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asumofwords · 8 months

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Modern!Dark!Aemond - Divorce AU - Oneshot

Til Death Do Us Part

SUMMARY: You and Aemond had been married for years, but he was not the man you thought he was. Discovering his affair with his secretary Alys Rivers, you had decided that enough was enough. You packed up your things in secret and left, leaving divorce papers on the table, and booked a one way ticket out of the country.

What will happen when Aemond goes to the ends of the earth to find you and make you his again?

WARNINGS: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. She/her pronouns, stalking, abuse, toxic relationships, infidelity, divorce, NONCON, manipulation, gaslighting, marriage, rough sex, choking, hitting, punching, yandere, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, forced orgasm, violence, daddy kink, dacryphilia, head injury.

PAIRINGS: Modern!Dark!Aemond x reader

Word count: 10.2k

NOTES: Well, well, well.... Here we are. You have all been so feral waiting for this to drop and I am honestly so excited to see you all crawling about in my walls after. Probably shouldn't have to say this by now but will for new folks, READ THE TAGS, this is a DARK!FIC. There is no fluff or happiness lmao. This has been so fucking fun to write hehehe.... Anyway.... Without further adieu... Enjoy ;) <3

The soft hissing of the kettle took you away from the book you had been reading, nestled against one of the many windows in the small cottage you now owned.

Taking the kettle from the stove, you poured the boiled water over your tea leaves, watching the herbal mix swirl in the strainer.

The soft aroma of chamomile and peppermint wafted from the cup and you inhaled deeply, leaning against the kitchen bench as you waited for it to steep, no use going back to your book nook until the tea was ready to take with you.

The leaves from the pine trees in the forest outside had turned a deep green, the cold chill of winter having rolled through the valley of the quaint village you lived in early this year. Condensation rose from earth as the sun heated the mildew on the grass, the smokey illusion seeping from the forest floor.

It was different to the city. No more were the days of craning your head up to look at the crawling skyline of buildings, the sound of traffic, or yelling of people on the street. No more did you hear cars blare their horns or music, or the melodic sounds of people chattering in the late hours of the night or fights between lovers from apartments surrounding.

Now, the most noise you heard was the occasional storm that rolled through the valley, or the deer that wondered the pasture at the back of your property.

You could remember the first night you heard them, such a different and unfamiliar screeching that had set your hair on edge, eyes darting about to each window and front door as you raced around the house to make sure they were locked.

They always were.

You were meticulous that way. Always vigilant, always ready.

But in reality, you shouldn’t still be on edge.

It had been months since you left.

Almost an entire year since you packed your things and left the papers and your ring on the table for him to find. And what’s more, there would be no way for him to find you out here.

Not that he would even try.

You hoped.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t love him, or loved him; the lines were still blurred there. But Aemond had broken you in ways you never knew he could.

The lies, the secrecy, and then, her.

You remembered when you had first met Alys; a work event Aemond brought you along to. The pretty wife and happy family image did wonders for his company and the press, so he often brought you along on his arm, smiles and grins for the cameras, whispers of starting a family or trying for one, until you were out of view.

But that time had been different.

That time, something had changed.

You had known about Alys Rivers for a while, a new hire going months back. A woman from no notable name, nor background, a start up of her own, worked hard to get where she was, or at least, that’s what you had first thought when Aemond had described her to you; his new secretary hire.

An older woman, not one a wife would usually find as a threat.

It’s almost always the younger ones. Older men seeking out their youth between the thighs of a barely twenty-something, whilst their wives are none the wiser, or perhaps knowing and too resigned to care, birthing them children at home as their marriage dissolves into nothing but a loveless legal contract.

But this was different.

She hadn’t come to introduce herself at first, not at all, and that’s what you found the strangest.

Alys Rivers, a few inches taller than you, with pale skin and bright green eyes, had stood in the far end of the hired venue, sipping a glass of red wine, perfectly manicured maroon nails tapping on the glass, whilst she tucked an ebony strand of hair behind her ear.

You had felt the heat of her gaze immediately, your eyes meeting hers, and yet, she didn’t look away, didn’t smile softly, walk over and introduce herself as any other woman would have. She just stared. Right into your very soul. It had sent shivers down your spine, and you knew, in that moment, that something was wrong.

Off.

Aemond had done his rounds with his private investors, higher employees, friends, if you could call them that, and press alike, all whilst you stuck by his side, smiling pretty and responding with shallow answers that didn’t give too much or too little for them to talk about later.

You hated those stuffy events, men and women alike always trying to get closer to you in order to get to Aemond, who was a fortress to begin with. Some people often commented or made joking remarks at how surprised they were that you had married him. That you had managed to thaw the Ice Man himself, that he was even capable of such things, and you would always laugh and make jokes back in good nature, smile never reaching your eyes.

But really, he was amazing when you were first married. Doting, loving, loyal, and always there, though that was sometimes overbearing. There was of course the little things, the teeny red flags that you ignored more often than not, rose tinted glasses and all that, but you had been young and in love and crazy about him, and he had been the same about you.

But as the years rolled by, and the two of you grew, you also both changed. The business expanded rapidly with the death of his father Viserys, and Aemond became more preoccupied with that legacy, most of the empire being passed along to him, and not his older brother Aegon, who had no desire to work and would rather live off his inherited wealth with drugs and weekend benders surrounded by lusty women. Occasionally men too.

And then when Alys came into the picture, it was like a switch had been flicked.

As though the Aemond you had thought you knew, never existed at all.

Alys had sauntered her way over half way through the event to introduce herself, all saccharine smile with razor sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into your flesh. She was polite, pleasant, overly pleasant, too sweet, too complimentary, and it felt off. Like an overripe peach, or wine that had been left open for a week too long.

Your husband had been stiff at your side, hand flexing around the tumbler of whiskey the entire time she stood beside him, too close to be friendly, and most certainly far too close for a boss and his secretary. And really, you should have listened to your instincts then and there, for they screamed that something was amiss.

But Aemond had a way of getting into your head, making you believe every word he said, push away your own instincts, and question yourself over, and over.

And that’s what you had done.

Questioned yourself, over and over.

Yet one day, something in the back of your head nagged at you too loudly. Aemond had not answering his personal number, calls you could understand, but usually he responded to his texts. But that day he hadn't. And so you called the office, where he spent most of his time these days, which had become a frustrating new normal, as was the depletion of your small weekends away, romantic dinners, spontaneous days out together.

The marriage felt stagnant, stale, and you knew in your gut the true reason for it. His desk had rang for too many rings too long. And when Alys had finally answered, she sounded rushed, caught unawares, awkward.

That was all it had took.

You had asked if he had his lunch yet, that you were nearby in the city and wondering if you should drop by, knowing that he had been spending later evenings in the office ‘working’, or weekend trips away to Harrenhal for business there, his secretary tagging along.

Alys informed you that he had just ate, but the way she said it was with that same overly sweetness that set your brain afire.

It was almost smug.

And so, without even hesitating, like you had for months on end, you picked up your keys and left, heading straight to his office.

Your heart had raced the entire time you drove there, weaving through traffic, just knowing, knowing, something, deep in your gut was not right.

And you were right.

Because there they were, caught like two deers in the headlights as you had swung the door open, Alys, seated on his desk, skirt pushed up to her hips, one shoe lost to the floor as Aemond thrusted into her parted legs.

They hadn’t even heard you at first.

But she saw you.

And she had smiled.

You will always remember his face.

He had turned and looked at you with shock at first, but then it turned to anger, as though you were at fault for this, as though you had ruined his fun, as though you should have known better, scar on his cheek crinkling with the sneer he threw your way.

You left in a flurry of hot tears, immediately calling your lawyer.

You drove straight to your best friend Sara’s house, and crashed at hers for the week, ignoring the constant buzz of calls and texts, and yes, even emails from your husband. Aemond in his desperation to reach out to you, even drove to Sara’s house, demanding if you were there. You had hid in the bathroom, holding your breath in the tub, shaking with anger and heartbreak and fighting the urge to go out there, to yell at him, scream at him, or more dangerous still, forgive him.

Then you were gone, speaking to your solicitor to get everything set into motion, friends loyally supporting your decision. You left the divorce papers on the dining room table, packed your bags and left whilst he was at the office, giving him no chance to manipulate you into staying, no chance for argument, and no chance for your heart to win over, taking your essentials and sentimental possessions with you.

You stood in your home, looking at everything inside, at all the memories that you shared in there. From when you had first looked at the house, to buying it, to Aemond's insistence on christening every single surface in the house to make it yours, all giggles and smiles, pleasure and joy.

But gone were those days, gone was the joy and the giggles, the pleasure and the smiles, and so with shaky fingers, you ripped off your wedding ring, finger feeling bare in its absence as you left it atop the pages.

At first you were just hoping to get some space to clear your head and not be manipulated by your husbands lies and very convincing words again. You knew that if you gave him a chance, you would be stuck. You knew that if he pleaded, if he begged, if he smiled with his signature smirk, it would be your downfall. He knew you far too intimately now. He knew how to get you to bend to his will. So you booked the nearest ticket you could and raced to the airport, not once looking back.

You had just landed in Paris when you turned your phone back on, watching the screen as it lit up, where you were immediately bombarded with multiple missed calls from him and a barrage of texts that became more, and more aggressive as time went on.

It was your fault really, to poke the dragon the way you had.

And yet you still did it, answering one of his frantic calls to hear the cool and icy tone of Aemond, barely keeping it together on the other end.

“Where are you?” He had asked, voice deep and quiet, small growl on the end; a tell tale sign that he was furious.

The airport was loud around you, people moving to their next gates, or stopping to move to the small cafes to eat, others continuing onwards towards the baggage claim to collect their luggage.

“It's none of your business.” You had responded, tone clipped, irritation and anger surging through you at his audacity to even be mad.

“I think it’s plenty my business. You’re my wife.”

“Not anymore. Have your solicitor talk to mine. Sign the papers, Aemond.”

You heard him breathe heavily into the speaker, “If you think for one fucking second that I’m going to-“

You pressed the red button on your phone and hung up on him, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you moved lazily through the queue to get through customs.

By the time you had gotten out the other end, you checked your phone again.

There was only one text on the screen that had sent panic blaring through your mind.

‘See you soon.’

You hadn’t planned to run, you hadn’t even planned to leave the country indefinitely, you just needed an out, but Aemond’s aggression had extended it, triggering your flight instincts. You didn’t believe that he would hurt you, but this new anger had frightened you. This new Aemond frightened you.

But Aemond Targaryen’s anger was not new to you either, his possessiveness was not new, and at one point you had even found it endearing. But after years of being married to what you thought was the man of your dreams, the other shoe dropped, and the true man was revealed.

So you made quick work of it, going to an international bank, taking every single cent out of your combined account.

You knew he wouldn’t struggle financially from such a loss, having another seperate offshore account, or two, or five if you were really counting. Not to mention his inheritance which sat in a vault in Budapest.

Comes with being descended from royalty.

But in the end, you knew you needed every dollar if you were going to get away from him and make it stick.

So you got a new passport, ID, and hitchhiked your way across several countries until you finally settled, finding a cottage, nestled in the woods, a solid thirty minute drive from town, buying it from the local farmer in cash. No contract. No deed. Just cash and his silence.

And that’s where you had been ever since.

You took your tea to the window, settling against the nook, pillows and blankets strewn all over as you curled inside. You looked out at the trees, the sun slowly setting for the day.

It was cold in your cottage, not too cold, but cold enough. Winter had come early that year, and you had used more logs of wood for the fire than you had thought you would have needed.

It was strange, to be so far away from the life you used to live. To be so removed from the world. But in some ways it was good. You had no social media, having deactivated every single one you had, and you also had barely any use of your phone unless you turned on the broadband, which was shaky at best and if it was windy, the reception would cut out.

The only people you really spoke to anymore was the people who lived in the town just a ways away, and Sara, who called every Sunday like clockwork, well actually like clockwork, you needed to turn the broadband on for Skype to work on the laptop you had taken with you.

In the almost year you had been gone, you had taught yourself how to make your own clothes, pickle and preserve foods, and even became quite handy at baking the odd loaf of bread here and there. The farmers whose cottage it was previously had left his belongings behind, taking only his clothes and things of memory with him.

There were books almost everywhere, the old man having been an avid reader, and amongst the books had been one on horticulture, and so slowly but surely, you had grown your own self sustaining vegetable patch. It wasn’t perfect, but it prevented you from going into town too often, and also allowed you to not seek employment just yet.

That would come later when Sara would tell you that Aemond would sign the papers.

But every Sunday was the same.

“Any news?” You asked her that morning, Sara had frowned, pixelated to hell, but the frown still evident on your screen.

“Nope. Nothing. The asshole won’t sign them still. Solicitor can’t even find him to talk.”

You sighed, wiping hands down your face angrily.

Why was he doing this?

Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

Something about it made your skin crawl.

Those messages, those calls.

The ‘See you soon’ text.

Something had snapped in Aemond, and you didn’t like it one bit.

Your only consolation was that you were far away with a new name, new life, hidden amongst rolling green hills and large forests.

“How’s Cregan?” You changed the subject, and Sara had given you an update on everyones lives, her brothers first, and his new girlfriend. Then to all your other friends who you longed to see again.

But not yet, you just needed a little more time and for your husband to agree to the divorce.

When the sun had lowered in the sky, you moved to turn the lights in the house on, throwing some logs into the fire and lighting them with a match. You made sure to thank the Gods for solar panels.

The warmth of the fire heated up the small cottage quickly, and you made quick work of reheating a lamb soup you made a few days earlier, crisp homemade bread on the side with butter from a nearby dairy farmer.

It was hearty and warm, and filled you up, having a soporific affect on you. You had a glass of red wine as a treat afterwards, bought from the local markets and found yourself sinking deeper into fatigue.

It was a routine of sort, wake, eat, read, work on the garden or house, eat, drink, sleep. It was comfortable, and it eased much of your worries, always keeping busy. You didn’t realise how stressed and anxious the life you used to live made you.

The week went by, much the same.

The same routine.

The same walls, and floors, and rooms.

Same window nook, and cups of tea, and warming your hands by the fire.

By the time Saturday rolled by, you had been elated, excited even, to get out and look at the homemade wares and farm grown produce. To see the people you had grown to care about and make as your quiet friends. Still at arms length of course with your fake new life, but you let them in more than you had intended to.

It was never a large market, merely the other people who lived in or around the tiny town. But it was cozy, sweet, and some faces were more familiar than others. You looked forward to seeing them all and catching up on their weeks, especially an older lady named Lucy, who crocheted and knitted some of the most wonderful things. She had kind grey eyes, and would always insist on you taking something from her for free.

Today was no different.

“You make this most difficult, hen.” The grey haired woman frowned, coming round the side of her small stall to shove a large, grey knitted jumper into your arms, the same colour as her eyes.

You shook your head, “Lucy, please, at least let me give you some money for it.” Grabbing the soft wool that was pressed against your chest.

The older lady smirked, hands up in the air in submission, “It’s too late,” Her voice was thick with a Scottish accent, “You best be taking that, girly. It’ll be a cold winter that comes round this year, I feel it in my bones already.”

You sighed, “Then let me give you some money for it, and you can buy some more wool to make yourself some warm socks.” Fishing around in your bag to find some cash to give her.

Lucy crossed her arms across her chest, “Gonny no dae that. If you give me any money I’ll be right offended by you, I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug. It’s a gift, you dafty.”

You shook your head and chuckled, there was no point in fighting.

You would never win anyway.

“Fine.” You acquiesced, “But I’m coming to drop you some muffins and scones when I make them next week.”

The older lady sat down heavily in her chair behind the stall, “I expect nothing less. Will you bring some strawberries from yer plot? Dang caterpillars got into mine and tore them to shreds.”

“I’ll bring you a mix of goodies from my wonderful garden that has no caterpillars.” You teased, rubbing the woollen jumper between your fingers, “Thanks again, Lucy, but you’re a menace.”

“Got to be when yer married to my husband.” Lucy joked, but it made your heart race instead.

You swallowed thickly and smiled shakily at the woman, nodding before bidding her a goodbye.

You walked through the rest of the market for a while, getting some fresh honey from a local farmer, some potatoes for a stew later on, and even buying yourself a new handmade mug.

It was a bustling affair, small children giggling with their parents, and older members of town who had been born and raised there walking about and stopping to talk with their life long companions.

Bright bunches of flowers caught your attention, and you moved over to look at them all.

Native flowers of all kinds were bunched together; roses, petunias, anything that could survive the chillier climate. And as you looked at a peculiar shaped purple flower, hooded like a bell, the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

A shiver rolled down your spine, and instinctually you turned, eyes darting around the rest of the market, looking at the sea of people, young and old, walking with their wares, chatting amongst each other or smiling.

Not one had that familiar head of silver hair.

You breathed out a sigh, shaking your head.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

You’re safe.

It’s just your anxiety. It was probably just Lucy’s comment that set you on edge.

Not even Sara truly knew where you were.

You looked back at the flowers again, eyes on the purple ones that were nestled amongst pea flowers and other pinks and yellows.

“Devils Helmut.” The man told you, noting your interest in its peculiar shape, “Monkshood to others, or Wolfsbane to those witchy ones.” His eyes looked at you intently, “You ok? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.”

He was tall, older, but not by much, with deep brown eyes and wavy brunette hair that came to his shoulders, tucked behind his ears. His jaw was sharp, a nice shadow across the skin from his stubble, with lips that were full and pulled upwards slightly. He had broad shoulders and large hands, tiny freckles dusting the pale skin as he watched you.

He was relatively new to town like you, but not really. Duncan, you remembered, had moved back to the little town after his father had passed away, inheriting the plot of land that was next to yours. Lucy had spilled the tea, over a cup of tea, about him with you a few months before, telling you that he was an eligible bachelor with a wink, trying to set the two of you up.

And although he was undeniably attractive, you worried for the implications of getting to know him, and eventually having to tell him about your marriage, and why you were truly where you were. You doubted the man would want anything to do with your baggage.

“I’m okay, just a bit cold. How have you been?” You asked him, the feeling of being watched prickling at the back of your head.

“Fairly good.” Duncan rolled his r deeply, same low Scottish timbre as Lucy, distracting you from the rancid feeling that curled in your gut, “The winter’s come early this year.”

Duncan leant a hand against the table, and you noted that there was no ring on his finger.

Stop that.

“That’s what Lucy said too. Can definitely feel it.”

Duncan looked pointedly at the jumper still in your hands, “And what’s she given you this time?”

Unfolding the jumper in your arms you held it up, holding it against yourself to show him, “A new jumper. Will be perfect when it gets colder. Wish she’d stop throwing things at me and not letting me pay though.”

Duncan laughed, a deep chortle that rumbled his chest and warmed your cheeks, “That’s Lucy for you. She does the same to me too, the auld blether.”

You laughed heartily, “We should go in doubles to the markets when you’re not selling. There’s strength in numbers, you know.”

Oh gods. Why did you say that?

A soft smile pulled on his lips, “You don’t know Lucy well enough if you think we’d stand a chance against her. She’d bowl us over without even blinking.”

Another laugh, and a shrug, "Worth the try.”

Duncan’s eyes scanned your face softly before he stepped forward, grabbing the bunch of flowers you had been looking at from their little vase, holding them out towards you, “Here.”

You looked at the flowers in his hands and frowned, “What?”

“Take them.” He insisted, “You looked right keen on the Monkshood, mean bloody flower that one. Be careful you don’t touch it too much.”

You shook your head, tucking your jumper into your bag, “I can’t possibly-“

“-Please. I insist.”

You reached forward to take the flowers from him hesitantly, feeling guilt bubble inside of you. What was with all these people and their generosity? It was going to give you an aneurism.

Your fingers brushed against his, and the warmth carried up your arm and straight into your chest. Duncan must have felt it too, because a soft blush creeped across his freckled cheeks.

Holding the bunch of flowers to your chest you smiled.

“You don’t have any pets at home? Any cats that might try and make a snack of the flowers?” Duncan pointed to the Monkshood.

You shook your head, “No it’s just me.”

His eyes danced as he nodded, and you felt as if you had answered his second question without him even having to ask.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

A large hand waved the thanks away, “Dinnae worry about it. Though, I have heard good things about yer baking.”

“Have you now? Has Lucy spilt all my secrets?”

A smirk, “Not yer secrets no. But yer baking, yes.”

Feeling bold, you smirked back, “I could make you something, if you’d like." You held up the flowers in show, "As a thanks, of course.”

“What can you make?”

“Anything you want.” You said quieter, swallowing the anticipation that rose in your throat.

“Can you make a good scone?”

You scoffed, “Easiest of things to bake.”

Duncan mirrored your stance, pursing his lips, “Guess I’ll have to be the judge of that then. Do you have enough wood for yer fire? Snow will be falling soon, and we dinnae want you chittering in the cold.”

“I’ve got some left, but I know I’ll probably have to go over to Douglas and Lucy’s to get some more.”

The brown haired man paused in thought, tongue in cheek before he spun around, crouching down to rifle through a bag beneath his table, pulling out a pen and paper.

Duncan placed the small notebook in front of you.

“How about this, you give me yer number, and I’ll come round and bring you some more wood, maybe chop some for the fire as well, and you can thank me by making some scones. I can bring some of Elsie’s jam with me.” Duncan looked up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

And although he had spoken with confidence, it was clear that he was just as nervous as you.

It was hard to fight the heat that creeped up your neck. Excitement and anticipation coursing through you, the feeling of being desired making you giddy.

It had been so long.

You bit your bottom lip softly nodding, leaning down to write your home phone number, making a note to plug the old thing in, praying that it still works, as well as your address into the notebook.

Duncan smiled softly, taking it back and looked at the note, “You didn’t have to write down yer address, I know you bought Macnair’s property a while back, we're practically neighbours. Not accounting for the acres between us.”

“Oh.” You laughed softly, “Sorry, I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Hard to not know everyone here, especially when you grew up around them all. Plus, hard to not notice the bonnie lass who moved here. Quite the stir you created.”

You shook your head and blushed again, Gods damn him, “Not my intention.”

You both stood shyly for a moment, staring at each other, a warm pleasant tension building around the two of you.

Duncan cleared his throat, and clapped his hands together softly, “Right. Well, It’s a dreich day, so you best be off before the rain comes again.” He held the notebook up in his hand and shook it lightly, “You’ll be seeing me soon then. I’ll be coming to collect some of those scones.”

You grinned, and held the flowers gently in show again, “I hope they’re up to your standards. Thanks again for the flowers. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

The blaring ring of the Skype call filled your cottage. You raced from the kitchen to the desk, answering Sara’s call with a bright smile.

“Sar!” You smiled, pulling out your chair to sit in it, looking at your best friends face. But her excitement did not match yours, and instead, her face filled you with dread.

“Sar, what’s wrong?”

You watched as Sara visibly swallowed, leaning towards her computer, “Aemond’s left the country.”

Chills ran over your body.

“Oh, he must have a conference in Rome or Budapest. He always used to-“

“-No.” Sara interrupted you, and her voice instilled a rising sense of fear that you had been battling with for months, “Y/n, I don’t think that’s it. He’s already been gone over a week. That’s why the solicitor couldn’t talk to him him.”

Your heart raced in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

Sara continued as you felt the walls around you move closer, “That’s why the solicitor couldn’t get in contact with him. They went to his office. Apparently he’s on leave, not even Alys was there.”

You licked your lips, swallowing dryly, “What do I do? Fuck, Sara, what do I do?”

“Don’t panic. He doesn’t know where you are! Hell, I don’t even know where you are.”

“I know, I know. But still…” You paused, breathing shallowly, “Sara, I went to the markets yesterday, and it was… Off. Something was off… And I just couldn’t shake this feeling that I was being watched.” You felt like you were going to be sick.

Sara’s face fell, head turning to talk to someone else quietly in the room.

“Who’s that?”

“Just Cregan. He’s talking to Helaena.”

You scoffed sadly, “Helaena won’t know anything. She didn’t even know about Alys.”

Sara shrugged, image becoming pixelated, “I-…-ow…-bu-….-o….-harm…-“

“Sar, you’re cutting up.”

You swore, swatting the computer lightly as her image froze.

Fucking broadband. Gods, maybe you should invest in getting a satellite dish here. At least you could get some cable tv if you did.

“-come to you.” Sara unfroze, the pixels evening out to an almost smooth image.

