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#just not like. in front of aye lmao
sollucets · 1 year
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okay i’m finally here to give you a prompt HSKDKSDK first of all congrats on the milestone!!! secondly, i’m thinking akkayan + 24+25 for the touch prompts? i saw those ones and immediately thought of them hanging out with kanthua + namowat and a sensitive topic for one of them comes up?
hi liz ✨✨ im finally here to give you a fic! this was a lovely prompt thank u very much 💜
24 + 25 (whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin + stroking their arm soothingly); set somewhere in the back half of e12, probably; about 1.4k of group reflection
💜
“Did you all see Aunt Waree smiling today?” Namo asks into the silence.
Akk glances up from his book. Their entire group is sprawled across various surfaces in one of the common areas of Akk and Wat’s shared dorm building, exam prep supplies scattered all around them across the furniture and the generic patterned carpet. 
To Akk’s left, Aye is tucked into the corner of a moderately-comfortable couch, a notepad propped up against his legs and his laptop balanced precariously on the armrest. He’s changed out of his uniform and into a soft-looking, pale green t-shirt. Akk thinks his lips might be shinier than before, too, but he’s really trying not to check too much. It’s been happening more often recently, the lip gloss, and it makes Akk — well. Not study.
Across from them, Kan and Thua are sitting squished together on a loveseat, both out of their uniform jackets and excessively cuddly, and Namo and Wat take up another couch. Wat sits normally, but Namo is on his back and half-sprawled across the rest of the cushions, legs nearly in Wat’s lap. 
They’re the only ones in the room; if Akk’s tenuous reputation with the Suppalo populace combined with Wat and Kan’s overprotective posturing has done them any good, it’s that any space they take up on or even near campus usually gets given a wide berth. 
“Yeah, right,” Kan says dryly, not even bothering to look up. For the most part they’ve been surprisingly industrious given the group composition, but somebody has been interrupting at almost-clockwork fifteen-minute intervals the entire time. Himself and Thua aside, most of his friends don’t have the best attention span; Aye does, actually, but he seems to be perfectly fine with interruptions as long as he gets to pester Akk during them. 
“No, for real,” Namo insists, letting his book drop open onto his chest. Akk winces. He could at least use a bookmark. “When she came into class, she was all smiley, and she even said good morning to us before the head of cl— before class got called into session. I didn’t know she could do that.” 
His last-minute word swap is likely for the sake of Thua, who’d lost his position after his suspension. To Akk, it doesn’t seem like Thua really cares about that, but they’ve all been doing kind of a lot of sidestepping around each other’s issues in group settings. Some of them are better at it than others. 
Akk has talked, one-on-one, with most of his friends; he’s cried embarrassingly into Wat’s shoulder, let Kan hit him then hug him, let Thua say whatever he needed to despite Aye’s disapproval and came out of it with the same fire-forged understanding he’d had before. He isn’t sure if the others have done something close to the same, but when they’re all together there’s an unspoken agreement to leave it alone. A group delusion, maybe, pretending that they’re normal high schoolers for just a little longer. 
Finally, Wat looks up, casting Namo a sidelong glance. “No, he’s right, I saw it. It is pretty odd, but she’s just always been the kind of person who’s very careful about her image.” 
Akk, for his part, had not seen it. Before class started today Aye had kicked him under their shared desk, and when he’d reflexively kicked back he’d gotten an inexplicably softer one in return, and then again until he realized they were just nudging each other back and forth and Aye had a silly little smile on his face (and he had one too, probably, definitely). He was not paying attention. 
So that’s why he’s mildly offended when Aye chimes in. “I saw it too.” Their eyes meet briefly, and Akk doesn’t know how to object without admitting to being embarrassing, so he’s still just frowning aimlessly when Aye continues, “She’s really been a lot more relaxed lately. Maybe she feels freer.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.
Akk gets it, he thinks; he’s had enough practice on the other end of this particular Aye habit. It’s just him being all empathetic despite himself again. He still wants to be angry with her, and he’d deserve to be, after all the school’s teachers did to him, but he can’t help seeing it from her side even though he’d really rather not. 
Wat, apparently noticing the shift in mood, sounds more subdued when he says, “I mean, it really wasn’t always so bad. Our teachers are strict, it’s— the culture, but I think it got worse this year. With— everything.” 
Akk winces. Everyone is looking up now, Kan’s face set in those serious lines that suit him surprisingly well and Thua’s eyes unreadable under his lashes. 
Uncharacteristically, Namo’s half-smile goes more sincere. “You’re right,” he says honestly. “It was better when Teacher Dika was here.”
Thua’s eyes snap to Namo and Wat’s eyes snap to Aye and Kan’s mouth half-opens as they all simultaneously realize that there’s only one person in the room who wasn’t in a different room all that time ago. He doesn’t know. 
Before he can think about it, Akk is already reaching out to put a hand on Aye’s arm. He hasn’t moved, or said anything, but Akk finds him tense under his touch, staring at a fixed point in the distance that isn’t quite Namo. His hair is coming unstyled a little, a strand falling into his eyes. 
Namo doesn’t seem to notice the temperature dropping just yet. He genuinely looks thoughtful as he continues, “Even if he was a junior teacher, it sets an example. Like Teacher Sani now.”
Akk lets his fingers travel down Aye’s bicep, hoping to get any reaction at all. He’s rewarded with Aye turning to look up at him; after a moment, his eyes seem to focus back in from wherever he’d gone to look at Akk’s face. 
“Namo,” starts Wat, sounding uncertain, but he’s interrupted. 
Swallowing audibly, Aye looks across to Namo and asks, “How was it better?” 
“Oh, right, you wouldn't have been here,” Namo says cheerily. “He was an English teacher, but he worked in student welfare, too. Not that I was there all the time, of course,” he adds after a moment, in an immediately suspicious way. “But he was a really nice guy, even when he would’ve had every reason to scold people, and I think other staff saw that.” 
That sits there in the air for a moment, until, quietly, Thua says, “He always had these jokes on the whiteboard in his office, in English, that he’d explain all the parts of even if you didn’t ask.”
Aye laughs a little at that. It’s more breath than sound, and it looks like it startles him; Akk gives in to his own urge to comfort and puts his arm fully around his boyfriend, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. Instantly, Aye leans into it, soft against Akk’s side even as his notes slide haphazardly out of his lap.
Kan, having clearly seen them, starts loudly trying to remember one of Teacher Dika’s whiteboard jokes, exaggeratedly mispronouncing the words to make Thua giggle. Grateful, Akk takes the opportunity to dip his head and move even closer. His lips brush skin as he murmurs into Aye’s ear, “You’re alright?” 
In his hold, Aye wiggles a little, probably ticklish, and says, “I think so. Mostly.” It comes out wondering, like he hadn’t been sure, like he’d expected it to hurt more. “I— he did that at home, too. He had printed-out lists.”
That doesn’t surprise Akk. It makes sense, he thinks, for Teacher Dika to have tried to show as much of himself as he could have. And Namo’s right; they had seen that, for better and for worse. He wouldn’t blame Aye if he never forgave anyone for what they’d done with that, if he stood up right now and demanded they shut up about him, if he said it wasn’t like they had any right to his memory. Akk certainly doesn’t feel like he does, some days. 
Aye doesn’t do any of that. He just curls all the way into Akk, breathes intentionally even, and listens to them talk with a contemplative expression on his face. The others cast sidelong glances at him from time to time, worried, and then less, and then they’re moving on, eventually getting back to what they’re supposed to be here for. 
But Aye stays tucked comfortable and close, refusing to move when they have to arrange their notes again, even though it’s not like Akk was letting go. Their friends make fun of them, but only gently, the same way they’d do for anyone else, and that too is different now. 
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redstarwriting · 1 year
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bestie
spider squad x black cat!fem!reader
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request?: yes
request: “hi! okay i love your works and my brains been rotting thinking abt this lol. i was wondering if i could request a black cat variant! reader that somehow (idk how sorry ), she's apart of the spider-society? Given that black cats backstory isn't all that nice, maybe she has a deal W miguel to let her stay if she makes sure she uses her skills to help the society instead of stealing? and how the squad(miles, gwen, pav, hobie) meet her in the society?”
requested by: anon​
word count: 2.1k
genre: platonic and chaotic LMAO
Warnings: language, stealing, bad Spanish, slight Gwen crush if you squint but also like not really
A/N: STOP I LOVE WRITING PLATONIC AND CHAOTIC THINGS!! i did change up the prompt a bit as they didn’t meet her in spider society necessarily (even though the did, they just didn’t know it lol) i hope you enjoy this anon! also if anyone wants to knows some of the specific songs that gave me black cat 2099 vibes lemme know 👀 i’ll make a post
pt ii - becoming hobie’s bestie
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Gwen, Miles, Pavitr, and Hobie were called to “the principal’s office” as they started calling it. So here they are, in front of Miguel, waiting to be reprimanded for something they did. “I have a mission for the three of you,” he says, pointing to Miles, Gwen, and Pav. “Hobie, you’re not needed.”
“Like ‘ell I’m not,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Miguel subtly smiles to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.
“Wait, what?” Miles asks, eyes wide. “You aren’t gonna yell at us for existing?” Gwen asks, equally as surprised. Miguel rolls his eyes. “For existing? When have I ever…” he trails off as Pav, Hobie, and Gwen point at Miles. 
And Miles points at himself. 
“Dios mío,” Miguel mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No. I’m not doing that. This time.”
“What’s the mission then? Are we going somewhere new? Oh! Can I bring back a souvenir?” Pavitr asks, excitedly. “No, but I’m sure you’ll end up with some sort of souvenir regardless,” Miguel grumbles, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “Well, what do you mean by that?” Gwen asks and Miguel types into his computer. A picture of a girl pops up on the screen. “I need you to bring me her.”
“Uhhh what? You want us to bring you a… civilian?” Miles asks, and Miguel nods. “She’ll respond to you all better. You’re the same age,” Miguel says, and they all glance at each other. “Can you not be secretive for like, a couple of seconds? Is she an anomaly?”
“No, Gwen. Just bring her to Spider Society, please. She’s from this universe, so I’m just sending you to where I need you to go,” Miguel says, opening a portal for them to go through. They all glance at each other before Gwen shrugs, walking through the portal. Miles and Pav follow her, and Hobie rolls his eyes following the three of them. They find themselves… at a show? They’re on top of the catwalk in a stadium show, looking down at the audience. “What the hell?” Gwen mumbles and Hobie is intrigued when he sees the instruments on the stage. “Now why did he send us to a concert?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. Right at that moment, the lights go down and everyone starts to scream. “So, you think she’s in the crowd? How are we supposed to find someone in all of these people?” Miles asks, and Pav shrugs. “I can do it, easily,” Pav says, and Miles and Gwen give him a Look™. “What?! It’s simple you just look for her face! Miguel showed us a picture of her.”
“Aye, ‘e’s right. Found her,” Hobie says, and they all look at him. He’s pointing, and they follow his finger. “SHE’S THE SINGER?!” Gwen yells as the music starts. “Yeah. Guess we gotta wait for the set to finish,” Hobie says, shrugging and sitting on the catwalk, “Gettin’ a free show outta this shit at least.”
“Oh, please, every show you’ve ever been to has been free,” Gwen says, sitting next to him, taking her mask off. Hobie, Pav, and Miles all follow suit. “What does Miguel want with a singer?”
“I like her outfit,” Pav says, ignoring Miles’ question and sitting next to Gwen. Miles quickly slips between Pav and Gwen, shooing him away slightly. “Not my style. Lyrics ain’t bad,” Hobie says, leaning back and observing the performance, “She can sing, I’ll give ‘er ‘at.”
“I fuck with it. Lyrics speak to me,” Gwen says, and Pav nods. “She seems angry.”
“Yeah, that’s why I can respect what she’s doin’. Threatenin’ and angry music is cool,” Hobie says, bobbing his head up and down. Gwen nods. “Okay, guys, seriously, what does Miguel want with a singer?”
“Maybe she’s a scientist or something? Miguel needs her help?” Gwen suggests, and Miles shakes his head. “Nah, I feel like he’d just meet with her then.”
“He did mention she was close to our age, though. And her songs make it sound like she has an issue with authority,” Pav mentions, and Hobie nods. “I fuck with ‘er.” They all look at him. “Oh, I get it. She’s Hobie’s age,” Gwen says, and Hobie raises his eyebrow. “What does ‘at ‘ave to do with anythin’?”
“You two are the same age, both have a problem with authority… whatever she is, she needs someone she can relate to to actually come with us,” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “Guess ‘at makes sense.” The four of them continue watching the concert. Even though it isn’t necessarily punk music, Hobie loves the lyrics. And Gwen loves all of the songs because she understands the lyrics more than the other guys. Miles is enjoying it because Gwen is enjoying it, and Pav is enjoying it because other people are enjoying it. However, neither of them would probably listen to this after this mission. When you’re nearing the end, Miles slips his mask back on. “Alright, everyone. What’s the plan?”
“We need to get backstage,” Gwen says, slipping her mask on as well. “‘ave a gander down there,” Hobie says, pointing at some marks on the stage. “What’s that?” Pav asks. “Pyrotechnics. When they go off, we go in,” Hobie says, and they all nod. “Hope they’re big enough that no one sees us,” Gwen mumbles and Hobie scoffs. “Gwendy, it’s a stadium show. It’s ‘bout to be big,” he says. The four of them prepare, running along the catwalk and getting ready to web back to where you would disappear to. Sure enough, the pyrotechnics go off and Hobie was right. They’re big. It gives them the advantage as they slip undetected backstage. They hide high up, watching as you run offstage after your encore. They silently follow you to your dressing room and Miles points at an air vent. Gwen nods, quietly yanking it off of its hinges. She crawls inside, taking a glance to make sure you’re still clothed, and then motions for the boys to follow.
Meanwhile, you’re wiping your makeup off, sipping on some water to soothe your throat from your performance. You walk away from the giant mirror to go grab a snack in the corner of the room when, suddenly, you feel like someone is watching you. You subtly unsheathe your hairbrush, which doubles as a dagger. Just in case. You take a deep breath, turning around, and throwing it. Miles leaps out of the way, and the other three’s eyes are wide. The accuracy with that throw was a little too good. “None of you are Miguel,” you say, on edge still. “Ay, don’t compare me to that bloody bloke. I’d rather die than be called ‘im,” Hobie says, and you give him an amused look. “I can arrange that,” you say, and Gwen clears her throat. “I just wanted to say your concert was like, totally, awesome.”
“Aw, thanks! Did you pay to watch?” you ask and she looks around. “Well uh… I, um—” She gets cut off by your laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t give a fuck if you didn’t. In fact, I would prefer you didn’t,” you explain. “Oh! Then no. Too cool to pay, you know?” Gwen rambles and Miles turns his head to her, giving her a look that translates into ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ You chuckle. “Why are you four here, then? Señor O’Hara miss me?” you take a bite of the snack you picked, leaning against the wall. “How do you know Miguel?” Pav asks and you snort. “Long story. Oh! He finally find out I took something from him?” you ask, tossing your food to the side and crossing your arms. “I… we actually don’t know. He just said we had to bring you back to—”
“Wait he’s actually inviting me into his super secret spider society?” you ask, a look of excitement spreading across your face. “Uh. Yes?” Miles says, and you squeal. “This is so exciting! My first time being invited, okay, great, hold on,” you say, quickly running off and behind the changing room divider. “Uh… you’re just gonna come with us?” Gwen asks, and you yell a quick ‘yep!’ They all look at each other and shrug. “No offense, sweet’eart, but I thought it woulda been ‘arder to convince ya. Wasn’t aware bein’ invited by a stuck-up wanker like ‘im was all it would take,” Hobie says, and they hear a giggle from behind the screen. “Oh this isn’t my first time in his little fanclub,” you step out from behind the divider, garnishing an all-black catsuit with shiny black gloves coming to claws at the fingers. A small eye mask adorns your face, and you smirk. “It’s just the first time he’ll know I’m there.”
“Holy shit, no way! You’re Black Cat!” Gwen says, and you do a little curtsy. “Pleased to make your acquaintance officially, Gwen Stacy,” you say, and her eyes get big. “How did you know—”
“Like I said. Not my first time there. Surprising since you all have that spidey sense or whatever, but guess I’m just that good,” you say, pulling out a dimension-hopping watch. “When did you—”
“Do I have to say I’ve been to your Spidertopia already again? Come on, I’m sure your pendejo of a boss is waiting for us,” you grin, and Hobie shakes his head. “Not my boss. I like you, though. Gettin’ fuck the establishment vibes,” he says, and you wink at him. “Thanks, Hobie Brown. Appreciate it. Also, Pavitr, you need to tell me what your haircare routine is,” you walk through the portal, and the four of them follow after you. Sure enough, you step out of the portal and stand right in front of Miguel’s desk. “Hello there, Spider-Boy,” you say, and he sighs. “(Y/n). Give me the device back. Now.”
“I’m good, actually. Been having too much fun with it,” you say, placing it on your wrist. He mutters something in Spanish as the four of them appear behind you. “Wait, if you’re Black Cat, why are you like… a superstar?” Miles asks, taking his mask off. “Was told at a young age to never settle for second best. So, I never did. Also if you want to steal from the big leagues, you have to be in with the big leagues,” you say, shrugging. “Damn, she is… so cool,” Gwen whispers. “We have an agreement, (Y/n),” MIguel says and you groan. “Miguel! Big guy, amigo, can I call you that?”
“No.”
“Don’t care, when have I ever stuck with an agreement?” you ask and he frowns. “This is all because you want to be able to come here whenever you want, isn’t it?” he asks and you grin. “You’re so smart, bestie,” you say and he groans. “You’re impossible.”
“I know. So can I come here and not have to worry about multiple spiders biting me all at once?” you ask, and he sighs. “Yes.”
“YE—”
“BUT!”
“Fuck, there’s a but,” you groan, as he continues talking, “No. Stealing.” You feign offense. “What makes you think I would ever steal something from here?” He points to your wrist. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This was gifted to me.”
“By who.”
“Myself.”
“Esta maldita chica,” he mumbles, and you grin. “Well, thank you so much for approving my breaking and entering of your little arachnid club. I’ll be sure to return everything I’ve taken in hopes that you would notice I wanted to be invited,” you grin, and he clenches his jaw. “You step one toe out of line—”
“I woooon’t! Promise! Before I return everything though, I kinda have a heist planned in Earth-42,” you shrug, pulling up a portal. “I’ll tell Miles you said hi, Miles,” you give him a smirk, but before disappearing into the portal, you hear Miguel. “When you’re done come back here. I actually might be able to use you for something.”
You smile at him. “Say less, Spider-Man.” Then, you disappear. “We’re about to see a lot more of her, aren’t we?” Miles asks, and Miguel sighs and nods. “Dude! She is so cool!” Gwen says, and Hobie nods. “She don’t take shit from no one. Respectable.”
