#this show is not going to stick in my memory | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr has been banned in Indonesia for providing people with access to pornographic content.

#this show is not going to stick in my memory

engie-ivy · 2 days

Text

(Inspired by @wolfstarmicrofic 's Alternative Universes theme! A sort of combined Performer AU and College AU🙂)

1058 words

Sirius Black's emotional break-up songs are topping the charts all over the world. But hearing those songs everywhere he goes, Remus is about to reach his breaking point.

With His Song

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not the concrete, nor the stone,

Not the room you sit in,

But the smile that lights it up.

Not the bed you sleep in,

But the heartbeat besides your own.

Home is where the heart is,

But it's not necessarily a place,

Sometimes, it's tracing the scars on someone's hand,

Sometimes, it's counting the freckles on someone's face.

It's been so long,

Coming home to you,

And did you know,

I could easily move on?

But the truth is,

I just don't want to.

If home is where the heart is,

Then baby, could it be,

That your home is still with me?

Mary lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of her. “My god, I'm going to listen to that song on repeat for the rest of the week,” and after a moment she adds “potentially the rest of my life.”

“Then you're gonna have to get some headphones,” Remus says. “Because I'm already getting sick of hearing it.”

Mary gasps and clutches her chest. “Blasphemy!”

Remus gives her an unimpressed look. “I don't think you're using that word right.”

“‘Irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable’,” Mary states unfazed. “So yes, the perfect description of you insulting Sirius Black's music.”

Emmeline nods emphatically.

Remus sighs. “I'm not saying it's a bad song,” he says. “Just that I'm getting tired of hearing it everywhere, all the time.”

Mary opens her mouth to retort, but Emmeline interjects.

“I do sort of relate. It has gotten a painful tinge to hear the song, now that I know I won't be seeing Sirius Black perform it live…”

“You didn't get tickets for his show?” Marlene asks.

“No,” Emmeline sighs miserably. “I'm on the waiting list. Number 329.”

“Not as bad as Hestia. She's number 1550 or something.”

Emmeline shrugs. “In the end, it makes no difference. 329 or 1550, neither one of us is going to the concert. I mean, 329 people will have to die, and I don't reckon I'd be that lucky…”

“Emmeline!” Lily scolds.

“Well, that's the only excuse for not going to a Sirius Black concert, literally being dead,” Mary says. “I'd actually skip my mum’s funeral if I could see him live.”

“Mary!”

“No, no, Lils,” Emmeline says. “You don't know Mary's mum. If Mary were to miss out on seeing Sirius Black for her funeral, she'd actually come back from the death to haunt her.”

Mary nods. “She's a huge fan. Not going to a Sirius Black concert would be disrespecting her memory.” She glances over at Remus. “She might have some things to say as well if she hears that my actual roommate has openly disrespected Sirius Black’s music.”

Remus sticks out his tongue. “Sue me.”

“As soon as they create a law that makes depreciating Sirius Black illegal, which they should, I will!”

“Anyhow,” Emmeline says. “I haven't heard Sirius Black's voice for almost five minutes and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms,” and she reaches out to put the record back on.

Remus gets up to his feet. “That's my cue to leave.”

“You don't have to, Remus,” Lily says quickly. “If you really don't want us to, we won't put on his music. We value your company more than listening to Sirius Black.”

“Says who? Ow!” Emmeline rubs her shin where Lily kicked her.

Remus smiles at Lily. “Thanks, Lils, but it's okay. I have a paper I need to work on anyway.”

The moment Remus closes the door to his bedroom, he lets out a sigh that seems to be coming from somewhere deep inside of him.

Then, almost without thinking, he takes out his phone and punches in the number by heart.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised and, dare Remus think, hopeful?

“You have to stop doing this,” Remus hears himself say. “No,” he then corrects himself. “You don't have to do anything. I'm asking you. Please stop doing this.”

“Remus, what are you talking about?” He seems to be walking away from something– A promo event? A fancy dinner? An exclusive party?– as Remus can hear the voices in the background grow softer. Remus feels a brief hint of satisfaction; no matter how big the event he's at, how important the people he's with, when Remus calls, he gets up and walks away to talk to him, but Remus quickly corrects himself, because it's not like that anymore.

“It's killing me,” Remus admits, pressing a hand against his forehead. “I understand, but… God, it's killing me.”

“Rem,” Sirius, because of course it's Sirius, says gently. “You're still not making much sense. What are you trying to say? Why are you suddenly calling me? Why… Why now?”

“Your latest releases,” Remus says, as he starts pacing the room, though he can barely take two steps before he reaches the opposite wall. It's rather telling of the difference between them, he can't help but think. Sirius undoubtedly in some grand building surrounded by dozens of people who would fall over themselves to cater to his every whim, and Remus hiding out in his eight square meter bedroom cluttered with textbooks and scribbled notes. “I get why you do it. I'm probably terribly biased,” he lets out a brief laugh. “But I think the songs you wrote when we were together, and even after we just broke up, are your best songs, so I get that you would want to release them, to share them with the world and show everyone once again just how bloody talented you are. And you have every right. They're your works, your creations. But gods, Sirius, I can't pretend anymore.”

“Pretend,” Sirius repeats, his voice almost a whisper, and Remus lets it all out.

“I can't pretend anymore that hearing those songs everywhere I go all the damn time doesn't make me want to die! That it doesn't just break me, to hear your voice sing those words, knowing what they once meant, and knowing that they don't mean that anymore! That you don't mean that anymore.”

“Remus,” Sirius interrupts sharply, and Remus immediately stops talking as Sirius speaks. “Do you really think I could sing those words like that, if I didn't still feel that way?”

And Remus’ breath catches in his throat.

#famous sirius black #singer sirius black #post breakup #academic remus lupin #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

89 notes · View notes

stormikitty · 21 hours

Text

Vaggie's Past

I've seen tons of fics and tumblr posts with 2 different ideas about Vaggie's past. 1 being that she had a human life before she became an exorcist angel, and the other being that she grew up in heaven and was raised by Adam and Lute and the other exorcists. Idk which 1 I like better, but I have headcanons for both. And I've sort of imagined conversations for how the other characters would find out?

1:Vaggie had a human life:

Charlie: Hey Vaggie? Are you heavenborn, or a human soul?

Vaggie: it's complicated? When a human soul becomes an exorcist, the first part of their training involves magic induced amnesia. They're forced to forget everything about their lives including their own name, and they're given a new 1. I know I was a human at some point, but I don't remember anything. Some things stick, like languages, and some strong feelings about certain things even if there's a lack of context for it, but I don't remember who I was or any of the people I might've known. Every earthborn exorcist has maybe 1 vivid memory from their life, but it never actually tells them anything about who they used to be or who they know. I think that's to make it easier to erase any individuality more quickly and make us forget if any of our morals didn't originally align with what exorcists do. Turns us into perfect soldiers quicker. If I remembered my real name, I probably wouldn't be going by the 1 that Adam gave me. He literally named me after a vagina.

Chalie: *hugging Vaggie*

Anyone else who heard this: ...

2: Heavenborn Vaggie:

Vaggie: I was never a child.

Angel Dust: What did you just come into existence fully grown or something?

Vaggie: No, I still had to grow and develop like anyone else would.

Husk: Then you were a child.

Vaggie: I was raised to be the perfect soldier since the moment I was born. A soldier isn't allowed to be a child.

Everyone: WHAT?!

Charlie: Why didn't your parents protect your from that?

Vaggie: A lot of exorcist angels are born from flowers instead of other angels. I was 1 of them. I was raised by exorcists and grew up with exorcists.

Alastor or Angel Dust: You were born from a flower? Like Thumbilina?

Husk: They took away your childhood?!

Vaggie: Yeah. I had to be a gown up almost as soon as I could start walking and talking.

Nifty: What was it like being raised by exorcists? Other than the fact that you weren't allowed to be a kid?

Vaggie: I was surrounded by high standards and expectations I had to meet and not allowed to have much if any individuality. Exorcists aren't even given names until after their 1st extermination. They have numbers until then. Also, you know how exorcists have those black stipes on their wings? Those don't appear until their 1st extermination either. Also I was taught to value loyalty and strength more than anything else. Loyalty goes above strength, but not by much. And the second I showed even the slightest hesitation to follow an order, I was cast out of heaven in probably 1 of the most brutal and painful ways possible by 1 of the people I trusted the most. So there's that.

Everyone: *ready to throw hands with some exorcists again*

Charlie: *crying*

Nifty: ... Wanna build a pillow fort and watch cartoons?

#the flower thing and the thumbilina comparison were from a fanfic i read and it kinda stuck #and these are all building off of other things i've read that other people said to some extent #i also really like the idea that Husk was a war veteran in life #vaggie #vaggatha #hazbin hotel #chaggie #nifty hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel exorcists #headcannons #also i think vaggie would really like she-ra and the princesses of power #for various reasons

61 notes · View notes

elisaintime · 2 days

Note

Woah, I must have missed something, why are people jumping down your throat?

From what I can gather at this point, it seems like they feel like anyone who likes Anne Rice herself and the books better than the show=automatically racist. Even if they ALSO enjoy the show and support the race change of the characters and all the racial conversation the show incorporated into its adaptation.

