#and let’s be clear I’m grateful for the attention I’ve gotten and I don’t expect everything I post to become a fan favorite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sariahsue · 1 year

Text

Let Me Count the Ways

Chapter Eleven - Hide and Seek

[Ch 1] [Ch 2] [Ch 3] [Ch 4] [Ch 5] [Ch 6] [Ch 7] [Ch 8] [Ch 9] [Ch 10]

It was a training night, and Ladybug couldn't keep her hands off Chat Noir. Not that he was complaining, but it was really putting his resolve to the test. He wasn't going to make her uncomfortable or make her push him away. The sweet, agonizing burning of her proximity was something he would endure.

The blur of her yoyo sliced through the cool air, and Chat Noir, caught off guard, barely raised his baton in time.

"Nice block!" She reeled the line in with a quiet zip and laid one hand over his. (He would die before admitting either that that block was 90% accidental or that her constant touch was NOT helping. It felt like his bones were liquifying under her fingers.)

As soon as she walked away to ready her next attack, he stepped back to lean against the wall and closed his eyes, grateful for the short reprieve.

A whistling started, the sound of the yoyo spinning in a tight circle. "Okay. Again."

On a completely related note, he hadn't gotten a hit on her all night. (But, oh, was it ever worth it.)

Chat Noir pushed himself off the wall, swinging his weapon shakily, and missed the gleam in his Lady's eyes until it was far too late.

The yoyo flashed in an arc, wrapping around his baton as well as his hands. Ladybug yanked as hard as she could. It had been so quick that he didn't have time to even yell. He was flying off his feet and crashing into her before he knew what was happening.

He leapt off of her just as quickly, but not before he felt her mouth pressing against his collarbone.

"S-sorry," he managed to sputter out.

"No, I'm sorry," she said, unbothered, as she sat up. "I was only trying to disarm you, not grab you."

Heat crept up his face. He felt a sudden urge to fan it away, but if she hadn't noticed his blush yet, he wasn't going to draw attention to it, so he cleared his throat instead. "You usually have better aim than that."

"Well, I am very distracted tonight." She gave him a look, like he should know what had caused her bad throw.

Chat Noir busied himself with untangling his claws from her string. She kept doing that, expecting him to know what she was talking about, like it should be obvious to him. He should add that to his list. If he could just add everything up, he might finally puzzle out the secret message that he was missing.

In general, though. Not for this particular instance. Now the only thing he could think that she might mean was himself, but she couldn't have.

"Distracted by what?" he asked when his claws were finally free.

Ladybug gave a big sigh. "Never mind."

For the next half hour, the moon rose higher and Ladybug gave him a little bit more space. At first, it was helpful. He needed to catch his breath. But as the minutes ticked on and she kept her distance, he realized he was the one being driven to distraction. He wanted to be closer to her, to close the gap, pull her to him.

"I've got an idea to shake up this training session," she said after a silence that had stretched far too long (and had left him with ample time to agonize about spaces and how to fill them). "Wanna hear it?"

"Sure."

"So we have to hunt down akumas sometimes. What if we practice by looking for each other?"

Chat Noir tucked his baton away. "Isn't that just called hide and seek?"

"If you want to be boring about it, I guess we could call it that."

"Tactical detection training, then," he said. "Don't want Paris to think her heroes are boring."

She laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of cat and mouse." Her smile turned dangerous. "But I go first being the cat."

Ladybug offered him a head start, and he didn't want to argue, not with that look on her face. Bounding across the rooftops, he wondered where he should hide, and what she had in mind. While it was true they occasionally had to search for akumas, it was a rarity. They were usually loud and proud about the destruction they were causing. Plus, it wasn't like practicing hiding would do them much good. It was too dependent on the section of city the fight was in, and there was no way they could just… memorize all the good spots.

After a few minutes, he found an open window that led into the attic of an old museum. The lights on the main floors were off, and the attic itself looked dark and dusty and unused. A quick look around told him his Lady wasn't nearby and wouldn't see him sneak inside. Perfect. He slipped in, past boxes and furniture and forgotten things, trying to find the perfect spot, somewhere he could watch for movement outside but would provide plenty of cover should she happen to peek in.

One of the dust sheets behind him rustled, but when he turned, he didn't see any movement. He was playing the mouse, but he suspected that had been caused by a real one. He wrinkled his nose. It certainly smelled like them in there.

When he turned back to face the window, he heard another rustle but ignored it. At least until he felt a touch at the small of his back and a whisper at his ear.

"Found you."

He jumped away, heart racing, only to hear Ladybug laughing in response.

"How?" he croaked.

"There's lots of open windows. While you were making up your mind, I came in on the other side." She grabbed his hand. "You're going to have to lead me out. I can't see anything in here. I almost tripped and landed on my face before."

Chat Noir let himself have one small indulgence. Instead of keeping his hand stiff and flat in hers, he curled his fingers, letting the pads press gently against the back of her hand.

And then he tried to stop thinking about how great it felt and stop being weird about it and started leading them out.

The silence between them was as thick as the dust in the room. He wanted to say something, make a joke about holding hands, or maybe chance intertwining their fingers, but he couldn't. If he called attention to it, she would probably be flustered and embarrassed and would stop. And he did NOT want her to stop.

When he reached the window, he paused. The toes of his boots were inches away from the shaft of moonlight shining in through the open window. A part of him wanted to stay in here with her, alone together, where no one could see them.

Ladybug didn't wait for him, instead pushing past him when she saw the faint light.

"Wait." He pulled, and she came willingly, until they were face to face. The air felt warm despite the cool air snaking in through the window and curling around them.

"What?" At first she seemed simply surprised at being held back, but the raised eyebrows were soon exchanged for a small smile. Which he only noticed because he was staring at her mouth.

He flicked his eyes toward the window. "Uh. Remember to duck, so you don't hit your head on the way out." Okay, maybe he should tell her to stop. This was careening toward unfamiliar territory. Dangerous territory.

Ladybug didn't let go of his hand until they had both made it through the small window and were in plain sight of the buildings around them. Lights from streetlights and cars all felt pointed at him, illuminating the heart on his sleeve. It was only a matter of time before she saw it.

"We shouldn't do that again."

Ladybug stopped short, caught off guard by his abrupt declaration. "Why not?"

Because being in the dark, hidden from the world, had given him ideas that would threaten the balance he'd created in himself - between the contentment her platonic friendship gave him and his desire for more - that would threaten to tear it all to pieces if he let it grow. It would have been so easy to lean in, kiss her, and believe that she would have welcomed him.

"Because it took too long," he said bluntly.

"Yeah," she agreed with a frown. "You're right. This wasn't the best use of our time. It's already time to go. And I didn't get the result that I wanted anyway."

He let out a held breath. That was good. She hadn't suggested switching roles and trying again. He wasn't sure his self control could handle chasing her right now. The wind blew, and on the street below engines revved as a light changed, and he tried to focus on that instead of how badly he wanted to let himself love her.

Ladybug took a step forward and cupped his cheek. All of his attention snapped back to her in an instant, his hands finding her hips before he thought to keep them still. Their eyes locked.

"It was a good idea, though," she continued, like she hadn't even noticed where he was holding her. Should he move? She would say something if it was bothering her. He knew she would tell him if he was in danger of making her uncomfortable, and he shouldn't worry. But he felt guilty anyway.

The hand on his cheek dropped to his chest, then slid down lower.

His eyes slammed shut.

Don't react, he chanted to himself as he started to shake. Don't, don't, don't. The muscles in his stomach clenched as her fingers brushed over them.

Breathe normally! He couldn't let her realize the effect she was having on him. He wasn't sure he was successful.

The hand finally dropped and he opened his eyes.

"Same time tomorrow?" She smiled up at him, waiting for an answer, but he could only stare and feel her hips still in his hands.

"We should go," she whispered, and then she stepped away, slipping out from underneath his palms.

Chat Noir had to ball them into fists to keep from grabbing her again and dragging her back to him. Pulling her flush against him, blazing heat everywhere they connected. The image was so strong and so, so close.

But what would Ladybug's reaction be to his unwelcome pull? That image was a dark shadow. He didn't know how it would play out, but the dread building in his chest whispered suggestions. And he didn't want to ruin this.

So he forced himself to stay still and let her go, waiting until she was gone before sitting down on the roof and putting his face in his hands. His resolve was quickly crumbling. If he didn't do something soon, he risked pushing her away and damaging the friendship that meant so much to him.

Too bad he had no idea what to do.

---

Tag list: @clawsout83 @trippingovermyfeet @tbehartoo @yoonjae20 @random-cartoon-fangirl @jasvalka

#ml #mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir

41 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Those Who Wait

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader Word Count: 4,985 Tags: 18+, Loss of virginity, Insecure reader, Fingering, Protected sex Summary: When you let it slip to the team that you've never had sex, they make it their mission to help you find someone who will make your dreams a reality. *Requested by anons!

Link to A03 or read below! “I don’t know how many times I have to reiterate this, but I am not a virgin,” Spencer says, palms up, and it’s clear this is something he’s reminded the team of on more than one occasion. You’re on the jet on the way home from a case, all of you gathered around chattering mindlessly to decompress, with the exception of Hotch, who is in his usual seat, working on his computer.

“And I never said I was talking about you,” you reply, with a tone just shy of smartass. You regret bringing it up already, because this will open the door to a topic you did not want to discuss with the team, ever, but you can’t put the cat back in the bag.

“Hold on. Are you…?” Emily grins a little, but her face drops into a frown when she notices the change in your demeanor, the tension in your shoulders. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, at all.”

“You’re a virgin? Really? You’re almost thirty,” Morgan says, leaning forward to look at you, and you nod, shrug. “Is it a religious thing? Saving yourself for marriage?” You scoot back in your seat, blow out a breath, use the casual posture to try to mask your discomfort.

“Nope, it’s not a religious thing. I’m just waiting for someone who’s worth it.”

“If you’re waiting for the perfect person,” JJ says, folding forward, hands clasped in front of her, “you’re going to be waiting forever.”

You sigh, because this is exactly the reason you didn’t want to bring this up.

“I’m not waiting for the perfect person. For a long time, I didn’t have time to date, and I was—you know, satisfied, without it, so it wasn’t an issue.” Your cheeks heat a little when you say it, and you rub a hand over the back of your neck. “But lately I’ve kind of shifted toward wanting to have sex, to find someone to make the connection with. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I do have standards.”

“Don’t put pressure on yourself to do it. You’ve waited this long, why rush into things?” Emily says with a soft smile, and you reciprocate, grateful.

“I actually think it might be better if she just goes for it,” Morgan disagrees. Why aren’t you surprised? “Get it in, get it on, and get it over with. Then you won’t feel like it’s hanging over your head.”

“I’m trying. It’s not that I’m not trying. I’m going on dates; they’re all just really, really bad dates—like, the worst I’ve ever been on.”

“How many dates?” JJ asks with an arched brow, and you grimace.

“In the last month? Twelve.” Morgan laughs out loud, and you kind of want to punch him.

“Twelve first dates in the last month and you can’t get laid? Where are you finding these guys?”

“This stupid dating app Garcia convinced me to sign up for. They all seem fine on their profiles—”

“Oh, no, you can’t go by their profiles. Complete bullshit,” Emily says, and you throw your hands up in frustration.

“How else am I supposed to know what they’re like? They’re strangers.”

“Your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.” You’re a little surprised when it’s Spencer who chimes in; everyone turns to look at him. “You’re a lot like me, and I know that I was nervous and insecure, and waiting for the right person made it a really great experience for me. I think you should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful.”

“She’s going to be waiting ‘til she’s eighty,” Morgan says with a grin, but he pats you on the back. “And if you do, I guess that’s okay. Not every guy can be a catch like yours truly.”

“Oh, spare us,” JJ says with a laugh, and you move on to other topics for the rest of the flight.

When you go to grab your luggage before heading back to the office, it’s just you and Hotch left on the jet; he’s been quiet for most of the trip, but when he steps up next to you, he says your name, low, to get your attention.

“I just wanted you to know, you deserve to be treated well… your first time. You should wait for someone you know will make it meaningful, like Reid said.” You just look at him for a moment, not sure what to say.

Part of you knows what you want to say. You want to say, is it worth it? You want to say, how will I know? You want to say, would you make it meaningful?

What you say is, “Thanks, Hotch.” He nods, hands you your bag, then takes his, closes the luggage compartment; he gestures for you to go ahead of him, and the two of you exit the plane.

You all go back to the office. Everyone hangs around for a few minutes, but Hotch goes up to his office, turns on the lights, sits down at his desk, and takes off his jacket. He’s in for a long night, then. You’re just getting ready to leave when Garcia strolls over, bag in hand.

“Hey, girl. How was that date the other night? Haven’t gotten to talk to you about anything other than murder the last few days.” She notices that your eyes are on Hotch’s office, looks up at him and back down at you. “Is everything okay, hon?” The concern in her voice snaps you out of it, and you look to her, smile.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. The date was not, though. I’ll walk out with you.” You grab your things, throw your jacket over your arm, and take one last look up at Hotch’s office before making your way to the parking garage. You go on seven more dates over the course of three weeks that are a complete waste of time and effort. Who knew having what you consider relatively basic standards would make losing your virginity so goddamn difficult? You know you’re not a knockout like JJ or Emily, and sometimes your nerves get the best of you, but you’ve been pretty charming, funny, all dolled up and putting out clear, but not desperate, DTF vibes.

The longer your quest drags on, the more embarrassing it gets. It actually becomes a part of the morning meeting: as soon as you enter the briefing room each day, Morgan raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head. He’s keeping a tally. You want to die a little bit.

Finally, you’re sitting at home one evening when you get the call from JJ that you’ll be heading to Miami for a case first thing the next morning. You thank her for letting you know, but before she hangs up, she says, “Bring a dress, something sexy. If we have an extra night, we’re going to a club and getting you laid.”

You stammer, a little embarrassed at the directness, but you pack a short, light, red dress, something appropriate for a humid Miami night, on the off chance you’ll actually get to go out.

The case is solved in a day and a half, and you are going to stay the night again, so JJ and Emily make it their mission to get you ready for a night out, and Morgan and Spencer make it their mission to scope out your potential partners and check for red flags before you even get close to them.

It’s sweet, kind of wholesome, when you ignore the fact they’re trying to get you fucked.

You have a drink at the outdoor bar, try to loosen up a little; the place is swarming with gorgeous, supermodel looking women with very little clothing on, breasts and ass everywhere you turn, and you feel inadequate, self-conscious in your little red dress. You freaking hate Miami.

You get glances from Morgan and Spencer, nudges of encouragement from Emily and JJ—even Hotch is around somewhere, part of the red flag detail, which you hadn’t expected—and you’re so close to giving up when a song comes on that you know and absolutely love.

Sex is outside your realm of knowledge, but dancing you can do, and you wrap your hand around Emily’s wrist and tell her you want to. JJ takes your drinks, sets them on the table, and the three of you head out to the dance floor.

It’s clear they didn’t expect much of your dancing, because they looked surprised as hell that you know how to work your body to the music, putting your arms on JJ’s shoulders and moving against her. She looks up, grins at Emily over your head, and cocks her eyebrow, impressed.

“Not that innocent after all,” she says, and you toss your head lightly, laugh.

“Said I was a virgin, not that I was innocent.” The three of you dance together, and you’re approached by several guys who try to get behind you, in between you, closer anyway they can. JJ and Emily are selective with who they entertain and who they give the brush off, and you’re grateful, because despite the outcome, you’re having a good time, and you never would have done this alone.

Eventually, a man comes over, wants to dance with you specifically; the girls exchange looks, give you a nudge, and you put your arms around his neck, let him rest his hands on your hips.

He’s pretty hot, you have to admit, a little under six feet tall, with dark hair and eyes and a nice smile, and dancing against him feels good. If it’s any indication of what if would be like to have sex with him, you’d let him take you home in a heartbeat. Of course, it’s been pre-planned that you’ll go back to your room upstairs if you hook up, so your people are nearby in case anything goes wrong; it’s maybe a little weird, the thought of your coworkers being cheerleaders while you lose your virginity, but what about this isn’t weird? At this point, you’re just going with the flow.

This guy is nice enough, doesn’t go straight for your ass like other guys you danced with, but you can’t help feeling like something’s missing; you pull back, get his attention so you can tell him thanks for the dance, but you’re going to go back to your friends.

You don’t get a chance to say that, because you’re guided away from him by two strong hands on your waist. You turn, ready to tell someone off for getting handsy with you, but it’s Hotch, so the defensive posture you’d slipped into softens.

“Oh, hey. What’s going on? Is everything okay?” you ask loudly; his expression is serious, his brows pulled down in a frown. He shakes his head, leans in closer.

“I can’t let you go through with that—with him,” Hotch says in your ear, still hard to hear over the thrum of the music, and you put your hand on his shoulder, lean up so you can speak into his.

“What? Why not?” you ask, breathless from dancing and the heat. “JJ and Emily thought he seemed alright.” You didn’t actually want to go through with it, but that’s not important at the moment, not when Hotch is clearly trying to get some kind of point across.

“It’s not that, I just—you deserve better.” You frown, not sure you heard him right, and one of the hands on your waist moves lower; he presses you closer. “I don’t know if you would consider it, but I could do it. I could be the one.”

“The one?” you breathe. You need to hear him say it to confirm it’s not all in your head, that you aren’t taking anything out of context.

“The one you sleep with. The one to show you how good it can be. The one who will treat you well.”

You take a step back, have to see his face; is this pity, kindness, genuine interest? Because for the last few weeks, after every bad date, you’ve come back to the thought of Hotch kissing you, touching you, taking you apart. You know his hands are capable, you know he is kind and gentle, and it’s only the thought of him that keeps you from leaving with the first guy to show you attention. You’re so frustrated, never more desperate to feel than you have been since he told you you deserved something good.

He swallows when you look up at him, and your heart races.

“If you want to, I want to. No pressure if you don’t,” he assures you. What he’s saying is so unexpected, but so perfect, and you nod, wet your lips, lean back up on your toes to put your mouth to his ear.

“I want to. I trust you.” Feeling bold, you brush a hand over the back of his head, press your lips to the side of his neck. “Please?”

“Are you sure?” He sounds as tense as you feel, holds you tightly, like he needs to make sure this is really happening. You cling to him just as tightly, nod your head against his throat, and he squeezes your waist, ushers you across the crowded patio and inside the cool air of the hotel. You both sigh, because it’s quieter, more comfortable, and your gaze lingers over his body until he pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

You’ve done your fair share of kissing, and Hotch is so good at it, his hands on your face, his lips softer than you would have imagined, but firm in the way they press against yours. When the kiss breaks, you bring your hands to his wrists, breathing heavily, and then lean in to follow up with a kiss of your own.

He smiles softly, and you smile back, then slip your hand into his and let him lead you to the elevator. You’re not sure if it’s the night of dancing, the heat, the thrill of not only having sex after waiting so long, but having sex with Hotch, or what, but you feel changed; you’re a grown adult, you know that losing your virginity doesn’t mean much, doesn’t change who you are fundamentally, but the thought of experiencing it gives you a stomach full of butterflies in the best way possible.

“Would you like to go to my room, or yours?” he asks when you board the elevator, and he presses the button for the third floor. You plan to say it doesn’t really matter to you, but a thought crosses your mind.

“We can go to mine. I have condoms.” You’re not shy about using protection, know it’s just plain stupid not to, when you've been essentially searching for a new partner whose sexual and medical history you know little to nothing about, but telling Hotch makes your face heat a little. “I bought a variety pack—you know, when I started going on the dates.”

“Good. That’s good,” he says, nodding, and then he bends to kiss you, brushes his fingers over your jaw. “How are you feeling? Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Good,” you clarify. You feel so much better than okay you barely know how to say it, but there is one thing you didn’t think to ask before. “Hey, are you… are you attracted to me?” You look him over curiously, and the elevator dings; you step forward to get off, walk down the hall, but Hotch puts his hand out to stop the door, which stops you.

“I’m attracted to you. You’re gorgeous, and ever since you mentioned on the jet that this was something you were looking forward to… I can’t deny I’ve thought about being the one you share it with. Are you attracted to me?” You wet your lips, ready to reply with an emphatic yes, but he must take it for hesitation. “I understand why you want to do this, but if you aren’t attracted to me—it’s important that you want this with me, not just that you want this. I don’t want us to do anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

His words make you lose a little of the nervousness you were still holding onto, and you decide to show, not tell, how you feel about him; you wrap your fingers in his shirt and guide him down for a kiss that is hotter than before, still soft and slow, but wet and deep, too. After a moment, the elevator dings—likely due to the door remaining open for so long—and you break apart, breathless, and exit the elevator to head down the hall to your room.

Your interaction isn’t exactly awkward at first, but a little stilted: you both take off your shoes, and you grab waters from the mini fridge, hand him one and take a long sip of the other. It’s almost as if you are delaying the inevitable, but it’s not because this isn’t something you want to do; if pressed, you’d say the idea of having this time with Hotch is actually something you want to savor, not rush into too quickly. You aren’t delaying, but prolonging, and eventually you have to snap yourself out of it and just enjoy what you have while you have it.

You cross the room, walk over to him, and put your hands on his stomach, look up at him with clear eyes. His fingers ghost over your bare arms, and for a moment you just share breath, a lingering stare, until you stretch up to meet him in the middle for a deep kiss.

Hotch moves his hands to your hair, tips your head up, and you wind your arms around his back, pulling him closer and stepping forward until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He is warm, broad, solid beneath your hands, and you push them up the back of his shirt, skim them over his skin.

“Can I take this off?” you breathe when you separate, and he nods, helps you work it over his head and drops it to the floor.

Your hands rest on his stomach again, glide up his chest, and when you kiss this time, he turns you so your back faces the bed, eases you onto it. He lays between your legs, kisses until you’re both panting with need, and when you lean your head back to catch your breath he moves his mouth to your neck, trails it slowly up, then down, softly bites at the base of your throat. You hum softly, clutch his shoulders, bring your knees up around his waist.

“God, I want you.” He pulls back, looks down at you, his chest heaving, and you nod, brush fingers through his hair. “I want you, Hotch. Please touch me.”

He begins with the slow drag of big, careful hands down the outsides of your thighs, over your hips, pushing your dress up around your waist. You can’t stop looking at his face, serious and handsome, even though the rest of him is perfect too; you like that he looks affected by this, like it means something to him as well, like you’re not alone in feeling a bit overwhelmed. He moves his hands to the soft insides of your thighs, squeezes them, then leans up on his knees so he can pull your panties off, sets them on the bed beside him.

“I’m just going to rub. Tell me if it’s too much, not enough.” He curls over you for a kiss and slides his fingers along your pussy, three of them, long and thick. You close your eyes immediately, because the first touch is so good, his fingertips gliding through your slick and spreading it over your lips and clit; you are both breathing heavily, mouths hovering over each other, and you clutch at his biceps while he rubs where you are soft and aching.

It’s not that it’s not enough—you could get off this way, easily, you’re halfway there already—but you want more, imagine yourself clamping down around his fingers, digging your nails into him when you come.

“Can you…” You trail off, bite your lip, and he smooths a palm over your cheek, your hair.