You groaned, “I didn’t catch any of that. Fucking internet cut out.”

“Can you get a satellite or something like a normal person and not be such a hermit? I said, why don’t I come to you.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Sar. Besides, he wouldn’t hurt me, not that he’d ever find me. He’s just an asshole. Probably curse me out and tell me I’m making it all up.”

Sara’s face dropped again, and you wished she was pixelated so you couldn’t see it, the image making your skin crawl, “Y/n. Theres something you don’t know.”

You straightened in your chair, “Is Alys pregnant?”

“No. She’s too old for that. Something else. Something Jacaerys told Cregan one night years ago. I didn’t want to tell you then, you guys were so in love, and I had never seen you so happy. I just,” She sighed, “I didn’t even really believe it until recently.”

“Sar, you’re scaring me.”

She shook her head, “I know, I know. But as you said, he doesn’t know where you are, and he won’t find you. But Y/n, Aemond isn’t who we think he is.”

“Are you about to tell me he’s some sort of international spy, or politician in hiding?” You tried to joke, but the joke fell flat.

Sara’s head looked to the side before back at the screen, “When Aemond was young, he had a temper. A real bad one. Never got along with his nephews.” She took a steadying breath, “When Lucerys was thirteen and Aemond was nineteen, he attacked him. It was probably years of pent up anger after the accident, a fight had been brewing, but he didn’t stop. No-one could stop him, Y/n. It was bad. Really bad.”

Your stomach roiled.

“Y/n, Lucerys nearly died.”

Your mouth gaped open as you could scarcely get air into your lungs.

Oh gods.

“Breathe.” Sara cooed through the computer, “Girl, you need to breathe.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, hand rubbing your chest, “What the fuck?”

“I know. I know. But they were young, I mean, Aemond was a lot older, but still. They were boys. And Aemond would never do anything like that to you. Not that he will ever find you.”

You counted your breaths as Sara spoke to you, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

“Y/n, y-….I-…t wi-…ll be fine-…. I-… ca-…n…-“

You growled at your screen, standing up in anger and frustration, anxiety pulling cruelly at your gut. You paced in front of the desk as you waited for your friend to come back into view.

When she de-pixelated and came back, you leant heavily against the table.

“You got your phone with you?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Yea.” Sara lifted her phone to the screen.

“Okay, I’m going to give you my address. When do you think you can come?”

A cry flew from your lips.

The cottage was bathed in complete darkness, generator slowing to halt outside, the soft hum of electricity disappearing. Your heart lurched into your throat as you stood in the darkness. Skype screen blaring a ‘Lost Connection’ notification at you.

You took shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself.

This wasn’t unusual.

Just last month a squirrel had been trying to burrow into the electrical box for warmth and chewed through a cable. Luckily for you, Douglas had come over to fix up the wiring and helped you on your way. But with all that had been happening, it gave you a right scare.

Your heart did not slow in your chest, nor did you calm with the way your ears pricked at any noise inside or out. You stumbled through the darkness of the cottage to the kitchen, searching beneath the sink for your emergency torch.

Grasping it in your hand, you clicked it on, lone beam of light shining a path for you through the house to the front door. You crept slowly forward, the sound of your loud breathing in your ear as you got to the door.

You would have to go out and flip the switches manually, and make sure the damned squirrel wasn’t back.

Throwing on your wellies, you unlocked the four deadlocks you had installed on your door one by one until you opened it wide, the valley blanketed in the darkness of the night, clouds shrouding the moon and stars. The shadows of the forest around your house made you more on edge, every trunk or branch causing your eyes to linger that moment longer to decipher what it was.

But they were just that.

Trees.

You trudged around the side of the cottage, shoes crunching on the ground below as you made your way to the back. The icy air nipped at your skin, and you tugged the jumper that Lucy had knitted tightly around you.

They were right, winter had come early this year.

You would have to thank her later.

When you reached the electrical box, you tugged it open, shining the torch on all the different switches inside.

The main switch was flicked off.

For fucks sake.

The broadband must have blown it out.

The cottage was old, and the electricals likely older. But the solar panel were new, and you had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps the different generations of technology were clashing. You briefly wondered how costly it would be to have someone come to rewire the house for you.

As you looked at all the other switches, making sure they all looked in order, and the wires coming from out the back were all in tact, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

You never liked coming out here in the dark.

It was scary, and although there was nothing out here to hurt you, unless there was a miracle lone pack of wolves that came strolling by, which you knew could never happen, since Lucy had told you wolves were hunted to extinction there. So it was just you, the trees and the moon.

The sound of a twig snapping in the woods made you spin on your heel, shining the torch out at the trees in vain. The light didn’t reach very far, illuminating just the front row of trunks, leaving the rest to be bathed in its dense darkness. Your heart thumped in your chest as your eyes scanned the woods.

It’s fine.

It’s nothing.

I’ve just worked myself up.

Gods.

It was probably just a deer or something.

You remembered the day you woke up to a whole herd of deer outside your cottage one morning, quietly munching on the grass outside. You had nearly screamed with joy, but kept the excitement inside, tiptoeing to sit in your window nook and watch them graze.

Holding the box open with one hand, you popped the small torch in your mouth with the other, holding it in your teeth as you flicked all the switches off, and then back on again.

You looked to the house.

Still dark.

You groaned, and did it again.

Again, nothing.

No hum of the motor kicking back on.

“Third times a charm.” You mumbled with the torch in your teeth, flicking the power back on.

The steady buzz of electricity came back, and the lights from the house illuminated a path for you back inside. You all but slammed the box shut and sped back inside to the safety of your cottage, spinning quickly to shut the door behind you, rapidly locking it tight with the deadlocks.

One, two, three, four.

You sighed a breath of relief.

See? Nothing. Just country electricals and wild deer.

You toed off your gumboots, hanging your keys on the hook beside the door.

You needed a glass of wine.

That would do it, a glass of wine and maybe some baking.

“Took me a while to find you.”

Ice ran down your back. Your heart leapt out of your throat as you spun on your feet, fear crashing over you.

You blinked.

And there he was.

Standing in your lounge room.

He had found you.

Aemond’s jaw ticked.

You were so in shock, so terrified that you couldn’t move, entirely rooted to the floor in place as your breath was caught in your throat. Your mouth opened as you tried to suck in air, head feeling light, but you couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t even let the scream out that clawed at the back of your throat.

He had found you.

Aemond took a step towards you, dressed in all black, his long silver hair pulled away from his face in a braid, “I told you, I would see you soon.”

Instincts kicked in, and like a startled deer, you ran. Tearing down the short hallway to get to your room, where you knew the old shot gun Macnair had left behind was hiding beneath the bed. But Aemond was quicker, and you heard his loud steps before you felt him, grabbing you from behind as you kicked your legs back and screamed, trying to get out of his grip.

“Did you really fucking think you could get away from me?” He grunted, holding you impossibly tight, “That I’d ever let you go? It was just by chance that I saw you today, I didn’t even think to go to the markets.” He explained, and tears prickled in your eyes.

You were right, you were being watched.

“But there you were. The Gods brought us back together again, Y/n. I was about to give up. But it was fate that our paths crossed again. It was meant to be.”

You thrashed against him, his arm locking around your chest and neck tightly. You turned your head and bit down on his arm, hard, tasting blood fill your mouth. Aemond hissed, tearing himself from your teeth as he dropped you to the ground, knees collapsing beneath you as you scrambled along the floor to get away.

“Fucking bitch.”

Pain rippled up your scalp as Aemond gripped you by your hair, throwing you back against the floor. Your head hit the wooden boards, eyes sluggishly blinking as the room spun and nausea curled in your stomach.

Your husband stood over you, sneering.

“You’ve been hiding out here for months whilst I’ve been looking for you. Having an affair with that other man who gave you the flowers.” Duncan, “Almost paid him a visit, but that can be done later. Spent all this time searching for my ungrateful cunt of a wife, but you didn’t hide well enough.”

His lone eye narrowed as he looked down at you, lips pulled back in a sneer. Strands of his silver hair had fallen from his braid and puffed with each breath as he stared down at you, chest rising and falling roughly.

You scrambled backwards, nails digging into the wood as he stalked forward, hunting you like prey.

“Money talks. And I have a lot of money. Which you would know, since you cleared out our joined account. Very naughty, Y/n.”

“Fuck you. Get out!” You screamed, kicking a leg at him.

Aemond laughed, dodging your kick, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my wife.”

“I’m not your fucking wife, you psycho.”

“No?” Aemond paused, cocking his head, “Then why are we still on the marriage register? Hm?”

Your back hit the side of the bed, hands swiping underneath desperately in search as you kicked at him again. Aemond swatted your legs away with ease, smirking down at you meanly. But he couldn’t block your kicks forever, and your foot hit him squarely in his groin.

Aemond grunted, doubling over in pain.

You took your chance, desperate to escape as you crawled forward, away from the bed, dizzy and horrified, all instincts telling you to run, not fight.

Besides, you didn’t even know how to use the gun, let alone if it was even loaded.

You stood, side stepping him as you moved to run out the bedroom door.

Your head hit the wooden frame with a crack, smashed into it by Aemond’s large hand. Stars bloomed behind your eyes, pain shooting through your skull. You tried to catch yourself on the door, your nails digging painfully into the wood as you cried, the hand gripping your hair, pulling you back into the room.

Aemond threw you onto the bed, looming over you, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment? To see you again? How hard it was to find you? And you’re acting like such an ungrateful little bitch.”

You grunted and cried, trying to get away, desperate to get yourself off the bed as he pushed you back on it.

“Get off me!”

“But a husband needs his wife,” He leered down at you, pupil wide, “I’ve been dying without you, Y/n. I’ve been bereft ever since you left me. Abandoning me like a coward.” Aemond shook his head, “You could never really leave me. You’re mine.”

“I hate you!” You screamed at him.

Aemond smiled down at you softly, stilling for a moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked at him, “No you don’t.”

His smile dropped from his face in an instant, shadow cast over his scarred cheek as he looked at you blankly, “And if you do, I’ll make you love me again.”

His hands slid down your body, and began to tear at your pants, busting the button from your jeans, sending it flying across the room, then ripping the zipper apart.

Sobs flew from your lips as you pushed up at him, desperate to make him stop, fear escalating within you, “Stop! Aemond. Stop!”

Your fingers tangled in the bed sheets as you kicked at him, knuckles going white as you tried to drag yourself up and away from him on the bed, nails pulling sharply as you used every ounce of strength you had left. The room still spun as your head throbbed with every movement or jolt of your body.

Long fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your jeans and tugged them and your underwear down your legs as you struggled and cried and clawed at him.

“Been a while since you played this game with me.” Aemond chuckled darkly, “Do you remember when you used to pretend you didn’t want it? When you’d say ‘Stop! Please, no!’ and cum around my cock all coy?”

You blinked, memories erupting inside your brain. But those days were consensual, that was fun, something he had even introduced you to. But now? This? This was different. This was not a game. This was not play.

You kicked at his chest, heel clipping his shoulder sharply, a grunt falling from his lips. Aemond slapped a leg away, other hand gripping your thigh tightly. You cried out in pain as his fingers dug into your skin meanly, pain rippling up it.

Your hands tried to pry his fingers away, but the glinting of his wedding ring caught your attention.

He was still wearing it.

He ripped open his belt, and terror struck inside of you.

“Aemond, no. Please. Stop! Aemond stop, please!”

But all the man did was smile down at you crudely, “Gods, I’ve missed your begging. So sweet and small when you’d get on your knees and beg for my cock.” He pulled his length from his slacks, hard and angry, a drop of arousal smeared across his tip, “You’re so fucking beautiful. And you’re mine. My wife.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, thrashing beneath him as he crawled atop of you.

You dug your nails into his arms, trying to swipe at his face and neck, your teeth bared, ready to bite down onto whatever limb came into their collision course.

“Stop.” He growled, slotting himself between your thighs, overpowering you completely.

You sobbed beneath him, begging him to stop, screaming at him to get off, grunting as you twisted beneath the sheets, your head still spinning with small stars that continued to multiply in front of your eyes, the corners of your vision shrouded in black.

In one final attempt, you went for what you knew would hurt him, what you knew would stop him, slow him down.

Give you time.

And so with the heel of your hand, you thrust it upwards into his face, connecting with his prosthetic eye, clipping the painful scar tissue that would sometimes wake him in the middle of the night in tears.

Aemond’s head withdrew with a sharp and pained cry, one palm pushing into his eye socket as he tried to calm the agony. You pushed against his shoulders, trying to move out from underneath, but Aemond was quicker, and his enraged gaze landed on you. The hand that had been pushing into his face, curled into a tight fist.

Your head whipped to the side, and a cool blanket of darkness washed over you.

You laid in it for a while, with no thoughts, no terror, no fear, just that darkness that curled around you quietly.

It was nice for a moment, almost comforting.

Just the feeling of not being there.

But then the blanket faded away, and pain bloomed in your face, iron on your tongue as you blinked in confusion.

There was movement and a weight atop you. Something sliding against your core.

And then, pain.

You whined, hands shoving against the chest above you as Aemond speared you on his length, thrusting sharply and dryly into you as he reached his hilt, the tip of his cock pushing painfully against your cervix.

You gagged quietly, head throbbing as the room spun, your arms weakly pushing at him, feeling as though they were made out of lead. Each movement of your body sent pain rippling through your skull, and bile into your mouth.

“Take it like a good wife.” Aemond growled, pulling his length out of you before thrusting it back in sharply.

You cried loudly, pain spreading through your core as you felt him tear at your walls.

He was always larger, much larger than anyone you had had before, and when you were together, he would have to spend ample time to prepare you, but you would always be wet to help.

The only wetness you felt now, was from your own blood.

Aemond began a harsh and rough pace, with long sharp thrusts that jolted you up the bed on his length, cries of pain bleeding from your lips as you cried, turning your head away from him.

You still tried to push at his chest weakly, nails scratching at him through the dark shirt he wore, but it was no use.

He grunted above you, picking up his pace, wrapping his hands around your neck for leverage. He squeezed, not tightly, but as a warning, and your eyes shot open to look up at him, hands clawing at his to try and get him to release you. The more you dug your nails into his skin, the more he tightened his hands until you were wheezing beneath him.

“This doesn’t have to be difficult, you just need to give in, baby. Come on. Be a good girl for me. Be a good girl for daddy.” He groaned, one hand leaving your neck to pull up the soft woollen jumper to reveal your breasts to the room.

Your nipples stiffened in the chill of the air, fireplace not having been lit yet and the cool of the early winter air seeping into the cabin.

“Fuck.” He hissed, hand coming to squeeze your breast roughly, pinching a stiffened peak between his fingers, rolling it through forefinger and thumb.

You whined in protest, hand trying to move his away.

Aemond lightly slapped your face, “Behave.” He accentuated with a hard thrust, another warning, sending pain shooting through your gut, “I’ll even let you cum. Be a good girl for me and I’ll let you cum, hm? Is that what my pretty wife wants?”

You shook your head weakly, tears overspilling from your eyes and down your cheeks, a sob working its way through your lips.

Aemond bent down and licked the trail of tears from your cheek, “Fuck.” He moaned, thrusting into you faster, “Forgot how fucking tight you were. Gods. Gonna have to make up for time lost aren’t we? You’ve been such” Thrust, “A naughty” Thrust “Girl.” Thrust.

Your core clenched around him instinctually, Aemond adjusting his hips upwards so that his length would brush against the soft spongey spot within. His pace faltered, and a smirk pulled at his lips. Warmth spread through your gut.

“There she is.”

“No. Please, stop. Aemond, please. I’m begging you.” You wailed, hands gripping his arms as your nails clawed into him.

Your husband smirked down at you, “Not so cocky now that you’re mine again, huh? Where’s that bratty attitude from on the phone?”

Aemond continued to fuck at you from the new angle, one hand on your neck in a promise, the other pulling a limp leg up his hip, revulsion barreling through you as you found yourself growing wet from the angle, your body betraying you.

The sound of your slick was loud in the room, adding to your shame.

Aemond only tutted at you, “See? Only I can make you feel like this. Duncan would never be able to make you cum the way I do. No-one can. You’re mine. This pussy, is mine. And what I do with it is for me alone.”

The light in the room was too bright above you, making your head spin even more, the clapping of his hips against yours loud in your ears as his thrusts rocked your head and body backwards, a familiar coil beginning to wind in your stomach.

It was all too much.

Even the smell of him overwhelmed you.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock. You gonna cum for me, baby?” He cooed, mocking you.

“P-Please st-op, Aemond. It h-hurts.” You sobbed.

“Oh it hurts does it?” The sneer was back, Aemond’s head leant down beside your ear as he pushed to his limit, your walls gripping him tightly, and whispered, “Now you know how it felt when you left me.”

You weeped.

“I hope it fucking hurts.” Aemond leant back, fucking into you with new found vigour, sitting back on his haunches as he pulled your hips onto him, the coil getting tighter and tighter.

It was horrifying, to find your body finding pleasure from his assault, but you couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. He knew you too well. Knew your body too intimately. Knew everything that made you tick, twitch, or moan. He had spent hours, years, learning how to expertly map out your body, and he knew your body better than you did.

A slick thumb pressed down on your bud.

“Come on, baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on me. If you cum for me, I’ll forgive you, okay? You cum for me and I’ll know you love me back. Come on, be a good girl, cum for me.”

His thumb swirled roughly against your bud, your hands tightening around him, unsure if you were pulling him toward you or pushing him away. Your mind hazy and confused, the world having been turned upside down.

You came with a cry, back arching off the bed as Aemond praised you through it, fucking into you harder and faster. Warmth spread through your limbs, your eyes scrunched tightly shut, bright lights behind them as your skull throbbed.

Aemond fucked your limp body, thumb leaving your clit as he held your hips with both hands, drilling into your wetness with a painful force, pulling agonising pleasure from you.

You weeped below him, keeping your eyes shut as you just wished for it to be over. For him to just finish.

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill my pretty wife up so we can have a baby. Hm, doesn’t that sound nice? Start a family.”

You sobbed loudly, hiding your face in your hands as you turned your head away from him, the taste of blood still thick on your tongue from where he had struck you.

His pace became sloppy, thrusts uneven as he began to lose himself to pleasure.

“Fuck!” He hissed, thrusting into you sharply as he came, hot ropes of cum coating your walls as he thrusted weakly through his climax.

You chest stuttered with sobs, head spinning, but exhaustion taking over.

You were so tired.

So tired.

You just wanted to sleep.

Wanted to fade away back to that darkness again. Back to nothing.

“Shh,” Aemond hushed you from above, dipping his head to press a gentle kiss against your wet cheek and forehead, “It’s okay now. I’m here. It’s okay.”

You sobbed even harder.

Aemond pulled out of you with a hiss, a small whimper falling from your own lips as you felt pain strum through your brutalised walls. He flopped back onto the bed, dragging your body up beside him as though you weighed nothing, black blooming before your eyes as you knocked your head against the pillow, a wave of sickness rising inside.

But you didn't fight it.

There was no point.

No escape.

Nowhere to go.

Nowhere to hide.

You couldn’t run, even if you wanted to.

And so you laid in his arms as he held you whilst you cried, curling into him as the tears kept coming. He cooed at you softly, rubbing a gentle hand up and down your arm in a way he always used to.

It was so stomach turning, the different sides of Aemond, and if it wasn’t for the concussion that you certainly had, his actions alone would send your head spinning.

Because this Aemond, the soft Aemond, was the one you had known. The one who used to hold you to him, and whisper words of praise. But that was a long time ago, and the Aemond who held you now was a different man.

Someone you didn’t even know.

This Aemond was not the man you married.

Aemond pressed another kiss to the top of your head again, “It’s okay, cry it out. I know you’re sorry. And it’s okay. I'll forgive you. Alys was a mistake, but she’s gone now. She won’t be a problem anymore, okay? It’s just you and me.”

You sobbed louder, and he pulled you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours.

“I know, baby." He cooed sweetly, but it was insincere, hollow, cold, "I’ve missed you too. I love you so much, Y/n." Aemond exhaled hotly at the top. ofyour head before his voice fell to barely a whisper, "So much, you don’t know what I’m willing to do to keep you with me.”

A chill rolled down your spine.

You knew now what he was willing to do.

And with the added news of what he did to Lucerys, you wouldn’t put it past him to harm anyone that came between you again.

A wave of mourning crashed over you.

Mourning your past.

Mourning your future.

And mourning the person that you would become with him. There was no escaping this.

Him.

You inhaled his scent deeply.

He still smelt as he always did, but there was a lingering smell of pine in his clothes. The pines from the woods surrounding your home.

How long had he been out there?

How long had he been waiting?

“You’ll love me again, I know it. I’ll never leave you again. We will be happy together. Here.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide against his chest.

“You’ve chosen the best spot, baby. You always were clever, we can start our family here. Somewhere quiet, no-one around. Just you and me, and eventually the children. Like it was meant to be.”

A shiver rolled through you.

“Marrying you was the best decision I made in my life.” He kissed the top of your head again, smoothing your hair down with his hand lovingly, “I’ll make you see.”

You laid there as you cried, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. Having no real power over the situation, having no real way to escape or get out. If not for Aemond's sheer will, the four dead locks on the door assured it as well. He hummed softly as he let you cry, pain crashing through you in waves.

Aemond paused in thought, his thumb coming beneath your chin as he tilted your head to look up at him.

Your vision was fuzzy from the tears, and the edges were seeped in black, but you could see it. The crazed look in his eye as he gazed down at you with a hungry possessiveness.

“Do you remember our vows?” He asked, watching as you blinked at him, your lip wobbling as you tried to stop the endless stream of sobs that worked their way up your throat.

His thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, a sharp sting sparking in it as his finger brushed over the split.

And then he smiled at you, in the same way that he had the day of your wedding, lips pulled wide, teeth revealed.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him.

The man you had loved, the man you had married and planned a future with.

The man you had been on the run from.

His mouth parted again, smile becoming softer.

“Til death do us part.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know on the general taglist post here :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Taglist:

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 1 month

Note

Hii !! From the smut prompts (stop rolling your eyes, I know Im predicatable!) could I request "Accidentally Sending Nudes", "Sexting" and... a secret third thing (the choice is yours, go hogwild) for Jason x Fat Fem Reader? I'm leaning more towards sub!reader but shes def a little shit about it :3

Thank you in advance if you write it !! 🌼

See, this is why it pays to send in a request with me, because even if I don't answer it right away, I keep requests in my inbox for months and come back to them later!!! (This is from December 2023)

(Also this request is just plain fun) (because Star knows exactly what buttons to push to get me lmao)

DC Titans Requests - OPEN

How would Jason react to you accidentally sending him a nude?

(Jason Todd x Fem!Thick!Reader)

Warnings: set specifically in the Titans!verse - set during season 3/mentions of season 3 plot points; spoilers for major plot points of Titans (including character deaths on the show); this is kind of enemies to lovers? (enemies to fwb, I guess); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader is described as being fat/plus sized; passing mentions of Gar x reader (I couldn't help myself); dubious consent - because of the nature of the trope, Jason sees the reader naked without her explicit consent, and he decides to keep the picture without her consent - but it does spark a consensual sexual relationship between them; passing mention of using nudes for blackmail (that does not happen); this isn't really proofread; (generally, I consider this post to be a fucking mess because it was written in Tumblr but I was still trying to have fun with it lmao.)

...

Jason is minding his own business when it happens.

(For once in life, he is fully, completely, minding his own business.)

He's back in Gotham and he hasn't seen you in months - and if asked, he would say that he hasn't thought about you. He doesn't have time to think about you because he's been too busy with this therapy bullshit, training, trying to get back his title of Robin. Trying to get back in the cape. (And trying to get back in Bruce's good graces.)

But that's not exactly true. He's thought about you a lot.

(Most of those times have been with his hand around his cock, but again - he won't admit that.)

There is an occasional time that you cross his mind and it's because he's wondering genuinely how you're doing - wondering if you're well, how your training is going, wondering if you're doing okay under the Dickhead's reign. But he can't ever pluck up the courage to text you and simply ask. Because that would be admitting that he cares, and that would make him look like a weak little prick.

And that's why he's so damn surprised when you text him first.