Personally, I think it does a disservice to the fandom to assume that the only reason one could like the books over the show is because of racist reasons. Anne's books speak to so many people in so many ways, especially those who have ever felt like outcasts or apart from mainstream society, and many fans have extremely personal connections to the books for a huge variety of reasons.

Like I said in my videos, I was excited and intrigued to see this AU version of the story (I love AUs!) but my complaints with the writing of the episodes mostly came back to when the show was trying to stick TOO MUCH to the books.... Because the show was really making its own thing with its own versions of the characters and all these new ideas, but then suddenly it would shove in a scene/dialogue straight out of the books which would contradict or make no sense with everything else the show had already worked to set up with the new direction it was taking itself.

Critiquing sloppy/weak writing does not mean I or any other fan who feels the same is doing it for racist reasons. Much of my criticism was about how the scripts changed Lestat's character to make him so much worse than he was in the books (which would be fine, it's their story, whatever--except the show runners told us over and over again that the whole reason Louis was doing a second interview was so that this time we could see the real version of Lestat and how Louis felt about him instead of the mean, insulting version he gave in the first interview). There was a lot promised by the showrunners about what their adaptation would be like that was not delivered ("closer to the books than the 1994 movie," "true to the spirit of Anne Rice" etc). The entire reason I made my videos was to evaluate how well the show measured up to those promises.

Worse than making Lestat so irredeemable, the way the first season ended in a way that made so many fans believe that Louis might have been lying about everything didn't sit well with me at all--it's a harmful stereotype to make the black man a liar, especially when it comes to abuse. I know the "the DV didn't actually happen and black Louis was lying or mind controlled by his evil non-white boyfriend" became a running fan theory, but I personally don't believe it one bit. But I can see why so many fans do--again, sloppy/weak writing on the show's part.

Like I said in my video, the only thing Louis actually lied about in ep7 (and he was lying to himself, not deliberately lying to Daniel) was the depth of his love for Lestat at the end. And that's entirely canon for Louis to deceive himself about--admitting how much he truly loves Lestat always came hard for him. I personally don't think it's going to turn out that anything Louis told us in season 1 was a lie. I think the show would have revealed that at the end of the season, not waited another season (or two or three) to reveal that. And the theme of season 2's promotional material has all been about memory, not honesty. I don't think Louis could mistakenly remember getting dropped from a mile in the sky and the months/years of recovery afterward, so I personally think all those memories were real.

The first three episodes of season 1 made Louis's struggle with race its primary focus, and the series description began with how Louis was chafing at society as a black man. But then from episode 4 on, the focus of the show shifted entirely. Obviously racism still existed in Louis's world, but the show pushed it all entirely to the background with little things, like segregation on the bus, and we saw the characters quietly taking in stride, not making any plot out of it. Suddenly all of Louis's character-driving moments weren't about that anymore and we were in a whole new story, when his battle against racism had been the entire theme of the first three episodes. This was something I noticed and pointed out in my videos--I didn't say it was a bad thing (after all, seeing people be racist to Louis on screen, while "realistic," isn't exactly fun for anyone, and we'd already seen plenty), but I did think the sudden dramatic shift in story focus weakened the show's themes and throughline.

Again this comes down to writing, and the premise/script was written by white people. I think they could have done much better with much more non-white involvement on the writing level. I think the show could have been stronger with some more care taken to create consistency and smoother transitions between episodes (like when they take Claudia out to feed in episode 4, suddenly all the race riots are gone, when everything was on fire 2 hours ago). It's common for shows to have each episode written by a different person, even though they all collaborate in a writer's room, but to me it felt like the show lacked efficient script supervision to make sure all the scripts flowed into each other without any contradictions or inconsistency.

When I talked about these things in my videos, when I said I would have liked the show to do better with the way it missed the mark sometimes in handling racial aspects (even though other parts I commended as being great), and the way I critiqued the inconsistencies and contradictions, some people took that to mean I hated the show entirely. The point of my videos was to see how well the show measured up to Rolin Jones's promises that it was so faithful and respectful to the spirit of the books and that all he wanted to do was honor Anne's work. I know the books back and forth, enjoy having a ND hyperfixation that gives me near-encyclopedic knowledge of the texts and Anne as an author. So people ask me questions about them all the time, especially in comparison to the adaptations. Who better to make videos evaluating how well the show measured up to RJ's promises and claims of faithfulness? But some people took me comparing the show to the books to mean I thought it was a bad thing that they weren't the same, and I hated the show entirely for not being the same as Anne wrote it, and therefore that meant I (and anyone else who loves the books) was racist 🤷

#amc interview with the vampire #vampire chronicles #maven of the eventide

46 notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months

Text

Peter Anderson: Hi, my name is Peter Anderson. I'm from Peter Anderson Studio and we created the title sequence to Good Omens Season Two. So this scene is quite literally a continuation from Season One.

An interesting detail with this scene is the fly. The fly is significant because it stores Gabriel's memory.

Gabriel is hidden in every scene. This is the first time we see it.

This goat is half bird, half goat, representing a mistake in a moment of transformation.

In the pickled herring barrel, we have literally red herrings sticking out.

A lot of the gravestones have hidden engravings, easter eggs, all written by Neil.

[This one says: HERE LIES THE FORMER SHELL OF BEELZEBUB referncing Beelzebub having a new face in S2 :), another ones are: EVERYDAY, JANE AUSTEN, Here lies ADAM (the Adam from Adam and Eve is meant)]

Another hidden Gabriel.

Our same character that was trying to escape Hell in Season One titles is also trying to escape here, moving in the opposite direction to the rest of the procession. Except this time he's apprehended and dragged back into the procession.

Our Hell spider from episode four makes a little appearance in the background here.

Can you tell where the bus is going? Director Douglas McKinnon selected Powell and Pressburger's Stairway to Heaven to put on the billboard.

Another thing to note here is the type is all handmade specifically for Good Omens. The Alphabet only exists within the show.

The big floating turnip is a nod to Azirafel's magic tricks.

The Ladies of Camelot poster we pulled from the show.

We added plaques to the back of the chairs and Neil chose who to honour.

[There are: A TALE OF TWO CITIES by CHARLES DICKENS, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by JANE AUSTEN, THE CROW ROAD by IAIN BANKS (twice!) and GOOD OMENS by TERRY PRATCHETT (Neil missing for some reason :) <3)]

Saraqael made an appearance from Heaven.

Our Space is back from Season One. Aziraphale and Crowley are having a little dance here. A moment of flirtation. There's a tiny planet in the middle that comes into existence at this moment.

Our Scottish tartan hills make an appearance here.

The aeroplane and the airline is a little bit of a clue here.

[THY KINGDOM AIRWAYS 👀]

It's raining love hearts in reference to Aziraphale's attempt at making Maggie and Nina fall in love.

Here are elevators to Heaven and Hell. A wee thing to spot. Here is Gabriel in the lift arriving from Heaven.

We've updated our flags to reference some of the plotlines in Season Two. For example, The Second Coming.

The movie poster artwork changes every week, representing the episode plotlines and the minisodes. We made the posters to look like the time period and in this case we've got a Good Omens version of Buddy Holly.

[The posters are:]

In the snack bar some of our popcorn is actually communion wafers.

There are specific characters from Season One in the boxes watching the movie as the procession goes by. This includes some of our original concept art from Season One.

The duck playing the accordion is from a newspaper headline that someone is reading in The Dirty Donkey from one of the episodes.

[this is also from the Good Omens book :): "Daily Mail. 'Letter From America.' Um, August the third," said Newt. "Just after the story about the woman in Worms, Nebraska, who taught her duck to play the accordion."]

Each episode is showing a new movie on the screen, each one selected by Douglas, and has clues about what's to come.

The season one phone box tumbles in the background.

The big mountain is made of all the ingredients from Season Two and a couple of remnants from Season One. We are heading towards the biggest Easter Egg, which is the lift. We're heading towards the Second Coming..

#good omens #perer anderson #peter anderson studio #bts #opening title #s2 opening title #fun fact #second coming #kingdom thy airways #duck playing accordion #videos #bts videos #easter eggs

3K notes · View notes

hellenhighwater · 5 months

Note

What's your decision making process like for thrifting pieces? I've started looking at thrifting more earnestly, and at antiques in particular to add a bit more character to my otherwise midcentury-influenced space, but I always struggle with envisioning if a piece will "go" with everything else. But you seem like you've got the mixing and matching of pieces down pat, do I'd love to hear your thoughts!

I've gotten a bunch of asks in this vein so I'm going to go a little broader than this ask to cover the general topic.

On a purely practical level, you need to know what you have. I keep what I call a house journal, which is a notebook where I've drawn out room layouts, with measurements for available space, lists of what I'm looking for, dimensions for things like doorways (do not buy anything larger than your doorways) and even fabric and paint swatches. I also keep a digital photo album of house pictures, so if I'm trying to see if something will go, I don't have to rely entirely on memory.

So, important note: my background is not in interior design--it's in set design, studio art, and graphic design, so for me, I fall back on narrative. When you're designing interior spaces for theater or film, the room is not primarily functional: it is, first and foremost, an extension of the character that inhabits it. The room exists to tell you about the person in it.