“Ask me. Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to give it to you.” A soft, needy noise leaves your throat, and he presses his lips to yours, slips the pads of two fingers over your clit, rubs circles against it. “Is it this? Is this what you want?” You wet your lips, think no but yes, move a hand to his face.

“Can you put your fingers inside me? I want to feel you inside.” Your voice trembles over it, not used to being so direct, not used to asking for what you want, and his answering kiss is deep, wet; he pulls back to look at your face as he presses one finger inside, and you feel your expression shift, from desperate to intensely pleasured, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Hotch, oh.” He pulls it out slowly, nearly all the way, and pushes it back in, rubs your cheek, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Good is an understatement, and you clench around him, slide your hands down his forearms, nod. “Good. It’s okay if you’re just quiet, but if you’re nervous about how you’ll sound, don’t be. I’d like to hear how you’re feeling.” Another reason to feel so good about this—because you are self-conscious of the way you’ll sound, and you should have known he would pick up on it, try to ease your insecurities. You wet your lips, nod, and he moves the finger slowly in and out, adds another when you ask him to.

“Mmm. Mmm.” You bring a hand to your covered breast, squeeze it, and he moves to push your dress up further, to bare it, maybe, but you tense, then instantly feel silly.

“What is it?” he asks gently, running his hand over your stomach instead, and your muscles relax, you sigh.

“Just a little self-conscious… about my breasts—especially after everything I saw downstairs,” you say, huffing a laugh, and he chuckles, nods.

“Miami is a bit much. But you’re so beautiful, sweetheart, just as you are, and it’s clear they bring you pleasure. If you’ll let me, I’d like to take your dress off all the way, touch them… kiss them.” The prospect sounds so tempting—your nipples are sensitive beneath your own hands, but under his? His mouth?

Your breathing picks up again, and you nod, rest your arms over your head so he can pull it up and off. You swallow, trembling and bare beneath him, and he steps off of the bed to push the rest of his clothes off, too; you know you feel vulnerable, so maybe he sensed it, wanted to make you more comfortable? Either way, he is gorgeous, and you’re so grateful to be doing this with him.

“Where are the condoms?” he asks, bending over the edge of the bed to kiss you with a hand on your cheek. You direct him to your bag, and he opens the box, takes out the one he needs, walks back to you; you lean up on your elbows to watch him intently as he tears the package open, rolls it onto his cock. When he climbs on top of you again, when he pushes your knees gently apart and makes himself at home between them, you shudder; you can feel his dick for the first time, hard against your thigh, and he leans in to kiss your throat, your shoulders, and eventually, your breasts.

His mouth covers one, his hand covers the other, and you gasp when his lips close around your nipple, suck softly. “Hotch, oh my god.” You lift your hips, looking for contact, and he removes the hand from your breast, uses it to line his cock up so it can slide over your pussy as you rock against him, wet, perfect pressure, as he pulls your breast more roughly into his mouth, nibbles it.

You arch your back, pushing your chest closer to him, and he moans, slowly glides his hands over your throat, into your hair. He shifts the angle of his hips, and he slips out from between you, making you sigh at the loss. Now that you’ve felt him, it’s maddening to be without, and you wet your lips, touch his face.

“I’m ready.” He leans in to kiss your cheeks, your chin, rubs his nose softly against yours, and you meet for a deep, slow, wet kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Please.” You move your hands to his waist, guide him closer, and he pushes slowly inside, lets you get used to the stretch it brings. It just feels good, not really a new sensation, since you’ve put toys inside before, but he is so much thicker, more satisfying to feel along your sensitive channel, his body warm on top of yours.

“How does it feel?” he murmurs, lips grazing yours, and you curl your hand around the back of his neck, just kiss him, enjoy the fullness and the slide of his tongue.

“So good. You can move,” you say, and your voice sounds strained, but it’s with arousal, not discomfort. You hitch your knees up higher, put your hands on his arms, pull him in so he’ll know that. “Want to feel you, Hotch.” You share breath for a few moments, and then he pulls back and thrusts forward, repeats it a few times, slow and steady, looking into your eyes.

You moan, carefully roll your hips in time with his, and he pumps inside a little deeper, a little quicker. You grip his arms, move your hands to his face, unsure what part of him you want to touch, anchor yourself against. He leans down for a kiss and you press your fingers to his cheeks, kiss him more passionately, less timidly than you’ve been so far. He groans against your mouth, and you pant as your bodies work together; it’s almost instinctual, the need to take him deeper, to meet, thighs hard against each other.

“Are you okay?” he asks, sliding his hands over your sides, hips, and you nod, gasp when he shifts up, gets his mouth on your breast again, kisses it wetly while his cock glides inside. That’s enough to have you moaning, loudly, head back, your hands on his body now, to feel his muscles flex while he thrusts inside you.

“Hotch, oh. Feels so good, I—” He bites down, lightly, just the edge of his teeth, and your legs snap tight against his body, shaking while you come around him. “Oh, oh. Mmm.” Your muscles contract so hard he grunts, your pussy all but trapping him there, and he grinds against you, grips your thighs.

“So perfect. You feel so good coming for me, so tight.” You ride out the pleasure, rolling your hips against his, and when you’re a little looser he thrusts again, slides an arm behind yours, his hand carefully around the back of your neck, kisses you until he comes, groaning, in your ear.

You look up at him as he gathers himself, wets his lips, and you curl around him for a hug; he holds you tightly, rubs gentle palms over your body, murmurs that you’re incredible and he hopes you know that was special. It's the connection you were looking for, intimacy, and you are so incredibly happy you found it, even if you did find it in the unlikeliest of places.

You lay together for a few minutes before he pulls out, ties off the condom, takes it into the bathroom, and then you go in to pee. You look yourself over in the mirror—again, fully aware that losing your virginity changes almost nothing—but you can’t help feeling like a missing piece has locked into place.

If makes you wonder if the missing piece maybe wasn’t sex, but Hotch.

When you head back into the other room, you expect him to be dressed, or at least getting dressed, but he’s laying back on the bed, covers turned down, body still bare—what you can see of him is bare, anyway, because crisp white sheets cling to his waist, make him look only that much more delicious as he waits for you.

You suddenly ache with desire again, touch your chest at the rush of emotion, of sensation, and then you climb on the bed, slip into his lap, kiss him again. This time it’s different, because your lips and tongue are all saying what you can’t, and it’s intimate, passionate, vulnerable, intense.

Except, maybe you can say it, because he kisses back just as furiously, and it translates into something as strong as what you’re feeling, his hands on your face and lower back holding you close.

“I want you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes, and you’re panting hard, desperate for more. “Not just tonight—I want every night to feel like tonight. I know you weren’t planning for anything more than this, but if you like, maybe I could take you to dinner when we get back. We could see if there’s something more?” He looks nervous, like the offer won’t be well received, but you just nod, smile, lean close for a gentler brush of lips.

“I’d really like that. I don’t want to only feel like this tonight.”

You kiss a little more, softer, sweeter things, eventually moving from his lap to curl against his side; the two of you cuddle, talk—it’s not awkward in the slightest, just feels right, and you drift to sleep warm and content in his arms.

Maybe Miami’s not so bad after all.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #ask answered #anon #prompt

721 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 3 years

Note

I wonder what would happen if Y/N had a really bad day and just decided to pick a sibling from the Yan!Todoroki clan like a cat would pick its person and just?? Sit in their lap?? They'd say 'I had a terrible day, no torture today please' before taking their well-deserved nap lookin' all cute and peaceful. Then the sibling would be so proud and confused at the same time but really really happy like 'omg for real? Me? What's happening?? 🥺'. Bonus points if it's Dabi just having the widest grin on his face while staring straight at the rest of the fam seething with jealousy.

I saw your works btw and been inhalin em all cause they're all so good *chef's kiss*

-Vibin' anon

Yandere Dabi comforting sister reader

This is so cute omg. Thank u Vibin anon!

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Dabi:

Shotou had come to pick you up from school today. Even though he had a busy schedule himself, he still made time for you, just like the rest if your family.

"How was school?" He asked.

"Fine."

"Just fine? Wasn't your result supposed to come today?"

You nodded. "It did. I passed."

Shotoy smiled. "Thats great. Did you get your report card?"

You knew he was going to ask for it. You also knew that he already knew what grades you got.

You nodded and handed him the report card from your bag.

Shotou's face lit up when he saw your grades.

"You're first again. I'm so proud of you." He patted your head.

You smiled. "Thanks."

By the time you guys reached home, you already knew that your entire family was home. They always were when your result came. You knew the principal had already informed Enji of your grades, she always does.

When you entered the house, your family yelled "surprise!" You feigned shock as they hugged you and congratulated you on your achievement.

Rei had prepared a little feast for you, everything was made from scratch. Enji was beaming with joy, he was so proud of his little girl. Rei had made your favourite cake, kissing your cheek as you cut it. Enji had gotten you beautiful diamond necklace. Natsuo, Shotou and Fuyumi had gotten you some gifts as well, stuff you had vaguely mentioned about. Dabi wasn't home, but you didn't mind his absence.

Your family had planned to spend the night on the couch cuddling and doing a movie marathon, but when you asked them to excuse you for the night because you were feeling tired, they became a but worried. You reassured them that you just had a long day at school as well, and now that you were stuffed with Rei's delicious food, sleep was inevitable. They nodded, a bit sad that you wouldn't be joining, but understanding nonetheless.

You went up the stairs to your room, and as soon as you closed the door, the smile you had been displaying all night was wiped off.

You sat on your bed and recalled the events of the day. Tears pricked your eyes, but you kept yourself quiet. They're not worthy crying over, you reminded yourself. Still, you couldn't help but crumple up your report card and throw it in the dustbin.

Silent tears fell from your eyes, no longer being able to hold them in. God, its infuriating.

Suddenly, you heard someone knock on your bedroom door. You looked at the clock. 12 am.

Its Dabi.

You couldn't deal with him tonight. You remained silent, hoping he'd leave you alone.

But of course not.

You quickly turned away from the door as soon as you heard it open. Wiping your tears quickly, you heard Dabi come in.

"You brat. Why didn't you answer when I knocked?" He asked, pushing the door close with his foot.

"Leave me alone, Dabi." You were trying hard to stabilise your voice.

"Huh?! Is that anyway to talk to your favourite brother?" Dabi mocked as he pulled at your ponytail. You yelped before turning around to push him away.

Dabi was about to laugh at you when he suddenly noticed the your face. Your eyes were full of tears, lashes heavy with them. Your face was flush, your nostrils flared, your lips in a pulled in a tight scowl. Had you been crying? Or did he make you cry?

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"Just leave me alone." You said as you angrily wiped the tears from your face.

Dabi was shocked to see you like this. He had never seen you cry, not even when he took his teasing a little too far. So, to see you react like this, it worried him a bit.

"Have you been crying? What's the matter? Did you fail or something?" His voice actually held some concern.

You shook your head, pulling your ponytail loose. "Its nothing. Just leave."

Dabi could see the pain in your eyes. What happened? He plopped down on your bed next to you. "Come on. Tell me." He poked your shoulder. "You know I won't leave until you tell me."

"Its nothing, really." You sniffled, avoiding his gaze.

"Did Enji say something?" Dabi asked, his voice taking a dangerous tone. "Look at me. Did he do something?" He's going to kill that bastard if he-

"What? No. God, just go."

Dabi let out a huff. He'll have to use another strategy. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just tell Shotou you have been crying, and then you can answer to him."

Shotou? God, he would just overthink everything and do something stupid.

You caught his wrist just as he was about to leave. "Do you have to be such a jerk every single day?" You glared daggers at him.

Dabi smirked before pulling his wrist away and plopping on the bed next to you. "Yes. Big brother privileges." He poked your cheek. "Now spill."

You looked at him, hoping he'd just get blasted magically. Idiot.

You inhaled deeply before closing your eyes. "Its stupid, really." Dabi stared at you, signalling for you to continue. "Something... happened at school." You paused. "Just a couple of assholes."

Dabi was attentive now. "Go on."

You looked down at your lap, playing with your fingers. "Some kids in my class... they said mean things about me."

"Bullying?" Dabi quirked an eyebrow.

You shook your head. "I- I don't think so. They just said that I only get the highest grade in class because of my dad. Like Enji bribes the school into giving me good marks." You sniffled. "They undermine me. They say I'm not good enough to be in their school, and that the only reason I got in was because of my surname."

Tears dripped down your face slowly, almost as if they were ashamed to fall.

You wiped them away harshly. "And it doesn't matter what I say. I've tried to befriend them, I've tried to get along with them, but they still ridicule me. Its frustrating. They... they don't understand that my only option is to be the best." You whispered the last part, but Dabi heard you loud and clear.

He sat up and gently gripped your chin, turning your face towards him as he narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean 'its your only option'?"

You rolled your eyes. "You know what I mean. I know that no one in the family cares if I get the highest marks or not but...I still have to live up to the family name. What will people say if the number 1 hero's kid is both quirkless and dumb?" Your lips wobbled.

Oh. Ohhhh.

You don't want to let down the Todoroki name; you don't want to let down Enji.

He already knew it was that shithead's fault.

Dabi sighed before pulling you close to him. Placing an arm around your shoulders while his other hand wiped your tears away.

Wanting to prove your worth, that you're a valuable asset to the family. Dabi never thought he'd see himself in you, or his younger self really.

"You're an idiot." Dabi began, carding his fingers through your hair. "You don't have to be the best. You're not expected to. You know, the family knows, hell even I know how hard you worked to get in that school. I've seen how you'd do all nighters, how many times you've turned down going out so that you could do well in your exams. But you don't have to do that." He tilted your chin up, staring into your glossy eyes. "We don't care what the public thinks of us. We won't care if you fail. We don't care you're quirkless. You're not expected to be anything but a good girl." He squished your cheeks together, making you look like a fish. "You just need to be safe. Do you understand?"

You sniffled as you nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

Dabi smiled. "Why didn't you tell anyone before?" You shrugged in response. "You know what would've happened if I said anything. They're already hesitant to let me go to school, this would just give them another reason to homeschool me. Besides, I didn't let their words get to me before, so it really wasn't a big deal." Before? You were about to continue but then kept your mouth shut. But Dabi saw that. He pulled you away from him, his eyes turning sharp as he raised his eyebrows. "But something else happened today as well?"

You averted his scrutinising gaze, keeping your lips sealed as you shook your head no. "Do not lie to me. Or I'll tell Shotou and Enji and then they can handle-"

Your eyes widened. "Do you ever stop making threats?" Rolling your eyes, you told him what happened. "It wasn't anything serious. One of those jerks... thought it'd be funny to try and kiss me. When he tried to force me, I slapped him. Really hard. My handprint still on his face." You smiled at that. "He said the only reason he wasn't using his quirk on me was because I was Todorokis charity case. Then he said that I should be grateful that he was going to kiss me, especially since no one cares about a quirkless, frigid bitch like me." You let out a humourless laugh, but Dabi could see the pain in your eyes. You gave a small smile. "Dont worry. I already know what they said isn't true."

Thats it.

Dabi was already planning murder. He's going to make those little shits pay for what they did to you. The nerve to not only bully you, but make you cry, and then touch you? Dabi is gonna make sure they get tortured in every way possible before he incinerates them-

"Dabi?"

Your soft voice pulled him out of his violent thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Can you... stay the night?"

He looked at your tear stricken face, your eyes were still laden with tear drops, your nose red from all the sniffling.

How could he say no to you? You looked ugly.

"Its okay. You don't have to-" you were cut off by a pillow hitting your face.

"Move over, brat." He climbed in the bed with you, covering you both with the blanket. "And don't put your cold feet on mine." You smiled cheekily at that.

"Don't hog the blanket- why do you need it anyway?"you yanked the blanket.

Dabi pushed another pillow on your face, laughing as you punched his shoulder. "You're insufferable."you mumbled.

It took a while to get comfortable on your single bed, but it ended up with your head on his chest, while Dabi propped himself against the headboard.

"Thank you." You whispered.

Dabi hummed. "Dont think I don't know why you're doing this."

You smiled softly. He caught on to why you were keeping him home that night; you knew he would do something terrible to those guys. "Promise me you won't hurt them?"

Dabi remained silent. You pulled your head away to look up at him. "Dabi. Promise."

When he didn't reply, tears started forming your eyes. He sighed, before shoving your face back into his chest. "Fine, crybaby. I won't hurt them. Promise." You're such a brat, stopping him from doing his big brother duties.

You went back to snuggling him, not taking long for you to finally go to sleep. Once Dabi made sure you were asleep, he pulled out his phone and texted Toga.

"Need a favour. Up 4 stabbing?"

3K notes · View notes

honeypiehotchner · 3 years

Text

Version of You (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

Call 1-800-799-7233 if you think you are in danger/a victim of domestic violence, or visit this website for resources, live chat, and more (for the USA). This is a link to the wikipedia page that has international resources.

(I wanted to put that first because this fic deals with an abusive relationship and some scenes show the abuse. If you relate to any this, please seek help via the resources above. I want desperately to say my DMs are open, but for my own mental wellbeing, I have to let you know that the resources that I give above are about all I can do to help. You’re welcome to DM me if needed, but please know that it might take me a minute to reply, and I still will point you in the direction of resources that can better help you. I love and support and am with every single one of you, but I can only do so much through a screen xx.)

This is 100% a comfort fic, but I am safe and okay, I promise 💛 (Truthfully, this was really therapeutic to write.)

Small note: mental and verbal abuse is depicted here, not physical (though it does come close), but I wanted to remind you that just because abuse isn’t physical doesn’t mean it’s not harmful or real. Mental and verbal abuse is still abuse.

Summary: Hotch helps you find the courage within you to end your abusive relationship for good.

Warnings: depiction of an abusive relationship, verbal/mental abuse, violence (domestic and otherwise), angst, happy ending

Hotch Masterlist

Aaron is stunned and disappointed to find you’re still at your desk when he walks out of his office at the grand hour of 8 p.m.

You don’t even hear his office door open or close, but you do hear his footsteps on the stairs. By the time he reaches your desk to say goodnight, you’re already attempting to cover up any traces of emotion on your cheeks.

But Aaron is a profiler. On top of that, though, he’s one of your best friends. He’s known you for six years now, and given how much time the BAU members spend together on cases, he’d argue he knows every single person here better than they know themselves.

You’d agree. You hardly know who you are anymore. But somehow, Aaron knows. Aaron can see.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, already setting his bag down, already pulling a chair over, already sitting next to you.

You’re ready to tell him it’s nothing, to tell him to get home to Jack, that it isn’t important — but it is.

You’ve been with your current partner for almost eight years. Anyone would hear that and ask if marriage is on the horizon, or children, or something of the sort. But not Aaron. Because Aaron can see the pain in your eyes.

Truthfully, he’s seen that pain in your eyes for the past two years. Maybe more.

But recently, it’s gotten worse. A lot worse.

You’re on a “break” with your partner. Whatever a “break” even means, because you still receive phone calls and texts from them all day. You send the calls to voicemail unless you absolutely aren’t doing anything, and the texts you reply to with one word.

Going home is fine because your partner is gone — for now. Work called them away, so you’re home alone for at least another three days, but you expect they’ll want you to pick them up from the airport.

You’ve never longed for a case the way you’re longing for one right now.

This “break” has been easiest because your partner has been gone. You know if they were here, it wouldn’t have been a break at all.

“It’s made me realize that I...I want a break. A real break.”

“You want to break up,” Aaron says it for you, knowing you’re too afraid.

Your hesitant nod confirms this for him. “I do. I think I really do.”

Aaron has known the relationship hasn’t been the healthiest. You don’t open up about your personal life that much at work — you never have — but it has always been telling that you never go out for drinks with the team. And when you did, you’d have to answer texts every ten minutes. Your partner never accepted an invite to join the team for drinks or dinner, but would often get angry at you for being out, as if you hadn’t tried to invite them.

Raised voices, broken glass. Not a single hand was ever laid on you. No, instead, it was a wine glass your mom gifted to you when you graduated college when your partner was angry that you had gone out for drinks with the team after a difficult case. A coffee mug you gifted your partner for their birthday faced the brunt of their anger when you didn’t reply to a text message fast enough — because you were parking your car in the garage. Plates, picture frames. A coffee table once, three years ago. It had been a house warming present.

But they’ve never hurt me, you always argue — only with yourself. No one knows the truth, that you clean up after their outbursts, that you’re grateful to have some knowledge of first aid so you can tend to your cuts from the broken glass, or so that you could stitch up your partner’s hand with ease, because hospitals are expensive and the excuses you’d have to fabricate even more so.

They always apologize. Which is true. Apologies are frequent in your house. Sometimes verbal, sometimes in the form of flowers either on your desk at the BAU (that only Hotch seems to notice with a sad smile) or left on the counter at home. Sometimes, rarely, a fancy dinner and some gift, usually a necklace.

“If you need any help at all,” Aaron says, looking you in your eyes, carefully, intently. “I’m here. For anything.”

“Thanks,” you murmur. Your stomach rumbles loudly in the silence, making you chuckle awkwardly.

“Hungry?” He jokes, but is half serious. “I was planning to get something on the way home, if you’d like to join.”

You think it over for a moment. Your mind immediately jumps to say no because you think your partner is home...but they aren’t.

“Sure,” you say. “Why not. What’s on the menu?”

You gather your things and Hotch waits patiently, rattling off some ideas for food to eat until one grabs your attention.

Your phone buzzes with a text. Where are you?

Aaron notices your change in posture with a sigh. “Is that them?”

You nod slowly. “Asking where I am.” You quickly type back, Still at the BAU.

The reply is almost immediate, as always. Just checking. Love you.

Relief washes over you as you type back, Love you too.

Aaron doesn’t like what he sees. The panic that surges through you just from a text message, making you stand up straight, hold your breath, clench your jaw. Then the relief that relinquishes you when a reply comes and it isn’t negative for once. The sudden changes, the way your emotions are yanked back and forth. He hates it.

But he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he says, “Ready?” And waits for you to smile.

+++

Hotch really doesn’t mean for dinner with you to turn into somewhat of a routine. But it does.

It’s brought more smiles to your face than Hotch thinks he has ever seen in the past six years. And for that, he doesn’t regret the dinners.

Neither do you, until the worst thing that could possibly happen ends up happening one night, three weeks since the first dinner.

Your partner is going out with friends, so you think you’re in the clear to get dinner with Aaron. And when your partner asks where you are again, you say you’re still at the BAU. You were, but you and Aaron were in the elevator to leave when you sent that message.

The two of you grab dinner at one of your favorite spots, at a table outside because the weather is perfect, the sky is clear, and stars are beginning to show. It’s magical. Until it’s a nightmare.

“Well, well, well.”

The voice sends shivers down your spine. They’re supposed to be out with friends.

Aaron automatically stands, shoulders squared and face set. He’s wearing his gun, and you are, too, but you’d never use it on your partner. You can’t say the same about Hotch, though, and that terrifies you.

“Babe,” you say with a smile, and Hotch tenses, hearing the pet name fall so easily form your lips. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with your friends?”

Your partner crosses their arms over their chest. “And I thought you were still at work.”

“We are,” Hotch speaks up, startling you. “We’re discussing a case.”

Your partner looks around, raising their eyebrows. “I don’t see any papers.”

