#i am fully living in memories right now

[theotherrichardpapen]

nigel & alex - to be haunted by your love

henri nouwen // like minds (2006) // death - melanie martinez // pope alexander - crywank // her mother's kiss - eugene carriere // sometimes i fall asleep thinking about you - catarine hancock // the song of achilles - madeline miller // achilles lamenting the death of patroclus - gavin hamilton // lee martens

[waywardxrhea]

butterfly effect - Spencer Reid

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

part two of Casual

Spencer and Reader's first meeting is revealed along with how both are feeling in the aftermath of the restaurant debacle in part one.

word count: ~6.4k

content: 18+ minors DNI! language, angst! fluff (oh the fluff in this one is sickly sweet - i told y'all i don't like unhappy endings)! smut (i simply could not help myself because i've had this one line stuck in my head for weeks and it just so happened to transition very well in this piece i'm not sorry): oral [male receiving], unprotected PIV, multiple orgasms mentioned.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

now playing: butterfly effect by Sophie Holohan also a hint of vulnerable by Leanna Firestone <3

Then…

You watched as drops of condensation raced down the side of your iced coffee cup, lost in your own thoughts as you ignored the hustle and bustle on the sidewalk to your left. It was a sunny morning on your day off and you were at your favorite local coffee shop, trying to ignore your work responsibilities for as long as possible. You were doodling in the rustic looking parchment journal you had found at a thrift store when you went shopping with Celeste and Maddie yesterday, and you had become enthralled with butterflies once more. 

You had a hyperfixation on the beautiful creatures when you were younger and in some circles were ashamed to admit how much you knew about them. They were just so fascinating and beautiful, how could you not adore them? You knew that this cafe’s outdoor seating area was teeming with them during April due to their migratory pattern as well as all of the plant life they had blooming within all of the scattered pots seated throughout the patio, so it was the perfect time for catching glimpses of the creatures you had lost touch with for many years. 

A beautiful one with black and white coloring and long trailing wings fluttered by and you quickly snatched your cup and journal up as you went to follow the beautiful creature. If your memory served you right it was a Zebra Swallowtail, one you hadn’t seen since your childhood, and you were determined to capture its beauty in your new journal. 

Your journey following the butterfly was short-lived though, when as you quickly exited the patio’s gate you ran smack into someone! You felt your condensation coated cup leave your grip as it was crushed between your body and the stranger’s and your eyes went wide as the drink spilled down their front, completely soaking through the button up they were wearing. And to add insult to injury, the manilla folder that had been in their hands was now absorbing the liquid on the ground. 

With your now empty hand flying to cover your mouth, you began profusely apologizing, saying, “Oh my gosh I am so, so, so, so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! You see, I saw this really pretty butterfly that I wanted to sketch and I didn’t want it to get away but now it has and I completely ruined your shirt and your file and you were probably on your way to work and now you’re going to be late because of me and smell like coffee the rest of the day and oh my gosh I am so sorry I am mortified right now!” By the end of your rambled on apology you had covered your face with your journal, afraid to look up at the person you had run into, especially after such a rambling and childish apology…

What surprised you was the person letting out a soft laugh in response to your rambling before telling you, “If you were going after something in the name of science I can’t exactly fault you for running into me. I likely would have done the same.” 

“You- What…?” you asked, risking a peek over the top of your journal, only to see the smiling face of a boyishly handsome man around your age with cropped and almost curly hair that fell slightly over his eyes. He was gorgeous. His melodic laugh rang out once more and it prompted you to lower the journal to your side fully, risking a glance at the damage your drink did. 

You cringed as you looked at his once pristine and pressed shirt, but your anxious thoughts were interrupted by him telling you, “You were going after a butterfly that you wanted to make an observation of in its habitat. As a man of science I can’t fault you for doing so.” He bent over to pick up his now thoroughly soaked file and offered a small smile as he came back up and added, “I’m Spencer by the way. I don’t exactly follow the science of lepidopterology, but it’s a fascinating subject. Do you study them for a living?”

You offered your name in turn before saying, “Oh, uh, no I- It’s just a sort of hyperfixation I’ve had on and off since I was a kid,” You felt an intense blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks after the admission crossed your lips and you wished that the earth would open up beneath you and save you from yourself. Instead of just keeping your mouth shut though, you rambled on, “And now it’s probably ruined your day and routine and again I am so sorry! Were you heading in? I could buy your drink! It’s the least I can do after ruining…everything.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, I’m getting drinks for more than just me,” Spencer replied as he began opening his satchel bag and pulling out a sweater vest which he put on and covered the coffee stain on his front. “See, good as new. I have a change of clothes at the office anyway. Don’t worry about the shirt.” He waved the folder to get the droplets of coffee off and added, “And don’t worry about the file either. I have it memorized. Eidetic memory. Comes in handy for times like this.”

“Right…” you said, making a mental note to look up what that meant rather than assuming. You nodded awkwardly before gesturing toward the door and heading that way, telling him, “Well I’m gonna head back inside to get a drink to replace the one I dropped. We can at least discuss how I could repay you while we wait?”

“If you insist,” Spencer said before following your lead into the small shop, the little bell above the door ringing out to alert the workers that someone had entered. 

As you waited in line, you cleared your throat and asked awkwardly, “So, uh…what do you do for work?”

“I work for the FBI at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We basically use what’s called profiling to determine why people do what they do, specifically in the realm of killing people,” he told you as if it was a regular old nine to five and not what sounded like the most interesting job in the world. 

“I- Wow! That sounds so cool!” you stuttered out awkwardly. You mentally kicked yourself at the stupid reply, but before you could rectify the situation it was Spencer’s turn to order. You breathed a sigh of relief at the out and began scouring your brain for ways you could repay Spencer for the mishap outside. 

Once you ordered your replacement drink, you cleared your throat and shyly asked Spencer, “How about as an apology I take you to dinner? You choose where. I just feel really, really bad about spilling my drink on you…”

Spencer was silent for a beat before telling you, “I would like that. Thank you.” So before you two parted ways, Spencer wrote his number in your journal beside another butterfly you had been sketching and you sent him off with a warm smile while what felt like a kaleidoscope of butterflies flew around in the pit of your stomach. 

Your dinner with Spencer got delayed when the BAU was requested to work a case in Oregon, but you were fine with that as it gave you more time to grapple with the fact that, no, this wasn’t a date. This was simply a business transaction because you had ruined the man’s clothes and case file. 

When Spencer returned after closing the case, you were finally ready to face the gorgeous man in what you hoped would be a platonic business-like way. That was until you saw his face again and heard his what turned out to be contagious laugh. He told you all kinds of fun facts about butterflies he had learned in preparation to have something to talk with you about and you practically had heart eyes as you listened to him ramble on and on about stuff even you didn’t know about the beautiful creatures. 

The spark you thought was there turned out to be mutual and by the end of the night, Spencer was back to your apartment and between your legs, sending you into the most blissful state you had been in in years. As you learned during your dinner, Spencer had a vast understanding of the human body and mind and it turned out that those skills translated to the bedroom as well. Needless to say, he had completely exhausted you and you fell asleep in his arms under your duvet, your legs entangled as you clung onto him like a koala. 

Waking up the morning after your dinner, Spencer began to come to his senses as he smelled bacon and pancakes being cooked and coffee lingering in the air of your apartment. At first he relaxed into the plush memory foam once more before he sat up with a start. What was he doing? He knew from current and former BAU members’ experiences, relationships while working for the unit were hard. The hours were odd and long, the mental toll of cases could be heavy at best and all consuming at most, and statistically the odds of someone in a relationship with an FBI agent - specifically a member of the BAU - becoming a target of a pissed off unsub was high. What if an unsub took you as a hostage in order to get to him? What if an unsub killed you as some cruel form of punishment for going after them? That wasn’t something he was willing to shoulder onto you, he thought as a shudder shook his whole body. 

But there was no way he wanted to let you go from his life altogether, so when he emerged into the combined dining and kitchen area to see you cooking in just a t-shirt and underwear, Spencer cleared his throat and greeted you with a good morning before asking tentatively, “Hey uh… I was just thinking… With my job with the BAU being what it is, could we…would you mind if we kept this casual? I had an amazing time with you at dinner and in…other places, but it’s historically difficult for an FBI agent to maintain a proper relationship and give their partner the attention they deserve while also giving cases the attention they need. Would…would that be something you would be okay with?” 

Spencer studied your body language as you concentrated on flipping the pancakes in front of you, doing so effortlessly as you nonchalantly replied, “If that’s what is easiest then yeah. I had a really good time last night too.” Relief flooded Spencer’s body at your response and he relaxed into the dining chair a bit more before standing up to pour himself some coffee and prepare it how he liked, content with the new arrangement he found himself in with the gorgeous and thoughtful woman in front of him. 

So that’s how it went on for the following months. Between Spencer’s cases and your shifts at work, the two of you managed to see each other more and more. Sometimes the evenings started at restaurants and some were initiated at either of your apartments when you were feeling particularly needy. 

Even though at first you were truly content with keeping things with Spencer casual, as time went on, you had started to develop feelings for the man. Feelings that sex alone couldn’t tame and that’s when you realized what you knew all along. That those butterflies you felt in your stomach during your first encounter were never a good sign. 

Now…

A knock on your apartment door broke you from your trance of zoning out whatever was playing on Netflix at the moment and you looked up at the clock hanging on the wall to realize it was nearly three o’clock. You had spent most of your day off zoned out in front of the TV lost in your own thoughts when you were supposed to go to lunch with Celeste hours ago. Looking at your phone you noticed all the missed calls and texts and rubbed your tired eyes as you groaned in frustration. 

The knock sounded once again before you heard Celeste’s voice calling out, “Are you in there? Do I need to call the cops for a welfare check?”

You attempted to smooth down your pjs before opening the door and telling her quietly, “No, I’m here. I’m sorry I flaked on lunch I didn’t mean to I just-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Celeste was wrapping you in a hug to end all hugs and asking softly, “What’s wrong?”

This simple question was always your downfall because the second that it was asked the floodgates opened and you began sobbing into Celeste’s shoulder. All of the tears you had denied yourself over the last week and a half finally began to freefall as you clung to your friend like she was a buoy out at sea and she was the only thing keeping you afloat. 

Celeste managed to maneuver the two of you back into the apartment and closed the door as you began rambling through your tight and broken voice, “At the restaurant…when we celebrated Adri…Spencer was there. We…we had sex in the bathroom but then he just finished and left me hanging. No explanation. Then I overheard his coworker call me Spencer’s love toy. He…he didn’t shut down the comment. I just thought I meant more to him than that… So I panicked and left. Almost had a panic attack outside when he came to talk with me. I thought he was going to comfort me but then he just reminded me, ‘no attachments.’” This whole spiel took you the greater part of five minutes to get out between sobs and trying to catch your breath, but Celeste being patient as always gave you her attention the whole time. You took a final deep breath before finishing with, “I really, really like him Celeste… I was a fool to think I meant more to him.”

Celeste thought on your words for the few moments it took to lead you toward the couch. She sat down and brought your head to rest on her thigh, gently detangling your hair with her fingers as she said, “I’m sorry that he made you feel that way. And I’m sorry we didn’t notice something was wrong before now. We’re your friends, we should be there for you through stuff like this.”

“It’s nothing you did,” you quickly told her. “Work kept me occupied this week so I tried to just ignore everything but then today I guess it all caught up to me…” Celeste nodded and you relaxed as she continued to mess with your hair. 

Her silence was broken when she finally said, “Not to play Devil’s advocate, because what he did was not okay, but have you thought about why he came out to check on you when you left?”

This question caused you to furrow your eyebrows together and think about it. Why did he come outside? None of the other BAU members were leaving. It was just him… You cleared your throat and admitted, “I uh… I didn’t think about that.” There was a beat of silence before you told her, “I haven’t told you guys much about his job besides that he works for the FBI, but he’s what they call a profiler. He can tell a lot about a person just by reading their body language. Maybe…”

When you trailed off, leaving your sentence unfinished, Celeste offered, “Maybe he knew you were upset from your body language so he came to comfort you?”

You thought about it for a second before telling her, “I mean maybe, but that wouldn’t explain-” Your sentence died in your throat as another knock sounded through the apartment. “Did you text Maddie or Adri?” you asked Celeste. 

“No,” Celeste replied as you began pulling yourself into a sitting position. “I’ll see who it is.”

As she did you started to realize how dehydrated you were, so you slowly made your way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As you stood, a dizzying feeling filled your head and darkness lined your peripheral vision, but you tried to ignore it as you made your way to the fridge. You vaguely heard the exchange happening at your door, but your attention was caught when Celeste called your name to get your attention. Looking up from your glass and Brita, you saw Spencer in your doorway with a bouquet of flowers and your heart gave an irregular stutter in your chest. “He says he wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” Celeste asked and you could hear the protective nature in her voice that Spencer was no doubt picking up on too. 

“Y-yeah,” you replied, nodding in case she couldn’t hear you across the room. 

“Do you want me to stay?” she asked, eyeing Spencer’s tall form almost suspiciously as she did. 

“I think I’ll be okay,” you told her, offering her a small smile. “Thank you for coming to check on me. I’ll make lunch up to you next weekend.” Celeste nodded hesitantly before grabbing her purse off of the floor where she had dropped it and began making her way out. You were sure she would stay idled in the parking lot of the complex until you texted her that everything was okay, so you made a mental note to do so after this was over. Whatever this was. 

Taking a deep breath, you offered a quiet, “Hi,” to Spencer as he approached your dining area with the rather large bouquet in hand. That couldn’t have been cheap. 

“Hey,” he said, almost as quietly as you did. He cleared his throat and said, “I…I wanted to apologize for what happened last time we saw each other.” 

Nodding, you quickly wiped a stray tear away as you told him, “I was really hurt, Spencer.”

“I know that now. So that’s why I brought you these,” he reiterated as he offered the flowers out to you. “In flower language the white roses symbolize my remorse for what happened, my seeking of forgiveness, and my hope for a new beginning between the two of us. The pink hyacinths represent new love and fresh starts. The white hyacinths represent my wish for healing between us. And the pink tulips represent my asking for forgiveness and the sincerity behind my words.” You tentatively accepted the flowers and took a moment to breathe in their natural fragrance with closed eyes as Spencer rambled on, “Did you know that floriography has been practiced for thousands of years and was even used in theatrical works, most notably Shakespeare? A lot of people take for granted what the flowers they’re giving mean, but the meaning behind each one can offer you a great deal of insight into the mind of the giver.”

You tried to hide the small smile teasing your lips in response to Spencer’s ramblings which you always found endearing by searching your cabinets for a vase to put them in. With your back turned toward him, you cleared your throat and quietly told him, “Thank you. They’re beautiful. I just…” you pulled out a vase and let out a heavy sigh as you brought it to the sink to rinse out and fill with fresh water. “Fucking me in the restroom and just leaving before I got off without an explanation hurt. Hearing what Derek said, calling me your ‘love toy’ and you agreeing to it really hurt. I… I know you said no attachments, but… I’ve spent so much time with you and got to know you and I realized that I can’t do this whole casual thing anymore…” By the time you finished your statement, you had opened the flower food and put it into the water and hugged your arms to your body as you tried to make yourself smaller amidst the palpable tension in the room. 

“I could tell by your body language as you left the restaurant that something was wrong but I didn’t know what but I followed you out regardless because I knew something was wrong and wanted to try and fix it…” Spencer admitted. So Celeste was right about that… You didn’t have time to think about that though as Spencer continued, telling you, “I really messed up by leaving you in there after what I did, and it took me a while to realize what I did wrong because… Gosh now I really sound like an ass saying it out loud.” He scratched the back of his neck as he said, “I had calculated the longest average time an adult male takes in the restroom and was limiting myself to that time limit as we…did what we did in there. I knew that most of the team had seen you pass by and so I didn’t want them to think we were having sex in a restroom of all places. Not that I am ashamed to be with you at all, with you I’ve had the best few months of my life I think, but there are some aspects of my life I would like to keep private from them.”

“Oh,” you breathed out, unable to help the huff of a laugh that escaped your lips at the admission. What a truly Spencer reason to leave you hot and bothered. The bit about ‘the best few months of his life’ made your heart soar once again as you finally looked up to make eye contact with him. 

A smile broke out onto his lips when his eyes met yours and he slowly approached you as he rambled on, saying, “And about the whole response to what Derek said. I panicked. He’s usually the one who has all the girls and is some sort of expert love maker or something, and I’m way less experienced than that. So when he brought it up I didn’t know how to respond so I guess I just blurted out what would make me look cool to him. Which I realized was a mistake far too long after, when the team sort of had to give me a reality check…”

Just the next morning after the restaurant incident left Spencer reeling, trying to make sense of what happened between the two of you, the BAU was called out on a case. After the first two days on the case, JJ approached Spencer as they were packing up for the day and asked, “Spence, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I-” he tried to say but couldn’t finish as Emily too approached him while putting her hand up and shaking her head. 

“You’ve been moody. You don’t get moody for no reason,” she argued. 

“I’m not moody,” Spencer defended himself. 

“Yes you are, you’ve been off since that night at the Italian place. What happened?” JJ asked. By then more of the team had started to gather around and he noticed that even some of the locals had poked their heads up from their work to listen to what was now looking like an intervention. 

Spencer sighed and threw his hands up exasperatedly as he said, “Fine! You wanna know why I’ve been in a bad mood? It’s because she told me to go to Hell and since then I just…I haven’t been able to concentrate. She’s on my mind all the time and I’ve just been trying to figure out what I did wrong so I can fix it!”

“Oh so it’s a lovers spa-” Derek started to say.

“Don’t you go making more comments,” Spencer snapped, which made Derek freeze, the smile melting off of his mouth. “Your ‘love toy’ comment is one of the things that set her off. I know that for sure.”

