#I might come back to this part at some point

[d1xonss]

Practice Makes Perfect

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.9k

AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by annon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo

ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)

Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze. 

Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.

He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.

You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.

And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.

The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.

But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was. 

But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.

Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”

It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.

He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”

“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.

You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”

“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”

“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.

He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.

“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.

“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”

You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.

Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.

“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.

Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”

He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”

You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”

“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.

You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”

“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”

He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.

He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”

You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”

He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”

“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.

A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”

You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.

Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.

You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. 

Apparently, the conversation could get worse.

Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”

Oh for the love of God.

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.

“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.

A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.

“Shut up.”

Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”

“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.

He blinked, “No.”

You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.

You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”

His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”

“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.

He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.

His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted. 

But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired. 

Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.

You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.

His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.

“Is there someone you have feelings for?"

His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"

"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.

He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.

“Nah.” he said simply.

You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.

He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.

“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.

He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”

You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.

Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.

“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.

“Always.” you promised in return.

An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.

Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.

Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out. 

The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.

Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.

You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.

“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”

“Mhm.” you nodded.

He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”

Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.

You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.

So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”

He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”

“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.

“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.

Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.

On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.

Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.

He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.

But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.

Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.

“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.

You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.

“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond. 

You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go. 

The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.

“Daryl?”

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.

“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.

You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”

“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.

With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.

The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.

Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.

“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.

You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”

He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.

You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”

He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”

“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”

“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”

Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.

“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”

“I want to.”

Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.

“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.

You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”

He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.

Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”

He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”

With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.

Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground. 

He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.

Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.

He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”

“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”

Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.

In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.

His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.

You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.

Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”

He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.

“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”

Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.

“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.

The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.

You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”

He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.

“You wanna take that off for me?”

Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.

It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold. 

But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.

Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.

“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."

A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.

You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.

Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.

He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.

You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.

“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”

A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.

Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.

In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.

As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.

He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.

Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.

His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.

And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”

He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.

He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.

But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.

All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”

He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.

“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”

The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.

He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.

He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.

“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.

He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.

“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.

You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”

He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”

Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.

“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.

“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.

~ Thanks for reading!

[thewritetofreespeech]

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: your husband leaves for a hunting trip, but before he leaves he provides you with a gift to keep your fealty secure.

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), chastity belt [fictional c. belt usage, don't come for me], oral (female receiving), cowgirl, aemond is a meanie to his wife, but also a sweetie, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

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The bells seemed to have not stopped ringing for days now.

First, to herald the new prince, Maelor, into the world. Then to call his father home.

Aegon had overheard of the Baratheon tradition of going hunting before the birth of a child. Claiming a new stag and presenting the pelt to the mother, which he thought was a splendid tradition. The hunting, not the presents for the mother; although any excuse to get out of the castle was Aegon’s ultimate goal. He assembled some of the finest hunters he could find, or at least on such short notice, and sped off into some forest while his wife labored through the end of her pregnancy and had her toil finally ended in the wee hours of the morning.

You were happy for Helaena. To have her child here & health and her agony ended. But also, selfishly, that your own agony might be ended too.

Your husband had gone with hers. Aegon insisted that family should be involved in this new process he was creating, and made his brother come with him for the hunt. Aemond did not fight him too hard. He too would look for any excuse to leave the castle, particularly when his half-sister & her family were around, and enjoyed hunting like any man of arms might when the opportunity struck.

However, before the princes left your husband presented you with a gift that had turned your ill-planned parting into a tortuous affair.

“I still don’t see why any of this is necessary.”

Aemond paid you little mind as he fastened the last strap and locked it. Admiring his work as he sat back on his heels. “I feel that my fidelity is being called into question.”

“It is not your fidelity, dearest one.” He told you. Standing to his full height above you as he slipped the key into his pocket. “A beautiful woman, alone, for some days’ time without her husband. I am protecting you from those less virtuous than you.”

You frown and drop your skirts. “Oh please.” As if anyone would dare touch you, or even glance in your direction too long, with Aemond the Fierce as your husband. Even before your marriage he had managed to scare off any suitor or admirer that came near. Deciding that you would be his and he would not have competition on the matter. His jealousy had not gotten any better since you were married, but luckily you found it endearing; in an odd, Targaryen ‘take no prisoner’ kind of a way. “I will be with your sister most of the time anyway whilst you are gone. Unless you think her a threat now?”

Aemond smirked. “I don’t know. Helaena does have a weakness for the oddest, cutest things.” He leaned in to give you a kiss, which you return despite your sulking pout.

“How am I to relieve myself with this thing?”

“There is a small hole.”

“Charming.”

“The point is that you, nor anyone else, can relieve you.” His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Not until I get back.”

You frown at Aemond again. Once again feeling your fidelity was being called into question, but now also your virtue. “Please. You think I am some nymph unable to curb my baser instincts while my husband is away? That the moment you leave I’ll just start humping the couches like a dog.” The prince scoffed. Amused by your joke. “I will be fine Aemond. I am sure I can last a week without ‘relief’ as you put it.”

“See that you do.” He gave you another kiss. Longer this time and you kiss him back properly, without the pout, as you realize this was your goodbye kiss. “Tell Helaena to push out that babe sooner rather than later. I’d hate to have to miss you by the time it’s all said and done.”

That had been a tenday ago, and you had been eating your words since the sixth.

At first, it was fine. You were indeed busy tending to Helaena. Keeping her comfortable. Keeping her entertained. You had not yet known the joy of being with child, but from where you were sitting across from her it seemed not to bring the joy often described. Your situation did not get problematic until night fall.

Alone in your bed, you had trouble falling asleep that first night without Aemond beside you. His gentle breathing not at your back. Had your bed always been this big? The second night sleep came a little easier, though you still missed your husband. By the third night, you really missed him. You suddenly realized that since your marriage not more than three days had gone by without Aemond sliding to your side of the bed to lay with you. He was not the braggart like his brother or other more crude lords at court, but he was quite the vivacious lover; when properly motivated by affection and praise.

Now alone, you were suddenly aware of your body and how much it had changed since being with Aemond. How, in a way, he had conditioned you for him. Before it would have been no problem for you to go without such pleasures, but now you seem unable to make it not 3 days without touch. Coupled with the fact that you couldn’t do anything about it with the damned belt on you were all the more frustrated in your situation and desired nothing more than for Aemond to come home.

You watched as the gates opened and Aegon’s party rode in. The horses galloping to a halt before the procession stage. No dragons this time. Aegon said it would take the sport out of.

The newly anointed father leapt from his horse and bounded up the steps of the small stage to Helaena. His eyes & smile bright as he looked on his newest son, Aegon took Maelor from her arms gently to hold him for the first time. It was all rather endearing.

Your attention turned from the happy scene to the steps again as they creak under foot. Aemond’s tall, lean frame now in full view. You find it difficult to breathe all of a sudden. As if your chastity belt was suddenly wrapped all the way around you like a corset. You grip the arms of your chair tight to stay strong and stay still. Aware that you were still in public and in front of your family after all.

“Look brother! Look at my new son!” The second prince walked over to his brother to look upon their newest addition. Giving his new nephew the smallest hint of a smile as he looked down at him. Your core quaked violently.

“Congratulations brother. Well done, Helaena.” The princess smiled shyly at her brother, and their mother seemed pleased for once at this happy moment.

Aemond snapped and made some sort of gesture at a servant, who scurried up the steps and handed him some ivory pelts from a chest that Aemond then gave to Helaena. Foxes, perhaps. Or maybe rabbits. You couldn’t be sure which as your sister-in-law gushed over their softness and color while you smiled & nodded along. Your mind completely focused on Aemond. He was so close now. You could practically smell him. The iron. The leather. The sweat & sun from riding back this afternoon. You have to swallow to keep the drool pooling in your mouth from leaking out. You had to get out of here. You had to get out of this…thing!

“If you’ll excuse me, I must wash the road off and rest in a proper bed if I am expected to entertain later.” Aemond’s voice cut through your thoughts. As if he heard you.

“You do not wish to stay and see the babe?” Aegon asked. Holding his new son up with a look of ‘what could be better than this?’. You could think of a few things, but as a lady you held your tongue.

“He’s not going anywhere, is he?” Aemond jest. To which his mother rolled her eyes and he kissed Helaena on the cheek. “I will see him at the feast, I’m sure.” He turned and finally looked at you. You felt your heart stop and your skirts grow moist before he offered his hand to you. “Come wife.”

You take his hand, digits trembling almost as much as that first time you took it, and stand. You kiss Helaena’s cheek on the other side, wishing her congratulations again, before Aemond lead you off the stage and into the palace. Luckily, by fate or design, the procession meeting ground was near your apartments. So it was a quick walk before you were at your door. They open for you, and Aemond only let out a stern “get out” to the servants, who only have mere seconds to flurry away before you were on each other. Your lips crashing against Aemond’s along with the rest of your body as you back him into a corner against the door like you felt you had been backed into all week.

“Get this fucking thing off me.”

“My, my, such language.” Aemond was grinning maliciously, but pridefully, down at you. “I leave for just a week and my sweet wife’s lips turn into that of a Braavosi sailor.” You gasp, nearly pant, as Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. Seeming fascinated by them. As if they were some intricate puzzle for him. “Did you miss me, issa jorrāelagon?”

You whimper as the High Valyrian rolls off Aemond’s tongue. Your thighs shivering as at the thought of it and those delicious purrs between them again. “Yes. I did.”

He seemed pleased. “I missed you too.” He kissed you again. Slower, sweeter, deeper this time, rather than tongue & teeth. It was a good thing Aemond’s arms were securely wrapped around you as his kiss made you swoon. “I would think of you every night.” His lips brush against your lips, your cheek, your chin. His hands caressing you softly everywhere as you stared dimly up at Aemond. Drunk from him. “While Aegon and his pack rutted with their camp followers, I would go to my tent and think of you. Stroke my cock along with your key around my neck, think of you waiting for me, until I could no longer take it anymore.”

You whimper & whine at Aemond’s words. A part of you elated to have that effect on your husband, but part of you also extremely jealous. You had been forced to wait while he had not. That seemed entirely unfair and should be corrected immediately.

“Aemond…please. I’m tired of waiting. Please take this off me so I can be your wife again.”

Your prince smiled at you. Pressing you back now as you kiss this time towards the bed. You had intentionally worn the simplest dress you had to the arrival. Beautiful in design and beadwork, but nowhere near the detailing of lacings and ties most of court lady fashion had. All with the intention of Aemond being able to get it off you quickly, which he succeeded at, and lay you on the bed. “Hells. You look radiant.”

“Aemond please…” You beg again. Bosom heaving. Your skin on fire at even the briefest touch of his fingertips against your calf. Tingling in your nakedness in front of him, save for this accursed belt.

He took pity on you it seemed and opened his vest with a few quick snaps. Producing the key from around his neck. He still kept it there, it seemed. Aemond gave you a long look, as if holding on to this final, torturing moment with some perverse pleasure at your suffering, before he undid the lock and helped you out of your ties.