“She’s funny! And she was able to shut you down, Miguel, that never happens,” Pav says, laughing a bit. “She seems kinda crazy,” Miles says.”
“What, like we aren’t?” Gwen retaliates and he shrugs. “I am perfectly sane! Most of the time…”
Miguel runs his hand through his hair in frustration as the four of them continue discussing you while walking out of the room.
He was not looking forward to the friendship the five of you were about to form.
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cordeliawhohung · 2 months
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soap x f!reader | drabble
cw: smut, dub-con voyeurism, religious talk and standards, virginity taking/hymen breaking, breeding kink, just a lot of fucking filth, unrealistic sex, this was just an idea i need to get out of my brain so i can work on something else lmao
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You always knew Johnny was a traditional and devout Catholic, but you didn't think he'd consummate your marriage with an audience; let alone in front of the members of his task force.
"It's okay," he coos softly. Soft sheets sprawl underneath your bare body as your wide eyes catch sight of the three men entering the hotel suite. Shaky hands grab Johnny's arms as you attempt to bury yourself in his exposed skin to save yourself any sort of embarrassment. You recognize them instantly as attendants of your wedding — they're even still wearing their suits — but that doesn't ease your anxiety any further. "They're just 'ere tae watch. Ah work with them. Trust them with mah life. Won't speak a word."
There are only so many chairs in the room for them to take. John, who you remember being introduced to earlier that night as Johnny's captain, drags one of the office chairs to the foot of the bed. He sits with a polite smile, as if you're meeting for Sunday brunch. Kyle does the same, both of them sitting, legs spread far, knees nearly knocking together. The lieutenant, Simon, doesn't make himself nearly as comfortable. He stands behind them, arms crossed over a broad chest as his eyes wander your body, taking in the sight of your soft skin and neatly done bridal makeup. Your skin perks, prompting you to cover yourself with your arms as a chill racks your body.
"To watch?" you repeat, teeth sinking into your lower lip. "I don't... I don't know, Johnny."
"We have tae," he presses, fingers ghosting over your cheek and turning your attention to him. The mazarine hue of his eyes bores into you as he leans up, hand wandering over your torso until he rests on your stomach. "Everyone has tae know this bairn A'm gonna give ye is mine."
"But, I've never-" you begin to protest.
"I know ye haven't," he shushes. "This is how it's always been done. Tradition, aye? Please, mah love."
You love Johnny. You wouldn't have married him if you didn't. But this strong ambivalence is torturous. It tingles up your spine in line with the watchful eyes at the foot of your bed. But you love Johnny, and if this is what he wants, then you'll give it to him.
"Okay," you eventually concede.
He grins. "Ah love ye."
When his lips meet yours, you feel the warm beads of his rosary rest on your chest. He had you pray with him before this. Kneeling next to the bed, elbows resting on the mattress, thanking the Lord for your union and the child you'll eventually bring to this world. Despite tradition, consummating your marriage this way feels blasphemous, put on display for his teammates to see like a whore rather than a wife.
Johnny's hand begins to wander between your legs, rubbing over your clit in a way that leaves your hips bucking into his touch. You rarely touch yourself like this, too afraid to revel in sin, but his touch is searing. Unfamiliar and burning. He chuckles, warm and low, as his fingers begin to prod further, relentless ardor exuding from his body. When he presses into your cunt and meets resistance, he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as he leans back.
"Spread yer legs for me, lovely," he prompts.
Body stuck on auto pilot, you listen before your brain has time to process his request. Knees bent, your thighs separate as the heels of your feet dig into the soft mattress, and Johnny wastes no time spreading the lips of your pussy for the boys to see.
"Christ," John groans. "She's still intact."
You make the mistake of looking past Johnny, and you see the way the boys paw at themselves. Chubbed cocks straining against the pristine fabric of their dress pants, palms rubbing at themselves for any fraction of relief.
"Look at ye, so lovely," Johnny sighs. He settles between your legs, body blocking the view of your bare, unfucked cunt. He tugs at his aching cock, and this is the first time you've allowed yourself to push past your bashfulness and look at it. Delicate reddened skin, a thick base and heavy veins — he's going to tear you apart. "Gonna let me have ye? Tell me yer mine."
You swallow the discomfiture stuck in your throat. "I'm yours, Johnny."
There's no more time to waste — he presses into you, leaky tip butting against the thin membrane of your hymen. Pressure builds as he pushes, and your eyes screw tight at the sting as thin skin stretches and accommodates his length.
"Go on, love," Kyle prompts. "Don't hold back now."
You whimper, but you don't know if it's from the teasing or from Johnny finally bottoming out. Wide eyes stare down between your legs where the two of you are joined, and you see the slight tinge of blood that covers the base of his cock. You groan as your head hits the pillow, never having felt so full in your entire life.
"Fuckin' hell. Hardly gave 'er any time to adjust, you dog," Simon teases through a grunt.
Johnny's hips slowly move back, leaving you empty for only a split moment before he pushes forward again, hips hitting yours with a lewd slap. You gasp, air being sucked free from your lungs as he grinds deep inside of you, in a place where no one else has been.
"Cannae help maself," he breathes, face burrowing into the side of your neck. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close as you drown your moans into his skin. "Have'ta give mah wife the best. Cannae settle for any less. Need'ta give her a sweet bairn, just like Ah promised."
Your mind goes blank as more moaning and grunts join in harmony with yours and Johnny's. Belts become undone with quiet clinks followed quickly by sticky skin on skin contact as the boys rut into their own palms. There's no time to feel bashful about their transgressions in your presence. Pure hedonia captures your mind, numbing anything else as Johnny's thumb presses against your clit. You tighten around him, and he growls against your throat.
Something overwhelms him. Makes him insatiable as his cock pistons into you at a relentless pace. When you finally get your eyes to open through it all, a halo of light illuminates behind him as if he were an angel. Soft, defused, and gentle as the rosary around his neck swings with his movements. You feel something build inside of you, a needy pressure that expands in the heat of your stomach, where it grows, and grows, and grows until-
"J-Johnny, f... fuck!"
It's a sin to enjoy sex. You've known as much since you were young. But this is the closest to heaven you've ever felt. Not even praising God in the pews of your grandiose church has ever brought you this much bliss. The curse falls from your lips as that pressure snaps, body convulsing, pussy clenching around Johnny as if to draw him in, beckoning, demanding he give what he's promised.
And he does. Stuttering hips seize as his cock pulses inside of you, and you swear you feel every single throb as his body pins yours to the bed, warm sweat staining the sheets. He sows his seed, and you feel tears prick the corner of your eyes at the utter ardor you harbor for him in your heart.
When Johnny pulls out, he keeps your legs spread wide to show the boys, each of whom have made messes of themselves. Wasted cum coats their fingers where they quickly clean themselves up on handkerchiefs, eyes still glued to your leaking cunt. Simon mutters something about you dripping, that he shouldn't let his work go to waste, and Johnny agrees by gathering his spend on his fingers and shoving it back inside of you. They chuckle at the way you jolt.
Just as promised, the boys leave once everything is clean, each of them muttering congratulations as the hotel room door shuts behind them. But he can't stop himself there. He lies with you as you both catch your breaths, but it's only minutes before he's shoving his cock into you once more. You whimper, tell him that you shouldn't have sex more than necessary, that it's a terrible sin you'll both have to repent for, but he coos and tells you not to worry. He just wants to make sure his seed takes. That he gives you what he swore he would.
"Besides," he whispers, lips brushing against your ear just as his cock hits your cervix, "don't have'tae hold back anymore with the boys gone. Can have mah lovely wife all to maself now."
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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months
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SUSPICIOUS SILENCE.
Modern!Daemon Targaryen x pregnant!wife!Reader
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WARNINGS: Family fluff, hinted lactation kink lol
WORDS: 986
NOTES: Here is the fluff everyone (me lmao) wanted!! Love me some nice happy family scenarios with our favorite men, tbh. And I'm stuck in limbo with Object of Desire right now! This is not beta read!
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Daemon was working from home today to take care of your daughter while you were out for brunch with Floris, his nephew’s wife that’s also winding down the halfway mark of pregnancy just like you. 
And although it’s around your toddler’s daytime nap time, it’s too quiet when you open the front door to your penthouse. Suspiciously quiet. 
You should be hearing Daemon talk on the phone or type on his keyboard, very rarely even doing the cleaning. But the door to his office is ajar, the light is turned on, however, there’s complete silence. 
As you walk towards it, peeking into the room, you notice it’s vacant, the large office chair empty. 
You frown, and continue to walk along the hallway. There’s nervousness creeping up on you, mostly because Daemon would’ve messaged you if he decided to go outside with your daughter, and you start to rub your protruding bump in a reassuring manner. That is, until you stand in the door to the living space; the sight you’re greeted with immediately melting your heart. 
Daemon is lying on the sofa, bare chested and a towel still clutched in his right hand, and your little daughter is firmly tucked into his left side, her cheek pressed against his chest with his hand resting on her back. 
The sight of your little daughter sleeping soundly in his arms is enough to make you smile. Despite his rough exterior, your big, tough husband also is a loving father who doesn’t hesitate to do anything for his family. 
You walk over to him, and press a gentle kiss to his forehead which slowly makes his mesmerizing blue eyes creak open. Squinting them to adjust to the brightness of the room, he doesn’t move a muscle besides that to not wake the sleeping toddler up. 
Daemon gazes up at you with a soft stare, before finally speaking with a low voice. “Hello, darling. How was your day?”
Caressing his arm tenderly, you smile at him. “It was alright. You two are enjoying some quality time, I see,” you whisper. “Had a nice nap?”
“Aye, we had quite a fun time. Wanted to take a quick shower while she was asleep, but she woke up and needed me to comfort her.”
You gently fondle your daughter’s hair, smoothing it as you both just watch her for a moment. “I’ll watch her for a little while if you still want to take a shower,” you eventually propose. 
But your husband isn’t having any of it. “Nah, how about you join us now, and we both take that shower together once this little monkey’s in bed, mh?” His hand clasps around your wrist, and he gently tugs you towards the sofa, not giving you any chance to reject his offer. 
His proposition makes you chuckle softly, and you feel your cheeks turn red. If there is one thing your husband knows, it’s how to take care of you, too. After the birth of your daughter, you’ve been feeling insecure about your body, especially with the weight you’ve gained throughout the pregnancy. But there hasn’t passed one moment where Daemon hasn’t made you feel desired and wanted by him, and the look he currently gives you is enough to send your hormones raging again.
Throwing the towel aside, you sit down to his right and snuggle up against him. His right hand snakes around your waist, instinctively coming to rest atop your swollen belly, and you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his irresistible scent. 
The toddler stirs slightly in her sleep, but isn’t too fazed by the slight commotion of you joining them on the sofa. 
“You do make a convincing argument,” you whisper, licking your lips.   
Noticing the sudden flush of color that appears on your cheeks, a mischievous glint flickers in his eyes. He nudges his nose against yours, and it’s enough to coax you to kiss him. It’s soft, barely more than a peck, and you’re struggling to keep yourself composed hearing his next words. 
“I can convince you of far better things once we’re all by ourselves, darling.”
You chuckle at his remark, and place your hand atop his on your bump, squeezing it softly. “Make sure to keep that promise. Don’t want to hope you’re just all talk,” you tease, your eyes flickering between his and his lips. “There are two things I definitely need your help with, Daddy.” 
Briefly glancing down at your swollen breasts, already producing enough milk as if they mean to provide for twins, you can spot the exact moment Daemon’s brain processes the innuendo. 
You follow his line of sight, lingering a tad too long on your full breasts, and chuckle as you notice his breath hitch in his throat. 
Daemon gives you a teasing look, the blue hue of his eyes almost eclipsed by black at this point, and bites his bottom lip. “I’m sure I can assist you thoroughly with whatever you need, darling.”
Running a hand through his hair before you slowly rise from the sofa, you giggle as you see him pout. “Let’s see then how well you follow through on your promises, Daddy,” you say, bringing your index finger to your lips as if you’re in thought. “Maybe we should ask Rhaenyra to take our girl for the night? Jace is just a few months older, and he’s completely besotted with her. We haven’t had any alone time in ages, and I’m sure she and Harwin won’t mind.” 
You can’t see the look on Daemon’s face at your suggestion, for you make yourself on your way to prepare the afternoon snack for your soon-to-wake daughter, but you hear him sigh loud and clear, and it’s enough to make you grin and your heart flutter. Just the anticipation of finally having some well deserved alone time with him again makes your blood run hot. 
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hotchgirlsummer · 2 years
Text
mess of mine ⤷ aaron hotchner x reader
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summary ⤷ aaron hotchner never expected to find an adorable woman when he was out asking around about their unsub. turns out she's all he needs to brighten up his life.
pairing ⤷ aaron hotchner x fem!bimbo!reader
warnings ⤷ unsub takedown. unsub has a knife. mentions of typical cm violence, killing, and general disdain towards women. rossi calls the reader a bimbo lmao
word count ⤷ 6k words
a/n ⤷ bear with me as i am obsessed with the idea of a bimbo being with aaron in the most adorable way possible 😭 and i dont meant bimbo in a derogatory way! but just someone who isn't book smart ig? the reader in this fic i imagine to be so good with fashion in styling so yeah... i know i didnt do justice with the whole narrowing down the search for an unsub or the way they handled the take down but i have to admit this is just self-indulgent as i want be aaron's brainless girl ❤️ anyway, feedback is appreciated for this! might turn this into a mini series so yeah. happy holidays!
“Excuse me, may I speak with you?” A deep voice made Y/N turn around from where she was organizing some of the new clothes that had just arrived. Smiling at the dark-haired man who stood in a crisp suit, she looked at his clothes and pouted, “I’m sorry but we don’t usually sell those suits, we do have some pastel ones in any case you’re interested in those instead.”
Hotch followed the direction in which she pointed and was surprised to see a couple of suits that are, to her credit roughly in his size, but instead of the neutral tones he’d go for they were in pastel pink and purple. Shaking his head and biting down a small smile he pulled for his badge and presented it to her, “Thank you for the recommendations but I’m afraid that’s not what I’m here for.”
Upon looking at the badge her eyes failed to focus on how he was part of the FBI and instead chuckled when she noticed his name, “Heh, Ay-ay-ron.” Her mispronunciation of his name caused his eyebrows to furrow as he gently corrected her, “Aaron, ma’am. Not Ay-ay-ron, I’m afraid.” Her little bubble popped when she looked into his eyes, mesmerized by the deep brown orbs she shook her head and clarified, “Oh I knew that, that was just from the Peele & Key skit. Never knew anyone named Aaron so couldn’t tease anyone by it.”
“Right,” came Hotch’s sharp reply, worried that their possible lead might be a bust due to the witness presenting signs of being dopey due to addiction. “Is there a back office where I can speak to you in private?” She pointed towards a door that had a curtain in front of it, “We can go there, we never let anyone in there because that’s where our safe and transaction lists are!”
As pleased as he was to hear that they keep a record of their transactions, he was becoming more and more alarmed at how easily she was giving away confidential business information. Inside the small room that he concluded acted as their little breakroom with the microwave placed on top of a small fridge, it also served as their surveillance room and like she said, a safe was placed there. He motioned for her to grab a seat and pulled the folder he brought with him. “The reason I’m here today is we were hoping you could point us in the direction of one of your customers.”
Looking up from the files, he was surprised to see that she was looking at him with a giddy smile, “What do you wanna know, Aaron?” Her bliss-like innocence made him think about if he was really going to taint her by telling her the horrors that brought them to this store; but it was quickly shrugged off when he remembered that there was a possibility that she was on some sort of drugs. “There has been a man who may have purchased clothes through your boutique as they have been using the clothes they purchased to redress their victims.”
“How’d you know they bought it from here?” She wondered out loud to which he replied, “We found one of the boutique’s plastic bags near the crime scene. Would you happen to have a log of your transactions?” Deciding against showing her the photos, he simply joined his hands atop the folder and looked at her. She nodded and turned to the computer table where there was a laptop, she placed it in the middle of the table, “Phoebe has me recording customers’ names, what they bought, and how they paid. Just ‘cause last time I had a mom angry with me just because their child bought a top that, like, showed too much cleavage.”
Taking it as she had given him permission to browse through their transactions, Hotch nodded, “And Phoebe is your manager, I’m assuming?” She nodded with a cute smile on her face, “She’s so nice. Real patient with me when I was training. Even taught me tricks on how I can close faster.”
As much as he wanted to direct his full attention to her, he was only able to focus on some parts of it as he was more focused on finding the masterlist of their transactions. Just as he clicked on the file he was greeted with the pop up that was asking him for a password which caused him to look up at her, “It’s asking for a password, would you happen to know what it is?”
For all the times he witnessed someone shake their head, he hated how adorable she looked when she did so with a little pout which made her glossed up lips even more tempting, “Only Phoebe knows it. She changes the password every month and I can’t keep up!” She leaned forward with her manicured nails resting on the top of the table, “One time she mixed in some capital and small letters with some numbers. It was very confusing.”
“I can see why that would be,” Aaron sympathized with her as a small smile broke out of his lipa; normally he’d be irritated with this kind of behavior but there is something endearing about her that made him think otherwise, “Would you mind if I have our technical analyst take a look into it?”
“But how? I don’t know the password and Phoebe didn’t leave a note anywhere!” She was clearly distressed about the whole thing, Hotch could also see the faint traces of frustration at not being able to help further in the investigation. His hand moved as if they had a mind of their own and held onto her smaller one, brushing the back of hers gently, “Well our analyst is like a magician, okay, sweetheart?”
Hypnotized by his caramel eyes and the comfort his touch radiated, she nodded and visibly relaxed, “In the meantime, there is something else you can help me out with, if you’re up for it.” Taking her nod as her consent he then untangled his hand with hers, he tried not to let her disappointed whimper affect him, as he opened the case file and landed on the page where they have already a profile of the unsub, “The man we’re looking for goes here often, he spends a long time looking through the clothes because he’s always looking for a particular detail or design. Whenever you speak to him, he appears nervous or shy, but he has enough charm to have you fooled that he won’t harm you at all.”
Hotch was silently cursing at himself for allowing himself to be distracted at the sight of her glossed up lips pursed as she thought hard about a customer who fit his description; looking at him in an exasperated manner as she pouts at him, clearly frustrated, “I’m sorry, but I can’t focus much right now. I could not even help you out with the password.” He grabbed for her hand once more and stroked the back of it gently, “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, pretty girl,” Instead of expressing surprise like he anticipated she would upon being called the nickname, she seems to be pleased and melts because of it, “Why don’t you close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Following his instructions, she nodded as she closed her eyes and let out a sigh while her hand clutched into his tightly, “Now, go back to a day where he comes in. What do you usually do when the boutique isn’t busy?”