“Okay so we know that. What else happened?” JJ asked as she took a seat in a chair nearby, seemingly fully concentrated on the conversation now. 

“I, uh…” Spencer faltered, feeling awkward about being open about his sex life in front of so many people seeing as how Hotch and Rossi had wandered into the space too. He felt heat creeping up into his cheeks as he blurted out, “We had sex in the bathroom and I had calculated how long I had before you guys got suspicious about what was happening so by the time that limit rolled around I had finished but didn’t have time to get her there but I still left because I didn’t want any of you to know what was going on.”

The response reminded him of the time they all found out you existed in the first place and he struggled to hear all of the comments. “Spencer Reid, you did what?!” came from Penelope. Emily groaned in frustration as she said, “We already all knew what was happening in that restroom!” One of the locals chimed in with, “Oh come on man, you can’t just leave her hanging like that!” “Yeah, you messed up big time,” was JJ’s snide remark as she leaned her head back and rolled her eyes. 

The chaotic chorus was interrupted by David clearing his throat to get the room’s attention. When the focus was on him, he wisely pointed out, “I think we can all agree that seeking forgiveness is what you need to do here. Do it right when we get back from the case.” The older man patted Spencer on the shoulder before continuing with, “Life isn’t going to slow down or wait for an ideal opportunity to make things right. If you really want things with this girl to work out, then you’re going to have to accept that there may be obstacles in the way and hurdles you both need to jump over. You have a village behind you, kid. A village that is willing to go to bat to protect both you and those you love. We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. The unknown shouldn’t be the reason you hold yourself back from what you really want. So go after her.”

Spencer’s large hands gently took yours into his and when you didn’t deny the touch, he squeezed them and told you, “You aren’t just an object or ‘love toy’ to me. I promise you that.” He took a shaking breath and you looked up to see tears rimming his eyes as he said, “I was just so scared of something happening to you because of my job that I denied my feelings for you. I have been targeted and taken by unsubs before, Hotch’s ex wife who was in witsec was tracked and killed, JJ’s family was targeted just a few weeks after we met… I didn’t want any of those things to happen to you. But I also didn’t want to lose you from my life so I made a deal with myself that we would keep things casual, but I never followed up after that first morning if that was okay with you…”

Tears began welling up in your eyes in response to his words. You knew that he said the job was tough on relationships, but you never thought too into what he was protecting you from… It showed that he truly cared in your eyes. That he had thought this through. 

You were too stunned to speak and the dizzy feeling returned in response to all of the new information. Seeming to notice this, he guided you to the couch in your sitting area and asked, “I trust you know what the butterfly effect is?”

“I do,” you confirmed, curious as to where this was going. 

“Well sometimes I get to thinking and I wonder what the probability of us meeting would have been if that butterfly hadn’t made you spill your drink on me. Think of it as an actualization of the theory. I calculated that the odds would have been slim to none considering how far off our lines of work are from each other and it makes me sad to think that in virtually every other reality we never met. Because you’ve changed my life. And yes, the sex is great, but so is the conversation! You are always so genuinely interested in what I have to say and it’s so refreshing because a lot of the people I’m close to have gotten tired of my ramblings over the years. I didn’t realize until I didn’t have you in my life anymore that I wanted to come home early from cases to be with you, and not just intimately. I wanted to come home to you in my apartment - what would be our apartment. To bring you flowers and your favorite chocolates. To cook dinner with you and watch your favorite movies. To show you my favorite books and read yours in return! I’m usually one to look at the statistics and facts of it all, but just this once I would like to believe that the butterfly effect is real and that it brought us together.”

“Spencer, I-” you started, but stopped as a quiet sob left your mouth and you covered it with your hand. When you regained your composure, you nodded and told him, “I want that too. So much. I want to come home to you reading impossibly fast through my entire book collection. I want to take trips to bookstores together. I want to make your favorite meal when you get home from a case no matter what time of day it is. I want to properly meet your teammates from the BAU. I want it all. Because I-” you stopped your rambling once more before too much came out. 

You didn’t have to worry about it though, because Spencer took the words right out of your mouth as he said, “I love you.”

You felt weightless in response to his confession and you felt the biggest smile break out onto your face before you whispered back, “I love you too.” 

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked as he leaned his forehead on yours. 

“Always,” you replied, the smile on your lips evident in your voice. 

The kiss was the most gentle one Spencer had ever given you and you felt your heart soar and a kaleidoscope of butterflies explode in your stomach once more, reminding you of the day you met. And this time you were sure that Spencer wouldn’t let your soaring heart fall. 

After a few moments though, gone was the gentle kiss that brought you two back together. Soon the kiss was filled with need and desire as you finally noticed the reaction that your body had been having to the man who was now under your hips as you straddled him. Desire once more guided your actions as you moved your hips on Spencer’s, feeling his arousal starting to grow as you lapped into each others’ mouth. 

A low and muffled groan left Spencer’s mouth as he moved his hands to rest on your ass and began massaging in time with the sway of your hips. At the same time as you began to ask, “Can I-?” Spencer was whispering, “I need-” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth before you began moving off of him and down onto the floor between his spread legs, saying, “I take it we’re on the same page then?”

“Yes,” was his instant response as his lust filled eyes looked down at you on your knees between his legs, your hands gliding up his thighs and to his belt buckle. After getting the belt undone you of course took a moment to tease his stiff member, earning a small buck of his hips and a beg of, “Please,” almost whimpered from his lips. 

“How can I no to that?” you asked with a small smile on your lips as you began to unbutton and unzip Spencer’s slacks. When you pulled his slacks and underwear down in one fell swoop, you smiled up at Spencer as you asked, “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?”

“A-a few times. Shit-” he moaned out as you began teasing his head with your tongue, focusing on the spot on the underside just below the head that you knew drove him crazy. When you took him into your mouth fully, one of Spencer’s hands flew right into your hair, lightly tugging as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could. 

You bobbed up and down a few times before hollowing out your cheeks around him and as you did, the grip he had on your hair tightened and you let out a low moan in the back of your throat at the feeling. Spencer’s response was instant, letting out a loud moan into the otherwise quiet room that sounded somewhat like your name. Within seconds though, he was tapping at your temple and whispering, “W-wait. Stop.”

You instantly stopped what you were doing, feeling your heart clench at the words. Wiping the excess spit from your chin, you said quietly, “I-I’m sorry did I do something-?”

“No, no, no you didn’t do anything wrong, I just…” Spencer said as his chest heaved. “I want to do this the right way. I want to make love to you.” 

Your mouth opened slightly in response to the words as you sat back on the floor, shocked at the implication. Before you could come up with a response, Spencer was pulling you up from the floor and coaxing your oversized t-shirt off, revealing that you had not been wearing a bra this whole time which made him groan as he began toying with your now fully exposed breast. He began kissing you once more and a whimper escaped your mouth as he began toying with your hard nipple and you began pushing at his vest and button up, silently telling him to get rid of them. 

During all of this, the two of you began fumbling toward your bedroom, dropping clothes as you went and leaving a trail from the couch to your bed. When the backs of your knees met the edge of the bed, Spencer collapsed on top of you which ended up with you in a fit of giggles as he rolled both you and himself over to be in the bed properly. When you were comfortably on the pillow, you teasingly asked, “So what does love making entail, Doctor?”

“Something more gentle than I usually give you,” he replied as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Something more meaningful,” he added as he pushed in slowly. 

The stretch around Spencer was something you needed a moment to adjust to and he gave you time to do so as he buried his face into your neck and let out what sounded like a relieved sigh. This was already a change of pace. Usually the two of you were so needy, he never gave you time to adjust to his size and you always took the sting in stride with the pounding he usually gave you, but this…this was different. It felt new. It was gentle. 

Wrapping your legs around Spencer’s waist, you sighed contentedly before whispering, “You can move.”

And so he did, starting off with small thrusts that you were sure he was doing so he didn’t lose it right then and there after the oral you had just given him before you started. But then they transitioned into long and languid strokes, almost completely pulling out from you before slowly pushing back in. At one point Spencer grabbed a small throw pillow you had on the bed and lifted your hips to place it under them and from that moment you knew you were a goner. The angle made it easier for him to hit that spongy spot within your walls and you let out an almost pornographic moan when he did. Over and over again. 

“You sound so beautiful,” Spencer grunted out which made you open your eyes to look up at him. You were met with his smile as he reiterated, “You are so beautiful.”

The compliment had your body reeling and you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening as he continued to brush over that spot within you. “Spencer, I-” your words were cut off by a moan when he brought the hand now not supporting his body weight to your clit and began rubbing gentle circles on it. Your breathing began to become labored as the pleasure continued to mount until it was almost too much. “I’m close,” you told him, feeling your core starting to twitch around him as he filled you up so well. 

“Me too, sweet girl,” Spencer panted out, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to your lips. 

As cheesy as it is to say, the tender moment was what broke you. A litany of pleasure filled sounds escaped your mouth that were swallowed by Spencer’s as he picked up his pace just the slightest bit as you began contracting around him, your orgasm ripping through your body in the most intense way possible. Spencer followed behind you quickly, burying his head into your neck once more as he moaned out his pleasure between sloppy kisses placed on your throat. 

Spencer collapsed slightly on top of you, slightly to the side as he slipped out of you, some of his release following suit as you both breathed heavily in the aftermath of what you would deem the most pleasurable sex you had ever had. With hands wandering in mindless shapes over your body, Spencer mumbled into your skin, “I love you. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

“I love you too,” you told him with a smile on your lips. You never wanted to let go of this feeling. 

A few minutes passed of just basking in each other’s warm embrace before Spencer raised his head and kissed your lips, telling you, “Let’s get cleaned up. I’m thinking that after we shower I can take you to dinner? On a proper date?” 

“I would love that,” you replied as he helped you off the bed and into the shower. 

That night after dinner Spencer outdid himself with the love making, somehow managing to drag three more orgasms out of you, each more intense than the last. As you laid there in bed that night with Spencer’s arm draped over you, you silently thanked the world for sending that butterfly into your path that fateful morning.

a/n: thank you all so much for the outpouring of love on Casual! i really hope this lived up to expectations that may have been built after the first part! Derek still hasn't been redeemed and Reader still hasn't properly met the BAU team (especially Rossi who was honestly the MVP here), so i'm thinking we'll see each other again in a potential part three? ;)

part three: Right Person, Right Time

taglist: @spicyspirit @misserabella @lillianacristina @lullvu

those who didn't ask to be tagged but y'all were so kind in the comments so i will anyways to make sure you see this post <3 (apologizes if i am overstepping by tagging)

@lilrios-world @theylovemelody @lea24sposts @espressoparis @crazy4books1 @i-live-in-spite @mega-kittyglitter-1 @rumplereids

[sansaorgana]

— FARE THEE WELL

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You're a barmaid who had a fling with a noble knight a few moons ago. Now he comes back for one more night to spend with you before he leaves to join the war.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s based on the idea for a fic by @peachysunrize that I really liked and since I usually write wife!Readers and noble born Readers in this Universe, it felt nice to explore a new trope. I couldn't help myself to make it a bit angsty as well, for which I am sorry... 🙈

WARNINGS — angsty ending, SMUT, bath sex, slight choking

WORD COUNT — 5,420

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FARE THEE WELL

It was a nice and peaceful afternoon at the Tavern where you worked. The sky was blue and clear with only a few clouds and a slight wind was messing with the reckless strands of your braided hair whenever you went outside with the mugs full of beer and bowls full of food for your customers. 

“There are men coming,” your boss told you after walking downstairs. “I saw ‘em from the window. A few knights on the horses that will need water and hay. They have King Aegon’s banners,” he rubbed his hands together. “This war’s good for business,” he hummed to himself.

You only nodded at that and wiped your hands in your dirty apron. The war could be good for business indeed but it also meant lots of work with demanding knights and noblemen although you hoped for some generous tips if only you acted nice enough.

“Make it look presentable, will ya?” Your boss barked at you at the sight of the counter. The crumbs were scattered all over the surface and it was sticky from the beer.

You nodded obediently and cursed under your breath when he turned around. You collected all the crumbs with the side of your hand and threw them away into the bin nearby where you kept your waste before taking it out. Then, you began to clean the counter with the damp cloth.

Busy on taking care of every little sticky spot because your boss tended to be a perfectionist, you forgot about the men coming to the Tavern already. Therefore, when the doors opened loudly, you got startled and jumped in your spot before looking up.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the familiar looking armours. You had known once a man who was wearing armour like that – green and silver with golden ornaments and a symbol of the lighthouse on his chest. You had to blink a few times to snap back to reality.

“It is my favourite Tavern in these parts,” one of the men announced and your heart skipped a beat. Oh, you knew that voice but… Was it possible that it was your mind playing tricks on you?

He took his helmet off and rested it on his hip, holding it with his left hand as he ran his right hand through his auburn hair and you gasped.

Ser Gwayne Hightower. Oh, you knew that man.

It had been a few moons ago when you had met him. He had been staying with a Lord living nearby, discussing the matters such noble men usually discussed. He had been trying to explain it to you on those nights spent together in one of the rooms upstairs but you had never fully grasped it.

What you had understood from his story was that he was the eldest son of Otto Hightower who had been King Viserys’ Lord Hand at that time. He was running Oldtown in his father’s name and sometimes he travelled to different parts of Westeros to meet with the vassals and to make the new ones. You remembered that you had asked him about his wife but he had assured you of having none.

You could feel your cheeks heating up at all the shared memories from all those moons ago. You hadn’t expected to see him again ever in your life.

It was not like you were sharing bed with every man visiting your workplace. It was a Tavern, not a brothel and you were only a barmaid, not a whore. But Ser Gwayne was different. From the moment you had seen him, you had known he was special. Something about him was making you feel the way no other man had ever been able to make you feel. He was worth risking everything.

And to him you had been only another adventure, a girl to warm his bed while he was away from home. At least in the beginning. With time, after many nights spent together on talking and fucking, he had started to grow fond of you. He had admitted that himself. He had been confused by what he was capable of feeling towards a common barmaid. And you had been surprised by that as well.

His blue eyes searched the room and then he spotted you, right behind the counter. He smiled at you and walked up as you straightened your back, with the damp cloth still in your hand.

“Well, well, well, and look who’s here,” he looked you up and down with a smug smile. You furrowed your brow, a little confused by his approach. Not that you expected him to pick you up and spin you round. After all, you were no Lady, you were no Princess. “Cole?” He beckoned over another knight.

His armour was not a Hightower one but it was also grand. He had short black hair and big, brown eyes.

“That’s our new Hand of The King, Ser Criston Cole,” Ser Gwayne introduced you and you panicked at first. You had no idea if it was some jestering or was he serious, so you decided to bow down slightly and Ser Gwayne chuckled at you. “And that is my favourite… barmaid,” he introduced you and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

His arrival was not as sweet as his departure all those moons ago when he had nearly had tears in his eyes while kissing your hand goodbye. He had made you feel like a Lady then.

Now, he made you feel like a common whore. And that had to be what The Hand thought as well when he was nodding his head at you. Ser Cole didn’t spare you any more glance and he walked away to sit by one of the tables with other men.

“We shall stay here for the night,” Ser Gwayne informed you and your boss standing behind you.

“That is an honour, Ser,” your boss nodded. “What are you in need of?”

“We want food, beer, baths and rooms to sleep in,” Ser Gwayne threw a few coins on the counter carelessly. “Our horses require tending as well.”

“I’ll fetch them some water and hay,” you cleared your throat and put the cloth down before fixing the reckless hair strands on your hair and walking out as quickly as possible.

Ser Gwayne’s confused eyes followed you but you didn’t look back since you already had tears in your own. All those moons of remembering a sweet, chivalrous knight who had stolen your heart… All those moons of dreaming about him and missing him… The fantasies and memories had all been based on an illusion. It did not feel nice to realise that.

You entered the stables and saw beautiful, armoured horses. They looked very elegant and you were taking your time with petting and feeding them. You wanted to spend as much time in the stables as possible. It was quiet there and the horses would never hurt you the way certain humans would.

As you were caressing one of the horses gently with your hand and watching him eat with a soft smile upon your face, you heard footsteps behind you. You sighed, assuming it would be your boss or another barmaid he had sent after you. But no, when you turned around, you saw Ser Gwayne himself; his face lit up just slightly from all the candles inside the Tavern next to the stables. The sun had set already while you were with the horses.

“Do forgive my tardiness, good Ser,” you cracked a smile at him.

“Sweet darling, why are you addressing me like that?” He approached you and stood right behind you. His hands touched your arms as he breathed in your scent. You were confused.

“Me, Ser Gwayne? Hasn’t it been you treating me like a common whore? Why are you back here, Ser, by the way? Were the brothels all busy or perhaps is our King Aegon running out of coins in his treasure, so you wanted to go back to a silly barmaid who is giving herself to you willingly, free of charge?” You asked but it was not asked with anger – your voice was filled with hurt as you looked down.

“Aren’t you adorable,”Ser Gwayne only chuckled before leaning in to cup your chin and force your head to turn around, gently. You looked up at him and he joined your lips together in a sweet kiss. 

You gave in immediately and you hated yourself for it but there was something so charming and alluring about that man… You couldn’t deny yourself a gentle kiss from his lips.

“My sweet,” he cooed to you, looking intensely at your face with so much adoration that you couldn’t believe that a man as noble as him was capable of it. Such a look on his face should be reserved for the Princesses or pretty Ladies he would win tournaments for. Certainly not for you. “I couldn’t possibly reveal how much you mean to me in front of everybody, could I?” He explained to you. “There has been no day for me without remembering you, sweet (Y/N),” he whispered and your name had never sounded so pretty in anyone’s lips.

Your name was usually shouted by men rushing you to bring them their orders faster or by your angry boss. You had never expected to actually get a taste of what it would be like to be a real Lady. But when Ser Gwayne was whispering your name in such a delicate manner, you suddenly were a noble woman and your heart was at peace.