And often, that's the tack I take in my house--not using my home as a framing device for myself, but for imagined characters. For example, my living room is The Adventurer, or the Archaeologist. The character for that room is someone from decent money in the late Victorian period, the sort of person who spent their live traveling for no particular reason, and brought home all manner of oddities. The room is rich in color and texture; the furniture is mostly late 1800s, and it's both formal and lived in. Choosing things for this room, I ask if that character would own that object. I also used unifying wood tones, and a similar depth of color, to tie things in. Pick a color palette and stick to it.

My drawing room is the Alchemist. There are lots of celestial elements, but it's a workroom, so most of the furniture is very practical and simply designed. It's beaten and worn in, showing marks of use. There is lots of storage, and curious little things in jars, and plants and bones and the tools of my trade. The Alchemist uses this space to make impossible things.

The question then is not "does this match" but "would the character that embodies this space choose this? Why? What does it say about them?"

And what all of that tells you about me, is, well....I don't know, really?

#hellen highwater's house of horrors #this is just what I do

2K notes · View notes

maidragoste · 6 months

Text

The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing her. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. Her brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in his eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. "I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

Taglist: @immyowndefender @tojigirl @paninisstuff @serving-targaryen-realness @aphroditesblunt @thedazzlingburglar @technicallyannoyingninja

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

@chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @diorchaiamet @partypoison00 @camy85 @fluffly @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @targaryenmoony @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @lizlovecraft @natashaobo @nyenye @savagemickey03 @watercolorskyy

For some reason tumblr won't let me tag them: @arabis-world @Snileykiddie08 @Bugheadskid @nzygftoji @lauufeysonnn @missusnora @sabi127 @cicaspair418 @tojigirl

If you want to be part of my taglist

hotd masterlist

3K notes · View notes

inf3ct3dd · 4 months

Text

streamer!ellie pt.2

summary: i hated the other one of this that i made, so REMAKE TIEM!!!

warnings: miiinor sexual content, shit talking, gay people 😒

authors note: heheheh ples don’t flop this time..

- during her faceless days, she opened up a po box so ppl could send her things, and she made an amazon wishlist and she unboxed stuff on stream 😍😍

- one day she was unboxing a giant box of cat toys. string, those little feather stick things, even that weird automatic flapping fish thing (that she secretly loves and taped to her back one time)

- she was playing with this one toy that was a little fishing reel, and it had string and a little fish on the bottom. she went on and onnn about how shes a self proclaimed “fishing master” while garf chased it around, letting out little meows and growls of frustration.

- eventually, she lost her grip and let go of the pole. she bent down to pick it up, forgetting that her face would be in view. thus, the chat started blowing up.

ewwwbruh: FACE REVEAL

ewwife: EW WE CAN SEE UR FACE

ewwife: JUST THE SIDE BUT WE CAN SEE YOUU

ewssidechick: her nose looks so rideable…

- she got distracted petting garfield, and didn’t realize anything until she stood up. she was getting tagged over and over again on twitter, blurry pictures of her face (curtesy of the shitty webcam) circulating through her subreddit.

- “guys. im gonna erase this from ur memory…” and she literally held up this goofy ass hypnotizer pendelum and started fake hypnotizing everyone like “that never happenedddd” “you don’t know what i look likeeee” “that was fakeeee” “chat that was not reallll”

- and everyone literally js went along with it and pretended it never happened. like ppl were tweeting about it and everyone was like “huh??? what are u talking about bruh??”

- she did the same thing after falling off her rainbow unicorn scooter 😞

- one time she revealed that the “ew” in her username stood for her initials, and everyone was making the most horrendous guesses. elliam willace being the favorite one.

- “guys, my name is not edward wilson??? i am…not a man”

- shes gotten into so much drama…multiple notes app apologies have been issued via her instagram story.

- people would ask her opinions on other streamers, and she’d literally just be like “…i have no idea who that is.” and people would get so MADDDD but homegirl is literally just blatantly unaware

- or she would know , and would literally be like “they’re honestly super annoying and i would rather kill myself than watch them but whatever floats ur boat ig!”

- she played that “womp womp womp womppp” sound effect on her soundboard afterwards.

- SPEAKING OF. she abuses that soundboard sooo much. its so obnoxious and annoying like I SWEARRR!!! she’ll tell a horrible pun and play the crowd laughing and cheering sound effects while literally no one laughed.

“guys. whats the best way to watch a fly fishing tournament??”

“…live streaming.”

(crowd cheering sound effect)

“nooo thank you thank you, you’re all too kind, really!!”

- meanwhile chat was dead silent.

- every time she gets to choose her own name on a game its some dumb shit like "jizzmaster" or "chris fucker"

- “it appears you have entered innapropriate content.” “OHHH LOOK AT EPISODE LOOK AT THESE CORPORATE BIGWIGS TRYING TO CONTROL THE LITTLE MAN???”

- she just ended up naming him “chris phucker”

- like when she played episode on stream and made up really annoying voices for all the characters and made her character look like an elderly man, and made the love interest look like you 😍😍

- she messes up sm on games when she streams normally, but when you're there? she is LOCKED THE FUCK IN. sitting there so focused the entire time just to show off

- whenever she randomly goes silent she just starts SINGING. it's either nicki minaj or some fucking fnaf song

"IS THIS THE THANKS THAT I GET FOR PUTTING U BITCHES ON???"

- speaking of, her favorite fnaf song is def “stay calm” cuz she loves saying “hey kids. Nice to eat ya.”

- bought one of those "i paused my game to be here" tshirts…ironically. you refuse to let her wear it in public

- beefs w kids on fortnite sm... she has definitely gotten banned for saying she was gonna bomb a kids house or fuck their mom 😞

- every time she plays a game, she'll literally sit there and watch an 8 hour long video about the lore. she'll plop down on the couch and watch it like a movie

"did you know everyone actually thought that fnaf one took place in 1993, but it was actually 1992?"

- she definitely had you sit next to her when she played through fnaf because she was lowk scared the entire time whenever she heard you walking around the house while she was playing she'd hear footsteps in the hallway and be like. WHAT THE FUCKKK

-she'd have you right next to her, laying your head on her shoulder and messing with her free hand. if you fell asleep, she would be sitting there slapping her hand over her mouth whenever she gets jumpscared bc she doesn't want you to wake up 😞

- sometimes, while she streams , she plays one handed games and lets you sit and draw on her arm for fun. even got you a whole set of those skin markers so u could go ABSOLUTELY HAM. she got one drawing you did that said “r + e 4eva” tattooed in ur handwriting…such a sap

- she loves watching fan edits of herself...AND OF YOU. she'll be on her burner account with a whole collection on tiktok of edits of you.

ewwsbiggestfan: shes so bad i want her to hit me w her car...

- speaking of. imagine her using that account to make shitty capcut edits of you like

- shes ur biggest fan ongod

-WHILE WE’RE ON THE TOPIC OF “fans”…what if i made a completely new origin story for streamer!ellie and reader. what if they were both streamers….

- OKAY SO BASICALLY.

- you had started streaming about a year before ellie did. butttt, you two did very different types of streaming.

- you weren’t very into like, SERIOUS video games. sure, you played some stuff, like animal crossing and roblox and the sims, but nothing more than that.

- that wasn’t what you were streaming though.

- ever since you were younger, you had been wayyyy into…literature.

-by literature i mean fanfiction. heaps of it.

- actors, anime characters, BOOK CHARACTERS, you were in DEEP

- sometimes, for fun, you used to read them out loud in stupid voices. when you were alone, or with your friends, it was very entertaining

- that’s when you got the idea to start streaming it. if it could entertain your friends, and you, whos to say it wouldn’t entertain other people.

- well, it definitely did. in your first year, you hit 10k followers. people loved you. theyd make edits of you, send in requests of fics for you to read, everything.

- a while later, ellie started gaining more and more popularity. out of all the incomes of fame, fanfiction was the most. abundant!

- one day, you got a request to read an ellie x reader fic. at the time, you barely had any idea who she was, but you decided to just go with it 🤞🏽

- “who the fuck is elliam willace???”

- the fanfic was definitely very…graphic!

- “your hips rolled onto her thigh, her slender, tattooed hand palming at your waist. ‘you’re doing so good babe, fuck.’-“ “GUYS. ISN’T SHE NOT ON MUTE RIGHT NOW???”

- you couldn’t help but giggle the rest of the fic, feeling a nagging heat in your core. you didn’t even know who the girl was, but if this fic was accurate, someone would have to sedate you.

-“im actually. gnawing at the iron bars of my enclosure. GUYS. who is this woman…is she real… if she is. things are about to get WICKED.”

- not very thankful to you at the moment, she was very real. apparently, you and her were streaming at the same time, and your followers raided her stream telling her she was reading about you. her curiosity was obviously piqued, and why would she NOT join the stream?

- creeperewman: im definitely real!

- the text on your screen literally made your stomach fall into your ass. you stood up and legit just walked out of the room, camera still on. was she there the whole time???

- creeperewman: aww 😞 where’d she go she’s so badddd

- you eventually returned after a minute of calming yourself down, and low and behold, she gifted you 100 subs and followed you on instagram.

- she was definitely very real!! and that fanfic was…lore accurate. to say the least 😊

- after you two started dating, the two of you would often show up on eachothers streams. ellie, teaching you how to play cod, and you, reading with her.