“I like to rearrange the clothes — sometimes I group them by type of clothing, then by color.”
Pleased that she was now calmer which effectively made her able to recall when and how she interacted with the unsub, “That’s good. Now, he walks into the boutique. He sees you rearranging the racks. Does he talk to you right away or go browning?”
“I hear shuffling of the hangers first but I don’t turn yet because I was trying to get rid of the lint in one of the clothes,” She smiles, pleased that she’s being a bit more helpful right now. “Good,” His voice wasn’t the only one soothing her as he was rubbing her knuckles too, “What did he do that drew your attention away from what you were doing?”
“He threw some clothes on the floor, he wasn’t happy with the choices that we had that day.”
“What else did he say or do?” Hotch could see that she was working hard to think back to it, as if the frown lines that were appearing on her forehead wasn’t a clear indicator of it, “He yelled, saying what happened to this store and why did it suddenly turn into a dump. Just because we didn’t have any more available items of what he usually likes.”
She was pouting once more which made his heart flutter once more but the rational part of his brain took over as he inquired, “Were you able to get a good look at his face? Can you make out what he looks like?”
Pursing her lips as she thought about it, she looked at their hands that were still holding onto each other as she spoke, “I did see him, he picked up the clothes and apologies. Said that he just had a bad day at work.”
Hotch smiled and continued to guide her through this interview by saying, “That’s good, now do you see what he looks like, sweetheart?”
“He had very little hair, you know, like a buzz cut. Couldn’t pull it off though,” She giggled as she remembered how uneven the cut looked, “He also had this scar by his cheek,” Using her hand that wasn’t held down, she trailed the tip of her finger to her cheek from her cheekbone down near the side of her lips, “He was taller than me too!” Her excitement of remembering something completely died down when she took a good look at the unit chief in front of her — which worried him slightly but he wouldn’t admit that.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He asked to which she answered right away, “He was taller than me, but he’s not as tall as you. How tall are you, by the way?”
“6’2. Is there anything else you remember from when you guys spoke?” Aaron felt flustered once more upon her taking interest in him but was able to school his features to not give that surprise away. But his resolve was once again almost crumbling down as she tapped her fingers against his knuckles as she thought hard about her interactions with the unsub, “He returned an item once. Said that when he came up he only noticed a stain there. Phoebe told me to not accept items that have stains or any dirt in them, we always throw the clothes in the wash, you know? But there was this whole queue behind him that I just accepted the return even though I wasn’t supposed to!”
Her whine just added to the long list of what made her even more precious in his opinion as he nodded, “Do you remember where you placed this clothing? Would you mind if I took a look at it?”
Nodding she stood up and led him out of the little break room that they were in walked through the shop’s main floor — and what took the tenured profiler aback was how she did not let go of his hand, which definitely caught sight of Rossi wo was in the middle of a phone call with Garcia when he shot a smirk at the two. When a door opened to reveal another room with a washing and drying machine, and a small sink. “This is where we clean and prepare the clothes before we display them outside.”
Removing her hand from where it was engulfed in his larger one, she rifled and was looking through the four laundry baskets that were in there. Spotting the blouse he returned, she was about to pick out the blouse when he stopped her gently by pulling her arm, “Let me go through them, please.”
She nods and steps aside as she watches him put on some gloves before rifling through the baskets, “Why wouldn’t you let me help you look for it?” Hotch paused briefly and looked back at her, seeing how there was a somber look on her face as she wondered that. “You mentioned that there was dirt on the item he returned, yes?”
Nodding her head she hummed her agreement while he pointed at her hands, “Well I don’t want your pretty hands catching onto the dirt, not when your nails look good.” Complimenting a girl felt foreign to him as he hadn’t done so in a while, but it didn’t feel creepy at all. He felt vindicated when she smiled brightly and displayed one of her hands, “Thanks for noticing! I just got the shellac color done yesterday. I did a purple color last month and decided to go back to my favorite color, pink!”
Her giggles helped ease the dread he felt at the pit of his stomach upon finding the blouse that was definitely returned by their unsub. The stain she was referring to looked like blood and soil. Reaching for his back pocket, he reached for the evidence bag he carried with him in case they were to find any pieces of evidence that were hopefully going to be useful in their investigation.
“This is the blouse he returned, yeah?” He asked her, showing the stained article now in the bag. She nodded her head, “That is the one. Do you want me to clean it off before you go?”
Smiling at her well-meaning attitude he shook his head before disposing of the gloves he wore in the trash bin that was nearby. “It’s all good, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little self about it, alright? I’m gonna have to take this as evidence, can you let Phoebe know that?”
She nodded her head with a smile, “I’m sure she’ll understand. She’s nice like that, she won’t take it off my paycheck.” Gleaming at his earlier compliment she then smiled and opened the door for them to exit the tiny room. “Will I see you again?” Her voice sounded small and a bit disappointed, but he tried not to show he was feeling the same as he reached for his coat pocket and handed her his calling card. “Under these circumstances? I hope not.”
Tilting her head as she accepted the card and wondered what he meant, she had a small pout that looked very much like she wanted to be kissed. Instead, he clarified for her, “What I meant is you should call me the next time you see the buzzcut man, okay?”
“Oh! I can do that!” She cheere happily before continuing on, “Gonna call you and let you know that he’s trouble and he’s here!”
“Maybe don’t say that directly,” He warned her as he rubbed her forearms reassuringly, “Instead use a code. When you call me, tell me how you’d love for the food delivery to come right now. That way, he won't think that the FBI will be looking for him.”
Gasping at how well-thought his plan was, she giggled and jokingly gave him a pat on his shoulder as if to congratulate him, “That was so good, Aaron! You’re smart and handsome!” He wanted to prolong their conversation for as long as they could but of course the odds were against them when Rossi walked over to where they were standing over as he informed his former mentee, “Sorry to interrupt, but we got a hit and they need us back at the precinct.”
Nodding his head back to his mentor, Hotch then shot one last smile to her before offering his hand for a shake. “Thanks so much for your help, sweetheart. Keep in touch, okay?” Shaking his hand with a bright smile she nodded, “I like it when you call me sweetheart, but that’s not really my name, you know? It’s Y/N.”
“See you around then, Y/N.”
With that, the two sadly let go of the other’s hand and went back to normal, back to the reality that they had to work. As he exited the store and went ahead to maneuver the car back to the precinct, he could feel Rossi’s teasing grin at him. “What?”
“Sweetheart, huh?” Came Rossi’s reply which led Aaron to be defensive about it, “She was a bit unsettled at first. I was just trying to calm her down.” The Italian man just raised his eyebrows, getting even more suspicious if anything, “Sure, that’s all that was. Wasn’t like you found her attractive at all.”
“She is attractive, but I could also see that she was way too delicate for the horrors that we usually face,” Hoping that was enough to persuade the senior profiler that there wasn't any budding affection on his part. “All I’m saying is she is a gorgeous woman, but even you have to admit that she doesn’t seem all too smart though. She’s what would be commonly referred to as a bimbo.”
Thankful that they had arrived back in the police station so he would not have to hear what sounded like judgemental comments, Aaron slammed the driver’s door a little too hard before defending her, “How is that bad? Save your unhelpful judgements, Dave.”
Back at the station, once he had given the blouse to the precinct’s forensic team to be analyzed, the rest of the team had been brainstorming on their possible suspect pool. It didn’t take less than an hour for forensics to get back to them with a hit.
“Garcia, will you please give us the rundown on John Wesley please?” Spencer requested as soon as he phoned their technical analyst. “Born and raised in Fairfax, Virginia. Well, really raised by a single mom who did not register who the father to her baby was. He has a record for trespassing and peeping when he was only twelve, yikes. Said that since his mom had to work two, almost three jobs to support herself and him he had to be left alone in their apartment complex where sometimes peeped into the unit next door, turns out the not so good example neighbor would bring home prostitutes and saw how rough he was with them.”
“That would explain why there were bruises on the women, he must have thought that beating them up is some sick way of showing affection,” JJ deduced as Penelope unsealed court records and found out more about John. “Seems like John saw like a counselor or a therapist and he admitted that he liked the idea of women being dolled up after a rough session.”
“Seeing the prostitutes go about the rest of their day after a paid session must have left that impression on him. And he didn’t really fully comprehend how that set up works,” Reid thought out loud, to which everyone agreed.
“What’s his education, personal and work life like Garcia?” Rossi wondered.
“Well education, not so much finished high school but without any recognition you know? Took a couple of classes at the local community college but didn’t really graduate from it. Personal, still legally single by the looks of it. Work life? Oh, would you look at that.”
“Why? What is it, Garcia?” Derek was the one who snapped Garcia out of her shock. “Well it turns out he works at one of those mannequin factories. And it seems like he’s been getting reprimanded by his superior because he liked putting marks on them that looked similar to bruises. And for a while it seems like he also took some home or if not, he brought some clothes to work to dress them up.”
“That’s more than enough, did he go to work today Garcia?” Blake wondered. “He should be there, his boss had him scheduled for today until 6pm,” They all looked at the time and saw that it was 30 minutes before his shift ended. “He clocked in but has yet to clock out by the looks of it.”
“Garcia, we’re gonna need his work and home address, please.” Rossi said to which the peppy analyst declared “Done and done, stay safe crime fighters.”
“Blake, you and Reid head over to his workplace to see if he’s still there; if not, gather as much information as you can about him and how he treats the mannequins, maybe that will give us a clear COD. Morgan, you and JJ head over to the house, see if he’s holding another woman there. As soon as you see him, apprehend him. Dave and I will stay here in case there’s any further development, call for backup if needed.”
With that, the team dispersed into their assignments; Rossi slid over a cup of coffee Hotch’s way who was now engrossed as he was reading over Wesley’s file. “You know I didn’t mean anything bad with what I said earlier, right?”
That caught his attention as he looked up from the tablet and squinted a little, “Pardon me?” Rossi only chuckled as he sat down across from the unit chief before clarifying, “I knew what you meant when you mentioned that your sweetheart,” Hotch rolled his eyes at that but didn’t really feel any distaste towards him or his words, “Was a little softer than the ones we usually interact with. But I do see why you would be attracted to her — she’s kind, thoughtful, and can literally and figuratively bring color to your life.” Aaron knew that he was pertaining to how colorful her entire outfit and personality was and had to bite down a chuckle as he instead redirected his focus to the tablet, “You got all that from a few seconds of interaction?”
“What can I say? I’m a good profiler,” Now the two laughed at his little joke but did know that it was indeed the truth. “She’d be good for you, Aaron. She lives nearby so there’s no reason for you to not pursue her.”
“How about the fact that she’s younger than I am?” He remarked a bit morosefully to which he was surprised that Rossi only scoffed at, “So? It’s not like she’s underage or anything. She’d be providing you with her consent so there’s really no reason for you to feel guilt or anything like that.”
Opening his mouth to offer another rebuttal he paused mid-thought when he was suddenly hit with a realization, “Wait, why does it seem like you’re certain of her age?”
This time Rossi showed him Y/N’s file that Garcia had sent over to his phone, “Had Penelope do a background check on the employees of the boutique earlier. And let’s just say she has a squeaky clean record and is definitely of age.”
Aaron could not believe how hard Dave was so persistent with the whole thing; but when it all boils down, he’d rather have a supportive friend than one who discourages him to go out there and date. “Well I’ll leave it up to fate if I should make a move; besides I don’t even have her phone number.”
Just as he was about to be yelled at by his mentor, Hotch’s phone rang and on cue, he answered it despite the number unlisted to his contacts he answered it and greeted them by saying, “Hotchner.”
“And I got that good girl faith in that tight little skirt,” Just as she was about to sing the next line, the bell above the door rang, signaling that someone just walked in, “Welcome to Beauty Boutique! Can I help you with anything?” The cheerfulness in her voice died down upon seeing who the man was. She gulped down her nervousness, hoping that the buzzcut man would notice her feelings of unease.
“Just browsing through; thanks though, sweetheart.” An invisible shiver went down her spine; I liked it more when Aaron called me that. Heh, Ay-ay-ron, she thought to herself. But that also reminded her that she was to call him if he ever showed up. Dialing his number on her phone, she bit the skin of her fingertips anxiously as she waited for him to answer.
“Hotchner,” Came his gruff greeting. She giggled for a little before plastering a serious face on before finding the words, “Hi, I’d like the food to be delivered, please.”
On the other end of the phone, Aaron could feel the dread in him knowing that Y/N was within arm’s reach of a dangerous killer. “Alright, we’re coming Y/N. Stay calm and don’t let him see panic in your face okay, sweetheart?” He looked at Dave and nodded towards the precinct’s doors; the man nodded and headed out to let the cops and the rest of the team know that they knew about Wesley’s whereabouts.
She nodded her head against the phone as she secretly watched the unsub’s movements — who was currently busying himself in the dress section of their store — before asking, “How long until the food gets here? I don’t want it to be too cold, you know?”
Chuckling against the phone as he watched how Dave drove with urgency he assured here, “We’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Y/N, do you remember if the back door is unlocked?”
“The back door? It’s unlocked but a bit heavy for me to open, it’ll be better if you come up to the store’s front for the food,” She answered as she recalled how much she hated throwing out the garbage during closing time as it was like lifting a whole tree when she opened the back door.
“Okay good, another thing — if you can try to keep the unsub, or the buzzcut guy, within the store that’d be great. If not, make sure to keep note of which direction he goes into, alright?”
“I’m not sure I can try your spicy specialty. But I’ll give it a try. How long til it gets here again?” She asked nervously, she had eye contact with the unsub and she didn’t like the smile he shot her.
“Almost there, sweetheart. I promise,” Aaron said as he hung up the phone call when he noticed that they were a block away and had to park their vehicle. As they stepped outside he gave instructions to uniform officers to take the back entrance and that it could be a little heavy when they try to open it but it is unlocked for their convenience. “I take it back, Aaron,” Dave spoke as he and Aaron cautiously made their way to the front entrance, “Your girl’s a lot smarter than I gave her credit for.”
“Not my girl,” He said, but Hotch did admit that it sounded nice to refer to her as that.
✪ “Got some food delivered here?” Came the unsub’s question as he brought some items to the till. She nodded as she began ringing up the items. “I did, it’s lunchtime,” She tried to convince him and by the looks of it, he bought it, “Did you enjoy your shopping experience today?”
“Sure did,” he pointed to the clothes, “Found great deals on these great clothes,” Shooting her a wink that didn’t do anything to make her feel attracted to him he tried flirting by saying, “Even had a pretty view when I did so.”
An awkward laugh was all that she could give him before placing all of the items in a bag before telling him, “Your total for today is $29.54, how would you like to pay for that today?”
Reaching for his back pocket, he grabbed for his wallet before answering, “On cash, beautiful.” She just smiled as he handed her a fifty dollar bill. Opening her till she had her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he counted his change but was stopped when he held her hands. Her audible gasp just caused him to smirk even more as he said, “Say, why don’t you keep the change, and in return you can just let me take you out on a date hm? That sounds like a fair trade to me.”
“I can’t do that, my boyfriend wouldn’t like it if I went with someone who wasn’t him,” Came her reply. The man rolled his eyes as he held a tighter grip on her hand causing her to yelp out in pain, “Cut the bullshit. I’ve been here a lot of time to know for a fact that a dumb bimbo like you doesn’t have a boyfriend. So when I say we’re going out, we’re going out.”
“James Wesley, this is the FBI; let go of the woman and put your hands up in the air.”
Tears pooled in her eyes upon seeing that Aaron was in the store; this time he ditched his suit jacket and instead had a bulletproof vest. Instead of following his orders he held onto her wrist more and jumped over the counter, pressing his front to her back as he grabbed a blade from his back pocket and pressed it against her throat, “One step close and I’ll slit her throat.”
Unable to hold back her whimpers, Y/N was now crying as she felt the cold touch of the blade against her skin. “Aaron, please,” Her broken cry broke Hotch’s heart, but he knew he had to be smart; she was at the hands of a sadistic man who took pleasure in beating the crap out of women.
From behind her, James scoffed, “Don’t tell me he is the boyfriend you were lying about. Didn’t think you could land a man like him.”
“You don’t have to hurt her, James. She didn’t hurt you, she didn’t give you the false promise of love, right?” Dave negotiated, on the drive over they were given new intel about how he was hurt by his fiancee when she left him for someone who was abusive to her. Thinking that he had to inflict pain on women in order for them to love and stay loyal to him — that coupled with his distorted view of the prostitutes view rough sex — set him on the course of killing and beating up women then dressing them up, much like how the prostitutes went about their night.
“Hurting women doesn’t make them stay, James. Treating and treasuring them right is how you get them to stay,” Hotch added, which didn’t sit well with the unsub as he shook his head, his hold on Y/N getting loose as he didn’t press on the knife to her anymore. “Yeah? Is that how you get this skank?”
“Don’t you dare call her that,” Came Hotch’s cold reply but he was quick to think of a way to get Y/N out of the situation safely. He made eye contact with the uniformed officer that snuck around the back — which for some reason John didn’t notice, but they weren’t complaining about that — he looked at John's shoulder then to the officer's gun. “Shoot in the shoulder?” Mouthed Officer Harrison, to which Hotch mouthed back “Wait.”
“If anything I’m surprised you’re able to hold onto a woman,” Hotch goaded him, but not too much John would take it out on Y/N. “By the looks of it you can’t even hold onto her right.”
As John looked to see his hands he shouted, “Now!” As planned, Officer Harrison shot John’s shoulder while Rossi shot his elbow, causing him to release his grip on Y/N — who immediately ran into Aaron. Face wet with tears buried in his chest as Aaron pressed loving rubs on her back.
“I was so scared, Aaron. Tried not to panic like you said but he had a knife,” She recalled with so much fear in her voice. He soothed her by rubbing her back keeping her eyes focused on him and not on John who was now being assisted by Rossi and Harrison out of the store and into the cop car. “I know, sweetheart. And you did so well, I saw you talking to him and trying to not let him get away. Wasn’t your fault okay?”
Wiping her tears with his thumbs he tried to console her, “He’s a bad guy, no matter how good you treated him he would have been mean to you. But you best believe I would not let that happen.” She felt something warm — whether it were his hands that settled on her cheeks once he was done wiping away her tears or the way he didn’t stop until the unsub was away from her — but she realized she loved how safe and secure he made her feel was what made her feel warm.
“Thank you for saving me, Aaron. You’re the best, you know?” Now it was his turn to be flustered as he chuckled and shook his head, “Was just doing my job, sweetheart. Couldn’t let you have any more dirt in your clothes and hands.”
That elicited a giggle from her, and he was happy to see that she wasn’t now in tears and distressed by earlier events. “If you need someone to talk to, after how bad today was, you can always give me a call, okay?”