It brought heat to your cheeks immediately and you looked away since his gaze was getting too intense.

“I have been thinking of you, too, Ser Gwayne,” you confessed. “I have been praying to the Warrior for you and… to the Maiden… for myself.”

“Oh, have you?” Ser Gwayne chuckled and bit on his lower lip. “If I removed your skirts, I would find your knees scratched then?” He teased you.

You were taken away by his straightforward words and you walked away from him to finish your work with the horses but he kept standing there and observing you.

“I am on my way to war. A real one like I have never experienced before,” he confessed. “A real one like I have been trained to take my part in ever since I was a child, wielding a wooden practice sword.”

“It is a dangerous war coming, Ser,” you nodded, focusing on pouring the water for the horses. You didn’t want to look up and meet his gaze because you would burst out in tears if you saw his face now. “People talk that the dragons shall dance in the sky and it will be nothing but blood and fire,” you mumbled out. You didn’t want Ser Gwayne to leave for such an awful, horrible war.

“You do realise then that simple men like me do not stand a chance,” he tried to be playful about it.

“I do not wish to speak of it, Ser,” you interrupted him and shook your head, sniffling your tears back.

“Me neither, sweet (Y/N). I want my one last night of peace… Or at least an illusion of it. And I couldn’t imagine it anywhere else other than here. With you,” he informed you and nodded his head before walking out of the stables.

This time you hurried with the horses and you came back inside the Tavern as fast as possible. Your boss gave you an unpleasant look.

“What has taken you so long?”

“They’re no common horses. They’re fancy,” you rolled your eyes at him, coming up with excuses. “They demand special treatment,” you chuckled.

Your eyes sparkled while letting out that laughter and you spotted Ser Gwayne by one of the tables. Your gaze met with his for a brief moment and your whole body filled with so much warmth and nostalgia that you nearly exploded right there, in the middle of that awful Tavern. 

Ser Gwayne would forever remain your what if. What if you had been born a Lady. What if he had been born a peasant. You would still love him, of that you were sure. If he was a miller, a smith or a carpenter, you would marry him in a heartbeat and perhaps your lives would be much simpler than as a Lord and a Lady.

Ser Gwayne beckoned you over with a wave of his hand and you fixed your skirts before approaching him. Some of his men were staring at you as well but you only cared for his blue eyes. Here, in the light of the Tavern, he looked even better than in the stables.

“Are you busy mayhaps, fair maiden?” He winked at you and you were trying very hard not to roll your eyes at the question.

“Depends on what you’re asking of me, kind Ser,” you bowed your head slightly.

“We have a long road ahead of us,” he answered. “I would love a long and relaxing bath.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw some of his men smirking. You just nodded your head at his words.

“I shall ask one of the girls to prepare it for you, Ser,” you teased him, pretending to sound as serious and professional as possible.

“Oh, no, no, my sweetling,” Ser Gwayne reached his hand out to squeeze yours. “You shall go upstairs now and prepare me one,” he told you.

“If you insist, Ser,” you bowed your head and turned around with a soft smile to approach your boss who was busy counting money at the moment.

“Ser Gwayne asked me for a bath,” you informed him and he only nodded without even looking up at you as he dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

You grabbed your skirts in your hands and rushed upstairs where some other girls working at the Tavern were busy with preparing the rooms for the knights.

“Which chambers are Ser Gwayne’s?” You asked and one of them pointed at the ajar door at the other side of the corridor. 

“I’ve just finished preparin’ it,” she informed you and you smiled at her.

“Ser Gwayne wants a bath,” you told her. “Go to the kitchen and bring me buckets with warm water.”

She nodded and hurried downstairs as you entered the chambers that were prepared for Ser Gwayne. They were one of the nicest ones that the Tavern had for the guests but you knew it had to be nothing compared to his chambers in Oldtown.

However, walking around those chambers was bringing memories to you as you smiled to yourself. All those moons ago he had been staying in these chambers as well for some nights. And perhaps for him those were just dirty rooms at some common Tavern but to you those were the fanciest chambers you had ever slept in.

Your dreamy pacing around was interrupted by the arrival of a few girls carrying buckets with warm water. They placed it on the floor and went back to their other duties as you approached the bathtub and began filling it. You sat on the edge and took your time with it like you had before with the horses. You wanted to cherish every moment of that sweet gesture you were doing – taking care of Ser Gwayne. Like a wife would.

Well, perhaps noble wives were not known for such activities. But if you were peasants like you had imagined before, you would be the one responsible for preparing his baths every other day. And you would do it gladly, without complaints. You would love to take care of him when he’d be back from work, dirty and tired. But none of that would matter since you would have him for yourself and you would have him every day, falling asleep in his arms and waking up in them.

The door opened slightly with a squeak and you looked up to see Ser Gwayne himself walking inside with a loving smile.

“You look really domestic like that,” he told you before closing the door behind him.

“Do I, good Ser?” You asked with a sad smile as you dipped your fingers in the water to check its temperature.

“Will you help me to undress?” He asked of you and you nodded, although awkwardly.

You were not familiar with all those armour pieces, however you had a small experience in taking them off of him already. You approached him and started to work on his armour piece by piece, painfully slowly. You were glad the water your friends had brought was boiling hot because you didn’t want him to whine about it being too cold later but you also didn’t want to rush this moment.

“Your fingers are so soft,” Ser Gwayne pointed out when you were working on a chest piece. “Softer than my squire’s for sure,” he chuckled.

“I know it is surprising for a commoner to have soft hands, Ser, but I work a lot in the kitchen and the butter tends to soften the skin,” you explained.

“You must look pretty in the kitchen,” Ser Gwayne pointed out and you looked up at him, questioningly. “With flour on your cheeks and nose, busy little bee,” he explained.

“Who would have thought that a noble knight would be into that,” you commented with a smirk.

“There is still a lot you ought to learn about me, (Y/N),” he whispered. “Would you cook or bake something for me if I asked you to?”

“I would bake you bread and those cakes you liked so much the last time you were here,” you looked up to meet his gaze. He blushed a little at the remark about cakes. “What? You are spoiled, kind Ser, that is not a secret. But I would happily spoil you myself, too.”

“Perhaps I should take you with me to Oldtown and hire you in The Hightower. I think you would like it there, my sweet,” he teased but his voice was more serious than you expected. “Perhaps I shall fetch you on my way back home after the war is won.”

“Perhaps,” you shrugged your arms. “My whole family lives here, however, and Oldtown is far away.”

In fact, Oldtown was like a place from the fairytales to you. It was far, far away and you would never really go there, realistically speaking. And it was a place where your Ser lived and in your imagination it had to be a beautiful and lively place… It was out of your reach in many ways.

A short, awkward silence occurred after that as you worked on the last pieces of his armour and there he stood, only in his underwear. You bowed your head at him.

“I believe my work here is done, Ser. I would recommend getting into that bathtub before the water gets cold,” you advised him.

“Oh, my sweet, won’t you stay to help me wash my back?” He grinned at you and you cracked a smile.

You were hoping for such words. So, you did not leave but stayed, with your hands clasped in front of you as you watched him get undressed completely. You tried not to give any reaction to his naked body while you watched him get inside the bathtub and let out a groan of pleasure at the feeling.

“Come here, sweet little thing,” he beckoned you over and you approached the bathtub slowly. “Join me,” he encouraged.

You hesitated but only for a second and you began to undress as he watched. His eyes were looking you up and down and you started with the apron. You wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible because it was the worst piece of your clothing, an awful reminder of your low status.

The blouse was next and then your skirts. Your corset was loosened from the whole day at work so it slipped off very easily. You were left in your underdress only but you untied your braid before taking it off as well and there you stood, naked and with your hair down as your eyes boldly met his. He had a smug smile on his face.

“You’re still as beautiful as I remembered,” Ser Gwayne remarked and reached his hand out to brush your knee with his fingers. “Come to me,” he invited you.

You joined him in the bathtub very slowly, starting with your right foot and then the left one before lowering yourself and sitting on the opposite side of Ser Gwayne.

“Your knees are scratched indeed,” he pointed out and you chuckled.

“They always are, Ser, for I am a barmaid. I spend half of my days on my knees, washing the floors,” you explained.

“Those pretty knees were made for different things, my sweet,” he assured you with a smirk as he moved a little closer to you.

He grabbed your knees softly and then he pulled you closer to him as you yelped and some of the water splashed out on the floor. You giggled and threw your hands around him to clasp them behind his neck as your faces were so close now that your noses brushed.

“And what have you been up to, kind Ser? Have you gotten married? Fathered a son?” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“All my thoughts have been occupied by a pretty barmaid,” he confessed and caressed your thighs while you hummed to yourself.

“Oh, have they? And who is she? Is she prettier than me? Is she lovelier than me?” You rubbed your nose with his as you asked, playfully.

“She is exactly as pretty as you. Exactly as lovely as you and she even has your name,” Ser Gwayne answered before stealing a kiss from your lips.

The kiss started nearly innocently but it quickly turned into a more passionate one. It didn’t want to end and you turned out to be gasping into each other’s mouths as your hands tugged onto his hair and his fingers squeezed the soft flesh of your hips, pulling them as close to his body as possible.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathed out and moved his hands up to cup your breasts. “I’ve missed all of you. Your body, your voice, your smile, your cunt,” he confessed and his obscene words made your cheeks heat up.

And not only your cheeks. Your whole body was on fire now. To have him so close and to feel his hands on your skin was enough to make you feel dizzy. You let go of his hair and you placed your hands on his chest to push him gently. Ser Gwayne leaned back and you sat astride him, making sure that his hardening cock was brushing your soft thighs.

“My cunt’s been missing you, too,” you whispered before joining your lips together once more.

You kissed him sloppily, with your tongue and teeth clashing. One of your hands was placed upon his chest for balance and the other you moved down to grab his cock. He let out a moan into your mouth when you started to pump his length. You could feel it growing harder and harder.

Ser Gwayne kept his hands on your back but now he let them run freely all the way down as he cupped your ass and squeezed the soft flesh. His fingers wandered all the way down and brushed your folds, teasing your entrance in a way that was making your pussy throb in anticipation already.

“Have you taken another cock since our last time?” Ser Gwayne asked you and you sincerely shook your head. “Aw, my sweetling, you must be so eager,” he teased.

“And what about you, Ser? Have you been good?” You smirked at him. 

You knew already that in the intimate moments the power difference between you two due to your birth status did not matter anymore. In fact, Ser Gwayne liked it when you challenged him.

“There is a brothel in Oldtown I find very enjoyable,” he confessed and bucked his hips slightly when you picked up the pace of your hand wrapped around his cock. “But none of these women could give me what my sweet little barmaid had given to me,” he added.

“Your sweet little barmaid would not be as special as you claim her to be if any common whore would give you what only she can give you, Ser,” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“I even chose the ones who looked like you – who reminded me of you – but they were doing nothing to me,” he breathed out and you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his.

“Aw, you must be so eager,” you teased him with his own words and a smirk as you guided his cock to your cunt.

You both gasped in unison at the feeling you had been missing for so long. His cock twitched inside of your wet, warm pussy that welcomed him with spazmatic throbs. You threw your head back and dug your fingernails into his shoulders, savouring the feeling of fullness.

“Fuck, my sweetling, aren’t you perfect,” Ser Gwayne mumbled out and you looked down at his face through your lashes. Your eyes were hazy from lust and the look you gave him had to be as sultry as if you were one of the whores who had only been pretending to be you in those past few moons.

Keeping your intense gaze on him, you began to move your hips up and down until you found your steady pace and continued to bounce on his cock as the water splashed. Ser Gwayne helped you to ride him with his hands on your hips but he quickly got distracted with your breasts that were right in front of his face. He moved his hands up to cup and squeeze them while you hissed at the feeling.

Feeling confident in your pace and rhythm, you let go of his shoulders and moved your hands to his neck. You looked into his eyes, searching for the confirmation and he nodded at you slightly, so you squeezed your hands a bit. He had taught you all those moons ago how such a simple action would increase the pleasure. You watched with satisfaction as his eyelids fluttered before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a deep groan.

Your back arched as if you were a cat when you lowered yourself onto his body to feel more of him and to allow his cock reach deeper inside of you, brushing your sweet spot with each thrust. Your breaths were nothing but gasps now, accompanied with soft moans coming out of your parted lips. Riding him in that bathtub, with your hands around his throat and his pretty, flushed face right in front of yours, suddenly nothing else mattered – this Tavern did not, these chambers did not either and certainly all his titles mattered the least. This life and the world were so complicated sometimes but at the end of the day all that mattered was this – two people being close with each other, intimate, sharing pleasure.

“Gods,” you let out a shaky whisper when you felt a knot forming in your abdomen. Your sweet release was close after all those moons of missing him with every fibre of your being. 

“Let go for me, my sweetling,” Ser Gwayne encouraged you, his voice was raspy from your choking as he forced his hazy eyes to open and watch you coming undone for him with a loud moan.

You threw your head back and kept riding him while your cunt clenched around his cock and your hands squeezed his throat even tighter. That sensation and the sight of your face was enough to make him reach his high, too. He spilled himself inside of you and your cunt milked him eagerly, taking in every single drop.

The movements of your hips slowed down gradually and Ser Gwayne’s cock softened inside of you but you had no strength to move. You laid down on his chest and tried to catch your breath, still shaking slightly. He wrapped his strong arms around you and caressed your back, letting his rough fingertips wander up and down your spine.

“The water’s getting cold, my sweet,” he pointed out after a while.

You raised your chin up to meet his gaze with a delicate smile.

“You are so spoiled, Ser,” you remarked. “I believe you have never taken a cold bath.”

He winced at that and you chuckled before placing a kiss on his throat, where your fingers had been pressing not so long ago. After that, you moved up and left the bathtub although your legs remained pretty shaky.

You leaned down to pick up your underdress but Ser Gwayne stopped you.

“Don’t,” he said, getting out of the bathtub himself. “You shall stay here for the night. I am not yet done with you.”

It was early morning and you were feeding the horses in the stables. The sun was barely up but the knights had to come back to their camp before leaving with the rest of the men and continuing their march. You had barely had any sleep on the previous night but you did not complain about it.

“I knew I would find you here,” Ser Gwayne walked inside when you were caressing one of the stallions. “I wanted to give you a proper goodbye,” he walked up to you.

You looked up at his face and you smiled to yourself. He looked pretty tired himself and you knew the reason behind that. But the exhaustion was not making him any less handsome.

“Fare thee well, my kind Ser,” you turned around to squeeze his hands that he had reached out for you.

“Can you give me your blessing before I leave?” He asked and there was surprisingly no teasing in his voice.

“I’m no Princess nor a Lady,” you looked down slightly as your cheeks heated up.

“I do not care. I will not be at peace without your blessing, my sweet,” he insisted.

“I do not have a handkerchief to give you, Ser,” you looked up again as you confessed and stood on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his forehead. “That is all I can offer.”

“That is more than enough,” Ser Gwayne smiled sadly at you. He let go of your hands and reached to his chest. He took off a necklace that he was wearing – a small ring on a chain. You had asked about it all those moons ago and he had confessed then that it had belonged to his Lady Mother once. “I want you to have it,” he gave it to you and you froze.

“I… I cannot accept it, Ser,” your eyes widened.

“You must for I insist,” he closed your hands around it and squeezed them. “You shall give it back to me when I visit you after the war,” he bit on his lower lip as he looked at your face in anticipation, curious of your reaction.

“That is… The most generous,” your eyes filled with tears. “I shall keep it safe for you, Ser,” you promised.

He nodded at that and watched you put the necklace around your neck before he took your hand and placed a soft kiss upon it as if it was a hand of a Princess or a Lady and not a common barmaid.

“Farewell, my sweetling,” he whispered.

“Farewell, Ser Gwayne,” you whispered back.

You stared into each other’s eyes for a while and then he nodded at you again and moved away at the sound of other men walking inside the stables.

You watched them mount their horses but your eyes were truly only on him and he kept watching you from the corner of his eye, too. You walked outside to observe them as they rode away and Ser Gwayne turned around one last time before disappearing down the road. You squeezed the ring on the necklace in your hand and your heart moved all the way up to your throat, forming a lump that was hard to swallow.

A few years later you would give the necklace to your son – alongside with the tale of his brave and noble father from Oldtown.

MASTERLIST

[whateveriwant]

Idk if you're taking requests, but here I am. Maybe TF 141 with an S/O who has ADHD and when going places, like a mall, for example they'll just completely walk away and they'll just loose their S/O

I took 'reader who is always walking away' and ran with it… ba dum tss (sorry, I had to). Anyway, I hope this is sorta what you were looking for! I was in a Christmas-y mood so all of these are winter/holiday themed!

Price

The park is especially busy for a Friday afternoon. There's children playing in the snow, daring youths having a go on the frozen lake, and families everywhere making memories to last a lifetime.

You've only been sitting on this bench for roughly a quarter of an hour before Price starts to squirm beside you, something clearly making him uncomfortable. Before you can even ask what it is, he's standing from the seat in one brisk motion.

“Be back in a moment, darling,” he grumbles. “The cold makes me need to piss like a stallion.”

As he takes off to find a place to relieve himself, all you can do is laugh and call after him to, “Wash your hands!”

Five minutes and one desecrated tree later, he emerges from the secluded thicket of bushes he found, zipping up his fly discreetly. He makes his way back to the bench you'd been seated at, a bit of a spring to his step… only to deflate once he discovers you’ve disappeared into thin air.

He sighs out loud – a long, drawn-out sound. He could say he's surprised but then he'd be lying. He knows you and your tendency to wander off; this is nothing new to him. Now it's just a matter of finding you again… for the third time this week, he remarks internally.