He hasn't heard from you since he left the Tower (well, since he stormed away from Donna's funeral in what you called a 'toddler fit' - something that ended in a rather vicious text argument between the two of you). In fact, the last thing in the text history between the two of you is you calling him a 'giant, petty, whiny baby who can't deal with his own emotions'.

(You had no clue what had happened between him and Rose, so that did inform a lot of your opinion on the matter.) (And that was probably the reason why Rose still had all of her teeth after you had seen her at the funeral.)

But all of that was aside from the point.

The point being - Jason found himself smiling when your contact name popped up on his phone.

He has you in his phone as 'Pretty Girl' - along with a contact picture of you sticking your tongue out at him in response to having his phone shoved in your face with the knowledge that he was taking a picture of you. (That tongue always makes him think certain things, so even though you intended for it to be some rude thing to ruin the picture, it makes it so much better for him.)

(1) new photo

That instantly catches Jason's attention.

Perhaps you were sending him a picture just to flip him off, or sending him a picture of a dumpster to ask him if it reminded him of home - a common joke you used to make when he still lived at the Tower.

Jason grabbed his phone and opened the message, expecting another tired joke, and-

Holy fuck.

The last thing he was expecting - your naked body. Your gorgeous naked body.

(He likely would have expected a nuclear blast or for the Joker to clean up his act and actually become a decent, sane citizen before he expected this to happen.)

Jason brought his phone closer to his face, making the picture full screen in order to examine it better - he needed to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating, or that this wasn't some weird dream. But fuck, he definitely wouldn't be able to dream up this.

You were so perfect - so fucking perfect in a way that was so very real.

The picture was a fucking stunning side profile of your body - rolling curves, lacy underwear that could clearly barely contain your impressive hips with sweet little stretch marks jutting out from the fabric (jagged little marks across the softness of your skin that made Jason want to act up) - soft fat for him to grab onto, and the perfect teardrop shape of your breast, now bared to his eye in a way that he had only dreamt of before. Something that he had stared at through the oversized tee shirts you wore to bed without a bra, just wondering what you looked like underneath.

And fuck, this was so much better than anything he could have dreamt up.

Jason's cock began to harden almost instantly, and laying in bed, he reached over to his nightstand for some lube, ready to milk that picture for all it was worth, when-

His phone buzzed again.

Pretty Girl: 'Delete that.'

Jason hadn't even considered that you had sent it to him by mistake. He had been far too busy enjoying to even consider the intention or the psychology behind it.

So, he took his hand off the waistband of his sweats and texted back the first thing that came to mind.

'No.'

(He didn't hear your annoyed growl on the other end, frustrated at his downright typical Jason behaviour.)

'It's not my fault you made a dumbass mistake. Besides, it's the least I get after all the nagging from you.'

Then, something else came to mind as the bubbles popped up, meaning you were busy formulating a reply - an annoyed one, no doubt.

'Who did you mean to send it to anyway? Who are you fucking whose name starts with J that's not me?'

(You hesitated.)

Pretty Girl: 'I didn't type in J.'

'???'

Pretty Girl: 'I typed in G. And it turns out the first contact that popped up was Giant Baby. That's you.'

Jason felt annoyed and insulted on all levels. The fact that you were going to Tiger Boy for dick instead of him, and the fact that you had used such a mocking contact name for him. But when he realised that such a pathetic string of events had caused him to accidentally see you naked, he couldn't be too upset.

'I'm still keeping the picture 😈'

Pretty Girl: 'You're such an asshole' Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me one'

'Fine, I'll owe you one'

Jason shrugged it off, thinking he had won, until -

Pretty Girl: 'No, you owe me a cock.'

This made Jason's stomach jump. You couldn't possibly mean-?

Pretty Girl: ... Pretty Girl: 'You owe me a picture of your dick. You know - an eye for an eye type stuff.'

Jason wanted to ask questions - what did you plan to do with the picture? Should he shave his balls first? Did you want more than one?

But his cock got even harder at you asking for a picture, at you demanding to see his cock, and he couldn't properly think - he couldn't even reason that you might later blackmail him with the picture.

No, instead, he found himself ripping down his pants and turning on the bedside lamp for good lighting, pumping himself up to peak rigid hardness and grasping the base of his cock in hand. And then, without hesitation, he snapped a picture for you. He made sure to get his abs in the photo - a collection of his best assets, with his pants pulled down to mid-thigh, showing off his tight stomach, the deep V leading down to his dick, and his thick seven inch cock in hand surrounded by some well-kept dark pubic hair.

(He was proud of it - and that ego was one of the things that annoyed you most about him.)

He sent it without hesitation and then you began typing several times and stopped once again. Jason's stomach churned with nerves until -

Pretty Girl: 'Fuck you' Pretty Girl: 'I thought it would be smaller'

Jason had no clue how to respond to that, and he was busy racking his brain for some clever reply, when -

Oh. Oh fuck.

(1) new photo

You had sent him another picture. And this time it was definitely on purpose.

It was a view between the plump, beautiful thickness of your thighs - your hand was inside the pretty lace of those panties, and your fingers were visible working on your clit while your needy hole dripped wetness onto the fabric.

So you had liked what you had seen.

Pretty Girl: 'What would you do if you were here right now?'

Jason's brain short-circuited then. He thought of so many things - eating your pussy until you screamed, flipping you onto your stomach and fucking you until you begged him to stop, gripping onto those gorgeous thighs, pinning them to your chest and pounding into your cunt until you finally surrendered and said that you had liked him all along, fucking your smart little mouth to finally shut you up-

Pretty Girl: 'Come on, Jay. Don't disappoint me.'

Oh, he won't.

(Another thing Jason won't admit - he came back to the Tower just for you.)

...

DC Titans Masterlist

#star-mum #my lovely moots #requests #requested #sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x plus sized reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #dc titans #titans #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction #titans x reader

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romanoffsbish · 9 months

Text

Hear Me Out

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Natasha develops a bit of a crush on Shield’s interpreter, and it just so happens that her best friend, Clint, has an in with the woman for her….

A/N: I actually minored in Deaf Studies in college, and that little end bit with Natasha is based on an actual mistake I made in my class lmao.

Cheese / Movie | Sorry / Please | Bad / Bitch

W/C: 3,788

"Why am I here again?" Clint grumbled as he sidled himself up to Natasha as she stood just off stage. "Because, Steve is off on a mission and there's no way I was doing this alone."

Clint rolled his eyes as he saw his best friends smirk grow while watching the stage, she was taunting him for being so easy to manipulate.

"Next time you call, I'm sending you straight to voicemail." Natasha shrugged, "I'll call Laura."

Clint was about to rebut her threat, but then he was caught off guard by seeing you on stage.

"Why's Y/N here?"

Natasha followed his gaze to your face, and her heart momentarily stopped. Y/N... Now she knew your name, and yet it wasn't enough.

——

It had been months since she first noticed you, she was instantly drawn to your beauty, but due to the nature of your connected jobs she felt it would be unprofessional to approach. With every passing event though she felt as her resolve was steadily crumbling, especially since you flashed her a gorgeous smile in passing at the last one. She damn near swooped you then.

"You know her?"

Clint smiled, "She's my Shield appointed interpreter, she bridges the gap between me and others in my situation while also teaching the family and I ASL." His smile dropped into a frown the more he thought about the situation. "Does she do every Avengers press release?"

"Mostly," Natasha replied with understanding in her tone. "Leave it to Fury to double dip."

"Now I feel bad that she spends every Monday to Wednesday with me." Natasha interrupted, "Oh wow, poor girl." Clint shoulder bumped her then went on, "Then she's at the farm every other weekend." Natasha frowned, in part because she didn't know if you could be trusted, but also, because she was jealous.

"Don't worry, I vetted her myself, she's clean."

Natasha's shoulders lost their tenseness, but she still kept a scowl as she realized she had always had an in with you. But since Clint was primarily retired she'd been left out of the loop with just how often she'd been on missions.

"She's single," he teased, Natasha could never hide her feelings from him. "That's cool," but she would be damned if she wouldn't try.

He sighed, ready to give her a little pep talk, but then the crowd roared with applause and he saw you were carefully descending the stage.

"Y/N!" Natasha glared at him, but fortunately you didn't catch it as you happily trotted over. You smiled, but only waved in greeting.

"I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Nat."

"Natasha," the redhead cooly corrected.

You titled your head, and furrowed your brows. Natasha watched in amusement when Clint knowingly huffed as he watched you. With your pointer finger you tapped your chest, then rose it to flick at the sky while shaking your head.

You understood him just fine...

Clint rolled his eyes, then did his very best to sign his introduction once more. Your eyes lit up at his improvements, and Natasha watched the older mans eyes also beaming with pride. She was certain she needed to know you now, because the old man was as a certified grump, but you still managed to make him smile.

"I'm Y/N," you finally spoke, and the redhead nearly fell to her knees at your voice. You had extended your hand out in greeting, but she was too enamored by you as a whole. So, you awkwardly cleared your throat while going to pull it away but she latched on just in time.

"Natasha," she finally offered her name, even though you knew it from not only Clint's intro, but also because you worked for her boss.

"I know," you giggled, and allowed her to keep holding onto your hand well beyond the shake. "You're kind of who I was defending on stage."

The redhead blushed and Clint was speechless.

"Right," she chuckled, and felt her entire body warm from embarrassment. Then, you gently squeezed her hand and she realized she had yet to let it go. Which only made her feel hotter.

The redhead dropped it, and if she wasn't so mortified by her horrible game she'd have seen the way you momentarily frowned at the loss.

"It's lovely to finally meet you Natasha, Clinton here has told me so much about you." You ratted the old man out for his gossiping. Nat narrowed her eyes at the man, curious on his intentions to have ever mentioned her to you.

"Don't worry, it's nothing too bad," you teased her and she met your eyes to see the honesty. "I'd stick around and get to know you myself, but unfortunately I have to meet with Fury, and sign yet another NDA since agents can't seem to keep their mouths shut around me."

"I'm sure Fury can wait," Natasha blurted, and that shocked all three of you. Clint smirked, Natasha's gaze fell to the ground, and you couldn't stop smiling thinking about how she wanted you to stay. The hand holding, and blush were not enough to convince you that the attraction was mutual, but now, you grew sure.

"He very well could," you theorized playfully, and the redhead looked to you with a smile. "But we all know that it's a bad idea to keep the director waiting. Then he'd be faced with the realization that his busy schedule is a facade."

The best friend duo laughed, both innately aware of the truth in your words. Fury spent his days doing a whole lot of nothing while the rest of them actually did the bulk of it all.

"I'm sure I'll see you around," you spoke again, the hopeful tone not being missed by them. Natasha nodded, about to reply, then her voice stalled in her throat as your finger grazed on over her warm cheek to collect an eyelash.

"Make a wish," you'd commanded playfully, and the redhead didn't question your childish behavior. She simply closed her eyes, wished for you, then blew the curl off your fingertip.

"What did you wish for?" Clint asked, and you watched the woman grow tense. "She can't say Clint, or else it won't come true." Natasha's eyes flitted back to you, and her body calmed. "Exactly, if you knew what's best for you, you would listen to the pretty woman Barton."

You gasped at her words, and nearly lost all of your composure, making Natasha slyly smirk.

"I'll see you this weekend," you'd signed to Clint, then left with a nervous smile and wave.

"Don't even," Natasha threatened through gritted teeth, and Clint laughed wildly. "Oh, Laura is going to be so ecstatic at the news."

Natasha left the man in the dust, literally, she drove off in her Corvette just as he made it and left him without a way back to the compound. Nevertheless, he continued to smile over the interaction as he walked back. He got into his car and left towards home, not even saying goodbye to the dramatic, fuming redhead.

He knew that he would be seeing her soon...

—

"Y/N!" You caught the little girl with ease as she ran down the familiar steps of her home. Lila began to ramble incessantly about her week, knowing the rules of silence affected her just as soon as the door was closed behind you.

You always took your time with entering just for her sake. The rules were important, it was the only real way any of them would adapt to the changes that came with Clint's steadily declining hearing. Immersive practices were truly the best when learning a new language.

"Ooh, and Nate got in so much trouble yesterday, because he flushed my dolls head down the toilet. Dad was so mad! Oh, and..."

Just as you went to open the creaky door you heard the slamming of a metal one behind you. Before you could even turn to inspect who it could be you got your answer as the little girl shimmied out of your arms and shrieked.

"Auntie Nat!"

Your entire body warmed when you turned to see her catch the girl just the same as you did. It was a bit soon to picture it, but you couldn't stop your mind from wandering off to thoughts of her maybe one day catching your own kids.

Neither of you had even confessed your crush's and here you were seeing wedding bells; always doomed to be the hopeless romantic it seems.

Little did you know Natasha felt the same way when she watched you with Lila from her car. For a brief moment she was jealous that the little girl looked so happy with you, that was her precious Lila-Bear after all, but then her heart skipped in realization that you'd already won all of the people that mattered over.

Except for Yelena, but she'd likely save that encounter for years down the line if she could. The last thing she needed was for the blonde to run you off before she ever got a real chance.

Turns out you already knew Wanda too, her other bestie, you'd been there for her after a bombing led her to a hearing scare. When Nat mentioned you last night the witch squealed, and begged her not to fuck this opportunity up.

Natasha had scoffed, acting nonchalantly about the possibility of a future, but her heart racing was a sign to the witch that she wanted it bad.

Once the redhead was stood before you it was like your mind was catching up to the moment. Natasha's hand fell to your shoulder, and offered you a bright smile. "We meet again."

"It's almost as if you planned this," you teased and she glared defensively. "It was my weekend off, it is only a coincidence that you're here."

"Oh," you chuckled awkwardly, completely thrown by the sudden change in demeanor. "Well, I'll make sure I stay out of your way."

Natasha internally slapped herself, she had no reason to be upset, but she was embarrassed by your ability to understand why she was here.

"You're bad at this Auntie Nat," Lila noted, then dropped down to follow you back inside.

"Y/N, wait." Natasha tried, but she was met instead with Nate glaring up at her with his tiny finger to his lips. He was shushing her.

Next to greet her was Laura, who pulled her in for a hug and whispered, "Welcome to the dome of silence, you can undo your blunder later—start by not being so defensive."

Natasha rubbed her eyes, and cursed under her breath in her mother tongue, only to be shushed once again by a smirking Clint.

Before she could retaliate (pummel the man) you'd flipped the power off, then on a few times to signal to the Barton's that it was time for congregating in silence. Natasha followed, and took a seat in the far off corner to observe the ways in which you taught the lot of them ASL.

It was amusing from the very start, she could see just why the wary kids loved you so much. The language was something you held respect for in your soul, but you also knew kids needed fun to focus. So, you almost found a way to make it a game of charades when the topics allowed you to. Clint and Laura worked out of a workbook for the most part, it was more like you were a tutor that sidelined as a babysitter.

Natasha watched your face, and how you were emoting so clearly. Every sign came with an expression, something you wouldn't see much of in spoken languages as inflection worked wonders to let others know your moods. In this instance she realized it was you setting a tone.

Today you were teaching them a handful of new words, and using clear feelings to do so.

You'd started with— "I feel," and signed cold, which you dramatized as you wrapped a scarf around your neck before lifting your bent arms in front of you, and shivered. Even Natasha had figured the word out, but that wasn't the answer, because as you saw the kids sign "I understand," you went on to sign "Why?"

Lila giddily raised her hand, body squirming in her seat as she quickly finger-spelled S-N-O-W.

You smiled wide, and signed good before you took your hands and imitated snow fall, your fingers fluttered as you swayed your hands down, then you pointed to your pointer finger, and the kids knew you wanted another word.

Cooper finger-spelled R-A-I-N, and you pursed your lips. Your hand took the shape of a Y, then moved from side to side, then your brow raised as your pointer fingers gently touched before separating fast. A quick way to say they were similar signs, but different in the same breath. Then you signed it and urged them for more.

Natasha already knew the alphabet, and with her spy training she missed nothing so she actually followed along rather easily with you. The widow quite enjoyed learning along with the kids, the words were relatively meaningless to her, but every word was necessary to life.

What really caught her attention was the little boy who'd shushed her earlier using his voice.

Nate was too young to engage in your playful immersive ways like the other two as he hadn't known how to spell yet. So you'd offer him photos after his siblings would spell out their guesses, and he would always get to shout the correct answer to you. To which you'd nod, wink at the older kids, then remind him to keep his lips zipped after as he hung off your back.

Nate snickered when your eyes bulged as you pulled the invisible zipper across your face. His imagination allowed him to believe that your lips were to some extent being zipped shut.

When you moved on to let the kids get ready for bed, you'd focused in on the parental unit.

Natasha gratefully caught your attention just before you settled into a conversation. Your face was rather solemn, and she cringed at the lack of your usual smile—she'd already grown obsessed with the simple gesture of yours.

She offered you a simple smile, and signed I'm sorry, or at least she thought she did, but really she said please and you took it as an apology. You'd merely winked and threw a thumbs up, your version of a rushed "it's okay," before you shifted to face an impatient (eager) Laura.

You were never actually offended by her earlier outburst, you actually found it quite funny.

Laura signed the lesson with you as if she had already known the material before you ever arrived. Part of you thinks she had the book and read ahead to show off, but the other part of you knew just by a glance she was brilliant.

Once you felt satisfied you nodded at her, and she traipsed off upstairs to help the kids finish up their bedtime routines. Then came your time with the struggling Archer, whom of which was the reason for these sorts of visits.

This is when Natasha's attention fell to her phone, you were no longer being silly, and truth be told she felt she needed to do some studying of her own to win your heart over.

Clint held up to your challenges, he signed with a sort of choppy elegance that matched him. Sometimes his signs would be angled wrong, and you would freeze the moment to remind him that sometimes a mistake like that could get him a black eye. For instance, bitch and bad were not too similar, but if you blinked it could be misconstrued, and somehow Clint found a way to confuse them often enough for you to need warn him. Not that he, an actual Avenger, had too much to worry much about.

Any Deaf person would be able to understand his flukes, but you feared he'd still get a stern scolding from the wrong person in a crowd.

Something you knew he'd take with a scowl.

After a half hour with the grumpy man you'd told him he was free to go. He literally jumped up, and lifted you into a grateful embrace as he spoke in a huff, "Fucking finally, I am tired."

"Language!" Laura and Natasha parroted Steve's infamous, inside joke, it spread around Shield so much that even you understood it.

The freshly cleaned up kids all ran into your body in some capacity, Lila smashed her chin into your stomach and pouted up at you. "Don't go?" You ruffled the little girls damp hair and smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back Lila, you guys won't even have a chance to miss me."

"I miss you all the time," Nate corrected you. Cooper jumped in next, pouting just the same, "You're like the coolest adult we know Y/N!"

Natasha scoffed, "I thought that was me!"

Cooper shrugged, and the other kids giggled. "You're our favorite Auntie, deal with it."

"Yeah Natasha, deal with it," you teased her with that pretty grin of yours just before you turned around to give each kid a final hug.

Natasha watched with an adoring smile, her eyes swirling with joy, and a twinge of hope. Clint caught her, and sent a teasing wink her way, but even that didn't stop her from gazing.

"Alright, it was lovely to see you again Y/N, please don't be a stranger," she winked at Natasha while hugging you tightly. "Get home safely please darling, obey the traffic laws."

Clint laughed, "Way to be a mom honey." He gulped as she glared, then patted you on the shoulder quickly before racing off after her to apologize, and help her settle the kids down.

The room was abruptly quiet again, and even with the palpable tension, it wasn't that bad. You moved around the room collecting your materials while Nat quietly observed you, she was building up her courage to approach you before you could leave the house completely.

Natasha politely tapped you on the arm, and you turned your head to peer over your shoulder to see her nervous smile. She swirled her hand about, you got the message and turned to face her fully, you nodded to confirm your full attention was hers so she lifted her hands to attempt to ask you out on a date.

Natasha shakily pointed at you, then back to herself to essentially say "You and me". She had no idea how to really do this, so she kept her Google search for signs at a minimum. The next thing she did was point her fingers out in the distance, something you understood easily.

The tricky part came when she put her hands together, the redhead tried her hardest to ask you to go to the movies with her, but she missed the mark by a simple position of hands.

"Sure, brie or cheddar?" Natasha blinked in confusion, her hands fell in defeat, and she looked completely disheartened. "What?"

"You just asked me to go to cheese with you."

"Oh my god," she groaned, her reddening face covered by her hands in an instant, but you didn't let her steep in her shame. Much like the first meeting you had her hands in yours, and you squeezed them in hopes of comforting her. Judging by the way her eyes glimmered you knew she was grateful for the gesture.

“Of course I’ll go to the movies with you.”

“You understood but still did that?”

You chuckled, “It was too easy not to.” The redhead dropped your hand then softly nudged your shoulder, “You are really such a tease.”

“Just wait for the date,” you winked, and the woman felt her body warm at the implications.

"Let me know when, and I'll meet you there?" Natasha frowned as she shook her head with absolute urgency. "No, I want to pick you up if that's alright, we can get dinner together first."

"Then pick me up next Friday at seven Nat," you leaned in and placed a sweet kiss to her raised cheek and tried to hide your grin at the blooming warmth felt just beneath your lips. Then you got into your car, and she hung into the window instantly to keep you a little longer.

"I'll need your number krasivaya," her tone was even raspier when she spoke in her mother tongue and she could see by the widening of your eyes that she had an upper-hand here. "It'll be hard to get in touch without it detka."

With a steady as can be hand you slid your phone into hers, allowing her to send herself a text message. As you took your phone back you saw she'd sent herself a selfie, you narrowed your eyes, and she shrugged. "I need a contact photo, and didn't really want to wait."

"So you invaded my privacy instead?" You teased the woman, no bite at all behind your words, so she once again shrugged. "You're very beautiful Y/N, you can't blame me right? It's honestly a shame I hadn't met you earlier."

"You know, you had ample opportunity," you giggled, and softly pushed her out of the car. "But you needed your best friends help."

"Hey...."

"Goodnight Natasha, I expect a gorgeous selfie in return, you know, for your contact." You winked knowingly before revving your engine and taking your leave only seconds later.

"That woman is going to actually kill me." The redhead held her hand over her racing heart as you drove away, it wasn't until your car was the size of an ant that it had begun to settle down.

"Jeez Nat, you're whipped!" Natasha turned to Clint with a tilted head, a move of Wanda's, while wearing her signature sideways smirk. Her narrowed eyes alone spoke of danger, but then her fingers formed the shape of L's, and she linked them and pulled them like a trigger.

Her research expanded beyond your wooing to include the torment of her dearest old friend.

Clint knew better than to ignore her threats, and took off in an instant... Natasha's laughter echoed in the dark fields, and mocked the man.

"I can't wait to have someone to complain about those two with," Laura chuckled to herself as she settled onto the porch swing with a glass of wine at the ready to help her unwind.

"Godspeed to Y/N though, that poor girl hasn’t a single clue what she is in for."

——

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astrologuzzy · 10 months

Text

★ MY ASTRO OBSERVASHUNS ★

Disclaimer before I start: I’m no professional astrologer so don’t come for me, mkayyy? MWAH 💋

♡ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, more specifically those with Gemini placements in their personal planets loveeeee playing around with their voice a lot. Just utilizing their voice to be a silly goobert. Like making voice impressions or funny sound effects is very natural for them. Which is why I think so many Geminis are comedians, artists and actors. Whenever I see someone who makes goofy sounds or is very into voice acting I instantly know they must be a Gemini/have heavy Mercury placements and up until now i was 100% correct each time lmao. (As someone who has Gemini placements myself: I love to make funny voices or impressions, sometimes I do it without realizing lol)

♥︎ Which actually brings my to my second point on 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 but those that are musicians; I noticed they frequently love to play around with different genres of music and different styles of singing/rapping in general, even all in one song simultaneously. Good example would probably be Kanye West or Kendrick Lamar. Their music and style tends to be very versatile and they tend to incorporate even very random notes/effects/sounds to it as well.

♡ Oh my goodness, all the 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 I’ve ever known have this damn thing where if you don’t ask them specifically for what you wanna know, they’ll never even tell you it. I had a friend with a full blown Libra stellium that I finally caught up with after months of no contact and this girl only told me about her having a girlfriend and getting into a car accident only 3 days later!? That was thanks to me for randomly mentioning romance and cars, otherwise she wouldn’t have even shared it. So if you wanna hear a Libra disclose something specific with you, just be direct with it.