You moan, loudly, with your head tilted back as it finally came off. Release from the belt was almost as pleasurable as the full release you were surely about to receive. Your skin able to breathe fully. Your limbs one with themselves again. It was enough to make your head spin, only to be brought back to you when you felt Aemond spread your thighs and kneel before you.

“A-Aemond! Wait! I haven’t washed properly in---mph!” He doesn’t seem to care.

Though you had bathed regularly since your parting, the belt made it difficult to clean yourself fully. Trust in this, you had tried. Every angle. Every side. Every idea imaginable to get around this accursed thing, but to no avail. Aemond seemed unbothered by this as he devoured your cunt like a starved man. That skilled Valyrian silver teasing your clit. Making you squirm on the bed, to the point that Aemond had to hold your thighs apart to the point of bruises. Gods, you hoped for bruises. The shift from no attention to this sudden onslaught was enough to drive you to madness. Overstimulated, you cum quickly with a sharp cry. “Oh Gods…..!”

Aemond doesn’t leave you until your walls stop quaking around him, then he lifted slowly from between your legs. “Still sweet as ever, issa jorrāelagon.”

The prince stripped out of his clothes with a speed you did not think possible of their usually intricate clothing. You bit your lip. Core throbbing even though you had just climaxed at the sight of your husband. Lean form. Alabaster skin. Pure white save for the hard, blushing cock pointed out at you. “Aemond…”

He chuckled. Probably finding your lust blown eyes and subconscious spreading of your legs for him amusing. “So needy.” He was enjoying this. Enjoying tormenting you with his fine figure and devilish smirk. People often whispered about how cruel Aemond was. You never believed them. But perhaps you would have to amend your thinking on the topic as it was cruel to have him on offer now and still make you wait.

He crawled on to the bed and on top of you. Your lungs filling with air and releasing in a sigh as you feel his weight on top of you. How you had missed even this part. To be close to your prince. To have his presence mix with yours. Not just the sex, but the intimacy was something Aemond had trained your body to as well. You hope to never be parted from it again.

“I’m rather tired from the journey.” He whispered to you. Panick welling up in you as he stroked your hair & cheek sweetly. He wasn’t going to stop, was he? You would punch him in that beautiful face if he stopped now! No a judicator in the land would convict you. “So, you will have to do all the work this time, sweet one.”

He gripped your hips then and flipped you over. You yip at the sudden change in equilibrium, but then moan as you felt his hardness brush against your sex. The length of it perfectly aligned to slide between your folds. By fate or design you could not be sure, but what you were sure of was that you needed it inside you.

“Take from me what you want, issa jorrāelagon. Let me see your rapture now that I am home. You deserve it.”

You whine at Aemond’s words and kiss him desperately. As a thank you? Just the burning need to touch him?

You lift up and line his cock up properly with your entrance. The wetness from your sex and anticipation allowing him to slide in easily, and you moan like a whore at the feeling of him inside you again. “You have to move, issa jorrāelagon.” Aemond reminded you. His tone sweet and teasing. This spell he had on you working over your mind as you are unable to think, just obey, and start to move your hips.

Aemond watched you from below. His eye and sapphire fixed solely on you as you writhed in pleasure on top of him. Every bit the nymph you claimed not to be just a short while ago as your body and mind were lost to you in the sole pursuit of pleasure.

“Aemond..! Aemond…! So good!”

“I know, my love.” He must be close. The grit of his teeth, and the fact that he used your nickname in common instead of High Valyrian, his tell. “I’m close. Just a bit more.” You weren’t sure if you could last that long as you were suddenly bursting all around. Body shaking. Gasping for air. Luckily, it seemed just enough for Aemond and his hips arched up to push deeper inside you as he spilled his seed.

You collapse on top of your husband. Sweaty, wanton, spent. Aemond, for his part, seemed to catch his breath rather quickly and flipped you back over. “What are you doing?”

“Truly you did not think that would be the only time I had you.” You cry out when Aemond thrust his still hard cock into your sensitive sex. “We have near a week to make up for.”

It was much later in the afternoon by the time Aemond felt he had properly ‘balanced the scales’. Your body was exhausted, but content. Laying with your husband in the afterglow, and your ruined bed, a tonic for your soul you didn’t know you needed. “I have a gift for you.”

“Another one?” You tease your prince, who smiled and untangled himself from you to go over to a chest you hadn’t realized was in the room. You recognize it though as the chest the servant had brought to Aemond at his command when he presented the pelts to his sister.

“I caught this one when I was out on my own. Aegon & his troupe were off to the east with their wine and crossbows. I went west, as no quarry would come with their revelry. Seemed only fitting that since I found it on my own, my wife should have it.”

It was a pelt of pure onyx. Soft, but not nearly as soft as what Helaena had gotten earlier. This was the pelt of a beast, not prey. “Aemond, it’s beautiful.” Your fingers sift through the fine hairs. Feeling the power of its former master almost transfer into your fingers. “Thank you.”

“I am glad you like it. Perhaps I shall have to find you a new one, in nine months.” You glance over at Aemond out of the corner of your eye. Quick to understand his meaning. Quick to realize that Aemond wants his own son now that he’s seen Aegon with his second.

“Perhaps.” Time would only tell. You move your beautiful new fur to the side and crawl into Aemond’s waiting lap. “But if you leave me here for a week while I suffer alone, I will kill you. Do you hear me?”

Aemond laughed in the face of his own danger. “No. I would never leave you. This tryst was amusing, but I will be damned before I follow a Baratheon’s tradition before our own.” He lifted your hand and kissed it softly. “Our kin will have dragon eggs in their beds, not pelts.”

“Good.” You agreed and kissed him fully.

You make love again. Slowly, intimately this time. The kind of joining you both hope brings children. You would have to bathe and get dressed for the welcoming feast later that evening. Aegon’s welcome home and Maelor’s official presentation, along with all the spoils the men had caught on their hunt. But for now, it would just be you and Aemond. Enjoying each other and being back in one another’s arms.

Your last present though mysteriously vanishes. You have no idea where the belt went to, or what was done with it. Aemond had no answers. But you have a sinking suspicion it was moved somewhere for safe keeping; lest you find it and burn it, as was your threat long after.

[dipperscavern]

The brain worms have brain wormed once more, my friend. Tonight, they writhe for Cregan Stark. As do I but that's not the point.

I am a firm believer Cregan has a corruption kink. Something about his sweet, blushing bride, and her timidness when it comes time to consummate the wedding just makes him want to howl at the moon. Doesn't matter if you're always shy and submissive after that or if it was just for your first time, he looooves to see you blush and whimper and plead for him to be gentler, that you can't take it, that it's too much.

Maybe after some time together, you throw in some roleplay. The blushing bride and the big bad wolf. Sounds like a shitty porno honestly. You're so sweet and soft and shy, and he just wants to ruin you and make you cry.

God, the things I would do to this man and let him do to me.

-chonky anon.

P.S. I think Robb might also be into corruption but moreso pretending to be the one getting corrupted. Idk, I can feel it in my ovaries. Something about virgin!Robb just speaks to me. And my coochie.

CORRERERRRRRREEUPTION KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

when it comes to cregan & kinks like this, he’s so ashamed that he feels that way. but no where near ashamed enough. he’s so close to feeling guilty about it, but he can’t help himself in the satisfaction he feels knowing he’s ruining you. knowing he’s making you feel so good you’ll never be able to go back to the way you were.

and the trust you put in him drives him crazy. sorry, it drives him up the walls and around the corner. it’s part of that more domestic-vibe he loves, and you (accidentally) feed into it by submitting yourself to him during those few times you were getting a grip on ‘the act’ (or, if you’re the submissive type, then indefinitely. but even if you’re not, he still has the corruption kink) (don’t make me elborate) (or do, this is a democracy). showing that trust when he’s sliding in for the first time (or the second, he takes a while to get used to), mumbling something about how it’s too much. how you can’t take it, and he just presses a kiss to anywhere he can reach n reassures “You can.” (because you can. you aren’t pulling away, you’re just unsure. cregan knows what you need)

AND ROBB BEING ON THE RECEIVING END OF IT.

you being the one to take robb’s virginity, and now you both are certified fuck buddies. you’re so good and so gorgeous it’s all he can think about. spotting you around the castle, in the most innocent of settings, even, and his mind is plagued by thoughts most unbecoming of a prince. and he loves it.

[thunderbump]

Lesson in Labor

Disclaimer: Hi everyone i know i posted one story and vanished but life got busy. I kinda through this one together but if people like it might make a part two. Enjoy :)

Mrs. Thompson stood at the front of her classroom, hands resting lightly on her enormous belly, a practiced habit she’d developed over the last few months. At eight and a half months pregnant, she looked ready to pop any day now. In truth, she’d started showing early, much earlier than anyone expected. By the end of her first trimester, her small frame had begun to round out, her baby bump impossible to hide from the students who whispered excitedly among themselves.

"Mrs. T is gonna have her baby any day now!" one of them had said during lunch last week. The class laughed, but Mrs. Thompson smiled politely, brushing off the comment. Little did they know how right they were.

As she continued her lesson, explaining the intricacies of Shakespeare's *Macbeth*, a sudden, sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She flinched but quickly disguised it as a cough. Her eyes darted toward the clock. It was only 10:15 AM. An hour had already passed, the day would be over in no time. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

Taking a deep breath, Mrs. Thompson continued speaking, but her words came out more strained now. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to ease the building pressure that was quickly becoming difficult to ignore. Another contraction rippled through her, stronger this time, and her free hand gripped the desk behind her.

"Are you okay, Mrs. T?" a student in the front row asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I’m fine, Jamie. Just a little...tired," she said, trying to smile through the discomfort. She wasn't about to admit that she was, in fact, having contractions. There was no way she was going to give birth in the middle of her classroom. Not in front of her students.

But her belly—round and large, the size of a beach ball under her flowing dress—was tightening again. She felt the unmistakable, rhythmic tightening, and she knew deep down that this wasn’t just some random Braxton Hicks. This was the real thing. Her baby was coming.

She glanced at the classroom door. She could make an excuse and leave. But then what? Her classroom was on the second floor, and the teachers’ lounge, where her phone sat, was all the way at the other end of the building. The idea of walking that far in her condition made her wince. Besides, if she suddenly bolted for the door, she’d draw attention. The last thing she wanted was to cause a scene.

“Now, can anyone explain Lady Macbeth’s role in the murder of Duncan?” she asked, her voice tight as another contraction hit. She bent slightly at the waist, hoping the class wouldn’t notice. Her enormous belly was pulling her forward, making her feel heavy, slow, and increasingly uncomfortable.

A few students raised their hands, but Mrs. Thompson’s focus was rapidly dwindling. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, and she wiped it away quickly, trying to maintain her composure. The pressure in her belly grew more intense, and she couldn’t help but place both hands on her stomach, feeling the strong kick of her baby—who was apparently eager to make an entrance.