He would try calling you but he already knows you forgot your phone at home. He's got to get better about reminding you to take it with you whenever you leave the house, especially if he's constantly having to chase after you like you're some sort of loose gerbil.

Thankfully, he sees a set of footprints which he believes to be yours leading away from the bench. So, with no better clues to guide him, he decides to follow after the tracks, hoping they'll lead him right to you.

It's not long into it that he hears a sound in the distance, sort of a low, pleasant humming that grows stronger the closer he gets. It's only a minute or two later when – eureka! – he finds you standing with a small crowd who've gathered to listen to a group of carolers.

Ahh, of course. He should've known. You just can't resist a good live performance. Like a siren calling to you in a storm, one way or another, you'll always find your way to them.

Price easily sidles up next to you, flashing a smile when you briefly turn to take notice of him. His hand finds the small of your back as he joins you in listening, enjoying the festive songs performed by the carolers.

You're standing for a while, attention fully drawn to the singers ahead, when at some point you lean into Price’s ear, your voice lowered to a whisper.

“You washed your hands?” Your question is earnest, if not a little playful.

In response, and with a tone most firm, he declares simply, “...Yep.” Though, the way his hand slips from your back and into his coat pocket reeks of something awfully similar to guilt.

Ghost

You're on your 15th row when you spot it. There, standing not quite two and a half meters tall, perfectly green and dense and conical: your Christmas tree for the year.

An excited squeal leaves your lips and you swiftly run up to the tree to admire its beauty. “This is it! This is the one! Oh, isn't it just perfect?” you say reverently.

“Hold on a minute, love,” Ghost tries to rein you in as he lags a bit further behind. “Isn't that wha' you said about the one a few rows back? Wha' about that one?”

Oh yeah! You forgot all about that tree!

Well, now that he's reminded you, you want to do a little comparison. You tell him to stay put and guard this one while you quickly run back to check out that other one.

Two, five, nearly ten minutes pass and you haven't returned, much to Ghost’s chagrin. He thinks his bollocks must’ve shrunk three sizes by now from how long he's been standing out in this freezing cold.

After a dozen or so minutes, he tries ringing you, just to make sure everything’s alright. When there's no answer on the other end, he tries again, but is met with the same silence that has a streak of alarm bolting up his spine.

Ghost has always been a worrywart when it comes to his loved ones, and that concern only amplifies when it comes to large crowds and even larger spaces.

What's taking so long? Where have you gone? Are you lost? Hurt? Something worse? His mind begins to spiral.

Fuck it, he decides, and abandons the tree in order to seek you out. As he searches, row after row yields nothing but strangers and snow-capped firs. By now he's starting to fully panic, running around like a maniac, drawing the eyes of everyone in the lot as he yells out your name.

When he finally runs into you again – literally runs into you – he's out of breath, his heart pounding, and he grabs your shoulders with his strong hands and nearly shakes you out of your knitted cap.

“Don't scare me like that!” he's more exasperated than angry, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thought somethin’ might've happened to you,” he confesses, holding you to his chest like he thinks you'll evaporate if he lets go.

“M’sorry,” you mumble into the wall of hard muscle. “Got distracted.” The excuse is as weak as your skeleton feels beneath his embrace.

Distracted? What could have possibly distracted you enough that you didn't hear him screaming your name?

You pull back just enough to look at him, a sad curl to your lip that he can tell is forced. “I saw the cutest French bulldog,” you say, and Ghost has the audacity to scoff. “No, really! He was wearing the most adorable little Christmas jumper, and his name was Bark-tholomew. Bark-tholomew!” you stress.

Now that he knows you're safe and sound, Ghost loosens his hold on you, closing his eyes as he feels his pulse begin to slow.

“I asked the owners for a picture. Do you wanna see him?” you add hopefully.

When Ghost opens his eyes again, he's met with that sweet look on your face – that one he's unable to resist. He holds his breath for a beat or two, before letting out a deep, resonating sigh. “...Yeah, alright. Let's see it.”

Soap

It's unsurprising to find the mall jam-packed the week before Christmas, but that doesn't mean Soap isn't still annoyed by the swarm of bodies. But that's what he gets for waiting so long to go holiday shopping. Curse those last-minute deals and his inability to pass them up!

However, rather than wandering aimlessly through the mall, Soap has a game plan for today's spree. He knows exactly what stores he wants to hit, in the order he wants to hit them. And with you following closely behind to help, he's sure it'll be no sweat.

The first shop is easy enough to navigate with you trailing after him – providing your input when he inquires, and holding his items for him once he picks the one he wants. The second shop is much the same and the third even easier.

It's on the way to the fourth where, too caught up in his lists, Soap doesn't notice as you divert from the path, something else much more appealing stealing your attention away. It isn't until he's trying to decide between the last remaining pairs of snowmen or gingerbread men socks that he turns to ask your opinion, only to find you nowhere in sight.

He peers around the store for a second, not spotting you anywhere, before he suddenly feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. Your picture flashes across his screen and when he answers, the first question out of your mouth is, “Where are you?”

Where is he? Where are you? You were supposed to be following him, he not-so-subtly reminds you.

“I'm by the Cinnabon,” you tell him, then make a sound like you're taking a sip of something. “They've got hot chocolate. Giving out free cups of it,” you say, and that has Soap's ears instantly perking up.

Oh. So that's what had you scurrying off in his time of need. Honestly though, he can't say he'd have done any differently if he had caught scent of it like you did.

His movements falter for a beat, slowly lowering both pairs of socks in his hands. “Get me a cup, will ya?”

“Sorry. Can't.”

‘Can't’?! Well, why not?

You inform him that they're only giving out one per person and they seem to be running a pretty tight ship, so it's not like you could sneak another under the radar. And that makes sense, he supposes. They want everyone to have a chance to enjoy some.

“But that's why I called,” you continue. “It looks like they're almost out. So if you want one, you gotta come quick.”

The sudden deadline has Soap's eyes darting down to the themed socks in his hands. If he leaves now, they'll no doubt be snatched up by someone else. But the prospect of a cup of hot chocolate is equally as tempting, if not more so.

After debating with himself for about half a second, he asks, “…Where’d ye say ye were again?” as he places the hangers back on their racks. “By the Cinnabon. Right.” He makes his way to the front of the store, moving as quickly as possible. “Wait there,” he tells you, and once he's out the door, he's running full speed, his shopping bags swinging violently in his hands. “I'm comin’!”

Gaz

The night before Christmas seemed as good a night as any to take a walk around the neighborhood. So once you and Gaz had bundled up all nice and warm, you went for a stroll around the block, heading wherever your feet decided to take you.

Over an hour later, you're both just enjoying the evening – giving cheerful greetings to passing neighbors, turning down unexplored streets as you try to soak in this gorgeous night.

It's as you come up to another fork in the road that Gaz suddenly realizes one of his shoes is untied. He stoops to tie the laces, eyes cast down in his concentration, and as he does, you continue walking ahead, completely unaware that you're leaving him behind.

By the time he's finished and stands up again, you've vanished into the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.

Damn it. There you've gone and done it again. He knew he should have invested in one of the backpack leash things you see parents try to wrangle their wayward kids in.

You’d both left your phones at home in order to try to fully immerse yourself in this experience, so now he's forced to go old school when it comes to finding you.

He knows you couldn't have gotten very far; it's only a matter of if you went one way or the other. He picks a direction at random and after walking for a moment, he comes across a passerby whom he asks if they've seen someone matching your description. When they say they haven't, he then doubles back, repeating the process in the opposite direction.

Before long, thankfully, Gaz thinks he spots you stopped in front of a house not too far in the distance. He jogs up to where you're standing, and when he comes within earshot, he jokes, “Need to get you a bell or something, hun.”

Though the joke was lame at best, you don't react to it at all; don't even seem to hear it, honestly, which is likely given how distracted you currently are.

Your focus is entirely drawn to the house before you, your back to the street as you stare up at the brick facade. The house is stunning, absolutely covered top to bottom in all sorts of Christmas lights and decorations. It's by far the best display you've seen all year, and a breath of pure amazement leaves your lips as you take it in.

“Wow…” The word clouds the chilled air with a light puff of smoke. “Isn't it beautiful?” your awe bleeds into your voice, making it gentle, dreamy, like a sweet bell ringing in his ears.

Your tone has Gaz turning to face you, watching how you marvel at the way the lights twinkle and shine. A kaleidoscope of colors reflect off your skin, and an almost angelic glow seems to radiate from within you the longer he looks.

As he admires you, Gaz can't help how a smile slowly overtakes his face. With his eyes still trained on you, he takes your hand with his, and speaks softly, almost in a whisper, “Yeah… beautiful.”

[yuansie]

the greatest gamble of all

pairing. aventurine x gn! nameless! reader

synopsis. aventurine knows that he is unworthy of love, unworthy of you. because he, aventurine, is a tainted person and kakavasha is but a person with no future for himself. in both of his names, he is unworthy of you.

genres/aus. actually idek what type of au this would fall under saurrr idk what to say ummm friends to something more (?!), romance, pining, angst with a happy ending, smidge of fluff at the end

warnings. slight (or maybe not so slight at all?) spoilers about aventurine's background, mentions of death and murder, very sad and insecure aventurine, crying, slight displays of affection (a neck kiss?!), ooc aventurine ?! (bc im still doing the penacony quest HAHSHAJ)

wc. 1.6k

a/n. me when i only write about aventurine because aventurine is love, aventurine is life. also, i just have some serious brainrot for that man he deserves everything and more i love him sm !!!! also. aventurine this wednesday im SOOOO excited i need him NOW. will be skipping my first class so i can do his trial LMFAO and this NAWT edited !! (when will i ever edit something?? idk. whenever i am not a busy uni kid) the aventurine art was made by @/20231102thu on x (twitter) !!

AVENTURINE IS FULLY AWARE THAT HE ISN'T SOMEONE DESERVING OF, well, anything. he’s just someone that aimlessly wanders this world, not having a set destination. he doesn’t have anything worth living for.  he doesn’t have a home to return to because home means returning to a place filled with warmth and love. 

he does not remember the last time he felt his heart warm up, he’s not even sure if he’s even felt warmth. it is but a distant memory filled with sadness, such sorrow that makes his heart weep without knowing it. though, nowadays, he doesn’t feel like that. there’s just an emptiness in him, but he doesn’t mind it anymore. after the events at penacony, he’s just been… lost.

he hears a door open and slide shut, followed by the sound of footsteps. then, he senses someone standing right next to him as he gazes out the windows of the astral express. you spent a long time convincing the conductor and himeko that aventurine should be a guest, and you finally wore them out with your pleading after a good amount of hours. 

“penny for your thoughts?”

aventurine glances at you. your wounds from the battle are still healing, he notes, given by the bandages that wrap around your forearm and head. sunday will have to meet his fury on another day. “just thinking that this is a nice place.”

you chuckle, “it is, isn’t it?”

all he does is hum in response, still staring out in the vast expanse of space. he likes how the stars look and as his eyes linger on penacony, he wonders if his home looked similar to that. he wouldn't know because he never saw how it looked when he left and never will. his thoughts don’t linger on that much when he instead focuses on the way your fingers brush against his hand. he flinches and stares wide-eyed at how you easily grab onto his hand, a dirty piece of flesh undeserving of the warmth that radiates from your skin and seeps into his own.

“aventurine—”

“kakavasha.”

“hm?” you tilt your head to the side, blinking at him in confusion.

he wants to look away from you, from your eyes. but he wills himself to keep looking and somehow, he ends up gripping onto your hand tightly. you don't complain and instead squeeze back, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“my name is… kakavasha.” aventurine feels his stomach twist and turn at your silence so he continues to speak, “i just thought… that you should know it before it’s completely gone.”

“and why do you say that?”

“it’s a name meant to be forgotten in the sand.”

your response is so quick that it almost gives him whiplash. “no it isn't.”

“excuse me?” he blurts out, surprised that you even said such a thing about him.

“it isn't a name meant to be forgotten in the sand,” you say, a certain calmness in your voice that has aventurine waiting with bated breath at what else you have to say. “it's too pretty to be forgotten and, well, it's your name.” 

and then he feels his face heat up; his ears, neck and cheeks feel like they’re burning up.

“kakavasha,” you hum, smiling, “kava, for short. it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

it does have a nice ring to it, but only because you're the one saying it. aventurine merely nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. he looks away and stares outside the window, not wanting to look at you anymore because he fears this warm feeling will take over his entire being.

a nice silence blankets over the two of you, one that you break after a while.

“what’s the story behind your name right now? aventurine… why are you called that now?”

“because kakavasha had no future,” he replies, “kakavasha didn’t have a future, he didn’t deserve to live either. who i am now, aventurine, does.”

“kakavasha deserves to live too.” aventurine turns his body to look at you, blinking in surprise. “i don’t know how you got that thought in your head, but kakavasha deserves to live just as much as the person you are now.”

“but aventurine is tainted. this name has too much blood on it, too many sins on it. the person i am now doesn’t deserve to live either. kakavasha should be a name buried in the sands of time while aventurine should be burnt to a crisp for the things i’ve done.”

yes, he is tainted. his body, his everything is tainted. it is marred by an ugly color, a stain of who he was and is, never to be cleaned. aventurine lets go of your hands, worried that you might also get stained by his sins. he should drive you away now before the aching in his small heart decides to cling to you and the warmth you give him. he will tell you his story, tell you about the mark on his neck, tell you how he killed the man that bought him, tell you about how he is a tainted person. he is a tainted person unworthy of you, unworthy of that love you hold.

he may have never experienced love. after all, all of his past relationships were purely physical. no one cared about going deeper beyond his facade, they all just wanted a fun night. so while he has never experienced it, he is no fool. he can recognize that the emotion in your pretty eyes when you look at him is love. you love aventurine, the him who has betrayed and used you and your companions in one way or another on penacony. he doesn’t understand why and maybe he never will because the mere fact that you feel something towards him is so bizarre.

so he should ruin whatever it is that you love about him and tell you the truth, taint your rose-colored view on him. aventurine needs to do it now before his heart tells him not to. he knows his heart is already lovesick, so needy of that bit of love it has received from you. his heart wants to hold on tightly to you and drown in you, drown in those feelings of yours. his tiny heart wants to love you too, it wants to love you just as much as you love him. he wants your everything to consume his entire being.

but after he tells you the truth, you will leave and you will be the first and last person he’s loved. you will be the first and last person to somehow climb over the tall walls he’s built around himself and crack open the facade he’s made.

but what if… what if you stay after everything? what will happen then?

it is that small hope that he ends up clinging to.

if he is blessed gaiathra, if he is lucky, then what if… what if this is his greatest gamble of all? a gamble of love: will he lose you or will you stay?

aventurine has made up his mind despite the rational part in him telling him to not even do it, yet he does. the words flow out of his mouth easily, though his heart weighs heavy in his chest. he expects to you leave, he really does because who would want someone as ugly as him? but the tears that leaves your eyes and roll down your cheeks catches him completely off guard.

“why are you crying?” he asks, his hands reaching out to hold your arms.

your lips quiver and a hand grabs onto one of his while the other reaches out, fingers stopping before they touch his neck. aventurine leans in without thinking and a shiver goes up his spine when your fingertips gently graze the marks on his neck. you rub over the marks, “you didn’t deserve any of that, kakavasha.”

“if i could, i would take this from you and any pain you’ve felt and will feel. i would take away all of the unpleasant memories that plague your mind. for you, i would do anything.” 

his knees buckle at your words and you both tumble down to the ground; he ends up being on top of you. your eyes widen when aventurine’s own tears begin to rain down, some falling onto your cheek.

“why would you say something so cruel to me?” he mutters. “don’t give me false hope. you should leave now before you do it in the future.”

“why should i leave the man that i love?” you purse your lips, your eyebrows furrowing.

aventurine shoves his head into the crook of your neck. “i am undeserving of you. i’m lesser than everyone in all of these galaxies.”

“you are not lesser than everyone,” you grumble, raking your hand through his blond hair. “everyone is the same because at the end of the day, we all want to love and to be loved.”

“i’m afraid i won’t be able to leave you now.” he hears you laugh softly, saying how his eyelashes are tickling you. he decides to get impossibly closer to you and bat his eyelashes more, smiling at the sound of your laughter growing in volume. “you’re stuck with me, so don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

aventurine’s breath gets stuck in his throat. he feels your lips brush against his neck. “i think the one who should be saying that is me… say, promise me you won’t leave?”

“shouldn’t i be saying that?”

“kava, promise me.”

“i promise. will you promise the same thing too?”

“yes, i promise that i won’t leave you.”

kakavasha, a name forgotten in the sand, was dug up and remembered, held in the hands of someone that treats like the most precious thing. kakavasha, who had forgotten how it felt to love and be loved, remembered the feeling because of a single person.

and kakavasha, blessed by gaiathra, won his greatest gamble of all time. he won you and your love, something he will now protect and hold onto tightly.