“Because we went digital five years ago,” Hotch replies coolly. “But aside from that, a federal investigation is none of your business.”

You swallow thickly, waiting for your partner’s reply.

But to your surprise, they only nod. “I understand, sir. I was only checking.”

Hotch holds back a scoff, but instead returns the nod. “If you’ll excuse us.”

Your partner holds their hands up in surrender. “Of course.”

“I’ll see you at home,” you say quickly. “Love you.”

“See you at home,” they reply, making you frown as they turn and walk away.

When you look back at Hotch, you nearly scream. It takes everything in you not to make the hugest scene right there, outside this nice restaurant, underneath these stars.

Your phone buzzes. One hour. Do not be late.

“Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you say quietly. “Just. Don’t, Hotch.”

+++

The next day, you knock on Hotch’s office door, twenty dollar bill in hand to pay him back for your dinner last night. You left in a hurry and didn’t get to pay. Thankfully, at least, arriving home with forty minutes to spare saved you from an even worse reaction from your partner.

“For dinner last night,” you mumble, sliding the twenty across Hotch’s desk. “Thank you.”

As you turn on your heel to leave, Hotch calls out to you. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Aaron says, making you turn back around. “I hope you’re...alright.”

You’re so very far from being “alright” that you almost laugh. Instead, you shrug. “It’s been worse.”

“Did they hit you?”

You’re too shocked to move. “What? No! Why the hell would you even say that?”

“Because I’ve been worried about you.”

“They have never laid a hand on me,” you snap. “Ever.”

“But they’ve come close,” Aaron says gently. “You know they have.”

You only scoff. You feel hurt. Insulted, even, that he would assume something like that. Your relationship with your partner is rocky, of course, but never physical abuse rocky. Never that bad.

But has it come close?

Sure, maybe you’ve felt the wind off a beer bottle when it grazed by your head on its way to the wall. Maybe you have had to duck to avoid getting glass to the face. Maybe.

Maybe they have come close. Closer than you want to admit.

But they’ve also loved you. Held you while you cried. Rewarded you after you cleaned up the broken glass. Left you flowers and jewelry and love notes.

They love you. Don’t they?

“It’s fine,” you whisper, blinking back the stubborn tears that have jumped to the front of your eyes. “They love me.”

“Love isn’t violent,” Aaron replies gently. “Love shouldn’t make you as terrified as I saw you when you left last night.”

“I know,” you choke out. “But I don’t know what to do.”

Hotch is rounding his desk and gathering you in his arms before the first tear slips down your cheeks. He holds you while you cry, letting you get it all out.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers, resting his chin on top of your head. “Don’t worry.”

+++

It all comes to a head a few nights later when your partner springs a question on you. The question.

There, standing in the bathroom, you’re too stunned to speak.

“What d’you say, baby? Let’s get married, you and me.”

You don’t reply. You toss the makeup wipe in your trash can, flick the light in the bathroom off, and walk out into the bedroom.

“Baby?” They ask.

You’re facing the dresser, halfway to setting out a pair of pants for work tomorrow. “I...I can’t.”

“What?” Their reply is immediate and angry. “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t,” you repeat, refusing to change your answer. “No.”

By the time you turn around, they’re standing up from the bed, arms crossed over their chest. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said no,” you say firmly. “I’m not marrying you.”

“And why not?”

“I—”

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“What?”

“Your boss? Are you fuckin’ him?”

“No!”

“Then why won’t you marry me?”

“Because I don’t want to!”

You’ve never raised your voice back at your partner. They’ve always been the one to raise their voice, and you stayed silent, tried to talk them down, be the quiet voice of reason.

But not anymore. You’ve had enough.

“You don’t want to?” They scream. “It’s been eight years and now you don’t want to. You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

“I’m not,” you say through gritted teeth. “But I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Baby…” They sigh, stepping closer, lowering their arms. “Why not?”

“Because,” you reply slowly, backing up. “Just because.”

“That’s not a good enough reason and you know it.”

“It’s good enough for me,” you say. You step to the side and keep backing out into the hallway, getting ready to run if need be.

“Where are you going?” They all but growl. “What’s wrong with you?”

You’re scaring me, you want to scream, but you don’t. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine? Well I’m for damn sure not fine, I’m heartbroken,” they seethe. You see the tell-tale signs that they’re about to get angry — angry enough to start throwing things. You realize in a moment of horror that a paperweight is within their reach.

And they reach for it.

“Don’t,” you murmur, freezing when their fingers wrap around the glass. “Put it down.”

“Why?” They ask, calm as ever. “Don’t you want to see what you’ve just done to my heart?”

You shake your head slowly. “No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, no!” Your reflexes have gotten better since being at the FBI, and you duck right in time. The paperweight crashes against the wall behind you, shattering, denting the wall, and covering the couch in fine pieces of broken glass.

“See what you’ve done!” Your partner screams. “This could’ve been easy! You could’ve said yes!”

You spot your car keys on the counter next to you, and when they turn their back to you to grip at their hair, you slide the keys off and into your pocket.

I have to get out of here. It’s a thought that you never have. Normally by now you’d be vacuuming up the glass on the couch, apologizing every five seconds, pouring them a glass of whiskey or a beer or something. But not now. Not anymore.

You’re a few steps from the door when your partner notices. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Nowhere,” you freeze. “Go take a shower. Cool off. I’ll clean up this mess and then we can talk about this again, okay?”

They almost don’t accept your offer, but after a second, they nod. “There better be a beer waiting on me when I get out.”

“Of course,” you smile.

Your smile makes them suspicious, but they turn and head into the bedroom without another word.

Shaking, you turn to the closet to grab the vacuum, turning it on and beginning to suck up the glass off the couch.

But when you hear the shower curtain pull closed, you escape, leaving the vacuum running.

+++

It’s pouring down rain, you aren’t wearing any shoes, and you’re knocking on your boss’s front door. Can your life get any more pathetic?

When Aaron opens the door, he’s practically hauling you inside and out of the rain.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks, already leading you down the hall toward the bathroom. “You’re shivering, we need to get you out of these clothes — you aren’t wearing shoes, fuck, Y/N, what happened?”

“They asked me to marry them,” you choke out. You aren’t even crying. You haven’t cried yet at all. “I said no. They almost hit me.”

Aaron feels a dangerous surge of anger course through his body. “Did they hit you?”

You shake your head, and it turns into a full-body shiver.

“Okay,” Aaron says, taking a deep breath to ground himself. “Okay, let me get some clothes for you. Do you want to take a shower?”

You shake your head again.

“Okay, that’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

You sit, shivering, on your boss’s toilet for a few minutes before he returns with clothes. A t-shirt and pair of sweatpants of his. Old ones, he says, they don’t fit him anymore. You smile slightly when you realize the shirt is from his college, the sweatpants from his law school. No wonder they don’t fit him anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” you say. “I—I think I left my phone there.”

“It’s okay,” Aaron shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. Just get changed and get warm. Do you want some tea? Anything?”

“Just some water, please,” you murmur. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

After he leaves, you change out of your wet clothes and into his shirt and sweatpants. You carefully hang your wet shirt and shorts over the edge of the bathtub, hoping that’s okay.

You venture out of the bathroom and follow the noise into the kitchen where you find Aaron putting up dishes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, straightening up. “Do you want ice with your water?”

“Um, sure.”

The sound of ice clinking into the glass makes you flinch, and you’re grateful Aaron’s back is turned away from you.

“There you go,” he hands you the glass.

“Thank you.”

You sip it quietly while he goes back to putting up the rest of the clean dishes in the dishwasher. Once he finishes, your heart is still racing, now with guilt from coming here unannounced. What if he was on a date? What if Jack was here?

“The guest room is all yours,” Aaron says softly. “If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

You nod slowly. “I don’t know what to do.” You pause, rubbing your thumb over the condensation on the glass. “But I told them I’m not marrying them. But I...I didn’t tell them I was leaving. Or where I was going.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not. They’re gonna be mad. I can’t— Oh my god, I can’t go back. Not alone, they’ll—”

“Hey,” Aaron shushes you, walking around the counter to get to you. “Don’t worry about it right now. We’ll figure it out. I’ll go with you. You won’t be alone.”

“Thank you.”

+++

The next morning, you and Aaron head into the office early so you have time to grab your go-bag and change into your work clothes that you left in there.

Thank God for having a job like this where it’s normal to have a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, deodorant, and anything else you need in a duffle bag under your desk.

You and Aaron are the first people in the BAU, so you’re able to grab your bag and head to the bathroom to change without any questions. Once you return, you stuff the bag back under your desk and sit down, ready to bury yourself in reports for the day.

But before you can, Hotch calls you into his office.

“What’s up?” You ask when you step into the doorway.

“We didn’t eat breakfast,” he says, and that’s when you notice the two coffees and muffins sitting on his desk.

“Oh,” you chuckle. “I completely forgot.”

“Me too,” he smiles. “Here, sit.”

The two of you eat the breakfast in silence, but somehow you don’t mind it. You’re not in much of a talking mood, anyway.

Rossi arrives next and stops by Hotch’s office, not at all surprised to find the two of you eating together, though he does join with his coffee a few minutes later. The silence vanishes with Rossi, leaving laughter in its wake as he tells old stories about Hotch.

When the rest of the team arrives, they follow the noise to Hotch’s office, and soon you’re surrounded by your family. Your real family.

Once eight-thirty rolls around, you all begin to disperse, back to your respective spaces to start working for the day, and everything feels normal.

And then, in a matter of seconds, it isn’t.

The second your eyes land on your partner standing down in the bullpen, you fall to your knees, scaring the shit out of Hotch.

“What happened?” He blurts, kneeling down to you. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, no, no...No, Hotch, they’re out there.”

Hotch doesn’t need their name. The fear on your face is enough.

About this time, you hear Derek’s voice growing in volume. The most you can make out is, “Put...down…!” And that’s when your blood runs ice cold.

You pat your right hip, hoping, praying, your weapon is magically there, even though you know it’s not. You put it in the safe when you got home last night. You didn’t have time to grab it before you ran out and drove to Hotch’s place. You left it there, in the safe, because you never think twice about it since it’s locked away.

But now…

“Don’t do this, man,” Derek yells. “Put. It. Down.”

“Where is she?” Your partner yells. “Tell me where she is!”

“I’m not telling you shit until you put the gun down,” Derek says, firmly. You’re frozen in place, on the floor next to Hotch’s desk as you listen.

“They have my gun,” you whisper to Hotch. “I didn’t think they— I don’t know how they knew the code, I change it every week, I thought—”

“Hey, hey, don’t worry,” Hotch shushes you. “You stay here. Do not move. Try to get under my desk if you can.” He pauses. “There’s an extra pistol underneath. I want you to grab it just in case.”

You nod, but then a memory of last night grips you. “No! You can’t go out there!” You hiss, gripping Hotch’s arm.

Outside, you hear Emily’s voice adding to Derek’s, trying to talk your partner down. It’s a scene out of a horror movie. Straight from your worst nightmare.

“They already feel threatened by you, they’ll just shoot you the second they see you.”

“Not when they already have five guns on them.”

“Let me come with you,” you offer.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Aaron, I have eight years of experience talking them down. I know what I’m doing.”

Hotch doesn’t like that you’re right.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nod. You’re shaking all over, but you still nod.

“Okay. Crawl over and grab the pistol from my desk. Tuck it in your waistband, on your back. Go now.”

You stay low as you crawl over, finding the pistol strapped underneath his desk on the right side. Once it’s tucked in your waistband, you stand, facing the window. Hotch stands too, with his back to the blinds, and thank God they’re closed.

“Is she in there?” You hear your partner scream. “Is she with him?”

“Shit,” you mutter. “Shit, shit, shit, they’re gonna fucking kill me.” You hate that the possibility is very real. They have your gun. They could shoot you the second they see you. You’re not wearing any protective gear.

“No,” Hotch replies. “I’m not letting that happen.”

“Come out here, you lying bitch!”

Hotch looks ready to kill your partner himself.

“Babe?” You call out, putting on a false tone, the same one you always use when talking them down. “Babe, what are you doing here?”

You step into the doorway, feeling another frozen chill of fear shoot straight down your spine. They look crazed. Insane, even. Worse than you’ve ever seen, worse than last night, worse than the last eight years.

“Don’t babe me,” your partner seethes, but the gun is still trained on Derek.

You know it makes no sense, but you want them to turn the gun on you. Not Derek. Derek can’t be hurt because of you, not like this.

“Put the gun down,” you say, trying to stay calm and sweet, the way you usually have to be at home.

“I’m not listening to a damn thing you say,” your partner yells, and then the gun turns on you. “There he is.” The gun isn’t aimed at you. It’s on Aaron.

“Put it down,” Aaron’s level voice floats through the terror roaring in your ears. “I won’t ask again.” He shifts and you realize then that he has his own weapon trained on your partner.

“You won’t need to. Come out from behind my fiancé you coward.”

“She’s not your fiancé,” Hotch says. “And you won’t shoot her.”

“Want to bet on it?” Your partner lowers the gun slightly, now pointing it straight at your chest. Strangely, you don’t feel any panic surge through you. It’s telling. That even now, your head is telling you, they won’t hurt me, they never hurt me before.

“Don’t do it,” Derek yells. “I will shoot you, man. Don’t do it. You have six guns pointed at you right now. Do you really want to do this?”

The metal of Aaron’s pistol bites into your lower back when you shift on your heels. Your arms are frozen by your side, too afraid to reach for the gun.

“Put it down,” Rossi yells.

“You’ve got five seconds,” Derek adds. “Don’t make me get to one. Five. Four.”

Your partner’s fingers twitch on the trigger. Aaron catches the movement. Nods once when Derek says three. And on two, Derek pulls the trigger before your partner can do it first.

A broken scream rips from your chest when the bullet lodges itself in your partner’s side, your gun clattering to the ground. Derek steps forward and kicks the gun further away, out of reach.

Hotch lifts you around your waist and pulls you back into his office, kicking the door closed with his foot.

You’re numb to everything as he sits you down on the couch, wrapping his arms around you as you finally sob, letting out every scream that you’ve been holding in.

+++

Your partner is taken to the hospital to be treated for the gunshot wound.

Hotch tells you they won’t stand a chance at being acquitted, too many charges looming over their head already without the addition of domestic violence. You hardly hear his words, but you nod like you do.

He takes care of you while the commotion outside struggles to calm down. A blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, you hug a pillow to your chest, sniffling every few minutes as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks. Spencer brings you a mug of steaming tea that you barely manage to thank him for. Hotch thanks him properly for you before softly shutting his office door.

For months, you’ve been thinking about leaving them. For so long, you’ve wondered what life might be like without them. Now, you don’t know a thing.

You don’t know what to do. Where to go. Will you have to testify in court? If you do, will you have to talk about the...abuse? The abuse that you can barely bring yourself to label blatantly as abuse even though Aaron, your brain, everyone screams at you that that’s what it is — abusive behavior.

When you were a teenager, and even in your early twenties, learning about signs of abusive, unhealthy relationships, you never thought you’d end up in one. You thought surely you’d recognize the first signs and get out of there.

But instead, you did exactly what they said most people do. You brushed them off. You thought, oh, they just love me deeply, that’s all. They want what’s best for me, that’s all. They want me to be safe and protected, that’s all.

And that’s lovely, but there’s a difference. Between caring and controlling.

You never thought the difference would be so hard to see.

“Come on,” Aaron’s soft voice pierces through your thoughts. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You blink. “Where?”

“Wherever you want to go,” he replies gently. “Your apartment?”

Immediately, you shake your head. But then you pause. Because aside from your apartment and the BAU, you have nowhere else to go.

“Would you be comfortable going back to my apartment?” He asks. “I understand if it’s uncomfortable. I’m sure Garcia or Prentiss would be happy to let you stay with them, and I’ll gladly send them home with you.”

As much as you love Garcia and Prentiss, you strangely feel more comfortable with Aaron. After all, Pen and Emily don’t— or didn’t know about your partner’s behavior. Only Hotch knew.

“If you don’t mind, I’m...I’m okay with your place.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he smiles. “The guest room is yours for as long as you need.”

That makes you smile, though the expression feels foreign on your lips. “Don’t you have to stay?”

“It can be dealt with tomorrow,” he replies. “The paperwork will still exist tomorrow at eight a.m.”

“Okay,” you accept defeat. “Can I take this blanket?” You don’t like the idea of this weight leaving your shoulders.

“Of course,” he says.

You fall asleep in the car.

You didn’t mean to, but you were exhausted. And by the time you woke, Aaron had already carried you into his apartment. Startled, you gripped his arm a little too tight, but he shushed you carefully, letting you know you’re safe, he just didn’t want to wake you because you were sleeping so soundly.

He set you down on the guest bed where you tried and failed to get some rest last night, but now, you sleep like a baby.

+++

Months after the incident, the guest room at Aaron’s apartment has become your temporary home.

You still haven’t been back to the apartment you owned with your partner — even though their name is on the lease, not yours. You went once with Aaron to pick up your clothes and anything else important, but it was a quick trip. You were desperate to get out of there.

Aaron didn’t like what he saw. The broken glass, the dents in the walls. The way your body language changed immediately. Your unwillingness to return there is fine by him.

It’s a slow, uphill battle as you begin to heal. Your partner still sits in jail, awaiting their trial date. You know you might have to testify, but you know your team might have to be there as well, so that makes you feel better.

Aaron has been incredibly respectful of your space. You were the one who brought up the idea of carpooling to work, one of you driving every other day, to save on gas for the both of you. He had assumed you wanted to drive on your own and always have your car — which is true, but you didn’t mind riding with him.

He’s the only one your terrified brain doesn’t seem to be scared of.

And you’re not complaining. You’re grateful to feel a small ounce of safety after feeling every sense of unsafe for the past eight years.

+++

Your ex-partner’s trial comes and goes in the following three months. You did testify, along with the rest of your team, the verdict is guilty. Life in prison.

You wept on the steps of the courthouse from the sheer relief of it all.

“They’ll never hurt you again,” Aaron had told you and you didn’t believe him for one second.

Still now, as you know for a fact they are sitting in a prison cell, you have a small fear. But you think you always will.

You continue “rooming” with Aaron — that’s the best way you can think to put it — and you’ve come to really enjoy the weekends when Jack comes over. At the start, Aaron would try to take Jack out to the park to give you time alone, or you’d go spend some time with Penelope, but after a while, you started staying. And after a little while longer, Jack started warming up to you, and expecting your presence.

One weekend, you hear Jack and Aaron playing in the living room while you’re in Aaron’s office, trying to get some work done. And halfway through signing your name on a piece of paperwork, you hear Jack “whispering” to Aaron about you.

“Do you like her?” Jack whispers, but it definitely comes across as more of a soft shout.

Aaron’s eyes widen, and he presses his index finger to his lips. “A lot,” he says, but you don’t hear him — though you were straining pretty hard.

“Me too,” Jack giggles. “Is she your girlfriend?” He teases, poking his dad with his Lego sculpture.

Aaron pokes his son back with his own design. “No, buddy, she isn’t.” Again, you can’t hear him, but Jack’s question made your heart hammer in your chest.

You know you’ve had some feelings begin to develop because truthfully, they were blooming months ago, back when you began having dinner with Aaron. But then everything happened, and you still loved your ex, and things got too complicated.

Now, though, seven months out from the start of it all, the feelings are still there.

Aaron hasn’t made any moves, so you’ve kept silent. You don’t know how much of his good deeds are simply out of his own kindness. And you certainly don’t want to mistake it for something it’s not.

But kids pick up on things adults try hardest to hide.

You continue with your paperwork, listening to them continue to play.

It’s not until after Jack goes home to Hailey that his question is brought up, and it’s only because Aaron asked what was bothering you.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it,” he says. “But I’m here if you do.”

He’s always here. That’s what made you have a crush on him in the first place, years ago. He’s always there for anyone who needs him.

“I heard you and Jack earlier,” you start. “When he asked if I’m your girlfriend.”

Aaron sighs. “I’m sorry. I think it’s just confusing for him because to him, living together equals relationship since all he’s known is me and Hailey—”

“I’d like to be,” you interrupt his nervous rambling. “If that’s something you’d like, too.”

He blinks a few times, then smiles. “You…” He pauses. “Are you sure?”

“Aaron, I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything—”

“I’ve liked you for so long and never said anything,” he counters. “You’re serious?”

“Very,” you whisper.

When he kisses you, it’s what you’ve longed for all this time. It’s exactly what you’ve been yearning for. It’s exactly the kind of love you know now that you deserve.

Recovery has been messy, and will continue to be messy for some time, but you’ll have Aaron next to you every step of the way. Always.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #tw domestic violence #tw abuse #criminal minds #version of you song fic #criminal minds songfic #aaron hotchner songfic #version of you #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you

756 notes · View notes

the-lonelybarricade · 3 years

Note

I totally stole this from one of those writing prompt blogs, but can you do Rhys and Feyre going to couples therapy together as a joke when they only just met?

Okay my love, I literally just finished writing this and haven't actually proofread it. It was meant to be silly and jokey but ended up being a bit more serious than I intended, but I'm a sucker for fake dating tropes so maybe I'll continue their story at some point. Anyway here's a modern Feyre and Rhys going to couples thereapy together (whilst not actually being a couple):

Feyre was absolutely determined to prove Nesta wrong. Usually her sister’s grating comments didn’t penetrate Feyre’s hardened demeanor at home, but something about their stint yesterday had thoroughly gotten under her skin. Nesta had a talent when it came to barbed words, so it was the casualness with which she’d said Feyre was boring and predictable that had kept the words ringing between Feyre’s ears. They lacked the usual bite and venom that was characteristic of Nesta, and somehow that made them impossibly worse.

Was Feyre a creature of habit? Sure. But she had always been content with her quiet, unassuming life. They’d grown up poor, with little luxury, and as a little girl Feyre had always believed all she’d need to be happy was paint supplies and enough time to get lost in a blank canvas. Feyre had that now, and she was happy. She spent almost every day in her studio, a paintbrush in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. And that was fine. She may not spend a lot of time with other people, but that was fine.

Routine is fine. Being focused on your career is fine. So why did the implication that her life is stagnant rile her up so much?

Feyre couldn’t articulate what, exactly, had bothered her so much, since she was perfectly happy with the current state of her life. Yet the next morning she’d woken up, vowing to take a day off and spend the whole day being entirely unpredictable.

She was going to pull a Jim Carrey in Yes Man. She was going to seize this damn day. And any voice in her mind that pleaded her to stick to her comfort zone was going to be diligently ignored.

When she set out to get her morning coffee, she ducked into the first cafe she came across without checking the reviews. And instead of ordering her usual chai latte, she asked the cashier to make her their favorite drink. She sat at a booth and sipped it experimentally. It was sweet and tasted of caramel; she decided she quite liked it. So far so good.

She sat wondering what brave venture she should do next, something that would be worthy of telling people about. Something so brash and crazy and unexpected Nesta would eat her stupid, truthful words.

“Mind if I take this seat?”

The voice was like smooth velvet. Feyre glanced up to meet a pair of eyes that were such a deep, peculiar shade of blue they almost looked violet. She was momentarily stunned speechless, which caused the impossibly handsome stranger to lift one of his perfectly groomed brows in question.