“And if I just wanted to talk to you? Or maybe go out with you for a date?” It was adorable to see her ask him, looking smaller than him and so nervous. He nodded and rubbed her cheeks lovingly, “I’d love that, sweetheart. I’d kiss your cute nose but unfortunately I’m still on the job.”
Nodding in understanding, she then smiled, “Don’t be a stranger and shoot me a text okay? Oh! That reminds me,” She stepped out within his reach and grabbed the pastel pink suit that she pointed to earlier and gave it to him, “Please take this! One of the things I’d love to see is you in this. I just know you can pull it off!”
Looking down at the clothing article, he shook his head as he laughed a little at how insistent she was being, “Sweetheart, I like how you have faith in me but I don’t think this will suit me really well.”
“Please? For me, Aaron?” She looked up at him with a pout and knew right then and there Hotch had found his kryptonite. So, with a sigh, he nodded and smiled, “Alright, but you’re gonna have to give me a hand on how to dress up with this suit okay?” Smiling so wide she gave him a hug and hummed, “Yes, yes! Thank you, Aaron!”
“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re needed back,” Rossi came and with that the two ended their hug. Y/N smiled at him as she held up her hand and grabbed a scarf and gave it to Rossi. “A little something as a thank you for saving me, Mr.”
“Rossi,” He provided, “Y/N, right?” Rossi offered his hand for a shake to which she accepted and confirmed that it was indeed her name. “Good eye, this will go well with this jacket.”
“Italian suit, right? That scarf’s material shouldn’t rub on it the wrong way.” At her input Rossi smiled at her then at Aaron, “Good catch,” Before bidding adieu to her, “See you around, Y/N.”
She looked at Aaron as if to ask what he meant with his remark but was instead interrupted when Aaron smiled at her and lifted her hand up and kissed her knuckles, “I’ll call you later, sweetheart. Take care for now.”
Feeling bold, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose, “Thank you, Aaron, for keeping me safe. I’ll be thinking of you.” And he knew that as he walked out of the store and rode back with Rossi to the station, his thoughts would be clouded by her as well. And for the first time in a while, he was glad to have this kind of distraction. She might have been a bit of a mess, but from here on out she was his mess.
part two: i’m a mess but
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sthavoc · 7 months
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hear me out bestie, an ex's to lovers. like enzo and his gf broke up for some reason but he is winning her back and not letting her go
☆ 🌃 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | ENZO VOGRINCIC
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𖥔 ࣪˖ pairing: enzo x fem!reader
𖥔 ࣪˖ summary: enzo and you have been broken up for almost a year now. the both of you hang out with the boys and you talk. he wants to win you back, and maybe he will.
𖥔 ࣪˖ warnings: beer. a few cuss words.
𖥔 ࣪˖ note: bestie ofccc!! thank you for the request and I hope you enjoy it!<3 also currently working on more requests so hang tight!! <3 juani and mati were a handful on this one lmao. hope I didn’t miss any grammar mistakes 🙏🏻.
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“A ver, chicos ya por favor bájenle a la cerveza.” You grabbed Valentino’s and Juani’s can, but they immediately grabbed it off your hands again. “Ya es la media noche por Dios.”
“Ay no seas aguafiestas nena.” Juani took a long sip of his can as he looked at you, before he began to walk away.
“No, no es que sea aguafiestas Juan Caruso. Es que no tengo ganas de cuidar de nadie.” Your words were followed by a sarcastic smile while your eyes were set on Juani.
The boys and you found yourselves at a park near La Plaza. All of you had agreed to buy a pack of beers and just hang around the park. Though the boys lost count and were starting to get a little tipsy.
“Ay, ¡Es viernes! Se bebe.” Juani dragged the last syllable of his sentence. All of this before Matias spoke—
“Ay se me antojó una pizza ¿Y si vamos por una?” Even before you spoke, all the guys were already saying yes. You knew there was no point in saying no because there was not going to be a no for an answer. Plus a pizza wasn’t a bad idea.
Everyone walked to the nearest Pizzeria of where you were. The guys walked in front as you stayed behind and watched them goof around, doing silly little things. Your arms crossed over your chest as the wind hit you. You felt like the mom of the group right now.
“Dale que yo te ayudo si se descontrolan.” Enzo’s voice comes up behind you making you turn to look at him.
“Ay eso ayudaría. Gracias.” You sighed.
“No hay de que, son una carga. Lo se.” He winks jokingly making a laugh escape out of you.
There was a silence after that. Not peaceful but not graceless either. Like you yearned for to say something but you didn’t know if you should. Enzo felt the same way, but the dissimilarity was that he wanted to say something he just didn’t know what exactly. So he just went with the classic—
“¿Como estás? ¿Como te trata la vida?” His hands rested on the inside of his pockets. He didn’t know if he should mentally slap himself or not for asking that question.
“Pues bien. La verdad nada nuevo, más que cuidar de Blue.” Blue was your 3-year-old cat. Enzo had gotten him for you, for your 1 year anniversary. “¿Y tú?” You glanced at the guys before looking back at Enzo. “¿Como te sientes con tu nuevo estilo de vida?”
Enzo chuckled before he replied. “Pues me va bien. Las fans son-” He puffs out a breath letting his hand drop towards his thigh. “Maravillosas. Los eventos, increíbles.”
To you, it seemed like Enzo was doing amazing. You were proud, there was no doubt about that. “Me da gusto escuchar eso. Estoy orgullosa de ti Enzo.”
“Gracias, nena.” A soft smile crept on Enzo’s lips after his sentence. The both of you walked and walked behind the guys. When he felt like saying something again, Matias spoke—
“Dale pelotudo dame la plata.” He jokingly pushed Juani who just shook his head and picked his hand up in the air. “Como queres que pague ¿ah?”
“Juani, ya dale el dinero a Matías.” You sighed, walking over towards the two of them. You had arrived at the Pizzeria, Juani just had to give Matias the money to go order and pay.
“Ay ya que es joda.” He dragged the last syllable before giving the money to Matias who snatched the bills from his hand.
While Matias went inside and ordered the pizza, you and Enzo stayed with the rest trying to settle them down and avoid any trouble. You had both clutch’s on Esteban and Juani while Enzo had Blas and Agustin (Lain). Valentino had ended up going with Matias. The walk back after the guys came back with the pizza was the same as the walk towards it. Except this time Matias kept putting the pizza box above his head all because Juani wanted a piece.
“Me van a matar.” You sighed as you watched them sit down on the grass with pizza in the middle. You shivered as you felt the breeze of the night whistle on the back of your neck. It sent a wave of shivers through your whole body creating goosebumps.
“Toma, nena.” Enzo came up to you with his jacket in his hand. He noticed you struggling with the cold. This man was like your guardian angel.
“No, estoy bien. Gracias.” Your words made Enzo roll his eyes. He had a feeling you would say no.
“Dale, tenes frío. Toma.” He pressed, extending his hand out even more. This time you accepted and grabbed the jacket off his hand.
“Gracias. Ni cómo pagarte el favor.” A chuckle leaves your lips while a sigh of warmth follows, as you feel the warm heat cover your upper body.
Enzo smiled when he saw you with his jacket on. It had been a long time since the last time he ever did. He didn’t even realized he missed it. Though he did get an idea—
“Déjame que te invite a cenar.”
You looked at him with a smile as your hands rested on the inside of the pockets. You knew what he was trying to do.
“¿Me diste la chaqueta para poder preguntarme esto verdad?” A slight smile carved on your lips, and shortly one did on Enzo’s as well.
“Ya, me vas a decir que no funcionó.” He wanted you to say yes, and he knew it was not going to be easy. His eyes stayed on you as you shook your head still with your smile on. You were gonna answer when Juani called your name— you’ve got to be kidding me. Enzo thought.
“Dale T/N, vengan pa’ acá. ¿Qué hacen allá?” Juani hollered waving for the both of you. “Háganle que se acaba la pizza.”
You and Enzo walked towards the circle as they made space for the both of you. The boys had already eaten, and some still were. Others were on their second round, while you and Enzo barely started.
“Dale pero no seas puerco salame.” Matías pushed Juani’s head towards the side as he watched how the curly head stuck a whole slice of pizza in his mouth, almost choking.
These two were a mess.
After you finished your pizza you had a few sips of your beer and still tried to calm down anything the boys would be doing. For a moment you got on your phone to check the time and realized it was 1:30 a.m. Until from the corner of your eye, you caught a glance of Enzo sitting next to you.
“¿Entonces?” He darted. His hands rested on his knees that he somewhat was hugging.
“¿Entonces?” You repeated, but knowing what he meant. You wanted to see how long it would take for him to keep asking you.
He sighed with a shake of the head and a smile. “¿Me vas a dejar que te invite a cenar?”
Even though Enzo and you had been broken up for almost a year now, you somehow always felt like there was still a spark left inside your heart for him. Perhaps in the moment of your breakup, you felt like it was all gone. But maybe he was starting to dig deeper into your heart and he was beginning to pull the spark again. Though if he was going to ask you out again you were not going to make it easy for him. You were going to give him the same hard time you did as the first time he asked you.
“Mmm, no lo sé. ¿Será que puedes?” Your words made his eyes glow even more than the dimmed light from the street. His lips let out a chuckle.
“Has lo que quieras. Pero voy a robar tu corazón de nuevo, chiquita.” He smirked. His words with a more serious but yet playful tone.
Your lips pressed together trying not to smile. “Ya te quiero ver intentarlo.” He didn’t even know he was already starting to. But you also didn’t want to give him the privilege of knowing he still had a sort of effect on you.
“Te di mi campera. Eso debe de contar.” He motions towards his jacket that you are wearing, with a raise of eyebrows. You beamed down at it before you skimmed back at him and said—
“Oh, vas a tener que esforzarte más, Vogrincic.”
His eyes looked at you with the most sincere look his eyes could possibly give. You could get lost in them forever.
“Si me dejas-” His voice cut off as he heard a scream from one of the boys making him sigh before he tried again. “Si me dejas, te juro que esta vez no te suelto.”
Enzo was determined to do whatever he had to do to get you back. If he had to move the oceans for you, he was certain he would.
just for you.
And that was another reason for you to start giving him a second chance to win your heart again.
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Safe Keeping | 4
Part 1 2 3 4 5
"What say you, lady? Don't you think the Hound would make a fine husband? He would protect you, yes, and you would bear him many babes." I curtsy again but this time, my voice falters when I speak, "I- I think he would," I turn to my left, "Lord Sandor would make a fine husband... a fine father."
Sandor Clegane x Reader | 8k+ | cw: fem!reader, DEATH of characters/animals/monsters, POV shifts, mentions/depictions of violence, forced marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional constipation, miscommunication, The Hound being abrasive, canon typical casual misogyny/violence, themes/mentions of menstruation/pregnancy/miscarriage, baby fever, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: ❗❗please proceed this chapter with caution. i killed a bunch of characters/animals (well and monsters but i think deserve lmao)!!! ALSO POV SHIFTSS!!!! originally posted on ao3 but felt like posting it on here. also fyi i post this story on ao3 first
Tagging: @otteropera @poisonsage808 @glitterandgoldfinds @the-queen-of-sorrows @j3nn-1
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The Hound found himself wrong about the thieving, wrong about the missing livestock. He was so wrong it nearly cost him lives, including his own.
He was so sure about himself when he went into the woods, so sure that he was going to find at least two men, at most five, luring sheep there. It was the men he was prepared for. Fuck the livestock, the farmers can get them back after he killed the fucks stealing them.
Ah, the farmers, barging into his wife's estate... into their house, into house Clegane. 
Fuck 'em, fuck the lot of them, complaining again, complaining about their sheep and their cows. He had enough of their yapping, now was the time to act.
Fuck 'em twice for being shocked when he said he'd go into the forest to kill the fucker causing all of them trouble.
The superstitious peasants warned him. The Hound heard; he even humored them by letting a few spring chickens, boy-soldiers in the making, 'aid' him as he went to the forest.
Between the young farmer's lad, Andrew, and the man-boy, Carter, who he had been training be a soldier, it was actually the Hound who was the one most frightened by that thing that stared back at them.
It looked as though it was twice his damn size. It was darker than tar, and stinkier than shit. It made an unholy sound before attacking them.
He doesn't remember what happened after that in all honesty. His instincts kicked in and he can't recall what he had done. All he knew was, in the end, the two boys were cheering and dragging a black corpse all the way back out of the woods.
The villagers looked at him. They walked towards him and shouted. It was not an unfamiliar greeting-- being pursued by villagers, and yet, it shakes him; it takes him off-guard. They come upon him and begin to weep at his feet. They thank him. They thank them as they hug each other. The thank him as they wave at him. They thank him as they touch his armor like a devout would touch an idol.
The Hound is perturbed.
"Thank you, milord! You killed the beast!"
"You saved our sheep!"
"You saved our families!"
"You saved our lives!"
The Hound was never one to back down, but Sandor found himself taking steps back when a group of children ran up to him and began to ask him how he killed it. Their little hands and big eyes demanded answers from him. His insides rise up to his mouth.
The children begin to talk about how they can go to the woods now.
"Oi!" Carter calls to the ones in front the Sandor, "you do know there's more than one woodland monsters, aye?!"
"But now milord Cligay killed one! He'll teach us how to kill the o'vers."
"It's Clegane. Lord Clegane! And even then, you buggers can't just play in the forest. The brown bears still live here."
"I haven't seen a brown bear!" a little girl cries out. She looks to the Hound, walking up to him, grabbing his hand, "there aren't any brown bears in the woods, right, milord?"
Sandor looks at the small thing. His hand burns at her touch. Her hand was not even hot, not even big enough to grasp half his palm and yet he feels lightheaded. He feels like he's going to pass out.
The Hound finds their sentiment to be all too much at one point. He grumbles he's going home; he's got much work to do. The villagers thank him as he leaves.
When he gets home, just as he gets near the gate, he beholds Lady Clegane, the people's champion, his poor bride. She is outside, speaking to some peasants; it was all she did as of late.
A breeze blows and her dress dances with the wind. Her hair follows as well, and along goes the air from his lungs.
She is the sun. He is a mountain trying to reach her.
Sandor, who hadn't realized that he stopped in his place to gawk, is shaken out of his trance when the stable boy opened the gates for him. The small child named Polly, about as old as his wife when she fled this place, nods at him and motions, "pardon, milord," he says nervously, "I didn't know you were waiting for me to open the gates."
The Hound looks at the boy as he walks in, "I wasn't," he gruffs, eyeing him as he passed, "don't worry about it, laddie."
Lord Clegane looks away from the stable boy when he hears the shrill cry of a babe. He spots the maester walking over to his wife with a wailing child in his arms.
He thinks about the letter he had to write to the Citadel, requesting a maester come to Brown Wood.
Lady Clegane thinks her husband's initiative for it stems from his sense of duty as a Lord, but she'll never know he did it for her, for her to know if she really did have a late blood cycle, or if she lost a baby. Maester Yannick told him it was, regretfully, the latter.
The Hound waited for his lady wife to tell him about it, to ask him to hold a mourning ceremony for the unborn child. She never did.
Sandor watches Lady Clegane willingly embraces the woman who thanked her up and down, over and under, for saving her baby. She tells the weeping woman that it was not her work but maester Yannick that saved the babe. Maester Yannick says it was not his work but the gods.
Sandor tastes something putrid in his mouth when his wife coos at the child, who immediately calmed when the maester reunited the small thing to mama. His insides tingle at the sound of his lady's laugh.
He curses under his breath when she turns to him. He realizes then he had stopped in his tracks again.
The Hound begins his march.
Lady Clegane greets him, but he is not strong enough to reply with a greeting himself. He doesn't know why he stops to tell her that he killed a woodland monsters though. She looked very shocked after hearing that.
He wonders if she was disappointed. He wonders if she wanted him dead.
She touches him and questions if he was injured. Sandor flinches and steps back. She recoils her hand quickly and wipes it on her skirt-- disgusted.
The Hound says she shouldn't worry her pretty squirrel head, then walks away.
His footsteps are heavy as he heads to his office. He didn't want to go through the fucking endless piles of paperwork, but the apprentice he had couldn't grasp basic mathematics quite yet, so, there he went, to go through paperwork in a musty office.
He wonders if doing this shit made a difference to her, or if she'd always see him for what he was: a groom, forced upon her as a joke from a stupid blonde boy; a beast with ill features and temper; a Hound.
He is almost tempted to look over his shoulder at the loud sound of baby's laughter. He doesn't, cause he wouldn't see anything but a wall of he did anyway.
He wonders when she'd ask him again, when she'd ask for a child from him.
He promises he'd be gentler this time, gentler.
He doesn't mean to be so rabid with her.
She just had such an ablaze spirit, she was so fierce, and so vivid that he found himself wanting to devour her whole-- a true predator.
He wishes he could be more than that. He could be more than that to her, but it's so hard to fill in to be someone you're not. The Hound was not a proper lord, he was not that pretty boy Alistair. He can only do so much.
Sandor would do much and more for her than that scrawny, faerie pretty-boy ever could.
She might not like it, but he'll do his best to give her what she wants, to give her a family in stead of the one she lost. She will never love him, but he knows she'll love all the children he could give her, and that was more than enough, more than he could ever hope for or deserve. 
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I carefully walk up to the office, clutching my hands together as I prepare myself to knock on the door.
I clear my throat and retell myself what I mean to tell my husband. My palms begin to gush like geyser. I dread the fight I know will be had because of this topic.
I let out a soft gasp when someone calls me from behind.
It was the stable boy, Polly. He had run up to bow and greet me good morning. I smile at him and reach out to him. I brush his hair back, "good morrow, Polly, dear."
The boy grins and bows again, "I'll be learning how to ride a horse soon, milady!"
I link my hands together as I chuckle, "my! Will you now? How awfully courageous of you."
The boy pushes his shoulders back, "it's no'ffin, milady. Just what a man ought to do. I would go to war for you, milady, I would!"
"My boy," shake my head, "I pray you never need to do such a thing. I hope you enjoy riding though. I find that I do not."
"Do you find riding scary? I wouldn't! I'll let you ride with me once I know how, promise," the boy nods as he places a hand on his chest.
"You are very kind," I smile, "I thank you for it, Polly."
The boy puffs his chest out and bows, "I'll be goin' then, milady!"
I chuckle as I watch Polly run off as quick as a rabbit.
My soul nearly leaves me when I turn around and see the Hound looming over me.
I gasp and step back. He reaches out to me and grabs my arm. He keeps me upright and leans down, "you better stop calling the boy dear." He releases me and begins to walk off, "he's already in love with you as is."
I blink rapidly at his words. I turn to him and watch him march away before scurrying after, "he's a child."