- she secretly loves reading the fics people write about her and making fun of them, and every time you stream with her shes “subtly” hinting that you should read about her

sitting there pulling on her collar, looking away like “gee, wonder who you’re gonna pick today” with the worst fake laugh ever.

- “ellie can barely ride a scooter, idk why she’s in the mafia rn…” “you fall off ONE TIME and all of a sudden you cant ride a scooter. bullshit.”

- she makes fun of all the dumb pet names like “babygirl” and “darling” and randomly calls you them and bursts out laughing

- you still read those fics when you’re bored sometimes. and ellie MERCILESSLY makes fun of you for it

“yknow, if you missed me that bad, you should’ve just told me.”

#streamer!ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x f!reader #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams

1K notes · View notes

unseededtoast · 3 months

Text

I'd Wait For You | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: In which you find that a broken engagement leads you to the love of your life. (Friends to lovers)

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.9k

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you."

-----

There is something weird in the air this morning, Spencer feels it the second he wakes up, but is unable to put his finger on what it is. As he goes about his morning routine he continues to ponder what this feeling could be from. He hadn't forgotten to turn in any papers, there is no rush to get to work, there is simply nothing going on that would cause this unsettling feeling that takes residence in his chest. But it persists nonetheless.

His commute to work is no better either, the sense of dread looms over him for no particular reason, and the anxiety causes him to pick at the skin around his nails, a bad habit he had stopped long ago. Spencer doesn't consider himself to be superstitious, but this is all beginning to feel a little foreboding to him. But he tries his best to mask the feeling as he walks through the familiar BAU doors, ready to distract himself with whatever tasks get assigned to him today.

The rest of the team shows up a few minutes later than he did, everyone taking their time to get settled at their desks. They had just returned from a case yesterday, so a day in the office is much appreciated.

The minutes slowly tick by and everyone but Spencer begins working on something, he just can't seem to focus today. Instead of trying to force himself to do work, he decides a cup of coffee might bring some sense of normalcy to the morning.

He picks his favorite mug and makes his coffee just as he usually does, but he takes his time stirring in the sugar, becoming entranced in the swirl within the cup as he stirs and stirs. Emily and JJ's voice outside the break room break his trance and he tosses the stir stick away as they walk in, happily talking about something.

"Did you hear?" Emily asks Spencer with a smile on her face. Spencer's eyebrows crease and he recalls the past few days, trying to remember if she is expecting good news. But he comes up short. With a shake of his head, he glances between the two.

"Hear what?" With his question, JJ turns her phone around to show Spencer a picture. As he realizes what is on her screen, he swears he feels his heart stop beating.

"She got engaged!" JJ exclaims, as if it's the best news she will hear all year. And while it might be the best news for her, it couldn't be worse for Spencer.

"About time too." Emily says, looking at Spencer expectantly. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nods shortly.

"Yeah." He tears his eyes away from JJ's screen and brushes by the two of them to get out of the room as quickly as possible, forgetting his coffee on the counter.

Spencer swiftly walks through some of the quieter halls in the office until he finds a secluded conference room. With unsteady hands, he closes the door behind him and lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His mind races with a hundred different thoughts at once, all of them revolving around the photo of you with a shiny ring on your finger.

Spencer should be happy for you, he should be over the moon that you had found happiness. But instead all he feels is sick to his stomach and like he had been kicked in the chest. He closes his eyes tightly, trying to keep tears at bay as he vividly remembers the moment he knew he was head over heels for you. It's a bittersweet memory for him, and one he thinks of quite often.

You had been on the team for a few months when Hotch assigned you and Spencer to put together the geographic profile together. You jumped at the opportunity, eager to learn something new, and he was excited to get to know you better. While the two of you worked together, Spencer couldn't help but notice the sweet smell of your perfume and how you nibbled on your lips as you concentrated. He found himself getting sidetracked by you more and more often, and couldn't help the pink flush of his cheeks whenever you glanced his way. It was on the third morning of working together when he realized that he had started to fall for you; the shiver that ran down his spine confirmed it as your hands brushed when you handed him a cup of coffee.

But that was four years ago, and nothing is the same.

As the memory fades, Spencer tries to pull himself together by straightening his tie and taking a few deep breaths. He's sure that Emily and JJ will have questions, but he's hoping they won't pry into the matter. Although he's sure that they've told everyone else how he ran off.

Once he feels like he's not going to cry at the mention of your name, he leaves the empty conference room and goes back to his desk where he has reports waiting for him. It's wishful thinking, but he hopes they offer some distraction from you. His foot taps with each pen stroke across the page, and he does his best to ignore Morgan's eyes staring at him a few feet away.

"You okay?" Morgan doesn't let Spencer ignore him any longer. With a sigh, Spencer puts the pen down and looks to Morgan, who appears to be studying every microexpression on Spencer's face.

"I'm fine." Spencer tries his best to keep his tone even and nonchalant.

"You don't seem fine." Spencer knows that Derek is just trying to be a good friend, and he appreciates that, but he knows he can't talk about what's bothering him here. Not in front of the team, and not in front of curious eavesdroppers. So to deflect the conversation away from what's really bothering him, Spencer gives a halfhearted answer just to be done with it.

"I guess I'm just ready for the weekend." Spencer quickly averts his gaze away from Derek's, his eyes catching the only photograph that resides on his desk.

It was a picture taken four years ago with the whole team, you had asked for a group photo before you left, and Spencer had printed one for himself as well. You were in the middle of the group, one arm wrapped around Spencer while the other wrapped around Emily. A wide, bright smile was on your face, but he knew if he looked hard enough he could see the tears you fought away, the same ones that broke loose immediately after the camera's flash.

Before you left you had admitted to Spencer that you didn't really want to leave, but your boyfriend had received a job offer he couldn't refuse, one that was across the country. Every bit of Spencer wanted to beg you to stay, but he knew how happy your boyfriend made you, and he couldn't bear to see you unhappy. So he swallowed his pride and encouraged you to go, to embrace new opportunities; but he made a point to let you know that you would always be welcomed back with open arms.

The night you left Spencer remembers how he cried for hours, looking at the photo and knowing that he would likely never see you again. He knew he would never be able to forget your smile, your kindness, and all of your quirks that he had fallen in love with over the years. His heart constricted with the thought of another man's hands on you, but he could only blame himself, for he had never found the courage to tell you how he really felt.

-----

Rain splatters on the windshield as you speed down the highway, the wipers trying their hardest to keep your view clear. Your mind had become numb to the inclement weather at this point, having already traveled eighteen hours of the twenty five hour journey; a journey you never thought you'd make. But here you are, driving on an empty highway in the middle of the night, alone.

Mile after mile flies by, your thoughts replaying yesterday's events over and over again like an unhealthy obsession. It had come as a shock, walking into your home to see your fiancé with another woman on his lap. You weren't expected back home for a few more hours, but your boss had let you go early.

You remember vividly how excited you were to come home early for once, to spend time with your fiancé because work had been keeping you busy. But that excitement turned to nausea within a second. She had her arms around his neck, he had his hands on her waist, both of their faces flushed. Of course he tried to tell you it was a misunderstanding.

"It's not what it looked like." He begged you as you zipped up your last suitcase. Without sparing him a glance, you wheeled the luggage to the front door, unusually calm despite the circumstances. Your hand rested on the cold handle and you cleared your throat.

"Don't call me, don't text me. If I left something here I will have my attorney contact you." Is all you said before you left your home of four years. Maintaining composure, you placed the bag in the back of your car and got inside.

As soon as your home disappeared from view in your rearview mirrors, the dam broke. Tears fell quickly down your cheeks, harsh breaths wracked your chest, your hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. You must've cried for hours before the tears dried, your breathing had leveled, and your aching hands eased up on the wheel. Within the blink of an eye, your life had been turned upside down and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.

You decided to go back to Washington D.C., the one place you really ever considered home, after a few hours of driving East. Truthfully, you have no idea what you're going to do or where you're going to go once you get there, and you only have a few hours to figure it out. But you have blind faith that you'll figure something out, even if it does take a few days.

-----

The next day, you wake in a hotel room, enveloped in pristine white covers. The sun peeks through the heavy curtains, and you rub the sleep from your eyes. Checking your phone, you see dozens of missed calls and unanswered text messages from your now ex-fiancé. It seems he can't follow instructions very well. You ignore his messages and delete his voicemails without listening to them, you have no desire to waste your time listening to his lies.

You scroll through your contact list and block his number, eager to be rid of the man as fast as possible. While scrolling, your thumb lands on a distantly familiar name, and an idea blooms in your mind. Your eyes read over his contact card for a second, Aaron Hotchner, your old boss. You could always call and see if there's any chance the team would take you back. Though it would be humiliating to explain why you had come back, you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the team who became your family.

The thought of being reunited with them is enough to send Aaron a text before you can talk yourself out of it. It's a simple message, and right to the point. If there's one thing you remember about Hotch, it's how he appreciated conciseness.

Your phone finds its way to the side table as you get out of bed and get ready for the day. You had no plans in particular, and you had the hotel room booked for another week, so there was no immediate rush to get out. Today you would allow yourself to meander aimlessly and tomorrow you would get serious about finding a place to rent.

Halfway through your unplanned day, your phone buzzes in your pocket and your heart drops. There's only one person it could be. Not having the patience or restraint to wait, you pull your phone out immediately and read the text from Aaron.