“Of course,” Feyre answered, her mouth feeling a bit dry. She quickly took a sip of her coffee to quell this strong reaction her body was having to this man.

She’d been expecting him to take the chair to sit elsewhere, but he slid into the chair at her table, directly across from her. Feyre spared a cursory glance around the cafe. Customers milled about, but there were plenty of empty seats strewn here and there. It was far from necessary to share a table with a stranger.

Her interest piqued, Feyre turned her attention back to this strange, alluring man.

“I’m Feyre,” she said, sounding much more confident than she felt. But today was about branching out of her comfort zone. Making the first move with an attractive man certainly qualified.

“Rhysand,” he answered with a charming grin, extending his hand into the space between them. Feyre accepted it with a mirrored smile, for a moment marvelling at the way his hand completely enveloped hers.

Feyre cleared her throat. “So tell me, Rhysand, what brings you to this table in particular?”

The way he wrinkled his nose was unfairly endearing. “Call me Rhys,” he said. “I only really use Rhysand in a business setting. And I chose this table in particular, because I saw a beautiful woman sitting here and was feeling especially forward.”

Feyre laughed in surprise. “Forward, indeed. Well, Rhys, I have spectacular news for you.”

“And what’s that, Feyre darling?” the suggestive tone to his voice sent shivers down her spine and instantly those warning bells in her mind were blaring. This man was too handsome and he was a complete stranger.

“I’ve decided to do something completely stupid and spontaneous today, and you’re officially invited to join me.”

Rhysand grinned, his eyes flickering with mischief at her proposal. She supposed that should be concerning, too, but she felt her pulse quicken. “And what stupid, spontaenous thing will we be doing, darling?”

Feyre leaned back, trying to regain composure by taking a too casual sip of her coffee. “I haven’t decided yet. I’m open to ideas.”

Across the cafe, a man stood up so quickly his chair tipped over with a loud thunk. Rhys and Feyre both whirled their heads at the commotion.

“This is why we need to go to therapy together!” the woman across from him screeched. “You can’t control your stupid temper!”

“I don’t have time for this shit,” he growled. “I’m not going to sit there for an hour so you can manipulate some dumb bitch into agreeing with you!”

“It’s not about sides,” she groaned. “I want to work through this with you!”

Feyre felt a tug of sympathy at the desperation in the woman’s voice. She could feel her pain and frustration second-hand, having been in similar shoes herself.

“Fuck this,” the man grumbled, storming for the door.

The woman followed after him. “Our appointment is in 10 minutes! Please, let’s just try it.”

The door swung shut behind them. Feyre watched the couple continue their walking argument down the city pavement, gesturing wildly with their hands.

Feyre sighed. “Man, that poor woman. It sounded like she really wanted to work things out.”

“That guy sounded like an absolute ass, maybe it’s for the best,” Rhys said. Then, his eyes lit up and he turned to Feyre with a slow, conspiring grin. “It does give me an idea, though.”

“What’s that?” Feyre felt a bit intimidated by the roguish expression on his face, even if it did make her feel breathless.

“Well, I do happen to know there’s a psychiatrist's office right above this cafe. If I had to guess, that’s where our friends were going to have their first session. And from the looks of it,” he nodded towards the couple, who were now striding in opposite directions through the city, faces flushed with anger, “they won’t be attending.”

“And your point is…?”

“Let’s go in their stead. Make a game of it. First person to break character loses.”

“And what does the winner get?”

“Well, if I win, then I get to take you to dinner.”

Feyre considered for a moment. Dinner with a handsome man certainly didn’t sound like losing to her. “If I win, then I get to use you as a model.”

“You’re a photographer?” His brows rose in interest and Feyre summoned all her will power not to blush. Since when was she bashful about her career?

“Painter.”

Rhysand grinned. “If you win, you can use my body anyway you wish, Feyre darling. Nude would be best.”

And that was how Feyre had ended up in Dr. Suriel’s office, Rhys by her side on the sofa. It was perhaps the most adventurous thing she’d ever agreed to.

“So, Mr and Mrs Mandray. Apologies, I didn’t get your names on the forms.”

“I’m Feyre, this is my husband Rhys,” Feyre answered, thinking it lucky they didn’t have to guess at the mysterious couple’s forenames.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre and Rhys. What brings you to my office today?”

Rhys immediately slipped into his role of the concerned husband. He placed his arm around Feyre’s shoulders and tugged her close. Rhys opened his mouth, then shut it, glancing at Feyre hesitantly.

“My wife and I have been getting into a lot of… disagreement lately,” Rhys answered carefully, and already Feyre thought this was going much better than it would have if the actual Mr Mandray had turned up.

“My husband,” Feyre said flatly, channeling her inner Nesta to put venom into the word. “Is insisting on painting our house purple.”

“I see,” Dr. Suriel says, assessing the displeasure on Feyre’s face. “And I’m assuming you want to paint the house a different color.”

Feyre pressed her lips into a thin line. “See, that’s just the problem,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s exactly the color I would want to paint our house.”

Dr. Suriel frowned. “So you do want the house to be painted purple, as does your husband. Am I understanding that correctly?”

“No,” Feyre sighed. “He wants to paint the house blue, but is insisting we paint it purple, because he knows it’s what I want. This bastard refuses to be anything but accommodating.”

“We’re going to try to refrain from name-calling in my office,” Dr Suriel said calmly. “So, Feyre, you are clearly unhappy that Rhys wants to paint the house purple. What color would you paint it?”

“Blue,” she answered. “I know it’s what he secretly wants to paint it.”

“She doesn’t see the hypocrisy in what she's saying!” Rhys complained. Then, he turned to Feyre, looking impossibly serious. “Darling, I know you want to paint the house purple, and I already told you I’m fine with it.”

Feyre groaned. “I don’t want to paint the house purple! I want to paint it blue.”

“You’re only saying that because you think I want to paint the house blue.”

“Do you?”

Rhys hesitated. “No.”

“Don’t lie in front of our therapist,” Feyre said with narrowed eyes. “We promised to tell the truth while we’re here.”

“Then you tell me the truth, Feyre. Do you genuinely want the house to be painted blue?”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to hesitate. She could see the corner of Rhysand’s mouth twitch as she did so. “No. I mean yes! I do!”

“It sounds like at the heart of this argument, you are both ultimately concerned in pleasing the other person, is that fair to say?”

Feyre and Rhys glanced at each other, then nodded in agreement.

“Do you think there’s a color you could both compromise on, so that you don’t feel as if your partner is the only one making a sacrifice in this decision?”

Feyre met Rhysand’s brilliant violet eyes. In truth, she’d blurted the color purple because she’d been thinking about the color of his eyes. She'd never seen eyes that color, and they were wonderfully vivid. Feyre was lost thinking of painting a world in a monocrhome of violet, like a city that lived within his gaze.

Feyre realized she’d been momentarily swept away, snapped out of it by the humor that washed behind those starry irises. She blinked back the haze and tried to think of an answer to the question.

“Mustard yellow?” she proposed.

Rhys pursed his lips in mock consideration. “Mustard yellow,” he agreed with an emphatic nod of approval.

Dr. Suriel blinked in surprise. “All right, well I’m pleased we could solve that issue. Is there anything else you’ve been arguing about?”

“Yeah, actually. My wife,” Rhys gave Feyre a pointed glance. Somehow, despite being strangers, hearing Rhys refer to her as his wife sent waves of pleasure jolting through her. She felt her stomach flip on itself. “Isn’t satisfied with our sex life.”

Feyre instantly flushed at such an accusation, however fabricated.

“Is this true, Feyre?” Dr. Suriel turned her eyes towards Feyre and she shifted uncomfortably at having to make up stories about her sex life with Rhys. Making Feyre imagine rolling in a bed with him was certainly his goal, and she’d lie to say it wasn’t affecting her. Rhysand looked absolutely delighted to have made her squirm. Fine. Two could play at his game.

“Y-yes, well,” Feyre stuttered, the burning in her cheeks condemning. “I keep telling Rhys that 16 orgasms in a session is excessive. He’s much too generous a lover and he never lets me give as good as I get.”

Feyre felt satisfied with the way Rhysand’s face went crimson.

Dr. Suriel’s brows rose. “This seems to be a common theme in your marriage. Rhysand, would you say that you’re often prioritising Feyre’s desires over your own?”

“I think Feyre sorely underestimates how much pleasure I take from satisfying her desires,” he answered, his eyes flicking to Feyre with enough of a sensual promise that her heartbeat turned staccato.

“Rhys, it sounds as though your generosity is part of the way you express your love, is that safe to say?” Rhys nodded. “And Feyre, it seems as if you have trouble accepting your husband's generosity, both in and outside the bedroom. Do you feel that’s a fair statement?”

“I-I suppose so.”

“Sometimes people have trouble accepting their loved one’s generosity when they feel like they aren’t giving something in exchange. It can be hard to accept that kind of love when we don’t feel like we deserve it. Do you feel like this could apply to your situation?”

Feyre blinked. This was meant to be a gag, something daring and experimental. She hadn’t expected to be psychoanalyzed by Dr. Suriel, or at least for her analysis to hit so close to home.

Rhysand shifted forward on the sofa. “Is this true, darling?” he asked, sounding concerned. He took Feyre’s hands in his own, brushing his thumb along her skin as he met her gaze. “I think you deserve the world.”

She would almost think he was being genuine if she hadn’t met him only an hour ago. Feyre marked the conviction on his face, those burning pools of earnesty in his eyes, and marveled at what an incredible actor he was.

Somehow she ended up blurting part of the truth. “My family life growing up was kind of tough and I’ve never really known what unconditional love was like. I think a part of me still believes it's something I have to earn.”

“That sounds like it must have been very hard, Feyre. But it sounds like Rhys loves you very much, and that this is an issue the two of you can overcome together. When you feel the instinct to reject his generosity, try to remember where that message is coming from. And Rhysand, try to keep in mind that this is something your wife is still working through, and be patient if she feels more comfortable giving you something in exchange. This is her way of expressing love, too. At the core of your issues is both of you thinking about the other person, try to remember this when a breakdown in communication occurs.”

Somehow they’d lost control of their therapy session and were receiving actual therapy, which wasn’t part of the plan at all. But somehow, despite not actually being married to Rhysand, what Dr. Suriel said was reassuring.

Feyre turned to Rhys and smiled. “I think I understand better, now. You’re free to give me as many orgasms as you want, honey.”

Rhys grinned fiendishly. “And I’ll let you reciprocate in whatever way you feel comfortable, darling.”

Dr. Suriel clasped her hands together in approval. “Excellent. I think so long as the two of you take measures to accurately communicate your needs, you’ll find these breakdowns will occur less frequently. And that’s it for our time today, but I am happy to have the two of you back any time.”

Feyre walked out of the session hand-in-hand with Rhys, feeling a bit dazed. It had certainly gotten more serious than she’d expected, but perhaps her judgement had been misplaced in thinking therapy could be anything other than serious, no matter how joking the complaints.

“Well, that was certainly stimulating,” Rhys quipped once they’d left the office.

“And it seems we’re at a draw, considering neither of us broke character.”

“You do play my wife convincingly well,” Rhys practically purred, “perhaps I’ll let you take up the real role, if you feel so inclined.”

Feyre laughed. “I’m expecting a few other offers to come through. Give me a few days to look over the applicants, then I’ll get back to you.”

“Okay, well how’s this. I’ll give you my number, you can wait until all those applicants come back to you, and once you’ve decided that I’m clearly the obvious choice, you can call me.”

Feyre smiled as she pulled out her phone and handed it to him to insert his number. “You do make a very convincing husband. Perhaps I can hire you for weddings and Thanksgiving dinners?”

“Real husband, fake husband, a partner to do spontaneous, outrageous things with. You call me, and I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Feyre.”

It was perhaps the strangest and most generous offer she’d ever been given. When they parted ways, Feyre thought that she’d certainly filled her quota for an interesting story to tell. And maybe, most likely, she’d be calling that number very soon.

#Feysand #prompt fill #pro Rhys #pro Feyre #fake dating kind of #Feysand fic #acotar #acotar fic #ask #not proofread sorry #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

158 notes · View notes

angel-anoetic · 3 years

Note

Hey! 🌿 here, fist thing, you are really gathering an audience now! I'm so proud of you for that. You definitely deserve it. Now for the request but, how about one with Punz were you guys weren't even friends it was just the benefits, and someone takes one if readers canon lives and Punz just /flips out/. Thank you again, you're doing amazing!

thank you so much 🌿 anon! i really can't believe how far i've come so fast. you were my first anon, and i am forever grateful for you trusting me with your requests!! enjoy the fic, i did imply it was kinda spicy, so i hope that is okay- enjoy!! <3

Don't forget to like to save, reblog to share!

c!Punz x gn!Reader - Heavy Minds

genre: /rom, feelings come to boil

warnings: reader death, implied violence, implied nsfw (nothing explicit)

masterlist <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had never considered you and Punz to be friends. Quite frankly, neither did he. You and the merchant had met by chance one day when you and Karl needed some gold. You had tagged along, as you'd never met him before.

"Hey Punz! I was wondering if you could help me."

"Sure, Karl, what do you need?" Karl began to explain what he and the fiance's needed for their new establishment while you poked around the chests that sat in the tower. Then, you went up through the levels and explored what each had to offer.

You were going through a chest on the third floor when you felt a body behind you.

"Dude, Karl, this guy has a lot of shit."

"Yeah, well, this guy has a lot to do." He scoffed—crap, not Karl. You turned and were met with blue eyes as he stared you down.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to come off as bitchy or anything." You gave a small laugh that wasn't returned. He just stared at you, his face void of emotion.

"What are you doing anyway? Snooping around my stuff?" He moved you away from his chests with his body, rummaging through it to make sure nothing had been touched or taken.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "Like I would ever want any of the crap in there." You could feel your emotions getting the better of you, but it was infuriating how he was talking to you like you were just an inconvenience to him.

Something about your tone must've ticked something in him because next, you knew, you were stood against the wall of Punz tower, his arms resting on either side of your head. You both stared each other down, both refusing to let down your guard. Finally, his eyes drifted from your eyes to your lips, licking his own as his hand moved from the wall towards your cheek, caressing it softly.

"Y/N!! We have to get going!" You were snapped back to reality by Karls voice calling from below.

You cleared your throat as Punz backed away from you. Later that night, you went back, and it just continued from there ever since.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that's all you both expected. You'd go over, or he'd sneak into El Rapids, then the next day, you both would carry on with your day like nothing had happened. Sure there were lingering stares, some late-night conversations, but nothing that could ever hold enough substance.

And that's what it was until today.

Sam had shown up at El Rapids at dawn and refused to leave without you, claiming that he had to discuss something of business. He didn't tell you that the businesses surrounded a claim that you had stolen valuable property from the prison.

The old unit where he had kept Ponk ( the day he lost his arm) was still standing, so that where you stood, in a box that Sam had locked you in without any weapons or armor.

"Sam, just let me go! Why would I steal from you, especially since it has to do with the prison!"

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but you know that I am going to need a confession or proof that you're not guilty."

You hit the glass of the box and groaned. "Do I look stupid enough to steal from you and the prison? Really Sam!"

"I don't know, but nonetheless, you might be stupid enough to do it."

You huffed and marched towards the bed that had been set up in the room.

By this time, a few people had started to gather a bit away from where you and Sam were. So not only was this aggravating, but now it was humiliating.

"Y/N, I need something. Now. Or...I'm going to have to do something neither of us wants to happen."

Punz stood watching as Sam talked to whoever was in the box. He walked over to Bad, who had been watching the whole thing unfold.

"What the fuck happened dude?"

"Language. Sam said that Y/N stole something or messed with the prison-I'm not really sure. But it doesn't look like they're getting off scot-free."

You turned back to Sam. "And what are you gonna do about it?"

"I tried to warn you. I'm sorry Y/N" There was a click of a button then a sudden opening in the ceiling.

"Sam, what is that?"

He remained silent. The heat in the room grew. The smell was one you recognized from years of mining, years of visiting the nether.

"Sam, no-no!" Your hands couldn't do enough damage to the windows. The walls that held you in were too strong for your bare hands. The lava hissed against the ground, mere inches from your feet.

"Sam!!" The tears fell fast, the lava inched closer at your skin. Some pops hit your bare skin, sizzling, making you scream out more.

Punz rushed over at the first screams. He looked at Sam, who stood stone-faced.

"Dude, what the fuck! Get them out of there!" He pushed Sam, who stepped back immediately.

"I can't. Until I have proof or a confession." Punz looked back at the box, tears starting to fill his eyes.

He ran to the glass, placing his hands against yours. "Look at me!"

His voice was muffled, but you could still understand him. "It hurts! It's so hot, Punz!" The first inches of lava hit your feet, making you let out a strained scream.

Punz turned back to Sam. "What proof do you need!?"

"Some stuff happened around prison three nights ago. If someone can vouch for them truthfully, I'll know I was wrong."

"I can!"

"How?" Sam scoffed.

"Because...because they were with me. They stayed the night at my place."

Sam looked confused. "Are you lying? Do you-" Another heart-wrenching scream pulled both your attention to the box?

One second you were there; the next, you were gone.

Punz's heart at that moment broke. An unworldly pain shot through his chest.

"You killed them."

"I took one life. They'll be back soon. And free now that you've vouched for them."

Punz didn't need snarky comments right now. He needed to let his pain be known. So he stood up and tackled Sam, knocking him to the ground.

"You son of a bitch! What the hell would you do that!" He threw one punch which Sam narrowly avoided, then another, which caught Sam at the perfect place.

The punches refused to stop. Everything was almost in slow motion for Punz. His fist hit Sam relentlessly. Sams mask was beginning to crack from the blows. He finally pushed Punz off of him.

Punz stood tall as he pulled his crossbow from behind him, pointing it directly at Sam.

"Don't!" Bad rushed over, pointing the weapon towards the sky as the arrow left the weapon.

"He needs to pay-"

"No!" Bad stood in front of Punz. "Stop. This solves nothing. What you can do is go find y/n. Make sure they're okay. They won't be here, more likely at El Rapids. Please, just go, before you end up in more trouble."

"Bad..." Bad's eyes said it all though. Punz knew he was right. Sam was groaning on the floor, desperately trying to hold his mask together.

"Thank you." Punz whispered to Bad before running off towards the direction of El Rapids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this one was kinda...long lmaoo, sry i haven't gotten punz requests for a bit

#c!punz x reader #c!punz x y/n #punz x reader #punz x y/n #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #dreamsmp x reader #dream smp imagines #dream smp x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #🌿#🌿 anon