"Aye," says Sandor, "all the children adore you."
My stomach curdles at his words; I am unsure why. I rub my hands together, not sure what to make of myself, or what to reply.
"What were you doing outside my office?" he asks.
I run up in front of him and grab his arm, "there is something I needed to discuss with you."
Sandor stops. He looks at my hand on his arm, "can't it wait?"
I pull my hand away and shake my head, "I understand that you are very busy, my lord, but I-"
"Fine," he mutters, "I'll lay with you tonight."
My eyes widen and I topple back at his words, "what?"
The Hound steps forward, keeping me upright again, "that's why you're here, aren't you?" He releases me, "your bloods have waned."
I feel my face burn. I gulp and force a smile, "I-" I chuckle nervously and straighten up, "y-yes. My bloods have waned."
Sandor watches me closely.
I rub my neck and blink rapidly, "I thank you for your thoughtfulness," I dig my thumb nail into my pointer finger. I turn from my feet then to Sandor, "but that is not what I wished to speak about."
His face falls. It's not anything noticeable but I have become quite good at it, reading his face. He purses his lips then says, "be done with it then, I've got work to do, pretty squirrel."
I feel my face burn even more at his horrible nickname.
A group of women had been complimenting my dress when the Hound passed. I knew they did not know he would react that way, but it did not help the embarrassment I felt when the women asked my husband if he thought my dress suited me and he replied 'pretty for a squirrel'.
"I wanted to tell you that I... I still very much wish to be the one to speak to the people about their concerns," I am unable to look at him when I say this, "it is not because I think you are unfit for the task, my lord, but I have seen the way you act around them."
"Like a dog?"
I knit my brows deeply and look to him, "Daisy is a dog. And I love her very much."
"That makes one of us."
We stare at each other for a long, blistering moment. My throat constricts at his words, "... Sandor."
His face contorts. He scoffs and averts his gaze, "don't say my name like that."
My heart begins to race, it twists and clenches. I step forward and reach out to him, "I see how you try to listen, how you try to help, but it scares you-"
I gasp when he rips his arm away before I can even touch him. He grabs me instead though, ripping me close as he leans down, "I'm not scared of peasants."
My eyes water. It's not even because his grip hurt, but because it was as painfully clear as it could get that this man did not like me at all, no matter what I did.
The Hound mutters softly, "do what you wish," he releases my arm, "you want to do my work so badly then? Fine. I didn't want ya to do anything you're not meant to, but have it your way."
I scratch my eyes before my tears could fall. I try to look at him as I speak, but the tears threaten to fall when I do. Instead, I fix my eyes on the floor, "I do not do this to upset you, Hound. I do this because I mean to help you. I swear it."
He is deeply disturbed by the softness in which these words are spoken. Hearing himself be called Hound was unreasonably heart piercing.
"I do not like it when you are angry," I whisper, "it would have been fine if it was only directed at me, but you spur everyone around you."
I flinch when he calls my name.
I shake my head, "if it pleases you, lord, I will do as you said the other day. I will no longer speak to you. I will not bother you. I will not stand in your way." I step back and pick at my fingernails.
Sandor holds back from stepping forward.
"Maester Yannick has been giving me herbs to help with conception, but he said that I should be in good spirits when... consummating... I do not think we should do anything tonight--" I look to him through my wet lashes, "unless you want to--"
"No, I do not," he says coldly.
I gulp. Tears begin to stream down my face. My lips quiver. I shudder. Of course he doesn't want me.
I curtsy and walk off. I break into a sprint after a few steps, as I am no longer able to hold in my sobs.
Sandor watches this. He furrows his brows, unnerved by the interaction, gutted by the fact it ended in tears yet again. He replays the conversation. Was his touch truly that hard? He looks at his hand. He curses loudly and storms off to fuck all.
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Sandor wakes before the sky does. He opens his heavy lids and sighs. He turns to his right on instinct; he watches his wife stretch out her arms in the expanse of nothingness between them. He likes to think that she is reaching out to him. He likes to think that if he reaches back, it'll make everything fine between them.
But then again, it had never been fine between them in the first place.
He makes sure not to touch or move her. Last time he did, she woke up. She truly was a light sleeper.
He slowly gets up. He quickly gets dressed. The moment he gets out of the room, he heads to his office.
He's finished his work by the time he hears a dog barking. He looks to the window, the sun looks back at him. He stands, stretches, and walks over to the sill, pushing the curtains open. He sees her, Lady Clegane, cuddling the mutt she named Daisy. Fucking Daisy. Polly, the stable boy was waving a stick, but the bitch could not care less about it, too preoccupied by her master.
He watches Daisy lick her neck. He watches how she scolds the dog for it but giggles anyway. Sandor sniffles. His mind wanders to the one time he had his face pressed on her neck like that. Fucking dog.
He watches the pair go inside. The Hound heads to the dining room promptly after.
He mutters to himself, trying to decide how to start, "I don't meant to make you cry-- I keep making you cry-- Fuck-- .... I know you don't like me," he stops in his tracks before he can get to his destination. He mutters to himself some more.
Fuck it.
He hears the telltale patter of Daisy's paws. It makes his fingers tingle.
When he gets to the dining room, he furrows his brows at the emptiness.
Lucy gasps at the sight of him. She topples back then regains her composure. She puts the plate of food she was holding down on the table with a bang. She looks at him and curtsies, "your food, milord."
"Where is she?"
Lucy's glare darkens, "she is dining with the servants."
He chuckles drily. He feels disappointment. He feels hurt. He immediately plays it off, "pretty squirrel's finally had enough of me."
"WILL YOU STOP CALLING 'ER THAT!" Lucy bursts, taking the Hound off-guard.
They both stare at each other, as if equally as shocked by the outburst.
Lucy fumes. Sandor freezes. The former decides she's already spoken, so she might as well continue, "she is a lady! You took her for this," she motions vaguely. "You need her," she speaks firmly, "just as much as she needs you."
The Hound scoffs. His insides burn and curdle at the idea of the little girl needing a beast to keep her safe. He snaps, "well, go ahead and tell her I will gladly be her hound and breed her little monsters as thanks for her nice, warm castle!"
Lucy makes no attempt to hide the revulsion she feels at the sound of the hound's words.
"You know what," he snarls, "why don't I breed her right now as a thank you?"
Lucy's face drops. She runs up to the Hound when he begins to storm off. She crumples like paper when he shoves her away. He doesn't do it hard enough that she shoots off to the table, but it's enough for her to get the message: he was deadly strong.
Lucy does her best to stop him. She cries and begs and screams. She digs her heels into floor and yanks him back but it doesn't do much, it doesn't do anything.
The Hound only stops when he finally sees her.
Lady Clegane is laughing with the servants as they watch Daisy roll on her belly for food. She feeds the dog just as Lucy runs up in front of him, severely distraught and tear stained. Lucy pushes her hands on his chest and begs him to punish her instead.
The Hound is sickened when Daisy runs up to him and whines. He recoils his hand when the bitch licks it.
"Lucy?"
Sandor flinches at the sound of his wife's voice and turns the other way.
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I was in the middle of playing fetch with Daisy when she caught wind of something and ran off to the gate. Usually, this meant Sandor was home. Lo and behold, this moment was not any different.
I turn away immediately when we lock gazes.
The Hound had a large cut of meat on his shoulder. He grunts as Daisy barks and runs up to him, "fuck off, bitch."
He does his best to avoid the dog, nudging her away firmly with his leg as he walks up to a wagon and plops the hind of a cow on there. He hisses at Daisy when she gets on her two back legs and rests one good leg and bad one on his hips.
"Daisy!" I call.
She ignores me.
Sandor looks over his shoulder, "your mam's calling you, dog. Go on!"
Daisy clearly doesn't understand, or doesn't care, and barks at Sandor when he shoves her away. 
"Daisy!" I call and jog up to her when she follows Sandor out of the estate. I run up to the gate and watch as she is chased by the Hound. She runs as fast as her three paws will allow, clearly enjoying what she thought to be a game.
"Come here, you stupid bitch!" the Hound screams.
I turn to one of the men near me. I call Arron over and tell him to tell the Hound not to chase after her. He does just that, "milord! She will stop running if you stop chasing!"
I make a face as Lord Clegane curses and does his final attempt at catching the dog.
"Shall I bait Daisy with some meat, milady?" Arron asks.
I am about to respond but then there is a loud shriek from afar. It makes my blood go still.
The Hound immediately stops, straightens up, and looks at the distance.
I turn to Arron in a panic and tell him to get bait for Daisy. He quickly does that and calls for the dog to come back.
A bunch of peasants run and scream towards the estate; they scream milord.
Sandor goes to them.
When he reaches the panicked townspeople, he tells them all to shut the fuck up and explain what's happening. The old one clamours out that her daughter's been taken, says she was herding the cows then she was suddenly screaming, and he tried to reach her but it was too late. He says his son went to the woods to try and save her sister.
The Hound nods. He easily decides to go into the woods. The man's other son to leads the way.
In truth, the boy didn't have to go with him, he could just head to where the animals were fleeing, but he allowed it because he recognized the boy to be one of the ones in training. He has no idea what his name was though.
He was glad to hear the screams when he did, at least the ones that sounded human.
The Hound sees a lad and a lass running up to him, "RUN WHILE IT'S DISTRACTED!"
The boy by his side screams back, "the Hound is here! He's going to kill it!"
Well, Sandor was only meant to save the girl, and now that the girl was about to run past him, he didn't have to do anything, really. For some reason, he felt compelled to press on. Maybe it was the lack of his sense of self-preservation as of late, or no, don't call it that; it was his need for a distraction, his need prove something.
He sees it, the monster and its fresh kill. It must have been one of the girl's cows, or at least what was left of it. Gods, the abomination was a messy eater. He was glad, at least, it seemed to be starved and solely focused on eating.
His boots stomp into a puddle of blood when he charges at the thing and cuts its head off. That's was quick... and simple...
He's shocked when he hears a hellish scream behind him and gets knocked into a tree.
The Hound is dazed. He hears the battle cry of two voices. He watches the brothers do their best to stab at the thing that towers and claws at them. He promptly gets on his feet and charges at the disgusting fuck, managing to chop off its arm before it chops off the boy's head.
Just as he thinks he's about to get the upper hand, another vile beast pops up from the shadows. He fixes his footing and slashes his sword for his life.
One of the boys get injured. The boy's scream attract the monsters towards him, allowing the Hound to stab through one of them when it's attention is averted.
By the time one of the two vile cretins drop to the ground, the two boys are running for their lives with one monster on their tail. The Hound is forced to chase after them and curses the boys for running. He's not as quick as he was before.
He screams and grabs a rock, chucking it at the slimy tar creature. He throws and shouts some more until the monster is turned back and running towards him.
He slashes the stupid fuck with his sword when its close enough. It still picks a fight though.
He's losing his breath.
The next thing he knows, there's another monster screaming from behind him. The Hound prepares for the one behind him, but it doesn't reach him because its busy ripping something off it with a growl. It chucks something to the side. There is a separate whine that hisses with the wind.
The Hound finally kills the first monster that attacked him. It doesn't take much for him to kill the other as its belly was already gushing with viscous blood.
Once he's the only thing alive and standing, catches his breath and curses. He looks upon the fallen black creatures before him and reckons he ought to get out there before more come out.
But then he hears a rustle to his side. He immediately goes on the defensive and readies for another fight.
He follows the sound of heavy breathing.
His face drops when he hears the way the dog whines when he's spotted.
The Hound sheathes his sword and drops to his knees. He looks at Daisy, her one front paw bent, the other one not. Her hind legs were twisted unnaturally, her side was clawed. She was soaking in red, both hers and otherwise. She was panting and quickly losing blood.
Sandor reaches out to her. Her eyes were wide and teary. She leans into Sandor's touch and licks her nose in a panic.
He begins to feel a rage burn in him. He begins to feel loathe. He whisper-yells, "you stupid dog. You should have stayed home."
Daisy's breath quickens. He realizes see that she is trying not to whine. Gods, the pain she must be in.
He is about to tell her she was stupid for doing that, he is about to tell her she didn't need her help, he is about to tell her she was so fearless for no reason, but then Daisy whines. It was the most horrible thing he's ever heard.
Sandor huffs like he had been stabbed. He grips his hilt tightly, "thank you for saving me, Daisy."
Sandor screws his eyes shut and decides on what he has to do.
He draws his sword. Daisy does not flinch when he presses the sword onto her neck. He thinks about the day they'd first met. 
Fearless.
He strokes her face with his hand once. He screws his eyes shut when he feels her shiver. 
So afraid.
"You're a good dog."
His next stroke pulls Daisy's final breath.
The Hound stands. He looks upon his dog.
He screams.
He screams.
He screams, hell-bent on summoning more monsters. He kills three more stupid fuck, particularly enjoying how he butchered killing a young one.
He takes Daisy's body after. She is rigid against his chest when he reaches the village. He barks out an order to the villagers: burn those fucking monsters he killed. They were more than happy to oblige.
He passes the family he had helped. They are about to come up to thank him but they don't when they see what was in his arms.
He is swarmed with dread with what he is faced with when he reaches the estate. It was very clearly as search party for Daisy.
"SANDOR!" I cry out when I spot him from the distance. "DID YOU SEE DAISY WHEN-" I stop myself when I realize he is covered in blood. Suddenly, I feel awful for not asking him if he was injured before anything else.
His form becomes clearer as I jog up to him and call, "ARE YOU AL-"
I stop in my tracks when I see him adjust something in his arms. I knit my brows and continue walking towards him. Was it a head of a monster? Why was it brownish and not black?
The Hound gives me a solemn look as he inches closer. I furrow my brows at his expression.
It takes a second then suddenly, it clicks.
I let out a horrified cry.
The Hound buries Daisy in the garden himself. Everyone in Brown Wood watches. I force a glance at my poor dog, even though I wanted to do nothing but turn away. Her injuries chill me to the bone. Lucy stands beside me, clutching my arm as she weeps, but does not look at Daisy once.
Maester Yannick speaks some words for her, as per my request, before Sandor covers the grave.
Once it was done, maester Yannick comes to me and says he will plant daisies at her grave come morrow. I cannot find solace, I cannot find myself to care.
"Did you have to slit her throat?!" I demand lowly, voice aching and angry. I eye the Hound with hot contempt and cynicism, "was there REALLY no saving her?!"
"My lady," the maester holds me back, "I saw her body. Lord Clegane showed her mercy."
"Did you enjoy executing your mercy?!" I wail, ripping my arms away from Lucy and Yannick. My gaze does not trail to them at all, as I am intent on getting answers from my dog's executioner.
The Hound's face is blank, it enrages me.
I snarl through tears, "gods, I hope you did! I hope you savored finally being free of your bitch!"
Lucy calls after me as when I storm away. She means to run after me but shoots a glare at the Hound before doing so. She is momentarily stunned when he sees how distraught he looks at the moment. 
Sandor marches out of the estate.
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I jolt awake when I hear the front door opening. I wipe my face and quickly stand from the chair in the middle of the living space. The fireplace near me had already burned out.
After the sound of locks disappear in the darkness, I take the unlit candle on the table beside me and walk up to the burning candelabra to light it.
I hear heavy footsteps draw closer.
Boots skid, "fuck."
I look up after lighting my candle. The Hound looks back at me.
"What are you doing?"
I purse my lips and turn to my feet. I clutch my candle, finding it hard to speak. 
"Lucy kick you out of her bed?" he mutters then begins to walk off.
I look up and follow after him. I finally muster out, "you arrive later and later."
He scoffs.
"It's been five days. I fear you'll not return by the tenth."
I pull my head back and stop in my tracks just as the Hound turns and chuckles, "don't worry, little girl. I like the wages of a Lord. Your hound isn't running."
"I know you're not running!" I snap, "I wonder why you think so poorly of yourself!"
"I think poorly of myself?" he hisses and points to his chest.
"Yes!" I bark and push myself up on my tiptoes to prove a point, "and since you are so keen to put words in my mouth, I hope you shove all the fucking pie the unwitting peasants gave you down your blasted throat!"
The Hound is shocked by my profanity. His face slips into confusion.
I heave and pull back, intent on walking away. And I do. I should have never waited for him.
"What fucking pie?"
I snap and turn back at him, "the one you could have eaten fresh had you spared a moment this morning before leaving for a monster hunt!"
Sandor is wholeheartedly confused.
I am aggravated by his expression. I wave my hands, unintentionally putting out the flame of my candle, "they love you, Hound! They're thankful and grateful!"
Though it was darker now, I see his face pinch in to a sort of disgusted disbelief. The sight infuriates me, it squeezes my heart, it pricks me frustration. I wipe my face and repeat the words that were spoken to me, "tell Lord Clegane that without him my children would be dead. Tell Lord Clegane that he has saved me family from hunger. Tell Lord Clegane that me, and my sons, and my sheep are happy to-"
"I didn't do it for them," Sandor cuts me off with a hand raise.
I purse my lips and slowly pull my head back at his words.
He lowers his hand and eyes me for a moment. I see how his gaze drinks my figure. He clenches his jaw and looks away, "you should be asleep."
My jaw slacks.
I wait for him to look at me. I wait for him to ask if I was going to sleep with Lucy again. I wait for him to apologize for keeping me up worrying. I wait for him to bring up Daisy. I wait him to do something, but he doesn't.
My eyes water, "my lo-"
"Good night," he dismisses and turns around to walk away.
"Aren't you-" my voice cracks, "-going to ask me to go to bed with you?"
He stops in his tracks. He does not look back, "do you want me to?"
I furrow my brows deeply. I feel like I was drowning. I let out a shaky breath and wrap my arms around myself. I shake my head and turn away. I chuckle dryly, "forgive me for even asking."
Sandor turns back, jaw hanging, hands clenched. He does nothing but watch.
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"Do you know what's going to happen now, little girl?"
"Yes."
"What's going to happen?"
"You're going to fuck me."
Sandor laughs lowly, placing his hands on my cheeks. He swipes his thumb on my lips, "filthy mouth."
He kisses me deeply.
"Tell me honest," he mutters through kisses, "have you ever done this before?" he speaks as his hands paw at my sides, "I would not judge you if you did."
I squeak when he touches me between my thighs.
He draws out a deep breath, "no, of course you haven't; you're a good girl."
I gasp at the sound of thunder. I jolt up from my bed-- I turn to my side, seeing a sleeping Lucy's form-- or I mean, Lucy's bed. I look for Daisy in the room as I slowly push the blankets off me. I still when I realize she wasn't here.
I huff and wipe my face. I try to push away the thoughts of Daisy out of my head. I try not to think of her so much because I end up melancholy and furious. I, instead, find myself drifting to the dream I just had-- been having.
The mind can be so treacherous. I nibble my lower lip and rub my belly.