♥︎ I haven’t met an 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 that wasn’t impulsive and would jump from one relationship/project into another and then complain about how everything turns out a mess (but then get back up and repeat the cycle again smh).

♡ 𝟏𝟐 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐒 and their hidden enemies is actually very fukkin real. I got to witness it closely for the first time and oh boi am I shook lol. My boyfriend has a 12H moon and I’ve witness multiple times strangers come up to us, start a conversation and then just become insanely rude to him outta absolutely nowhere as if they been having beef with him since kindergarten?! Randoms tend to get mad or hostile so easily at him even if he doesn’t say anything bad... it’s so weird.

♥︎ Every person with an 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 in their big 3 has this feistiness to them. Even when they’re super sweet and chill type of Aries I still notice that they have moments where they’re quite direct or don’t really care about what you think. They’re gonna say what they wanna say one way or another and it’s honestly so natural to them, I don’t think they even notice. Even the quiet Aries in my life have this demeanor to them that you just don’t fuck with because they’ll bite back at some point.

♡ In my experience, every 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒 that I’ve ever known always expressed their appreciation and affection in letters/poems/metaphors very frequently. Very romantic, very abstract, Shakespeare who? Every time they’d send a whole ass paragraph like 🥀”you are like a rose that fell in this chaotic ocean and turned it into a tranquil lake” 🍂 just to describe my eyes or something. I don’t think my Aquarius moon is cut for such stuff lmao, it makes me cringe a bit but I do appreciate it! Although every Pisces mars guy I ever knew had additional water placements in their big 3 (like Cancer sun or a Pisces moon) which probably only doubled that sentimentality they had.

♥︎ 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 and their anger issues is something and that something is very real... That’s it, that’s the Tweet lol

♡ Idk what it is about 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 men but they always make me wanna take care of them and like baby them when they’re in their feels and retract and act like they aren’t on the verge of tears... Make me wanna go and cuddle them lol. Especially Cancer moons for wtv reason really soften my Aqua moon when I’m around without them even doing/saying anything.

♥︎ Also 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒 are insanely great at faking their true state of being. I’ve met so many Libras that on the outside look like they’re having a blast but when you actually get to know them you see that their house burned down, their granny died, they almost choked to death twice last week and their partner broke up with them for 15th time that day and now they’re homeless... And you’re like damn bro, I’d literally never guess. They really know how to mask everything, put up a great front for others and do it insanely convincingly. You literally would never guess what that Libra is actually going thru, it’s probably worse than you can image. Please check up on your Libra friends and Libras - it’s ok to ask for helpppp. You guys deserve it <3

♡ 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 are one of the funniest mothafukers everrrrr, they always make me laugh so much! Double points if they have Gemini or other Fire placements with it. Just hilarious individuals.

♥︎ 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 are actually pretty chill people, you won’t see them angry often (but they make sure you know when they do). Usually our anger and passion is more so hidden and works backstage. Compared to 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 that are loud with it and don’t hold back.

That’s it for todayyyy ☀︎

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 5 months

Note

Zoro x Fem Reader FLUFF JEALOUSLY HUMOR!!! Zoro is always busy that he rarely ever goes on dates or hangs out with S/O. Sure, S/O always treats him like massages or cleans his training room etc, but it doesn’t help that Zoro doesn’t want to be teased. One day, to cope with loneliness, S/O makes a plushie of Zoro to keep her company! She’s more happier and playful afterwards so she barely misses Zoro! Zoro gets some free time one day and gets rejected bc S/O is playing with Chopper and plushie!

Sup Bitches I’m back from the dead. Not really lmao but I am still alive and I finished off this draft today so here.

🍶TW’s : loneliness, Zoro being dumb, swearing, sappy OOC Zoro (fight me).

Your hand jerked away from the needle as you pricked your finger again making this stupid plushie. You loved it, yes, and you knew it would be well-used, but that didn't change the fact that it was a pain in the ass (fingers) to make. You swore under your breath as you sucked the small injury, glaring at the offending needle.

"Whatcha makin?" Usopp sidled beside you, his nose poking into your personal space. You grunted before sighing heavily.

"A plushie."

"A green one?"

"Mmmhmm. Zoro's been...." you trailed off as you tried to come up with a better way of saying that you felt as if he was too busy for you.

"He's been training a lot" Usopp finished for you. You nodded sullenly, shaking out the cramping of your fingers. Usopp hummed in understanding.

"Well for what it's worth, I think it's turning out really well. Maybe you could make plushies of the rest of the crew!" he said with a grin. The compliment made your heart sting with happiness. You hadn't heard one in a while with Zoro so busy, and you returned his grin with a bright one of your own. Determination dulled the ache in your hands as you looked down to your project.

"Why don't you sit outside with us? You can bring that along and enjoy the sun." he offered. You nodded after a second. Spending time around your friends would help the loneliness that had seeped into your bones.

You joined the rest of the crew outdoors, giggling at the way your captain, Usopp, and Chopper all made each other screech through their various antics, joined occasionally by Brook and Franky. Brook tried to ask to see your panties, and even as your foot landed on his skull, a smile curved your lips. You'd forgotten what it was like to spend time with your friends like this, having been so caught up with Zoro being busy.

You made some serious progress on your plushie in between shared jokes and laugher, and by the time you were ready to go to sleep, you were finishing the last stitch by candle light. Zoro was on night watch as usual, leaving you in your shared bedroom by yourself. Again. You sighed, stroking the plushie's face gently like you would your boyfriend's. It felt... comforting- like you could pretend it was his sun kissed skin. Warmth flooded your face as you realized how ridiculous you must have looked. You shook your head, discarding the idea. He had pushed you to this point. Right?

You sighed heavily, the loneliness coming crashing down again as you settled into the cold blankets. You tried to push the thoughts of being alone out of your head as you cuddled the replacement Zoro to your chest.

"Dumbass" you muttered to the plush as you drifted off.

~~~~

You woke up shockingly refreshed. You hadn't slept that well in a while, not since you were starved of your boyfriend's attention. Dragging the plushie with you, you rose and got dressed before stepping out of the room, almost running directly into a solid wall of muscle. Calloused hands grabbed your shoulders as you stumbled to avoid the sudden obstacle.

"Oi. Careful."

Your heart flipped at the sound of his voice and you whipped your gaze up.

"Zoro!" Your eyes brightened, and a grin puffed your cheeks. You slammed yourself into him, hugging him tightly.

His arms wrapped around you lightly before patting your shoulder as a way of asking you to pull back.

"Whatcha got in your hand?"

Your face heated as you shoved the plushie behind your back, having forgot you still had it with you.

"Umm nothing?"

He raised a single brow.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing important?" you tried as he backed you into the room step by step. He kicked the door shut without breaking eye contact.

"If it's nothing important why are you hiding it then?" He smirked at you, and you wanted to smack the knowing curve of his mouth off his face.

"...It's embarrassing" you finally mumble, looking to the side. Faster than you could realize, Zoro's arm sped around your waist and yanked the plush from your hands. You gasped, and reached in vain for his hand. He placed one hand on the top of your head as you struggled, keeping you from jumping up to grab it from him.

"Is this... me?"

You groaned in defeat. There was no hiding it anymore.

"Yeah"

He chucked heartily, ruffling the top of your head.

"Cute. It can never compare to the real thing though" he teased. You scowled playfully and crossed your arms.

"It's only to keep me company when you're so busy!"

Zoro laughed, flopping down on the bed and tossing you the plush.

"Whatever you say. Now go get some breakfast before curlybrows kicks down this door. I need sleep."

You caught the mini-Zoro with a slightly ache in your chest. Not even a 'love you' or a kiss? You plastered on a happy energy as you walked out the door. As soon as the door closed, you looked at the plush in your arms in defeat, giving it a small forehead kiss to make up for the one the real Zoro had neglected. It helped a little, and you could focus on the short but sweet interaction you had with your boyfriend, even if it wasn't everything you wanted, or needed.

You walked into the dining area with the plush still cradled in your arms. The crew seemed excited to see your skill, asking you to make plushies of all of you. You agreed, with the promise that Nami would let you use more money than your usual allowance to buy the necessary materials.

The day passed as usual with the Strawhats. A mid-morning skirmish with a weak band of pirates gave you a little bit of exercise, with the Monster Trio wanting to blow off steam the most. Nami didn't even bother getting up from her lounge chair, flicking through her fashion magazine. Zoro didn't even talk to you during or after the skirmish, only tossing you a small victory smile as he went straight back to training. You sighed, clutching the plush tightly as you curled up under the tree on the deck with a book. You couldn't focus on the words. You were so used to reading aloud to Zoro while he "napped" beside you that it felt strange to not read aloud. Glancing at the rest of the crew, you got up with a faked yawn and wandered back to your room.

You flopped on the bed, disheartened and bored out of your skull. Your gaze fell on the plush, and you hugged it to your chest before kissing the top of its head.

"At least you're always here"

Your eyes fell on the abandoned book on your blanket. You sighed in embarrassment, but knew it would make you feel better to do it. You picked it up, and began to read aloud to mini Zoro. It felt natural, like he was actually there with you. A smile curved your lips slightly at the familiarity. Maybe... just maybe... it would be okay to let yourself believe that he was spending time with you.

Later that day, Zoro came back to the room exhausted, groaning as he hit the bed. You stroked his freshly showered hair and massaged his shoulders and arms as he fell into a slumber without a word. You swallowed down your disappointment and fell asleep beside him, waking to an empty bed.

The next day felt less lonely, and you didn't notice Zoro's absence as much with the plush by your side. When asked about it, you said you wanted to see how the design would wear before beginning the other crewmate's plush's, and it's not like you minded that it was of your boyfriend. Chopper took particular interest in the plushie, finding it adorable. The two of you played games together, Chopper even considering the plushie the third player you had to play for.

Unbeknownst to you, ever since meeting you for that brief moment in the morning after his nightwatch, Zoro had felt something missing from his life. He couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he did know that when he saw you on the deck cuddling that damn plushie like you loved it, a spike of... something... struck him. It should be him that you were showing affection. Well, it was him technically, but it wasn't at the same time. You were acting like that damn stuffed thing was actually him, instead of a thing. He sucked his teeth before beginning his next set of reps. What the hell was he feeling? You still gave him massages at night and... and... hm... When was the last time we actually spent any time together? ...Shit.

"Okay. Now it's your turn!" Chopper proclaimed as he finished his turn. You took the dice and rolled, moving your character a few spaces and drew a card. Familiar heavy footsteps vibrated the wood underneath you as your boyfriend approached you. You purposely ignored him.

"Okay, now mini-Zoro's turn!" you said cheerfully. Chopper made the plush grab the dice in his small hands and roll them one by one, and handed him a card face up so you could both see what hand he had.

"Oi" he called quietly. Chopper looked up, but you didn't move.

"Oh! real Zoro! Are you done training?"

"For today, yeah."

You interrupted their small chat.

"Chopper your turn" you reminded the small reindeer. Chopper made his turn, pulling ahead of your little character on the board with a small cheer.

You laid down two cards, and rolled the dice.

"Wow, smart move!" Chopper said, moving the mini-Zoro to make him "talk". You giggled.

"Why thank you, Zoro" you said, stressing his name. You felt your boyfriend stiffen behind you. You both knew now you were being petty, and you both knew he really did kind of deserve it. With a sigh, he stood. If that's how you were going to play it, he had to figure out how to make it up to you.

He walked away, thinking. How could he make it up to you? You'd been keeping your shared room tidy despite him just tossing his clothes and things on the floor in exhaustion. You'd massage his muscles on particularly hard days, and even snuck bottles of water near his sake when he was training. In return, he'd basically ignored you without explanation, exchange a few words here and there but there wasn't even any physical affection besides that brief hug when you'd literally stumbled into him.

You needed something special for dealing with him these last few weeks. He'd need some help from that damn cook, but for you, he'd do anything. He stalked towards the kitchen, slamming open the door. The blonde hardly flinched, glancing back with a glower.

"What."

"I need food."

"You can fuckin wait for dinner."

Zoro swallowed back an insult he crossed his arms and leaned his elbows on the counter, staying well out of the kitchen.

"'s not for me" he mumbled.

"No? Did Luffy send you again? I told that damn glutton to wait just 5 minutes for a snack"

"Wha- No! It's for her."

Sanji turned around with an evil smirk.

"Oh, finally realize you were neglecting your girlfriend, and now you're trying to suck up to her with my food?"

"Damn ero-cook. Fine! I'll figure something else out!" Zoro snapped at the blonde. Sanji sucked his teeth.

"Calm your man tits, Marimo. I'll do it for her, not your dumb fuckin ass." He turned around and started to take out ingredients for your favorite dessert.

Zoro breathed deeply, nodding at the cook's back once before stalking out of the kitchen.

~~~~

You felt a little bad about being so petty to Zoro earlier. Did he deserve it? Yes. Well... Maybe? He was really busy, and a partnership wasn't always 50-50, not when one person can't give as much as they want to a relationship when they're so busy with something. You just wished he could tell you he was going to be busy so he couldn't give you the attention he usually did.

You sighed, looking down at the plushie in your arms. You wished you were the one being held, or that you were holding a warm, living, breathing being you loved in your arms. Walking back to your shared room from dinner you gnawed on your lip, concerned. Zoro wasn't at dinner. Did you go too far? No. He would've called you out right there and then if you had. So why-

Oh.

Your body froze in the doorway, hand still resting on the handle. Soft light echoed through the room, pillows and blankets scattered into soft piles with a tray full of your favorite dessert nestled between them. One soft mound was occupied by your favorite swordsman, shirtless and in grey sweats lounging easily with a furrow on his face. He looked up quickly as the door opened, slowly getting to his feet.

"Hey."

"Zoro?"

"Umm. Yeah. I uh... I'm sorry for neglecting you, and we should... spend time? um. Together. Spend time together. For you. I mean to make it up to you."

"...oh. I'd uh... really like that" your smile started small and embarrassed, and grew into a bright grin as he held out his arms for a hug.

You looked at them for a second before leaping at him and slamming your body against his, wrapping your arms around him. His grunt turned into a breathless chuckle as he caught you. You breathed in his scent, took in the warm skin under your hands, the beating of his heart. He nosed your temple before landing a kiss on it.

“Don’t let me get away with that shit again, got it? Come beat my ass if I ever start to take you for granted again. You’re… everything to me.”

You pulled back and met his gaze, eyes shining with emotional wonder.

“I’ll beat your ass so hard” you promised cheekily. He snorted.

“Promise?”

His calloused palm scratched pleasantly against your skin as the fingers of one hand curled around the side and back of your neck, thumb brushing your cheekbone. You leaned into the touch greedily, drinking up the attention like sand soaks up water. His face was closer.

“I promise” you whisper, eyes flicking between his gaze and his lips. A small smirk curls one end of his mouth, making your breath hitch. He noticed.

“Good.”

Zoro was a man who never apologized with words, believing that actions are much more important than honeyed words. His kiss conveys it. His chapped lips mold to yours tenderly, lovingly. He was warm, his breath hot. His hand on your face held you to him, while his other wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his body.

You thought of all the loneliness he had caused you, how little he communicated, and how frustrating he was. How he seemed to care more for training than your relationship, and therefore about you. Yet you couldn’t have it any other way. He drove you mad because he slashed a way into your life and heart that could never be filled by anything or anyone else. You loved him.

Fuck, I love him.

#one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #one piece #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #roronoa zoro #one piece x y/n #one piece smut

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months

Note

Valentine’s Day smut w Ethan Landry since tomorrow Valentine’s Day and I’m kinda lonely 🥲

I ended up going all in on this lmao. It's 3.6k words, I hope you like it!!!

The Admirer - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After swearing off Valentine's Day, your secret admirer gives you hope that not all guys suck.

Contains: *Oral - f and m recieving, fluff, inexperienced!Ethan*

A/N: I got another request after this one for a non-smut Valentine's Day fic, and I might not make it to that one today. I'm so sad about it😫

Valentine’s Day, or as you liked to call it ‘Just another regular day’, isn’t something you celebrated. You used to hope that someone would do something special for you, but after your previous boyfriend dropped the ball every single year and didn’t see the point of celebrating it when you’d go all out for him, you stopped caring about the holiday. This year, with you being single, you were happy that you weren’t going to feel disappointed by the lack of someone else’s effort.

As you got up to get ready, your roommate was heading out the door to get to her first class early.

“Awww,” you heard her say, angling your head to see what she was talking about. “There’s some balloons and roses out here.”

“Who do you think left it for you?” you asked, as she shook her head.

“No babe, this is for you. Look!” She brought the basket containing all the cute Valentine’s Day stuff over to you. You glanced at the tag, seeing your name. “This is so cute! It doesn’t say who it’s from, though.”

“This is probably some kind of prank,” you scoffed, as she rolled her eyes.

“What college kid is going to spend that kind of money on long stemmed red roses for a prank?” she asked, smiling at you. “You have a secret admirer!”

You tried to fight the smile that was forming on your lips, but you couldn’t. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.

“Ooh, they left a card, too,” she said, pulling the envelope out of the basket. “Open it!”

“Okay, okay. Jeez,” you said, peeling the heart-shaped sticker that was sealing the envelope.

You smiled as you started to read it, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“What does it say?” she squealed, as you giggled at her excitement. “Sorry, this is just so cute. I need to know.”

“Okay,” you sighed, “It says: I hope you don’t mind me doing this for you. I think you’re really special, and you deserve to be treated like you are. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight if you’re interested. I know it’d be easier for you to make that decision if you know who I am, but I’m a little nervous. I got you a present, and if you do want to take a chance with me, I’d like you to wear it. I’ll see you around today, and if you are wearing it, I’ll meet you in the flower garden at seven.”

Your roommate saw a jewelry box sitting in the basket, “Oh shit, this must be what he wants you to wear!”

She grabbed it and handed it to you. As you opened the box, you smiled at the sweet gesture. “It’s a necklace with a little heart on it,” you squealed, showing her before snapping the box shut.

“Are you going to wear it?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, I think I can give whoever that did all this for me a chance,” you said, taking the necklace out of the box and hooking the clasp around the back of your neck.

“He said he’ll see you around today, I wonder who it is,” she sat there thinking. “I bet it’s someone you already know.”

“That’s the thing, I know a lot of people. Fingers crossed that it isn’t the creepy English professor,” you sighed, starting to get nervous.

“I don’t think it’s him. There’s no way he’d walk into our dorms with roses and balloons and drop them off outside a student’s door,” she said, “Okay, get up! You need to get ready so you can figure out who this is!”

You made it through your first two classes of the day, and still had no idea who your secret admirer was. You were hoping that it would be obvious. When you sat down to have lunch with your friends, Tara looked over and saw the necklace.

“Aww, that’s so cute! Is it new?” she asked, as Ethan and Chad walked up to the table, sitting down with their lunch.

“Yeah, someone left some stuff outside of my dorm for me this morning. This was in a jewelry box,” you smiled, as Tara started to get excited.

“Do you know who left it?” Mindy asked, glancing over to Ethan.

“No, but whoever it is wants me to meet them in the flower garden at seven,” you smirked, “I’m really excited.”

Ethan was trying to fight the smile on his face as Chad fist-bumped him under the table.

“That’s really sweet, I bet he’s a good dude,” Chad said, taking a bite of his food.

“I hope so. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you said, “I was hoping I’d figure out who it was before tonight. The card that was with the stuff said he’ll see me around today.”

“Maybe you already have seen him today,” Mindy mumbled as she scrolled through her phone.

“Yeah, maybe,” Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was starting to wonder what your reaction would be later in the night when you walked out to the flower garden and saw him sitting there. As happy as you were with what he’d done for you, he was still scared of rejection. “I think I need to get to my next class.”

“Dude, it doesn’t start for thirty minutes,” Chad said, before noticing the anxiety on Ethan’s face. “But I don’t blame you for wanting to beat the heavy foot traffic.”

“Yeah, it can get a little crazy. I’ll see you guys later,” Ethan said, standing up and throwing away the rest of his food.

“That was weird,” Mindy said, as Chad nudged her with his foot under the table. “What?”

After lunch, the rest of the day flew by. When you made it back to your dorm, your roommate helped you get ready.

“You look so cute!” she said, taking in your appearance. You didn’t know what your secret admirer would be wearing, so you were really hoping you weren’t underdressed.

“Yeah, but what if he shows up in like, a suit or something,” you laughed, looking down at the outfit.

“This guy has to know you. I highly doubt he’d show up like that,” she said, adding some light blush to your cheeks. “You look hot, don’t overthink it.”

You grabbed your phone, the ‘6:40’ on the screen making you nervous.

“Fuck, I need to go. I’m going to be late.”

“Be safe. Text me if you need me,” she smiled, walking you to the door.

The February air was chilly as it started to get darker outside. Your hands slid inside your jacket pockets as you walked the path to the garden. The only flowers bloomed were the winter ones, but the fountains and the soft glow of the lights on the ground made everything look so beautiful in the distance. You saw someone sitting on the bench, your heart racing as you stepped closer.

“Ethan?” you asked, your eyes adjusting to see one of your best friends sitting there. You were relieved when you saw him in his normal attire.

“Hey,” he said, “Sorry if this is a little weird.”

You smiled at him as you sat beside him on the bench.

“You’re the one that left me that stuff this morning?” you asked as he rubbed his hands against his lap.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that it’s me.”

“Why would I be disappointed?” you asked, taking one of his hands in yours, attempting to calm his nerves. He smiled at the gesture. “I’m happy it’s you.”

“Really?” he smiled, “I’ve been so nervous all day.”

“If you would’ve asked me out, I would’ve said yes. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you did all this for me, but you didn’t have to,” you said, as he started to rub his thumb against the top of your hand.

“You’re worth it. I got the idea the other day when we were at Tara’s, and you were talking about your ex never doing anything special for you. It bummed me out because I think you’re amazing and deserve the world. I thought today would be the perfect time to shoot my shot,” he started to laugh, “If I knew you were interested, I would’ve said something sooner.”

“I think you picked the perfect time,” you said, as his eyes looked between yours and your lips. He started to lean in, but then he just stopped.

“Uh, maybe we should get to dinner,” he said, looking away and standing up.

He grabbed your hand as you stood up. You started to walk towards the garden exit when you stopped him.

“Wait,” you said, standing in front of him. He looked confused as you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. You stood on your tippy toes as he leaned down to kiss you. He had a goofy smile on his face when you pulled away. “I thought this was the perfect spot for our first kiss.”

“I think it’s the perfect spot for our second one, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again. “Now, let’s go to dinner.”

“Okay,” you giggled.

He held your hand as you walked down the sidewalk towards the restaurants on campus. You bumped into Chad and Tara outside of the cute little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the friend group regularly liked to go to. Chad was excited, while Tara was confused.

“Wait! Ethan was your secret admirer?” she asked, looking up to Chad. She stared him down as she realized he already knew. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you tell her everything,” Chad said, motioning to you, “Mindy knew, too.”

“What the fuck?” she said, smiling as she looked at your hand in Ethan’s. “You better treat her right.”

“I will,” he said, “We’re going to dinner, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Chad shook his head, “No, I’m staying at Tara’s tonight.”

“Oh, cool. You guys have fun,” he said, waving as you walked into the restaurant.

Chad and Tara walked in a few minutes later, sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. They didn’t want to make things weird, even though you kept catching Tara glance over to you.

“So, you had no idea it was me?” he asked, after the waitress took the drink order.

“No, I didn’t think you were interested in me.” His eyes went wide.

“I’ve always been interested. Since the first day Tara invited you to have lunch with us,” he smiled, “Chad tried to push me to ask you out.”

“So why didn’t you?” you questioned, as the drinks were sat down in front of you.

“I guess it was the whole ‘the hot girl could never want the dorky virgin’ thing,” you started to laugh.

“If anything, I think it’s hot that you’re a virgin,” you smirked, his cheeks turning pink as he sat across from you. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s the innocence factor.”

“So, if we had sex, would you be less into me?” he started to get embarrassed, “Wait, forget I said that. That was dumb.”

Watching him get so flustered as he spoke and stumble over his words was adorable. You didn’t want to keep the conversation sexual with it being the first date, but you did need to assure him.

“No, it would be even hotter that you wanted to do that with me,” you smirked, taking his hand in yours on top of the table. “But there’s no rush for that. I don’t want you to think it’s a deal breaker for me if you want to wait.”