[inkskinned]

one of the things that i think we should pay attention to, socially, about the disney v. desantis thing is that it is really highlighting the importance of remembering nuance.

in a purely neutral sense, if you engage in something problematic, that does not mean you are necessarily agreeing with what makes it problematic. and i am worried that we have become... so afraid of any form of nuance.

disney isn't my friend, they're a corporate monopoly that bastardized copyright laws for their own benefit, ruin the environment, and abuse their workers (... and many other things). this isn't a hypothetical for me - i grew up in florida. i also worked for the actual Walt Disney World; like, in the parks. i am keenly aware of the ways they hurt people, because they hurt me. i fully believe that part of the reason florida is so conservative is because it's been an "open secret" for years now that disney lobbies the government to keep minimum wage down, and i know they worked hard to keep the parks unmasked and open during the worst parts of Covid. they purposefully keep their employees in poverty. they are in part responsible for the way the floridian government works.

desantis is still, by a margin that is frankly daunting, way worse. the alternative here isn't just "republicans win", it's actual fascism.

in a case like this, where the alternative is to allow actual fascism into united states legislation - where, if desantis wins, there are huge and legal ramifications - it's tempting to minimize the harm disney is also doing, because... well, it's not fascism. but disney isn't the good guy, either, which means republicans are having a field day asking activists oh, so you think their treatment of their employees is okay?

we have been trained there is a right answer. you're right! you're in the good group, and you're winning at having an opinion.

except i have the Internet Prophecy that in 2-3 months, even left-wing people will be ripping apart activists for having "taken disney's side". aren't i an anti-capitalist? aren't i pro-union? aren't i one of the good ones? removed from context and nuance (that in this particular situation i am forced to side with disney, until an other option reveals itself), my act of being like "i hope they have goofy rip his throat out onstage, shaking his lifeless body like a dog toy" - how quickly does that seem like i actually do support disney?

and what about you! at home, reading this. are you experiencing the Thought Crime of... actually liking some of the things disney has made? your memories of days at the parks, or of good movies, or of your favorite show growing up. maybe you are also evil, if you ever enjoyed anything, ever, at all.

to some degree, the binary idealization/vilification of individual motive and meaning already exists in the desantis case. i have seen people saying not to go to the disney pride events because they're cash grabs (they are). i've seen people saying you have to go because they're a way to protest. there isn't a lot of internet understanding of nuance. instead it's just "good show of support" or "evil bootlicking."

this binary understanding is how you can become radicalized. when we fear nuance and disorder, we're allowing ourselves the safety of assuming that the world must exist in binary - good or bad, problematic or "not" problematic. and unfortunately, bigots want you to see the world in this binary ideal. they want you to get mad at me because "disney is taking a risk for our community but you won't sing their praises" and they want me to get mad at you for not respecting the legit personal trauma that disney forced me through.

in a grander scheme outside of disney: what happens is a horrific splintering within activist groups. we bicker with each other about minimal-harm minimal-impact ideologies, like which depiction of bisexuality is the most-true. we gratuitously analyze the personal lives of activists for any sign they might be "problematic". we get spooked because someone was in a dog collar at pride. we wring our hands about setting an empty shopping mall on fire. we tell each other what words we may identify ourselves by. we get fuckin steven universe disk horse when in reality it is a waste of our collective time.

the bigots want you to spend all your time focusing on how pristine and pretty you and your interests are. they want us at each other's throats instead of hand in hand. they want to say see? nothing is ever fucking good enough for these people.

and they want their followers to think in binary as well - a binary that's much easier to follow. see, in our spaces, we attack each other over "proper" behavior. but in bigoted groups? they attack outwards. they have someone they hate, and it is us. they hate you, specifically, and you are why they have problems - not the other people in their group. and that's a part of how they fucking keep winning.

some of the things that are beloved to you have a backbone in something terrible. the music industry is a wasteland. the publishing industry is a bastion of white supremacy. video games run off of unpaid labor and abuse.

the point of activism was always to bring to light that abuse and try to stop it from happening, not to condemn those who engage in the content that comes from those industries. "there is no ethical consumption under late capitalism" also applies to media. your childhood (and maybe current!) love of the little mermaid isn't something you should now flinch from, worried you'll be a "disney adult". wanting the music industry to change for the better does not require that you reject all popular music until that change occurs. you can acknowledge the harm something might cause - and celebrate the love that it has brought into your life.

we must detach an acknowledgment of nuance from a sense of shame and disgust. we must. punishing individual people for their harmless passions is not doing good work. encouraging more thoughtful, empathetic consumption does not mean people should feel ashamed of their basic human capacities and desires. it should never have even been about the individual when the corporation is so obviously the actual evil. this sense that we must live in shame and dread of our personal nuances - it just makes people bitter and hopeless. do you have any idea how scared i am to post this? to just acknowledge the idea of nuance? that i might like something nuanced, and engage in it joyfully? and, at the same time, that i'm brutally aware of the harm that they're doing?

"so what do i do?" ... well, often there isn't a right answer. i mean in this case, i hope mickey chops off ron's head and then does a little giggle. but truth be told, often our opinions on nuanced subjects will differ. you might be able to engage in things that i can't because the nuance doesn't sit right with me. i might think taylor swift is a great performer and a lot of fun, and you might be like "raquel, the jet fuel emissions". we are both correct; neither of us have any actual sway in this. and i think it's important to remember that - the actual scope of individual responsibility. like, i also love going to the parks. Thunder Mountain is so fun. you (just a person) are not responsible for the harm that Disney (the billion dollar corporation) caused me. i don't know. i think it's possible to both enjoy your memories and interrogate the current state of their employment policies.

there is no right way to interrogate or engage with nuance - i just hope you embrace it readily.

[dragonsfictavern]

Reminiscent Nightmares

Astarion Ancunin x Durge!Reader

a/n: I am consumed with soft wordless sex. Total physical communication showcasing a couples intimate knowledge of each other. I love I love I love.

summary: After a nightmare of past pains you’ve inflicted, Astarion is right there to comfort you. While you feel as though you can’t talk about it, Astarion will be there for you in other ways until you can. He will always be there for you.

warning: MDNI +18 make outs, groping, soft p in v sex, clitoral stimulation. Nice and simple.

word count: 2K

Your brows furrow, shaking your head, even as you lay in a deep sleep. Squirming around in your bed a whimper escapes you as visions— no memories, whirl through your mind in a torturous loop. Pools of blood come in waves, crashing against the walls and flooding the vision of your dream. Endless faces pass the view of your eye, being presented with them all before they fall off to the side and another takes its place.

Kill after kill you’re reminded of every single one. Your mind not allowing you to forget about a second of the pain you inflicted on others. An unending stream of the damage you caused and the torture you brought upon others. All of it now coming back to you.

By the time you’ve gone through them all, you’re whimpering, tears streaming down your cheeks even though you remain asleep. Just when you think it’s over, when all is done, when you’ll finally be able to gain some release… one more head slowly floats through the river of blood.

The head slowly comes to a stop and the face that greets you is none other than Astarion’s.

You scream and a second later Astarion is shaking you awake. Your eyes shoot open and scatter around as you try and take in your surroundings, your breath is heavy with panic, and you can’t stop squirming as you feel your skin crawl. The idea of Astarion being gone, and worse by your hand, haunts your every waking thought.

When Astarion gently cups your jaw, bringing your gaze to his, you cry out at the sight of him, more tears streaming down your cheek. Astarion shakes his head, quietly shushing you in hopes to calm you down. Your tears seem unable to stop as your eyes move over his every beautiful feature. Your hands reach up, taking his face in your hold. Thumbs rubbing over smooth cheeks. You feel him. He is here. He is unharmed.

Your eyes catch onto your hands and you know that he is safe. He is safe in your embrace. You aren’t like that anymore. You don’t do those things anymore. Neither of you do. Ever since everything ended and you’ve both settled into your new lives in Baldur’s Gate. You would never hurt him, not then nor now. While there were some close calls you have full control. You’re positive.

Nothing will ever harm him. Not you or anyone. You two will spend your days protecting each other from whatever threat may come your way. You’re a team. You continue rotating through those thoughts, filling your mind with them as you inhale and exhale deeply, meeting Astarion’s worried gaze once more. His free arm moves around your waist and he brings you impossibly closer. The feeling of his body against yours furthers your comfort.

With time you eventually calm down, your breath slowing down and the panic dissipating. When fully relaxed against his body, Astarion’s eyes furrow in a silent question. You blink back, not wanting to even think about it right now. Not wanting to think about anything. So you lightly shake your head at him and his features drop just as quickly as his question, understanding you immediately.

Instead he uses his hold in your jaw to gently guide your lips to his, continuing to provide you with closeness and comfort. You inhale sharply through your nose as your lips collide. A small moan escapes you as you lean into his touch, lips simply connecting for a moment. But you both easily fall into a gentle rhythm as your lips caress each other lovingly.

Astarion’s hand slides into your hair and he uses it to pull you in closer, groaning as his mouth devours yours. Both of you quickly become swept up in the easy dance of your mouth’s movements. You whimper, everything Astarion being the only thing you can focus on. The only thing you can think about.

When he slowly brings you back down on the bed, hand on the back of your head for extra cushion, you moan again, flicking your tongue along the seam of his lips. Astarion rolls on top of you, legs cradling your hips as he opens his mouth to you. You both grin as you take turns teasing each other with your tongues. His actions meant to distract and comfort and you weren’t ashamed to say they were working.

Astarion slowly works to undress you both, taking his time, savoring the taste of your tongue on his. Only separating when you have to and then his lips are crashing back down on yours. You moan, softly pulling him down once he’s finished, your body shuddering to feel his cold skin brush along the heat of yours. The contrast sending sparks up your spine.

Your body arches into his as you feel his hand slowly making its way down your form. The sensation of his mouth and hands continuing to drive all worrying thoughts out of your head. Astarion takes his time with you, wanting to feel every groove and curve that makes up your body. His hand slips between you both once he reaches your hips.

A hiss escapes him and you feel his breath ghost across your face. Your brows furrow and you whimper, hips jolting up, knowing his next movements precisely. A moment later you feel the crown of his cock parting your folds. Your eyes snap open only to meet Astarion already looking down at you. A soft expression on his face as he gages your reactions, always making sure you’re ok. You do the same, reaching a hand to touch his cheek. You bring his forehead to rest against yours, taking a moment to connect with him emotionally.

You gasp as he teases the hole of your sex and your heart skips a beat at the slight quirk of his mouth. Which only grows wider once he hears the way your pulse instinctively reacts to him. Your moans rip through the silence as Astarion pushes inside of you with ease. Your eyelids drop as you let out a whine, the feeling of him entering you has your body filling with warmth.

Astarion easily moves straight into a languid pace, his length gliding through your wet heat as he works you open, stuffing you full of him. Your hands slide into his hair, foreheads remaining connected as he thrusts inside you. Both of you maintaining eye contact. The intensity of emotion in his gaze takes your breath away. He wants to be here for you. To look after you. And though you may not be ready to talk, he is right here to comfort you.

Your nose nuzzles against his in a silence appreciation, your chest blooming with even more love and devotion for this man. Astarion grunts, a low rumble in his chest at your sign of affection, before picking up his pace only slightly. You sigh at the feeling of his cock massaging your walls, head falling back slightly as hips roll into yours. Soon your body falls into rhythm with his, pushing back against every pump into your core.

A soft cry leaves you as he hits your G-spot. Arms tightening around him, you’re desperate to feel him close. Astarion’s hands squeeze at your waist while his cock leisurely pumps its way inside you. He nips at your jaw gently, wanting your attention back on him. Your breath stutters as your hips meet once again in a quiet smack. Tilting your head up you meet his gaze and his lips are immediately connecting with yours, causing you to groan.

Heat swirls at the bottom of your belly as you feel your orgasm begin to grow. Your hands softly play with Astarion’s curls as you kiss. Your lips moving in tandem with the steady rhythm of his pulsing length. The feeling sends your heart racing and your skin tingling. An easy passion falls over you both like a thick cloud, blocking away the rest of the world and all that remains of you and Astarion.

You whimper against his lips, mind growing hazy as you’re lulled by his soft lips and the occasional nip of his fangs. Your nerves are on fire, your entire body prickling over as you savor each time he fills you. With the building pressure within you, you know you’re getting closer and closer to your climax. Astarion groans, feeling the way your muscles tense underneath him, feeling how your body radiates heat those moves through him and drives him with a need he’s only ever truly felt with you.

His hands caress your thighs, soothing out the slight twitching occurring as you find yourself just on the edge. Then a hand is moving to the apex of your thighs, his diligent fingers quickly finding your clit. Your jaw drops slightly and he uses this to his advantage, tongue slipping into your mouth to brush along yours. Your body jolts into his touch and you melt against the slow circles applied to your bundle of nerves.

It only takes a few more soothing strokes before your walls are fluttering around his cock and you’re falling off the edge, your release coating his cock. You moan loudly and Astarion swallows it all down, mouth latching down on your tongue and sucking lightly. Your body shudders in response, making the slight shaking of your body all the more worse as your orgasm moves through you in gripping shockwaves.

You clench down on Astarion, not even aware of your actions as your release consumes you. Astarion grunts, his stomach clenching and with a few stuttering thrusts, he sinks down inside you before spilling himself. Your eyes roll back into your head and you gently grind against him, milking him for every last drop.

Both of you rock into each other slowly, helping each other ride out your highs. Your kisses grow lazy, mouths smacking together, unable to stay away for longer than a few moments. Your eyes flutter as you desperately try and stay awake. Astarion watches you, his own eyes half-lidded, a storm of powerful emotions brewing in the depths of his red gaze. Yet you don’t back away from it, instead lulled into its embrace.

Astarion rolls you both onto your sides once you’ve both calmed down. He keeps you connected as he draws you tight against his chest. You breathe deeply, your body relaxed, contentment now coursing through you as you lay in Astarion’s arms. Both of you protected. Both of you safe. You slowly begin to fall asleep, grateful for your love and the way he flawlessly has come to understand you.

A moment later you feel a hand rest on the back of your head and your body jolts a bit, the touch waking you up more. Astarion shushes you gently, leaning in to press calming kisses across your brow. You hum and snuggle back in closer to him, accepting every kind of comfort he’s been giving you since your dream rousted you two up. It was only when he started to kiss your forehead did you realize you still remain partially tense. But with his lips on your skin your body completely melts into his and you fall into a dreamless sleep without issue.

Astarion stays by your side, not wanting to get up or move away from you. Watching over you as you rest and hoping the night passes by without anything else waking you. He knows you will talk to him once the morning comes. Share your concerns and let him be there for you in that way as well. He will always be there for you so long as you wish him and doesn’t mind having to prove so. Looking down at you and thinking this all through, he can’t help but lean in and nuzzle into your hair. He closes his eyes, for even if he won’t really sleep, he’ll bask in the act if it means lying with you.

[careyakane]

I bare my teeth at change.

I wait until its back is turned and then I set fire to its plans. It only laughs at me. Laughs as I set fire to my own treasures. If only I knew the beauty that lies in change. The same of something will grow sterile. It will loose character and drain joy. It’s in change where new love is found. New appreciation even for the same people we have held our whole lives. Change is the most beautiful thing we have if we only we learn to accept it. But yet still I panic. I fear. I cry. I break at the news of Albany st selling. At the change in a loved one’s voice. At the passing of a cat. At the truth of my own actions. I seem to grow so small. I did not appreciate what was Infront of me and now I mourn its absence. Permanence. God it’s a scary thing. Things set into motion. I always feel if only I catch them early enough. Maybe I could have a seat at the table with these decision makers. If only they saw how my mind worked. They would lift me into the realm beyond and I would stop the clock. Pull everything back into its right place. “See don’t you see! Look how beautiful it all is again” I would shout. They would only shake their heads and sigh. Another flawed human who can’t understand the truth of this world. Life is ever shifting. Let yourself go into this. Love in this. Die in this. It is the only option. You had four years in that house. Fires in the back yard. You held her more nights than you know. You laughed and cried. You shook uncontrollably as she left. You greeted her on that front porch in fall after she said she wouldn’t come. You danced under rain and snow. You were a kid there. And those memories will never be taken from you. Not fully at least. But it is time to let that place exist for someone else. You were told she couldn’t even stay there because it felt to much like you. I think part of my fear is in that fact. This feels like life driving her even further from me. How am I supposed to meet her there this summer. Sit between those walls. Look into her eyes and let the feelings flood back. That was supposed to happen. Now one of our last lifelines is being cut.

[ddejavvu]

I saw a video on tiktok the other day of a man on his wedding day getting down to the level of his new stepdaughter and reading out vows to her about how he'll always love and care for her and I bawled my eyes out. Now all I can think about is Hotch and single!mom reader on their wedding day getting down and reading vows to each others children. I dont know if you write single! Parent reader, but if you do could you write something with this premise? Thank you lovely if you can

Your daughter is mildly confused when Aaron beckons her over during the ceremony, but at four years old, she's mostly obedient to her parents. Well- to Aaron. To you, she protests and screams and giggles maniacally, but you suppose you're the one that gave it to her, so you can't complain without sounding like a hypocrite.

You set a hand on Jack's shoulder, ushering the older boy into your own grip.

"You look so handsome," You gush, eyes teeming with tears that threaten to ruin your mascara, "Jack, I- I won't embarrass you by calling you a mushy nickname like CrackerJack, or JackAttack, or Jackers-"

"You're using them all right now-!" The teenager protests, but he doesn't shrug your hand off of his shoulder; his protests are for show.

"Sorry! Sorry," You sniffle, and you let the fifteen year old wipe a tear away from your eye before it ruins your makeup.

"Jack," You repeat, steeling yourself, "I- I just want you to know that I love you. It's not because I love your dad, it's not because we live together, it's not because you woke me up with breakfast in bed on my birthday. It's- it's because of you, sweetheart. I know you're getting older, and- and you might be going away to college soon," You poorly withhold a sob, thinking of an empty bed in the room down the hall, "-but I just- I need you to know that it's you that I love, just the same as I love June. Your mom was an amazing woman, and she made an amazing son, and I'm so honored that you've given me permission to be your stepmom. I love you- Jackers."

Perhaps its awkward for the teen to face such strong emotion head-on, but you won't tattle to his schoolfriends about the tears that well up in his eyes, or the red tint to his nose as he bites them back.

"Love you too," He supplies weakly, surging forwards to wrap his arms around your waist- but it's all you need. One of your photographers makes to readjust your veil where it's been momentarily crumpled beneath his arm, but damn the veil, your stepson is more important.

"They're gushy," Aaron accuses, holding little June in his arms and pointing at you, "Are we gonna be gushy, Junie B Jones?"

Her eyes are mystified as she stares at her mama and her brother, but she shakes her head dutifully at Aaron.