"Uh, okay, Melissa, go ahead," she said, pointing to one of the students, her voice wavering.

As Melissa rambled on about the play, Mrs. Thompson barely heard a word. She was too busy counting in her head, timing the contractions. Five minutes apart. Maybe a little less. She swallowed hard, determined to make it through the next hour until lunch.

The next contraction came hard, and Mrs. Thompson had to turn her back to the class, pretending to adjust something on the board. Her breath caught in her throat, and she gripped the edge of the chalk tray for support. She was huge now, her belly straining against her dress, every movement reminding her of how close she was. Her students couldn’t know. They’d freak out, and she refused to be remembered as the teacher who went into labor during *Macbeth*.

But her body had other plans. She felt a deep pressure low in her abdomen, a sign she couldn’t ignore any longer. Time was running out.

She straightened up and turned back to the class, plastering on a smile she hoped looked convincing. “Class,” she said, her voice slightly higher than usual, “I think I need to step out for a moment. You can work on your study guides for the next ten minutes.”

She barely waited for them to respond before making her way, carefully and slowly, to the door. The moment she stepped into the hallway, her face crumpled with relief. She leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Her water hadn’t broken yet, but she knew it wouldn’t be long. The contractions were relentless now, and her belly, huge and tight, seemed to be doing all the work of pushing her forward, one excruciating step at a time.

Each step was agony, and by the time she reached the teachers’ lounge, she was panting, her face pale and clammy. She managed to grab her phone, dialing her husband’s number with trembling hands.

“David, it’s happening,” she gasped, sinking into a chair as another contraction hit, “I tried to hide it, but…I think the baby’s coming now.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line before her husband replied, “I’m on my way. Hang in there.”

Mrs. Thompson hung up and sat back, rubbing her enormous belly. She glanced out the window, knowing she was about to meet the little one she had been carrying for so long. But first, she had to make it through labor—hopefully, without causing too much chaos in the school.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Interruption | Part 04

-> Pairing: mafia husband!Kim Hongjoong x mafia wife!Reader

-> Sypnosis: Things go to hell for Y/N.

-> Warnings: mafia au. Italics are flashbacks. the other korea is mentioned. talks of being a spy. alludes to someone being told to kill themselves. guns. someone gets shot (but spoiler: they don't die).

-> Word Count: 1487

-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the taglist form.

Interruption Masterlist | Hongjoong Masterlist | Tag List Form

As they make their way to the restaurant, Y/N flips through the folder that Wooyoung had given her earlier. “Ha-Na’s mother isn’t blameless in all of this,” she remarks, her eyes scanning the pages before she passes them to Hongjoong. Several sheets are filled with old photographs and documents related to the woman and her daughter. The folder starts to feel like a ticking time bomb, each page a revealing something that could unravel the carefully constructed facade Ha-Na’s and her mother, Ahn Soo-Ah have created for themselves. “She was troubled well before she got involved with Mun and my father.”  

She pauses when she sees the face of the man who had tormented her mother after her father abandoned them. His cold, calculating gaze seems to pierce through her, rekindling the rage she felt the last time she encountered him. Her fists tighten as she realizes that this woman not only played a part in her father leaving but also in the hell that ensued afterwards.  

“Ha-Na and her mother have no clue who they’re up against,” she mutters, mostly to herself, but Hongjoong nods in agreement. He’s seen firsthand the consequences of someone pushing his wife too far and feels no sympathy for anyone who might provoke her. 

“We need to be more careful this time,” Hongjoong advises her. “This isn’t just about someone trying to take over our empire. It’s much more personal than that,” he says taking the folder from her.  

Y/N pulls out her phone and calls Yunho. The man picks up immediately. "We're on our way," he informs her.  

"I need to know if you found anything about my father?" she asks.  

"I was just about to send you his details and address," he replies. “You should also know Ha-Na's mother is with him.”  

"Forward it to some of our men and have them bring them to Mun's restaurant," she instructs. "Make sure to warn them that if they try anything, they'll be dead the moment they step through those doors." 

With that she ends the call as they pull up outside the restaurant. 

“Sorry, my mother couldn’t make it. She was murdered not long after our father left her, but you already know that,” Y/N glances at her father and doesn’t find an ounce of remorse but she can see the fear in them. “Now sit,” she orders all of them. San forces her father to sit down as Soo-Ah quickly sits in the chair next to him, feigning being terrified.  

“You too, Ha-Na,” she says waving her gun at her before pointing it at her mother. “I don’t want to kill her before you hear what I have to say.” 

Wooyoung comes closer, snatching the gun from Ha-Na, glaring at her and forces her into the chair next to her mother. With the gun pointed at her mother, Ha-Na abides and doesn’t make a fuss. Now that Soo-Ah was brought into it, Ha-Na calmed and the situation became more controllable. It was all the proof she needed to know that the woman who had broken her family is her half-sister's weakness. 

“Do you know why your mother stayed with Mun and our dear father had to wait all those years to be with her?” she questions Ha-Na, leaning in closer to her. “I’m sure you do since you’re all in this together,” she says waiting for Ha-Na to reply. The younger woman shakes her head but her quick glance towards her mother tells Y/N that she’s lying. “That’s what I thought. You two are close right?” she asks looking between the two women. They both nod. “That must be nice,” she mutters and steps back from them while Yeosang hands her the folder she’d been going through earlier. She opens it and drops it, its contents spilling on to the table, showing photos of a younger version of Soo-Ah, with a man dressed in military gear. Some of the photos she has a large belly, and some of them have her with a baby.  

Y/N observes as Soo-Ah's fake look of fright, turns into one of anger showing where Ha-Na gets her terrible acting skills from. 

“You didn’t think I would find out that you were enlisted as a spy?” She taunts. “Or that Ahn Soo-Ah is not your real name? Ri Mi-Rae.” 

Upon hearing her real name, Soo-Ah's face darkens. If looks could kill, Y/N would be six feet under. The atmosphere shifts, the air thick with unspoken threats. Hongjoong steps closer to Y/N, sensing the tension. He places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but his eyes remain fixed on Soo-Ah. 

Soo-Ah hisses, her voice low and dangerous, "You have no idea what you're dealing with." 

"I know exactly what I'm dealing with, Ri Mi-Rae,” Y/N straightens, her resolve hardening. “You’re nothing but a con-woman who leaves destruction everywhere she goes. I’m truly surprised the North hasn’t caught up with you, yet. Maybe I should send you back myself.” 

“She would rather kill herself, than go back there,” Ha-Na retorts, while their father continues to sit there scared for their lives. 

“Should we test that?” Y/N says, taking a gun and handing it towards Mi-Rae only when everyone of her mens guns were pointed at her. “Try anything and they’ll end you quicker than you can blink. Now go on, prove your daughter right,” she urges, her tone a mix of challenge and provocation. 

Mi-Rae's eyes flickered to the gun, then back to Y/N. With her head held high, she silently refuses to take the gun. "You think you can intimidate me?" Mi-Rae finally spoke, her voice steady. "You have no idea what I’ve survived, what I’ve done to stay alive. You, little girl, don’t scare me. I’ve faced worse than you."  

Y/N's grip on the gun tightens, her resolve unyielding. "This isn't about fear. It's about choices you’ve made and how you’ve involved me in them,” she says her voice rising. Aiming the gun at Ha-Na while keeping her eyes locked on Mi-Rae, she pulls the trigger, ending Ha-Na’s life in an instant. "That was for my mother." 

Mi-Rae looks at her a mix of shock and fury in her eyes. Ha-Na's body crumples to the ground, lifeless, letting Mi-Rae and her father, Ha-Joon know that she is no longer playing around.  

Ha-Joon, filled with fear and confusion as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him, finally finds his voice. "You're a monster."  

"Is that so? And who do you think turned me into this, father?" Y/N retorts, allowing her emotions to spill over towards the man who had abandoned her all those years ago. Just hearing his voice brought back memories long forgotten about and she was transported back to being that little girl, lost and alone. 

Seizing the moment of distraction, Mi-Rae quickly grabs a gun and fires shots as she dashes out towards the back.  

"Get her!" Y/N yells at her men as they duck for cover. Four of them make chase after Mi-Rae as she looks around to make sure no one was hit. 

That's when her eyes land on her husband, bleeding from his chest and gasping for air. Her heart sinks into her stomach as she hurries to his side, and covers his wound with her hands trying to stop the bleeding as she yells at the others to help. Tears began to sting her eyes as she felt the warmth of his blood seep through her fingers.  

"Stay with me," she begs, her voice shaking as panic grips her throat. She has never felt this terrified in her entire life. 

"Y/N," Hongjoong's voice emerged weak and raspy as he lifted a hand to gently caress her cheek. "You need to get out of here. This isn’t safe for you." His eyes, usually so full of life, were clouded with pain, and Y/N could see the flicker of fear in them, not for himself, but for her.  

"I won’t leave you," she cries, her heart racing as she presses harder against the wound, trying to will the blood to stop flowing.  

"Y/N, listen to me," he gasped, his breath coming in shallow bursts. He winced, his hand slipping from her cheek to grip her wrist, his fingers trembling just as badly as hers. "I love you, Y/N. No matter what happens, remember that." His eyes locked onto hers, he calls for Wooyoung, “Get her out of here.” 

Before anything more could be said, San pushes his way in, replacing Y/N’s hands with his own as Wooyoung pulls her up and rushes her out of the building before she has time to process what’s happening. 

As she sits in the car with Wooyoung at the wheel, a chilling numbness envelopes the Mafia Queen’s body. Her voice, icy and determined, sends shivers down Wooyoung's spine as she declares, "I’m going to kill all of them. Her and everyone she cares about is dead." 

@do-you-remember-summer-127 - @staytiny2000 - @rainydayteacups - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse -

@alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson -

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@keshivibes - @katsukis1wife - @jjoongstar - @arki-sha - @forever-atiny -

@lixisoul99

[writers-potion]

Hi! How do I write a mafia novel?

How To Write A Mafia Novel

The term “mafia novel” makes me think of a few possibilities here. It could be (1) an action-thriller where our hero is either fighting the mafia or is a part of the mafia or (2) a mafia romance novel, where the love interest(s) come from rich mafia backgrounds.

If you’re writing an action/adventure story where mafia are the bad guys:

They need to have a cause – a twisted one. No matter how bloodthirsty these mafias might be, no one works so hard for fun. 

They’re struggling financially. This is a great motive for the bad guys to attack the hero, or use more cruel methods than usual. 

The ones who are going against the mafia would be independent investigative agencies or the Federal Bureau of Investigation, not your typical cop or police. 

They’re allied with other crime groups, even with some backdoor government organizations. I don’t think the depiction of mafia groups as a self-sufficing group always exchanging insults with other groups in inaccurate. Also, this raises the story stakes when your back guys combine with other bad guys to get back at the hero.  