"Come by the office tomorrow." The message is simple, in true Aaron fashion and a smile breaks out on your face, happy that something is finally starting to look up.

-----

Familiar glass doors are feet away from you, the FBI logo engraved into the glass, they look exactly like you remembered. Your heart thumps in your chest with each footstep towards the door. You hadn't told anyone but Hotch about wanting to come back, but you know when you walk through these doors that all hell is going to break loose. With a deep, calming breath, you open the doors and start towards Hotch's office casually.

But of course, as fate would have it, you don't make it there without being noticed. To your right, you hear a gasp, then another, and then suddenly your name is being called out by your old friends. Turning to face them, it's like everything is starting to click and fall into place. Emily and JJ rush over to you, smiles on their faces, and you can't help but smile as well. You've missed your team dearly.

"I didn't know you were coming!" Emily says as she wraps you in a warm hug, to which you return.

"Yeah, it was kind of unplanned actually." You say, stepping back from her arms. JJ and Emily look at you expectantly, but instead of giving them the answer they're wanting to hear, you take another step back and look to Hotch's office.

"We'll catch up later." JJ smiles, noticing your eagerness to get to Hotch. You nod before turning away. With a light knock, you knuckles make contact with the wooden office door.

"Come in." Hotch's deep voice calls out.

When you enter, he stands with a ghost of a smirk on his face and extends his hand. You return his handshake and take a seat in front of his desk.

"It's good to see you again." He says as he sits back down and you sigh, looking around at the office. Hotch really hasn't changed anything since you've been gone.

"Yeah, it feels good to be here again." You answer truthfully, meeting his eyes.

"I assume this isn't just a visit?" He questions, interlocking his fingers together in front of him.

"Perceptive as always. But you're right. Listen, I haven't told anyone but I am no longer with my fiancé and I was wondering if the team had a vacancy you're looking to fill." You get right to the point and your stomach turns with anxiety. Hotch's eyebrows lift at your words and you can tell he hadn't been expecting those words to come out of your mouth. But after a few moments of contemplation, he finally answers.

"We would be glad to have you back. When can you start?" You blink a few times, trying to process that he had actually welcomed you back and hadn't let you down gently, like you had half been expecting.

"I um, I can start whenever." You say, stumbling over your words with excitement. This time, a noticeable smile adorns Hotch's face.

"How about you get settled back here first, then we can talk about coming back." He says and you agree, knowing that having a stable place to live first is probably the right thing to take care of before diving headfirst into work again.

After catching up with Hotch, he allows you to mingle around the bullpen, where your old friends have been anxiously waiting. You can tell from the look on their faces that they're expecting some sort of explanation, and you can't help yourself but share the news.

"I'm back!" You say with a wide smile. JJ and Emily cheer, Morgan comes and claps you on the back, and even Penelope comes out and talks a million miles a minute about how you need to tell them everything. And while you love being back with your team, you can't help but notice how Spencer lingers in the background.

Spencer and you had grown very close over your years together, and once you had moved away you hadn't really heard from him. It hurt, but you understood and didn't want to pressure him to keep contact. But you really had missed him. You catch his eye from across the room and you smile, knowing that once you're back full time that you will have a lot of time to catch up with him, and you hope that you're able to pick up right where you left off.

----- "Well it looks like you're getting quite the welcome back. Four women went missing in Athens, Tennessee. All four of them were found on the same day in the same manner. They had their arms tied behind their backs and their heads were submerged under water. But the medical examiner does not believe they died by drowning." Penelope briefs the team on the newest case and as she speaks you study the images in front of you.

It's been years since you've worked a case, or really in any law enforcement capacity at all. Once you had moved out west with your ex-fiancé you had decided to take a job as a daycare teacher. It was a nice change of pace for a while, but it makes getting back into the BAU lifestyle that much more difficult. After being surrounded by innocent children for years, you're now being re-immersed in a world full of psychopaths and it feels overwhelming.

You sit back as the team discusses early theories. Once upon a time you would have jumped in with your own thoughts, but you suddenly feel under qualified to be here. It has you second guessing whether this was the right decision or not. But before you can dwell on that for very long, the team is loading the jet and speeding off to Tennessee.

While on the jet, Hotch assigns everyone their duties, and you find yourself being paired with Spencer, just like you usually were. Being paired with him ignites a feeling of excitement within you. You still hadn't been able to catch up with him properly, but you're hoping this could change that.

Everyone keeps to themselves for the majority of the ride, busying themselves with reviewing the case and resting up. Once upon a time, you usually tried to sneak in a nap on the way to a new case, but the nerves creeping around in your veins keep you unable to do so, instead you worry about performing well for the sake of your reputation.

When the plane lands, the team hits the ground running. Some members go to the medical examiner's office, others go to interview the families, while you and Spencer are left to piece together the geographical profile. He's spread a map out on a table and marked where the bodies were found.

You pitch in when you feel comfortable with your findings, such as where the victims were last seen. The beginning of the process is fairly straight forward, it isn't until the deduction part until you start feeling dread and nervousness. Spencer hadn't said a single word directly to you, he's only spoken into the open air and you've responded.

"Well, what if they were all going to the doctor for the same condition?" You pitched in and Spencer hummed in response. And for the first time, he finally acknowledges you directly.

"You might actually be onto something. Let me call Garcia." His words are rushed and he leaves the room as the phone dials. Your heart sinks as he leaves. This isn't like how it used to be at all. No, you and Spencer were always a dynamic duo, but this feels very static and compartmentalized.

Perhaps it's because he's unsure if your abilities are still up to par. Or maybe he's still upset that you left in the first place. You couldn't be sure, but you hoped that this phase would pass soon so that you could have your dear friend back.

-----

You look at the clock with burning eyes, seeing that it's already one in the morning. The rest of the team had left for the motel hours ago, but you and Spencer had stayed at the station, having struck gold with Garcia. Apparently, all of the victims had contracted a very unique disease and so you and Spencer had researched that disease extensively to locate where they could've contracted it from.

So far, there was a very limited list of possibilities. With your mind becoming more fuzzy with exhaustion you know you're not being a very good teammate. Yawning, you break the long-standing silence and stand from your seat.

"I think I'm going to go to the motel, I'm exhausted and I can't comprehend anything I'm reading anymore." You announce, throwing away your empty coffee cup from hours earlier. Spencer caps the marker he's using and straightens his posture.

"Yeah, I'll go with you." He rubs his eyes as he stands, and the two of you walk out of the station together.

The night is warm and you appreciate the night sky as the two of you walk back to the motel. Your brain feels like it's been put through a meat grinder, and the unrelenting nerves double down on your exhaustion. It feels like your feet weigh twenty pounds each and so when you finally reach the motel, it's like seeing an oasis in the desert. Spencer goes in for the keys to your room and to his room and you notice the teams' cars parked in the lot.

"Bad news." Spencer says as he walks back from the lobby.

"What?" Dread fills you and you're not sure how much more you can take before you mentally break and physically collapse.

"They had to rent out one of our rooms, I guess they made a deal with Hotch for a partial refund. So, the two of us are going to be in room B12." He says, swinging the keys from his finger.

"You're kidding." Your voice is monotone. All you had wanted was some space alone, but you can't even be afforded that luxury. Instead of arguing or complaining further though, you just sigh and head towards room B12, where you trust the others have relocated your items.

You hear Spencer follow closely behind you and he unlocks the door once you reach it. Inside, there's one bed and one small armchair. The two of you just stand in the doorway, staring at the inadequate accommodations.

"I can go see if I can get the keys to one of the cars." Exhaustion is thick in your voice and you feel beat down and defeated from the day.

"No, you don't have to do that. I can take one of the cars." Spencer speaks up as you turn to leave and you meet his eyes, tiredness obvious.

"Spencer you're too tall. No, just let me it's okay." You take a step forward, but he catches your upper arm.

"Listen, Hotch needs the sleep, he hasn't been resting well lately. So why don't we just try to figure something out here." He lets go of your arm and closes the door behind him. At this point, you just want to sleep and so you agree.

"Yeah, sure. I'm going to get changed." You say and rub your eyes as you go to rummage around your bag for something comfortable. As you go to the bathroom, you hear Spencer messing with the blankets.

Once the door is closed behind you, you grip the edge of the counter and look in the mirror. Your bloodshot eyes stare back and the anxiety of the day catches up to you with full force. Feelings of inadequacy and disappointment fill you and you worry that you're letting the team down by not being able to solve things faster. Once again you find yourself wondering if coming back was the right decision.

You let go of the counter and change, ready to pass out for a few hours and be dead to the world, hoping that your anxieties don't also infiltrate your dreams. When you exit you see that Spencer has changed as well, and has also constructed a sort of pillow wall in the middle of the bed. You can't help but smile at his efforts.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" You ask, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. After all your years of knowing Spencer, you knew he valued his personal space. He nervously nods and clears his throat as you approach the bed.

"Yeah, it's fine. Are you sure your fiancé isn't going to care?" His words are calculated and from the look on his face you can tell he had been stressing over this for a little while.

Looking down at your finger, you see the glistening ring and you spin it around a few times, remembering what it used to symbolize. You hadn't wanted to tell anyone about the break up just yet, but you know you have to tell Spencer now, or he'll be up all night worrying about the fiancé he thinks you have.