“Okay, that’s good to know,” he said, moving his hand from yours so the waitress had room to set the food down. “Thank you,” he said to her as she walked away.

After both of you ate, Ethan wasn’t ready for the night to end.

“Do you want to come to my dorm? We could watch a movie or something,” he said, lacing his fingers in yours.

“Sure,” you smiled, as he led the way. “As long as it’s something that’s so romantic it’ll make me cry.”

He started to laugh, “Deal.”

When you made it to the dorm, he suggested Titanic.

“You know it’s three hours long, right?” you asked, sitting on his bed.

“It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you,” he shrugged, grabbing his laptop. “As long as that’s okay with you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

You snuggled against him as he pushed play, his arm wrapping around you as he held you close. His hand started to rub your side; the simple motion very soothing.

“Okay, I need to sit up for a minute or I’m going to fall asleep,” you said, removing your head from his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind if you fell asleep on me,” he said, turning his head to kiss you.

“Yeah, but then I’d ruin the rest of the date,” you said, kissing him again.

His hand went to the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. Your lips flowed so well with his. You were both getting turned on when he pulled away. You had a confused look on his face, and as badly as he wanted to keep going, he cared about you too much.

“I don’t want you to think this is all I want from you,” he said, his breathing heavy.

“I know it’s not, but I told you earlier, we can wait as long as you want to.”

You laid your head back on his chest, trying to focus on the movie when you noticed the bulge in his jeans. It took everything in you to turn the attention back to the movie. You almost felt wrong to feel this way, but you’d known him for almost a year. It wasn’t like this was the first time the two of you had spent time together.

As Rose and Jack started to fall in love, you felt his hand rubbing against your side again. You didn’t feel like you could fall asleep this time as the movie started to get interesting.

“Hey,” Ethan said, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Mhm,” you said, angling your neck so his lips could reach yours. The position wasn’t that comfortable for you, and he could tell, so he scooted you off of him and hovered over you.

“Is this okay?” he asked, leaning in closer. You nodded before he connected his lips to yours. His hand went to your hip as yours went to his hair. When your shirt started to slip up a little and his fingers brushed against the exposed skin, you gently pushed him off you.

His eyes were dark with lust, you were sure yours looked the same.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, “I’m sorry If I did.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just, uh, fuck,” you sighed as he waited for you to continue, “You’re really, uhm…fuck it. You’re making me wet.”

“Really?” he smirked, trying to hide his excitement that his lack of experience didn’t seem to matter.

“Yeah, the way you’re kissing me is just…ugh,” you groaned, the sexual frustration evident to Ethan.

“You could let me take care of you,” he said, his hand running along your thigh over your jeans.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” you questioned; he quickly nodded his head. “But what about you, though?”

“We can talk about that after,” he said, leaning back down to kiss you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He started to slide your shirt up your torso as you sat up a little to make it easier for him to pull it over your head. His mouth started to kiss along the newly exposed skin, stopping at the top of your breasts.

“Can you help me with this?” he laughed, as you reached behind yourself and unhooked it. “Okay, I think I’ve got it from here.”

He slid the straps down your arms and tossed your bra to the other side of the room. You started to whimper when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling across it before he switched to the other side. His hands were running along your thigh, over your pussy and up to the button of your jeans.

When he unbuttoned them and started to slide the material down your legs, the anticipation was killing you. You felt how his mouth moved against your nipples, desperate to know how good his mouth would feel when he ate you out. Your whimpers got louder at his actions and your own thoughts.

He started to kiss lower, your body squirming underneath him.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Mhm,” your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you even lower over the material of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, leaning back to slide those down your legs, too. “If what I’m doing doesn’t feel good, will you tell me?”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, but yes, I will,” you smiled, your breathing heavy.

He leaned in, the simple lick to your clit making your hips jolt. He looked back up at you, “That felt good, keep doing that.”

His tongue flicked again as he watched you. Your hand went to his hair when you looked down at him, the eye contact turning you on even more.

“Oh fuck,�� you moaned, as his tongue dipped inside of you. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

The praise you were giving him went straight to his throbbing cock. He was proud of himself, happy that he was making you feel good. He’d thought about this so many times, and this was better than he could’ve ever imagined.

His mouth continued to move against you, going back to your clit as he slipped a finger inside your core that was dripping with both his spit and your own arousal.

“Right there,” you gasped as he angled his finger just right.

“Can I use two?” he asked, as he pulled away from your sensitive clit.

“Please,” you said, as he added another finger. “Oh my god.”

“That feel good?” he asked, watching the way your eyebrows knitted together and your jaw dropped.

“Yes,” you moaned out, his fingers making your orgasm start to build.

Your pussy started to occasionally flutter around his fingers. He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he knew it must’ve felt good as your moaning got louder. His mouth went back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, as his fingers and mouth kept moving. He felt like he could cum at the feeling of your walls spasming around his fingers, not to mention the borderline-pornographic moans falling out of your mouth.

“How was that?” he asked, crawling up the bed to lay beside you.

“Holy fuck,” you said, your breathing still labored. “That was perfect.”

The throbbing in his cock was starting to get painful as he waited for you to catch your breath. He didn’t want to ask you to do anything for him, because he wanted you to know that everything he’d done for you earlier in the day wasn’t to get into your pants. It was to show you how much he cared about you.

“So…about me taking care of you…” you smirked at him, “Can I?”

“Only if you want to,” he said, “No pressure.”

“Oh, I want to,” you said crawling on top of him.

He sat up a little as you helped him take his shirt off. When you kissed his neck, he started to smile. It felt good, but he also felt the necklace he gave you brushing against him.

As you kissed over his chest and down his abs, he couldn’t stop watching the way your ass stuck up in the air. He almost wanted to cave and fuck you, but he was determined to hold out, at least until next time.

You quickly unbuttoned his jeans as he lifted a little so you could slide them down, grabbing onto his boxers as you did so. His cheeks reddened as he was fully exposed in front of you, nervous about what you thought.

“The shy guys always have the biggest dicks,” you sighed, licking his tip. You watched him as you teased him with the gentle licks, before focusing on taking him in your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as you started to suck. “That feels so good.”

Your mouth kept moving, your drool sliding down the rest of his cock that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You started to stroke him, the combination of that and your mouth making his orgasm quickly creep up.

His hand went to your hair as his hips started to thrust a little, making you gag around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, the pretty sound making you suck a little harder.

His eyes screwed shut as he released his hot cum in your mouth. His legs were tingling as you were overstimulating him a little, whines flooding out of his mouth.

“Sorry, babe,” you said after pulling away, “I couldn’t help it. Your cum tastes so good.”

It was your turn to crawl up beside him, laying your head on his chest as he caught his breath.

“Can we do that again sometime?” he asked, his fingers tracing along your back.

“Whenever you want,” you giggled, as he got quiet. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just how hot it was to see you naked wearing nothing but that necklace,” he mumbled, getting sleepy.

When you sat up, his eyes opened. He didn’t want you to go anywhere. When you started to smile as you posed on the bed beside him, he started to laugh.

“Will you draw me like one of your French girls?” you asked, referencing the movie that you didn’t get to finish.

“The best I can do is a stick figure with boobs.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut

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libraryofgage · 5 months

Text

Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

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senp1i · 2 months

Text

Bestfriends | Jang Wonyoung x M!R

WC: 2496, anon requested from last year also I used Grammarly for the first, how'd u guys like it lmao, I'm not sure If ill use it again tho, it makes everything bland IMO but less work for my sickass so ++ sorry for the smut, i know the req said fluff but.. i got too excited lmao

Wonyoung and Y/N had been close since they were little demons running wild in their neighborhood. They were damn near conjoined twins, always finding trouble to get into together. Whether it was sneaking out in the middle of the night or raiding the kitchen for midnight snacks, they did everything as a dynamic duo.

As they got older, that closeness only intensified. Y/N started noticing the little things about Wonyoung that made his heart go faster than a F1 car - the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, or how her slight gum showed whenever she flashed that bright, smile. Not to mention Wonyoung was a total smokeshow inside and out, with a fun, chic personality to match her goddess looks.

Y/N had it bad, simping for his best friend in the most cliche way possible. But could you blame the dude? Wonyoung was straight-up perfect - smart as a nerd without the glasses, kind as a nun, with a decent enough sense of humor and just the most beautiful girl. She had a rocking body too, not too curvy but with an ass that just wouldn't quit. Y/N's testostrones start raging just thinking about her.

He knew he had to make a move before it was too late. Wonyoung was starting to get attention from the other dudes at school, and it was only a matter of time before some fuckboy tried to swoop in and steal her up. Y/N couldn't let that happen - Wonyoung was his, had been since day one, even if she didn't know it yet. The plan was simple: confess feelings, get the girl, and ride off into the sunset or whatever cliche, What could go wrong?

Famous last words.

Y/N had been preparing himself up all day to finally spit it out. He was gonna meet Wonyoung at their favorite hangout spot in the park after school and pour his heart out. Butterflies were going apeshit in his stomach as he approached the park bench, hands sweaty and shaky.

That's when he saw it - Wonyoung, sitting there looking as gorgeous as ever, with some random kid down on one knee in front of her. A fucking confession. Y/N's heart fell into his gut as the world seemed to stop.

"Oh fuck no..." he muttered under his breath.

The guy was a senior from what Y/N could tell, though he didn't recognize the bastard off the top of his head. He was decent-looking, Y/N supposed, but he was biased as hell. No one was good enough for HIS Wonyoung.

From a distance, Y/N watched in horror as the guy declared his feelings, pulling out a bouquet of roses from behind his back like a damn rom-com from the nineties. He felt like he was gonna launch at the fuckboy as Wonyoung accepted the flowers, a small smile playing on her lips. Wasn't she gonna shut this guy down?

Y/N wanted to turn away but found himself frozen, a bystander in his own nightmare. He watched as Wonyoung leaned in and...hugged the guy. What the actual fuck was going on?

His brain jumped to the worst possible conclusions - were Wonyoung and this random dude already a thing? Had Y/N been living in delusion this whole time, pining after someone who was already taken? Bile filled his mouth.

As the guy pulled away from the hug, still smiling at Wonyoung with tender affection in his eyes, Y/N felt like he was going to lose his shit for real. This was happening, right in front of his eyes. His moment, his chance at happiness, being ripped away.

Head spinning, Y/N turned and booked it before he could witness anything else. He ran blindly, fighting back the lump of emotion forming in his throat. He had been so ready to lay it all on the line, and now...now his heart was shattered into pieces.

Over the next few days, Y/N avoided Wonyoung like the plague, skipping all their usual hangouts and making excuses whenever she tried to reach out. He just couldn't stand to be around her, not after having his feelings so violently crushed. It was too damn painful.

Wonyoung wasn't having it though. She was too damn stubborn, too persistent to let this go on without getting to the bottom of it.

"Dude, what the fuck is up with you lately?" she cornered Y/N after somehow tracking him down in the school courtyard after school.

Y/N averted his eyes, clenching his jaw as he fought to keep his composure. "Nothing's up. I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Wonyoung scoffed, seeing right through the flimsy excuse. "You've been avoiding me for days, and I want to know why."

There was a tense pause as Y/N remained stubbornly silent, staring at a random spot on the ground. Wonyoung sighed in exasperation, planting her hands on her hips.

"Did I do something to piss you off? Because if I did, I wish you'd just tell me instead of giving me the cold shoulder, N/nie"

Y/N squeezed his eyes shut briefly, pained by how stupid Wonyoung was being and the fact that her nickname still made his stomach get fuzzy. Of course, she had no idea about his feelings, how crushed he felt watching her accept that other guy's flowers, even hugging him.

When he spoke again, Y/N's voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "I saw you...with him...the other day in the park."

Wonyoung's brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before realization seemed to dawn on her. "Oh...you mean [whatever name] ? When he asked me out?"

Y/N flinched at how casually she referred to the guy's name as if i wasn't a big deal. As if their friendship, their closeness, didn't mean anything next to this new romantic prospect.

"I can't believe you'd even entertain that loser," Y/N bit out bitterly, venom in his tone. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Woah, harsh," Wonyoung laughed lightly, though her eyes had taken on a more serious glint. "For your information, I turned him down. Like, completely rejected his ass."

Y/N's head whipped up in surprise, eyes widening almost comically. "You...you did?", voice cracking mid way too.

"Of course I did, dumbass," Wonyoung rolled her eyes, gentleness returning to her eyes as she closed the distance between them. "Did you think I'd go for some random guy over you?"

The words hung heavy in the air between them as Y/N struggled to process them. Over him? What did that mean exactly? Surely Wonyoung couldn't mean...

Clearing his throat, "W-What are you saying?" Y/N stammered out, heart beating fast in his chest.

Wonyoung reached up to cup his face lovingly, so close now that he could see the faint dusting of redness on her face, and could smell her sweet fruity perfume. She stared into his eyes with an intensity that made his knees go weak.

"I'm saying…- *sigh* I like you, dummy," she murmured, voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "I've had feelings for you for a long time, but I didn't know how to tell you. I was waiting for you to make a move."

Y/N felt like the wind was knocked out of him as Wonyoung's words slowly sank in. This whole time...Wonyoung had liked him back? He had been stressing out for nothing, making assumptions and jumping to conclusions without even giving her a chance to explain.

"You...you like me?" Y/N asked dumbly, hardly daring to believe it was real. "Like, like-like me?"

"Yeah, dumbass," Wonyoung chuckled fondly, rolling her eyes again. "I like-like you, a lot. So are you gonna kiss me already or what?"

She didn't have to ask twice as Y/N surged forward, capturing Wonyoung's plush lips in a sloppy, desperate kiss. It was clumsy and inexperienced, driven purely by pent-up feelings, but it was absolutely flabbergasting. Wonyoung made a soft *mmph* of surprise before melting into it, her arms winding around his neck.

They kissed again and again, getting lost in the sensation of finally having each other. Years of hidden crushing and repressed lust came pouring out in a strong wave. Y/N wanted to drown in Wonyoung forever, to burn up in her flames.

When they finally detached, panting and flushed, Y/N cupped Wonyoung's face gently. "I thought I lost you," he murmured, resting his forehead against hers.

Wonyoung let out a breathless laugh, eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and glee. "You could never lose me, dummy. I'll always be yours, no matter what."

And as Y/N pulled her close for another kiss, the courtyard around them faded into the background until it was just Y/N and Wonyoung in their little bubble. Their lips moved together urgently, all teeth and tongues, everything started gushing out again,

Y/N knew in that moment, as Wonyoung whimpered softly into his mouth, that she was telling the goddamn truth. They'd been two peas in a pod since childhood, attached at the damn hip through thick and thin. But right now, with their bodies pressed together so personally, they became one - two puzzle pieces finally slotting together after years of being one halves.

And fuck, did it feel good to be home.

Wonyoung kissed back like she did everything else - with out-of-control passion and zero fucks given. She gave as good as she got, nibbling at Y/N's lower lip teasingly before licking it with her tongue. Her hands moved freely, bunching up the fabric of his shirt as she pressed even closer, determined to get rid of any remaining space between her and his bodies.

"Fuck, baby...wanted this for so long," Y/N muttered when they briefly pulled back for air, his voice low and filed with lust.

"Then take it," Wonyoung shot back breathlessly, her eyes dark and hooded as she pushed her hips against his, grinding on his erection. "I'm yours, remember?"

That was all the encouragement Y/N needed. Tangling one hand in her silky hair, he angled her head to the side and attacked her neck with sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. Wonyoung let out a needy little whine, arching into him desperately as he found her sensitive spots

"Y/N...shit, that feels so good," she moaned, nails scratching over his clothed back as he showered her pale skin with attention.

Hearing her say his name like that, all breathy and horny, just drove Y/N more. He wanted to mark her up, let the whole world know she was his and his alone. Wanted to make her come undone right there in the yard where anyone could see but of course, they had a reputation to keep as he hoisted Wonyoung up suddenly, grinning at her squeak. Her legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he rushed into the hallway and pinned her against one of the lockers, the metal clanging loudly. Not that either of them cared about being overheard at this point - they were too far gone.

"You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?" Y/N groaned out, rolling his hips, grounding against her clothed vagina teasingly so she could feel how hard he was already. "Been wanting this tight little body for years."

Wonyoung let out a shameless moan at his words, her pupils blown wide with horniness. "Then take it, what are you waiting for?" She ground down against the bulge in his jeans tauntingly. "I'm not gonna break."

It was all the invitation Y/N needed. Crashing their lips back together hornily, he reached down to hitch one of Wonyoung's legs higher on his waist, opening her up further. His other hand skimmed up her thigh, dipping underneath her skirt to tease at the lace waistband of her panties.

"Is this what you want, baby?" he asked against her lips, fingers creeping higher to brush over her damp slit through the skimpy fabric. "You're already so wet for me, wony"

Wonyoung's head lolled back against the lockers with a thud, her chest heaving. "Don't tease, asshole" she retorted shamelessly, squirming against his hand in search of more. "I need you inside me. Now."

Y/N felt his dick throb painfully at her words, at the way she begged for it despite her usual bossy, headstrong personality. Seeing Wonyoung like this, overwhelmed by need and desire for him, was making his brain short-circuit.

Kissing her deeply again, he slid his hand properly into her panties and finally, blissfully, pumped two fingers into her sloppy, wet pussy.. Wonyoung moaned sharply into his mouth, her inner walls fluttering wildly around the thick fingers as she took him into the final knuckle.

"Fuck...you feel so fucking good," Y/N groaned, slowly working his fingers in and out of her tight vagina. She felt like heaven, insanely hot and wet like she was made just for him.

"Harder," Wonyoung whimpered, already twitching pathetically on his hand, completely shamelessly in her pleasure. "I can take it, I wanna feel you tomorrow."

Y/N felt a fresh wave of precum ooze out at her husky demands. He always knew Wonyoung was a brat, but her complete lack of self-consciousness, and her willingness to take whatever he gave was driving him wild, especially in the empty school hallway.

Growling under his breath, Y/N picked up the pace of his pumping, curling his fingers with every pull. The smutty sounds of her slick cunt soon filled the hallway, echoing obscenely with Wonyoung's loud, horny moans.

"That's it, baby...gonna make you feel so good," Y/N murmured hotly against the sweaty side of her throat, biting down to leave a mark. "Want everyone to know who you belong to."

"Yours, 'm yours!" Wonyoung cried out, arching her back almost painfully as she blindly chased her orgasm. Her nails grounded and slid over his shoulders hard enough to sting. "Oh fuck, I'm...I'm gonna..."

Y/N could feel her growing impossibly tighter around his fingers, those velvet walls beginning to twitch wildly. With a groan, he slammed his palm firmly against her clit, sending Wonyoung catapulting over the edge into euphoria.

She came with a sobbing and whiney moan, her whole body tensing up as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Y/N swallowed the desperate sounds spilling from her lips, amazed by how gorgeous she looked in the high of her orgasm. He fingered her through it lovingly, dragging out every last tremble until Wonyoung’s limp and tired against him.

"Good girl, that's it," he murmured adoringly, pressing soft kisses to her sweaty hairline as she clung to him like a koala. "You did so good for me, baby."

Wonyoung merely made a weak, incoherent noise of hum, too orgasmed out to form proper words. She nuzzled against his neck happily, her jagged pants slowly evening out to deep, relaxed breaths.

"Mine," she finally mumbled once she'd got to her senses, voice raspy from all her moans. She punctuated her words with a clumsy nip to his neck, more like a mosquito bite than anything.

Y/N chuckled, squeezing her ass with the hand still under her skirt. "Always."

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dazai-ritualist · 22 days

Note

Hii! Hear me out on this, right, Alastor (in your current yandere husband au) has one-on-one bonding with our lovely Noah. (I have a cat named Noah...lowkey imagining him here.) Idk what dads do with kids but for the sake of plot I'm going to call it hunting. Reader is sitting quietly as Noah tells her all about his day in the forest and how he got to see his food before it was his food! She starts thinking that no amount of nurture can overpower someone's nature. Reader doesn't hate her son...but she's just worried and is trying her best, because in her mind, she's still a single mom and always will be. (Rightfully so) Alastor is egging this on and almost trying to get reader to lose it in front of Noah, to prove something. Other things ! Alastor is def not happy with one kid lmao. Seven years is a long age gap...better hurry up! He wants his Emilia....not because his mother is asking for it or anything like it! Speaking of his mother...god rest her soul man...i lowkey would just marry him for her to be my legal mother (in-law). Rip mom...fly high girl... (Ps, can i please hug you platonically, i literally love you and your writing so much. Please remember that you've made so many cool things and will continue to make cool things no matter which path you go. Love you girly (gn), a little more than Alastor's mom) - Charry Anon

WE’RE GONNA FLY AWAY FROM HERE

[before you read this, read the rest of the story!]

— the more and more alastor influences your son, the more he becomes just like his father. but, why stop at just one child?

— i love u i will make MORE yandere alastor bc hes now my fave

you hated this house. no matter how much alastor tried to hide it, the subtle scent of blood reeked from all over this house.

you oh, so desperately wanted to run away— hop on a train all the way to long island. but, it isn’t so simple anymore. you had a son to think of, a son who’s growing scarily closer to his father.

the thought of hurting noah might have never crossed alastor’s mind, but he wasn’t above threatening it to bring you back home. and above all that, you couldn’t leave him alone with this wolf.

and so, you stayed.

“and then, papa told me to stay quiet… and he shot the turkey! papa took me to his butcher room and showed how get the yummy turkey meat! y’know mama, papa has lots of meat in his butcher room.” your son rambled on, kneeling on a stool by the kitchen counter as you prepare for dinner. “lots of meat, you say?” you raised an eyebrow. “…that sounds really fun, baby.” you sighed.

it’s only been a month since he forced you back. and, noah’s already calling alastor ‘papa’. he tainted your sweet boy’s mind— ‘mama lied to you, she wanted to keep you all to herself. she’s really selfish, but then again, i can’t blame her!’

and, you couldn’t protest. if you did, if you broke the rose-tinted filter alastor created— he would hurt you. not physically, alastor is still a ‘gentleman’. he’d hurt you mentally, break your little mind until you can’t do anything but nod your head.

alastor would never strike his hand on noah. after all, deep down, there’s some part of him that’s still in love with you, albeit in his own twisted way. and, noah is apart of you, alastor couldn’t bear to hurt him, not unless he’s misbehaving…

“mama, can we have the turkey we hunted for dinner?!” noah asked excitedly, slamming his hands against the counter over and over again. “sure, baby… but, remember before..? you got in trouble with mr. yee because you released all his chickens…” you asked, quite desperate. this little boy, the one who finds hunting fun. he is nothing like the one who wanted to become vegan after he found out where chicken comes from, despite failing because of his love for chicken burgers.

“yeah, but papa showed me how fun hunting is!” he squealed. at the mention of papa, alastor laughed, carrying noah from behind, tickling his belly as he kissed your little boy’s head. “talking to mama about our little trip, huh?” alastor grinned.

“ah, alastor… dinner will be ready in a half hour.” you glared at him. “no worries, my love. it just means that i have a half hour to play with our beautiful son!” he smugly said. he saw the hatred in your eyes the moment he said ‘our’.

he was trying to make you lose your shit. make you seem like a hysterical woman. that way, if you even tried to divorce him, noah would be left in his care. now that you were older and wiser, you wouldn’t play into his little trap.

“alright, you two have fun.” you begrudgingly smiled. alastor’s eyes widened, showing his shock for just one split second. alastor nudged noah, “go on for a second. papa wants to talk with mama.”

oh god, what now?

once noah left, alastor went behind you, straddling your waist. “what is it, alastor?” you groaned. “i want another child, darling” he whispered against your ear. “i visited my mother with noah last week, she adored him, my love. she said she’d adore a granddaughter this time. she even picked out a name, emilia.” he rambled on. “as much as i love your mother, i don’t want another child, alastor.” you hissed out.

“oh, but it’s not just my mother, dear. little noah also wants a little brother or sister of his own.” at the thought of a little sister for noah, it would keep him busy, away from alastor, wouldn’t it? he’d gain those brotherly instincts that are so reminiscent of the soft hearted boy you raised.

“…alright…” you frowned. alastor’s grip on your hips tightened as he pressed kisses onto your neck. “good girl.” your head leaned back as you melted into his touch. as much as you didn’t want to, the warm sensation of his soft lips on your skin was to die for. “after dinner, darling.” he grinned, finally leaving you alone.

what had you done to be forsaken with this monster?