305 notes · View notes

edenmemes · 3 years

Text

horizon zero dawn starters

❝ you can sense it. you already know you’re going to lose. ❞ ❝ did you want to be alone? ❞ ❝ you wouldn’t be so eager to speak with me if you knew me. ❞ ❝ that will draw attention. we won’t have this place to ourselves for long now. ❞ ❝ it’s a world worth fighting for. not just here. everywhere. ❞ ❝ trying to live up to glorious pasts has a way of getting people killed. ❞ ❝ never celebrate a victory before it’s earned. ❞ ❝ i crave vengeance. do you? ❞ ❝ my comrades weren’t so lucky. i might shed a tear, if they weren’t all cutthroats and cheaters. ❞ ❝ i’ll always have a minute for you. maybe even two. ❞ ❝ you walk on the edge of life and death. i can tell. ❞ ❝ what is a gift but an award you did not earn? ❞ ❝ so many voices to listen to, it must make your head hurt. i promise my voice will be soft and soothing. ❞ ❝ i wish i could borrow some of your courage now. ❞ ❝ i’ve always wondered. are all your kind hunters and fighters, or just a few? ❞ ❝ no one doubts your determination. but you need to rest. ❞ ❝ a bold claim. i wonder if you’ll live up to it. ❞ ❝ why would someone name a knife? ❞ ❝ so you’re alive ! we should celebrate! drinks on me! ❞ ❝ try not to forget me, while you’re out there saving the world. ❞ ❝ when we spoke earlier, you winced, then looked like you were in pain - or frightened. ❞ ❝ i’m really not one for crowds. ❞ ❝ so - how are we gonna do that? oh, wait, i forgot. we won’t. i do all the dangerous stuff. ❞ ❝ i knew there was something about you. hammered from the stuff they make leaders out of. ❞ ❝ no matter what happens, i will not intervene. do you understand? you are on your own. ❞ ❝ it’s always a pain in the neck when you show up, girl, one way or another. ❞ ❝ you’re bleeding, let me have a look. here, hold still. ❞ ❝ just don’t think this means i enjoy it. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to jinx it, but we might be in the clear. ❞ ❝ when i start a fuss, i like to finish it. ❞ ❝ i promise to look solemn at your funeral before i hit the bar. ❞ ❝ what could go wrong? turns out, a lot. ❞ ❝ let me come with you! i won’t be a bother. i know how to stay out of sight. ❞ ❝ now i’m supposed to fill ____’s shoes. and instead, here i am, stumbling around in them. ❞ ❝ we need to talk - alone. and you need to pull it together. ❞ ❝ i guess growing up means putting what you should do in front of what you want to do, right? ❞ ❝ oh, are you going to shut your mouth now? because that would be a surprise. ❞ ❝ i will come to you in secret. no one will see me, so i won’t get in trouble. ❞ ❝ it looks like something chewed you up and spat you out. ❞ ❝ these are the true wilds, with threats unlike any you have ever faced. ❞ ❝ that moment the door opened and you were standing there, and the way you smiled... i had to look away or you were going to see. on my face. what had just... blossomed inside me, you know? ❞ ❝ i’m not afraid of you - i’m not afraid of anything. ❞ ❝ stop being evasive? you might as well tell me to stop being charming. it’s impossible. ❞ ❝ what a waste. at least he died better than he lived. ❞ ❝ i’ve been looking up at the stars a lot, and the only story i see written across them is that we are small and insignificant and will soon disappear with hardly a trace left behind. it’s a hard story, and i don’t like it much.. ❞ ❝ if i’m going to stand for something, it’ll have to be something i believe in. ❞ ❝ the strength to stand alone, is the strength to make a stand. ❞ ❝ soon it’ll all seem familiar. like home. ❞ ❝ now i see that i was just lucky to get a minute of your time. ❞ ❝ i know my duty to them - and to you. i’m here. and wherever you go...i will follow. ❞ ❝ you're really good at making it impossible to like you. ❞ ❝ i’ve missed our little talks. ❞ ❝ will change happen at all, while men live in palaces? ❞ ❝ confidence is quiet. you’re not. ❞ ❝ you’re not a very convincing liar. ❞ ❝ i already have all the friends i need. i don’t need the bother. ❞ ❝ all right, cool your fire. i got nothing to hide. ❞ ❝ i see you don’t recognize me. well, it was a long time ago. ❞ ❝ you will turn back - or bleed. your choice. ❞ ❝ when we met, i thought i was a big shot talking to a pretty girl hidden away in the middle of nowhere. ❞ ❝ you would speak ill of the dead? truly you have no shame. ❞ ❝ truth is, i get lonely once in awhile. there. i admitted it. don’t think less of me. ❞ ❝ do you have any idea how dangerous it is out there? ❞ ❝ but i don’t know anyone here. ❞ ❝ come on, stop. you’re going to make me tear up. ❞ ❝ i feel like i should drop to my knees and worship you. ❞ ❝ think i’m done? think again. i’ve gotten out of worse scrapes. ❞ ❝ it’s hard to imagine where we’d be without you - and i don’t want to try. ❞ ❝ if we’re to fight together on the brink of life and death, i’d prefer to do so with your forgiveness. ❞ ❝ trust is for fools. it shifts and crumbles like sand. ❞ ❝ what will you do while i risk my life? ❞ ❝ you can smile, can’t you? ...no, that’s a grimace. ❞ ❝ you killed that demon...pulled its guts from the carcass! ❞ ❝ the sooner you’re gone from here, the better. ❞ ❝ for now, all you need to know is that i’m a whisper of reason in this howling pit of insanity. ❞ ❝ i heard the rumors, but i didn’t know for sure until saw you just now. i’m glad to see you’re okay. ❞ ❝ no barrier can now stay you from your sacred task. ❞ ❝ i won’t deny i risked your life. but it was the only way. ❞ ❝ they can’t shoot if they’re dead. keep them busy, i’ll find an angle. ❞ ❝ comforts are weakness. ❞ ❝ as for honor, sacrifice-- true sacrifice, the kind rulers know nothing of -- it’s all a fat joke. ❞ ❝ i’ve been sharpening my blade, anticipating the scent of the fight. ❞ ❝ you’re not just a traveler. that armor was fitted for you. and the way you hold your bow... ❞ ❝ i’d expect to see some tomatoes fly, maybe rocks. hopefully not spears. in any case, be ready to duck. ❞ ❝ i’m not here for the price on your head. ❞ ❝ for a moment, i was a child again, rapt from stories told by hunters at the campfire. ❞ ❝ this...attachment to me will only hold you back. ❞ ❝ whatever you do, don’t let their shabby looks fool you! they’ll kill you as soon as look at you. ❞ ❝ i’m doing what i love. and what could be wrong with that? ❞ ❝ when the arrowhead passes between armor and skin - that’s the place i belong. ❞ ❝ right. why would i expect an answer? it’s so much more exciting to keep it all a mystery... ❞ ❝ oh, it’s a story all right, but it takes a while to tell. maybe another time, over a drink or three? ❞ ❝ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ❞ ❝ i’ll wager you don’t scare easy - it’s a good quality. ❞ ❝ there will be people celebrating, and feasting. more than you've ever see in one place. ❞ ❝ i didn’t bring you here to answer questions. i brought you here to deal with that. ❞ ❝ ...you’ve...put a lot of thought into this. ❞ ❝ i do not want to hear this talk from you again. doubt is heavier than a week’s snow. ❞ ❝ bandits are drawn to here like infection to a wound. ❞ ❝ i guess you’re doing the right thing for the wrong reason. ❞ ❝ i thought you and i were agreed: only enjoy the killing as much as the challenge. ❞ ❝ rumors spread like blood. ❞ ❝ they would steal from us, chase us through the night, laughing. ❞ ❝ leave it too long, your fingers itch for the bowstring. ❞ ❝ you’re strong, shrewd, capable... i could use someone like you on my side. ❞ ❝ you defeated it? alone? ❞ ❝ grasp your grief. and kill it. ❞ ❝ at least i’ll have a fire to keep me company. ❞ ❝ only survivors scar. after everything you’ve been through, you keep going. ❞ ❝ just stop being evasive and tell me who you really are. ❞ ❝ i don’t mind putting my worthless ass on the line. but not yours. ❞ ❝ i’m not here to intrigue you. ❞ ❝ how about you? who do you think i am? what will you remember of me? ❞ ❝ everything freezing. the ground, the air... me. ❞ ❝ you lost someone you care about. that leaves a wound. the sort of wound a lot of people don’t recover from. ❞ ❝ the only thing i know i’m still fighting for is...you. ❞ ❝ i didn’t earn this mercy, but i will die to make myself worthy of it. ❞ ❝ to say you have my gratitude feels woefully insufficient. you saved my life. ❞ ❝ makes you wish you could kill them more than once, doesn’t it? ❞ ❝ why did you act so strange when we spoke earlier? ❞ ❝ being smart won’t count for nothing if you don’t make the world a better place. ❞ ❝ to serve a purpose greater than yourself...that is the lesson you must learn. ❞ ❝ if a big, meaningful talk is what you’re after, move along. ❞ ❝ that carcass! what sort of beast was that? ❞ ❝ what are you doing out here all alone? where are your men? ❞ ❝ you’ve obviously heard of me. you know what i’m capable of. why do you think this will turn out well for you? ❞ ❝ there’s so much to discover before the world ends. ❞ ❝ i couldn’t wait to see you again. it’s like...i’m dead and only come alive when i’m here with you. ❞ ❝ some even say you have a conscience. how extraordinary! ❞ ❝ do you always accuse people you’ve just met of lying? ❞ ❝ if you ever visit, look me up. i’ll show you around, make introductions. it’d be a whole new life, if you want it. ❞ ❝ it had a name once, not that it matters now. i was born there. ❞ ❝ i always knew you were different... i think you’re a blessing. ❞ ❝ no one hears your prayers anyway. ❞ ❝ this place is difficult even for the prepared. ❞ ❝ i underestimated you. i won’t make that same mistake again. ❞ ❝ oh. is that supposed to sound scary or something? ❞ ❝ look, maybe i shouldn’t say this, but it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this... backwater. ❞ ❝ were you kept hidden away? did you have overprotective parents or something? ❞ ❝ hmph. don’t go soft on me. ❞ ❝ i prefer the company of spirits. or my own. ❞ ❝ blood spilled calls for blood spilled! if the ground is cursed, then let our vengeance sanctify it. ❞ ❝ so many people here, all talking at once. how does anyone think? ❞ ❝ why is it that every time something bad happens to you, someone else tells you something bad that happened to them, as if that makes it any better? ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen armor like yours. ❞ ❝ the wrongness here jags at me like an arrowhead. ❞ ❝ when you found me, i was trying to eke out a glorious death. but now a glorious life seems more preferable. ❞ ❝ tomorrow, may the sun rise on the world. ❞ ❝ you saved my epitaph from being ‘a fine soldier but a fool of a man’. ❞ ❝ i don’t think i know you at all. but i’d like to. ❞ ❝ i don’t like this. it feels...wrong. ❞ ❝ oh, i’m grateful for this wound. it’s a lesson i won’t forget. ❞ ❝ you’re a clever one. but not so clever as to heed my warning, i see. ❞ ❝ not everyone follows the law like you do. ❞ ❝ how many times have i pulled you from danger by your neck? made excuses for your behavior? ❞ ❝ for what it’s worth, i’m glad you’re coming with me. ❞ ❝ what have i ever given you but struggle? ❞ ❝ it’s starting to feel real, you know? that we might actually get out of this place. ❞ ❝ i’ve never been part of anything. i serve my own interests. always. ❞ ❝ i apologize for my...behavior. i thought i was dead. ❞ ❝ look, i don’t even know your story. must be a good one. if you ever feel like telling it, look me up. ❞ ❝ when my anger has thawed, i will feel nothing. ❞ ❝ i can’t remember when i had this much fun! i should be thanking you! ❞ ❝ you gave him a quicker death than he deserved. ❞ ❝ that...could be the last creepy thing you’ve said to me. ❞ ❝ something’s really bothering you. if you think i’m gonna abandon you, you’re wrong. ❞ ❝ surprised you saw me, the way you keep looking every other direction to make sure no one’s watching. careful there, or you’ll sprain your neck. ❞ ❝ remember how the blood pounded in your ears? they’ll ring later, in the calm. it’s a call to arms, from your inner desires. ❞ ❝ ___’s dead. i was ready to go through anything to make that happen. and i did. ❞ ❝ is there a reason why you’re acting so cranky today? ❞ ❝ you hold your grief close, like a tailsman. ❞ ❝ i hope you can find peace. ❞ ❝ you don’t know who i am, do you? ❞ ❝ you know there’s always been dirt on my hands. now there’s blood too. ❞ ❝ i want to be strong like you. but... ❞ ❝ i hadn’t given up on hope, but i’ve forgotten the taste of it. ❞ ❝ just...don’t start singing again. ❞ ❝ you’re sparing me? after all i’ve done? ❞ ❝ i don’t intend to die today. ❞ ❝ it will take many good deeds to make up for the crimes you’ve committed. ❞ ❝ but why should you have justice, and not me? ❞ ❝ such a voice... a cold, awful jangle that scrapes your bones and hollows your guts. ❞ ❝ one more word, and i’ll throw you in jail myself. ❞ ❝ only in the struggle against death do we find, even for a moment, the spark of life. ❞ ❝ the war changed you. changed us both. we’re not kids anymore. ❞ ❝ i can’t sleep, i can’t breathe knowing you could be out there...hurting... ❞ ❝ now i’m left to wear my sins. for me, at least, they hang heavy. ❞ ❝ but what does a girl like you know of loss? ❞ ❝ it’s a good thing you’ve got brains. because your personality could use some work. ❞ ❝ i was going to ask you to leave with me...to go somewhere out in the sun where no shadow could reach us. ❞ ❝ they didn’t need to disgrace my name. i did it myself, serving a rotten throne. ❞ ❝ you don’t approve? well, i have a secret for you. neither do i. ❞ ❝ perhaps you are not an evil man. just a weak one. ❞ ❝ losses can feel... overwhelming. but they remind us of our connections to others. ❞ ❝ i don’t exactly see anyone beating down the door to spend time with you. ❞ ❝ if i had known, i would never have spoken to you. ❞ ❝ forge a new life. one of better make. ❞ ❝ impossible odds, fine company, killing without consequence --- how could i resist? ❞ ❝ look at me. i can’t imagine how you’re feeling, but you don’t have to go through it alone. ❞ ❝ i wish i had known, all this time, what you were going through. ❞ ❝ i’m with you. until the end. ❞ ❝ i thought you just wanted to have tea and conversation! is there a battle coming? i wasn’t informed! ❞ ❝ we’ve only met a few times, and yet you know me so well. ❞ ❝ are you going to drive me off, too? it’s okay. i’ve dealt with worse. ❞ ❝ now i know the kind of person i want to be, watching you. ❞ ❝ it’s so...bittersweet. like a smile through bloodied teeth. ❞ ❝ i swear i saw my ancestors... they said: ‘we’re not surprised to see you here’. ❞ ❝ more mercenaries? what kind of person sells their loyalty? ❞ ❝ keep moving or you’ll die! ❞ ❝ this is the kind of place you’d take someone if you want to lose them forever. ❞ ❝ if that’s destiny, i wouldn’t wish it on anyone. ❞ ❝ i’ve thought about what you said. every time, the wound you gave me caught on my ribs. ❞ ❝ i’ve never seen such disregard for personal safety. ❞ ❝ the most important thing is what you’re not like - your father. ❞ ❝ i’m never lonely where there’s killing to be done. ❞ ❝ my past - and my secrets - are my own. you’ll do well to remember that. ❞ ❝ only to you do i extend the courtesy of a warning. ❞ ❝ if the war’s not over, i’m not done. ❞ ❝ a long kiss, the best kind... i can still remember the feel of your hand on the back of my neck. ❞ ❝ it would be a worse fate to bow our heads to the challenge and say, ‘too much’. ❞ ❝ let’s not say farewell. i’ve had enough of that to last me a dozen winters. ❞ ❝ have your wounds even had time to heal? ❞ ❝ you can stop worrying. the secret’s safe with me. ❞ ❝ just to be clear, i have no plans to murder you, alright? ❞ ❝ you’re an idiot. a dangerous idiot, but an idiot. ❞ ❝ i’m kicking myself for not seeing your potential from the beginning. ❞ ❝ for your sake, you must go where you will never find me. this is goodbye. ❞ ❝ so that’s what this is? a tantrum? a cry for attention? ❞ ❝ change won’t come in a single sunrise. ❞ ❝ this place may not seem like much, but we’ll make the best of it. ❞ ❝ no murderers here, if that’s what you’re asking. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #i'm playing through this game again !!!! & this time im rlly taking it all in

795 notes · View notes

kyoomiii · 3 years

Text

♡ Kiss and makeup [hcs]

- ➣. . . ❝ Hey bby ~ ive got a request if its alright! A scenario for making up after a fight with Oikawa please! Tysm! 🤍🤍 ❞

― 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @ anonie ―

- ✎ 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 ❝ oikawa, atsumu, and sakusa ❞

- [ 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜): heavy mentions of fighting/arguing ]

- ⚘ 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 ❝ fluff, angst ❞

❝ hi everyone, i’m not dead- c: ❞

-yoomi ♡

Reconciling with Oikawa takes time

He has a lot of pride and often refuses to admit he’s wrong

Hates apologizing first, but will begrudgingly do it if he has to

It may take time but when he does come to you, he comes to you completely raw and vulnerable

He’s someone emotional and speaks with his heart when it really matters to him

Overall, he’s stubborn and prideful, but at the end of the day he recognizes that none of it is worth losing you.

After making up he’s very clingy and wants to spend as much time with you as he can.

Expect lots of love and tears because he will cry if you cry, and even if you don’t he will still cry

.·:·.☽✧☾.·:·.

The little tap that comes from the window pane is the only thing that draws your attention at this time of night. Turning your head to look at the clear glass, you’re thoroughly surprised to see Oikawa’s face, his cheeks slightly puffed out as he struggles to hold himself up against the window sill.

You’re quick to hop up from your bed, rushing to open your window as you hurriedly wipe away the trail of tears that have stained your face for the past 2 weeks. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him or that you weren’t happy to see him. However, while that may be so you were still mad at him.

“What are you doing here Tooru.” You huff, arms crossed over your chest as you try to uphold your stern exterior.

“I came to apologize-” He freezes, eyes squinting as he scans your appearance with nothing but the small glimmer of the moon, “Have you been crying?”

Eyes wide and mouth almost agap you frantically shake your head, “No.”

Oikawa feels his chest tighten, guilt consuming his entire being as he takes in your exhausted appearance. It’s pure instinct, but he feels himself reach out to brush your cheeks, the slight tenderness left after so many spilled tears only breaks him further.

“I’m sorry y/n… You’re sad because of me and I promised myself I’d be the reason why you smile.” He scoffs, disappointment in himself evident in the way his eyes stare into your own. Crystal like tears welling up in pools of chocolate.

Sighing you offer him the best smile you can muster, “I will always be worried about you Tooru. You push and push until you can’t take anymore and it scares me. I know volleyball is something you love, and I support you in your goals. But you have to know your limits.”

His tears finally spill, painting his cheeks in clear streaks, “I’m sorry…”He chokes out, the longing and desperation seeping into every word.

“It’s okay.” You hum pressing a kiss to his forehead, “I forgive you.”

...

“-Now that you guys are finished can you please get off my shoulders Shittyawa.”

Through grateful tears and a snotty nose Oikawa glances down at his best friend who is currently supporting said setter on his shoulders.

“Way to ruin the mood Iwa-chan you brute.”

“Shut up.”

Atsumu is childish to say the least. He has pride, and much like Oikawa he doesn’t like admitting he’s wrong

Arguments are one thing, but when Atsumu fights he fights with his whole being saying what he thinks only to feel guilty later

Him and Osamu argue and fight a lot, and when they apologize it’s always indirect or silent

He’s use to quickly sweeping things under the rug because of that

At first he kind of expects it to be the same with you, until he realizes that simply isn’t the case

Nevertheless it’s still pretty easy to make up with him because he’s not one to hold grudges. Plus he’s clingy and would probably die without constant affection

.·:·.☽✧☾.·:·.

Atsumu can’t help but wonder exactly how he had gotten into this position. Perhaps it’s his knack for being an asshole, or maybe it’s the jealousy he feels towards other guys despite the fact that he has fangirls trailing after him like lost puppies. Nevertheless, he finds himself missing your presence, craving your touch and attention.

“What do ya mean?”

“I said no Atsumu.”

He’s confused to say the least, why won’t you hold him? Are you still mad? It’s been awhile hasn’t it?

“y/n… Are ya really still mad?”

“Yes I’m still mad Atsumu, what you said really hurt me.” You can feel it bubble within you. The frustration and the hurt that has lingered, harbored in your mind for days on end, “I don’t care much for your jealousy. But it's the fact that you think our issues can just be pushed aside. You always ignore the problem, and I’m tired Tsumu… I’m tired.”

Your words set his body ablaze. Atsumu feels breathless as he hears the slight choke of your voice. He reaches out to you, uncertain in his touch as the pads of his fingers meet your uniform. His fingers grasp the fabric, desperate in the way that they curl so tightly around your shirt.

You miss him, you really do. His touch, his smile, his antics. Miya Atsumu’s presence is addicting and you find yourself craving him everyday, even more so now that you’ve spent so much time pushing him away.

“I’m real sorry y/n- I really am. I pulled a shitty ass move and I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I just-” He inhales tilting his head back to hide away the tears that build in his eyes, “I’m an ass and I know that so If you’re done with me, I’ll respect your choices...”

Fighting with Atsumu isn’t an entirely rare occurrence but you always find a way to reconcile. However, this time feels different. A blooming fear settles itself in his chest. The thought of you leaving terrifies him, but for once he lets go of his ego, his pride. If it’s what you want he’ll live with it. Just as long as you’re happy.

Sighing, you turn to look at him, “I’ve missed you Tsumu.” You hum softly as you gently place your hand on his cheek.

Atsumu leans into your touch, basking in your warmth, as he feels a rush of relief flood through his body, “I’ve missed ya too baby…”He feels like he can breathe again, his body slumping against your own in his moment of shock.

“You’re such a jerk you know?”

“Only yer jerk- I really do love ya y/n.”

“I love you too Atsumu.”

Much like Oikawa and Atsumu, apologies take time with Sakusa

Not because he refuses to admit he’s wrong, but simply because sometimes he doesn’t know nor does he realize that he’s being a bit much

It takes time for him to register that he’s being an ass, because while he can be a bit dense he’s not completely oblivious

Reconciling is a quiet, long, and slow process, neither one of you knowing how to approach the other

But nevertheless, both of you are still there quietly mending things as you go

Though it’s a frustrating process. You don’t know where either of you are standing. It’s one big mystery that lingers in the form of tension as you sleep with your backs to one another

Touches filled with longing and days of silence grow tiring. One of you has to crack before things return to how they were

.·:·.☽✧☾.·:·.

Sakusa knows he’s not the easiest person to be around, and that only makes him that much more grateful that you love him so willingly, so easily. It makes him feel full, filled to the brim with the warmth that you give him.

So at first, he doesn’t understand why you turn your back to him, why you won’t look at him, why you don’t speak to him properly. You’re there but you're not, and he admits he��s the same. It’s straining. Both of you are physically there, but it feels so empty and lonely, like falling into a void of nothing.

He misses you, more than he knows how to say. Especially now as he watches you get ready for another night of silence.

And he’s right, the room falls into a daunting quiet. The tension in the air is so thick it’s almost suffocating. His body aches to hold you close against him- the only person he feels comfortable embracing so dearly.

“Do you plan on staying so far away?” The sudden break of silence is almost startling. It leaves your body tense, even Sakusa himself is shocked.

“I don’t know Kiyoomi…” And you really don’t. Granted even if you are upset with him you can’t bring yourself to resent him, you know you would be lying to yourself if you said you did. However, at the same time you don’t know if you could let yourself cave so easily.

Sakusa acts faster than he can think, shifting to face your back. Hesitantly, he reaches for you. Fingers delicately brushing against the fabric of your shirt, “I’m sorry.”

It’s overwhelming, all the emotions that flood through your very being. Your body begins to shake as you’re racked with tears, quickly turning to bury yourself in his much needed embrace, “I’m sorry too Omi.” You sob, soaking his shirt much to his distaste- though he can’t bring himself to comment.

And you stay like that for the rest of the night. Basking in the warmth of one another. Holding on so tightly as if to make up for lost time.

He wonders how he was lucky enough to find someone like you.

517 notes · View notes

henqtic · 3 years

Note

Can you do a draco x reader with us watching a film and reader saying how they’re crushing over a certain character

𝘭𝘦𝘰’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k (1674)

authors note: just pretend that the battle of hogwarts never happened— that event ruins everything :/ and thanks for requesting !! it made me get a lot more inspiration to finish my other wips <3

masterlist. // taglist form. // request more works.

—————————

the room smelled of freshly buttered popcorn, soft drinks, and unhealthy snacks and for the same reason the night celebration was in place, strong mint gum. tonight was cleared, a time for you and draco to just relax, cuddle up within each other and have a break from everything going around.

the years after graduating a boarding school were life changing, even wizards themselves who could conjure up almost anything they’d ever want or possibly dream of but still, it was the time of realization for who and what you wanted to be.

and yes, there were the newts but they didn’t help much once you really got a look into the real world. many had found a passion in something that seemed wondrous— more fun. traveling and exploring the world, maybe even discovering more mystical creatures that hadn’t been learned in a simple care of magical creatures class and weren't seen in their own time because their parents didn't have the resources.

and some were set on everything but those test scores, a family business awaiting their sole airs take over and draco well, he was a part of that some. and surprisingly enough, even after all that time and all of those expectations set on him to live up to and stay in his family standard, he didn’t, and it was much to your encouragement.

his interest in healing sprung up in his last year of schooling coming to the conclusion that he’d been a prejudiced bully— not that he hadn’t already known that but, of course he did. but once he was left with less than five friends and a girlfriend who was steadily distancing herself further and further away from him, it set in.

so that’s where it started, him identifying nearly all of his mistakes and attempting to heal what had been broken relationships— which most never really did. but it was a change, and a good one at that, it brought him an inner joy, not for the factor of him getting things out of it like you wanting to be in his company more often but that he was mending the seemingly unfixable things.

it made him want to do that and not run a stuffy business that didn't do much but treat their workers poorly and customers even worse so he turned to medicine. observing how so many things lined up with potions, adding the right amount of this, and crushing that up the right way, to make a final product. a product that would soon heal the injured and bring a great smile to both of their faces.

but what he hadn’t realized was that being a healer took time and hard work— almost unusual to someone like him, being constantly handled things and easy ways out but with this, there was no fast tracking or getting anywhere if you didn’t have the right skill set or talents.

so to say he wasn’t ready for it would be a wrong statement. but to say he was exhausted, completely drained of all energy would be completely right. even after all of your cheering on, reminding him that it was only a few more months of studying and one big more test until he’d get to know if he earned his title of healer malfoy.

and usually, that worked, but after tonight after taking that so called big test, his mind was racked with anxiousness. if he didn’t pass, his father would be on his back, telling him how it was a waste of money and how he should've listened to him to that you’d even be disappointed in him— unlikely but as said before, there was nothing but anxious thoughts and anxious scenarios coming through.

so it was painfully clear that your natural remedies wouldn’t work, countless amount of neck kisses and back rubs and muscle soothing not sufficing so you both agreed on the last thing you couldn’t think about, a simple night with the television on, just in each other’s company to try and get his mind off of things—

“you said this was a muggle film, correct?” he called out for confirmation, eyeing the packaging of the movie you called.. the titanic?