"Oh, go, you're sappier than I am," You tease Aaron, and it rouses a light chuckle from your guests.

"Loony-Junie," Aaron starts, and the girl in his grasp giggles at the name. Encouraged by her delight, he employs her favorite moniker; her most desired snack, "My little pickle. Thank you, for letting me marry your mama. And for giving her the ring, even if it fell in the eggs instead of the fully-baked cake."

The little girl roars with a squeal of laughter at the memory, and- now you know why the Lysol wipes were on the counter the night of Aaron's proposal.

"You were a super big helper to me and your brother," He continues, holding her close, "And I'm so happy I get to be your stepdad now. I know you're a big girl, and you can do pretty much everything by yourself now," He lets her pipe up, falling silent as her tiny voice rings out.

"-I can even put my own shoes on the right feet!"

Not every audience member manages to stifle their giggle, but the little girl doesn't look abashed for it. Aaron nods with a fond grin on his face, and Jack leans into your side where you've pinned him in a hug.

"She can not. I had to switch her mary janes before the ceremony."

"Stop," You pinch him in the side, snorting with laughter and concealing it in the warmth of his shoulder, "Do not make me turn into an evil stepmother, Jack. Let her have this." He concedes- oh, such a good brother.

"I know!" Aaron exclaims, one of his large palms spread wide across her belly as he holds her in his arms, "I'm super proud of you, baby. But. If you ever need help with your shoes, or with your hair, or with your friends, or with your teachers, or with your brother," He shoots a suspicious glance at Jack who sticks his tongue out at his father, "Or with anything at all, pickle, you come tell me. Okay? Even if it's a problem that I'm part of."

"Okay," She agrees easily, unaware of the dozens of painfully-swollen hearts watching the display, "Thanks, dada."

"Oh, pickle," He bites back a shallow, raw twinge to his voice as he hugs her and you hiss, 'Gushy.'

"I love you too," He promises June, "Forever, and always, and even longer after that."

"Infinity?" Her eyes shine; it's a concept her pre-k class came upon in a library comic book and she's fascinated with it.

"For infinity." Aaron confirms, and her teeth show in a grin as brilliantly white and gleaming as the beads sewn into your outfit.

Her response is two tiny, chubby arms slung around his neck, and a delicate face buried in his shoulder. Despite your no-photography request, you're fairly certain a camera shutter goes off that doesn't belong to the photographer you hired.

Garcia.

Oh, well.

"Alright you saps," You manage to blubber, your voice barely clear of the sobs creeping up your throat, "Let's get married before I cry and ruin my makeup. I paid so much for the stylist."

Jovial laughter rings through the tent you've set up, and Aaron sets June down, though she follows at his heels the same way Jack does at yours. They stand together, brother and sister, just as you do with Hotch, soon-to-be husband and wife.

"Don't cry." You command, "Or I'll cry."

"Don't cry," He repeats with a sheepish grin and a thick voice, blinking rapidly, as your babies join hands, "Or I'll cry."

"I'm crying," A faint voice from the audience rings out, but you can't manage to find any annoyance towards Garcia's repeated disruptions.

Aaron laughs, squeezing his eyes shut and letting a tear slip despite his best efforts. He presses his forehead to yours, and you do the same, feeling his breath fan over your face as he reels himself in.

"Come on, Hotchner," You urge, your voice wobbly, as your heart races in anticipation, the officiant stepping towards you, "Get it together, big guy. I'm not leaving this tent without your last name."

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ ⭒˚FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚

—part two

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fem! archangel raphael! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: friends to enemies, so it's angsty

notes: hehehehe idk yeah, this is now a series of sort 🤯 also, eat well simps /affectionate. I'll be basing off the seven virtues' appearance off from esbellesantos' Fanart but I wouldn't like fully follow their headcanon personality and make a different personality for them.

Part One | Part Three | THE SEVEN VIRTUES

So many years have passed after Lucifer's trial, during those years [y/n]'s gigantic and majestic wings finally grew. Three pairs of majestic wings now prodding on her back, a golden halo on top of her head. The [y/n] that was just a background character has now risen up the ranks, God seeing her potential and granted her the title of archangel, now one of the seven virtues of heaven.

[y/n] who was once upbeat and cheerful has now grown cold and mature as she took the responsibility god has placed upon her shoulders. Heart closed to other immortal beings but opened to the mortal ones.

She rules a specific area of the skies, as the seven virtues are tasked to watch their own territory and to make sure to maintain peace and order with the heavenly beings.

She sat on the chair just by her balcony, a small table in front of her. A cup of steaming coffee on the table as she read a newspaper containing some daily heavenly news. A gold wedding ring on her ring finger. She stared at the bright, white, and blue scenery outside her home. Clouds all over the place, other lower ranked angels flying around.

She lives in a huge mansion by herself despite being married.

“Darling I am here~!” a male spoke as the sound of the door to the living room was slammed open. Speaking of her husband, familiar footsteps tapping on the pristine white and gold marbled tiles as the person arrived to the balcony of the living room.

“Azrael, to what do I owe you the pleasure?” [y/n] asked, gently placing back down her coffee cup on to the table. Tilting her head to look at her husband. Tall, slender, mischievous.

Don't get her wrong, she and Azrael don't like each other romantically but they are more on platonic. They only got married... Well... Because of boredom and they did promised each other to marry each other if they remained single even when they've reached a certain age. They promised to divorce each other if they find the one that is right for them. Despite their odd friendship, the two trust each other a lot. Azrael was one being there for her when Lucifer fell from grace.

“I just have some news to share with you, I think this will catch your interest dear.” Azrael winked at her, leaning against his black staff. Eyes half lidded as he awaited for her reaction.

[y/n]'s eyes stopped moving along the words of the paper she was reading, tilting her head to look at the taller angel with curiosity, eyebrow raised. “Really now? Tell me dearie.” she says with a smirk, lifting her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips.

“Lucifer apparently wants to have a meeting with heaven. He wanted to propose another idea of his.” Azrael says with a smirk, his smirk widening as he watched [y/n] choked on her drink.

She clears her throat, getting the caffeine out of her esophagus. The revelation brought back so many memories that it caught her off guard.

“I'm sorry, what did you say?” she asked again, eyes blinking. Having second thoughts whether she heard him wrong.

Azrael crosses his arms and smirks, “You heard me, he's coming up here to tell us about his plans for the wayward souls down there.”

“Really now?” [y/n] asked with a scoff, wiping her lips with a clean white cloth. She lost her hope in humanity, she believes that the people who didn't properly use the free will gifted to them by Lucifer, shouldn't be given another chance as they wasted that opportunity to live a good life.

“I doubt that the others would agree to whatever plan he has to show.” [y/n] says, sipping her coffee once more.

Azrael laughs, wiping a tear off his eye. “My, you used to agree with his views. To see you disregard his plans before even hearing is just too cruel, [y/n]” he says with a mischievous smile on his face, a sing-song tone in his voice.

“They got gifted free will and look what they have done with it. I believe those souls are better off staying down there and looking back at the times they could've done better.” [y/n] says coldly.

Azrael shrugs, the smirk never leaving his face.

“Well, I don't really care about mortal life that much considering I am the angel of death. My duty is to guide them to the afterlife.” he says, shrugging. Walking to the railings of the balcony and leans his back against it.

“Well, that's the only reason I came here. I have duties to attend to and the meeting will be happening in a few days. I'm sure it would be quite a lovely reunion with all eight of us.” Azrael says with a smirk, excited how the meeting will go with all seven virtues plus Lucifer in the same room. He can tell it would be tense and chaotic.

“Good luck in your work.” [y/n] says with a lazy shrug making the taller angel laugh.

“Adios~” he says before disappearing in a puff of sparkly black smoke.

Turning back to the world outside her home, dull [e/c] eyes looking over the blue horizon. She sighs, closing her eyes as she sighs.

“A meeting huh, it's been awhile since I've last seen him.” she mutters, eyes opening. Cold and calculative. “This should be interesting.”

Timeskip to a few days later...

Lucifer paced back and forth inside his room, a guest room heaven prepared for him. The meeting would happen in two hours and he is beyond nervous. It took so much time to convince them to listen to him but they finally agreed because he persisted.

He expected that it will be only Sera to judge his plans, the anxiety and fear he felt when Sera told him that the seven virtues themselves would grant him an audience to his plans for hell.

He doesn't know much about the seven virtues as it was only implemented a few years after his fall but he knew that it consists of powerful angels that kept the order and peace of heaven. He can list a few angels that are probably one of the seven virtues.

But despite all this, his heart has been aching. He's in heaven, he's standing on the same ground as [y/n]. He misses her, so goddamn much.

Did she miss him too? Probably not.

Remembering how bad their goodbye was, there wasn't any to begin with.

Lucifer sighs, patting up his dark pink suit to ease up the creases. Despite the years that have already gone by, [y/n] never left his heart. He never forgets, every detail of his world no matter how miniscule it is... He can't help but think, [y/n] would've loved this, this is her favorite color, her favorite food, and etc.

He loves Lilith but he also loves [y/n] (more even!) and he knows it's too late to admit that and he's afraid to admit to himself that... He may have made the wrong choice of ignoring her advances.

His gloved hands moved to his collar, adjusting it. “Don't think about her Lucifer, you have a meeting to do and this is for the sake of your people and family.” he says to himself. Taking deep breaths to calm his fast beating heart.

He is ready to propose his plan on making a hotel to redeem sinners.

The seven virtues of heaven sat in a u-shaped table, all seven virtues wearing a mask that hides their faces. In front of them stood a very nervous Lucifer.

Not a single one of them aside from Lucifer talked, they listened to him talk about his plans for hell.

It is a good plan but without proof, it is useless.

“With the hotel, I am sure sinners would find a way to redeem themselves and join you guys here in heaven.” Lucifer says, a nervous smile on his face as he ends his presentation. Standing in front of the seven virtues is a real nerve wrecking. He can sense the power emitting from each and every one of them. One wrong move and he's done for.

“The idea is cute and all but without evidence, this... This is completely useless.” Gabriel says, a bored tone in her voice as she lazily held the folder filled with the details of Lucifer's plan and letting it fall into the table with a loud thud.

Lucifer flinches from her remark and the sound of his hopes and dreams of his people hitting with a loud thud on the table from Gabriel's actions.

“I agree.” Michael says, removing his mask. A mischievous smile on his face. “Lucifer, you don't know what these mortal souls are capable of. How can you be so sure the hotel would work if you yourself aren't sure they wanted to redeem themselves in the first place?” Michael asked, voice filled with authority, eyebrows raised as he asked the question, looking down on his twin brother, Lucifer.

Lucifer flinches, starting to get nervous.

“Well... We wouldn't know if we'd tr—” he says but getting cut off.

“You've never seen the horrors and atrocities these mortal souls commit with their free will. War, corruption, death, murder, drugs... Anything you can name it. What makes you think these people would want to make themselves better?” Jophiel says, his voice shaking. A laugh escaping his lips as he remembers the horrors he's seen on earth, a mocking laughter.

“They're truly terrible, these souls don't have a place here in heaven.” Michael sneered.

Azrael just smirked as he watched the scene unfold, [y/n] keeping quiet beside him. His hand intertwined with hers to comfort her.

“But they're souls, human souls just the same with the one's up here in heaven.” Lucifer defended, clenching his fists.

“They are not the same, the souls here in heaven have earned it.” Camuel says with a smile, finally removing his own mask.

“Ugh, the work I have to do carrying each soul to their destination is quite tiring. Annoying even. Especially when a soul curses at me for bringing them to hell when they only have themselves to blame.” Azrael says with a groan, smirking as he removes his mask. Looking at Lucifer challengingly.

Lucifer's eyes widened at the cruelty of their words, six virtues now staring at him face-to-face, aside from one virtue who kept quiet.

“Well, each one of us already said our opinion aside from Raphael here... Or should I say, [y/n]? Do you have something to say?” Azrael says, a teasing smile on his face. [Y/n] glaring at Azrael as she slightly squeezed his hand.

Lucifer's eyes widened, heart beating faster than ever before when he heard the name. Even more so when the last virtue removed her mask.

Cold, bored, calculative, and dull.

No longer the bright sparkling [e/c] eyes Lucifer loved before.

“Is this even necessary? All of you had already said what needed to be said.” [y/n] says, removing her hand from Azrael's as she leans her elbows on the table. Putting her chin on her knuckle. A lazy and bored look on her face. A shiny gold band on her ring finger, a wedding ring.

She's married? He asked himself but that question isn't too important as he is focused on something else. How cold she is. That something Lucifer isn't quite used to.

The others looked at [y/n] expectantly making the woman sigh, “Very well then, I would have to agree with the others.” she says coldly.

This isn't his [y/n]. Where was the [y/n] who used to be so kind, bright, cheerful, and had hopes for humanity? What happened to her?

Lucifer stood in fear, not knowing how to act now that [y/n] is revealed to be one of his audience.

“Humans. They are selfish and vile creatures. Destroying the planet our creator had given them, killing and hurting their own kind. Poverty, hunger, corruption, death. If you haven't given them the apple, they would be living in peace and harmony and with no worry in eden but you took that away from them and now they're doomed to suffer.” [y/n] coldly explained. “You cannot see it personally and that is your burden to carry, your punishment.”

Lucifer can't speak, mind blanking as a loud ringing was heard on his ears. Hands shaking, he couldn't breathe.

Where was the one person who believed in him? Did he fucked up so much to even lose her too?

“You're really mad huh?” Azrael says, placing a hand over his cheek. A similar gold band on his ring finger. Lucifer's eyes widened.

Azrael is married to her. Lucifer thought. Defeated.

“Well, this court finds no evidence that this hotel would be effective. I suggest you leave now or you'll face the consequences.” Michael says, voice is booming and filled with authority. The other virtues glaring at him. Halo's shining down on Lucifer as if to mock him, to show him that they are in power.

Why do you still look so disappointed in me? More so even?

Lucifer asked, looking at [y/n] who avoided his gaze.

Azrael showing off his wedding ring to him with a smirk on his face, making Lucifer's eye twitch.

“This meeting is over.” Michael says, glaring down on Lucifer. “Leave or else you'll suffer the consequences.” Michael says, angelic weapons now aimed warningly at him.

Fear coursing through his veins, Lucifer left. Despite wanting to stay and talk to her, he couldn't. Poofing away in a cloud of sparkly red smoke.

“You okay?” Azrael asked beside her as they flew back to their respective territories. Passing by many clouds, the skies now have a dark shade of blue as the sun has set a few hours ago.

“Nope, but I will eventually.” she says with a sigh making the dark haired male smile.

“You know, I didn't expect him to be so small. You used to be the same height but now you're taller than him.” Azrael mutters with a small laugh.

“They don't have the sun there, Azrael. They don't have the necessary vitamins to grow taller.” [y/n] says with a small laugh. The joke making the male angel laugh hysterically.

“HAHAHAHA! Since when did you make such jokes [n/n]? A really dark one too!” he says before winking at her, “No pun intended.”

The unintended pun making the girl chuckle. Azrael smiled, happy he got to make her smile after that stressful meeting.

I based off the seven virtues here aside from Raphael and Azrael image.

Also, I based this off from the "more than anything" song that Lucifer tried to look for ways to help his people and also based off from that one panel of an episode (I forgot which one) where he was wearing the same outfit Charlie is wearing, the pink suit? Yeah, I imagined he did the hotel concept and told Charlie about it.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z

[jmdbjk]

This is our show.

SPOILERS...

I am in a feverish covid haze... my first time... its yucky. But I think I'm on the backside of it now.

I needed to throw out my two cents on today's Are You Sure? Episode 4 before I go take another nap (seventh since yesterday)

First: Naked. Jimin strutted out to the pool, got in and was promptly warned by JK to cool it, the pool has a window where everyone can see and they both glance at the staff who are off camera... I'm not making this up.

NAKED. NAKED. NAKED.

Staff who bought those swim trunks probably short-circuited when they thought we'd be seeing wayyyyyy more of Jimin-ssi than intended.

MORE NAKED...

My mild ataxophobia was triggered when I saw the entrance of the cafe that's been famous since last Chuseok. I know it has its "charms" and the space probably serves several purposes as I see a sewing machine back there, its possible the owner lives there too. But the clutter made my brain glitch:

More naked...also for you pit hair enthusiasts:

A minor dramatic subplot for this episode: RIP Drone Camera:

Jungkook recording more of the memories that will carry them through this time of military service:

And Jimin right there with him while he does it...

And this laughing, giggling... so carefree... it will put smiles on their faces whenever they look at these pics and videos on their phones.

We unlocked a new subunit name:

Other thoughts: this episode returned to a more laid-back vibe. Laid back for them. Not for us. The naked has all of us ogling, pausing, rewinding, comparing what mother nature gave them, nipple size, basically going crazy. Oh? That's just me? Okay. Never mind.

Jimin was feeling good and fully engaged and it showed.

It picks up with them leaving the wall climbing/kart racing place and they drive to an omakase restaurant. It is a style of Japanese restaurant where the chef chooses what you will eat.

Tae understood that his presence really wasn't part of the concept of what Jimin and Jungkook were doing with this project and he did seem to respect that a little bit more as time went on.

Jimin can definitely handle Tae, he set him straight a few times in this episode, just like he did in the last one.

Jimin and Jungkook really do sleep together. There was no reason for them to share a bed for as long as they did in this episode, there was another completely fine empty bed in the room. They made jokes about hitting each other in their sleep, which correlates with their banter during JK's naked-in-bed live after the Connecticut trip.

Anyway, its time for another nap for me. Carry on. Try not to break the pause/rewind buttons on your keyboard...

[spacebarbarianweird]

For the angsty romance prompts, #6?

"i am sor-" "don't you dare apologize."