"I um, I don't have a fiancé anymore." Your voice is soft and you hear the vulnerability in it. Unable to meet Spencer's eyes, you just keep staring at the ring.

"But I thought, you're wearing the ring, and JJ said that-" He stumbles over his words and you finally look up to him, seeing him in an almost panicked state.

"We broke up. I left him, actually. I came home and saw another woman on top of him." You admit, fingers leaving the ring as you mention the infidelity. His eyes glance down to the ring before he meets your eyes again.

"I'm sorry I didn't know." He says with exasperation and you shrug but beneath your calm demeanor you feel the repressed sadness and anger within you.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone yet but I didn't want you to worry. But yeah, I left that same night and haven't looked back." You sit on the edge of the bed and Spencer follows suit, the two of you almost shoulder to shoulder and it feels like your friend is coming back to you.

"You didn't deserve that." His voice is kind and soft.

"I know. I just wish I hadn't wasted all that time on him. I wish I hadn't moved away from everyone. I missed you all every single day and for all of it to have been for nothing is just, it's a hard pill to swallow." You tell him, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself for any longer. You feel tears burning the rims of your eyes and for the first time since that day, you allow yourself to feel the emotions you've worked hard to ignore.

"Come here. I've missed you too. We all have. But we're so happy to have you back." Spencer wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him. He rubs small circles on your back as you sniffle, and you're thankful for him. This feels like the Spencer you know and a familiar comfort overcomes you.

You remember all the cases where he would help you deal with the trauma. After particularly hard cases, he would always remind you that you were welcome to call or drop by anytime, that he would be there any hour. In the mornings he would bring you coffee and he'd ask about your night or weekend. Everything with Spencer was always effortless.

And after a few minutes had passed, you and Spencer get into bed, pillow wall be damned as you link your pinky with his, just to know that he's here with you. That night your fears and anxieties did not follow you into your dreams.

-----

Spencer knows he shouldn't be happy to hear that you left you fiancé. As your friend, he should be upset with you and sympathetic. But instead all he feels is a deep sense of relief.

Since working side by side with you, the shiny ring on your finger had become quite the annoying distraction. Every time it caught the light it served as a reminder that he could never have you. But now, it no longer holds any power over him.

And when you link your pinky with his, an unfamiliar feeling blooms within him. One of hope, one that had long died inside of him when you moved away.

He's happy that you came back and before he falls asleep with you by his side, he promises himself that he will not lose this opportunity. This is his second chance and he will take it when he finds the right time.

-----

Three days later and the case is coming to a close, you can feel it in your bones. You and Spencer had begun working as a duo once again and successfully put together a full geographic profile.

Now, all that's left is to locate the suspect and bring him in for questioning. You and Spencer sit around a table waiting for the others to come back from their field investigations, and you can't help but notice how his hair is curlier than you remember.

Not only is his hair curlier, but you notice how the sun brings out the honey tones in his eyes. His long fingers lock together as he looks over a map, which is what you should be doing as well, but instead find yourself admiring Spencer.

He had grown in the last five years, blossomed into the bright man you knew him to be and he seems more comfortable in his own skin. You're happy he's finding his stride. And you can't deny the newfound confidence looks good on him.

With the realization that your thoughts had taken a turn, you snap yourself back to focus on the task at hand. There's no way you were just checking out Spencer of all people. No way. As quick as they manifested themselves, you repressed them deep within your mind.

Thankfully the others arrive back with good news, they've found the suspect; he was almost exactly in the center of the projected safe zone you and Spencer had established. They don't stay long as they gather the sheriff and some deputies before they go and arrest the man. You're sure that the team has found the right man, and you believe he's going to crack as soon as they put some pressure on him. You and Spencer stay behind to lend technical support if they need it.

Turns out, you were right again. It took all of ten minutes before the suspect confessed. The man who wanted to be seen as confident crumbled into a sobbing mess under Hotch's questions. He was taken to the county jail in cuffs and the team was left to pack up and head back to Quantico. You had forgotten what it felt like, what it really felt like, to solve a case. The feeling sinks in and you remember just how much you've missed this job.

The jet ride back to Quantico is fairly silent. Everyone has found their own thing to do and while they decompressed you looked out the window. The view from the jet never really got old, you always found some beauty staring out into the clouds. But eventually, your eyes drift from the wispy clouds to Spencer, who has opted to take a nap on the journey home. And once again, you come to appreciate him more so than you ever have for his continued friendship.

You're happy that you came back, and you look forward to what the future may hold.

-----

The night is chilly but the sky is clear. You and Spencer walk side by side down a path alongside a river, the two of you stressed about work and thankful to finally have a Friday night to yourselves. Of course, the others all had plans, except for you and Spencer, so you both decided to take a late night walk.

You look up to the sky and admire the stars, seeing some shining brighter than others. You're sure Spencer has a fun fact as to why that is, but you're perfectly happy to just walk beside him in quiet content. It's been a month now since you've been back and you feel like you and Spencer had grown closer than ever before in that short amount of time.

Your gaze shifts from the stars to him, admiring his side profile and how defined his features are. There's no denying that he's grown into his features nicely, and you can't help but to appreciate his beauty, inside and out.

Eventually the path leads you to a small stone bridge that arches over the river. Crickets chirp in the distance and the moonlight reflects beautifully off the calm water. Leaning forward on the stones, you take a deep breath of crisp air and close your eyes to appreciate the moment of peace.

"You're still wearing your ring." Spencer's voice breaks the silence between you. Looking down, you see how the diamond is reflecting the moonlight. It's a beautiful ring, yet you had never been so disgusted with a piece of jewelry.

"Yeah." You twist the ring around and around on your finger before you take it off.

"Are you going to tell the others? I know they've been asking." He says and you nod slowly.

"Yeah, I'm going to tell them, I just don't know how to I guess. They're all so happy that I've 'found the one' but, he was the furthest thing from my soulmate. I just don't want them to pity me." You say, meeting his eyes. Spencer leans on the bridge's railing as well, his eyes trained on the ring in front of you.

"You know you don't owe them anything, right? They'll understand." He encourages, and you know he's right but you can't help but feel anxious about it.

"I know they will." You say, looking back down to the ring.

What once used to symbolize loyalty and undying love is now nothing more than a reminder of the time you had wasted and the time you'll never be able to get back. It reminds you of how you bent over backwards to please that man, one who used and took advantage of you. Anger rises within you and in a split second decision, you toss the ring into the river below.

It sinks to the bottom, out of your sight forevermore. And as it sinks it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You feel free, untethered.

"I didn't mean for you to throw it away you probably could've sold it for a good amount of money." Spencer rattles off, obviously flustered that you just threw a thousand dollar ring into the river. But you just shrug, at peace with your decision.

"It was worthless." You say with conviction. Spencer's lips fall apart and your heart beats faster when you meet his eyes.

"Come on, it's getting cold out here." You break yourself out of your own thoughts and Spencer nods, offering you his arm.

You link your arm with his as the two of you walk back to the parking lot and it feels right. Being around Spencer feels effortless and you feel like you can be your true, most authentic self around him without worrying about judgment. His presence makes you feel safe and secure, and as you walk you rest your head on his arm lightly, grateful to have him.

-----

"No I think you put it on backwards." Spencer says, reading the instruction manual again. You take a step back and look at the chair you're trying to assemble and see that he's most definitely correct.

"I think you're right. Why is building a chair this complicated?" You ask as you sit back down and begin disassembling the part you had just put on.

It's now been four months since you've been back. In that time you've found an apartment and have decided to finally furnish it. And thanks to Spencer, you don't have to assemble the furniture alone. The two of you had put together a credenza, a bookshelf, a side table, and now are tackling the chairs, which are proving to be more of a challenge than anticipated.

After another hour, the chairs are finally assembled. Spencer collapses on your couch dramatically as you push the last one in to complete the dining set. Feeling like he deserves some thanks for helping you today, you go to the kitchen and pour him a glass of wine.

You return to your couch and sit next to him, putting the glass in his hand. He hums in appreciation and takes a sip. Before you partake in your own glass, you go and turn on the fireplace, feeling like it would complete the atmosphere. The amber glow from the flames envelope the two of you in warmth, and you take a long sip of your wine.

It's not unusual for Spencer to be over at your apartment anymore, he had been coming over pretty consistently since the night you two had taken a walk over the river. It's like something changed that night between the two of you; like throwing the ring was symbolic of more than just unloading past baggage. It's like it allowed you to move on and start anew.

Lately, you found yourself thinking about Spencer more and more often. When he wasn't around you find yourself missing him. You miss his humor, his comfort, just everything about him. Every time he knocks on your door butterflies erupt in your tummy and you're unable to keep the smile off your face.

You had denied the feelings for a while, explaining them away as just sentiments of friendship. But eventually, you had come to realize that you had slowly fell in love with your best friend. He makes your days brighter and brings peace to your soul.

As you sip on your wine, you move closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. There's just something about Spencer that draws you in, almost as if he has his own gravitational pull. Like he's the sun and you're just a planet in his orbit. But you wouldn't have it any other way. Spencer puts an arm around your shoulders and hugs you closer, sending a warm feeling down your spine. If only you could stay like this forever.