“mhm, one of my favorite movies, i just know you’ll love it,” you said from the other side of the living room with a wide smile on your face, near close to beating a cheshire cats. the movie itself was beautiful, you couldn’t lie, the directing and acting brought tears to your eyes almost every time you watched it.

but there was ‘something’ else that could bring tears to your eyes, a gazing stare at the screen whenever his parts would come on.

draco handed you the plastic, allowing you to remove the disk and insert it into the dvd player. you quickly made your way back into the make shift bed made out of blankets and pillows and once the black screen turned green, copyrighted warnings started, you tucked yourself into his awaiting arms.

“why’d you say you loved this again?” he asked for the second time, limbs wrapped around your body as you searched for a response.

“umm, really eye catching.”

and yeah, of course, you were comfortable with him, growing up going to the same school for months at a time and then dating for a good fraction of those years. there was also the memory of a night where you two tirelessly played a game of dare or dare, multitudes of dares coming both your ways to say the most embarrassing, weird, or even azkaban worthy things you’ve done.

but it was something else telling him that you were crushing over a fictional character— who wasn’t even that since the story was true but you were crushing on the actor of that said fictional character that you had no chance with and that, well it was something better left unsaid.

and as it went on, he could see that too, the way your eyes were stuck onto the screen the other blonde was in frame— on the break of amusing how’d the only time your attention would shift is when he’d reach you another piece of popcorn, you offering a grateful smile before focusing back.

your mouth was slightly agape, opening for another piece just how the rhythm had been going, him eating one, him feeding you one, him eating one and so on but now he was beating it further and further away from before your body eventually gave up, falling on his chest.

“hey, why’d you that?” you groaned, annoyed that you were now looking at him from below instead of watching the film.

“why’d you say you picked this again?” his eyes were narrowed down at you, a sly smirk in place. you moved around, trying to remember your excuse and hide the growing smile arising to your face.

“I already told you, it’s eye catching.”

“no,no,no, who’s eye catching?” he asked again, this time correcting himself in order to get a more truthful response. you let out a half embarrassed, half astonished laugh before answering—

“if i tell you, you can’t laugh.” all he did was raise his eyebrows at you, positioning you on his lap, signaling for you to go on with two taps of his finger on your thighs.

“okay well—” you paused, a loss of words and a huff following, “all i’m saying is if jack were to run me over... i’d be the one to apologize.”

your tone of seriousness only made the barks of laughter from the boy underneath you louder, a small pout coming on your face as a response trying to not end up laughing at yourself—

“jack, are you serious? he’s one of the most basic people i’ve seen,” he said through breaths of air, slight tones of jealousy coming out making your head turn in feign sympathy.

“you do know that i’m dating you, right?”

“yea and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“your eyes are blue and hair is blonde and you’re the typical skinny wh—” you started, responding to his defensiveness in the best way possible.

“it sounds like you’re just describing him.” point completely missed. “and so what, what could a fictional character do for you that i couldn’t?” he asked with a smirk, your face saying nothing but unfazed and unamused.

“fine even though if you were listening you'd know that he’s not completely fictional, but everything. would you ever go down with me on an unsinkable ship and then let me survive only the door we could find?” you asked, sighing after like it’d been a dream of yours.

“no. love, take this as me caring for you but i don’t think we’d sink on an unsinkable ship— it’s in the name.”

“were you not listening? and stop, it’s romantic, don’t ruin this for me,” you scolded, lightly hitting his arm.

“they both could’ve gotten on, jack just wasn’t the brightest. and would you really rather date someone that daft over me?” his nose scrunched to further show his disgust, your scoff not failing to sound after.

“know what, if you were a fictional character, no one would like you.”

“sure, i bet i’d have at least two hundred of you treating me like him.” the smugness in his tone was apparent than ever. you loved him, more than anything in the world but, he wasn’t much compared to jack dawson.

and then came the other obstacle, there not being a valid way to prove to someone like him, with such an inflated ego that no one would like a fictional character version of him. and when you repeated that, he was extremely butt hurt, still allowing his arms to reopen for you to snuggle back in.

single moments passed, another film starting to ease the argument before he spitefully grumbled, “i’d have people all over me.”

“no you wouldn’t!” you whisper shouted back tilting your head up to see his pouting face.

“yes I would, don’t doubt me—”

general // draco malfoy taglist - @draco-malfoys-significant-other @clownybrit @axgelre @lovecroftreads @oh-my-ronron-mphfpc-fanfic-heart @turn-to-page-394-please @callmesasha @aguamvnti @dracosathenaeum @fives-cup-of-coffee @dracomalfoys-wh0re @sfdlm @marrymetheonott @becgggg @gwlvr @bella-lxhp @trashyvicks @Imtryingbutithurts @potterheadtwilighter @galimalfoyweasley @tomandjaebae @mrsmaifoy @riddleswh0r3crux @drachoesimp @eunoniaa @elevatorsdoor @dlmmdl @hogwarts-boys @akaaaaashiiii @90smalfoy @dracosaccount @ambi-doo12 @mypainistemporary @ang9lic @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines @willowmores @fjorelaant @slutfordracoluciusmalfoy @axgelre @beforeoursunsets @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @writeandtranslate @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

to be added to my taglist fill out this form or send me an ask of who you would like to be tagged for !

#— draco malfoy.#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy blurb #draco x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #draco x yn #draco #malfoy

363 notes · View notes

harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

Note

please write a whole smut with bestfriend's dad!harry

Such A Tease

Based Off Of This Ask

And This One

A/N: I’m sorry it’s a bit late again! But your wishes are my command. This is the first official installment of my new ‘Sneaking Around’ series. The structure of this is just like ‘A Series Of Firsts’, series of ‘random’ blurbs that are all connected. This one will have a little bit more interconnection though. Anyways, it’s a filthyy introduction to some characters🤪...Enjoy🙃

You were never one to sneak around. Nor were you one to be into older men. At least, that was the case until you met Harry. You knew that you shouldn’t have been lusting a man that was substantially older than you, let alone a man who was the father of your best friend. It’s just that neither you nor Harry could help yourselves.

You and Christine were both in your second year of college when you two met and became instant friends. It didn’t take long for you two to become really close and rock solid in your friendship. Once midterms rolled around, the two of you two were inseparable. And the fact that the two of you were from the same place, and lived there all the way up until you both left for college (which wasn’t that far away) solidified the friendship even more. The two of you even joked that the universe really wanted you guys to be friends.

But after meeting Harry though, you were starting to think that the universe had other plans.

She had invited you join her to have dinner at her dads. After knocking down the lame excuse of not wanting to intrude on their father daughter time, she was able to finally convince you to tag along with her. What was the harm in having dinner at her dads house? That was what ran through your mind as you said yes to her. You were expecting to have a nice dinner with her dad, and give him an introduction to the girl who’s been hanging around his daughter. That’s it and nothing more.

To be completely frank and honest, you were expecting to find a middle aged (or close to it) man, who was about average in looks and built, and nice. The only thing you got right was the middle aged and nice part. The rest was the complete opposite of your expectations. When the front door opened, you could’ve sworn that you were met with a god. He was the literal epitome of god loves some of us more than others. You couldn’t believe that he was dad. And even though he was your best friends father, his name followed up by the categorization of dilf was going down in your book. Let’s just say that from the moment you stepped foot into his home, you were salivating; and it wasn’t because of the food. As the time passed, you were paying attention to every word that left his mouth; and every muscle that he involuntarily flexed as he finished getting dinner ready. You even made sure to say little so that he could talk to you more. To make matters worse, Harry was one of the nicest and kindest human beings on the planet. Which meant that your thoughts ranged from him ravishing you to walking down an aisle with him at the end of it. You were a complete mess.

While you were kicking yourself for lusting after your best friends dad (dilf), Harry was doing the same. Harry was kicking himself left and right for lusting after a young woman who was not only young enough to be his daughter, but who was in fact the best friend of his daughter, and therefore a woman he could never have. From the moment he opened the front door, Harry was gone. It was like you were the opposite end of the magnet that was pulling him towards you. Ever since he and Christines mother divorced years ago, Harry had dated and slept with a good (and very healthy) amount of women. In all of that time, he’d never felt the same feeling he got from simply looking at you. He’d gotten close to it a couple times, but he’d never experienced the jolts of electricity that were firing throughout his entire body and the swelling of his heart as he looked and talked to you at this capacity before.

These feelings weren’t the only feelings you and Harry had in common though. The both of you were also hoping and praying that Christine didn’t have to go to the bathroom and leave you two alone together. But that’s exactly what happened.

“M’gonna run upstairs to the bathroom real quick and you two can talk some more. Just no embarrassing stories from when I was a kid.” She announces as she excuses herself from the table, making sure to clearly direct the last part to her father, causing you to let out a small laugh that was filled with nervousness. You were not only nervous at the thought of being left alone with her father, you were nervous at the thought of being alone with the hottest and nicest man in the world; who just so happened to be your best friends dad. After Harry “surrenders” to her request, she leaves you both in the dining room and heads upstairs.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” You whisper to him from across the table once you two are completely alone.

“And I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me.” Harry counters simply, dropping his fork and lifting his head to put the entirety of his attention onto you.

“Well you should stop.” You whisper back, looking up from your plate to find Harry’s piercing green eyes staring right back at you.

“And you should do the same.” Harry replies, as slight smirk rising up onto his face in the process; queuing the floodgates between your legs to burst wide open. What makes the gates fall off their hinges is when you feel his sock clad foot rub up against your ankle. Since Harry was a bit older than you, he could easily read into all of your reactions and body language, allowing him to know exactly what buttons to press and how to press them. “Do you mind helping me clear the table Y/n?” He asks abruptly, flipping the topic of conversation from your attraction to each other to the dishes so that you could cool off a bit. He could see how flustered you were by him in that moment so he wanted to give you a little break.

“I don’t mind Mr. Styles.” You promptly whisper back to him. You were so grateful that the previous conversation was over. He then gives you a little nod and the both of you rise up from the table to collect the nearly empty plates and dishes before bringing them into the kitchen. The two of you then stack them on the counter by the sink before turning to go back into the dining room to collect the rest. Before you could take a good five steps, you’re being pulled back, turned around, and pinned against the kitchen counter. Harry has a hand on your waist and the other is softly nudging your chin up so that you could look at him. And before you know it, after looking into your eyes for confirmation, Harry is lowering his mouth down onto yours. This is what you both had been wanting all night long. You knew that from the outside, his lips were a pretty shade of pink (which is the same shade of pink that may or not paint the head of his cock; you were dying to find out) and they were pillow soft. That was the one of the few things you got right all night long. When his lips met yours, they were the softest and most inviting lips you’d ever felt in your entire life. And the way he was pressed up against you as he kissed you was the best. He was pressed tightly pressed against you and your hands were wound in his hair as your lips moved against each others. The thoughts of how wrong this was were blown out of your minds as soon as your lips touched. As you two continued to kiss, you and Harry began to subtly (not so subtly in actuality) rut against each other. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. Your kiss, movements, moans and touches were brought to an abrupt and quick halt when the both of you hear the footsteps leading down the stairs. The both of you quickly move into less compromising positions and focus in on gathering and washing the dishes.

Once the dinner is finally over and it’s time for you and Christine to head back home, Harry gives her a big hug and kiss to the cheek and you a more friendly hug to (not be too obvious) and the two of you are on your way. As you two are heading back home, you reach into your coat pockets in search of your phone. As you’re feeling around, you stumble across a small piece of paper. When you pull it out, you try your best to look at it without turning on the light. The only things you can see are an H, a couple numbers, and a semicolon next to a single parenthesis to form a winking face. You were a little bit on the sad side (inside of course; Christine couldn’t find out about anything) because you weren’t leaving with Harry’s number. You already knew that you were going to break into Christines phone to get it, but you were hoping to get it from Harry himself. So knowing that he went out of his way to make sure you had it was really nice.

And from that night on, the rest was history.

You were constantly covering up bruises on your thighs and neck, and taking aspirin to numb the throbbing and sore feeling between your legs from the way Harry relentlessly (and deliciously) pounded his cock into you. You weren’t trying to hide your sex life from Christine. You wanted to share, and tell her about the amazing (if there was even a word to describe it) sex you were having but you couldn’t. And for reasons that were and are beyond understandable. The last thing you were going to tell your best friend is that you were getting dicked down by her father. Or that you were in love with him. That was a completely different story though.

At first, the thought of getting caught terrified you. And only you. Harry was a little scared since his daughter was involved in the grand scheme of things, but his fear was nothing in comparison to yours. In fact, he instigated every situation that heightened the possibility of you two getting caught. One time, he tasked Christine with running to the grocery store to pick something he forgot. It took him less than 30 seconds after you two were completely alone for him to drop what he was doing and pull your pants down. It also took him less than 30 seconds to pull both of you guys’ pants up when he heard her car pulling up into the driveway. As the time went on though, you began to become more comfortable and willing to take risks here and there. You and Harry would always try to sneak some time in whenever you were visiting with Christine. And whenever you and Harry both had some alone or downtime, you’d drive to Harry’s on your own so that you two could spend some time together. Now even though the sex was beyond amazing, you guys’ relationship as a whole grew. The two of you were pretty much in a full fledged relationship (except for the disclosure part of course) and you both were very happy.

Fast forward about six months and everything was beyond perfect. You and Harry’s relationship was great and you two were in your own secret bubble of love and sex. And your best friend/ Harry’s daughter was completely oblivious to it all. Everything was perfect. You and Christine had just finished your sophomore year of college and the two of you were now spending time with your families. You’d been staying with your family for a little and she was doing the same with Harry. After about a week of not seeing each other (you not seeing Christine…and you not seeing Harry) your felt that it was time for some quality time. And believe it or not, Harry and Christine were on the same page. You’d received two text messages, one from Harry and the other from Christine, begging you to come over. Hers had more of a ‘I miss my best friend vibe’ and Harry’s had more of a ‘I miss your pussy and cuddles’ vibe. So you figured that it was time to pay them both a little visit. Christine also mentioned that you should stay over for the weekend. So packed a little bag and you made sure to pack everything you’d need. Some tight and short clothes, no panties (well maybe just one pair since Harry liked ripping them off of you), two pairs of pajamas, and some toiletries. Once you were dressed and packed for the weekend, you hop into your car and you’re on your way to Harry’s home.

Once you arrive, you knock on the door and you’re immediately engulfed in an almost bone crushing hug from your best friend. After a good minuet, you’re finally released from her arms and able to breathe again. She pulls you into the house and as she does, you see Harry rounding the corner into the living room. As soon as you see him, you’re a mess all over again.

“Hey Mr. Styles.” You smile “innocently” to him, giving him a small wave to help your little act out a bit.

“You know you can call me Harry right?” Harry replies with a smirk as he makes his way over to the couch. As he says this, all the times you were screaming his name (and daddy) as he pounded into you. It was so wrong, but it felt so good. He couldn’t wait until you two were able to get some alone time.

“Me and my dad were just about to watch a movie and you’re gonna watch it with us.” She interjects, dragging you over to the free couch.

“Is it the notebook again? Because if it is, then we may need to have an intervention.” You joke, dropping your bag onto the floor and plopping yourself down onto the couch.

“Don’t blame me! He’s the one who got me hooked on it!” Christine replies, pointing her finger in Harry’s direction.

“I would’ve never thought that you were into these types of movies.” You ponder, turning your head towards Harry as you kick your shoes off. That was a big fat lie. You knew that Harry was the sappiest man in the world. Whenever you guys weren’t running the risk of getting caught, after sex, the two of you would cuddle and watch a romcom or romance/drama movie.

“What can I say? I like a good romance.” Harry shrugs, sending you a soft smile. He too was thinking back the romcoms and cuddles you two shared.

“Well lets get it started!” Christine interjects excitedly, pulling both you and Harry from your little moment, and grabbing the remote from the table. You pull the blanket from the back of the couch and throw it over the two of you while she starts the movie.

After about an hour, you were a little restless. You loved spending time with your best friend and you wanted to continue watching the movie with her, but you needed a little break. And the idea you had for this little break may or may not have included Harry.

“I’m gonna take a little trip to the ladies room.” You whisper to Christine as you pull the blanket off of you. When you stand up from the couch, Harry’s eyes leave the tv screen as you walk away. Instead of going straight upstairs, you stand behind the couch you were just sitting on with Christine and you begin “phase one” of your little break.

Instead of just going upstairs and mouthing to him to come with you, you decide to tease him a bit. Get him worked up so that he’d be running to you. While his attention is still on you, you decide to just go for it and lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him. In an instant, Harry’s eyes widen and his cock stirs in his pants. He couldn’t believe what you were doing. He thought he was the one who was doing the absolute most to live on the edge, but what you were doing right now tied you both for the top spot of the wilder one in the relationship. He constantly makes sure that Christine’s eyes are clued to the tv screen and he’s not being too obvious when it came to being distracted while he took in your teasing. He watched as you squeezed your breasts and tweaked your nipples. You decided to do this for a minuet or two before lifting your skirt a little to give him a peek and ultimately tiptoeing upstairs. This left Harry’s cock completely hard, and his mind completely scrambled as he tried to figure out a plausible reason to step away. After about five minuets, he comes up with a good enough reason to step away and meet you.

“Have t’make a phone call for work. I’ll be right upstairs.” He announces to Christine as he stands from his seat.

“Alright. But can you tell Y/n to hurry up, she’s gonna miss the best parts.” She asks, diverting his attention

“Maybe she’s handling something.” Harry replies, alluding to the possibility of you getting your period. All she does is shrug in response to him, prompting Harry to dash upstairs. As soon as he reaches the top of the stairs, he makes a b-line to the bathroom. Where you were waiting with your panties around your ankles. When he pushes the door open, he’s met with you standing at the counter looking into the mirror. Without saying a single word to you, Harry steps into the bathroom. He closes and locks the door before standing right behind you.

“What’s wrong daddy? Did I make you hard?” You ask sweetly, diverting your attention from your reflection to him.

“Did I say that you could speak?” Harry whispers calmly, lifting his foot to kick your legs apart. “You’re playing a very dangerous game. I’m leaning towards the thought that you want to get caught.” Harry continues, gripping onto your hips and yanking you back so that you fall against the counter and your backside is closer to him.

“Maybe.” You hum, moving your hips a little in his grasp.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, flipping up the bottom of your skirt. “Well now’s the perfect time to see if you want to get caught little girl.” Harry continues on, sending a sharp swat to your ass to make sure that you know who’s in control of this situation. “You could either lay there and moan, whimper, and cry like you do when were all by ourselves, or you could lay there and take it quietly like the good girl you’re supposed to be.” Harry offers, removing a hand from one of your hips shoving down his sweatpants and boxers down all at once. “Your choice.” He whispers finally before lining his cock up with your sopping wet entrance and slowly pushing into you. “Such a tight little hole f’me.” Harry moans as he continues to push into you.

“So big.” You whisper as you feel his cock stretching and filling you. It felt so good to have him inside you again. Once he’s fully inside and you can feel him in the pit of your stomach. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust to his size before slightly pulling out of you, just to slam back in. He then continuously slams into you over and over again, grunting and moaning lowly behind you. His cock was constantly pushing at the deepest part of you. He was going so hard that you could feel his balls slapping against your clit over and over again.

“This what you wanted babygirl? Wanted me t’fuck you hard while your best friend is downstairs waiting for you?” He pants, continuing to fuck into you. He missed being inside you. He missed the feeling of your spongy, warm, and wet walls around his cock as he gave you everything he had. And he couldn’t wait to spend the entirety of the following week with you. He’d be able to be inside of you 24/7. That’s where he always wanted to be.

“Oh my-“ you gasp, feeling his cock dig into your sweet spot. His cock was so good. That was all you could say. The way he masterfully maneuvered his cock in and out of you. He knew exactly how to move and slam into you and make you go numb. He was slamming into you so hard that you could guarantee that your thighs would be sore and bruised. But again, it felt so good. As he continues, Harry yanks you up, keeping the same hard and fast pace from slamming his cock into you.

“Look at yourself baby.” He whispers into your ear, pushing his hand up your tight shirt to cup your breasts in his hands. “A cock crazed little girl getting pounded by daddy. A pretty, moaning, and crying little mess.” Harry chuckles cynically, looking into the mirror to see your worn out yet pleasured face and your watery eyes. He can hear your moans as you get closer and closer to your release. He wraps his thumbs and forefingers around your perky nipples before bending you both down onto the counter. “Feel your walls squeezin’ me baby. Wanna cum for daddy?” Harry pants behind you, feeling his release nearing as well.

“Please daddy.” You whimper. That was all you could say. Your release was coming at full speed and it wasn’t going to slow down. It was hot and tight in the pit of your stomach and you were going to explode.

“Cum with daddy baby.” He groans once more, sending one final, sharp and power filled thrust into you, pinning his cock right against your sweet spot.

At that moment, the both of you let go. Your bottom lip was completely raw at this point, you were trying so hard to hold back your moans the entire time and it was getting harder and harder. It felt so good to cum around him, and to feel him cumming inside of you. You were more than welcoming to the warm and sticky cum painting your walls. As Harry came, he was on the verge of collapse. He was finally emptying himself into you. He let go of everything he had and it was like your walls were milking him for more from the way you were convulsing around him. You were pulsating as you came.

Once you two are done, he pulls out of you and does his pants back up, leaving you slumped over on the counter. Before leaving, the plucks open the mirrored medicine cabinet in front of him and pulls out a bottle of aspirin. He sits it on the counter next to your limp body and just stands behind you to admire the sight. “Might wanna take one, don’t want you to be too sore. Wanna pound into you some more later on.” Harry says nonchalantly. He then brings his hand down to your exposed, sore, and a tiny bit swollen pussy to gather some of his sticky cum that was dripping out. “Might wanna put those panties back on too, don’t want any of m’cum leakin’ out. Want you to be nice and full of it once I empty more of it into you later sweetheart.” Harry continues before bringing his cum covered fingertip to his mouth. He then leans down to press a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and unlocks the bathroom door to walk out, leaving you alone to try your best to put yourself back together.

Masterlist

3K notes · View notes

donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

Spoiled

Kinktober day 5 - Mirror sex

*gif is not mine*

Note - this is a bit of a rushed job. Because while I like August I didn't want to end the year on him lol. It has to be our husband. Thank you so so much for all the support and love all of you have shown me this past year, it's serves as a great motivation for me. I have a resolution of writing 200k in the next year so hopefully there's a lot more hoeness and happiness this coming year for us all. Love y'all❤

This is the last part and sequel to past self and messed up. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Warnings - 18+ only, Smut (m/f), daddy kink, light anal play, hints to threesomes, jealous Steve, cum play, rough sex, general nastiness.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 2k

“I am so tired. I mean time travelling is fun and all but sooo exhausting,” you mumbled into the pillow as you laid face flat on your bed. The soft plush mattress providing some much needed comfort to your sore muscles.

After the snap both you and Steve had moved into a brownstone in Brooklyn, it was much smaller than your quarters in the compound but you never really liked having that much of a distance from him anyway.

Even if you weren’t doing anything, you’d prefer to do nothing with him. Just lounging around on like a couple of couch potatoes.

It was hard for him to not have much to do. With half the world gone and the Avengers broken up he spent most of his days volunteering and leading therapy groups. Telling others to move on, that’s what their loved ones would want for them, while not being able to do so himself. Blaming himself for everything that had happened.