I tried, you know. I went to the Hound the morning after we fought about his coming home late. I tried to make peace with him. I tried to persuade him. I tried to kiss him.
I gasp again when another crack of thunder echoes through the room.
He wasn't having it though. He pushed me away and told me it was wrong, that we shouldn't be doing that. He left the estate shortly after. He hasn't been home since.
I get out of bed and light a candle for myself. I walk to my bedroom and light any of the candles that went off on my way. I wrap my arms around myself and rub my skin. I open the door to room as softly as possible, though it didn't really matter in the end because it was pouring outside and the noise wouldn't be loud.
With a barely audible creak, the door opens.
And it was also empty.
I sigh at the made bed. I walk towards it and smoothen out the already smooth sheets. I decide to get dressed for the day.
I head to the office, which as empty as the bedroom. I light the candles there.
I sit down on the desk and go through the papers, the letters of requests, the list of complaints, the finances, the works. I rub my eyes, willing my sleep away. I look out my window, seeing barely any hint of sun through the dark clouds.
I don't know how exactly how much time passed between then and when Arron burst in, but it must have been a while, considering how nice it felt to stand after hearing him shout, "HE'S HOME, MILADY!"
I immediately blow out the candles as Arron tells me the Hound was in the living area. I thank him for telling me, gather my skirts, and jog out of the room.
I cannot hear the click of my heels over the sound of the persisting rain-- the persisting storm.
I stop in my tracks when I see a trail of water in the corridor that led to my bedroom.
A crack of lightning bolts through the sky when I walk in and ask "where have you been?!"
The Hound is dripping in rain water. He has his back turned to me. He is undoing his armor.
I clench my fists and storm up to him. I circle in front of him the same time he walks towards the closet. He stops there, still undoing his armor, back turned to me again.
I scowl, "Hound! I'm speaking to you!"
He looks over his shoulder, the one he was trying to undo, "what? I can't hear you over the rain."
I burn hot with anger and march up to him, "I asked where you've been!"
The Hound looks down at me. He releases the grip on his shoulder, "does it matter where I've been?"
"Yes!" I snap, "you haven't come home in 7 days."
He scoffs, "thrilling to know you've been counting," he points to the window, "well, as you can see, it's fucking storming."
"It wasn't storming the day you left," I hiss.
"Well, it was when I decided to come to my beautiful wife," he leans down and jeers.
I knit my brows at him and pull back when I smell the alcohol in his breath.
He takes my chin between his fingers, "come on give us a smile."
I pull away from him, heart racing, chin burning, even though his touch got my skin damp with rain water.
The Hound straightens up and undoes his armor again.
I step away from him, "Job said he saw you in the next town over."
"Who the fuck is Job?" he asks, not bothering to look at me.
"Polly's father."
"The stable boy?" he turns to me.
"Yes," I hiss and I feel anger build up in me.
He says nothing.
I nearly choke when I say the next words, "he said he saw you coming out of brothel."
The Hound stills. He drops his hands to the side.
Both of us just stand there for a moment. The rain seems to intensify, and so does the tension between us.
"Tell me the truth," I mutter, "do you-"
"It was the town with the fucking unavailable inn," he shifts in his spot to turn to me, "I went to the brothel instead and paid for lodging there."
I purse my lips at his words. That was not what I was going to ask him. I battle with myself, trying to find the words I want to say. I revise my words over and over again in my head. There were so many things I wanted to say, yet so little ways to make it easy to speak out.
I shake my head, "am I very hard to want?"
Sandor feels rain water drip from his fingers.
I don't know how I feel about the bewildered and perplexed expression that spreads across his face. I do know one thing at least, I feel too exhausted to cry.
I sigh and shrug, "I am no fool, Hound. I learned through the gossip of my maids and my aunts growing up that men are simply like... this. It is their nature to stray. Of course, I hoped different for myself, but we cannot have it all, can we?"
"But I didn't do anything," he snaps. He deflates, "I swear by the gods, old and new."
I press my lips into a tight smile. I slowly walk up to him. He watches me intently. I hear his breath hitch when I begin to undo his armor for him. I half expect him to make me stop. He doesn't.
Sandor steps forward. There's barely any space between us anymore. His heart is racing. His hands itch to touch. He releases a breath when his hand comes to my side.
My stomach swirls at the feel of his palm but I do nothing. Neither do I look at him when I mutter, "maybe you should."
Sandor watches me remove his armor. He furrow his brows and whispers, "what?"
I drop the steel plate to the ground with a clank. It is loud even with the sound of pouring rain.
He doesn't like it when he receives no reply. He takes my wrist. I stop my task. His hand is warm albeit the dampness, and so very gentle. 
I finally look up at him.
He leans closer and speaks louder. He shakes his head and furrows his brows, "what did you say, pretty squirrel?"
I raise my brows, "maybe you should."
"Should what?"
"Do something in the brothels."
His face falls. We stare at each other for a moment. He is clearly in disbelief.
I pull my hand out of his grip. He almost doesn't let me.
"It's not a trick, I swear it."
"What are you saying?" he shakes his head faster and finds himself playing on the offensive, "you want me to be with someone else?!"
"I want a baby," I mutter.
Sandor's face falls again, but then it twists. It is unbearable to look at.
"Find a woman you desire," I turn away from him, "and give her your seed. You may keep her here if you like, and I will let her take care of the babe, but the babe will be mine."
His lips part.
"You're right. I don't want the memory of my family to be tainted by monstrosity-"
He shakes his head once more.
"-and I am the last of my line. My line lives on with House Clegane. People remember names, not blood."
He takes my hand, "I desire you."
I cannot help it. I begin to cry because of that. I break into both tears and laughter, "you needn't shield my heart, Sandor."
Sandor's stomach drops, both at the fact his own words have been used against him and with how his name was spoken.
I place a hand on his cheek.
His knees go weak.
"We've both hurt enough," I smile, "I know you think otherwise, but I'm not a little girl. I know sometimes winning means admitting defeat when the loss is great."
He grabs both my wrists when I try to pull away. I gasp when he does so. He holds me for a second then releases my wrists to capture my cheeks instead. He wipes my tears with his thumbs. He swipes my lips, "I love you."
I screw my eyes shut and cling onto his forearm. I let out another laugh, "I don't think you hurt people that you love, my lord."
The Hound is pierced through his armor.
He doesn't put up a fight when I pull his hands off me.
I continue to undo his armor. He doesn't move an inch.
"Will you sleep with me tonight?" he whispers. The sound of the rain is too loud that only him and the gods heard it.
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Sandor had been out of it ever since his pretty squirrel ate his insides. He was thick faced, literally and figuratively; he's learned to take pride in it, to find solace in the fact all the years of flesh ripping torture-- figuratively and literally, had made him indifferent to what people think, made him apathetic, numb.
And yet her smile that day was worse than a sword through the spleen. Her disbelief in his words-- because she was right, you don't hurt people you love-- was heart wrenching, blood draining.
What do you say to that? How do you fix that?
You don't.
He knows you don't. You can't fix something like that.
And since this truth has dawned on him, since this truth has slit his throat, he's been a headless, mindless fucker. He was a dead man walking, and one more unwitting monster attack away from making it real.
"MILORD!" Carter cries, raising his sword to hack at the monster who managed to swipe his lately-been-aloof Lord Clegane.
The boy is fired up; his blood is pumping enough to enable him to cut the black demon's arm off and sequentially pierce it through its heart. Carter does it with a scream and regrets it a moment later; after all, they were in the middle of the woods.
They have to get out of here.
Sandor makes a pained noise. He feels heat surge down his arm and cold shiver up his spine.
"YOU'RE BLEEDING!" Carter gasps, mortified that his lord's armor was scraped off his back. The boy realizes suddenly that his Lord, the fearsome Hound, was not invincible. This newfound truth rips into his ribs the way, he thinks, the monsters would.
The boy immediately takes the Hound in his arms, though it wasn't like he could actually carry him if he wanted. Sandor steadies himself on the boy; Carter struggles even with that task. 
Still, the smaller manages to support his Lord out of the woods.
The next thing Sandor knows, he's screaming and thrashing. He vaguely hears the sound of footsteps skidding away from him.
"What's happening, Maester Yannick?!"
A deep sigh, "he probably feels the pain now."
Sandor realizes he's sat down on a stool, leaned against a table, or at least he was before he started flailing his arms around. He lets out a guttural cry as he pushes himself up. He realizes he's in the ward, being attended by the maester, and his wife was present and very troubled.
"My lord!" Yannick exclaims, raising his hands in both surrender and an attempt to soothe, "it's alright. I have stitched your wounds closed. Do not tear them open "
Sandor huffs through his nostrils. He turns to his side when he hears the soft way his name was spoken. Lady Clegane walks closer, hand wanting to reach out to him. He almost reaches back but then she digs her nails into her palms.
He sinks into the stool and watches her look at him. Her eyes are glassy. Why are they always glassy?
"My lord," Yannick walks towards him, "I'm going to wrap your wounds now."
Sandor huffs in agreement, or more accurately, acknowledgement. His eyes are still fixed on her though. He watches her hover around him, evidently unsure about approaching him.
He wants to reach out to her. He wants to touch her, to soothe her so, so badly.
He's shocked when she decides to take his hand and whispers, "shall I get you milk of the poppy?" 
Sandor looks up at her. Her voice was shaky and he hates how worried it sounded, how desperate. He hates how her eyes were constantly red. He knits his brows, "no."
She hisses, "are you certain? Your gashes are deep. No one in the world would fault you for wanting something to relieve the pain."
"I want to feel it," he mutters, "I want to feel."
She looks between the two of them in a panic, "but you've lost so much blood--"
"Perhaps," Yannick interrupts firmly. He starts binding his wounds, "he wants to feel precisely because he's light headed after losing blood."
Sandor straightens up slowly as he is instructed to. His attention is solely focused on the sensation on his hand though, on how the jittery squirrel was rubbing her soft fingers on his calloused skin.
She persists with this action until his chest and back is bound, she persists until Maester Yannick leaves the room, she persists until, next moment, she drops on her knees beside him. The Hound reacts in an instant.
He gets on the floor beside her, uncaring how it hurt his back, and clutches her face. He calls her name in horror.
"Are you punishing me?" she whispers as water in her eyes threaten to spill.
Sandor knits his brows deeply. He can't speak. He's too afraid to. Everything he's said up until that point has done nothing but rip them both apart. He was a hound after all.
"Are you trying to kill yourself to get back at me?" she mutters, distressed, pained, and defeated.
His face contorts even more. He hesitates but then shakes his head, "no."
"The boy said you've been acting differently as of late!" she grabs his wrists, "ever since I told you what I wanted from you."
His lips twitch. He looks away.
She tightens her grip, "please."
He is suddenly so acutely aware of his injuries. The pain throbs all the way through his heart.
"Please," she begs softly, "just tell me what you want from me-"
"Everything."
The way he responded was quick, as if it was practiced, as if it was reflex.
He avoids her gaze. He takes a deep breath. He waits for a response he somehow knows will never come.
When he turns to her, he notices how her face dropped. Gods, Sandor. Get it together.
"I want-" he starts but cannot continue because of how guilty he feels over the sight of her wobbling lip.
Sandor's hands loosen. They melt from her cheeks, down her shoulders. He grips the area, as if she was water about to slip through his fingers. He releases a breath, and with it, it seems, his thoughts escape. He mutters somethings that mean nothing. She doesn't understand anything.
She whimpers, "I have nothing left to give; you already have it all."
The Hound freezes when his cheek is touched, when his scar is touched. It's like it's being burned all over again.
"Is there something I can give you now?" she huffs uneasily.
He sighs. He feels the wounds throbbing; he feels his head pounding, "no."
"Then will you let me go now?" 
No. No, no, no, no-
"Or, please, at least loosen your grip."
Immediately, Sandor releases her shoulders. She sequentially lets out a breath and rubs the area. There is an imprint on the area of her exposed skin.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck-
"Do you want me to stay?"
Yes. "Do you want to stay?"
"I had planned to finish some errands before going to bed."
Sandor averts his gaze then slowly crawls back to his stool, "then leave."
It almost hurts as much as his cuts how quickly she stands. She looks down at him, "I will leave you to your solidarity."
Please don't go.
"I will tell Maester Yannick to come back to attend to you, Hound."
Hound. It sounds like shattering glass.
Sandor listens to the click of her heels as she leaves him.
834 notes · View notes
ryzl · 2 years
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imagine a yandere! florist 🌷
yandere! florist who is tired of his every day life. it is a never ending cycle
that is until . . . . . he saw YOU ♡
yandere! florist who, at first, doesn't care. he just saw you as a normal person (with unreal beauty, might i add) who just happens to always visit the bookstore in front of the flower shop he works on
yandere! florist who starts to see you frequently, and couldn't help but get curious as to why you always visit the bookstore in front of the shop.
i mean, could you at least go to HIS shop? pretty please? 😩
yandere! florist who couldn't help but feel overjoyed when you actually went to his shop. hooray for him
saying you ordered for a bouquet of ROSES. hmmm red?
i wonder who is it for ? your lover maybe? oh no that shouldn't be possible. you are his.
so when yandere! florist asked who's it for, you should answer honestly, alright? SO WHO'S IT FOR?
oh? what you've ordered was wrong? whew, you almost gave him a heart attack darling :3
it's actually WHITE ROSES, for a family member ig???
yandere! florist who prepared the bouquet for you (lmao expect his number on a seperate card inside the bouquet)
yandere! florist who told you to come anytime :> you are always welcome here 🥳
yandere! florist who starts to stalk you on the daily. :))
no problem with that right??? yeah, thought so too.
yandere! florist who figured out where you live !!!!
you can expect random flowers that are associated with "romantic love" by your door step :> you're welcome, my dearest.
oh love, it's very fun seeing you look around for whoever the flowers are from. you look so cute :3 he wanna squish you :>
yandere! florist who (finally) mustered up enough courage to actually give the flowers to you. FACE TO FACE 🙀
like omg can this even get any more creepier ROMANTIC?
yandere! florist who did his very best to pour all his affection to you :>
in short, he's proving to you that he's hubby material 🥰🥰🥰
yandere! florist who has vendetta against the librarian
yes he considers that librarian his rival when it comes to winning your love ♡
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to anyone who wants to add anything in here, feel free to do so :>
yeah this is so rushed >:D anyways, i would like to thank everyone for supporting my mini writings :3 (love lots)
and btw mga dude, there will be a yandere! librarian next. ay na'spill. keme keme keme :3 see you next time guys
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shhuuga · 6 months
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PARTITION — HAN JISUNG AND LEE MINHO.
warnins ; double penetration (fingering),reader is spanish speaking and is described as brown skinned, mean minho:((, consensual slapping, also double penetration again (suckin n fuckin) LMAO im having too mucvfun wid dis
sum up ; driver, roll up the partition please? ion need u seein y/n on ha knees.. yah anyways u minho and jisung fuckin in da back after an event spoiler alert! y'all ain't making it to da club 😔🙏🏾
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"y/n! over here, please!" the cameras are flashing all around you as you walk through the crowd of paparazzi, just trying to get to the limousine where jisung was already sitting on his far left seat that he was sitting in on the way to this event.
you just tried to remember the advice minho had given you before pushing the doors open and walking into the sea of photographers; "don't stop moving." keyword here being, you tried.
thinking you were close enough to the car to give a few smiles, you slowed your stride just by a bit before looking up at all the cameras surrounding you, the flash being a bit harsh on your eyes. then, unexpectedly, minho bumped into your back, or rather, his boner did.
he sucked in a tight breath, hoping nobody noticed your surprised face or his less than excited one as you scurried into the car to save yourself from embarrassment. he nods with a curt smile, sauntering to the car a bit stiffly due to his hard on before slipping into the back seat and sulking into it.
"driver, roll up the partition please?" your voice is smooth as you lean slightly forward to practically whisper in your driver's ear. he doesn't take his eyes off the road, nodding his head as the thick plate starts to cover the space between the back and front seats.
you assume your previous position, this time reaching your manicured hand to minho's crotch. his hand covers yours, gripping it before moving it to where his tip resides. then it's han's turn, he makes the slightest surprised sound at your cool hand settling on his warm dick through his pants, feeling blood starting to rush to it.
"you–" minho started, taking his hand to your thigh and starting to slide it upward, "need to learn how to listen. do you know how much trouble we could've been in because of your little stunt? hmm?"
of course you do, and you could spew a hundred and one excuses about how you really didn't mean to and you weren't trying to make minho angry, but you knew it was always gonna end the same. with you, minho and han notably missing from the club after this event.
a soft sting is landed on your cheek, it doesn't even make your head turn. just enough to get your attention. and it does, well, the sting and jisung starting to reach his hand under your dress as well.
"i think she knows, hyung. but maybe she needs to be reminded." han's lips hover over your neck, whispering in your ear to make sure that you're alright with this. you nod, albeit nervously nd it takes just that much for your panties to get pulled to your knees.
han takes his lips to your neck, meanwhile minho uses his large arm and hooks it around your torso, pulling you into the "eiffel tower" position (on your knees facing minho basically) then minho reaches to feel your pussy, your warm slick greeting him in return.
"fuck, aren't you just filthy? so wet, 'nd spreading your legs like a fuckin' whore." minho dips his fingers into your cunt and curls them upwards, immediately finding that spot and making you keel backwards into han, who took this opportunity to coax your mouth open to he could rest two of his long fingers in your throat.
every time minho pushes his fingers against your g-spot, you choke on han's fingers and spit starts to dribble down your chin, taking some of your lipstick with it. finally, jisung takes his fingers out of your mouth and circles your tighter hole with his spit covered fingers before pushing them in slowly.
"ay, mierda.. oh fuck..!" your hips jerk forward, giving minho more access to your pussy. he pushes his fingers impossibly deeper, both him and jisung knuckle deep into you.
they pump their fingers in unison, watching you whine and hold on to the leather seats to stop yourself from keening into them. your eyes that were shut in pleasure jut open as you hear han whimpering behind you. his hand is tight around his cock as he breathes in your scent, kissing your neck with fervour.
minho starts to reach his hand under his pants as well, "come here, baby. show me you know how to listen." he pulls softly at your neck, which makes you arch your back and both men pull their fingers out of you.
you get down and put minho's dick in your mouth, his large hand pushing you down to the hilt. there's some shuffling behind you before you feel jisung stretching your pussy with his fat cock, the moan coming from deep in your throat making minho throw his head back.
it's like a scene from a porno. you're sucking minho off, making sure to breathe through your nose so his cock can glide down your throat with ease, meanwhile han is behind you, fucking you good. minho's watching (and listening), every time jisung pushed himself into you a whimper was given in response. your mascara starts smudging, and you feel minho reach and wipe the tears from your eyes. smiling at you almost condescendingly.