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin alastor #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor hc #alastor headcanons #human alastor #alastor the radio demon #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere

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me-and-your-husband · 1 year

Text

mine truly and forever || j. miller

summary: joel comes back to you in whatever way he can. part two of “yours truly and forever”.

warnings: smut, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk

word count: 4k

A/N: this took me awhile to get out, sorry everybody! also, i really didn’t plan on writing a part 2 to this, but the demand was really high. not my best work, so i just fed you all with smut instead lmao

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

You had long since given up hope that Joel was coming back for you.

Every morning, you woke and swallowed down the tightening in your throat, the knot in your stomach. You believed he had moved on. Maybe he found his brother and settled down with Ellie.

Anything was better than what was most likely. Anything was better than him being dead.

You rose with the sun and fell with it too, wondering every day if you’d ever see him again. If you’d ever get to laugh with him, or cry with him, or touch him. Some part of you thought that, maybe, your night spent together was just his desperation for some human touch. All you were to him was a way to satiate his desire. Maybe.

You tried not to think about it, but the thought of him him him seeped into everything you did. Feeding the cows? You thought about Joel. Harvesting? You thought about Joel. Cooking? You thought about Joel. Laying awake at night, eyes flitting across the darkness, searching for something? You thought about Joel.

So, yeah, you’d given up on the idea of him awhile ago.

It had been two years since that night. The night you gave yourself wholly to him. The night you let him into the most intimate parts of your body and soul. Since you let him crawl through you, seeing into your depths.

The first few months after him were honeyed in hope. When your alarm went off, signaling something was trying to breach your perimeter, you rushed to the camera and prayed it was Joel. It was always just some stray infected or moose or something that wasn’t him. As the snow melted, your heart was loyal. You breathed in the belief of his words every morning. The slush on the ground a reminder that he’d be safer in the warm weather, that he’d come back to you sooner. The summer was warm. Your garden thrived, preparing for his return. You ate strawberries on your porch and basked in the golden sun, soaking in the heat. Your skin dripped in sweat, heart dripping in steadfast hope.

In the winter, you faltered. You still hoped for his return, you still believed in his promise, but you started thinking about other possibilities. Though, you rarely entertained them. Another spring passed. And another summer. Another fall, winter, and spring. It was summer now, but the heat was more suffocating, the sunshine more of a nuisance.

Over the last winter, you grit your teeth and weathered your bones. You felt betrayal, deep in your gut. Had he lied? Just to keep you solitary? To keep you from chasing after him? To keep you away?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Did you?

You didn’t know.

You had given him everything, but he couldn’t keep a promise.

You forced yourself to separate the idea of him from who he really was. He was a man before he was yours. He craved the life that would offer him something to do. He craved you, but didn’t he crave others? Did he crave you, or did he crave someone to take care of him?

Who was Joel Miller? Who was he, and who was he to you?

Was he even the type to come back to you? No. Probably not. Not when he’s lived through this for 22 years. Not when he’s seen his friends die. Not when he’s killed. He wasn’t the type to lay down and become a farmhand.

Besides, you saw the way he looked at Ellie. Part of you was sure that he’d never leave that girl. She meant more to him than he’d ever say. He was never just yours. He never would be.

So you shoved the thought of him to the corners of your mind, rejecting it endlessly. You’d never let yourself think too hard about him, only ever letting his image flit about your mind like a lost butterfly. You shut him out and never sought him out again.

Another morning fell into your lap. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sound of alarms ringing out through the property jolted you awake. You rolled your head to the side to stretch a sore muscle, hand reaching under your bed for your rifle. No reason for alarm. Whatever it was, a stray infected or an animal, no doubt, would fall into one of your traps, or you’d pick it off without wasting a single bullet. All in a day’s work.

You slid on the first pair of shoes you could find, slipping out the door and making your way towards where the camera had signalled the breach. You groaned as you realized just how early it was, the sun barely illuminating the ground you stepped on.

You held your rifle out as your eyes scanned the fence line. Nothing. It must have been one of the traps that set off the alarm. Sighing, you push the buttons on the padlock and it opens the gate.

Moving to the nearest trap, you peek the muzzle of the rifle into the hole. It was still dark, but you made out a figure standing at the bottom of the pit.

“Move and I’ll fucking shoot you,” you yelled. No response, just the sound of heavy breathing. “You infected?”

Your name was whispered into the air like a breath of something you never thought you’d hear again. That beautiful, rugged, rich voice. The voice that you loved, so dearly. The voice that you hated.

“Joel?”

“It’s me, honey,” he was breathless. It was almost as if it was his first moment of rest in twenty years.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath faltering for a moment. You didn’t let the tears threatening to pool in your eyes spill. Instead, you threw your rifle to the side and got on your knees, reaching into the dark pit. “Take my hand.”

Extending your hand, you almost immediately felt his large, rough one envelop yours. You used most of your strength to pull him up, him hoisting himself up once he got a good grip. He falls on top of you with the momentum, catching himself before his figure crushes yours. You could feel his heavy breath on your face, painting invisible lines of what you both want. A sea in his eyes, pooling with everything that’s happened since he left you, with everything he wanted to say, everything he wants to say. You lean into him a little, breath hitching and brows furrowing when he finally attaches his lips to yours.

It was like an oxygen mask, breathing you to life. It was more desperate than any kiss you had shared. He was here, in your hands. He was alive. He was heart and flesh and blood and he was with you again.

Your arms pulled him in close until he groaned into your mouth. You pulled away to study his face. He didn’t meet your eyes, instead, absorbing every feature of your face that he had missed for so long.

You began to lift his shirt to see why he had groaned, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Joel,” you warned. “Lift up your shirt.”

“Take me to dinner first, hey?” He chuckled. He was stalling. He didn’t want you to see whatever was under his shirt.

You gave him a warning look before he gave in. Sitting up, you gently lifted his shirt. There wasn’t a concerning amount of blood for once, just small lacerations here and there that might need a few stitches. However, the skin underneath the marks was full of vibrant purples and blues and yellows, painted across the flesh of his abdomen like some sick piece of art. A small gasp left your lips at the sight, but Joel tilted your chin up to look at him, pulling his shirt down with his other hand.

“Just fell, darlin’. I’d do it all again to get to you.”

Heat spread across your face, tinting your cheeks. All the resentment you had for him fizzled away (but was it really resentment if you could forgive him with just one kiss? Or maybe that was just the power Joel had over you).

“Let me patch you up, cowboy,” you said as you stood up, grabbing your rifle and pulling him up with you. “Come on.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Leading him through the house by his hand, the silence settled nicely. Something unspoken lingered between you two, remnants of what happened still drifting. Ideas of what might happen were tempting.

You led him to the bathroom, instructing him to sit on the counter. You opened the cabinet and grabbed everything you’d need.

“It’s like every time we meet, you’re on the verge of death, Miller,” you said as you laid your supplies out.

He grunted. “Not on the verge of death right now, honey. Just a little banged up, is all.” You told him to take off his shirt. He did so without a word of protest. “I’m just lucky I’ve always got my favourite girl to patch me up.” His hands reached for you, wanting you to be close to him. He grabbed your hips and positioned you in front of him, between his legs. You didn’t look away from the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach.

“Not always, apparently,” you muttered under your breath as you began to dab his chest with a damp rag, washing away the brutality of what he went through to get to you. His brows furrowed, his hand moving to your wrist.

“Don’t be like that, honey.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and going back to your task. You were both silent as you cleaned his chest, both avoiding eye contact.

You grabbed the dated peroxide. “Might hurt.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. He made no noise when you applied it to the areas of concern, but the cords in his neck tightened nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you whispered, the desire to sooth him and shut him up with your mouth still clawing at you. He grunts in acknowledgement. You continued to clean him up, till all his wounds were stitched and his skin was clean of blood.

“Done,” you finally spoke, throwing out the dirty rags and cleaning up. You went to move past him to get out of the bathroom, but he slid off the counter and blocked your exit. Your face was only a few inches from his chest. “Joel,” you warned, “let me out.”

“Not 'till you tell me why you’re so mad at me, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff yet soft. His hands slid up and down your arms, which were on your hips.

You tried to push past him again, but he didn't budge.

You huffed, and his eyes softened, large hands moving to cup your face. “You don't know how much I missed you,” he said, brows furrowed.

You closed your eyes. “I do know.” You felt him press his forehead to yours, and you reciprocated, hands moving to hold his wrists. You didn't have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You just wanted him.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips, driving you wild. Everything about him was intoxicating.

His lips found yours again, still needy and fervent, but there was something more. Something hungry. Something growing, something left over.

He pushed you against the bathroom counter, hands moving across your body, touching you everywhere, anywhere he could. His hands ghosted over your breasts, across your thighs, rubbing your hips, caging you in. You whined, “Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. I just need more,” you said, breathless.

At that, he placed you on top of the counter before he lifted your shirt from your body, “Nothin’ underneath? Knew I was comin’,” he said with a smirk. You were breathless as he kissed you again, sliding your pants off your body. He broke from your mouth to lay wet kisses on your neck and chest, biting and sucking his mark into your flesh.

You whimpered when he gently ran a finger over your clothed core, bucking into his hand, desperate for anything more. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, your slick already pooling in your panties. He didn't have it in him to tease you. Not today.

He slid your panties down your legs. You felt the heat of your core come in contact with the air, your slick beginning to drip down your thighs. He dropped to his knees, looking up at you with nothing but pure desire, want, need, and, dare you say, love?

He kisses the soft inside of both thighs, your hands tangling in his hair, before his face hovers over your soaked core. He pressed his head into the inside of your thigh, running a finger through your folds. You moaned at the seating contact, watching as he brought his finger to his lips and captured your slick on his tongue. He moaned, “Missed this pussy.”

He played with your clit experimentally, just to see how wet you could get without his saliva, before the tempting sight of your pussy collapsed him. He dove in like a man starved, licking and sucking, spreading your folds apart to get further inside. Your hands still fisted in his hair as you moaned. He draped one hand across your abdomen to keep you still, hips bucking up into his mouth.

His mouth was a magic ailment, drawing that familiar sensation from you in a matter of no time. The coil in your belly grew, hot and heavy, until his work on your cunt sent you over the edge, gripping his hair and moaning his name.

“That's it, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he said as he worked you through your high. When he noticed you squirming, whispering “s’too much”, he moved from your core and up to your mouth. Your hands spread across his chest, still bare, as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your juices were smeared across his face, glistening in the hair there.

“Take me to bed, cowboy,” you said against his lips.

“Yes Ma’am,” he breathed. He picked you up, wrapping your legs around his body, and carried you to your bedroom. You pressed kisses across his neck and chest as he moved.

When he laid you down on the bed, he caged you underneath him. You reached to his belt, unbuckling it and throwing it to the side. He removed his pants, and you began palming him over his boxers. He was rock hard, eating you out almost getting him there in itself.

“Please,” you said, nearly inaudible. “Will you let me taste you?” You stroked his bulge.

“Fuck, honey. How could I say no to that?”

You rolled so you were on top of him, freeing his thick cock from its constraint. He sat up on the edge of the bed, you sinking between his legs.

You stroked his cock, smearing the precum around the tip. He was sensitive. You could tell he hadn't had anyone since you, and he definitely didn't have the time to take care of himself. He groaned as you began giving kitten licks to his tip, hand fisting in your locks, not guiding you, just needing a place to find solace.

“Gonna be the end of me,” he groaned when you put him fully in your mouth. He threw his head back, tears pricking your eyes when you tried to take him all. He was desperate for his release, but he was desperate to release inside of you even more.

“Baby, m’ not gonna last. Wanna finish inside of you,” he groaned. You lifted your head from his cock, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth, eyes wet.

“So pretty. C’mere,” he said, gesturing to his lap.

You climbed atop him. “Wanna ride you,” you said, sucking into his neck.

“Fuck, okay. Okay, you can ride me honey,” he said. You were absolutely ruining him.

You kissed him silly, straddling his lap. He was so enamoured with you, everything you did. The way you tasted, smelled, sounded. He was pussy drunk.

You parted from him to run his tip through your entrance, still soaked with your cum and his saliva, collecting your wetness. Lining him up with your entrance, you moaned into each other’s mouths when you sunk down onto him. Allowing yourself a moment to feel him sheathed fully inside you, stretching you out, filling you up, letting your body remember the way you blended together, you kissed him with a renewed passion, something you thought had died.

You held onto his shoulders as support, his large hands gripping your hips, gritting his teeth. When you lifted yourself off of him and back down, you set a desperate pace, grinding yourself down on his cock.

“Not gonna last long, pretty thing,” Joel groaned, eyes fixed on where you were connected. You were too set on your release to care, you just knew you wanted him inside you forever.

“Don’t care,” you gritted out, panting and out of breath. The noises filling the air were downright unholy, but neither of you had it in yourself to care. “Want you to fill me up.”

Joel growled, “Fuck, honey. Fill you up so good, you’ll be dripping out of me. That what you want?” He asked, landing a smack to your ass as you bounced on his cock. You moaned. Your release was right around the corner, your cunt clenching hard on his cock, thighs beginning to tremble. Joel moved a hand to circle your clit, hell-bent on getting you there. “So pretty,” Joel said, almost whimpering. “So good for me. Squeezin’ me so good.”

His words went straight to the fire growing in your core, your slick pooling at the base of his cock. Finally, the coil snapped, your orgasm dancing down your legs and up your body. Your thighs and frame trembled as you tried, you really tried, to keep bouncing on his cock, but your thighs were too weak at this point to keep going. Fixed on release, Joel flipped you so you were caged underneath him, barely missing a beat before spearing his cock into you. He swallowed your overstimulated whimpers.

“Gonna make a mess out of you. Fuck, almost there,” he groaned.

“Inside, inside, please,” you choked out, still delirious from your previous orgasm. However, you felt another one building inside of you, the friction of his body as it rubbed against yours added to your previous stimulation was enough to get you there again. You lazily toyed with your swollen clit, not having enough energy to focus, yet you knew it wouldn’t take much.

Joel barely noticed your state as his hips faltered in their pace, hitting that sweet spot so good. You had barely any control left over your body, but as he groaned and the muscles in his front tightened, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up was enough to send you into a frenzy. He groaned into your neck, your loud, wanton moans filling the air. As he filled you to the brim, you shook underneath him, your third orgasm overtaking you.

When he had recovered, Joel looked down to where you both met, taking note of the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock. He grinned, still breathless, as he gently unsheathed himself from your core, watching you squirm and wrinkle your nose at the overstimulation. He laid down next to you, and you naturally curled into him.

It was still morning, the rest of the day still ahead of you, but as Joel pulled the blanket over the two of you and watched your chest heave, he had the feeling that time didn’t matter anymore.

Your eyes fluttered open and met his. You noted how sore your body was, but the pull at your heart was no match. He had been watching you sleep, watching as you cuddled into his warmth and trusted him enough to hold you as you slept. The bright daylight filled the room, lighting up all his features, shining on the pretty grey in his hair and beard.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” he asked, his voice gravelly. You could feel his heart beating as you laid against his chest.

You hummed, “Better than I have in a long time.”

He smiled. There was a soft silence for a while as you just looked at each other, his hand stroking the skin of your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead, down the bridge of your nose, and ending at your lips. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Your easy grin faltered for a moment. “It’s okay. I just…” you breathed in, “I thought you were dead.”

He pulled you into his chest. “I’m okay. ‘M right here, darlin’.”

You leaned into his touch, basking in the knowledge that you weren’t going to lose him again.

“Come back to Jackson with me.”

“Jackson? In Wyoming?”

He nodded.

“Joel, that’s far…”

“I’ve made the trip twice now.”

You were silent for a few moments, thinking. He spoke again. “I know this is your home, and it’s been your home for years. And I-”

“Joel,” you cut him off. “Anywhere you go is my home. I’ll come to Jackson with you.”

Joel Miller’s smile was something rarer than diamonds or gold, but it appeared on his face as real as ever.

Joel kissed you like the world had never ended, like you were his world. That’s because you were.

A week of bliss later, you had packed everything you’d possibly think you’d need on one horse and two backpacks. You’d set all your cattle free to roam and disarmed your alarm system. You had made Joel map out your route to Jackson, ever the planner, going through every minute detail. Nights were spent wrapped around each other, and mornings were spent wrapped around the blankets. You spoke of the life you would have together in Jackson, spoke about Ellie, spoke about everything.

Often, you’d look up at Joel and be met with a punch to the gut. The idea that the man you spent two years of your life praying for, standing right in front of you? It hit you out of nowhere sometimes. It was hard to be thankful in a world like this, in a world that did nothing but take and take and take from you. It was hard to believe that he was really here, that the world gave you something good for once. Sometimes, you’d have to touch him, really touch him, just to make sure he was really here. Just to make sure you hadn’t finally gone crazy and started to imagine him.

You began to fear that the world was going to whisk him away from you. Maybe a clicker would get him, or maybe a stalker. Maybe you’d react too slow, too quick, too late, too poorly, and he’d try to save you. Maybe he’d get another infection. God knows that man does not take care of himself.

These fears plagued your mind day and night, awake and asleep. They brushed your thoughts when he touched you, fingers working you into a puddle, you melting into him. These thoughts were unspoken, never would they be said aloud, or they just might seize you in your sleep and become real.

When you got to Jackson, the fear of losing him never ceased, but you did come to realize something.

You realized that what you were feeling, this utter, disgusting dread and fear of losing the one you love the most, was completely natural.

You loved Joel with all of yourself, and you knew that if anything happened to him, you’d lose all of yourself too.

After so long, your hearts were molded to one another, holding on for dear life. And you’d spend that life together. Truly and forever.

series taglist: @winters-fairy @charlyrmv @gvfslayallday @cloudroomblog @lol-im-done @freyafriggafrey @jasminedragoon @daddy-din @dealswiththedevilsblog @coolchick333 @rizzetteee @m3laniehearts @fuglyputa24 @daixylie @mi0o @kissykris @c0wb0ym3nace @snixx2088 @randomstory56 @mmeerraa @doublevirgogirl @daydreamerblues @onlyrealjoy @happinessinthebeing @leathargic @violenttsoho @gingerdarkroast @intoxicatedapple @callsign-athena @cherriebat @sofiparallel @textsfromeponinet

tlou taglist: @jordie-gvf @sunxflowerxx @themusingkitten @anxiety-made @mmerraa

permanent taglist: @winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller x reader angst #the last of us #tlou #hbo's tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x reader smut

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sprinkler-ashes · 8 months

Text

gold rush // aaron hotchner x reader

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

description: in which aaron hotchner hates social media – unless it’s yours. inspired by gold rush by taylor swift.

words: 2.2k

warnings: hotch is down bad, curse words, a bit of pining and jealousy

a/n: i love the idea of the bau being active on social media + hotch having no idea what any online terms mean lmao anyways i just really like this little fic. happy reading!!

i don’t like slow motion, double vision in rose blush

i don't like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

everybody wants you

but i don’t like a gold rush

Aaron Hotchner is not a fan of social media.

Maybe it’s because of his job. He knows that posting too much information online could sometimes lead to bad situations because there are always people lurking – it’s impossible to know who, exactly, is watching online. Or maybe it’s because he simply didn’t grow up with it. It didn’t really matter – he just knows he does not like using it.

Penelope had shown him quite a bit of Twitter after several BAU cases started trending while the cases were actively going on, even somehow agreeing to let her set him up an account. Aaron didn’t really want an account, but it was almost impossible to say no to Penelope Garcia who Aaron genuinely liked a lot.

Facebook was another one that he had. He didn’t even have a profile picture and only harbored a small amount of friends – entirely family. The site was strictly used to keep up with Jessica since she was an avid Facebook user. If he couldn’t get a hold of her through her phone, he would send her a message on Facebook’s messaging platform, Messenger. She typically responded that way.

The last social media account Aaron had was a new one. Or, well, new-ish. It had just been created a little over a month ago. He didn’t want the account, but Penelope wasn’t the one who asked him to get an account that time.

It was you. And saying no to you was even harder than saying no to Penelope.

A group photo was taken at Rossi’s last month during a get-together after finishing a case. Penelope went straight to Instagram to post it, tagging everyone except Aaron who wasn’t shy to say he didn’t have an account. He was the only one – even Rossi had made an account.

“You’re not on Instagram?” You’d asked Aaron only moments after that.

He shook his head. “I don’t really use social media.”

You frowned like you were in deep thought before turning to him again with a smile. “We should change that.”

All it took was a good minute, maybe even less than that, and one of your signature smiles to convince him to let you help him create an Instagram profile.

He accumulated a small amount of followers since then, which he had to approve, of course, as Aaron made sure his account was set to private – mainly family, some friends, and the team. However, that was as far as it went. He was still figuring out the app, but completely forgot about his new account due to his busy life.

Except for now.

It’s a slow Friday at work – mainly just a day spent catching up on paperwork – and Aaron never really complains on days like this. Yes, it’s usually boring, but having a day without a case means he actually gets to see his son at the end of the day, so it’s a win for him.

But a slow day creates boredom, especially when he’s actually ahead on paperwork. Aaron can’t recall the last time he was this bored at work – probably because he usually has something to do – but when his eyes ghost over the time on his expensive watch, he has to resist letting out a sigh of agitation because, somehow, there are still four more hours left in the workday.

Aaron puts the pen he’s holding down and moves the file he’s in the process of reviewing. He grabs his phone from one of the drawers in his desk and turns it on. The lock screen, which is his favorite photo of Jack, lights up before he enters his passcode.

He does errand-like things at first, including responding to a couple of texts, checking his personal email, and even spending a minute, or five, on Twitter, not that he would ever admit that to Penelope.

Eyeing the colorful app with a white outline of a camera, he hesitantly opens Instagram, still not really used to it considering it’s been over a month since the last time he was on it. He waits a second for it to load up until a photo appears on his feed from JJ, who posted a picture of Henry and Will before she left for work.

jj_jareau: My two favorite guys <3

Aaron knows that the symbol on the end of her caption is supposed to represent a heart because you often send the same symbol in the BAU group chat. He’s not sure why you never use actual emoticons – he’s never asked you – but he associates the symbol with you.

Not that he’s associating hearts with you specifically. Or overanalyzing all your texts in the group chat. Of course not, it’s just because you use it often. That’s all.

When Aaron tries to scroll, he accidentally presses on your username that was showing up in the preview of the comments, sending him straight to your own Instagram page.

He’s about to click the back arrow above your profile picture that he’s assuming will take him back to his feed, but Aaron can’t stop himself from glancing over your profile. Your page is filled with photos from moments in your life that go back years.

Looking up from his phone, he can see you from his chair as the blinds in his office are currently open. You’re chatting with Spencer who’s sitting across from you, a smile on your face as you continuously glance from him and back over to your computer screen where you’re typing, making sure Spencer knows you’re still listening to whatever bizarre fact he’s probably ranting about.

Aaron looks back down to his phone. He’s never been on your page, nor have your posts ever shown up on his feed during the rare times he’s actively gone on the app. It almost feels too personal – like he’s not supposed to see the side of you he doesn’t work with.

He carefully presses on the last post you made. It’s a post from only one day ago, but you’re not in any of the seven photos you’ve posted, which makes him frown with a tinge of disappointment.

Your caption reads, September photo dump, with a couple emoticons.

Wondering what the hell a photo dump is, Aaron looks through the set of pictures again. Everything is random. They range from a sunset to a picture of a meal you must’ve eaten at some point during the month of September, which just passed, and even one of Emily’s cat.

He scrolls down to the next post from three days ago. This time, you’ve only posted one picture and luckily for him, you’re actually in it.

You’re sitting at a dinner table, head resting gently on your hand with a sweet smile while your other hand is gently holding a glass of what – Aaron brings the phone closer to his face without knowing he can actually just zoom in – appears to be champagne.

It only takes him a few seconds after admiring how you look in the photo to wonder about who’s on the other side of it.

Aaron doesn’t know who took the photo and is getting to see you smile like that, but he does know that he wishes it was him because you’re just so damn pretty.

The man is pretty sure he would quite literally melt down to the ground if you looked at him like that.

He’s attempting to push these thoughts to the back of his head as he prepares to scroll to the next post. Aaron is well aware of the fact he shouldn’t be thinking about you in any way that isn’t strictly platonic. He is your boss and even aside from that, the two of you are not only co-workers, but friends.