He told you that having all that free time made his mind go to dark places, thinking of his past, of all the lives that he wasn’t able to save. And after years of denying that he needed any, he decided to go to therapy.

They were a tough few years. But everything was fine now. As fine as it could be. His friends were back, you joked about how Bucky and Tony had matching cyborg arms now, he laughed at that but they didn’t. There was still plenty of hostility there, he didn’t exactly expect them to become ‘bffs', as you’d called it, hopefully they’d learn to get along.

He unzipped your boots, pulling them off and massaging your feet, listening to you babble nonsense about all your theories about time travel.

He always called you his sunshine. It was an apt petname for you, you brought light into his life, you were his light at the end of the tunnel. After years of being alone, it was as if he was waiting for you all along.

While you had your share of breakdowns during those five years, lots of fights with him because you wanted to move on and not be stuck in the past. He agreed with you, he didn’t want to be stuck, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t give up on those he loved.

You were always there for him. His only solace during those dark times.

He had changed a lot, when he met you he was still the Captain, then he was on the run, living in shady motels and not knowing who the fuck he was.

He became a bit more melancholic after the snap, the whole world did, a lot needier for you and your attention and love. Because he was so grateful you weren’t gone.

If you had... he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He knew it annoyed you because even though you loved him, that he didn’t doubt one bit, you also liked your independence. But he’ll always need you way more than you need him.

“Sunshine?” he called for your attention, his hands now moving up to your calves, applying just the little bit of pressure.

You giggled, looking over your shoulder to him as you felt your face heat up, “I swear, Steve, you’re so cheesy.”

“Do you...” he cleared his throat and then shook his head, it was stupid of him to even think something like that much less verbally express it to you.

You turned around, laying flat on your back, “What?”

“It’s silly,” he pressed his lips in a thin line.

“I don’t care, you still have to tell me. Come on,” you lightly kicked your legs which were on his lap.

“Do you ever wish... you were with someone closer to your age.”

He couldn’t look at you, even after all these years of being together he couldn’t be completely vulnerable--a life of rejection making him anticipate the worst.

“Why would you say that?” you sat up, cupping his cheek with your hand.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged.

It wasn’t just that you were younger, almost everyone was younger compared to him, but you had a young soul that would never grow old.

And he... he was no fun sometimes, how long would it take for you to grow tired of him. Did just you like the thrill of being on the run? When he was more edgier and rougher than he is now.

“I could never even imagine being with anyone but you,” you assured him.

He scoffed, “Didn’t seem like that when you were with him.”

“Oh, you mean ‘you'?” you cocked your head to the side, feigning innocence.

You knew how jealous your fawning over his past self’s beard had made him. To be honest, you would lose your shit if he acted that way towards any other woman, even if said woman was a version of you.

He shook his head, “Forget I said anything.”

“Wait,” you cupped his cheek, making him look at you, “You’re so jelly and needy sometimes, daddy.”

He bit the inside of his as you knelt on the floor before him, parting his legs, your hands fumbling with his belt but he stopped you by holding onto your wrists.

“We should get cleaned up...” he half heartedly tried to stop you but you managed to pull all his straps open and take his hardening erection out of his pants.

“We probably should...” you hummed, “But I guess I need to show daddy how much I love him,” peaking out your tongue to circle his leaking tip.

“I know you love me, sweetheart, but I just worry sometimes if I’m too old fashioned for you?” he wondered, letting out a shuddering moan as you took him in your mouth, looking up at him with your wide innocent eyes--always so full of life.

You swallowed around him, moaning at the familiar taste and scent of him, taking him deeper till he hit the back of your throat.

Steve being old fashioned did bother you a little at times. Not the part where he was an absolute gentleman, always holding the door open for you, paying for your dates. But where he always wanted to be the one protecting you. Taking care of you. Which was good, but he needs some loving too.

“Swallow it all, honey,” he instructed as he held your head down, his spend coating the back of your throat as you followed his command like a good girl.

Opening your mouth and holding out your tongue, “I did it, daddy,” you proclaimed proudly.

He prodded at your mouth with his fingers, under your tongue, to make sure that you got all of it, “Good girl,” he smiled as you suckled on his fingers, “you always need to have your mouth stuffed, honey, don’t you?”

You only nodded, letting out a pathetic whine when he pulled his fingers out with a loud pop.

“Let’s go shower, honey,” he said but then frowned when you shook your head.

“Are you done already? That’s it?” Don't say it, don’t... “Got another one in ya?”

You knew you were digging your own grave, of Steve wanted you he could literally fuck you for days, you had tried to ‘test' that on your honeymoon. To see who would give out first, your poor pussy or his unyielding supersoldier stamina.

Obviously he won and you were never able to complete your little experiment.

He gave you a fake sweet smile, dripping with--so much malice which was so not Steve. Gripping your hair he yanked you back to bare your neck to him, his other hand tracing your pulse point before wrapping around your neck, applying the slightest bit of pressure - because you were precious, he’d never want to actually hurt you, “I was going to make love to you in the shower, sweetheart.” he squeezed tighter as you choked, wrapping your tiny hands around his wrist, “But then you had to go and say that. What should we do with you?” he mused.

“Fuck me?” you sassed, while making love sounded nice, you would much rather have a good dicking down.

“No, you have to learn your lesson, honey. I maybe older but it only makes me better. I’ll have to show you I guess,” he tutted.

Hauling you up, with his hands under your arms, he manhandled you till you both stood before the dressing mirror you had gotten a few months ago, pressing your cheek against its cool surface as he worked on the seams of your cat suit.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he confessed, ever since you had bought the large mirror, he liked to watch you as he took you apart in it, sometimes making you look, somehow that seemed to suck all your sass and feistiness and you’d just turn into a shy flustered mess in his arms, refusing to look at the mirror or at him.

Which would only fuel his lust, because he still had the ability to surprise you, even after he’d seen all of you. Felt all of your caverns, and you, intimately and knew them like the back of his hand.

“Never really got the opportunity to, now’s good a time as any, wouldn’t you agree?” he nibbled at the shell of your ear, smirking as you weakly nodded.

“You’re so good at doing what you’re told.” He pressed a kiss to your hair, kneeling behind you to rid you of your tight pants before burying his head between your legs.

Nudging your intimate lips apart with the lip of his tongue, “You’re already soaked, honey,” he observed, licking his lips to savor your taste before prodding at your second hole with his tongue, just so he could hear you gasp.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, not expecting that. While Steve was more of an ass man, he never wanted to fuck you or even touch you there. But after a lot of course convincing from your side he had to give in.

He bit the flesh of your buttocks before speaking against it, “Since you like having all your holes stuffed, maybe I should call Bucky to help me out sometime...”

“Really?!” you perked up, looking down at him over your shoulder.

He didn’t give you an answer, instead fucking you with his tongue tillyou were quivering around him, crying out loud, as the mirror fogged up.

“Bucky’s nice...” you mumbled incoherently as he rose to his feet, his nails digging into your hips as he picked you up till you were standing on your top toes to meet his height. Sheathing his hard length inside you in one firm thrusts as he stayed still to let you get used to him.

“Hm. Am I not nice?” you saw him frown behind in his reflection, “I buy you whatever you want. Give you whatever you want, don’t I? Apparently it’s not enough for you. You’re getting too spoiled, I need to start saying no,” he drove each word home with hard thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“NOOO,” you whined, tears streaming down your face at such an outrageous prospect. Steve never said no to you. Not even when you literally asked for a threesome with his past self. “I was saying...” You tried to say but moaned as he pinched your clit, trying to jerk away from him but his firm hold on you made it impossible. “That he’s nice...” you panted, “Slow down, please!”

He hummed to make a show of thinking about it but then fastened his pace, twisting your clit between his fingers as he watched your face in the mirror.

“No.”

“He’s nice.... but he’s not you,” you wailed, clenching around him as your climax washed over you.

He had to hold onto your waist, so you wouldn’t collapse on your shaky leg, he smiled, “That’s very touching, doll.” He said.

“’is the truth.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing it with Bucky though. He knows you’re mine.” Unlike a certain someone who was dumb enough to think he had any claim on you, “Can you hold for me?” he asked as you nodded.

Planting your hands against the mirror you braced yourself as he fucked you from behind, filling you up to the brim with his warmth.

“Okay then. You wouldn’t find me kicking him out of my bed...” you giggled.

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #kinktober

517 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

With you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

fanficmas week 2! i really hope you guys are enjoying the holiday content! updated the fanficmas post with the title of next week’s fic and im working hard on more content, hopefully i’ll have more time when i finish school next week. take care!

word count: ~2k

masterlist

Getting into a relationship so close to the holidays is a pain in the ass. There are just so much unexplored territory, it makes an already stressful time even harder. What do you buy them? Do you spend it together? Do you take them home to your family? Do they want you to meet their family? There really should be a manual to answer all these questions, because it really works up your anxiety.

When you made things official with Harry just a short month before Christmas, you didn’t think about all these things, but once you were able to see from the pink clouds around you, realization hit you hard. These were all crucial questions and you were afraid to ask them straight. What if you disagree on one? What if you want him to meet your family, but he feels rushed? The two of you only dated for a few weeks before he finally asked you to be his girlfriend. You could jump and scream from happiness, but then you realized what it means for the holidays and now you are stressing out.

Harry however knows you well enough to notice that something is off, so one evening, when you’re on the phone he softly asks.

“Love, everything alright?” you hear his soft murmur through the phone.

“Yeah, why are you asking?” you say, trying your best to sound convincing.

“Because the moment I brought Christmas up you started giving one word answers. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Your heart aches, he is such a sweetheart. You can’t just put it all aside hoping for the best, you need to be mature and just communicate your fears. Hopefully, he won’t think you’re crazy for stressing on such things.

“I’m just… a little anxious about the holidays.”

“Okay, talk to me. What’s gotten you feeling that way?”

“I’m just not sure what we should do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we haven’t talked about what happens on Christmas. Do you want me to meet your family? Do you want to meet mine? Do we celebrate together or meet after the holidays?”

You hear a soft chuckle on the other end of the call and you huff to yourself. Good to know, he finds it entertaining.

“Love, don’t stress about it, alright? We can talk about it now. But there’s no wrong answer, okay?”

“Do you really mean that?”

“I do. I know it’s our first Christmas together, a kind of important step, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with whatever we come up with.”

“You are literally making it so hard for me to comprehend that you’re real when you are so caring and loving Harry,” you mumble in the phone, earning another chuckle from him. Moments like this, when he acts like a real prince charming just makes you unable to wrap your head around the fact that you are dating this man. He is your boyfriend and you are his girlfriend. Unbelievable!

The two of you talk it through and come up with a plan for the holidays. Dinner at your parents’ on the 25th, lunch with his family on the 26th and then ice-skating in the evening, just the two of you.

Now that you have cleared it all, you just worry about one thing: not to do anything during the holidays that would make him want to leave you right away.

Dinner at your parents’ goes by smoothly, it’s not a surprise Harry wraps both of them around his fingers, you were kind of expecting it beforehand. Besides, your mom was already so excited to meet your charming new boyfriend, he doesn’t even have to try that hard through the evening.

Now lunch with his family has been working up your anxiety, but when Anne greets you with a warm hug and some sweet words about how grateful she is to finally meet the girl her son has been gushing about, your nerves fade and you let yourself enjoy this time with them. They are all so welcoming and you really hit it off with Gemma, already making plans after the holidays, just the two of you.

“Already getting rid of me, babe?” Harry teases you softly and you just kiss him with an innocent look.

After family time at the Styles home, Harry drives you home to get changed and pick your skates up before dropping by his house to do the same. You arrive to the skating rink a little after five, the sun has already dipped down below the horizon, the Christmas lights all around the place are setting the mood for the evening.

“I’m warning you, I’m not that good of a skater,” you tell him with a nervous smile as you finish up with your skates.

“S’alright, I’ll look out for you,” he smirks, making your heart flutter in your chest. He holds out a hand for you and you gladly take it, balancing on the blades a little wobbly. It’s been quite a few years since the last time you skated and you surely became a little rusty. You can only hope you won’t embarrass yourself that badly, wouldn’t want such an awkward memory from your first Christmas spent together with Harry.

“Hold onto me all you want, Love,” he tells you when he is already on the ice, helping you step into the rink as well. Your ankles aren’t holding up too steadily, so you take up on his offer and cling onto him for dear life.

You manage to get on the ice without smashing your face against it, so you give yourself a point for that. Harry seems to be comfortable in his black skates, gliding on the ice easily, always looking out for you to help or catch you if you might fall.

It surely takes you time to get used to moving around on the ice, losing balance quite often, but Harry is always quick to catch you just in time, saving you from falling.

“You are getting better, babe,” he smiles at you proudly when you are only holding one of his hands, trying your best to move forward, people passing you in a faster pace, but you are just happy to take it in slower.

“Sorry to hold you back. You can go a few rounds without me if you want,” you tell him, knowing well he would easily be able to circle the rink smoothly like a pro.

“I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about me, Love,” he smiles at you and he sounds genuine. Returning the smile you try to inch closer to steal a quick kiss, holding onto his hand you manage to reach him, but right before your lips could meet his, a guy speeds past you so suddenly, he scares you, making you jump and easily fall out of your balance you worked so hard to keep all along. Harry’s arm immediately flies around you, trying to keep you steady, but it’s all dead business.

You launch forward, not able to hold yourself up, collapsing against Harry, who desperately tries to keep the both of you standing, but he doesn’t succeed. The two of you fall to the hard ice and though you mostly land on Harry, it’s still painful and you can only imagine what it feels like for him.

“Oh shit!” you gasp when you finally realize what just happened and that you’re lying flat on Harry who is grunting underneath you. “Harry, I’m so sorry!” you whimper, already feeling the embarrassment crawling up on your cheeks, heating them up. Of course you have to be so clumsy to pull Harry down with you when you fall.

Eyes falling to Harry’s face you see that his expression is quite pain twisted and looking down at him you try to find where he hurt himself.

“Wha-what hurts?” you frantically ask as he opens his eyes, staring up at the sky, seemingly holding his breath.

“Don’t panic, Love, but I think my wrist is broken,” he huffs out and you gasp at his words. You carefully get off of him and your gaze finds the hand that’s probably injured, but you can’t see much, his coat and sweater still covering it.

You manage to hold your tears back as you and Harry somehow push yourselves up from the ice and make your way off the rink. He is holding himself up like a soldier, not even whimpering at the pain he is surely feeling, but you can tell it’s painful as hell. You help him change into his boots, then change yourself as well, pack everything up as you head out to the car. This time you’re clearly driving and sitting in the dark car you need to bite into your lower lip to stop yourself from crying, but you are not even the one who is injured.

You just can’t believe he broke an arm because of you. How pathetic are you really? This evening will surely haunt you for years.

You feel Harry’s gaze on you while you drive, and you’re pretty sure he can tell how shaken up you are, but he chooses not to comment on it and you’re more thank thankful for that choice.

You park down at the hospital and walking in you are faced with the holiday chaos of the ER, that basically looks like hell. The place is packed, nurses and doctors are rushing from one point to the other, patients are waiting everywhere, children are crying and it’s a whole mess.

You check Harry in at the nurse station and the nice lady asks the two of you to wait until his name is called. Harry spots two empty chairs in the corner so you make yourselves comfortable there for the wait ahead of you.

He can tell you are blaming yourself and shutting yourself down, but he surely doesn’t want you to think it’s any of your fault.

“Hey,” he softly breathes out catching your attention. “What’s going on in your pretty head?”

You let out a tired and frustrated sigh, rolling your lips into your mouth.

“Just that I’m such a loser, breaking my boyfriend’s hand on our first Christmas together.”

“You did not break my hand, okay? It was an accident, Love.”

“Yeah, but I fell on you and that’s why it happened. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to with me after this,” you mumble under your breath, but Harry is shocked to hear your words. Moving up his healthy hand to cup your cheek he turns your face to force you to look into his eyes.

“Okay, this is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard from you. Why would I want to break up with you for this?”

“Because… I’m a clumsy loser?” you whisper, feeling the tears stinging in your eyes again. “I’m so not the right match for you, anyone can see that,” you huff sadly.

“Stop this, I hate seeing you doubt yourself. Because it makes me feel like I don’t worship you enough, that I don’t show you enough how crazy I am for you.”

“You are?” you mumble with wide eyes.

“Oh, absolutely,” he chuckles, running his thumb across the soft skin under your eye. “And this is going to be the funniest and best story to tell later. I can’t wait to tease you every year about it,” he smirks smugly at you, and though you want to roll your eyes at him, your heart is threatening to jump out of your chest. He is planning to spend more Christmases with you!

“I’m sorry this is how our first Christmas turned out to be. In a crowded hospital waiting room,” you huff your apology and he just smiles down at you sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“It doesn’t matter where we are. I just want to be with you.”

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #fanficmas #fanficmas2020 #fanficmas 2020 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020

516 notes · View notes

silhouetteofacedar · 3 years

Text

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.

#god this took me FOREVER #lol I’m busy freaking out over my second covid shot okay don’t @ me #my fic #fmcr #xfiles #txf fic #fox mulder closet romantic #msr #they go to ikea

88 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines · 4 years

Text

Thank you

Fandom: Death Note

Pairing: L X Reader

Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse.

Words: 3k

A/N: I’m in a death note phase again. I wrote this instead of doing my essay oops.

Being the girlfriend of a worldwide, secret detective was hard.

Relationships were hard enough as it is but having to make sure both the partners names were kept hidden made it even harder. Then there’s the constant travelling that takes place along with many other things.

Basically, the relationship between L Lawliet and Y/N Y/S/N was a complicated one. Don’t get me wrong, they were both madly in love with the other, but that didn’t make it any less hard.

“Y/N!” A high-pitched voice sounded from behind the aforementioned couple.

That’s Misa, Y/N’s best friend and often co-worker. The two met at a photoshoot where they became fast friends, the pair being able to work together due to their celebrity status.

“Hi, Misa.” A soft smile crawled onto the Y/H/C-haired girls’ lips.

She usually loved seeing Misa, but today all she wanted was to go back to her house and chill, maybe with Lawliet, maybe not. Who knows? Not her.

“Hi, Ryuzaki.” Misa greeted her best friends’ boyfriend, albeit unknowingly, before grasping her small hand around Y/N’s arm. “Bye, Ryuzaki!” Were her final words as she dragged Y/N away, unaware that she was desperately mouthing “sorry” towards her boyfriend.

“Light won’t even take me on a date, Y/N/N!” Misa whined, still talking about her ‘boyfriend’, “Isn’t that so unfair?”

“Very.” Y/N mumbled, turning the page on her magazine which lay in front of her.

She was currently lying across Misa’s bed, the pink sheets creasing beneath her. The girl’s legs were crossed in the air, the entire weight of her body being placed solely on her stomach. The magazine she was reading was something she had bought on the way back to Misa’s, hoping to share opinions on outfits or gossip about latest celebrities, something that the pair had done since they met.

“Are you even listening, Y/N/N?” The blonde continued to whine upon realizing that her friend was no longer listening to her boy drama.

“Sorry, just deep in thought.” Y/N’s words weren’t necessarily a lie, she was deep in thought just not about something she wished to share.

Misa didn’t know about Lawliet and Y/N’s relationship, nobody did. That was how they liked it. No one could intervene, no drama or anything of the sort. Just the two of them, happy, together.

Oh how she longed to be with him right now. The two of them together, even if they were just sitting in HQ together whilst working on the Kira case that they had been working on for months now. That was how they had met: the Kira case.

Y/N knew of his involvement, her father worked as a detective, similar to Lights. That was how she joined the investigation despite being a student. Both her father and close friend, Light, recommended her.

However, that friendship was slowly fading as she found out more and more evidence that made her suspect Light of being Kira. She’s smart, very smart, that’s why she got along with both geniuses. She fit in well with the two. But the more she investigated the case, the more she realized that Light could possibly be behind the mass murders that were causing terror across the world, especially Japan.

“Ooh! What about? Is it a boy?” Misa was now sat up on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around the yellow pillow that she was previously sitting on. Her loose blonde locks fell down her back as well as over the pillow. She looked absolutely beautiful.

How did Light not love her back?

“Shut up.” The other girl huffed, tossing a pillow from Misa’s bed into the face of the owner, giggling as Misa fell backwards onto the soft carpet before bursting into a fit of giggles herself.

“You have to tell me!” The words left Misa’s lips between giggles as she recomposed herself.

“No!”

“Yes~”

The two argued back and forth for around five minutes before giving up, and bursting into a giggle fit once again, something that was common between the pair.

“So, you like someone?” Misa wiggled her eyebrows in amusement at the fact that her best friend was finally interested in someone other than fictional characters. “Tell me everything.”

Without revealing who it was, Y/N began to tell her about her ‘crush’, despite said crush actually being her boyfriend of a few months now. Ensuring that no significant details were released which could identify the man, she told her everything. Blushing was something new to her, but neither Misa nor Y/N complained. It was a refreshing change for them both.

“Wow,” The model let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding once Y/N had poured her heart out, slightly at least. “I never knew you were capable of such feelings, Y/N/N!”

“Stop teasing me~” Y/N’s hands covered her blushing face, words becoming muffled behind the skin. “This is embarrassing enough as it is,” a groan left her lips as she continued her sentence. “Besides, I doubt he even likes me back.” The final words were mumbled, self-doubt settling in as she realized that her boyfriend might not actually love her.

Logically, Y/N knew that L wouldn’t use her, or at least she hopes, and that he genuinely did value her and her opinion. He enjoyed her company and didn’t find her annoying. He really did love her, despite not having admitted it.

“Sure he does! You’re great, Y/N/N.” Misa grinned at her best friend, unknowingly providing her with a source of comfort.

“Thanks, Misa.” A sigh left the other girls lips, a sinking feeling of doubt looming over her. “I should probably get home, it’s getting late. Goodnight, Misa.”

“Goodnight, Y/N!”

Instead of heading home Y/N decided to take a late-night stroll.

The dark sky was littered with bright stars, a nice change from the usual plain nights sky in Japan. It gave an almost comforting feel to the stroller, reminding her of her childhood when she would stay up late to stare up at the midnight sky with a genuine belief that it was the world watching over her, much like the moon which was ‘following’ her everywhere she went to make sure she was safe.

It was childish, yes, but she was a child so what do you expect?

The Y/H/C-haired girl observed her breath as she exhaled. It was cold which wasn’t a huge surprise considering that it was nearing December now; winter time. Despite being extremely cold, she decided that it wasn’t time to head home just yet. Her mind wasn’t entirely clear and it wasn’t exactly in her best interest to go home with an overthinking mind, so he continued her walk.

The sound of her shoes hitting the ground was one of the only things she could hear other than the occasional passing car or truck. The streetlights lit up her view, being the only thing that did so and Y/N internally thanked whoever put them up considering she wouldn’t be able to use the torch on her phone as it had died long ago. The odd passing-by car provided her with some light also, although it wasn’t much.

It wasn’t until around 1am when she finally decided she should head home.

The house was deadly silent as she entered, but the lights were still alight, leaving the daughter of the local baker and detective confused.