They can’t be threatened with just an incriminating recording or photo, especially if they’re obtained illegally – which means they’re unlikely to have power as evidence.

Mafia leaders realistically won’t force their children to take over – in fact, they’ll want to keep their family out of it altogether. 

If you’re writing an action/adventure story where mafia are the good guys:

Give them a motto that gives them a cause for the higher good. Like ‘manners maketh men’ in the Kingsmen movies. In a loose sense, the Kingsmen are mafia too – they’re a secret society with lots of money, etc. 

A running theme would be that you can afford to use questionable methods as long as the outcomes are good. The mafia would kill, steal, imprison and murder – but they always have a convincing reason. Plus, the bad guys are doing a lot worse. 

The mafia organization is flawed in a critical way. This can be anything – a newbie who starts to question the mafia’s practices, or a corrupt leader, etc. This flaw will cripple this apparently sturdy organization at the end of Act II, raising the stake sky high. 

Give them secret codes, special weapons, a quirky dress code, a tattoo? 

Show how the mafia are tightly networked among themselves, often in a good way. The senior mafia mentoring the newbies, colleagues struggling through their probation periods together, etc. The mafia are a tight-knit organization. 

For a mafia romance, what the mafia really does or how they’re structured, etc. isn’t that important. As long as you get the black suits, expensive Jaguars, and exclusive clubs/hotels vibe right, you have enough mafia worldbuilding. What’s important are the characters. 

If you’re writing a male mafia love interest:

They’re high-ranking, filthy rich, intelligent, and cold-minded individuals who are powerful beyond your usual realm of rationality. The absolute unrealness of these sexy competent men is what’s appealing. 

The mafia background becomes the “hurtful dark backstory”. One of the main selling points of dark mafia love interests is that on the inside, they’re fractured puppies in need of some sunshine to soften up. Give them a good reason why they’re assholes to your female love interest in the beginning. They’re repressed – high time.

They must be able to draw a line between being adorably overprotective and unreasonably controlling. The same goes for their use of violence. Sure, a male mafia love interest may kill that stalker who’s been bugging our heroine but don’t have him putting bullets in the heads of people who just mildly irritate him – that’s a huge turnoff. 

If you’re writing a female mafia love interest:

Your heroine is a clear-minded, physically fit, confident, and competitive mafia queen/princess with both eyes fixed on power and success – until the male love interest comes along, either as an enemy mafia or a clueless softball. 

Alternatively, they’re oppressed by their father/brother(s) who are hard-core, bloodless men. These heroines are capable in ways that are not approved by their mafia family (like a career in social services or running a bakery, whatever) and need someone to understand and remove them from their toxic family – our male love interest. 

Again, feel free to use the mafia background as a source for some juicy, traumatizing backstory.

Hope this helps :) 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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[loverslodge]

Glitch

summery: you is a broken mutant and Bucky is very adamant to protect her

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warning: experiments, violence, ptsd, angst, fluff

A/N: finally a bucky baby romance. love him so much i want to cuddle him to death.

You didn't know how to react. You were kissing Bucky Barnes and you didn't know how to react. This was not the way you thought kissing Bucky Barnes for the first time would go.

You joined the team over two years ago. You weren't an agent, you were a lab rat. Well, a lab rat is a harsh way of putting things. You had somehow gained some sort of superpowers. You were attacked during the Ultron takeover and something burst near you that gave you just enough powers that could make you glitch. Many glitches later, you determined that it was the panicked adrenaline that set off the glitches and once you calmed down, everything was ‘normal’. Someone must have found out about you after years so SHIELD came to you. They basically kidnapped you and shoved you in their labs.

You met The Avengers. The new recruits as well. Including the famed Winter Soldier. You have seen him work, when he was under control. Actually, they had exchanged conversations. He did save you from an enemy, the one he was supposed to assassinate. But he was beat so you had nursed him. You had left the next day, you were on the run after all. And now, here you were again, meeting him. He didn't remember you and why would he? You were nobody with whom he shared a passionate kiss as Winter Soldier. He made her a promise that he'll come back for you but you knew you weren't going to see each other again.

He stood on the other side of the glass and was talking to Captain America and Iron Man about something. He kept on glancing and pointing at you. You also saw the Eye Patch Man join the discussion. Winter Soldier was getting angry, frustrated maybe, you couldn't really tell. Captain America put a hand on his shoulder and patted his back. He huffed in frustration and left the room.

Bucky saw the state you were in. none of the avengers were allowed in that facility till two years later. He was shocked to see you, a person, like him, treated like a lab rat just like he was. Something about you seemed familiar but he couldn't put a finger on it. He got angry. They told him she was going to be part of the team and yet she was trapped in a glass cage for everyone to look at. She had wires attached to her. She seemed unbothered, unfeeling even. It broke him a little, to see you give up. He used to be like this, then he got friends and they helped but you had nobody. He had Steve. He argued with Tony and Fury but they said you needed more time. He knew what that meant. They were willing to keep you in there till they had control over you. He didn't like that. All of them walked in the conference room where the rest were. They all put out points. Wanda saw his point and agreed, so did Natasha. They finally agreed to have her roam free in the compound but she would be engaged in the lab with Banner. She would be his helping hand and might also be part of experiments that will help her. They explained to Bucky why you needed to be experimented on. You had become part mutant which was not good for you. Either they can help you be a complete mutant or take away the powers and turn you human. Till they find the root of it all, they couldn't even give you options. Bucky agreed. He just wanted you not tied to the wires.

You got your own room. To your right was Wanda, to your left was Natasha and across you was a huge room of Winter Soldier, whom you now know as Bucky Barnes. You were introduced to almost everyone. Others later, once they came back from their missions. They were so nice to you. Especially Wanda and Natasha. But you knew, they had you close because they were supposed to watch you. Make sure you dont glitch on the compound and if you do, drag you straight to the labs. Sleep was evasive. You would wake up glitching because of nightmares. You would not sleep with water because it gave you a reason to walk to the kitchen and settle your glitch. Every night you would meet Bucky there. You didn't talk but both of you shared a silence. He kept your glitches a secret from Fury. and that made you want to look for a solution even harder. You didn't want him to be in trouble because you were sure it was because of him you roamed free.

You avoided Tony’s parties. But your window provided enough entertainment of these parties. You would gaze down and see people buzzing. Sometimes you had tears in your eyes and sometimes you glitched. Bucky knew you were watching. It was obvious. He felt eyes on him and he could hear your little squeaks when he looked up at your window. He liked having you around but he didnt know how to help. So he would stay silent. He followed your schedule. He knew you had nightmares. He also knew you liked to go to the kitchen to grab water because it took your mind off. He started to wait for you. The moment he would hear your door lock after you after you returned from the kitchen, he would go back to sleep as well. He wanted to keep you safe, he doesn't know why.

It was the Fourth of July. It was also Captain Rogers’ birthday. You loved to make small desserts so you thought this was a good time of showing the team that you were grateful for inclusion. You gave the first piece to Steve and he very graciously accepted. He loved it so much he asked you to bake some more for him whenever you had time. You blushed. He nodded vigorously and bumped into Bucky. He insisted you call him that. You offered him your dessert. He didn't have to say he liked it, his face and eyes talked for him. You felt your heartbeat rise and you ducked away from them, yelling ‘happy birthday steve’. That was the loudest he had heard you. He loved your smile. He loved your voice. Even though none of it was directed to him, he still soaked them in.

You started to open up more. Not a lot, just enough for people to interact more casually with you. You started to spend more time in the kitchen. It started relaxing you. You did glitch sometimes, if startled, but over all, you were getting ‘better’. Dr. Banner had taken your blood samples and had been working on reconstructing your cells. He said something about broken threads needing to be sewed but you wouldnt understand. You were more of a stenographer in the lab, everything Banner said was written down. You were happier, more relaxed. Even tried to step outside the compound once but someone saw you glitch and you ran back to your room. You spent more time with Bucky too. He said he could train you and you had said yes. Twice a week was your schedule with him. He would make sure you both were alone in the gym and so, even if you glitched, he would be there to calm you. His presence did that to you. Calmed you so much that even the tiniest glitch disappeared. Just like it did when he had kissed you way back.

There was a part of this though. You were very scared of fireworks. It reminded you of your lonely years and attacks. You had been dealing well because New York had been protected by The Avengers. You rarely hear fireworks too. Just during the New Years this year but they were muffled because FRIDAY had turned on sound blockers after seeing you flinch, glitch and shiver.

The celebrations began. You were in your room again, looking down the window. Your eyes were following Bucky. Again. He was enjoying his drink with Steve and Sam. he glanced up and you squeaked and slid down to hide. You still weren't aware that people couldn't see you from down there but Bucky loved it. He loved that your eyes followed him everywhere. But then he heard Tony say that he had bought shit-ton of fireworks this year to celebrate Steve. He tensed. He weaved his way to your room. You were unaware of this blasting development and gazed down at the people. Bucky knew you feared fireworks. FRIDAY told him after the first time. He was vigilant and made sure nothing startled you but he would always startle you. He was very stealthy after all.

He was seconds away from your room when the fireworks started. You jumped and glitched and screamed. He heard you. He ran. He asked FRIDAY to open your door. He saw you glitching and quivering under your blanket. He rushed in. He held you tight and covered your ears. The sound blockers were not working. You grabbed his shirt. You think you tore it a little but it didn't matter. You were holding onto him for your dear life. You were hyperventilating.

“Can't… breathe…” you huffed, trying to regain your pulse.

“Breath with me, y/n. Here, feel me. See, I am breathing well, yes?” he tore off his shirt and placed your palm on his heart. It did calm you a little but not enough. You tried to concentrate on his breathing but the loud fireworks riled you up even more.

He had read that stopping someone’s breathing for a few seconds would help with hyperventilation. He could choke you but you were a blubbering mess and he didn't want to leave marks saying he tried to kill you to save you. So he did the only logic that spun in his head. He pressed his lips against your. His hands were cupping your face and his lips firmly against yours. He felt your breath hitching to a stop and he sighed. He held for a few more seconds to actually feel your body relax against his. But something unexpected happened. Your lips moved against his. Now his breath hitched. You were kissing him. You angled your head for better access and he registered that. He immediately pulled you on his lap and moved his lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue went right in. you moaned. The familiar feeling of kissing him was back and you didn't want to let him go. Your hand moved from his chest to his neck, pulling him closer. His hand held your waist tightly against himself and the other cupped the back of your neck.

Suddenly he was transported to his Winter Soldier days. One day to be very specific where he had almost become Bucky just because he shared a heated moment with a girl. That familiar touch, that moan and those lips. They were the same. He latched onto you even further. He remembered you. He went back to look for you but you were long gone. Then shit went down and he came back to be Steve’s best friend. He had forgotten about you, almost, till this very moment. He cradled your head and tried to pull back to let you breath but you caught his lips again. As if you were thirsty. He chuckled and started caressing your head. He slowed down the pace of the kiss and you calmed down. You slowly pulled away and looked down. Your face was on fire. The fireworks had died down.

