the home you’d been envious of.

As you slung off into the the void, you smiled at it all, welcoming the shudders of warmth that pooled in your stomach at the revelation.

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The next morning, you woke up in your office yet again, the early morning chill crawling up your spine and beckoning you to wake.

The first thing your eyes were met with was your mug, matte in the morning light.

It was empty, a yellow note rested under it.

I didn’t want it to go to waste.

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Part 2

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