The two of you finish off the wine in a comfortable silence, and it's not too long after that you find your eyelids growing heavy. You burrow yourself closer to Spencer, who adjusts so that you two can comfortably lay on the couch together. The crackling of the fire and Spencer's warmth lulls you close to sleep, and you might have fallen asleep, had it not been for feeling Spencer pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

The kiss was quick, gentle, but you know he had meant it. As you lay on him, head on his chest, his arms wrap you up and hug you tight, like he's afraid you'd float away if he let you go. You feel warmness creep up into your cheeks as his hands start rubbing slow circles on your back. It's almost like he wants you to fall asleep on him.

Before you're pulled into sleep, you look up at him through your lashes, only to be met with his warm, tender gaze already on you. Your lips fall apart as you feel the butterflies take flight in your tummy. Up close and under the soft glow of the fire, you're sure Spencer was actually an angel in human form. You had never seen such delicate beauty before.

Unable to stop yourself, your hand travels up his torso before it rests on his cheek. Your thumb gently strokes over his cheekbone as the two of you explore each other's eyes. It's unspoken, but you feel as if there's an agreement between the two of you, an acknowledgement of sorts.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you lean up and press your lips to his. He's warm and soft, and his hands cradle your face as if you were made of glass. Your lips move in perfect tandem, as if you had done this a million times before.

When your lungs begin to burn, it's only then that you pull away with a heated face and swollen lips. You blink a few times as you gaze into his eyes, seeing his pupils dilated and his lips pinker than they were just a moment earlier. His hands hold your face delicately and he looks at you as if you had personally put all the stars in the sky.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you." He whispers before leaning in for another kiss. His words are deliberate and genuine, and you know he's not lying.

As you break away again, a smile finds its way to your face. Spencer smiles back and it feels like things are falling perfectly into place. You wish you had the ability to bottle this moment up and preserve it. Your heart and soul had never felt such peace than when you're in Spencer's loving arms.

You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, knowing with every fiber of your being that Spencer Reid is the man you're going to spend the rest of your days with.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fanfiction #mgg #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 5 months

Text

close call ☆ cs55

genre: smut, humor, established relationship

word count: 1.8k

After a tough season, you and Carlos want nothing more than to unwind. Though, what you have in mind is known for not always having the best outcome.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+... shower sex, fingering

req!... sorry that it took me so long to post! school sucks :(

“Glad that shit show is finally over.”

Charles lets out a loud laugh as he throws his head back, shooting out a quick goodbye. Your boyfriend clumsily swings his arm over your shoulder as you both slowly make your way over to his car. Post-season testing was officially over and now came what you were both looking forward to.

Doing absolutely nothing.

“What should we do now?”

Tapping a finger against your glossy lips, you look up at the sky, trying to come up with an idea. Abu Dhabi was beautiful; there had to be a lot to do. Shimming away from his embrace, you turn to face Carlos. “We should go jet skiing!” His smile drops.

“No way.”

You stick your tongue out as you smack his toned chest. “But it was so much fun last time we went! Oh! Don’t you remember, Carlos?” The way your eyes shine with the memory makes him almost fall for it. But alas, he stood his ground.

“You flew right off the jet and almost died. That was fun to you?” He opens the passenger door. “Because it wasn’t for me.” Slamming it shut, he walks around the car, leaving you to slump into the Ferrari seat.

“I almost touched the clouds,” you try as he clicks his tongue, large hands maneuvering the wheel to reverse out of the parking lot. More like you almost met God. You groan as you turn your music up and roll the window down. You know how much he hated not being able to hear you and talk to you. Or how he hated not being able to see your pretty face when the wind makes your hair fly all over the place. Can you please stop? Bobbing your head up and down to the beat, you look out at the scenery.

“You’re being a brat-”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean - you’re being an angel!” He pulls his phone out before handing it over to you carefully, as if you would bite his head off at any moment. “Go ahead and pull up the directions, preciosa.”

As soon as he parks on the beach, you hop out, giddy with excitement. His hands flies up to fix his sunglasses that were beginning to slide down his nose. He squints at the bright sun. We don’t have the proper attire. Silently, you grab the keys from him as you open the trunk. Neatly, inside a tote bag, is your bikini and his swim trunks. He chews the inside of his cheek. Of course, he mutters as you take his hand and drag him along.

“I know you!” With a firm smile, the Spaniard waves at the older lady. Hello. Rushing past him, she waddles her way over to you. Despite being confused, you still let out a bright smile. Scanning you up and down, she nods excitedly. “I knew it was you!”

Growing a bit protective over this weird encounter, Carlos stands in front of you and forces a polite grin. And it’s almost as if you have no idea over the concept of danger because you just run around him and start introducing yourself. He shakes his head in disapproval, floppy brown hair following.

“I’m Tori! I was your instructor last time you were here! I could never forget someone so pretty.” She turns her attention over to the tall Spaniard. “She almost died on my watch, too. I thought you were about to throw a lawsuit on me.”

“I would have-”

“He’s kidding!” You lean in to hug her as if you're a long lost sister. He makes sure to hold onto the back of your skirt, ready to fling you back. Just in case. “What do you say we just forget about any of that, Tori? I wanna get on the jet ski.”

“Long forgotten! Let’s go.”

Carlos is left with his jaw on the floor as he glares at you both skipping away together.

“Nos vamos a morir.”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“No. You’re not.”

You narrow your eyes at Carlos as you cross your arms in frustration. He doesn’t even bat an eye at your actions; let alone your words. “I will if you continue threatening me.” Turning to face Tori, who stands next to the white jet ski, you raise your hands up in alarm. “He’s threatening me, Victoria.”

“Por favor…” He rolls his brown eyes. “I’m only doing this because I love you. And because I want us to live a long and happy life together. Have a kid or two?”

“This won’t be the end of the world! I just want to drive it.”

Pressing a quick peck on your pink lips, he shakes his head. “Not this time.”

With a grumpy attitude and a deep frown, you eventually oblige. Taking you by the hand, he helps you take a seat behind him as he reaches out for the keys. Tori smiles. Just ignite it and off you go! Enjoy the ride.

“Mierda,” he gasps as he resurfaces from the water. Treading to keep afloat, he turns his head with urgency to find you. His heavy pants are the only thing being heard as he slowly loses his mind. Feeling something tickle his lower calf, he yelps as he lets out a strong kick against the tides. Poking your head out from underneath the blue waves, you choke on salt water.

“Asshole! You kicked my face!”

“I didn’t know that was you!”

Brushing long strands of wet hair off your eyes, you muster a dirty look. A large smile hugs his lips. “And you said I drive bad…What happened to being an F1 driver?”

Regardless of you pouting over his shoulder, you had eventually found yourself enjoying gliding through the waves. You could’ve sworn you saw a mermaid, too. Though, you can’t exactly pinpoint the moment your boyfriend lost control and sent you two flying.

He gapes before rubbing his hand against his jaw . You shudder. “I drive cars for a living, not jet skis…” You let out a teasing smile. Whatever you say, mi amor.

After your rescue from Tori and the crew, you both agreed to call it a day and just head back to your hotel. Except now, you wouldn’t let the story die.

“He was like, ‘I’ll keep you safe, baby. Don’t you worry, baby.’ He didn’t even last 5 minutes!” Folding over, you twirl all over the bed as you laugh; a frowning Spaniard holding the phone out. Lando cackles loudly from the other side of the FaceTime call.

“And he said you’re the bad driver.”

Jumping up, you nod profusely. “My fucking point!” The brunette briskly ends the call before tossing the phone onto the counter. I think that’s enough, don’t you think? You bite back a much needed smile as you shrug. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower, old man.”

Carlos would like to say that his ego wasn’t hurt, but that would be a complete lie. Maybe it was just a tiny bit bruised. Your words circle his mind as he grows more annoyed. He knows he shouldn’t be because he knows you meant it all as a joke, but now he feels like he has a point to make.

He still had some control.

Humming to yourself, you calmly finish rinsing your hair, making sure to get all the shampoo out. You’re about to turn around to grab your vanilla body wash, when a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You scream as you push away, slipping and falling on your butt.

“Oh shit.” Aiming a harsh look at the 29 year old, you throw your head back as you let out a deep sigh. Why, Carlos, why? Hurrying to help you stand up, he kisses you all over your collarbones. “I’m sorry! I just wanted to surprise you!”

“Consider me surprised.”

His long fingers brush down your waist and in between your thighs. You let out a small whimper. “Forgive me? For almost killing you twice in one day. It wasn’t my intention.” He slips in a large finger. “You know it wasn’t my intention.” Your eyes have fluttered shut as you nod. I know it wasn’t. He smiles as he starts circling his finger inside your velvety walls. Letting out a moan, you rest your forehead against his chest.

The temperature of the warm water and the sounds you’re releasing are enough for him to become a tad bit too needy. Pulling his fingers out, he licks them before looking down at your confused expression. Without a single warning, he lifts you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his torso. You shake your head; eyes wide with worry.

“We’re gonna die if we do this.”

He shrugs, a long strand of hair pressed down against his face from how wet it’s become due to the running water. “What’s one more close call?” You’re about to protest, but that quickly goes out the window when you feel him thrust inside of you. Moaning in unison, you tug on his brown hair.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I don’t care.”