He cupped your face and tilted it to make you look at him. “It was you, the one who almost pulled me out of my insanity. I have you back in my arms.” he sighed and kissed your forehead. “Are you okay? I will talk to Tony to not schedule updates on fireworks days.”

“I thought you didn't remember me.” your voice came in whispers. “I'm okay. Now. I didn't mean to pull you away from Steve’s party. I, uh, waited for you. A bit. Back then. But I had to run.”

“You didn't pull me away from anywhere, doll. I came to you myself. I always found you familiar but it was your kiss that reminded me that you were the one I had lost back then. Now you wont run, will you?” He asked, looking at you. You shook your head and he pulled you to his chest. You could hear his heartbeat clearly. You breathed deep. You were exhausted after the episode.

“Let’s get you to bed.” he stood up and carried you to his room. Your blanket was still wrapped around you. He lowered you down on his mattress and went to change out his clothes. You nestled deeper into his bed and tried to keep your eyes open. He trudged back in the room and got in bed beside you. Your arms immediately went for him and he let you pull him to you.

“You will not let me go again, will you?” you asked softly.

“Never. You are holding on to me forever.” he wrapped his arms around you and you both snuggle to sleep.

[kopfkino-o]

it's been a minute since i did some theory rambling and i've got a long train ride ahead of me so let's get at it! this is more of a general elain post but there is some pro elriel thinking sprinkled in. thanks for reading!!

was Elain blessed by the Mother so she might cure the corrupted Cauldron? are there two primordial forces warring within it? does Elain have the power of Life? bear with me while i ramble about all this.

warning: the following thoughts probably aren't cohesive lol.

okay but does anyone else think that there's a small part of the Mother, the original creator, left within the Cauldron and that's what recognized and loved Elain? Like a part of me thinks that some aspect of the Mother remains locked away or maybe weakened by what the Asteri did to the Cauldron that recognized the inherent goodness in Elain and that's why she was "blessed."

What if the last lingering ember of the Mother's will recognized Elain's gentle heart, her brave soul, and gifted her with the power to break the corruption and restore the order of things?

"Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there." - ACOSF, as told from Nesta's point of view.

SARAH, GIRL I SEE YOU!!!

We know that Elain is associated with roses from the description of her drawer, her love of gardening, from Feyre telling us that Elain would trim the roses without gloves and get thorns in her hands, amongst other associations. Nesta placing a symbol associated with Elain next to this primordial goddess figurine, PERHAPS EVEN THE MOTHER HERSELF, feels just so...prophetic. It's like Nesta is almost passing the mantle of being the storyteller or the FMC on to Elain. And maybe even hinting at what's to come.

BLESSID. BELOVED. BENEVOLENT.

Okay. So back to the Cauldron, the Mother, all that. We know Nesta took something from the Cauldron (but this is a post for another day) and that Elain was given something. We know that Elain is a seer, blessed with the gift of foresight and clairvoyance, though we don't exactly know what the innerworkings of this sort of magic are.

But what if Sight wasn't the only gift Elain was given?

My theory is that Elain was given the gift of Life by the remaining aspect of the Mother to counter/compliment the power of Death Nesta stole from the corrupted aspect of the Cauldron--or the power of the Asteri, which I think might also be the power of Deanna from the Throne of Glass World (but again, that's a post for another day). And I can't help but think that, for the gentler grower of things, this theorized "Life magic" would manifest in the form of earth/soil/plant manipulation. We saw this in HOFAS with the official introduction of earth based magic and it has me thinking!!

And with that thinking, I'm wondering if the lingering essence of the Mother might have blessed Elain with these powers in the hopes that she would be able to master them, in the same way the Nesta mastered the power she claimed, and help finally banish the corruption from the force of the Cauldron. I've got a little headcanon that all three sisters will have some role in this but it needs to stew a bit more lol. And what if Elain's bond has some roll in all of this?

A THREAD TIDED TO A RIB

I don't want to speak for everyone, but to me there's something off about Lucien and Elain's bond. He is able to live far away from her with seemingly no issue. She shrinks into herself when he's around. Lucien just seems...sad whenever the bond is mentioned. Could this be the result of the same awkward/push-pull tension that we saw between Nessian and Feysand? Maybe.

But what if it's because SJM Is using them to show us what a "Cauldron-given bond" looks like? Rhys theorizes about the bonds in ACOWAR and brings up a very interesting comment:

"There is choice. And sometimes, yes—the bond picks poorly. Sometimes, the bond is nothing more than some … preordained guesswork at who will provide the strongest offspring. At its basest level, it’s perhaps only that. Some natural function, not an indication of true, paired souls.” A smile at me—at the rareness, perhaps, of what we had. “Even so,” Rhys went on, “there will always be a … tug. For the females, it is usually easier to ignore, but the males … It can drive them mad. It is their burden to fight through, but some believe they are entitled to the female. Even after the bond is rejected, they see her as belonging to them. Sometimes they return to challenge the male she chooses for herself. Sometimes it ends in death. It is savage, and it is ugly, and it mercifully does not happen often, but … Many mated pairs will try to make it work, believing the Cauldron selected them for a reason. Only years later will they realize that perhaps the pairing was not ideal in spirit.”

IM SORRY BUT IS THAT NOT SARAH SCREAMING AT US?

Sometimes the bond picks poorly! She gives us TWO examples of this with Rhys's and Tam's parents. Two bonds that I think were CAULDRON GIVEN bonds. Then, as a foil to this, she gives us Nessian and Feysand. Vivienne and Kallias. Three bonds gifted by the Mother--the primordial being, the gentle creator of things. Could this be Silba from the TOG world? Kythona from Crescent City? Is she Wyrd? And could the Mother have given both Elain and Lucien other bonds--blessed bonds--that are currently being surpressed by the corrupted bonds bestowed on them by the Cauldron?

Personally (and especially after HOFAS) I think the Cauldron's corruption needs to be addressed. And I think Elain is the one to do it. Her entire character is steeped in themes of choice, fate vs freewill, destiny vs self-actualization, and gods, the set up for an AMAZING story is right there.

TO CLOSE THIS MADNESS OUT

I can't say what SJM will do in the end. But I can theorize based on the last few books and the foreshadowing she's lain. And for me, I see the angsty, unprecedented chosen love story she's building between Elain and Azriel with a rejected mating bond incorporated into the heart of their love story. Could she change the direction of her books and abandon this? Absolutely. But I think the story would be so much worse for it. The crumbs for something amazing are there. The crumbs for something that has the potential to be genre-defying is there. And based on what Sarah commented to the Times, I can't help but she's knows this and can't help but write it.

ok bye thanks for reading!! i'd love to talk more about this to anyone else who is down to yap! dms are always open.

[cupcakeslushie]

Any advice for someone who's going through art block?

Art block is so difficult, because I really think it’s down to each individual person finding what helps for them.

For me, I more often just try to power through. Because if I do stop to take a break, there’s a danger, where I know I’ll get stuck for weeks, just lazing about, not getting anything done. Then it’s really hard to get back in the swing of things. But this method of being stubborn, might be horrible advice for someone whose mental health really suffers from staying in that mindset of “failing, failing, failing”. Because that’s what it can feel like, when you’re not seeing the results you want. It can be very frustrating, and it either causes you to grow even more stuck, or it lights a fire in your ass to keep you going until you’ve forced it.

Both of these methods aren’t necessarily unhealthy or bad, but they simply work for you, or they don’t. And what helps, can often change based on your mindset and energy levels.

If powering through ever does fail me, (like it kinda has recently lol). Then, I’ll throw up my hands and accept that life is telling me to take a freaking break. In a week or two, I can come back when I’m rested and inspiration hits again. Because even I have points where I just have to listen to what my brain is telling me—despite the fact that all I want to do is be drawing nonstop lol.

Ill watch some tv, listen to some music, read, cook. Whatever is relaxing. And most of these things will provide me with enough chill vibes that I can jump back in when I’m ready!

It’s all about listening to yourself and knowing when to actually give your mind and body a break.

But, If you’re coming in well rested and bright-eyed, and the art block is still popping up, maybe it’s less art block, and more just your brain being slow to switch tasks. Do some warm up sketch exercises, get up and jump around to get your blood pumping. Browse your feeds for inspiration, but set an alarm to give yourself a certain amount of time so you don’t fall down the rabbit hole. Play some banging music to get your energy up. Staring at a blank, white canvas is hardly the proper kind of stimulating activity lol. You’ll rarely find any ideas that way.

There’s plenty of methods to handling art block. The real killer of it, is more when you let it pull you into this loop of self deprecation/sabotage that only gets worse the longer you sit in it. Art block isn’t failure on your part, it doesn’t need to be punished, or mean you’re lacking as an artist.

It’s an unavoidable part of the creative process, you learn how to handle it, and how to sail through it when it hits.

It’ll either blow over when it’s ready, or when you’ve developed a good strategy to hurry it along.

[jisatsuwaifu]

Life is incredibly frustrating, stressful, and exhausting. Everyday I think “it’s okay, it’ll get better, try again tomorrow” but it just keeps proving me wrong. When I think things are getting better and I can finally relax, something else comes along and puts me right back into panic mode. It’s always something, there’s never a break. I never feel safe. All I do is complain about how sad or frustrated I am and I’m sure everyone around me is sick of hearing it. Which is fine, I wouldn’t want to be surrounded by misery when my life is good either or listen to a broken record when there’s much better music to be heard. I am my own responsibility, I shouldn’t rely on others.

My thoughts consume me. Not in a cutesy I’m just a girl cringe kind of way but in a “I need to go to sleep as soon as possible to prevent an accident” because I cannot trust my own head to comfort me but to only make scenarios worse or feed into my paranoia. I am not built to be left alone. I constantly feel like I’m too much and not enough. I’ve never felt more loved but also so alone in all my life. Everything is black and white there is no grey areas with my mind.

I just don’t think anyone knows or understands how thin I’m being stretched and how badly I’d just love for everything to stop and to be able to catch my breath. Just for a day. I’ve cried for help but I don’t think the one person I need help from genuinely hears me. I dont trust many people to begin with. There’s only so much a single person can take before it starts to cripple them. And I know I can be over dramatic and too emotional at times but this genuinely feels like the end, I can’t see past this point in my life. And the sad part is I do not know how I got here. Or this far to begin with. But I am so tired. It’s times like these I wish I had my mom back or even just a family to lean on and seek advice from, but I can’t even entertain my own sister long enough to talk on the phone with me. I don’t understand why I exist or what my purpose is if all I’ve ever been exposed to is pain and abandonment. There’s some aspects of my life that I know I serve a purpose for and want to make proud, I’m trying my hardest for that one thing. I just don’t want to cause anymore damage than I already have. I can’t be like my mother.