“Mum?” The girls voice was slightly quiet in case she was asleep whilst still being loud enough for anyone seated downstairs to hear.

“Where have you been?!” Her mothers voice was incredibly loud, making Y/N cringe and wince. “I’ve been worried sick! How could you make your mom worry like this?”

Ah, there comes the guilt tripping. Y/N’s thoughts were awfully loud, and she cursed herself internally.

“Sorry, mom.” A frown had made its way onto her lips as she apologized.

Sure, she probably should have warned her that she was going for a walk, but there was no need to guilt trip her.

“You should be. Now go to your room!”

She simply ran upstairs.

The bags under Y/Ns’ eyes almost matched Ryuzaki’s the following day.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night as she replayed every bad moment with her mother sine childhood and believe me, there was a lot of them.

Her mother hadn’t been the best parent to say the least. She was never physically abusive, but the mental scars from her words and actions had taken a toll on her daughter throughout the years.

“Are you okay?” Lights words were full of concern upon noticing the girls tired composure. The way she stood further proved that she was exhausted considering how she was slumped over. Hands shaking also, Light was genuinely concerned, despite his status as Kira, something he knew that she suspected. “You look terrible, no offence.”

“I’m fine.” Her words were quiet, almost silent, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give a completely response but she figured those words would suffice and he would hopefully leave her alone.

Whilst concerned, Light knew not to push things when someone didn’t want to talk, so he didn’t push it further, favouring to ask if she was going to the HQ later which she was.

“Ryuzaki isn’t in today,” Lights words caught her attention, finally pulling her from her trance, “he’s working on the investigation.”

“Oh,” while her response was short, the criminal still cheered internally, glad that he had stopped her worrying, even if it was for a split second.

For the entire day she was completely ‘out of it’, unable to concentrate or even form a coherent sentence and she mentally kicked herself at her so-called failure. However she was slightly grateful that there was no exam today, knowing she would have most definitely failed. She probably wouldn’t have been able to write more than three words.

Y/N’s walk to HQ was lonely as she desperately craved some human contact.

She really needed a hug.

As though in a trance, the girl scanned herself into HQ and headed towards the main room where she knew everyone would be.

“Hi, Y/N,” Matsuda’s cheerful greeting caught Ryuzaki’s attention. Well, more like the name of the person he was greeting.

Nobody could have known however, unaware of the short-lived glance he had spared towards her. This short glance told him a lot: she hadn’t slept, she was deep in thought and she felt… crap.

This worried the detective immensely. He really did care for the girl; a lot more than he would admit. Not that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t know how she would react and didn’t want to risk facing rejection.

It would hurt.

“Hi.” The response she gave Matsuda was blunt, emotionless which L wasn’t happy to hear.

She never used that tone. She was usually cheerful. It must be bad.

“You guys can go for a break. You’ve been here most of today and it’s not nearing 5pm.” L’s words matched his girlfriends tone as usual, uncaring about the relief his words had just provided the others on the case. “Except you.” His gaze was now fixated on his love, making her internally curse at herself for being so obvious about her low mood.

The raven-haired detective waited for everyone to leave, stare unmoving as he observed Y/N’s every move and she walked towards the chair opposite him.

“What is it?” Y/N’s gaze was cast towards the ground, not wanting L to see her like this. “I’m sorry.” Her words were quick, worried that he was going to say something that would simply upset her more. “I-I didn’t mean too.”

L’s cold hand gently grasped her chin, lifting her face so that they could look at each other and he cringed slightly as he saw the tear threatening to fall from her eyes.

Okay, he is now really worried.

“What’s wrong?” His words were quiet but still laced with genuine concern, along with his eyes. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” The words stumbled from her lips, only worrying him more. “C-can I just go today? Please.”

L simply nodded, watching as she dashed from the HQ and out of his sight.

“Why do you keep disappearing?” Y/N’s mothers voice was the first thing she heard as she walked through the door.

“Please, leave me alone.” Y/N begged, simply wishing to be alone.

She made an attempt to dash upstairs, only to be stopped by her mothers tight grip around her wrist as she spun her around to face her. A hash slap hit the younger girls face with such a force that they both knew would leave a mark the following day.

“Y-Y/N…” Upon realisation of what she had just done, her tight grip around her daughters wrist loosened, hand dropping to her side.

“Never talk to me again.” YN’s words were quiet yet laced with venom before she finally dashed up to her room, one goal in mind:

Leave.

Her movements were quick as she packed her bag, tears leaking from her eyes in both pain and sadness,

Within minutes her bag was packed, tossed over her shoulder before she ran downstairs.

“Please don’t leave.” Her mother’s plead fell on deaf ears, the only response coming from the closing of the door as she watched her daughter leave, neither of them knowing if she would ever return.

It was cold. Very cold and Y/N cursed herself for not bringing a jacket, being in a skirt and t-shirt which was the same outfit she had worn to school today.

Shivering, she began her long walk towards HQ, something she knew would take a long time.

“What happened to you?” Detective Yagami’s voice was filled with panic upon seeing the tear stains on her cheeks as well as the bright red bruising hand-mark.

Lawliet payed no attention to his remark, simply assuming that Matsuda had had a clumsy accident yet again.

“Please, can I just sit down?” Was what captured his attention, the soft and exhausted voice being one he recognised immediately.

“O-of course.” Soichiro’s words were rushed as he signalled towards the seat he had previously occupied which Y/N gratefully took.

L spun on his chair to look at the girl, breath hitching as he took in her appearance.

He caught her gaze and she had looked up after hearing the spinning of the chair and she thanked whatever gods there were that it was simply the three of them.

“Detective Yagami would you mind if we have a moment?” L’s stare was unmoving as Yagami nodded, leaving the room.

“R-Ryu…” Her voice sounded broken, eyes filled with pain and he soon noticed the bag on the ground, quickly coming to the conclusion that something had happened at home, presumably with her mother, and she had ran away.

L quickly climbed onto his feet, opening his arms which Y/N gladly ran into, breaking down into sobs. His hand placed itself on her hair, burying itself into her hair as her face buried into his chest. L was uncaring as her tears soaked through his white tee; he only cared that she was okay. They stood like that for a long time, L providing comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“Come on,” L broke the silence as his girlfriend calmed down, her breath evening out, “lets get you to a room.” He offered her a hand as she pulled away, one she took with extreme gratitude, appreciating that it must have been hard for him to give her any affection.

Their hands never parted as they climbed the stairs of the HQ, heading towards Y/N’s new room. Ryuzaki had thrown her bag over his shoulder, the heavy weight of the bag not affecting him one bit.

The room was empty, and it was clear nobody was staying there.

The noise of the bag dropping to the ground was loud, startling Y/N whilst Lawliet remained unaffected, having been the one that had caused the noise; not that it would have scared him anyway.

Y/N was led towards the made bed by the detective, sitting herself down as he wordlessly instructed before taking a seat beside her.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother.” She apologised, making L shake his head in disagreement.

“You could never be a bother, Y/N. Not to me.” His words were less monotone than usual, less devoid of feeling. There was a genuine tone coming from him. “Matsuda’s a bother, not you.” He spoke which made the shorter girl chuckle, something she felt she hadn’t done in ages, despite it having only been a day, #

“Thanks, Ryu. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closely towards him until her warmth was felt by him. “I-“ He paused as he began to speak, extremely aware of what he was about to say.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his sudden silence.

“I love you.” His words were quiet, almost unheard had it not been for the fact that the room was deadly silent.

The pair fell into an awkward silence for a moment before L got up to leave, apologising as he did so.

“Wait,” Y/N’s hand wrapped around his own, “I love you too.”

A small smile made its way onto both of their lips, L walking back over to the girl until he was stood directly in front of her. She watched closely as he bent down, unsure of what he was about to do. The second his lips touched her forehead a huge blush flowed across her cheeks.

“R-Ryu…?” Her embarrassed voice sounded, the only response she earned from him being a small smile before he gave her a pat on the head, turning to leave.

“Thank you.” She called, making him stop in the doorway.

“Anytime, Y/N/N.” The use of the nickname only made her blush harder.

426 notes · View notes

wesimpforxiao · 3 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 10.3: The FINAL Chapter!

Author’s Note: IM SO SORRY IM A DAY LATE I ENDED UP BEING BUSIER THAN EXPECTED AND HAD TROUBLE WRITING BUT HERE IT IS!!!! THANK YOU FOR READING! Be sure to stick around for Inception(Childexreader) ;)

"Xiao! Come here real quick!"

The yaksha glanced your way but didn't bother to get up since you were the one approaching him. It took a moment to register that your hands were entangled in his hair, placing something in it. Your smile was unusually bright today--so much so that it was blinding. Not that he minded though; you've been through a lot these past few months. Maybe this was the happiest you've been in awhile.

"I knew it," you beamed as you admired the flower crown atop his head, "You look so cute!"

"C...Cute?" His gaze flicked away from you for a moment while the tips of his ears reddened. "I-"

"Oh, take the compliment already. We've been together for awhile now. You don't need to be so shy around me." You let yourself fall back onto the grass that was shaded by a large orange tree. Is it a gingko? I need to ask Aether next time he comes in here, your mind trailed.

"I..." Xiao returned his attention to you and lay down next to you, careful not to invade personal space and always leaving an inch or two of space between the two of you. He let his hands lay on his abdomen until he jumped a little from you scooting over without a word. When he looked at you, he was greeted by a cheeky smile.

"I know you're not used to this type of thing called affection, but I can tell you don't mind it."

"Hmph. You've gotten smarter."

"Hey, I told you I'm not a stupid human!"

"You're beginning to sound like Aether's companion."

"Okay, there is a huge difference between emergency food and a stupid human."

"So you admit it?"

"Ugh, keep this up and I'll have no choice but to put more flowers in your hair."

"Do you dishonor every adeptus you come across?"

"Well, you're the only adeptus I've met besides Rex--Er, Zhongli!" The filtered sunlight peeking through the leaves above blinded you when you broke eye contact with Xiao, so instead you propped yourself on your side and admired the view behind him.

Aether's Serenitea Pot was massive. It had to span a mile or two in every direction, and the entire territory sat upon five tall cliffs that were connected via wooden bridges and held flowing waterfalls. The weather was always pleasant day-round. There were several pets outside of the main house on the main cliff that you had befriended, while Xiao seemed to connect the most with one of the gray tabby cats near the entrance. You had caught them sitting quietly together on several occasions.

"Granny would've loved this place," you sigh.

"I shall go with you to visit her grave." He didn't look at you as he said this, but the sincerity of his words rang as clear as the sky above. "...She'd be happy to know you're safe."

"All thanks to you." Despite originally admiring the scenery, your eyes had drifted downward and landed on his stomach. Both of you were fully healed by now because of Bennett, and neither of you had any lasting effects from your battles minus the required resting time. Your side held a prominent scar both at your front and your back, but did Xiao even get scars? He never revealed the answer--mostly because you were too embarrassed to ask--and thus leaving the idea to your imagination.

"I should probably check on the situation outside soon; it's been awhile since Aether updated us." Xiao sat up and summoned his spear--he had mentioned a few times that it was difficult for him to relax here and needed to keep himself busy since a comfortable life is a foreign concept.

"Oh, right..." Your gaze followed his figure as he rose to his feet. Sensing your--what was it, disappointment?--Xiao turned to you and removed his flower crown before gently placing it atop your head. That action was followed by a faint smile, then his lips lightly pecked the tip of your nose.

"I shouldn't be long."

"You two love birds have made quite the nest here! I've gotta say, Aether's got great taste." A familiar voice caught both of you off your guard and Xiao's stance became aggressively defensive in an instant. You and Xiao were supposed to be the only ones in the teapot at the moment, and even then, those who did occasionally stay in here didn't greet you like this. The person that voice belonged to wasn't welcome--or at least, belonged to a presumably-dead man--regardless of that savior act he pulled in Snezhnaya.

"Childe?" More shocked than afraid, you too rose to your feet. "What're you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious? I came here because I had something to say." The harbinger was as carefree as ever, but as he walked towards you a slight limp became noticeable in his steps. He was hiding an injury, but was it from Scaramouche or from Aether?

"What did you do to Aether?" Xiao's voice was as low as a growl as he raised his spear higher. He stood slightly ahead of you to ensure your safety since you no longer had a vision and couldn't use those mysterious anemo powers ever since the rescue. And knowing you and your idiotic tendencies, he had to make sure you didn't do something stupid like try to fight Childe if provoked.

"Haha! Relax! Aether and Mr. Zhongli are doing just fine; in fact, they allowed me to enter!" Childe hid a wince when he stopped walking, but noticed the flicker of recognition in your eyes. His lips curled upward with flattery. "Don't worry, ojou-chan. A little scuff isn't going to take me out."

"I-I wasn't worrying about you."

He seemed unconvinced but faced Xiao again anyway. "You'd be pleased to know that both Aether and Zhongli let me in on their own accord--no manipulation from me whatsoever." The fact that he had to clarify that! "Why don't we chat over lunch? I'll cook. Show me to the kitchen, girlie?"

.............

To say that you and Xiao were staring was a bit of an understatement. Here you were, both sitting at the dining table in the main hall of Aether's adeptal house watching Childe cook up a meal fit for a large family while expertly navigating the kitchen like it was his own. And when he served you, the delicious aroma that wafted into your nose was nothing short of enticing. You and Xiao withheld your utensils--one out of weariness, and the other because it's not almond tofu.

"What?" Childe let out a slight chuckle as he took his seat and dug into his plate. You have no idea how thankful he was that there were forks in the drawers instead of chopsticks. "Oh, perhaps you two already ate before my arrival? More for me then I suppose."

"Um, so why are you here?"

"I figured I'd give you an update regarding our little situation outside."

"'Little?'" Xiao couldn't contain his scoff. He hadn't dismissed his weapon either, and it levitated beside his seat.

"Seems like the quiet life hasn't changed you one bit, yaksha." The harbinger stopped stuffing his face and set his fork aside to look at you. "Regarding what happened with Scaramouche, I think it's safe to say I won."

"If it weren't for you coming here today, I would've assumed your untimely demise." Ignoring Xiao's look of disapproval, you reached for your utensils and started to eat. Both of you hadn't taken your eyes off of the harbinger as he cooked, so the chances that he may have tampered with the ingredients were low. Plus it'd be out of his character to go about eliminating enemies like that. "I'm grateful that you saved my life, but don't think for a second that that makes up for everything you've done to us."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare. I know I've been aggressive for lack of a better term, but I'd like you to know that I'm only like that when it comes to my duties as one of the eleven harbingers. Aside from that, I'm happy to call you a comrade just as I view Aether and Zhongli."

"Woah woah woah," you nearly choked. "I'm certainly not going to start viewing you as a friend now."

Childe simply laughed at your objection. "Think what you may, but I do respect you and the rest of Aether's party. As for my motherland and it's affairs, I think you'd be happy to know that the Tsaritsa has stopped her pursuit of you and Xiao. She's not exactly appreciative of you wrecking the palace and would like to avoid any further destruction that can hamper her current plans."

"That's all it took for her to leave us alone? You must be joking." The archon had spent so much time and resources on hunting and imprisoning you--the idea of her giving up just like that had to be unrealistic, right? And the fact that Xiao managed to bring the entire palace down...there's got to be some sort of bounty on your heads.

Childe met your gaze and held a level of sincerity equivalent to the time when he confessed his feelings and offered you a position among the harbingers on Dragonspine. "Not in the slightest. Regardless, you're free to lead carefree lives from now on. Though if you'd like to rejoin the Fatui I'm sure I can pull some--"

"Nope. I'm done with that."

"Ha! Very well then." Childe resumed eating with an amused grin on his face, but Xiao wasn't satisfied with this conversation yet.

"You've given us no reason to trust your words." His stare was hard and calculating as he tried to decipher any hidden motives behind Childe's friendliness. It wouldn't be unusual for this to be some kind of trick. In fact, he expected that there'd be some sort of catch.

The harbinger sent a brief glance Xiao's way before guiding another forkful of food into his mouth and shrugging. "...Like I said, think what you may. I don't care if you two choose to live in this realm or in Teyvat with the rest of us. But then again it must be incredibly boring for a guardian yaksha to be lounging around in this domestic place. I know I'd be driven mad if I had to live in such a quiet place for so long."

Xiao didn't flinch or give any indication that he was right, but your eyes briefly flicked his way. It was uncomfortable for him to be 'relaxing' here with nothing to do. It wasn't surprising that he'd be yearning to go out and uphold his contract with Rex Lapis again.

............

"Childe, wait." Your hand gripped his forearm rather aggressively as he reached for the door handle to take his leave. Xiao had heard a disturbance outside and went to check on the realm just in case, so it was only the two of you inside the mansion.

"What is it, ojou-chan? Miss me already?"

"Yeah right." As he turned to face you, your grip lightened until you let go. He hadn't called you 'Mezzetin' once since he got here, only referring to you with this nickname like old times...Childe raised a confused brow. "Why?"

"...Why? Why what?"

"Why did you save me? You could've just let Scaramouche kill me back there. So...why did you risk your life to save mine when you didn't care less when I was tortured?" Your stance was firm as you faced him head-on. "I need to know."

"Ah," Childe awkwardly scratched the back of his head, "that." Some sort of conflict flickered in those blue eyes of his as he formulated an answer he didn't quite know himself. "Like I said earlier ojou-chan, I've always seen you as a com--no. As a friend. Just as Zhongli and I converse despite the Osial controversy, I see you in the same light despite my loyalty to the Tsaritsa."

"That doesn't answer my question, though. You had several opportunities to stop what was happening, and it was only then when you decided to step in. So why then? What changed your mind?"

"I don't know."

"Bullshit, Tartaglia. There's got to be strings attached to this, right? You expect something in return from me? Just get on with it already and tell me."

"I doubt you'd be satisfied with my answer regardless," he muttered mostly to himself. "I may be kind of a bad guy, but I'm not completely heartless." He observed the stumped expression that sat on your face as the gears turned in your head. Then, he turned to the door again. "When you're ready, you should join Mr. Zhongli and I for drinks sometime. Farewell, girlie." He was gone.

Despite the deep-rooted grudge you held against the harbinger now, you couldn't help but still hold some sense of familiarity or gratitude for him. You might just take on that offer if only to purposely antagonize him at the dinner table.

......

"Xiao, how did you get your tattoo?" The two of you were sitting beneath another one of the many trees native to Liyue in the adeptal realm, still waiting for news regarding your return to the mortal realm. Several days have passed since Childe paid you a visit, and Zhongli and Aether still had yet to check in on the two of you. To keep Xiao occupied and keep him from worrying, you'd ask him questions. "I don't have any of your memories of it."

Despite his memories being shared with you due to your bond, the further back in time they're from, the blurrier they got. The oldest memory you could 'remember' dealt with the god that enslaved him, and even then, there was no mention of the mysterious green markings that sat on his arm.

"I've always had these markings," he answered gruffly. He had sat up a moment prior with the intent to exit the teapot out of concern for your companions, but your random question caught him off guard. His amber eyes narrowed cynically when your fingers traced them.

"Do they have a special meaning?"

"'Meaning?'" His gaze averted for a moment as he decided whether or not to indulge such a topic. But your eyes were so full of life as you traced his arm, and your touch was so warm... "They represent my true form."

"True form?" You tilted your head and attempted to picture whatever the heck he would be, but all you saw were a bunch of random shapes. The other adepti in Liyue are shaped like deer and cranes, but what the heck was this mosaic supposed to be picturing? "And, uh, what would that be?"

Xiao let out a tiresome sigh and realized he may have made a mistake in answering these questions. Now that he had told you, you weren't going to stop asking until you got to see for yourself. He never uses his true form; very few had ever seen it and those who have have already passed. Zhongli had only ever seen it once.

Seeing his apparent concern made you raise a brow. "No way. Don't tell me your true form is a bug or something!"

"Tch. Is that really what came to mind?" Xiao shot you a glare before standing. He was planning on walking away and ending the conversation, but your silent pleading made him reconsider almost instantly. We are alone, he thought. Perhaps I could show her once. "Fine," he grumbled. "Close your eyes."

You obeyed. He didn't exactly say 'no' when you asked if he'd be a bug. He wasn't going to appear as such...right? Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the anticipation. And just as your excitement grew, so did the winds that brushed past you. Even the leaves in the tree above were shaking violently. Then, everything stilled. Something soft brushed your fingertips, which were resting on your knees. It was a cue.

"Hm?" Xiao was no longer standing over you. Instead stood a majestic bird with blue and green feathers that shimmered like glitter in the sunlight that filtered through the tree branches. "You're--!"

"--a bird," he finished. He didn't say anything for a moment and allowed you to take it all in, seemingly shy or even embarrassed as you instantly reached out to touch him.

The blush that rushed to your cheeks was ignored by the both of you while your fingers grazed over the feathers that stuck up from the top of his head. He was beautiful; as breathtaking as a peacock, even. Your fingers trailed down the back of his long neck, earning a rise of feathers as Xiao contemplated your movements. His feathers were softer than the finest textiles in Liyue! And the tail feathers he had must've been as long as you are tall. They glowed a light blue that's similar to the eyes of his mask.

"So beautiful," you whispered in adoration. Xiao shifted his wait to his other foot. "Thank you for showing me." The fact that he did showed how much trust he placed in you--

The sound of a twig snapping scared the crap out of both of you--so much so that Xiao immediately transformed back into his mortal self. Since he was so close to you though, it looked like he was sitting on you from the front angle.

"Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to check in--" Aether nearly stumbled when he approached you. "Um...am I interrupting?"

"No!"

"The Vigilant Yaksha is BLUSHING?!" Paimon squealed so loud that the three of you scowled. "And what's with that sitting position?! You--"

"Paimon!" Aether swatted at his companion before she could say something that angered the yaksha. "We came here for a reason!"

"Hey! Paimon is NOT a fly!"

"It's confirmed to be safe now. You two can come home!"

"Wait, really?" The two of you stood up. "Are you sure?"

"Yep! There's no issue with the Fatui anymore. Everyone's backed off. We'll see you at the Pavilion for dinner to celebrate, okay? Don't be late!" The two partners exited the realm in a flash.

"Ready?" Xiao turned to you.

"Right now?! It's so sudd--"

"You don't have any belongings here anyways." The statement cracked a smile on both faces. "Let's go." He reached to tap the symbol on his hand.

Your hand grabbed his. "Wait! Let me see you a little longer." He was confused to say the least, but you didn't bother explaining how gorgeous he looked in the light right now. Those amber eyes mirrored your own--though perhaps it'd be more accurate to say the opposite. This is the last chapter of the crazy 'adventure' and the dangerous waltz with the Tsaritsa. In just moments you'd be back in reality, return to Liyue Harbor, return to your Granny's grave, and he would return to his duty of protecting Liyue. One more moment in this peaceful environment is all you need to admire him before life got hectic again.

Now your new adventure will be permanently at Xiao's side for however long your lifespan is: training with him, supporting him at his darkest moments, and loving him. No matter what Teyvat brings next, you'll be able to take it on head-first despite lacking a vision and at his side. You'll both thrive, not just survive. And as you peered into his eyes, you could tell he felt the same. "Okay," you nod. "I'm ready."

#wesimpforxiao #wesimpforxiaoupdates #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #say my name and ill be there

95 notes · View notes