"hah, fuck, hyung.. shit, she's so fuckin' tight..i don't think i can hold off for too long.. fuck!" jisung warns as he starts to speed up, making you head move faster on minho's cock. all three of you were close, you could tell.
"she'll let you cum in her, won't you baby? it'll be compensation for your little stunt earlier.." you completely forgot that's why you were in this mess, but now you're glad you did. you nod, which makes minho groan and start to push your head down and pull it back up however he liked, your brain starting to cloud up.
it's too much, it's not enough. jisung's thumb on your clit and the opposite being in your ass makes you wanna pull away and sink into him at the same time, minho is squeezing your airway with his cock and the fast movements make you feel like you're on a roller coaster. the warmth in your belly bubbles over as both them men on top of you cum and watch in marvel as you squirt and cover han's abdomen.
all of you sulk, jisung pulling out and minho lifting your head off his cock so they can messily redress you. it's the best they can do for you makeup being smudged and rubbed every which way, you pupils being dilated and your legs shaking. you take a deep breath as a window is rolled down, taking the hot, steamy smell of sex and perfume and replacing it with cool, salty air that makes your lungs expand as your eyes close on minho's exposed chest. you take another breath, and fall asleep.
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floridazcrazy · 1 month
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F1 drivers as american high schoolers
Lando Norris
Absolute Nic fiend
Underclassmen thats friends w/ all the seniors/year 12s
Kid that stays yelling "HES GOTTA GUN" smh
Loud af 24/7 365
Female teachers buy him and his friends food iykwim
Snap score in the millions (wyll warrior)
Asks to use the bathroom and doesn't come back
Chronic Virginity rocks hoodie wearer
plays lacrosse ofc
Illegally parks in the senior parking lot (probs got his shit towed a few times lol)
"Need me a goth gf"
D1 fight recorder
Nearly got his ass jumped during a football game lmao
Carlos Sainz
Took spanish all 4 years for an easy A
Ran through but still calls girls bops (6mill snap score)
niche tiktok celeb from posting thirstraps
P.E tryhard "ARE YOU FUCKING SLOW CATCH THE BALL"
Always has ISS or saturday school from skipping classes
Practically lives in a nike tech
Hoco king
Him and Lando have joint custody over a shiesty
girls get into fights over him at 6:45 am during breakfast
Buzzballs are NOT safe near his ass
Hes a lettermen (shirtless dudes who have their chests painted individually with a letter to spell the schools nickname during football games, found in the front row waving the school flag)
follows livvy Dunne, Breckie hill etc... on his ig and denies it when his gf confronts him about it
George
IB kid (just wait till that burnout hits lmao)
Dual enrollment king
"I took Algebra in 6th grade" nobody gaf lil bro
Ppl think him and Alex are dating
In NHS and MUN
"Mrs you forgot to pick up the ho-"
Probs got jumped for snitching at one point or another lol
The guy who pregamed too hard b4 hoco and prom then threw up everywhere (this happened at my prom bruh)
DO NOT LET HIS ASS NEAR PINK WITNEY LMAO
Probs going to Fsu or ucf on a fullride scholarship
Gets posted doing some embarassing shit on his schools barstool page smh
Almost ran over a underclassman (Lando) while trying to do donuts in the parking lot
Alex Albon
"Ay my friend over there thinks youre cute" (the friend is George)
Does not not deny that hes dating George if asked
Him and Lando stay screaming in the football game student section
Teachers love him
Got posted on the school's confession page once
In danger of not graduating due to his absences
Surprisingly takes multiple ap classes
Plays water polo
"Man this school food fucking dogwater"
Will later be seen fucking up said school food like always
Helps vandalize the rival school during football season w/ yuki and Pierre (This shit ends up on the news lmao)
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spid3namy · 11 months
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— DIFFERENT UNIVERSE PT.1
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pairing : e!42 miles x mixed!female reader
summary : miles was being weird, not how he usually acted. he somehow found himself in the wrong universe, unbeknownst to you.
contains : a little angst, fluff, kissing, implied cheating??, cussing, they are in their late teens, happy endings i promise 
word court : 1142
notes : i rewatched atsv for like the 4th time and for some reason i decided that i wanted to write about what would happen if e!42 miles and e!1610 miles switched places like how it is at the end of the movie except nobody is like tied to a punching bag LMAO. this was my attempt at writing a longer fic too 😍
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How did he end up here?
This wasn’t his earth. He didn’t understand how or why he was here but all he knew was that this was the wrong place. 
He couldn’t help the way that he felt stupid for allowing himself to get into this whole situation. 
“Miles..? You okay?”
Miles blinked and looked over at you, furrowing his eyebrows to try and adjust to his new surroundings. How did you get into his apartment? Or… what he thought was his apartment? He really had no idea anymore.
Everything was confusing him at this point. He didn’t know anything anymore.
“Miles.”
You snap your fingers in front of his face to gain his attention, not understanding why your boyfriend was acting so weird. Miles blinked once again and shook his head, running a hand over his face.
“Yeah.. yeah, ‘m fine.”
Okay. That was definitely weird. Since when did Miles have an accent? And since when did he have braids in his head? 
“Uhm.. okay?”
Miles let out a puff of air and shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. How the hell was he even supposed to get home? How did he even get here? He had no idea. 
“Qué pasa, Miles? You keep starin’ off into space.”
“‘M fine.. I promise”
Miles gave you an awkward smile and cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving his hands into his pockets. You looked familiar to him, like he’s seen you somewhere before. He wasn’t really sure. Maybe it was in his universe. Whatever it was, it was weird.
Miles flinched slightly when you touched his face. 
“What? You mad or somethin’?”
“Huh..?”
Okay, so that was definitely weird. Why was he acting this way? Have you done something wrong? You didn’t really know. But all you knew was that Miles, or whoever the hell this was, flinched when you touched him. That never happened. 
“Miles, quit fuckin’ playin’ around with me right now.”
“I don't know what you’re talking about..”
You let out a sigh and shook your head, your thumb caressing his cheek lightly. Miles couldn’t help the way that he felt comfort from how you touched his face. It was wrong, he knew that much, but it still felt so nice. 
He couldn’t enjoy it for too long though.
You pressed a kiss onto his lips, not one that was long, only a peck but Miles flinched back a little too fast. It made your eyebrows furrowed together at how he was acting. He couldn’t kiss you. Couldn’t even be with you because this wasn’t his universe and you weren’t his girlfriend.
“Estás bien? You’re fuckin’ actin’ weird, Miles”
Before he could even get a word out, the front door suddenly swung open. 
“Ay, Y/N.. you’re still here? I thought you would’ve gone home by now?”
“Sí but I figured I would keep Miles company ‘til you came home.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
Miles blinked and looked over at the woman that was supposed to be his mom. 
What happened to her eyes? Why weren’t they green anymore? It was weird to him. 
Well, he already knew why her eyes weren’t green. This wasn’t his earth. This was someone’s earth. It wasn’t his and he hated it.
“Woah, Miles, what’d you do to your hair?”
“Huh..?”
“You like braids now? You’re no longer tender-headed?”
Miles blinked and squinted at Rio, almost like he was confused on what the hell she was talking about. And he was. 
What the hell did she mean tender-headed? He had been tender-headed a day in his life! 
But to make himself seem less suspicious and weird, he just nodded his head. The best thing he could do right now was blend in. 
“He’s been actin’ weird since he got here”
Miles looked over at you as he talked about him like he wasn’t even there. That annoyed him. He hated when people did that.
“Oh.. well I’m sure me and Jeff will be able to figure out why. Thanks for staying Y/N.”
“Of course.. Let me know if you need anything”
Miles watched as you left the apartment. It was weird. Jeff? That didn’t make any sense to him. Jeff was… dead. Had his mother found another man with the same name? That couldn’t be.
He knew his mother; she would never find someone else. 
Rio suddenly looked over at her son and took a step towards him, inspecting his hair and the way he looked. He was much shorter than before. 
“How did you get here so early? Your father said he was gonna take you home.”
“Uh.. Uncle Aaron took me home?”
Rio stared at him and blinked before she shook her head, moving her gaze away from him. This wasn’t a time for him to be bought up.
“Son, you know that ain’t possible.”
“Huh?”
Rio sighed and shook her head, rubbing her temples and walking into the kitchen. She had no idea what was up with him but she knew that something was definitely wrong. 
He was being so weird. 
“Miles, I know you miss Aaron.. We all do but that doesn’t mean you can just say stuff like that.”
“Sorry?”
Rio sighed heavily and shook her head, clearly fed up with her son’s antics. It was a little annoying how he was acting. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with this. She was too tired for all this.
Miles seemed to notice how annoyed she was and turned on his heels, walking further into the apartment and into ‘his’ room. 
The moment he opened the door, he saw so, so, many fucking posters. God, the room was a damn pigsty. How the hell could anyone live in this filth? 
Miles notices a sketchbook laid on the bed, his body now peaked with curiosity. At least they had one thing in common. He walked over and grabbed the book, flipping through the pages. A lot of them were so random. He took note of all the drawings he had of Aaron and some.. girl. 
Wow. Must’ve been the girl that was there earlier. There were also a few drawings of some other girl in some stupid superhero suit. Apparently this Miles is a fanboy. Totally not weird at all. He had to admit though, his counterpart was really good at drawing. Well, of course he was. 
They were the same person, just a different universe.
Miles could hear talking from outside the door. He slowly opened it and peeked outside, his eyes scanning around the apartment as he saw some guy, presumably Jeff, walking in the front door.
His.. his dad was still alive? Was he not captain here? He didn’t know for sure. He saw another figure behind the man. He was taller and had a wack ass ‘fro.
The other Miles was also here.
Shit.
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Note
You can totally delete this if it makes you uncomfortable or you just don't want to answer or anything
trigger warning : period (?)
I know you didn't describe Pup's body (and that's so great)
But i was wondering, in a world where they are afab (assigned female at birth), how would they react if they have periods?
Would their old base had shamed Pup of them? Or would Pup have something, like a treatment, to not have them?
How would Pup react if they got their period and it got a stain on their bed sheets or uniform?
(Not me again projecting myself because I have my period at the moment lmao)
✨️ anon
Yes, I like to keep most stuff for Pup gender free so that people are able to picture them being a guy/gal/non-binary wolf-person if they like! However I will happily write a lil something for if they were AFAB and had periods ☺️
You sighed and thunked your head back into the pillows, cursing softly as you felt a dreaded wetness pooling between your legs and an aching burn work itself through your tummy. Your period had started. With a small whimper you sat up and reached out for the lamp, standing away from the bed and sighing with relief when you realised that by some miracle you hadn't stained the bed yet.
However your pyjamas were another story.
There was nothing else for it, you had to raid your drawers and steal yourself to the bathroom so that you could shed them and get something to quell the bleeding. Luckily the house was quiet and dark, Ghost was asleep. At least that was something - you wouldn't have to face him seeing your dirty clothes and questioning why you were up past lights out.
After getting changed you headed to the kitchen and stuck your pyjamas into the washing machine, not thinking of anything else but hiding all evidence that you'd made a mess. Once all was clean, you breathed a little sigh of relief and sat cross legged in front of the washing machine, watching as the dark compartment filled with sloshing water and began to spin.
You were glad for being able to just deal with it right away, not having to worry about anyone else see you or judge you. The cramping, still blazing on low in your belly, reminded you of the training sessions you’d have at Branhaven, sometimes performing so badly in your dizzied and weakened state that you’d be sent to the kennels as punishment. Sometimes of course they’d catch you out from the blood on your clothes and send you off just for knowing you were on your cycle, ‘predicting’ that you’d just be a nuisance. The rest of the day would be spent clutching yourself like a feeble child, feeling dirty and sweaty the whole time until you were able to leave and change. It worse if you were actively on a mission, any little mistake would be blamed on your ‘condition’, and you’d be constantly threatened with abandonment.
“What’re you doin’ up then, ay?”
You jumped, not expecting Ghost to walk in on your late night contemplating. He shone a torch low at your feet, but from his shadowy position you could see that he was only in his boxers and t-shirt, his unmasked face was squinting out at you in the dark.
“Sorry, Ghost,” you murmured sheepishly. “Didn’t mean to wake you. I had some- I had to wash my pyjamas.”
“Alright…and why’s that?” He asked, rubbing his bleary eyes with the back of his free hand.
“My um- my period came,” you sighed.
Ghost’s head lifted in understanding. He flicked the light on at that wall, causing you both to blink furiously. In the cold harsh light, you found your cheeks warming, now embarrassed that he was having to deal with you. You just hoped he wasn’t going to be annoyed about your upcoming performance the next day…
“You need anything?” He asked, crossing the room to the cupboard he usually kept the first aid kit in. “I got some paracetamol here if you’re feelin’ sore. Can get you a hot water bottle if you’d like?”
You blinked, not quite prepared for his pragmatism until you reminded yourself of exactly who you were dealing with. Of course Ghost would be understanding. It was obvious now, you smiled and nodded and then gratefully took the pills and glass of water he’d prepared for you.
“Go get yourself comfy n’ lie down, Pup. I’ll get your hot water bottle to you once it’s ready.”
You were about to tell him he didn’t need to go to the trouble but he shot you a hard look that wasn’t easy to disagree with. Easier to just go along with it, you decided.
“Thanks, Ghost,” you said softly, smiling when he grunted his acknowledgement.
After you were settled in bed, Ghost soon joined you again and tucked the fluffy hot water bottle under the covers for you. Even after that though, he remained when you expected him to leave. He settled by your side and ran a hand over the top of your head, softly fussing at your ears until you let out a content purr like sound.
“Poor thing,” he cooed, cupping his hand over your cheek. “We’ll need to go easier tomorrow, huh?”
“We don’t have to,” you yawned, blinking back the sleep that darkened the corners of your vision. “I’ll still be putting in the effort for you Ghost.”
“I know you will, Pup,” he chuckled. “I know. We’ll see how you get on. Just do me a favour and get a good nights sleep, darlin’”
You rolled your eyes at him, but nodded. He was too nice sometimes you thought, he’d be such a pushover if you ever tried to take advantage. Not that you wanted to.
“Night Ghost,” you yawned. “Thank you…”
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queerponcho · 3 months
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Please
A/N: Hi hello, girlies!! I am back from my lil break hehe. I've been working alot and organising my shit and i finallz have time to post smth again ㄟ(≧◇≦)ㄏ This is just a little oneshot I really enjoyed writing hehe<3
moonknight x f!reader
warnings: sexual tension, first person perspective, the tension could be cut with a butterknife lmao
1700 words
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“Are you serious??” I ask my mom incredulously. “You’re really gonna make us sleep apart?? We aren’t the ones getting married! I thought this rule only applied for the groom and bride?” we had barely stepped into the house and the stressed energy was messing up our newly engaged mood. Of course we haven’t told anyone about the engagement due to the focus being on my sister. I didn’t want to take any of the focus off of her but it was really hard to keep it for myself. I love the boys and I would kill for a chance to show off the pretty crescent shaped yellow diamond-ring they had got me. It’s so beautiful and I’d have never taken it off if it wasn't so obviously an engagement-ring. 
“Oh honey, you’re gonna be fine! Please just do this- for your sister? It’s only for three nights-”, “Three nights????” I whisper-yelled. My mom and I were in the study and were tryna keep our voices down since Marc was in the kitchen with the groom and my dad. My sister was somewhere ticking off last-minute tasks with her bridesmaids. I would be with her right now if I hadn't just flown in from london…I am secretly kindof glad to be home first though. I had talked with her on the phone before coming here and she sounded really stressed. As soon as she gets here I won’t be able to leave her side. Arriving early provides me with sufficient time to show my boys around the neighbourhood and my childhood-home. 
“Ay mija porfavor! It's three damn nights! Stop behaving like a teenager and make a sacrifice for your sister. Por dios…” without waiting for my answer she makes a swift exit out the door making sure to avoid looking at me so I can’t keep the dispute going. She certainly knew how to end an argument. 
I follow her to the kitchen, wiping the pissed off expression off my face before anyone can spot it. As I enter I see the beautifully tanned, dimpled face I love so much doing his absolute best to keep up small-talk with the future husband of my anxiety-riddled sister. He sees me and his eyes immediately hone in on me, practically begging me to save him from the current discussion about the latest tennis match. I decide to grant him his wish and slide over to his side of the kitchen island, my arm circles around his waist and I tighten my grip on him and smile when he completely gives me his full attention. 
“Hi baby” I say with a sweet smile and turn to the groom to properly say hello and take the lead on the casual conversation. Marc moves me in front of him swiftly and circles both his arms around my waist, he quickly kisses my temple and continues to listen in on the conversation, once more taking his favoured role as a spectator. 
The polite conversation is cut short by a nervous call from a bridesmaid to the groom. Apparently they needed a last minute decision on the song since the artist of the initial choice had been cancelled a few days before. 
Marc and I quickly made our way up the stairs to my room so I could fill him in on the “separate bedroom”- Situation. “So this is where you had all your awkward phases, huh?” “Excuse me? I never had awkward phases. I have definitely never ever worn 4 layers of ripped tights thinking I had made a huge fashion discovery, nah- never…” 
“Mhm okay- seems like a really specific example, cariño” Jake moves behind me and softly kisses my neck, littering quick gentle kisses all over. “Amor- profa. The door- my mom” Right on cue I hear my moms platform house-shoes make their way down the hall. I push Jake off of me and he stumbles into the dresser completely bewildered by my actions. “Niña!! ¿Dónde estás? Your sister needs you!” I lean out the door to answer. “Okay mom! Just lemme change out of these clothes!” “¡Pero ponte las pilas!” “¡¡Ay ya mamà!! I’m coming!!” I yell back as I hear her walk back down the steps. 
I take a frustrated breath and turn to my luggage to unpack it as quickly as I can, desperate to find an outfit that is cute but also comfortable in case I wanna fall asleep in the cab on my way over to my sister. 
“What the hell was that?” oh…oops. “Shit- Jake I am so sorry, I swear- I didn’t think- are you hurt?” I worriedly reached out to him to check him.
“Physically I’m not, but emotionally I might be” he says in a joking tone, clearly thinking my reaction was more funny than hurtful but he still wanted to know why I’d done it. 
He leans back against the dresser and I move to stand between his legs and reach up to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m sorry baby- It’s just my mom has never really seen me be all like, close with anyone like this. Like, she knew I’d had partners but like, if she met them the most I’d do in front of her is like, hold their hands…I’m sorry I freaked out.” I look down as I tug on my fingers feeling the anxiety crawl up my throat. 
“Ay cariño, it’s alright. Just so you know, I wouldn’t want your mom to see me casually kiss your neck either. We should save that for when the door is closed, okay?” he hugs me back into him and I snuggle into his firm chest and nod.