I just needed somewhere to vent, some outlet. It won’t change anything. I feel hopeless and empty again. I might just delete everything. I don’t know.

The best I can do right now is try again tomorrow.

( if you read all of this thanks for listening to my rant and I’m sorry I wasted your time when you could have been scrolling onto something cooler like tiddies or anime idk but ty anyways <3 )

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Ch 10 part 1

masterpost

“Tyranny!” Damian bellowed. His little face was red with fury.

Cass crossed her arms and nodded agreement. She was not accepting any more changes to her life at this time. Things were already happening, too much.

“Nevertheless,” said cruel Batdad. “The pediatric nutritionist will be here tomorrow.” He was trying very hard to seem composed and unaffected by their upset. But he was affected. So affected. And yet he persisted on traveling down the wrong path.

Cass hissed.

Their natural ally, Alfred, put his nose up a little as he cleared the dinner dishes. He sniffed as he left, unhappy-stiff. Cass did not know how he had been defeated. Food was his domain, not some interloper with a pathetic weepy Doctorate of nutritional sciences.

“He designs the meal plans for child Olympians,” Batdad coaxed. He wanted them to like him soooo much. “Standard advice is not necessarily very useful for extreme athletes. You might feel better afterwards. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Gentle, gentle, pleading.

No!!!

Damian stabbed his fork upright into his cinnamon roll and pointed an index finger at their tormentor. “I will not submit. I consume an adequately varied and nutritious diet. Whatever your true aims are, I will not be moved.”

Cass scarfed down her own dessert messily, scowling at Batdad the whole time as if to say: come and take it from me. Can you? You can’t.

Duke watched this with clever eyes darting between Batdad and his siblings. His body said: I don’t care. But I won’t pick Bruce publicly. What can I get? Can I make trouble? 

Hmm. Cass didn’t like that. She narrowed her eyes at him. He should philosophically agree with their cause. She was going to crawl under his bed and hiss, scary sounds to wake him up and go BOO. 

She made a mental note to do that before patrol tonight. If she could even fit it in, jeeze.

Ugh. So busy. Always so much to do.

The tension was high when they trooped to the cave for briefing, before Duke went to bed and everyone else took their pre-patrol nap. Cass lingered sullenly because she wanted to hear Duke’s report on the mechanic. Jacqueline’s apartment had been sneakily snuck through. The conclusion?

“There’s a lot of work clothes in the apartment, but no tools or anything like that. No references or books, aside from a couple of ones from the university library.” Duke fidgeted, micromovement. Not an interesting report. Not an enjoyable detour. “There’s no indication as to what she’s been working on. I took DNA samples off some dirty dishes and hair off the sofa. They’re filed for processing.”

Disappointing. The next step was unclear. Cass frowned. Should they try to observe again? Wait for Jacqueline to leave her lair and follow? Perhaps they should enter the apartment and lurk, ask questions. Tell her: We know your criminal associations. Stop it. Stop it, Jacqueline.

Damian stuck his lips out. He would say: This is not a pout, Cain.

It was a pout.

“I see.” Timbird took notes, fingers flying. Tap tap tap. “You’re passing the case back?”

“It’s all yours,” he said, nodding to Damian. Babybat nodded solemnly. My responsibility. He looked at her. Cass nodded: I have your bat-back. Let’s creep on Jacqueline, as a family.

Hmm. It was too quiet. Usually, there was Batdad commentary. She snuck a look at him even though she and Damian were ignoring him for his cruelties.

Batdad was pondering. He was paying enough attention, but his mind was on something else. Hmm. Cass prodded him. “Ah- Tim, did you upload your conclusions about the Amity Park case?”

Oh. Cass kept her body still, letting it say: I’m bored, I don’t care.

Timbird sighed and ruffled his hair. The gel made a little crackle sound. “It’s a massive government coverup,” he said. Unhappy. “I think a few residents fled, but it looks like it was a mass murder of the residents. The tank tracks came from a subdivision called the GIW, which is ridiculously over militarized.” He opened a file on one of the many Batcomputer screens. It showed a complex of buildings, taken from above. Superboy photography? “They’re doing weapons development, and it appears to be based on the designs of local scientists, also missing.”

“These scientists were affiliated with the GIW?” Batdad asked.

Tim shrugged. “Unclear.” His mouth twitched, unhappy. “There’s evidence of some collaboration, but it seemed a relatively normal exchange of information. Now, the GIW appears to have all their patented inventions and is replicating them.”

“So either these scientists are on staff or they have been removed,” Damibat scowled. A grumpy line formed between his eyebrows. So cute. 

“Removed?” Duke repeated, amused.

“From this mortal coil,” Damibat repeated. Impatient. Keep up, Thomas.  Haha. Cass sniggered and stuck her tongue out. Yeah. Keep up, Duke.

[kimoralov3]

road trippin'

pairing: eddie munson x reader

description: you design eddie's latest tattoo, so obviously he's going to bring you along to the appointment. but of course his van would pick today of all days to break down. the two of you will just have to sit there until someone can come get you

warnings: swearing, weed, eddie's an idiot, reader uses they/them pronouns, horribly described drawing, allusions to sex but nothing actually happens, slight angst, fluff, semi established relationship

word count: 1754

a/n: tagging @arkofblake because she did come up with the idea but then i put my own spin on it so lol. also apologies for anything that's inaccurate i know nothing about weed or why a van would break down

Eddie sits on Y/N’s bed, his legs up on the wall as he looks through their cassette collection. “My god, you have some very interesting music taste, to say the very least.”

Y/N looks up from their spot on the windowsill, sketchbook falling to the floor as they snatch the tape from Eddie’s hands. “Like you would know anything.” They say teasingly as they toss it back into one of their drawers.

“Hey, I know all about good music.” Eddie says as he rolls over to lay on his stomach, taking slight offense to their teasing comment. 

“Keep telling yourself that.” They say with a laugh as they pick their sketchbook up off the floor. They flip through until they find the page they’re looking for, waving it in Eddie’s face. “Is that good enough for you?”

Eddie takes the sketchbook in his hands, examining the drawing closely. It was very detailed; a dagger with a shining blade, a spider perched on the hilt. “This is fucking awesome.” He says as he pulls them down on the bed, causing them to let out a squeak. 

“Glad you think so.” They say as they scoot so their side is pressed against Eddie’s. “You’re really gonna get something I drew tattooed on your body?” 

“Of course I am, you’re the best artist I know.” He mutters as he sets the sketchbook on the bed, leaning over to press a kiss to their shoulder. They smile, rolling onto their side and supporting their head with their hand.

“It’s your decision, I guess. But I better be the first one to see it, alright Munson?” They say as they give him a playful glare. Eddie laughs heartily at that, gently shoving Y/N. 

“Sweetheart, you think I’d go get a tattoo you drew and not bring you with me?” He says as he drapes his arm over their waist. Y/N seems a little shocked by his words, but still scoots closer so that their chests are pressed together. 

“Really?” They ask, shivering slightly as Eddie’s fingertips trace random patterns on their skin. 

“Of course. Who knows, might even convince you to get a piercing if I’m lucky enough.” Eddie teases as he continues his — somewhat unintentional — distraction.

Y/N scoffs, shaking their head. “In your dreams, Munson.” They say before leaning over and pressing their lips together. 

—

“So this is your usual tattoo shop, right?” Y/N asks as they look out the window of Eddie’s van.

“It is now. Some of my tattoos were done in a random person’s basement.” He says with a small smirk, glancing over at Y/N.

“You really have no self preservation skills, do you?” They ask, a slight air of disappointment surrounding their words. 

“I have great self preservation skills, for your information. Just not all the time.” He says smugly. Y/N rolls their eyes, going back to looking out the window.

The car ride is silent for the most part; Eddie tapping his fingers against the wheel to whatever song is playing, and Y/N occasionally pointing out signs that they thought were funny. 

“Do you hear that?” Y/N asks as they sit up straighter in their seat. Eddie gives them a confused look, reaching over to turn down his music. 

“What am I supposed to be hearing?” He asks as he glances between them and the road. 

“Listen closely.” They say as they vaguely wave their hand around. Eddie rolls his eyes, doing as Y/N says and listening closer. Now that there wasn’t any music in the way, he could hear a weird clunking sound, but he wasn’t exactly sure where it was coming from. 

“Shit.” He mutters, looking around for somewhere to pull over. He settles for a small clearing, about a 5 minute walk from a phonebooth. Eddie and Y/N both slide out of the car, Eddie rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “What are the chances we just ran over a rock or something?”

“Eddie, be serious. Why don’t we go check the engine?” They say as they walk towards the front of the van. Eddie groans, dragging his feet as he follows along. As soon as he pops the hood, the two of them are enveloped with black smoke. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Eddie mumbles as he messes around with parts of the engine before stepping back. “It’s completely busted.” 

“Busted? What do you mean busted?” Y/N asks as they look between Eddie and the still smoking engine. 

“Like calling a tow truck busted.” Eddie says as he runs a hand through his hair. “God, this could not have happened at a worst time.”

“Hey hey, don’t freak out yet, okay? I’ll go call a tow truck, you stay here and see if you can get a better look at what’s wrong.” They instruct before walking off towards the phonebooth. 

Eddie does as he’s told, poking around to find the root of the problem. It’s ultimately no use, there’s only so much the eye can see when there’s this much smoke. The engine is also too hot to touch, so with a defeated groan Eddie slams the lid shut and makes his way to the back of the van.

When Y/N comes back 20 minutes later, chuckling when they see that Eddie has unraveled the blanket he keeps in the back. “They said they should be here in about an hour and a half. Something about an accident.” They say with a shrug as they move to lay beside Eddie. 

“It’s better than nothing, I guess.” He says as he rolls over onto his side. “I also can’t figure out what’s wrong with the engine, or how much it would cost me, so that’s great.”

“Stop worrying so much, you’ll get wrinkles.” Y/N jokes as they flick his forehead. Eddie yelps dramatically, bringing a hand up to rub where he’d been injured. 

“Ouch! I’m fragile, you know.” He says as he playfully shoves them. They laugh at that, shoving him back. The two of them wrestle for a bit before Y/N eventually surrenders, still giggling as they roll over on their back.

“So, what are we gonna do while we wait on the calvary?” They ask as they pick at some loose threads on the blanket. 

There’s a long pause before a smug smile crosses Eddie’s mouth. “I have some weed in the center console. That’s a great way to pass the time, isn’t it?” 

Y/N pauses for a moment, seemingly considering his offer before shrugging. “Sure, why the hell not?” They say as they sit up. Eddie makes a triumphant noise as he goes to grab the small baggie. He shuts the back doors when he comes back, throwing the bag in Y/N’s lap.

“Angels first.” He says with a cheeky smile. Y/N rolls their eyes as they grab a joint, plucking the lighter from the pocket of Eddie’s vest. Eddie watches as they spark up, giving them a once over. “You’re really pretty, you know that?” 