Friends, he reminds himself. That’s all.

But as he scrolls to the next post, every thought of friendship leaves his body.

It’s a photo taken with the flash on from exactly a week ago, last Friday night, of you, Emily, JJ, and Penelope in what appears to be a club that Aaron can’t say recognizes. You’re standing on the end, your arm snaked around Emily’s waist with your body turned towards the camera while mid-laugh.

The black dress you’re wearing hugs every inch of your body perfectly – you’re showing more skin in the photo than Aaron has ever seen out of you. He’s seen you dressed up before – even seen you in person at clubs himself – but nothing like this before. Ever.

Much needed girls’ night out, your caption says.

Aaron’s not even sure he’s still breathing when he swipes to the second, and last, picture in the post.

This time, it’s only you. You’re still in the same dress, looking at the camera with a sultry smile. You’re not in the club this time. Aaron can’t tell where you are, but that doesn’t really matter because you’re looking straight at the camera with one of the most attractive looks he’s ever seen – it almost feels like you’re looking directly at him.

prentiss_emily: Baddest bitch in the bureau

yourusername: @ emily_prentiss Only behind you ofc

Though he knows she means it in an endearing way, Aaron doesn’t want to call you a bitch, but Emily’s comment on your post technically isn’t a lie. Unfortunately, he also can't seem to figure out what "ofc" means.

A part of him feels guilty. He knows he can’t have you, yet he’s going through your Instagram right now imagining a thousand what-if scenarios, a tinge of jealousy running through his veins at the idea of you ever looking at anyone the way you’re looking at the camera in your photos.

Aaron spends so much time trying to convince himself he doesn’t feel the way he does for you because there are so many reasons why he shouldn’t have the feelings he does. He can’t think of a scenario where you can be his nor can he think of a world in which you feel the same.

So, after he looks at this photo for another couple of seconds, he’s finally going to close out the app and forget about the way you look in that dress.

He can’t get the chance to do that because the door to his office is opening abruptly, startling him to the point where he drops his phone onto his desk.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, hands fumbling to lock his phone so your Instagram will go away.

There you are, mouth open to say something until you notice him fumbling with his phone.

A sheepish look appears on your face. “Sorry, I forgot to knock.”

“It’s fine,” he says, hoping his voice is even and doesn’t scream: Hello, I just looked through your Instagram. “What do you need?” He lays his phone down – it’s finally locked – and looks up at you, trying to appear like he was actually doing something.

“Oh, I don’t need anything. Reid and I are going to try that new place that just opened up down the street for lunch. I was wondering if you wanted me to grab you something.”

“Do you have a menu?” He asks.

“Yeah, give me a second. I’ll text it to you,” you tell him.

You’re pulling your phone out of the pocket of your pants and if Aaron had been paying attention and not pretending like he was working, he would’ve seen the way you glanced up at him, back to your phone, then back to him, a giddy smile on your face.

You do as you told him you would and send him the menu. “Take your time looking over it. Just text me what you want within the next fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks. I’ll look over it in a minute.”

Aaron really does go back to work this time, his hands moving to pick up the file he moved earlier. He hears the door open and assumes you’re on your way out of the door, but you don’t leave yet.

“Oh! Before I go,” you say, your body out the door and your hand lingering on the outside knob of his office door. He looks up at you, pen in hand. “Thanks for the like on Instagram.”

Aaron thinks his heart has stopped upon hearing those words. Before he can even say anything, you shut the door, and you’re making your way back to where Spencer is still sitting.

He swallows hard, closes the file, and sets it away once again. His fingers frantically type in his passcode, and Instagram immediately pops up, still open from when he tried to turn his phone off.

To Aaron’s horror, he sees the Instagram heart that’s used to like photos filled with red and seemingly glaring at him. It was too late to unlike it now. You’d obviously already gotten the notification.

Meanwhile, as Aaron is mentally panicking, you’re whipping out your phone again to send another text. This time to Emily who is currently in a meeting.

I will never doubt you again – Operation post-a-thirst-trap worked!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n

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talaok · 1 year

Note

I don’t know why this request popped into my head but Spencer wanting to get BAU reader flowers for Valentine’s Day but they’re working and the team don’t know about them yet so Spencer, the sweetheart he is, he’s like ok I’ll just get all the girls flowers. And the girls are like wow that’s so sweet but Morgan’s like ‘funny, you didn’t do this last year, or the year before, why now?’ And just becomes really suspicious and starts investigating lmao

I love this. you're a genius.

Flowers

Spencer had been nervous about it for the whole week.

He knew it was stupid, but you know that voice in your head that keeps reminding you that it isn't stupid and that you should worry, probably even more than you're doing now because this is a huge fucking deal even if it's really not?

well,

that voice had had the best of him.

He had thought about it for a long time,

about all the possibilities and the related outcomes,

he had thought about surprising you later, after work, but then again, that meant seeing you at the office and having to pretend like he had forgotten, hence, hurting your feelings.

so that was a no.

He even thought about not coming into work, just make up some excuse to hotch and not show up.

but that didn't feel right,

and so it had come to the last possibility,

The best way to hide something is in plain sight, right?

__ __ __

he was sweating.

it was ridiculous how much he was actually stressing over this, but still, there he was, his forehead glistening, his tie too tight around his throat, and four diffrent bouquets in his hands,

well, not exactly diffrent,

only one of them was,

the most important one,

and he had already thought of the excuse as to why it was y/n's,

he was gonna say the truth,

or better, part of it.

See the thing was that he knew her favorite flowers,

Dahlias, she loved dahlias,

pink ones to be exact,

he remembered the moment she had told him, that day at the park, the sun shining on their faces, as their bare feet brushed the fresh grass,

He remembered finding it interesting that she would choose a flower that's also the symbol of one of America's most famous unsolved murders, and he recalled her turning to him, and as if she had read his mind telling him that she liked the flower even more because of that,

"it's not fair that just because one case has been named the black dahlia then all of the sudden all of those amazingly wonderful flowers lose their beauty. That's not how it works. The dahlia is only more beautiful now because even after all that, she remains unfazed, and so does her beauty"

And he remembered having kissed her,

because if there was one person able to think that way,

it was her.

And so she obviously had bought her those, while for the rest of the women he had opted for some red roses,

witch to the untrained eye may have looked like a much more romantic option, but trust me, after all those comments about how much she hated them, Spencer had got the hint she didn't like them.

Ding

The elevator's door opened

Ok, it's fine Spencer, it's fine, you can do this.

he took a deep breath as he pushed open the glass doors, immediately noticing the team already in the conference room.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply once more before entering the room.

"oh wow" Jj immediately commented, eyeing the flowers

"pretty boy" morgan grinned "you're really showing off huh?"

He felt his cheeks warm, but smiled nonetheless, everyone else was.

He could feel your eyes on him, and as he glanced at you, just as he had expected, he took in the twitch of your lips as they turned up in that cute way they always did, and his heart skipped a beat.

"well" he cleared his throat "since it's valentine's day I wanted to do something nice for all the wonderful women of the office" he explained "and even though, as a recent study showed, chocolate is the most common gift, In fact, approximately 48% of people who celebrate valentine's day gift chocolates" he stopped a moment to noticed every amused or questioning expression staring back at him, before continuing" but, anyway, I liked the idea of flowers better, "he smiled shyly "so- yeah" he looked down at the bouquets as he turned to his left "Emily, this is for you," he said, handing the roses to her, and earning a big smile and thank you from Prentiss, "JJ, "he said walking up to her "happy valentine's day," he said as she took the flowers "thank you" she grinned at him "I hope Will isn't gonna be jealous" she joked, and spencer laughed softly before finally turning to you.

The moment your eyes met, something traveled between them, a mutual understanding, a mutual sparkle going from him, straight to you.

"And these are for you y/n," he said "happy valentine's day"

You smiled, looking down at the flowers "dahlias"

"How could I forget?" he blushed, and you couldn't help but throw your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, as you closed your eyes, lost in his scent.

"thank you Spence" you whispered, before remembering where you were and reluctantly leaning away, he was beaming when you did, and your heart warmed.

"are the other ones for my baby girl?" Derek asked, and spencer frowned, confused before realizing, "oh- yes, they're for Penelope" he said"I actually wanted to give them to her now if it isn't a problem" he turned to Hotch, and he nodded slightly before saying "make it quick" to witch spencer immediately answered "absolutely" before starting towards the door

"wait"

he turned around

"I'll come with you" you said before you could stop yourself

__ __ __

"so that was.." morgan chuckled

"what? it's nice" Emily came to his defense

"yeah Derek what are you talking about?" jj chirped in

"Rossi? Hotch?" he turned to them

"I think he's just jealous his baby girl is getting flowers from another man" Emily joked, making jj laugh

"what you don't find it even a bit weird?" he was facing Rossi now, who shrugged, " if there's one thing all my wives have taught me is that women love flowers"

JJ and Emily laughed softly at that

"hotch?"

"I think it's nice"

Derek sighed deeply "yes but doesn't anybody find it a little strange that he only did it this year?"

"Derek-" JJ shook her head

"What, we've been working together for 5 years, and now all of a sudden he gifts roses on valentine's day? You can't tell me that's strange"

There was a moment of silence

"maybe he just wanted to do something nice" Hotch intervened

"yes but why now?" Morgan asked "don't tell me you haven't asked yourself that"

Emily sighed "Even if you're right, even if it's strange. What are you tryna say?"

"I'm just saying there has to be a reason, that's all" he explained, sitting on his chair

"like what?" emily asked

"i dunno"

another moment of silence

"well he has been acting weird lately" JJ spoke up, and the whole room turned toward her

"Weird how?" Hotch asked, seemingly worried

"Nothing big he's just been busy a lot that's all" she shrugged " we haven't hung out in a while because he has always someplace to go to"

"yeah that's true" Emily agreed "even last night he said he had something to do didn't he?"

"yup"

"Maybe the kid just goes to a new chess tournament " Rossi joked

" I knew something was up" Derek mumbled

"but it still doesn't make sense. What does he blowing us off have to do with the flowers?" JJ asked

Derek's mind worked fast as he pieced all the clues together, all the glares, blushes, and smiles finally coming together.

"well," he got up again "who do you give gifts to on valentine's day?"

"your partner"

"Exactly" he nodded "but what if, and this is hypothetical, you couldn't give them to them directly because let's say nobody knows about you two. Then what do you do?"

Emly chuckled "you give them to everyone else too"

"Exactly" Derek grinned

"wait" Jj waved her hand in disbelief "are you saying-?" she couldn't even finish the sentence and just pointed blankly at your seat

Derek raised his eyebrow "I mean it would make sense wouldn't it?"

Emily smiled "it sure would"

"let's not get ahead of ourselves " Hotch intervened "this is all just speculation, it could all still be just a nice gesture"

"Hotch's right "Rossi agreed "we can't be sure of anything"

And just as he pronounced those words you and Spencer walked through the door, and as much as they were all trying to be professional, and respecting of whatever privacy you might have wanted,

it was very hard not to notice the pink on both your cheeks, or the way your lips looked somehow a lot more swollen than before, and spencer's collar definitely not as straight as it was just a few minutes before.

And what was even harder to not notice, was the big beautiful bouquet of red roses Spencer was still holding.

Derek grinned way too smugly as he witnessed everyone around the table come to the same conclusion he had just moments before,

and as Spencer finally spoke over the terrifying silence, asking "What's up?" He couldn't help but respond "nothing" he eyed the bouquet he was still holding "We were just talking about how much Penelope likes roses"

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid Criminal Minds #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

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notsosweetchan · 2 months

Note

-Cann you write about Changbin being reader’s older brother ‘s best friend and reader has a crush on him and they end up fucking-

ʚ♡ɞ Brother’s best friend (BBF) ʚ♡ɞ

Notes: I got carried away with this one it’s my longest one yet, while I was writing this I had the song best friends brother from victorious stuck in my head lmao

Warning: Smut

Paring: | Changbin x Reader |

Y/N sighed, letting the familiar sights of her hometown blur into a painting of soft colors as she gazed out the car window. The specter of finals still hung over her like a storm cloud, but for now, she was free, half-wistfully enveloped in the nostalgia that seemed to permeate the air here.

The car came to a halt in front of her childhood home, and she found herself grinning despite the fatigue clinging to her bones.

Upon entering the house, she was immediately greeted by her boisterously cheerful older brother who scooped her into a bear hug. She could see a familiar glint in his eye, one that spelled trouble — or adventure, depending on how you looked at it.

His surprise turned out to be none other than his best friend, Changbin. Seeing him there made. Y/N's stomach flutter with a familiar nervousness. She had known Changbin since they were children, and over the years, she had developed a deep and unspoken adoration for him. But to him, she was always "little Y/N," his best friend's kid sister.

The moment their eyes met, Y/N felt a rush of warmth that colored her cheeks a shade of rose. Changbin, ever the gentleman, stood up from his perch on the old leather couch in the living room, greeting her with a boyish grin that seemed to have only broadened over the years. "Y/N," he said warmly, "you've grown up so much."

"That's what happens when you age, Bin," she replied, laughing lightly while trying to mask the butterflies that his simple observation had stirred up within her. His lips twitched in amusement at her retort, the fondness bright and clear in his eyes. He held out a hand in an offer to take her bag which she gratefully accepted, his touch sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. Oh, how she missed this comforting familiarity.

Just as her heart began to flutter with the renewed prospect of time spent together, her brother clapped his hands together. “Well, I will leave you both to catch up. I've got some errands to run, but I'll be back soon,” he declared with a knowing smirk before disappearing out the front door.

The sudden silence that echoed in the living room felt heavy as Y/N turned back towards Changbin. His presence seemed to fill up the room in a way it hadn’t before when there were three of them. She swallowed nervously, feeling the flush on her cheeks deepen under his watchful gaze.

"So," Changbin began, breaking the silence, "how's college life treating you?" He stretched out on the couch, eyes inviting her to share her world with him. His question unfurled an array of stories within her mind; late-night study sessions, vibrant campus events, and friendships that felt like they could last a lifetime.

As she started telling him about her experiences, he listened attentively. His occasional nods and interjections made her feel seen and heard, and slowly, the earlier nerves started to fade away. The light from the setting sun softly washed over them, making his features appear even more endearing. His eyes gleamed with interest as she spoke and his lips curled into a warm, inviting smile that had her heart racing.

Caught in the spell of the moment, Y/N found herself inching closer to him on the couch, their knees brushing together occasionally. It was something they had done many times before as friends, but this time it felt different — those brief contacts ignited a spark within her that she'd never felt so intensely.

Soon enough, the conversation began to taper off as they lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was then that Changbin turned to look at her, his gaze softer than she'd ever seen before. In that instant, all the excitement from an afternoon spent reminiscing faded into a calm ocean of warmth and affection.

"Y/N," Changbin started, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've really changed." He paused for a moment before continuing. "I mean, you’ve not just grown up," he clarified hurriedly, pointing towards her untamed hair and bright eyes that held unspoken tales of her adventures at college. "You've also become… well, someone I find myself thinking about more often than I should."

The words hung in Her breath caught in her throat at his confession, butterflies erupting in her stomach. She could feel the heat rise to her face as she looked into his eyes. She'd always thought he saw her as his little sister, but now... now, everything felt different."

Changbin," she stammered, "I-I... I thought you saw me as your best friend's little sister."

He chuckled softly, a gentle laugh that reached the depths of her soul. "Well, you'll always be that to me, but.." His eyes held hers captive as he moved just a little bit closer, "you're also so much more, Y/N."

Hesitatingly, he reached out to brush a stray hair behind her ear and their closeness was almost palpable. Time seemed to stand still as their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills. His eyes held hers hostage, and it was Y/N who first blinked, heart pounding in her chest.

Leaning in ever so slightly, their lips met in a tentative yet breathless kiss; an admission of unspoken feelings finally given voice.

She felt his soft lips press against hers, and for a moment, Y/N thought she imagined it. A small gasp escaped her as the warmth of his breath danced across her lips, sending tingles down her spine.

She closed her eyes and leaned into the kiss, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. His hand found its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer still. Their bodies melded together like they were always meant to be this way. The scent of his aftershave mixed with something familiar and comforting - maybe it was just him. She could feel his heart racing as fast as hers was, and it made their embrace feel more intimate than anything she had experienced before.

Their kiss deepened slowly, and she could taste the sweetness of his cherry chapstick on her tongue. Her fingers entwined with his as they explored each other's bodies in a way that felt both new and familiar at once.

The sound of their quiet breathing filled the room as they pressed closer together, lost in the moment. When they finally pulled away, it felt like waking up from a dream - but one she never wanted to leave. “What about my brother ?" Y/N whispered, pulling back with a flush on her cheeks.

Changbin smiled wryly, "We'll cross that bridge when we get there," he said, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "For now, let's enjoy this moment."

Leaning in to kiss her once more , Y/N knew that he was right – they would figure it out eventually. For now, she would savor this stolen moment with the boy who had stolen her heart years ago.

Y/N blushed at his words but couldn't deny the truth in them. As their lips met again, the world around them seemed to melt away. The softness of his lips against hers sent a shiver down her spine as she closed her eyes, reveling in this newfound intimacy.

The soft noises they made echoed through the room, filling it with warmth and anticipation. His hand slid up her back and tangled itself in her hair, pulling gently on the strands as he deepened the kiss.

Their tongues danced tentatively at first, exploring each other's mouths in a slow rhythm that matched their hearts' pace. Each time they pulled away for air, they seemed to be breathing each other in, their noses brushing gently against one another's skin.

Changbin tasted like cherry chapstick mixed with something familiar and comforting - maybe it was just him. It was intoxicating.

His fingers trailed down her neck and beneath her shirt, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his heart racing against hers as they held onto each other tightly, lost in their embrace. This feeling was addictive; electricity zinged through every nerve ending as their lips met once more.

Her hand gripped onto his shirt, pulling him closer still as she felt his body heat melt into hers. The soft fabric gave way under her fingertips, revealing firm muscles beneath.

Her hands traced circles on his back before moving upwards, feeling every contour and ridge underneath his clothes until she reached his neck where she ran her nails gently across his skin lightly - eliciting a small moan from him.

"I've wanted this for so long," he breathed against her lips, and she responded with a shy smile.

Y/N moaned softly as he trailed kisses down her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She couldn't believe what was happening, yet she couldn't bring herself to stop it.

The scent of his cologne mixed with the familiar scent of home, filling the room with a warmth that surrounded them like a cloud. Every touch from him felt electric, every caress setting her skin ablaze.

She could feel his heart racing against hers in syncopated rhythm asthey explored each other's bodies with gentle movements and soft gasps.

His hand slipped under her shirt, brushing against her bare skin, and she arched into the contact without thinking. A gasp escaped from her lips as he found the small of her back, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve ending.

Her breath hitched in anticipation as he trailed his fingers along the delicate valley between her shoulder blades before moving upwards to trace patterns on her skin that made her shiver. The touch sent tingles all throughout her body; she never wanted this moment to end.

"Changbin," she whimpered softly against his mouth, their lips meeting once more in a hungry kiss that seemed to consume them both. His tongue teased hers gently before delving deeper into her mouth, seeking out every corner with eager curiosity.

It was intoxicating how familiar yet new this feeling was; every touch brought them closer together while also making them want more. Fueled by the heat between them, Y/N pulled at his shirt, needing to feel more of his skin against hers.

As it gave way to reveal his chest muscles and stomach ripples underneath, she ran her nails softly across his toned abs which caused him to groan into their kiss.

His hands found their way to the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head in one fluid motion. She shivered as his warm hands found their way down her back, caressing her skin.

They trailed down her spine, sending shivers of electricity through her body. She arched into his touch, needing more of him.

Changbin's lips left hers and began trailing kisses down her jawline, nibbling on her earlobes and collarbone as he went lower. He stopped at the hollow of her neck, where he paused to take a deep breath before looking up at her with hooded eyes."Y/N," he breathed heavily, "I... I want you so bad.

"Y/N's cheeks burned crimson as she looked into Changbin's eyes. "I... I want you too." She felt exposed yet liberated all at once under his heated gaze. In response, he slowly unclasped her bra, revealing her bare chest to his hungry gaze.

He cupped her breast gently through the thin fabric of her shirt before sliding it down her arms, revealing her perky mounds fohim to see. His eyes widened in appreciation before he bent down to take one of her pert nipples into his warm mouth.

She moaned softly as she arched her back, her fingers tangled in his hair as he teased and suck ed on her hardened nipples. His hands moved to her waist, sliding her pants down over her hips and let them pool at her ankles.

Her panties were next to go, leaving her completely naked and vulnerable in front of him. He stood up, never breaking eye contact with hers as he removed his own pants, revealing his hard length for her to see.

Y/N licked her lips involuntarily at the sight of him, so eager yet so patient. Her hand trembled as she reached out to touch him, running her hands along his shaft, feeling his heat and hardness in her palm. Changbin groaned at her touch, "God, Y/N," he breathed. "You're driving me crazy."

He wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her up and carrying Y/N to her room, the sound of their panting filled the now pitch-black room, their hearts still racing from their passionate embrace. Y/N couldn't believe where they were headed and yet she was eager to follow.

Changbin kicked the door shut behind them with a soft click that only served to heighten the intimacy between them.

He laid her down gently on her plain white comforter, his eyes roaming over her naked form like a predator about to make its kill.

She couldn't help but blush at the sight of him, his bare chest glistening with sweat from their intense make-out session. "You are so beautiful," he whispered before bending his head down to kiss along her collarbone once more.

His hot breath sent shivers down her spine as he trailed soft kisses downwards, heading towards her breasts.

His lips brushed against one of them teasingly before taking it between his teeth gently, causing a gasp to escape from her lips. He suckled on her nipple while his hand slipped between her thighs, pushing two fingers inside of her wetness without warning.

Y/N arched into his touch, moaning softly as he found her G-spot effortlessly. "Changbin," she moaned, her back arching off the bed as he hit that sweet spot again and again. Her walls clenched around his fingers, begging for more as he pumped them in and out of her.

With each thrust, she felt herself edging closer to the precipice, but he pulled away just when she thought she was about to come undone.

"Shh, baby," he soothed, looking into her hooded eyes before leaning down to claim her lips once more. "I want this to last."

He positioned himself at her entrance and looked into her eyes one last time, seeking permission. Y/N nodded, her desire clear in her eyes, and he brushed against her core teasingly before finally sliding inch by inch inside of her tight heat.

Y/N gasped as he filled her completely, unable to form coherent words as sensations she never knew existed coursed through her body. He was so big, so thick and hard, stretching her in ways she'd only ever dreamed of.

Changbin's eyes bore into hers as he started to move, withdrawing almost all the way out before thrusting back in agonizingly slowly. Each time he bottomed out inside her,

she moaned louder and louder, her nails digging into his back as he set a rhythm both slow and torturous.

"Y/N," he groaned against her neck between thrusts, "feels so good."

His words only spurred her on further as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer if that were even possible.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, their breaths mingling with each other's pants filling the room. Faster and faster they moved, their moans echoeing off the walls of her small room.

Changbin's pace increased, each thrust harder and deeper than the last as they both teetered on the edge of orgasm.

Y/N could feel it building deep within her core, coiling tighter and tighter with each movement of his hips. Her walls clenched around him, squeezing him tightly as she neared the edge.

"Binnie," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back as he hit that spot again and again.

"Come for me," he growled against her ear before biting down gently on her lobe. That was all it took; Y/N's world exploded into a million stars as she came undone in his arms, her orgasm rocking through her entire body like a tidal wave.

Changbin followed close behind her, groaning out her name as he found his own release deep inside her tight heat.

Their panting breaths were the only sounds in the room as they lay entangled in each other's arms, their bodies still joined as one.

Changbin kissed her forehead gently before pulling out of her with a quiet groan. Y/N whimpered softly at the loss of him but he was quick to soothe her, pulling her into his arms and nuzzling her hair.

"That was," she breathed, words failing her.