“About that, you kinda owe us, you know- for body slamming us into the dresser and breaking our ribs and stuff.” 
“Woooooww you’re lying so hard right now. I did not nearly shove you as hard as that.” I giggle 
“Oh? Are you minimising my pain? Bold move for someone that's gonna have to share a bed with me tonight.” he grins and moves his hands down to my ass to give it a firm squeeze, which makes his wolfish grin only worsen.
As he is moving in on my collarbone to lick and kiss it I lose my train of thought. I was gonna say something wasn’t I? There was something important…
He makes his way up and nibbles on my earlobe, biting it and sending a beautiful ache down my spine by doing so.
He moves me backwards until my legs hit my bed and gently lays me down. As he keeps going I feel the sensation of my soft sheets underneath me and I am reminded of a dreadful conversation.
“B-baby- can *mnnh* can you ple-ease sto-p” he lifts his head, his glossed over, hungry eyes piercing into mine as he licks his wet lips. Ugh he is making this so much harder right now. I take a few deep breaths and form the words. “W-we have to sleep in separate rooms-” “he blinks and his deep and sultry voice is quickly replaced by a worried English man. “Whot why??- Did we do something wrong?” he backs away and sits back on his shins. “Nono! No sweetie you-you were perfect. God you were- fucking perfect but my- my mom wants us to sleep separately for the next three nights-”, “three nights????” “i know baby-”, “but we just got back from a mission yesterday- We haven’t spent a night together in like 2 weeks-”, “I know love- But mom she, she insisted. She is saying it’s cuz my sister wants it that way but I'm pretty sure she just doesn't like the thought of me in bed with a man I haven't married. Especially cuz I’m pretty sure my mom has just outright refused to consider that me and my sister might have an active sex-life…” 
“Right and we can’t tell her about our engagement yet…this blows” Marc says exasperatedly and slumps down on the bed.
“I know babe. Let's just do this. It's just three days and then we can head back. And remember we got those first class tickets for our way back…they have those big bathrooms in the firstclass part of the plane…” I look at him and bat my eyelashes and run my hands up his thighs, feeling him tense under my grip.
“Mmh beba, don’t promise things you can’t follow through” Jake rakes his eyes over your face in a dark gaze. “Mmh baby have I ever broken a promise?” I lean forward, resting my weight completely on his thighs, our lips almost touching. Marc looks up at me through his lashes and his usual tense expression melts away at the intensity of me. “...no, you would never” he breathes. I move my head next to his and move towards his ear, my lips ghosting over the shell of it and I can see the goosebumps rising on his neck by the soft contact.
“So, all you have to do…is be patient” I punctuate my statement by softly nibbling at their earlobe. I part away from him and before I can stand up he grabs my wrist. “Oh, luv you can’t expect us to hold through for 3 days without a touch from you or getting at least a little taste of you now and again. It's been weeks- I-” I look at his pleading eyes and before I can say anything he continues. “Look what you do to us-” He pulls my hand and places it on his hard crotch. And oh god was it hard- “by merely being in the same room with you-” he whines and I feel myself pitying Steven and his needy state. He slowly grinds against my palm as I stare at him trying really hard to argue with myself why this can’t continue until I’ve watched him cum at least three times-
“HIJA- WHERE ARE YOU??” I basically lunge myself off the bed and sprint towards the door, throwing my entire weight against it to keep it from being opened. “Coming mami!! Five minutes!” I breathe out from relief when I hear my moms shoes click-clacking down the hall and back down the stairs. I move away from the door and look back at Marc…He looks delicious. His hair; a mess and he is resting on his elbows, his knees spread apart, making it impossible to look away from the bulge protruding through his fitted slacks. “I’m not sure I’ll make it through these three days either, to be honest…”
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a/n: hope you all loved it and stuck around eventhough i haven't been very active lately. love you guys and pls like, comment, reblog if you liked it!! I love getting to read your reactions and feedback<33
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igotyupls · 7 months
Text
Big Score
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WC: 1100? Anyway, took this from my previously written wattpad book, took that down, cause Jesus looking back my writing was horrendous, so is this, just a little proofreading but it still is shit, only posting this cause I feel bad lmao, I just need like a few hundred words to finish the two actual stories I was going to post but I can’t move my right arm without feeling like my sides on fire so anyway, at the time of writing this like in 2021, I replayed gta5 for the nth time so this is based off of that just a shittier, lamer, bs rendition lol
"Ready?" Y/N asked his partner Trevor as they sat in the getaway-car waiting for the right time to rob the bank.
"Oh fuck yeah I am" Trevor replied to Y/N in his equally "excited" voice.
"Our big score huh” Y/N emphasized , putting on his mask while T does the same, and jumping out and making their way into the bank,
Opening the door, and rubbing inside inside as T took down the security guard hitting him in the back of the head. While Y/N jumped over the counter,
"EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU GET BACK FROM THE COUNTER AND ON YOUR KNEES" He yelled, waving his M762 at the few workers In front of him.
Luckily , they listened scared shitless for their lives as Y/N took their phones in tandem with T, who’s taking the phones from the customers, once done,
"Bank manager, Get the hell up!" Y/N barked, and after a few seconds a man in his late 50's got to his feet.
"Not you!" Y/N said shoving the man back on the floor, and pointing towards a woman, "Her" he says, staring dead straight at the actual bank manager.
"EVERYONE GO TO THE FUCKING FRONT!" Y/N yells, making the rest of the workers go around to join the customers, quivering on the marble floor,
While he drags the manager unceremoniously towards the vault, as Trevor deals with the rest, keeping an eye on them
"When is the time lock going to be released ?" Y/N asks her, even though he knows when,
"At around 9 a clock" the manager blurt out shuttering through her sentence.
"Don't lie to me, it's gonna be released at 08:30, I fucking know that shit!" He says shaking her with one hand as he grits his teeth, eyes steely behind his mask, before gruffly letting out a breath
"Listen, I won't hurt you, but that dude over there ," Y/N says as calmly as he can while pointing at Trevor, who's taunting the others with his gun, like a mad man if not a pure lunatic,
"I can't say the same thing for him, so don't get yourself killed for somebody else's cash" He says patronizingly shaking her shoulder, while watching the clock, only 15 seconds left on it, "Alright, open it" He tells her once the clock reaches 08:30.
She shakes, both from the fear and the adrenaline raving inside her body but she gets it open and then gets dragged inside with Y/N while he starts shoving cash in his bag,
Once the bag's filled to the brim, Y/N leads the manager back to the front where everyone else is,
That's when he sees T talking to a female customer and harassing her, scoffing in frustration, Y/N pulls him back,
"You're supposed to be looting the drawers, you horny fuck!" He says bewildered to say the least,
Making Trevor wave his hand dismissively, blabbering a lame excuse "I already did, fucking hell, I'm just having a little fun." Smirking a little, "I'm thinking I might take her with us-" he says, only to get shutdown,
"That's not happening, T" Y/N says pretty straightforward..
But of course; Trevor doesn't get simplicity, "This is the big score and I'm gonna do whatever the fuck I want" he says before pushing Y/N, almost making him drop his loaded bag, while he saunters to the woman, "Come here girly"
*THUNK* he falls short however as Y/N, smacks him with the back of his M7 knocking him into oblivion, followed by a thud as the heavy bag of loot falls from Trevor's shoulder,
"You fucking idiot, T" Y/N mutters, kicking Trevor's unconscious body, before checking his watch, no time to waste but he needs that second loot bag,
"Ay, you" He calls back pointing to a brunette woman, kneeling in the corner with the rest of the customers, "What's your name?"
"Lisa" The said brunette says back, astonishingly less afraid than the rest,
Y/N nods, "Okay Lisa. You are going to pick up my friend's bag and come with me" He says kicking the bag, making it skid to Lisa,
"no, she won't " some wannabe macho-man suddenly yells as he gets to his feet and stands in front of Lisa, angering the already fiery rage in Y/N,
"don't be a hero today, you'll get killed" He says deathly calm, hand already on his trigger, he didn’t come in thinking he’d kill, but now he doesn’t care,
But people do say, women are smarter than men, as Lisa inches closer,
“I'll come, just-, don't hurt the others " she says shakily, but it seems fake as she brushes past the so called blubbering hero and hurls up T's bag.
Y/N pulls her in front of him, using her as a human shield,
"Dont any of you dare follow us, otherwise you'll also be on the ground like him" Y/N says pointing towards T, while he kicks him again for good measure,
Getting out of the bank while making sure Lisa was in front of him, he rushed to the getaway car, shoving her quickly in the passenger side and tossing the loots in the back, he runs to the driver's side, driving away as quickly as he possibly can.
Speeding out of the city fast, at a constant speed and the constant feel of the silence around him and the dewy brown eyes on him,
Y/N finally stops the car inside one of the tunnel entrances under a random bridge, “Yes?" He says quirking one eyebrow, but of course she doesn’t answer so he takes off his mask, throwing it carelessly wherever,
"T had it coming, okay?" He says shrugging while faux jutting his bottom lip,
"Yeah, I guess so, but I didn't think you would knock him out , like actually, Y/n" she finally says, with a chuckle, and a shake of her head,
“Meh” is all Y/N says shrugging, seeming almost childish and not the big; bad robber from just minutes ago,
They stare at each other for a few more seconds before breaking into smiles, "we get extra money this time huh?" she speaks up again,
Y/N nods with a cheeky smile, pulling her into his chest and pecking her temple, “Mhm” he answers lazily while hugging her, as police cars zoom past the tunnel entrance sirens blaring,
But Lisa just hugs his arm, not even flinching, “I love you" is all she says snuggling closer
a/n: yikes man, what was middle schooler me thinking, this is deffo getting removed once I start posting “sophisticated” one shots lmao🥲
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enatopiaa · 2 months
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Just a fun oneshot that I thought of!! OPM songs give me so much inspiration ‎٩(⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)و*̣̩⋆̩*
guys i know Grimmjow is literally in all blue and one would assume its his fav color but hey its for the story okay😔👎
(Bleach) Grimmjow Jaegerjaques x fem!reader ; inspired by the song Dilaw - Maki (ˊᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꇴ ᵒ̴̶̷̤ˋ) i love this song so much !!
Timeline ; after TYBW arc
TW: none! pure fluff ‼️
I originally wrote this in Filipino to practice LMAOO yeah I’m not sharing it… MY GRAMMAR IS SO BAD. Pure pinoy pero mas mataas grade sa english BAHAHAHA
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“Ikaw, Ikaw ay dilaw”
⊹ ࣪ ˖
In all honesty, Grimmjow had never given much thought about his favorite color. He was never the type to care about such trivalities, he simply just accepts whatever came his way.
So why did he say that she was correct when she answered the color ‘yellow’ on their small guessing game about his favorite color?
“Is it yellow? I think it’s a pretty color and it’s also one of my favorites!” She answers on her first try. She was excited and smiling like a little child as her eyes sparkled with wonder, he could never admit it, but every time he looks at those (e/c) orbs, it always felt like the world was calm.
He found himself pausing for a moment, feeling something stir within him when she enthusiastically said the word ‘yellow’, the way the word rolled off her tongue sounded like a sweet melody, he felt his heart skipping a beat. He nodded in agreement, it was as if that color infused with her energy and excitement
“Yeah, you’re right…”
From that day forward, suddenly yellow was no longer just a ‘mere color’— It was her, her smile that can light up a dark room, her laughter that always sounded like a song. Every time he saw the golden hue, she was all he could ever think about.
He never had these bothering thoughts and feelings before, he was the former sexta espada, a hollow— he wasn’t supposed to be able to ‘feel anything’ in the first place, his hollow hole was proof of it.
Grimmjow insists that he loathes humans and soul reapers especially that damn strawberry head, but theres this warm feeling that he feels inside every time he hung out with the woman who was never afraid to stand her ground in front of him. A scintilla of something else filling in his void, it was unfamiliar to him, but it felt mellow like the spring day.
He always felt this strange, yet comforting feeling of euphoria whenever they were together. Sure, They may have been enemies and have hurt each other at first when the Espadas were still a thing and Aizen was still around, but ever since the day Urahara paired them up to work together with a few tasks during the invasion of the Quincies, he has been finding himself to slowly enjoy her company as time passed.
The wounds and scars that they gave to one another during their past clashes suddenly meant more than it was supposed to ‘hurt’, the pain it inflicted became a constant reminder of her presence in his life; no longer an act of violence but rather a testament of their history and the unspoken promise that bloomed between them.
His world was once dull and devoid of meaning, mirroring the barren dunes of Hueco Mundo, until she entered his life like a guiding star, introducing him to the vibrant world of the living, for once he was starting to feel more— emotions that he never knew he had possessed as a hollow, bringing color into his world that was once monochromatic.
If he was in a ballroom, she was his dance partner. If he were searching for answers, she was his certainty.
If there was a color to the new light that had been guiding him through the darkness,
She was yellow.
⊹ ࣪ ˖
yeah i said I wasn’t a writer but since this grade level we’ve been writing so many poems and essays I just had to find a way to improve, in a way where i can enjoy LMAO but yeah this is just a practice, i might start writing some more but…🧍
hope u guys enjoyed, its short but I tried😔 Grimmjow is a difficult character to write afterall but i love him still CACKCLING
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sthavoc · 6 months
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hii can i request something from the previous stories where they meet at the oscars but reader wins an award, so he sees them hug their co star and going up the stage?
- love your work<3
࿐ ࿔ 💎 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 | ENZO VOGRINCIC
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·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x actress!reader
·˚ ༘ summary: enzo and you meet at the Oscars. he admires you as you go up the stage to receive your award.
·˚ ༘ warnings: fluff, mentions of nervousness?
·˚ ༘ note: yall I just made up a random movie name lmao. i’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to write one fic, this has been sitting in my draft for weeks now 😓. ps u can tell I love enzo in black. I'm sorry if there's any grammar mistakes. i’ll try to update soon!
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Cameras flashed all around the carpet, you embodied every new pose for each camera and revealed a few smiles.
“Y/N look this way!”
“You look amazing!”
After ending a few shots you walked across the carpet trying to get into the venue, that was until you crossed paths with a group of men. One of them bumped into your body frame when you tried walking into the entry of the venue, your hands plopped from the front of your dress.
“Oh- I’m sorry.” You perked up to see a man in a black suit, somewhere between your age, if not older. And you swore you recognized him from somewhere. But you weren’t sure from where.
“I’m sorry, miss.” His accent was thick. You stood by thinking for a second until it hit you—
“¿Enzo?” The tone of your voice seemed with excitement that you couldn’t hold back.
“¿Sí?” He replied with a questionable style, but his lips showed a smile.
You extended your arms in a way of surprise. Meeting other celebrities that you were a fan of because of their work would always get you so hyped up. You still were not used to the fact of meeting other celebrities in person, not just through the screen. “¡No puedo creer que estés aquí! Soy T/N, gran fan tuya—” You shake your head placing your hand on your opened chest. “Excelente trabajo que hiciste en la Sociedad de la Nieve.”
His smile only grew with your praise. It was the hugest one you had ever seen, it almost made you wonder if it didn’t hurt his cheeks. “Ay, pero vos—” he copies your motion of putting his hand on his chest with a small pout of warmness. “Me fascina tu trabajo.”
The both of you kept on lauding each other with so many compliments, that at this moment everybody had seen the two of you together. But for both of it felt like you were just having a normal conversation as two friends, not even two people that had just met.
“Vi que estás nominada a mejor actriz.” He mentions.
Your head nodded with excitement, excitement that you couldn’t hold back. You were so happy to be here and thankful as well that all your hard work got you to where you once wanted to be.
“Estoy muy emocionada pero también muy nerviosa.”
“Ya verás que ganas, vos sos la mejor.” He gave you a side smile with a wink that didn’t seem flirtatious but more friendly. “Y si no, no pasa nada. Un premio no define tus logros y gran trabajo.”
“Ay gracias.” You blushed at his compliment.
The both of you walked into the venue of the Oscars. You had to part ways but you wished each other the best of luck before you went to your respective seats. The nerves inside you never stopped and continued to tremble through the night. Even more with how close they would get to the best actress.
You were trying to repeat the words Enzo had told you. Even if you didn’t win you were still proud and happy to be one of the nominees. That is something that shows how big of an accomplishment you’ve made and it makes you nothing but proud.
When the host got the envelope that revealed who was the winner of tonight’s best actress, your heart felt like it was running the mile.
“And the nominees for best actress are—”
Each of the actresses began to appear on the screen, including yourself, with scenes from the movies. Each of you had a round of applause that made you smile, from the nerves and happiness. This was it.
“And the Oscar goes to—” The screen lit up with all the nominees having a camera facing towards them.
From where Enzo sat he looked only at you through the screen. He smiled seeing how you couldn’t hide your shakiness and nervousness, but also excitement.
“YN. Later On Tonight.” Enzo watched the moment your face went into shock as you did a little jump before turning to look at your co-stars who had the same reaction as you.
The venue erupted into clapping, Enzo with them. He watched how you raised from your chair and walked over towards the stage, your dress slightly dragged on the shiny floor, but it wasn’t important at the moment. Enzo watched how you accepted your Oscar and how you stared at it with shock in the eyes, he was honestly proud.
He thought you looked beautiful, your dress was a light shade of green, your hair was half up and the intention was for it to look messy, for you had a couple of strands on your face. Your makeup wasn’t much, but you could still notice it. There was a little glittery eyeshadow on your eyes and your lips were a tinted strawberry red. You looked like a princess to him.
“Wow, This— I don’t know how to start.” You giggled out of shock. “Thank you so much to everyone in the crew, my parents, friends, and agent, I wouldn’t be here tonight accepting this award if it wasn’t for any of you. I am so grateful, and all of the nominees tonight you all are amazing in what you do, big fan of all of you.”
Your lips let out a sight trying to think, you were able to make contact with Enzo who only smiled and stared softly. You thought of how to finalize your speech.
“A wonderful person tonight told me, and I quote, “Un premio no define tus logros y gran esfuerzo” An award does not define your accomplishments and great effort, and they are right. So to anyone who doesn’t win tonight, or didn't, just know you are amazing at what you do, you are still the best and already winners. Thank you so much.” You raise the Oscar in the air. When you glanced towards Enzo once more you noticed his smile.
He watched you run towards your friends immediately embracing each other in a huge hug. He watched how you jumped up and down, to what he found cute. He watched how you snapped a picture with the award and a silly smile. He assumed your reasons were to show a loved one the award.
You looked pure, mesmerizing. He felt the necessity to snap a picture of your moment and send it to you. You needed this framed. Maybe his way of starting a conversation with you after the events. When he took the picture, he captured you smiling with the Oscar in one hand and covering your mouth in shock with the other.
He’ll see when he sends it.
After all, you'll answer. Will be surprised, but you'll answer.
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