“Thanks, I get that a lot.” They say sarcastically as they hand the joint over to him, leaning against the back of the seat. The two of them continue passing the joint back and forth, making jokes and flirty comments the whole time. 

“So, what are we gonna do with the rest of our time? Still have about 45 minutes left until that tow truck comes.” Eddie asks as he lays his head in Y/N’s lap. They hum in deep thought, running their hand gently through Eddie’s hair. 

“We could finally talk about us.” They say as they scratch his scalp softly, causing his eyes to flutter shut. 

“Mm, that feels really good,” He says with a smile. “What about us?”

“Oh come on Eddie, don’t make me ask that stupid question.” They groan as they stop massaging his head. Eddie finally opens his eyes, looking up at them. 

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to be more straightforward with me here. What do you mean when you say that we should talk about us?” He asks as he sits up.

“Fine, I guess I’ll be that person.” They say as they scoot away from him. Eddie frowns at that, reaching out and grabbing their hand to pull them closer.

“Don’t move away, tell me what’s wrong.” He says as he succeeds in pulling them closer.

“What are we doing here?” They finally ask. “Like, are we just messing around, or is this actually something serious?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He says softly as he realizes what’s been making them so upset. He sits up fully, making sure to look directly into their eyes as he speaks. “Do you seriously think I would just mess around with you like that?”

Y/N begins picking at the skin of their thumbs, avoiding Eddie’s gaze. “I don’t know, maybe. To be honest that is kind of how it started out. The two of us just messing around.”

Eddie hesitated for a moment. They were right, all of this had started with them messing around. “That doesn’t mean that that’s all I think of you.” He says reassuringly. 

Y/N smiles softly, intertwining their fingers together. “Really?”

“Of course not. I’d be a fool to let someone like you slip through my fingers.” He says as he squeezes their hand, pulling them to sit on his lap. 

“So, does that mean we’re like… dating now?” They ask as they twist one of Eddie’s rings around his finger. Eddie smiles at the action, admiring their nervous habits. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that we’re like, dating now.” He says, pitching his voice up slightly to mock them. 

“Ugh, you’re such an asshole!” They squeal as they push him onto his back. Eddie laughs loudly at that, pulling them down on top of him.

“Yeah, but I’m your asshole.” He says, pausing when he notices how Y/N scrunches up their nose. “I should’ve thought that through more, shouldn’t I?”

Y/N giggles as they nod their head, leaning down so their chin is resting on Eddie’s chest. “Yeah, you really should’ve.”

“Well, I was never the one winning prizes for my English papers.” He says as he slides his hand down their back. Y/N rolls their eyes, laying down fully on his chest.

“Just shut up and hold me.” They mumble.

“With pleasure.” Eddie says as he wraps his arms tightly around their waist.

[anniebeemine]

I’d love to see dad Spencer finding out his teen daughter has a boyfriend and reader is just like “this is normal babe” and he’s just so that dad who doesn’t want his little girl to grow up

Spencer wasn’t sure when it had happened. One day, his daughter Eliza was running around the backyard, obsessed with dinosaurs and space, and the next, she was texting non-stop, staying up late on the phone, and hanging out with friends. She was growing up fast—too fast for his liking—and now, at sixteen, she’d hit him with something he was entirely unprepared for.

“So...I have a boyfriend,” Eliza said casually, looking down at her phone while sitting at the kitchen table.

Spencer nearly dropped his mug of coffee.

“What?” His voice came out sharper than he intended, and Eliza’s head snapped up to meet his wide-eyed stare. She bit her lip nervously, but her expression was mostly amused, like she had expected this kind of reaction.

“I said, I have a boyfriend, Dad,” she repeated, more slowly, as if that might make the shock easier to absorb. “His name’s Ethan, we’ve been texting for a couple weeks and...we’re going to a movie this weekend.”

Spencer felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. A boyfriend? His little girl had a boyfriend? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not yet. Not ever, if he had his way.

You, standing by the stove and flipping pancakes, glanced over at the scene unfolding. You were smiling softly, clearly not surprised by Eliza’s news, and you gave Spencer a knowing look as he struggled to find words.

Spencer had noticed the changes, of course. How could he not? Over the last few weeks, Eliza had been giggling at her phone more than usual, texting away with a grin that made him wonder what was so funny. She’d been asking to stay out an extra thirty minutes before he picked her up from her friend's house, her voice casual but always a little too hopeful. And then there was the way she was suddenly excited to go to school—something that used to take a lot more convincing, especially for early mornings.

But Spencer had brushed it off at the time, chalking it up to normal teenage behavior. Maybe she was just hanging out with her friends more. Maybe her classes had gotten more interesting. He hadn’t connected the dots.

Now, as she casually mentioned having a boyfriend, it hit him like a freight train.

He should have paid more attention.

He stood there, still holding his coffee, realizing that all those little signs had been pointing to this moment. The giggling, the extra time with her friends, the sudden enthusiasm for school—it all made sense now. Ethan.

“Eliza, when exactly did this start?” Spencer asked, trying to sound calm but knowing he wasn’t pulling it off.

Eliza shrugged, still scrolling through her phone. “A few weeks ago. It’s not that serious, Dad.”

Not that serious? His daughter had a boyfriend, and she was acting like it was just another Tuesday.

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but you gave him a gentle nudge before he could start spiraling again. You’d been watching the whole thing unfold, a soft smile on your face as you watched your husband try to process this new chapter of parenthood.

“Spence,” you said gently, catching his attention, “it’s normal, you know.”

“Normal?” Spencer repeated, his voice incredulous as he turned to you. “Our daughter—our little girl—has a boyfriend, and that’s normal?”

You laughed softly, walking over to him and resting a hand on his arm. “Yes, it’s normal, babe. She’s a teenager. This was bound to happen at some point.”

“I wasn’t ready for this,” he mumbled, still staring at Eliza like she had just told him she was moving to another country. He thought back to all those little moments he hadn’t fully paid attention to—the way she’d been giggling at her phone, how she always seemed to be in a good mood after school. The puzzle pieces were coming together now.

Eliza, for her part, rolled her eyes but smiled, clearly amused by her dad’s overreaction. “Dad, relax. It’s not a big deal. Ethan’s nice.”

Spencer opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled, “Nice?”

You squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you meet him before jumping to any conclusions?”

Spencer was already shaking his head. “I don’t need to meet him. I know boys his age and they-"

“Spence,” you interrupted, shooting him a look. “Eliza’s smart. She’ll be fine. And besides, you trust her, right?”

Eliza gave him a hopeful smile. “Yeah, Dad. You trust me, don’t you?”

He hesitated. Of course, he trusted her—she was the most brilliant, thoughtful person he knew. But the idea of her being out there with a boyfriend, navigating relationships and the teenage world, it was overwhelming. She was still his little girl.

But he could see the way her eyes were watching him, waiting for his approval, and he couldn’t be the dad that held her back from growing up. With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, trying to shake the tension out of his shoulders.

“I...I trust you, Eliza,” he said finally, though he still looked like he was struggling to come to terms with it. “But, uh...maybe I should meet this Ethan kid before your date.”

Eliza grinned, rolling her eyes affectionately. “Of course, Dad. I’ll make sure he’s ready for the interrogation.”

Spencer groaned, looking at you for support, and you just laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist. “See? Not so bad.”

“It feels bad,” Spencer muttered, though his heart was slowly warming to the idea. “Can’t she stay ten forever?”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Nope. But she’ll always be your little girl.”

And even though Spencer wasn’t entirely ready, he knew you were right. He watched Eliza happily texting away, already excited for her movie date, and couldn’t help but smile. He might not like it, but he’d be there to support her every step of the way, even if it meant meeting her first boyfriend with a million questions lined up.

Spencer nodded, though the reality was still sinking in. His little girl was no longer just the dinosaur-obsessed kid running through the backyard. She was becoming her own person, with her own life and experiences. And while he wasn’t quite ready for all the changes, he knew he’d be there for her, through every giggle and every milestone, even if it meant meeting Ethan and doing “the dad thing” with a nervous smile.

For now, though, he’d take a deep breath and try not to panic—too much.

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 3

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): angst ofc, comfort. Please be advised; future parts might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't begin the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- get excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You'd practically torn apart every drawer in your dresser and tossed out every hanger in your closet at this point. All those clothes you'd put away were for nothing; your room was a disaster. Yet, you could not find anything suitable enough for an outing with the Autumn heir and his daughter.

"The PINK one," the four year old chimed in for the hundredth time.

Her commentary was not necessarily helping, either.

"Riley, I'm not sure that the pink is my favorite," you say, and she scootches to the edge of your bed, hopping off and trotting over to your closet. She watches as you furiously flip through the remaining hangers, and her fist closes around a fistfull of marigold fabric.

"This!" She says, tugging on a rather simple milkmaid-style dress you hadn't worn in years, honestly. It was cute, it at least had some floral detailing on it.

You sighed, looking down at the beaming child. You'd done her hair first; half up, half down with a biiiig bow, just as she'd requested. A bow to match her fluffy gown and pretty flats, of course. She truly was the definition of Princess.

"I suppose-"

"Yay!" She twirled, her dress billowing out around her. She wafted toward the corner as you slid the dress on, adjusting it to fit before stepping out in front of the large mirror to inspect it in full. You'd barely laid your eyes on the full outfit before Riley bounded over to you, her mouth wide as she gasped.

"You look so pretty!" She said, wrapping her arms around your knee as her eyes met yours in the mirror. You smiled at her, leaning down to give her a hug.

"Thank you Riles! You look very pretty today too." You complimented, and she giggled, her fingers drifting through the ends of your curled hair. You decided on a few minimal jewelry pieces and flats, pushing your accessory drawer closed when a thin, marigold ribbon fell out. Riley noticed it, racing over and picing it up for you.

"We match?" She asked, extending the hair accessory to you on an outstretched hand. You took it from her; all you could do was agree, tying half your hair back and fastening it in a bow at the back.

"We better go find your dad," you suggest, straightening the last few imperfections of your dress before Riley's attention is caught at the doorway.

"Oh my -- Riley, you look wonderful!" Eris' voice compliments from your doorway, and she bounds over to him, getting caught in his arms in an instant. He kisses her cheek, both of them looking to you after a moment's pause. "You both do," he adds, quieter this time. You turn slightly, blushing at the compliment as you retrieve your purse from your bed and walk towards them.

"As do you, Vanserra." You brush past him with a wink, heading down the hallway with all the confidence in the world today it seemed. Riley's footsteps bounded behind you, the three of you on your merry way.

✧･ﾟ: *

You'd ridden to the Town Square on horseback; Riley with her dad, of course. When you'd gotten to the main district, he'd gotten off with Riley first, helping you next like a true gentleman. His hand lingered for a moment around your waist, the heat of his touch enough to send a thrill down your spine.