"I am sor-" "don't you dare apologize" from Angsty Romance Prompt List

Probably not that angsty, I just can't hurt this character

(no beta)

Masterlist

AO3

Headcanons

Reverie

"Astarion?"

He sits motionless with an empty stare into the darkness. His eyes are open wide and his lips moving as if he is whispering. The vampire is completely naked.

How long has he been like that?

He doesn't notice you. His whole world is probably shrunk to the dark chamber of his mind. Elven trance. Or more like its twisted version when Astarion just has to relive the same horrid events over and over again?

Reverie - the Elven trance - is the way for Tel'Quessira to remember their long lives. But what if your long life was just a parade of horrors until recently?

"Astarion, can you hear me?"

Nothing. He isn't here.

You aren't sure what to do. Wake him up? Put the blanket over his naked body? Just sit there till he returns to reality?

What?

You sit beside him and gently touch his hand. It's cold like marble. You study his veins visible through the pale skin.

"Astarion, wake up."

And again, nothing. You put your hand on his back, touching the edges of the scars.

The thought of how painful it was for him makes you sick.

Vampires are stuck in time. Their regeneration is nothing but reclaiming the state of the body at the moment of death. That's why Astarion's hair doesn't grow. And when Cazador would flay his skin, it healed within the moments - and then, the vampire lord flayed it again. And again. And again.

The only thing that can leave permanent marks is silver.

The silver dagger cut those awful symbols onAstarion's back. And it will always remind him of the past. Nothing will ever make up for this.

You try to be as gentle as possible, caressing his skin as if it were the cat's fur. Careful, thoughtful.

Then, you wrap your hands around his waist and place the cheek on his back as if trying to hear the heartbeat.

Suddenly, his body tenses. Astarion jumps on his feet, making you fall on the wooden floor. His face is distorted with anger.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

You stand up and reach out for him but he bares the fangs. He looks like a wounded predator, dangerous and desperate.

"I am not touching you. What was it?"

"Nothing," he mutters. "Fuck! Why?!"

"Why what?"

He steps back as if you've hit him.

"How can I be with you if I can't trust you?!"

Oh no.

His back.

It's not like he forbade you from touching it. But he said to you at least a few times not to touch it without consent.

You violated his boundaries. This innocent touch was like torture to Astarion. What is worse, caused by you.

"I am sorry-"

"Don't you dare apologize! You knew what you were doing!"

Whatever you say now, it will make it worse. Much worse.

"What next, Tav? What else will you want to do to me when I am in reverie? When I am unconscious?"

Suddenly Astarion gets silent as if finally noticing he is naked.

You leave the room, carefully closing the door, the feeling of guilt and self-blame scorching your brain.

… A few hours later, you sit on the roof of the inn, watching the town. It's dark and quiet at night, as if abandoned.

You hear the soft steps behind you. Astarion, fully clothed, looks at you with his crimson eyes that glow a bit.

"Listen… Tav... I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"Never mind. Should have chosen a different way to wake you up."

He sits beside you. "I was re-living the moments when those scars were engraved on my skin. Over and over again. I knew it wasn't real, I knew it was just a memory, but the the pain was so real, I couldn't do anything."

"Astarion, I promise I won't touch the scars ever again!"

He chuckles and then puts off his shirt as if feeling hot.

"I need you to touch them. Please. I want to forget. I need to forget!"

He sits on the edge of the roof, and you crawl away a bit, so his back is right in front of your chest. Astarion does look like a marble statue. Cold white skin and no breathing.

You carefully touch the upper scars, caressing them with your fingers. Astarion doesn't move.

You intensify your touches, stroking his back and drawing invisible figures on his skin.

"You know… Silver feels like melted steel. I thought I would die of pain and shock the moment he touched me. But it was only the beginning. It took him a few days to finish the poem. Well, we both didn't need to sleep, after all."

You plant a kiss in the center of the scars, and Astarion shivers.

"I couldn't die. Because I was already dead."

You put your hands on his shoulders. No one will ever hurt him. He won't allow it. You won't allow it. You are his, and he is yours.

"Tav..."

"Hm?"

"You see the scars every day. How repulsive do they look?"

"They don't."

"Tav, for fuck's sake..."

You touch his curls and make Astarion look at you. "They don't. I feel sick when I think about how you got them. I tremble every time I realize that when I was happy, when I had fun, when I cheered - you were tortured at that dungeon with no hope to escape. But the scars themselves don't look that awful. I thought so the moment I saw them for the first time. I still think so."

He smiles and kisses your forehead. Your heart melts.

"So, I can touch your back now, or I still should ask first?"

"Don't ask. Let's… limit consent to strictly sexual things, if I can word it this way."

"Deal."

"And about what happened earlier. I am sorry-"

You smile and put your thumb against his lower lip.

"Don't you dare apologize."

--

Tel'Quessira - Elves ("the people")

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl@starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster@caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes

[httpsdrewstarkey]

idek what to request just want some drew and reader getting all domestic or maybe her writing a letter to him saying how proud she is of how much he’s accomplished 💗💗

Between Us || Drew Starkey

authors note: making my way through all my requests!! enjoy anon :)

warnings: none, just pure fluff

She sat in their shared apartment, the familiar quiet of the evening surrounding her. Drew had been sending her updates from Venice all night, keeping her close to him despite the miles between them. It was the premiere of Queer, and she could sense his excitement through every message. He told her about the red carpet, the lights, the people, and with each text, it felt like she was right there with him, living the moment by his side.

When morning came, her phone was filled with notifications—interviews, photos, videos of him from the premiere. She scrolled through them slowly, taking in every detail. He looked incredible, answering questions with ease. But it wasn’t just the way he spoke; it was the light in his eyes, the happiness that radiated from him. Seeing him so at ease, so confident, made her heart swell in a way that felt almost too much to hold. He had worked so hard to get to this moment, and there he was, shining.

She put her phone down for a moment and looked around their apartment, the space they had built together. It wasn’t just a place they lived—it was theirs. The photos of them on the wall, capturing memories of trips they’d taken and moments they’d shared. His clothes were hanging in the closet, his jackets mixed in with hers. The little details they had both added—like the plants they bought together, or the artwork they hung after fighting where everything should go—made this apartment feel like home. Their home.

As she looked at it all, all these memories began to flood her mind. She thought about the first time they met, how something in her just knew. Their first date, when time seemed to disappear, and they talked like they had known each other forever. The nervousness they both felt introducing each other to their families and friends, and how natural it all felt afterward like their lives had always been connected.

Her mind wandered to the quieter moments too��the late nights they spent together, him stressing about wanting to do well in his new movie, wanting to make everyone proud. She remembered the way he would stay up with her when she couldn’t sleep, or run her a bath after a long day, even when he was exhausted himself. They took care of each other in ways that were simple but meant everything. In those moments, it wasn’t just about love; it was about the life they were building together, every day.

And now, seeing him in those clips—standing tall, confident, and sure of himself—it made her so proud she could barely contain it. She was proud of the man he had become, but also of the man he had always been—the one who was kind, compassionate, and thoughtful.

With her heart full and her mind swirling with everything they had been through together, she sat down on the couch. She picked up a pen and paper, feeling the need to write it all down—the love, the pride, the memories. She wanted him to know just how much he meant to her, not just for what he had accomplished, but for how he loved her, how they took care of each other, and how they had built this life together.

Drew,

Sometimes I can't help but just stop and look at you, and it hits me all over again—how lucky I am to have you in my life. It’s like my heart swells to the point where I can barely hold it together. There are moments when I feel like I’m about to burst because of how much I love you. I can’t explain it fully, but it’s like you walk into a room or say something in that way you do, and I just think, “How did I get so lucky? How is this amazing person mine?”

It’s the little things. The way you pull me closer when we’re sitting on the couch, like you can’t help but want to be near me. The way you know exactly when I need a hug, or when I just need you to listen. Sometimes I catch you looking at me, and the softness in your eyes makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world that matters to you. And God, that feeling—that’s something I never want to let go of.

You have this way of making me feel safe, like nothing bad could ever touch me as long as you’re around. It’s not just about the big things you’ve accomplished, though I am so proud of you for everything you’ve done. It’s the way you do them—with so much heart. You’re relentless in your drive, but you never lose that kindness, that warmth. You’re the most determined person I know, but you’re also the most compassionate. It’s a rare combination, and I’m in awe of it every single day.

I don’t know if you realize how much of an impact you have on me, on the people around you. You’ve achieved so much, but even if none of that mattered—if it was just you and me, here, in this moment—I would still feel like the luckiest person alive. You make life better just by being in it.

I know you sometimes feel like you have to keep proving yourself, like there’s always more to do or to be, but to me, you’ve always been more than enough. You’re enough in the way you love, in the way you care, in the way you just are. I look at you and I don’t see someone who has to climb higher or achieve more. I see someone who has already given me the world just by being by my side.

I love you, Drew. More than words can really say. And I am endlessly proud of you—not just for what you’ve accomplished, but for who you are. You are my heart and soul, and I will never stop feeling lucky that you’re mine.

Love always, 

Y/N 

[toomuchracket]

tan lines (flatmate!matty x reader smut)

part of summer75, alternatively known as "the 69 fic". bon appetit <3

the flat is suspiciously quiet when you get home.

usually, matty's making some sort of noise - singing, talking to himself, or playing while he writes - or listening to something, the TV or the radio or a record. if he's doing none of these things, the sound effects of whatever video game he's into at the moment are usually audible, assaulting your ears as soon as you step through the front door.

but today… nothing. well, nothing but the air con, providing a slight but welcome reprieve from the blistering heat outside.

“baby?” you shout down the hall, dropping your bag and kicking your shoes off. he's in the flat somewhere, because his car and house keys are still hanging from the tuning pegs on the old guitar head you stuck to the wall for that very purpose, but he doesn't reply. brow furrowed, you wander past the bathroom, knocking the door and opening it to find the room empty. “matty, where are you?”

your next port of call is the kitchen, which you do linger in despite its matty-less-ness, just long enough to down some of the apple juice stashed in the fridge. once the heat in your body is alleviated somewhat, you continue on into the living room, where it becomes immediately apparent that said alleviation was futile; matty's there, stretched out asleep on the sofa, softly-heaving chest illuminated by the sun.

and he's stark fucking naked.

heat floods your cheeks, slightly embarrassed to have stumbled upon him so exposed like this - when your brain remembers he's your boyfriend, though, the heat floods… elsewhere on your body, and before you know it your legs are carrying you towards the couch and settling in a kneeling position beside it. you rest your head on matty's thigh, as slowly as possible so you don't wake him, and look up towards his face. as he is in every facet of life, he's a pretty sleeper, long eyelashes lightly brushing his cheekbones and those beautiful lips open in a slight pout, and you're content to just adoringly watch him dream, heart fit to burst with how sweet he is and how much you love him.

and then he moves, shifting more onto his side towards the sun, and sweetness is the last thing on your mind.

whatever he's dreaming about - you hope it's you - has him half-hard, and it honest to god has your mouth watering. muscle memory, you think; one of your personal favourite mutual discoveries about matty in bed is how much he enjoys getting fully hard in your mouth before he fucks it, weaving his hands into your hair and groaning about how pretty you look sucking his dick, and looking at him right now is upping your desperation to recreate it all to an insane level.

yeah, you need to wake him up right now.

still on your knees, you shuffle up further towards that pretty face; one hand comes up to caress it, the side of your index finger satin-soft against matty's slightly stubbled cheek, while the other is poised right over his dick, ready to stroke when your boyfriend starts to stir. voice singsongy and little more than a whisper, you speak. “matty, baby, wake up.”

matty sniffs, eyebrows raising while his lids stay firmly closed. a noise of vague recognition rumbles in his chest, turning into a light moan when you tentatively drag your nails up the length of his cock - when you circle the tip with the pad of your index finger, smiling as you spread the pre-cum all over his head, matty's eyes flutter open with a satisfied hum. “hi, darling,” his voice is scratchy with sleep, and it's really fucking doing it for you. in contrast to the sexiness of his voice, though, his brow furrows cutely. “am i still dreaming?”

“no, sweetheart,” you giggle, leaning in to kiss him softly. “i'm real, see?”

he huffs out a laugh. “feels familiar,” he kisses you, groaning into your lips when you start to slowly wank him off properly. “fuck, feels good.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. thank you,” he beams, and your heart flutters. “what brought this treat on?”

you shrug. “came home to my incredibly hot, incredibly naked boyfriend, and i wanted to make him feel good. why are you naked, by the way, baby?”

“was - fuck, babe, just like that, yeah - was sunbathing, and i didn't want any tan lines,” matty blushes, smiling bashfully while you laugh. “s'pose i was just so content that i fell asleep.”

“and here was me thinking you were doing some new free-use sex thing for me.”

he groans. “don't give me any ideas, sweetheart, especially when you're dressed like that.”

“you like my work outfit?”

“you know i do.”

speeding your hand movement up the tiniest bit, you smile as sweetly as you can muster. “you wanna fuck me in it?”

“christ, you can't just say things like that to me, darling,” matty's hands come up to his face; he shakes his head before dragging them downwards, smiling exhaustedly at you. “s'like you want me to cum immediately.”

“i wouldn't be opposed,” to prove your point, you speed your hand up again, beaming at the whine that leaves matty's lips and the way his hips jerk up into your grasp. “but you have to answer my question first, sweet boy.”

he sighs, gulping before he talks. “wanna go down on you in it more than anything else right now.”

oh.

you hum happily. ���shuffle down the couch a bit for me, then, please, sweetheart.”

matty looks confused, but does as you ask. “what for, babe?”

caressing his cheek again, you beam. “so i can sit on your face. if that's alright with you, of course, my love.”

he blinks repeatedly while you keep on beaming at him, trying to compute your words in his groggy brain; suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you with the same desperation he's always kissed you with, as if you're on the edge of slipping through his calloused figures like the sand in his sleepy eyes. “underwear off. now,” he mutters into you - then, a somewhat less gruff afterthought. “please, darling.”

“okay,” you oblige as you stand, leaving your (damp) thong in a puddle on the floor as you climb onto your boyfriend and the sofa. “fuck, this is tight.”

“oi, s’my line,” the smile is audible in matty's voice as he tugs you back towards his face.

you sigh, leaning down to take his dick in your hand again. “shut up, babe.”

“gladly.”

before you even have time to sarcastically thank him, your boyfriend's tongue slices through your soaked core. you gasp out some sort of shocked moan, a wanton sound that mutates into a whimper when his mouth finds your clit and sucks on the bundle of nerves; when you take his dick into your mouth, it's as much an act of keeping yourself grounded as it is an act of getting matty off. he groans into your cunt when you deepthroat him, and the sound makes you simultaneously hurtle towards your own climax and diligently focus on getting matty to his. unlike other times you've found yourself in this position with your boyfriend, though, there's no competition - just two people working as best they can to make their lover feel good.

however, if it was a contest, you would doubtless win; matty's hips are already jerking up sporadically, a primal instinct for friction so he can finish. despite the pleasure clouding your own brain, you focus enough to dig your manicured nails into his thigh to subdue him, and he obeys with a whimper directly on your clit. you have to hand it to him, though - even on the very precipice of orgasm, he's dead-set on getting you off, eating you like he hasn't had a meal in weeks and sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. he pulls back, very briefly, just enough to warn you of what you already know is imminent. “babe, baby, fuck, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum.”

you stay silent, diligent, aside from a soft hum around his dick and a slight smile; the vibrations from the noise are enough to set matty off, and he spurts into your mouth with a series of whimpers, hips continuing to fuck your throat as he rides out the last of the orgasm. eyes watering and mouth full of your boyfriend, you slide off him with a pop, swallowing his cum and gasping - half for air, half from the pleasure he's giving you now that his sole focus is to make you cum.

and he does just that, embarrassingly quickly for you, that fucking tongue of his making you shake and cry and see stars and soak his face with your release. actually, the orgasm is so strong that you honestly black out for a second - at least, you think you did, because how else would you have ended up curled into matty's chest so soon after cumming, his lips on your forehead and a hand in your hair?

regardless, that's where you find yourself, in the arms of the person who loves you most in the world, both of you spent and sated and so content. there's silence for a minute, save the sounds of east london through the open window and the two of you breathing in tandem, until matty looks down at you with a shit-eating grin on his pretty, soaked face. “so, babe… how was work?”

[doromoni]

Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1

Act 2 . Part 4 : A Driver’s Stratagem

Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader

Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance

Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Dark Characters, Forced Drug Use , Swearing

A/N : This one took so much revisions , I swear, I put more effort and dedication into this than my Uni papers.

Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 goes off track and only one will reign victorious

< Previous Masterlist Next >

Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The air hummed with adrenaline and the roaring sounds of engines filled the entire circuit— as the smell of synthetic oil wafted each corner of the grid.

It was finally Sunday — it was race day. It was the day to see how truly monstrous your dynamic with the Dutch Red Bull Driver was. It was the day to make Mercedes rue the days they’d taken you for granted.

It was time to make sure that Max Verstappen would become a World Champion.

Red Bull’s garage buzzed with the sound of drills and chatters of mechanics as they set up spare parts for the cars. Everything was like clockwork, every action smooth and practiced.

It was an hour till the cars were brought out to the grid, with Max’s car placed in first— right on pole. You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Toto’s face, red from anger. You could still hear his deranged shouts and banging on unsuspecting headsets on tables.

With final checks on the pit wall; ensuring that whatever happens you’ll never be cut from Max’s radio. The memory of Mercedes‘ betrayal had made you paranoid, even when no one from RB had shown shown anything sketchy.

Nevertheless, it was still your first race with Max, anything and anyone can change anytime. You wouldn’t make the same mistake of trusting anyone that easily.

So engrossed with your thoughts and triple checking on the data on your station, that you didn’t realize Max’s presence behind you

“Well hello there pretty engineer “ And suddenly, you were engulfed by strong arms from behind. Max’s lips briefly met your own as you looked over your shoulder and up at the racer.