Not a single time during your entire relationship have you done anything like this, so, it came as a complete surprise for him to be so good at not dropping you and being able to keep his dirty rhythm. Mewling against his lips, you clench around him harder when he keeps brushing against your g-spot.

“Oh-”

Pressing his lips deeper against yours, he groans. “Stop fucking talking.” But you’re too fucked in the head to register his words. Oh God, Carlos. Shit, shit, shit. You run your nails against his broad shoulders. Just like t-that. Fuck- He slaps a large hand over your mouth as he flickers his dark gaze to you. You can physically feel your soul leave your body. “I said to shut up.” He thrust harder as your eyes squeezed shut. “Shut up or I’m seriously going to lose my mind and I will drop you.” Blinking fast, you nod as you bite down on your bottom lip.

You would do anything in order for him to keep going.

It doesn’t take long for you both to finish together; ropes of white cum painting your insides. Letting out a shaky breath, you lean your head against the wall. He smiles as he sucks down on your neck. Giggling, you pull away as you grin ear to ear. “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“I had this one girlfriend-” You pinch his ear with all your might as he lets out a squeak in pain. “¡Era broma!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t find your joke funny.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. It wasn’t right for me to say that.” Craning his head down to make you look at him, he lets out a weak smile. “There’s only you, for me. That’s it. No one else matters.”

Climbing down, you kneel down in front of him, taking in his large figure and delicate hand wrapping around his hard cock.

“Best believe there’s no one else.”

1K notes · View notes

hedgehog-moss · 5 months

Text

I meant to go admire a frozen waterfall yesterday, but I'm scared of driving on slippery roads so I ended up abandoning my car and my dreams and just wandering about by foot, following random roads.

(These first two photos are a little bit blurry because I took them while walking, but it does give them a certain je ne sais quoi... They look like childhood memories)

The soles of my boots had zero grip and were therefore great for sliding, so I ended up taking two sticks and using them like cross-country skiing poles to propel myself forward on the iciest portions of the road. It was fun! Pandolf thought I was insane. He was being extremely prudent on the icy patches, testing each step:

At the beginning of our walk he was prancing as usual but then at one point his front paws slipped forward without warning, turning him into a very long slinky dog. It was pretty funny. I laughed. I admit. He wasn't hurt but definitely a bit vexed.

We did leave the icy road on numerous occasions, to slip under fences and cross promising pastures (promising = lots of footprints; potential friends.) We met several creatures! Like this adorable shetland pony—I tried to take a photo from afar, with Pandolf nearby for scale, to show how scandalously tiny he was, but that turned out to be impossible because he was too friendly. Every time I took a step back he took two steps forward. Clearly he thought he was even better-looking from up close.

We also ran into the darling goat I mentioned yesterday, and I was told by several people on here that she looked more like a ewe.

Sorry for the mistake! But also I tried to look further into this and became more and more confused, as every source that mentioned a foolproof way to tell goats from sheep was disproven by another source—I found one that said sheep had a split upper lip while goats didn't (and my mystery friend didn't), but then another website contradicted it. I ended up with 32 tabs open with photos of goats and sheep of all kinds, some of which looked downright bizarre (what's with the Jar Jar Binks ears), and I began losing my grasp on the concept of animal species altogether. I understood how Darwin must have felt when he tried to figure out the differences between species of barnacles and asked people to send him various specimens and ended up with giant teetering piles of wet smelly boxes full of barnacles in his study that threatened to collapse and bury him alive. Then I closed my 32 tabs.

Honestly ever since learning that some sheep have horns and some goats don't, I've been lost. Not to mention, our mystery girl had a sheep-like tail but a goat-like beard. Are there sheep out there with beards and if yes, how do we make sense of the world? We should be able to point at a mammal with a goatee and say "goat" without doubting ourselves. That's my manifesto.

Whatever she was, the goat-ewe was very sweet, and she baa-ed a lot—at first I thought she was making conversation and I politely baa-ed back, before realising she was calling her horse bodyguards, just in case. Two horses soon showed up from behind a tree, very "What seems to be the problem ma'am?"

I offered nose scritches to the friendliest of the two and she went to report to the goat like "We've neutralised the threat."

Let me insert another (blurry) photo of a travelling Pandolf to symbolise the passing of time before moving on to our last encounter:

... I also had trouble taking photos of this one at first, because she kept coming closer to inspect my scarf—I thought she wanted to explore my pockets for potential treats like Pirlouit often does but no, she was very interested in the smell (texture?) of my scarf specifically.

The sky had cleared as we went down from 1300 to 1100m, as if we'd slipped under the clouds, so I tried to take a photo of this nice late-afternoon sky, and the horse finally stopped focusing on my scarf and instead started insistently positioning herself between me and my beautiful landscape.

Look at this lovely golden light in the snow over there which I was almost able to capture!

Meanwhile her pasture mate was eating a whole broom plant, slowly and thoughtfully, which makes me jealous because my llamas are supposed to eat brooms and they mostly don't, they think they're too good for brooms. They eat the very young ones but not adult brooms, so I have to do the work of three llamas and cut them myself. I wish I could send the Pampses as interns in this pasture, to learn the art of brush-clearing from this wise old horse.

I tried to take one last landscape photo and gave up when the aspiring model came to pose again.

Where was Pandolf, you might ask? Pandolf doesn't trust horses, especially large farm horses, and was quietly and insistently trying to convince me to leave. When Model Horse tried to greet him (it looks like she's chasing him but no, she was just stretching her neck to sniff him) he beat a hasty retreat toward the icy road, his former enemy. Some guard dog.

It may sound like Pandolf didn't have a very fun time on this walk, slipping on ice and running from horses, but don't worry, he found plenty of suitable empty pastures to practise his favourite hobby! Though I think at this point he has moved beyond a hobbyist and is ready to play in professional leagues. He does this thing now where he jumps up a bit to gain momentum; I don't remember him doing this last winter. He's an entirely self-taught dog (in the art of snow diving) and I'm proud of him.

#crawling along #(* edit because the first sentence said 'today' but this was yesterday)#(i got distracted by my goat vs sheep studies last night and didn't have time to finish this post!)

1K notes · View notes

yeonzzzn · 6 days

Note

what would enha's (legal line) reaction be when you swallow their cum during the first bj you give them 😩

oh anon this is a good one!!!

✰ ✰ ✰ heeseung would be STUNNED. his pupils would be so blown out and he’d be panting trying to catch his breath. he’d have himself lifted up on his elbows, staring down at you between his legs as you swallow his load and stick your tongue out as far as it could go to show him how good of a girl you were for him. it would be so sexy to heeseung he could cum again on the spot just watching how your throat looked as his cum went down, “fuck that was hot.”

✰ ✰ ✰ jay…that man…the man he is…he would smirk so wide as his fingers grip tighter in your hair. “that was so sexy, babe.” he’d whisper and would want nothing more than to feel your mouth wrapped around his cock again JUST to see you swallow his cum down again and again and again. it would drive him insane, truly. jay would burn the memory into his brain to remember when you weren’t with him. he’d think about it all the time and start to crave your mouth taking him until he was cumming down your throat.

✰ ✰ ✰ jake wouldn’t expect it. “i’m gonna c-cum, baby,” he’d whimper, expecting you to release his cock from your mouth and let him cum on you. like heeseung, jake would be so stunned when you keep going until his seed is filling your mouth. he’d moan as you slowly slide him out of your mouth, flattening your tongue against his shaft as you move up, collecting any cum that was escaping and swallow it the minute his tip was at your lips. jake would stare at you in full shock and the only words he could form would be: “please do it again.”

✰ ✰ ✰ sunghoon I feel would be like jay, homie would be smirking so hard, “stick that tongue out for me, princess, i wanna see,” and you’d obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. hoon would grip your chin with his fingers and press down your tongue with his thumb as he looked inside, his cock twitching at the sight of the inside of your mouth, remembering how you just felt wrapped around him, how your tight throat sucked him so fucking good and even swallowed his cum?? sunghoon was on cloud 9. sunghoon would 100% start jerking himself off to get fully hard again just for a round two.

✰ ✰ ✰ sunoo…our sunshine boy would be so out of as he stares down at you between his legs trying to process that everything just happened. you’d give his thighs a squeeze as you open your mouth and show him you swallowed it all. a switch would flip within sunoo, his shocked expression would turn so lustful, “my pretty princess swallowed all my cum, ya?” he’d cup your face and bring you closer to his, his breath denting goosebumps down your skin, “I want to see you do it again.” and of course you’d obey, how could you say no to the sun itself?

✰ ✰ ✰ jungwon would be going THROUGH it. he’d be so ready for round two after seeing the look on your face once his cum hits the back of your throat. his hands would be shaking against the couch cushions as you slid off him and swallowed every ounce of his load. his eyes would be so wide and debating on pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. jungwon would move his hands to your face so fast and push you back down onto him, “fuck I need to see you do it again, please baby.”

#yeonzzzn asks #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #jungwon #heeseung smut #park jay smut #sim jake smut #sunghoon smut #sunoo smut #jungwon smut #enhypen

922 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

starr-carter-xx

⭐️STARR⭐️

uniquefoodtrailer-blog

无标题

finishkitchencabinetsamv

Opus organic meat products both stock market rules

fable-judes-unstable-moods

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene

ashthedeadalien

Ashe