"Amazing," he finished for her, chuckling softly. "I've been waiting for that for so long."As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that this was where she was supposed to be. With him.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz smut #skz changbin #changbin x reader #changbin imagine #changbin imagines #changbin smut #seo changbin #stray kids changbin #changbin

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moondrop-writes · 1 year

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Hiiiii! I hope you’re doing well! If possible could I get an Apollo x wife!reader scenario where like he always promised he’d never cheat and stuff cause he only ever had eyes for her but then she finds out about Will and is really upset until she meets him and thinks he’s super cute (in like a motherly way off. Bonus points if she used to be with Ares before he started dating Aphrodite and so that’s why she was so upset cause she felt like it was Ares all over again even if they’re still good friends)

Sorry if this is too specific or confusing or something 😅

i love TOA Apollo, and while i've never been really sure how to write the POV of a god, i think this is pretty fair considering his in-universe persona written by Rick. thank you for the request and no worries about specifics! also, my apologies if this is super long lmao

You wiped your wet hands onto the rag by the kitchen sink as the dishes you had just washed dripped. Normally, you'd dry them as well, but you were running low on time, and you didn't want to miss a crucial part of the night in order to fix little details like that. Smiling to yourself, you folded the rag and hung it up by the sink again.

The oven timer beeped just in time for you to get your apron on, and you grabbed your mits in order to safely pull the tray out of the oven. You placed it on top of the stove, the scent of the warm turkey filling your nose. Usually, you'd preserve such a thing for a holiday, but today might as well be one.

Tonight, was the night Apollo visited you once more, after several months in his human form trailing after some young girl, he seemed to take a liking to. Now he was immortal again and could see you after all that time apart.

You'd seen him within the first month at some point. You couldn't do anything though, because that wasn't him. It could very well be, but it wasn't. Lester was average, but it wasn't Apollo. You didn't want to sound shallow thinking that, but there was nothing connecting the god of the Sun to some fake New York teen.

And it'd been too long since then. He said it was for your safety, but you knew it was just because he couldn't stand for you to see him like this. You could tell by the way he walked that he was just as uncomfortable with his new body as you were. He looked like a baby deer, stumbling on tiny legs as it struggled to learn how to walk.

That was not your Apollo, your Apollo was graceful with a flashing smile that sent gusts of warmth up your arms. But his looks weren't all that appealed to you so many years ago. He might've been vain, but he was lovely too. He cared for mortals as the great Titan Prometheus had, and everywhere he walked seemed to cheer someone up.

He was rather dependent on his looks, but around you all that seemed to shy away. It was just you, mortal flesh and human blood, and him, golden blonde hair and a blinding smile.

In your head, you tended to akin Apollo to a star. Despite being one of the oldest Olympians, he seemed so much younger. His sister, Artemis seemed so much more serious and mature, and Dionysus had also seemed to understand his duty more seriously. Being the god of the Sun was more habit than it was a job to Apollo.

While the gods floated and stayed still in their palaces, Apollo roamed around. Each day when he rose and ran the sun, he saw places he might've otherwise missed. Everything wondered him, whether it be a small cave in Taiwan or a forgotten shore in Australia.

Stars were small, surrounded by dozens of other stars and radiating their heat and charm. You thought that summarized Apollo pretty well.

The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts.

Startling, you jumped up, rushing to untie your apron and hang it up in the hallway. In nothing but a pair of over washed jeans and a loose beige t-shirt, you pulled the door open, and finally felt like you could breathe again for the first time in months.

There Apollo stood, bronze skin and gleaming hair, a suspiciously bright red Camaro sitting in your driveway.

"Y/N," he breathed, voice as soft as a deer's mewl.

"Apollo," you answered, and leaped forward. He caught you easily, as he had always done, and pulled you close. Your fingers clasped behind his neck, grasping onto blonde curls.

His own hands found your hips, fingers slipping into the belt loops of your jeans to tug you forward. His nose was buried in your hair, and he pressed repeated kisses to the crown of your head.

He was dressed in his godly attire, bands of gold, an airy white tunic, and gold sandals. He looked like a supermodel next to you, but he held you as if you were true treasure.

You pulled back for a moment, only to pull his head down so his lips could meet yours, pressed together in a locking kiss.

It could've gone on forever, but mortals needed air, and you pulled away to breathe. With your chest heaving, he smiled at you as if you'd hung the stars. One hand lifted to cup your cheek and cradled your face.

"I love you," he said, voice soft and almost weak sounding.

"I love you too," you said, pressing your cheek to his chest. You felt something break in you when you heard the slow beat of his immortal heart. It was like a dam that finally crashed.

Your eyes filled with months' worth of tears and you hiccupped wetly against his skin. "I-I missed you so-so much..." you sniffed, trying to calm down your rapid breathing, "don't ever do that again!"

He gave a small rueful laugh and wiped at your tears. "I'll try," he said, and that was enough.

The two of you went inside, and he familiarized himself with everything again. You ate dinner, with soft talk of what'd you'd been up to the past few months. He was unusually quiet and kept glancing out the window to the sky as if it were going to disappear.

He followed you back to your bedroom and changed into some clothes that had been sitting in your dresser for months, awaiting him. You were in the bathroom attached to your room, combing your hair as he sits on the bed watching you.

You placed down the comb with a small clattering sound and turned to him. Your palms were flat on the countertop.

"What's up with you? You're...quiet," you ask, biting your lip. He blinks and runs a hand through his hair before standing and striding over to you.

He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in your neck. "Sorry, I... I've got a lot on my mind..." It was weird seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. Even before, when he would melt in your hands like putty and show his true self as a soft sweet husband, he was never uncertain. Not around you, at least.

You take his hands in yours and press a kiss to the inside of his palm. "Then confide in me. I'm here, and I don't plan on leaving."

He looks away and you recognize the expression easily.

Shame.

"Apollo," you say, a bit uneasily.

"Yes?"

"Tell me," You urge. He hides his face in the flesh of your neck again and presses a kiss to your nape.

"I made a promise, a while ago, and I broke it," he admitted, and you scoured your mind for a time where he'd done such a thing.

You held his hand, the new ring gleaming on your finger. Under Apollo's sunlight, it shone like a star in the night sky, but not even it could compare to the light of his smile.

He kissed your forehead, and said, "No demigod kids, I promise. Not even yours."

You laughed and swatted at his arms. "Be serious," you huffed, "and thank you."

"Mhm," he hummed, smiling against your temple.

Instinctively, you pushed him back, second-guessing your strength and gasping when he banged into the doorframe. He winced and held a hand to his shoulder blade.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you shook your head. "How old? No--how many? How--how could I have been so stupid?"

"Y/N..." he tried, voice breaking halfway through your name. It didn't matter, you were louder.

"No, answer the question!"

He closed his eyes, face twisted with distain as he cowered. The god, Apollo, cowering to the wrath of mere mortal.

He breathed in to steady himself.

"Five."

Your face contorted into one of anguish, then horror, then anger.

You cared not for the pained expression on his face when you pulled off your wedding band and flung it at him. He caught it and held it to his chest. "For fifteen years I thought you were loyal! But no. Did those years mean nothing to you? Could you have not waited another century for me to pass? God!"

You ran a shaking hand through your hair, and felt disgust rise within you.

"Please," he begged, but you were having none of it.

"Out!" you shrieked, "get out!"

He obliged, leaving you to fall to the floor, sobs falling from your lips.

It went like that for a while. A few weeks, you think. He tried, multiple times, but you didn't want to listen. How could you have thought he loved you? All those years of lies.

You didn't want to think about him. So, you didn't. You blocked all thoughts of Apollo out. That was until you were sorting through your mail and found one from a sender you weren't familiar with.

From, Will Solace, sent by Hermes Shipping & CO. to Y/N L/N

Curiosity taking over, you opened the letter, and began to read.

Dear, Y/N!

Hello, I'm sure my father has given you quite the issue, and I must say your anger is justified. I have not come to defend Apollo's actions but assist yours. I'm Will Solace, a half-blood son of your husband, my dad. He's been whining a lot at camp, but It's easy to tell how much he misses you. The whole time he was mortal he wouldn't stop talking about you. He claims that he's tried to talk to you, but you keep shutting him out, so I decided to take things into my own hands. You have all the right to ignore this, but I have a feeling you won't. As you're well aware, my father has had multiple demigod children since his marriage with you, which is wrong no doubt, all of my siblings agree. But I don't think he's talked to my mother once since my birth, and Austin said he hadn't seen him before camp since he was four, so, I think it's safe to assume he hadn't cared much for our mothers. But he did care for you. I know my dad, and I know how he used to be all those years ago, which kind of concerns me for you, but I'll stay quiet about that. If he stayed with you this long, then he plans to stick it out. I truly believe he cares for you, and if so, I'd like to meet you. If possible, please come to XXX cafe at 1:30 next Friday.

With care, Will Solace.

You didn't realize you were crying till teardrops were dripping off your cheeks.

With a racing heart, you walked over to the calendar. The letter had been later than probably intended, which meant next Friday, was actually tomorrow.

So, it came to the question of whether or not you would go.

You missed Apollo so much. He was right there, and you could hold him and have him as much as you wanted, but you pushed him away. You let your anger blind you, however justified it may be, and ran from the man that loved you most.

Then it was decided. You'd go. You'd meet Will, and you'd force Apollo to apologize.

Now that you were there, waiting outside the cafe anxiously, the plan didn't seem so fool proof. You flattened down the fabric of your summer dress and ran your hands along the strap of your purse, eyes searching for anybody that may resemble Apollo.

Will isn't hard to find, and like his father, the world seems to center itself around him when he's near.

His hair is blonde and curly, just like Apollo's, and falls over his ears and hangs just above his eyes. Piercing blue find yours, and sun-kissed skin shifts to show a blinding smile. You'd expected them to look similar, but not near identical.

He runs over, wearing a pair of shorts and a nice t-shirt, hand raised in a wave. He stops a few feet from you and holds out a hand.

"Will Solace, it's so nice to meet you. Apollo talks a lot about you," he says, eyes bright and cheery. You were sure you would've thought he was annoying if he was anybody else but knowing that this was Apollo's kid (your stepson? No, that was a weird thought) made it sort of endearing.

You found yourself smiling back as you took his hand.

"You mentioned," you say, clasping hands, "I'm Y/N."

"Let's go inside, shall we?"

Turns out, Will is very likeable. Every word is filled with genuine joy, and he listens intently. You can see the resemblance in looks, but he must get this side of himself from his mother. His nose twitches when confused, and his ears go pink when he's embarrassed.

You think it's cute, the way he opens himself up so easily to you. He finds hidden motherly qualities in yourself, that you weren't even sure you had.

That's how you find yourself inviting him to your house, where you fixed him some lemonade and grabbed some cookies from the pantry for the two of you to snack on as you sat on the porch.

Will finished his previous sentence, placing down a half-empty glass of lemonade. His brows are furrowed, and his usual smile is set in a deep frown. You wanted to rid him of it, and ease away any worries, as a mother should.

"Y'know, growing up without Apollo was hard, but I managed. It was my mother that was difficult. She was distant, hardly there. To be fair, she's famous, but it was still hard. She never made cookies--or made me lemonade. I... you're everything I wished for her to be."

When you stayed quiet, staring down at your lap, he stuttered to correct himself. "I'm sorry if that's weird---I, well, --" you tugged him close, cautious of the food.

He was pressed up against your side, and as soon as his skin met yours he melted, and let you hug him close and warm.

"It's not weird."

"Are you sure?" he said, voice quiet, unsure. It was the same tone Apollo had used.

"Certain."

He pressed a bit closer. "I feel like a baby," he laughed, "fifteen-years-old and I'm being held like a toddler."

"It's always good to be held sometimes," you say, rubbing your hand up his arm. He sniffed, and you didn't have to look down to know that he was holding back tears. How had the tone shifted so quickly?

"I'm sorry," he says, voice thick with emotion. He moves to get up, ears tinged pink, "I shouldn't be doing this. You're not even my mother--"

"Stop it. Calm down and relax."

He does, only after you have to forcibly tug him back down. He settles down next to you, and takes deep breaths to push away the tears in his eyes.

You don't know how long the two of you sit there, but your legs are beginning to cramp from being in the same position and Will is letting out soft snores against your collarbone. The sun is sinking into the horizon, and you try not to jump when he speaks.

"You're good with him," Apollo says, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

You frown, "you say that like he's a dog."

He looks away and shrugs, "I'm not good with kids, you know that."

"Neither am I," you huff, and your arms tighten around Will.

"I think Will has a different opinion."

"We all do," you say, and look down as Apollo gets closer. He settles beside you and whispers his next words.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what I can do to please you anymore."

You close your eyes and sigh. "Just--stay, okay?"

He nods, "okay."

And he does. Apollo sits there until the sun is gone, his chin on your head, and arms holding both you and Will firmly. You're asleep before you know it, and he's hoisting you both up to bring you inside.

He places Will on the couch with a light blanket, before bringing you to your bedroom. He lays you down, and presses a feather-light kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he whispers, hand holding yours.

Unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his, and he beams.

#apollo #greek mythology #apollo x reader #Apollo x reader pjo #x reader #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #moondrop writes #pjo hoo toa #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #fluff #will solace #motherhood

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

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Would you write a Steve Harrington request where he’s dating Dustin’s sister since after the snow ball dance who’s away at college but she surprises him (and Dustin) by coming home for a long weekend cause she misses them? I also feel like Dustin would accidentally crash their reunion but that’s up to you

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓𝟎/𝟓𝟎 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞

☆ word count: 2.3K+ ☆

tags: Steve x Henderson!fem!reader, step!Henderson reader though, Steve being a horny and protective bf, Robin being a good best friend, Dustin vs Steve for your attention lmao, slight smut, pure fluff, oneshot

-> a/n: I made it step!Henderson to make it as POC!friendly as possible (but if y'all want to read it as adopted!Henderson too, you can, I just know that isn't everyone's cup of tea)

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

"You need to stop scowling." Robin chastises her best friend, slapping him across the shoulder with a spare VHS tape. Steve scowls at the harsh impact, clutching the bruised area with his left hand before shooting the brunette a glare. Not that it matters - his expression, the entire day, has been shifting between complete disinterest and boredom to pure annoyance and hatred (with a scary glare to match).

"I am not scowling." he attempts to argue, his tone not even convincing to himself. Robin laughs out loud at that, flailing her arms around and gesturing to the whole store (which is, despite being a Friday night, remarkably empty).

"Please, Steve, look around! You've been scaring off customers the whole day! I literally had to run out of the store ten minutes ago to console a young child so his batshit crazy mom didn't threaten to press charges."

Steve's not even fully listening to her, hands preoccupied with flipping through the edges of a film magazine, occasionally pausing to dog ear the pages. His gaze flickers to the telephone every so often, silently willing the damn cream colored device to ring and for him to pick up to hear your voice on the other side.

"This is about Henderson, isn't it?" she suddenly questions, voice dropping to a sympathetic tone as she shifts next to him. Knees touching as she jumps up on the counter, she grabs Steve's attention by closing the magazine shut for him. Steve looks up lazily up to her peering gaze, face neutral and bored.

"I saw Dustin a few hours ago, I drove him and his friends to the arcade." is his automatic response, to which Robin only rolls her eyes.

"Not that Henderson. I mean the other Henderson."

"Oh."

Denial is on the tip of his tongue, but the lightest flush of rose pink dusting his cheeks as well as the lack of smart quips from his mouth gives him away. His mind instantly conjures up his last memory of you - mid-laughter, Hawkins sun glittering in your hairline as you tug him towards the edge of the lake. It makes a fond smile to slowly spread across his lips, the final nail in the coffin.

"So it is her." Robin confirms, knowing smirk on her face. "I miss her too, jackass. But you gotta stop taking it out on innocent customers."

Letting out a slow sigh, Steve nods in agreement, head hanging low.

"I know, I know. I just... this whole distance thing is really killing me." he pauses, frowning as he looks back up. "I miss her so goddamn much, you know? And I'm so proud of her for being in university and chasing her dreams and it's not even like she's that far away - at least she's still in the country - but any space more than across the street feels like she's in another universe from me."

Robin hums in sympathy, fingers curling around a spare diet coke can before taking a light sip.

"I get that. But thank god (Y/n)'s in university, god knows at least one person in the marriage has to have brains."

Steve smirks at that, low chuckle escaping his chapped lips which he quickly wets with his tongue.

"You really think we'd get married?" he questions, hopeful.

The fond smile on his face is mirrored on Robin's, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

"Definitely. You two are going to the be most cliche, loving and disgustingly cute married couple in the whole of Indiana."

The compliment and the accompanying fantasy that appears in his mind - white picket fence, six kids, maybe even a dog to chase the kids around on a hot summer day by the front lawns- makes warmth blossom across his chest, a pleasant burn registering in his stomach.

"Thanks." is all Steve can offer up in response, the tension from his shoulders starting to slowly dissipate. Robin nods quietly, tapping a hand on his shoulder in a soothing manner.

"I think you've been working too hard to distract yourself, anyways. Why don't you clock out early?"

"Y-you sure?"

The brunette rolls her eyes at that, as if it is obvious.

"This place is basically deserted. There's only an hour and a half left before we close. Go home, Steve. Get some sleep. Have some comfort food. Whatever you need to do."

"You're the best." he rushes out saying, throwing down his uniform vest onto a spare chair before slinging his bag over his shoulder and running out of Family Video.

Steve's never been more happy to see the outline of his house in the horizon, knowing that there's leftover mac and cheese in the fridge and an unwatched tape holding the re-run of Golden Girls waiting for him in the living room. Bonus: his parents are out of town, meaning he can stay up late, be as loud as he wants, and fall asleep on the couch with no consequences.

But there's a single yellow light on in his kitchen, the sight of which immediately alerts him. His parents wouldn't be back from Iowa for another couple of days and Robin - the only other person in Hawkins with keys to his house - is back in Family Video, so...

His mind goes to the worst case scenario on instinct. Left hand curling around a spare baseball bat he keeps in the trunk of his car (though this one lacks the menacing metal spikes), he decides to cautiously approach his front porch, pushing open the door slowly.

No signs of forced entry. No broken glass, the door handle hasn't been tampered with, and from the entryway nothing looks out of place. The entire house is dark save for the yellow glow emitting from the kitchen, his footsteps muted as he creeps up toward the source of light. Hands clenched by his side, a tight breath stuck in his chest, he's ready to strike whoever the intruder is until-

He sees your unmistakable figure humming a Whitney Houston song in one of Steve's oversized sweaters and fuzzy lemon socks, stirring a caramel brown batter of something that smells awfully sweet with a wooden spatula. His mind takes a few seconds to catch up with him - is he hallucinating, he wonders - and his weapon slips out of his hand involuntarily, the metal clang on the wooden floor startling both you and him.

"Jesus christ, Stevie. Did you think I was a burglar?" you tease, leaning against the counter, batter-dripping spoon pointing at the discarded bat on the floor. He just blinks at you in response, deer in headlights, body tense in complete shock. The sight is endlessly amusing to you, making you chuckle and shake your head sideways.

"And here I thought you'd be happy to see me." you pout mockingly, placing your hands on your hips, brownie batter long forgotten in the counter behind you. That seems to awaken something in your boyfriend, who rushes to you with immense force and speed, trapping you against the counter with his toned body, lips on yours in an instant.

Smiling into the kiss, you welcome how his pink lips mould themselves against yours, slight bitter aftertaste of beer and the odd sweetness of your peach chapstick mixing on the tip of your tongue. Your skin feels like it's on fire with the fervor and passion with which he's choosing to kiss you, desperate hands already tugging at the lapels of your sweater, fingers traveling up and down the bare skin of your torso.

"E-easy tiger." you have to remind him breathlessly, pointing to the turned on oven.

"Later." is all he can get out before smashing his mouth back onto yours, spinning you around before backing you up into his sofa until you fall onto the comfortable cushions with a squeal. He only smirks at that, muscular body towering over yours as his lips begin to trail down your neck, marking the territory as his.

"Fuck, I missed you so much." he whispers into the nape of your neck, dark bruise already blossoming in the spot. You'd protest but he's feral and there's that dark and hungry look in his irises that make your legs ache in anticipation.

"I-I missed you too-" you begin to breathe out, voice coming out whiny.

"STEVE!"

The sound of your little brother's voice startles both of you, both in terms of the sudden volume and the hilarity in his tone, making you sit up so fast that you practically shove your poor boyfriend onto the floor at the action. Your alert eyes meet his panicked ones and Steve messily attempts to pull himself together - smoothing over his hair which had your fingers tugging at the roots of seconds ago, re-buttoning his jeans - before pulling the door open.

Dustin finally stops knocking (no, banging) against the door when it swings open with a clearly agitated and flustered Steve behind it, the angry expression on the older boy's face causing the smile on Dustin's to falter slightly.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" the curly haired boy prods. "I come bearing great news."

Steve rolls his eyes at that, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. When he does so, he leaves enough of a gap for Dustin to look straight into the living room, where you're sitting upright on the sofa and waving at Dustin with a small smile.

"HOLY SHIT-"

Dustin pummels straight through Steve, not even bothering to take his shoes off before running towards you and enveloping you in a tight hug. You stumble backwards at the fierce embrace before hugging him back, hands affectionately rubbing his hair.

"Hiya, Dusty."

"I thought you weren't coming back for another month and a half." he mumbles into your chest, still holding on to you as if you'll disappear the moment he lets go of you. Steve scowls, mumbling complaints under his breath as he closes his front door shut and trods back up to you and Dustin on the couch.

"You're hogging her, little Henderson." your boyfriend complains, left leg sticking out to lightly kick at Dustin's. Dustin only shoots him a sharp glare at that, before going to back to hugging you, the childish exchange eliciting a soft laugh from your throat.

"Me hogging her? Yeah right. The month before (Y/n) left for university, you wouldn't let her leave your sights for more than two minutes tops."

This argument tugs at your heartstrings, fond smile appearing on your lips as you watch your favorite two boys bicker amongst themselves. It's reminiscent of countless arguments you've been a witness to - whilst sitting in the front seat of Steve's BMW, on a date at the cinemas or leaning against an arcade machine mid game - where your boyfriend and your younger brother battle for your attention and time.

"There's enough of me to go around, boys." you have to remind them, patting Dustin's head so he releases you from his hold. The boy's eyes light up in excitement at that.

"If you're here, does that mean you're making your famous "I'm back home" brownies-" his eyes sparkle with so much joy and eagerness that it makes even Steve's annoyed facade to slip up, whilst you chuckle.

"Duh. I was just stirring the batter but you can help pour in the caramel and decorate it at the end, okay?"

"Okay!"

The young boy almost slips on the floor with the speed with which he runs to the kitchen, peering into the half-mixed bowl of batter before beginning to scramble through the cupboards looking for the baking tray. Steve takes your brother's momentary absence as an in to go back to hugging you, strong arms encasing you against his body.

"I can't believe we just got cockblocked by your brother." he groans into the valley of your neck, causing you to lightly smack his upper arms.

"Be nice, Steve. He has every right to be as excited to see me as you. Besides..." you pause, twisting around to stare at him knowingly. "Are you that surprised? I can't even begin to count the amount of times we were about to have fun and little genius boy interrupted us."

Steve's chest reverberates with a chuckle, the sound melodic and deep. His hair tickles against your skin as he nods slowly, hands circling around your waist.

"Alright, fine. But I was really looking forward to having you just to myself."

"Oi Harrington, 60/40 rule, remember!" Dustin yells from the kitchen, pointing a fork threateningly at the man hugging you. Steve rolls his eyes at that, scowling.

"It's the 50/50 rule and you know that, little Henderson." he retorts, reminding your sibling of the infamous rule you've created (in order to prevent the two boys from ripping in to each other constantly) that dictates that your time will be divided evenly, 50/50, between them. Dustin only sticks out his tongue in response, mocking the older boy.

"It should be the 60/40 rule, I was here first before you, lover boy."

"Why you little shit-"

Steve steps out of your grasp before rushing towards Dustin, whose eyes widen in alarm before he throws down the kitchen utensils and begins to run around the living room. The two of them chase each other in circles before you step in, arms outstretched to forcibly put in distance between them.

"Alright, relax. Steve can set up a movie on the couch whilst Dustin helps me finish the batter. Then while that bakes, we can all watch a movie on the sofa before we decorate all the brownies when they're done. Deal?" you raise your eyebrows, voice final and glare sharp. It makes both of them nod immediately, eyes drawn downwards in compliance.

"Yes." they both respond at the same time. You smile.

"Great."

The boys wait patiently for you to disappear into the kitchen before turning to each other, a mischievous smirk on Dustin's face and a narrowing glare on Steve's.

"60/40." Dustin whispers, goading Steve.

"I will end you, little Henderson."

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