You both knew that you were supposed to be keeping things lowkey, however Max couldn’t care less when there were no cameras around — He didn’t care if cameras were present or not but out of respect for you, he kept the PDA to a minimum. You were his girlfriend and he needs everyone to know and back off, whenever he can.

“Hi, babe! I was just about to go see you. I just need to finish checking your stats” you explained to your boyfriend as you proceeded to point out something on your screen. You found the extra hundredths of the second in the track and began to fully explain every detail to the Dutch driver.

“I love it when you get all nerdy with me, Schat. “ Max suddenly interjected, a fond smile on his face as he gazed down at you.

Your cheeks grew redder by the second. A shy smile on your lips as your eyes avoided Max's eyes. You were used to people rolling their eyes at your intellect at Mercedes. Now with Max openly admiring you… you didn’t know how to respond.

“ Are you getting shy with me, Schat? How adorable can you be” Max laughed as he let go of your waist from behind, then held your cheeks together and looked directly at your steadily growing red face.

“Shut up! Don’t make me throw your race, Max Verstappen” You bluffed with the Red Bull driver a loving smile on your face, smacking your hand to his arms.

“Whatever happened to keep work and our personal lives separate? Huh, Schat?” You rolled your eyes to your cheeky boyfriend’s sass.

Oh boy, how you were starting to fall deeper for the Dutch Driver.

“Well I’m not the one who can’t keep my hands to myself in the office , now am I?” You sassed back.

“Well my girlfriend is hot and smart, how could I resist?” You couldn’t help but laugh at your boyfriend’s audacity.

“ you’re unbelievable! Aren’t you supposed to be resting and getting inside your driver's room? “ You asked as you spun your chair fully towards Max, him now in between your legs.

“I know, but I wanted to see you first. How are you feeling, Y/N? You ready for the race?” Your heart melted as Max took your hand in his and squeezed it for comfort.

“ I should be the one asking you that, Max.” You cooed at him as tears glazed your eyes. He was the one fighting for the championship and risking his life on track — yet he was concerned over you.

“ I’m ready. Thank you for trusting me as your engineer. Let’s give them hell” You grinned towards the Champion contender of Red Bull.

Max couldn’t help but capture your lips in his at the sight of you. He only dreamed of you looking at him like this. The look you once gave to Lewis Hamilton. The look of love and devotion. Now it was aimed at him.

However, unknown to the both of you a person clad in a black team uniform had been recording the entire encounter.

***

The hour flew by fast, and it was now time to race in the pinnacle of motorsport.

Max was strapped down in his car, helmet on and visor down — your voice in his ear ready to command. Max had zeroed in, all attention was ahead of him and nothing else.

While you were in your element, the Red Bull headset firmed on your head. As your co-engineers continue to exchange data amongst the team.

“ 1 minute to start Max” you echoed the time on your screen.

“Copy, Y/N. Let’s give them hell” Max’s voice held assurance. He was not just saying it. He was promising it.

“30 seconds, Max. Keep safe out there yeah? 10 seconds”

“5 seconds”

As the lights go out, Crofty delivers his famous lines. The race had begun and in the blink of an eye — 20 race cars had flown past the pit walls that held all race engineers and team principals.

As the green flag was waved the 1st lap of the 56-lap race began.

Max and Lewis showed no mercy to each other, already butting heads from the very start. Max was shoved out of the track by Hamilton. Lewis held the lead with Max not far in his tail.

“Max, keep it steady. We are going for strat 2” you calmly echoed towards the driver. You knew Max was pissed, but you had a plan for this.

“Copy, Y/N. Strat 2 is good” Max had replied.

The race had gone on with Lewis still in the lead. You knew that your old team was cherishing every second of it.

Yet you had everything pat down and you just needed to trust the data and Max’s ability to deliver. And that trust had solidified at lap 26, Max had been once again in the lead with fresher tires.

The race was starting to finish, it was the 2nd to the last lap. Hamilton was just 1.94 seconds behind Verstappen.

Your eyes darted towards the drivers on the grid, Max was fast approaching Mick’s lapped Haas. The Haas car looked like it was not going to move anytime soon.

And you were right as Max had complained on the radio.

“Michael should move out of the way.” At Max’s input — you’ve already sent the memo to Haas.

As Mick’s car gave way, Max zoomed past with Lewis right behind the Red Bull car— hopefully trying to gain p1.

Yet as the chequered flag had approached, Max had kept everything calm and cool — and in the blink of an eye, Max had crossed the finish line.

Cheers erupted from all corners of Red Bull. A huge grin on your face as Christian Horner shook your shoulder from the side.

Max had won! You were successful in leading him to victory. The relief washed over you like water on a blistering hot day. The motor world had seen you succeed outside of Mercedes — your talent didn’t just rely on Lewis.

Y/N L/N had led another driver towards victory. And you had proved that this was not a fluke or by chance.

Not when, Max had won the next race in Mexico. This time Max had won from 3rd place in the grid. And with 15 seconds to spare from Lewis.

“Max Verstappen! You’ve won Mexico! My goodness, and with a 15-second lead. You’re incredible! “ You praised your boyfriend openly astonished at his raw talent.

“Simply Lovely, Y//N! Wow! Your strategy was flawless, Thank you for that! From p3 to p1! Thank you everyone” Max’s voice echoed out of your earphones.

As you celebrated Max’s win on the podium —You were then informed that you were to be interviewed by Sky Sports right after. You had asked who was hosting. And the name of your ex-driver was said. Nico Rosberg.

You never thought of the possibility of talking to Nico again. Not after everything in Mercedes, not when your once close relationship with the German driver had been torn to pieces.

You admit that you had made mistakes, huge ones, both of you did. But you cannot deny that you missed him.

You were starting to get nervous and you had started to overthink, but your attention was drawn back towards Max.

He looked majestic up on that podium. It looked almost natural that he was on top.

The Dutch national anthem played, and you found his eyes on you. Your heart had skipped a beat, and you couldn't help but smile. A calming sensation drew over you. Negative thoughts left your mind as Max had overridden each one.

And to the surprise of the world, in front of live television, all cameras panned on him.

His lips echoed the words

“I Love You, Y/N ” his eyes still locked in yours.

Your surprise was an understatement, but your entire being felt like you were floating. You felt so much joy - you felt so much love. You felt seen and cherished

A piece of you had been healed by Max’s actions. Max had just done what Lewis could never do - He had shown the world that you were his and he was yours. Your eyes held tears as the smile on your face grew.

And you echoed back.

“I Love you too. “

As the anthem reached its final note. Champagnes then sprayed all over the podium, and into your section with your team below.

Everyone in Red Bull was enjoying the celebration including you, when you felt a pair of eyes on you. You searched for the person, you looked around and saw nothing.

But then you looked up, your eyes caught Lewis’. You saw pain, confusion and anger. His eyes used to make you back down — but not anymore.

You held his gaze, never looking away. You saw his jaw clench as he was forced to look away. Your eyes sight drew back towards Max, he was already looking at you with a look of question.

It was not one of doubt, but just plain curiosity. You knew that he trusted you. So you once again mouthed words to the Dutch driver.

“I’ll tell you later”

***

Later came quickly, as you and Max had been lounging inside his motorhome. Both are now clean yet exhausted after the shower you both took. Both of you took more than a shower inside that bathroom and you were sure that everyone had heard.

Nevertheless, neither you nor Max cared as adrenaline, emotions, and passion overtook both your senses.

You were now both presentable and dressed in comfier team uniforms. You and Max had occupied the small bed inside his driver's room. Max’s arms draped over your waist and your back gently laid on his chest.

“I’m being interviewed by Nico later” you blurted out.

“Really? Well, are you ok with doing it?” Max had questioned. Max knew everything that had happened inside Mercedes. Every betrayal and every crime that they’ve done to you. And that included your past with both drivers.

“Honestly, I miss him. Max” your voice broke as you said those words aloud. Max was the only person you got to tell about Nico. Everyone in Mercedes had hated him after he’d left and you knew Lewis despised him so you’ve always kept to yourself about how much you’ve missed your big brother figure.

When you started in F1, Nico Rosberg was your first driver and you were a junior engineer in his team. It was the year 2011 and you were just a rookie, everyone had given you no attention and kept pushing you aside, but Nico had seen you and put you under his wing.

The two of you became closer and closer as the year went on. You’ve been to his house, met his girlfriend and family and even celebrated his birthdays.

Then 2012 came, and you had grown and flourished; you had climbed the ladder in such a short amount of time —you were set to become Nico’s lead race engineer for the next year to come. At that point, you had thought that your bond with Nico would be strong forever.

That was until 2013 came. Lewis Hamilton was enlisted to Join Mercedes AMG F1. Nico was delighted to have his childhood friend on the team — much so that he introduced the two of you.

You didn’t like Lewis at first and Nico knew that and he laughed at you; saying that you weren’t going to be having much interaction with Lewis anyway since you were going to be his engineer.

And when you were announced to be Lewis’ lead race engineer — you were dumbfounded. Your eyes looked for Nico’s familiar figure but you didn’t find even his silhouette.

You felt betrayed and angry at Nico. You thought that he was the one who chose to remove you from his team. Your anger and resentment towards your supposed brother had just continued to fester— as he continued to grow distant from you.

And your emotions had drawn you to the arms of Lewis Hamilton. You’ve sought solitude in the embrace of a man in a relationship and Nico had been the only one to see this.

Then he had confronted you and had warned you to stay clear of Lewis. In your anger, so many harsh and cutting words were said — you had targeted all of his insecurities and you instantly felt regret as you let go of the words you didn’t mean.

That encounter had fully severed your relationship with Nico. You tried to apologize, but every time you tried shame filled all your senses and you just turned the other way instead.

2014 came and he got married. You waited for your invitation but it never came — you broke down once again. 2016 had been brutal, as you watched the love of your life and the brother you cherished killing each other on the track.

Nico won that year, you were secretly so happy for him. He did deserve it. Then Nico announced his retirement, and that was when you knew you had missed your chance to mend your broken relationship.

“Go talk to him. If what you told me was true, I’m sure he misses you too. He’s probably waiting for you to make the first move” Max’s words had brought peace within you and you knew what he said was right.

“Well he is a diva, “ you said jokingly. You knew that it should be you to apologize first. And it seemed that you were given the chance to right your wrongs.

“That’s Britney for you” You laughed at Max’s teasing words. Nico hated being called that, but when it came to you — he didn’t mind.

Suddenly you remembered the texts Lewis sent you last race ago. And you decided that Max should probably know it — you didn’t want to keep secrets from him.

“Babe, I need to tell you something about Lewis” You took your phone out and showed the concerning texts Lewis had sent you to the Red Bull driver.

“Holy Shit” Max’s eyes grew large as he went to read the conversation between you and Lewis

“ Right? This is so concerning. Should I tell Christian about this?” Your fingers fidgeted over your phone, as you surveyed Max’s expression.

Confusion, Puzzlement and Shock had shown itself in Max’s expression. You were about to question Max if he knew anything about that party with the other drivers when a knock and the voice of an RB personnel stopped you.

“Ms. Y/N? It's time for your interview in the paddock, we need to go now. You’ll go live in 10 minutes”

“I’ll be out now” You quickly stood up from Max’s embrace and checked yourself out in the mirror in Max’s bathroom.

You looked back at your boyfriend who was still on his bed.

“We’re continuing this conversation later, babe” You went near him chastity kissed his lips, and wiped the excess lipstick that transferred to his skin.

“ Sure, Schat. Don’t be scared of Nico alright? “ Max had reminded you, as he tucked a loose hair in your ear. You nodded your head and gave Max one last peck.

As you went out the door. Max’s facade quickly warped into coldness and irritability. Hamilton was getting in the way again.

Max then recalled his conversation with Toto Wolff.

“ This wasn’t in the deal, Wolff! “ Max hollered at the Austrian team principal.

“You wanted them to break up right?! And I don’t want Lewis anywhere near L/N. Lewis isn’t giving up, he wants her back” Toto had stated back to the Red Bull driver. As he nursed scotch in his hand, swirling the drink.

“I know that! I need them apart. But come on?!! You want to roofie your driver? Are you fucking insane?!”

“ OF COURSE I DON'T!! I have no other option! All of Lewis’ attention has been on getting L/N back, he’s fucking slacking. I need Y/N to break Lewis… fully. I need him angry — and what more than her going to the enemy? The girl is already leaving — yet still causing trouble for my fucking team”

“You’re crazy Wolff. Aren’t you worried that she’ll work with me and deny the 8th championship from you?”

“She’s already in your team, the bitch moves fast. And no I'm not worried, a girl like her can’t amount to her success. I’m sure she’ll drag you down”

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that! I swear I’ll break this glass and shove it down your throat, Wolff. We’re not friends, you’re still a piece of shit — fucking remember that.” Max suddenly threw the whiskey glass just behind Toto’s head. No ounce of fear nor regret in the Dutch driver.

“Well? What do you say Verstappen? I’ll have my people slip Lewis a pill then you’ll swoop right in and get your chance with the girl” Toto cleared his throat, taken aback by Max’s sudden show of aggression

“Do it. Drug Hamilton, I’ll do the rest. Y/N won't be Lewis’ problem. Nothing should come out of this room, you hear me, Wolff?” Max gritted out.

“ It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Max Verstappen. “

Taglist : @vicurious28 @xoscar03 @barnestatic @stelena-klayley @sopheeg @imagandom @4-20-21-12 @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @minkyungseokie @d3kstar @kimialaia @cosmicwintr @younxii @ssrcsm @paigem00 @seokjinkismet @wcnorris @jayjay11122 @embersparklz @sam-is-lost @peterholland04 @luckyladycreator2 @lovemesomeescapism @yettobedetermined7 @nikfigueiredo @ironmaiden1313 @alliwantisadonut @uuoozzii @marshmummy @kemillyfreitas @yaesflorist @zoeyjadetice2010 @splaterparty0-0 @likedbygaslyy @myinternettlifeimagine @ilamara @pluviophilefangirl @starssfall @haydensith @adoreleeknw @leilanixx @dr4g0ngirl @forfeityourbugs @choisannyreads @justtprachisblog @felicityforyou @jehun @halleest @closestthingtocoffee @jexxy04 @tremendousstarlighttragedy

[icaruspendragon]

im sorry to ask but i dont know what else to do—how did you do it how did you dig yourself out because it feels like i am choking on dirt and people keep shoveling it onto me and i miss her so much and i dont know how to make this feeling stop. she was my best friend. ive never lived in a world without her before. how did you do it. how are you doing it

grief is so hard and so heavy when we first meet it. it feels like all our arms will ever hold for the rest of forever. and it is, in a sense. once we pick it up, we never really set it down. not fully.

and I don't think it gets lighter, I think we somehow, impossibly, get stronger.

there's lots of metaphors for grief. that's one of them. another one I like to use is that it feels like you're in the grave with them. like lazarus. like yourself. waiting for someone to raise you from the dead. to raise you both.

I've learned a lot about crawling out of the grave. more than I would have ever wanted to learn. like how emptiness is actually quite heavy. or how to pretend like you feel half-alive. but I think the most important thing I've learned is that somedays, we inexplicably end up back in it. and that sucks.

because we just spent months clawing our way through the bugs and the earth. because our soldier-hands have finally breached the surface. because the sun is finally caressing our hell-fresh faces. because for the first time in months we feel like we can finally breath. and then, suddenly, we're right back in the terrible thick of it.

those days make it feel like I'm sisyphus and grave dirt is my rock. or like I'm prometheus and the darkness is my eagle.

but then it's tuesday.

which is to say my brother died on my 25th birthday, a monday. and that day is now a memory that's fuzzy around the edges. single snapshots I know are connected, but I couldn't tell you how. I remember my mother standing in my bedroom and tears and family and phone calls and cleaning my living room because I didn't know what to do with my hands. I remember going to my grandmothers and my phone vibrating off the table and leaving to go get coffee because I couldn't sit still. I remember joking, trying to joke. trying to do whatever I could to make sense of that impossible day. I remember checking my phone and reading and rereading the messages, a mixed bag of congratulations for surviving another year and condolences that my brother didn't, I remember not knowing how to respond to any of them. so I didn't. I remember being surrounded by so many people doing nothing but extending love and kindness to me and never feeling more alone. the world was ending and I was alone. I thought that day would go on forever.

but it didn't.

it ended, as all things do. monday was over and my first day as an only child was done.

and suddenly it was tuesday. and everything was different but also exactly the same.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead. I was so heavy when I woke up that first tuesday. so heavy and confused. I thought the world had ended. it surely felt like it had. but it hadn't. because the world couldn't have ended on monday.

not if it was tuesday.

it was tuesday and my brother was dead but the world wasn't ending. monday should have been our demise, but it wasn't. and it hasn't. and it won't. because just as sure as we have mondays, we'll always have tuesdays.

that's something I've taken a strange comfort in, knowing that we'll always have tuesdays.

the feeling never stops. but I think that's okay. because you're only feeling that way because there was love first. and as much as what I felt on that first tuesday hurts, as much as it suffocates, as much as it consumes, I'd take the hurt and the suffocation and the consumption because the love I felt first will always, always be worth it.

tuesdays will always be worth it.

like yeah, if I loved less, it wouldn't hurt this bad. but I don't want to live in a world where I have to love less. where I was loved less.

I'll take the pain. I'll take the grave days. I'll take the rock. I'll take the eagle. I'll take apocalyptic, earthshaking mondays. I'll take every last wretched bit because goddamn what a miracle it is to love so bad it hurts this big.

I hold that love, his love for me and my love for him, a love that's now become our love in the cage of my ribs while I'm in the cage of the grave. and I dig.

it's monday and I dig.

I dig.

and then tuesday comes.