Stop it. You chastized yourself. You still work for him, you know.

Riley gasped, pointing toward the center of the streets, the crowds and vendors bustling with business this afternoon. "Daddy, look!" She squealed, pointing and hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. His hand held hers, beginning the trek through the busy streets. You accompanied her other side, sure to keep close to her just in case.

"Look! Daddy!" She shrieked in delight, and Eris scratched the back of his head, failing to recognize which vendor Riley was pointing out. You looked ahead, trying to decipher what might have her so intrigued. That’s when you saw it.

You leaned over, gently tapping his shoulder. He looked to you, and you placed your fingers atop your head, pointing down at Riley and then ahead. He looked forward, the realization dawning on him then.

“Oh! I see, the lady with the crowns?” He asked. Riley shrieked, jumping up and down as your trio continued on, making way toward the craft table. Eris looked to you, silently mouthing a thank you. You only nodded once, giving him a small smile in return.

Riley let go of her father’s hand, leaping toward the table full of play pretend crowns when she was close enough to see it fully. She oogled over them all — finding it hard to choose just one.

“Good morning, folks!” The older woman behind the table greeted, and you bowed your head in polite greeting as well.

“Hi, I like all these,” Riley said, and the lady chuckled.

“Well, aren’t you a little cutie,” she cooed, and Riley nodded.

“Actually, I’m a Princess.” The lady smiled at her, and Riley inspected a pink bedazzled one more closely.

“Oh, I bet you are, aren’t you!” She said. She seemed to only just now notice Eris, her eyes widening in pleasant surprise.

“Why, if it isn’t the High Lord's son himself! Oh, goodness,” She said, curtsying hastily. Eris smiled politely.

“No worries, ma’am. Good morning to you too. Lovely day today, isn’t it?” He said, and her eyes lit up.

“It isn’t isn’t it? Gosh, what a beautiful day-“

“Daddy, I want this one!” Riley thrust a golden crown with red gems glued to it into the air, and Eris stepped forward.

“Alright dear, alright.” He chuckled, fishing out a few coppers from his pocket. “How much for this one?” He asked. The old woman waved a hand, shaking her head.

“Nonsense; it’d be my honor to give one of my crafts to the Autumn Princess.” Riley beamed, putting her new crown on her head in delight.

“That’s very kind of you, but I insist.” He dropped a few coins, definitely more than the piece cost — and the lady gave him a gracious smile.

“Thank you!” Riley said, and the woman nodded to her.

“You’re teaching that one well, Eris!” She said, and Eris waved as you all made your way to the next table.

✧･ﾟ: *

You’d only made it by about five more tables when the face painting station came into view. Of course, that was next on the agenda, and of course, it had the longest line of children. Nonetheless; Riley patiently waited her turn, standing calmly between a few other rowdy kids while you and Eris watched from the fountain a few feet away.

“That’s all you, you know.” He said, your sidelong glances meeting for only a moment. “Her, manners, I mean. How well behaved she is. Her patience,” he explains. You clasp your hands together, his shoulder resting against the stone so close to the side of your face. You were grateful, anyway; he shielded the midday sun from your view.

“She doesn’t get that from you?”

He lets out a sharp laugh, looking at you incredulously. “Oh, absolutely not. Me, as a child… Gods, I wish there was a way I could repay my mother for how reckless I was.” He shook his head, and you bit your lip to hold back your giggle.

“You seem like you’ve got this-“ he gestures his hand in a circle, motioning to Riley who looks over and mistakes it as a wave. She waves, and both of you wave back at her, that little smile so contagious.

“It just seems like you’ve got this whole thing figured out already. Like, you’ve always got an answer for everything.” He scratches his chin, and your mouth tilts in a side smile at his words.

“Eris, truly, I don’t though. I mean, I don’t even have kids myself...yet.” You say, and he lets out a long breath. Your mind races, thinking of everything you know you shouldn’t in that moment.

“You want them someday, though?” He asks. Your expression must say something, because he quickly fumbles his words. “I’m sorry, that’s, um. That’s really personal, I didn’t mean. That.”

You look down at the pavement, more than the afternoon sun warming the skin on your cheeks. “Well,” you say, your eyes daring a glance at him only to realize his face is rather flushed as well. “Riley won’t need a nanny forever, right?”

Eris runs a hand through his hair, readjusting his position against the wall of the fountain. “No, no. I suppose she won’t.”

“Look! She’s almost done,” You say, watching as the artist cleans her brush in the water one last time. Eris tries to peer around people and get a look at what design she got, and you curl your fingers around the rather large muscle of his upper arm.

“Wait! Don’t look — what do you think she got?” You ask, and Eris’ gaze wavers between where your fingers hold tight to him and your eyes trained on his.

“I…. uh… I don’t know,” he says, failing to come up with a good guess. “Probably the pony; little girls love ponies, right?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I bet you one copper that she comes back with a bunny painted on her cheek.” You guess, and he shrugs.

“Alright, suit yourself. One copper it is, then.” Riley scooted back in her chair, bounding over to you with a wide smile on her face. Eris watched as your smile grew with every step his daughter took toward you two, a fluffy, pink bunny painted right on her cheek.

✧･ﾟ: *

Riley started getting a bit fussy after the late lunch the three of you had shared, indicating it was indeed her naptime. She refused to be carried by her father through the busy streets, preferring to walk between you two hand-in-hand instead.

"Swing me!" She shouted, skipping along as she gripped your fingers in hers. Eris looked to you and sighed, but you only shrugged.

"Alright dear, but only a few times, we're nearly to the horses-"

"Okay, Daddy, okay!" She said, rearing back and preparing to be swung off her feet.

"One, two, three!" Eris counted, lifting her in time with you off her little feet, sending her flying into the air a few inches as she squealed in delight. When her feet hit the ground once more, she laughed with joy, asking again and again for the same thing.

You watched as the little girl fell asleep soundly against her father's chest, drifting off with the rocking atop the horse as you'd made the trek home. It made you happy to see Eris getting to do these little things, even if it was just carrying his daughter inside and lying her down for her nap. You'd taken to the kitchen, noticing the darkening sky and decided to prep for the evening meal as you'd be cooking for one extra this evening.

"I didn't realize how much went into what you do."

You didn't need to look to know he'd come into the kitchen, his voice only a few feet away. You continued to pull out the various pots and pans needed, closing the cabinets with care to not wake Riley.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you say, walking toward the fridge in search of the vegetables. Eris stalks over to the island, leaning against it as he watches you pull things out.

"I just meant. Well, I don't get to spend as much time with her as I'd like." He says, and you stand, shutting the refrigerator door behind you. You walk over and stand beside him, laying out the veggies on the countertop before you.

"I see," You say. He was talking about his daughter, you knew that. A soft rumbling sounds from outside, and you glance behind you. The sky outside the window has indeed darkened; you hoped the thunder would only enhance her slumber, not stir her from it.

You bent over, reaching in the cabinet for a cutting board and placing it on the island. Eris went quiet next to you, and you risked a glance at him. Your face fell when you noticed his downcast eyes, so full of light and love just hours ago now replaced with something darker.

"What's... what has you so upset-"

"I'm the only parent she has left," he says harshly, his hands bracing the edge of the marble. "I barely know a thing about my own kid, and I don't get to see her often because of my damned job, my position in this court that I'd give up in an instant if I knew she'd be safe-" he stops, the last word broken by a crack in his voice. His knuckles had gone white against the counter, and your eyes had widened at his outburst.

You reached out a timid hand in comfort, but pulled back as the image of last time flashed through your mind. The way he freaked out when you put your hand on his arm, just trying to be there for him...

You weren't sure what he wanted from you.

"Eris... I don't know what to say." You couldn't think of what to do, shaking your head slowly as your hands hung limply at your sides. "I'm... I'm really sorry, about today, if I stepped on your toes by going with you guys, I know how important your time is with her, I just-"

His head turns, looking to you in that moment. You hadn't realized how close you stood to one another, his intense gaze feeling like fire as he scanned your face. You couldn't read him -- his eyes watered, and he looked... frustrated? Confused? What was it?

"Look, I'm sorry, I'll just leave you alone-"

"Please don't," he whispered, his eyes falling to your hands as a tear ran down his cheek. "Please. Don't leave."

Your heart throbbed, pins prickling the backs of your own eyes. In that moment, you reached both of your hands out, not caring the repercussions of your actions as you slid your arms around Eris' ribs, pulling him into you and holding tight. He breathed deep, his torso shuddering as you fought back your own tears while running your fingers up and down his back. His hands gripped your waist, his strong arms enveloping you as he allowed himself to finally relax against your touch, finally accepting a bit of the comfort you so desperately had been trying to offer him.

"Eris," you said quietly, the rainfall the only other sound in the room over the quiet sounds of your combined breaths. "You have to understand that you are a good father." His fingers flex around your waist, holding you tighter as he takes in your words.

"Riley talks about you all day long," you continue. "She waits everyday for you to come home, and I really think you don't give yourself enough credit for all of the things you do for her each and every day." You say.

"She knows your work is... not, well. Normal," you say, and he nods against your shoulder. "I think everyone knows that you do a lot, and you've been through so much," you chuckle humorlessly, pressing your cheek against his chest. "The main thing we care about, honestly, is that you come home safe every night."

He pulls back slowly, his hand sliding from your waist to brush a piece of hair from your forehead. You hadn't realized it'd stuck to your cheek -- a stream of wet from the corner of your eye was proof of that. His fingers remained lightly cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin as he continued to hold you against him.

"You truly are a Queen." Eris says, his soft smile drawing a little chuckle from you. "Beautiful inside and out."

Your cheeks are ablaze from his words, your breathing unsteady as his fingers pull you closer, his lips mere inches from yours. You can see every caramel hue in his irises, every light freckle dusting the bridge of his nose when-

A sharp crack sounds behind you, the room illuminating with the bolt of lightning that flashes across the sky. You flinch, embarassed as the moment passes and you're left in darkness again. You realize you'd clung tighter to Eris, and he'd done the same; both of you releasing your hold on the other at the same time.

He clears his throat, running a hand through his hair as he lets out a short laugh. "Uh, well," he chuckles, gesturing to the spread of forgotten vegetables on the countertop before you. "This is another thing I am not proficient at." He shrugs, and you nod, wiping your palms on the skirt of your dress.

"Oh! Right, um, well. I'd be happy to show you, if you'd like. I thought for dinner tonight, we'd do traditional autumn stew?"

✧･ﾟ: *

The rest of that night was nice... for the most part.

Dinner was nice. The three of you enjoying it together was nice. Riley insisted on having movie night afterwards, so Eris set up the projector and the three of you snuggled together in the living area under a mound of blankets and pillows to watch Moana... which was nice. You'd even fallen asleep there, and to wake up using Eris' arm as a pillow... well, you'd be lying if you said that wasn't nice, too.

What was not so nice, was the morning after.

You'd woken up first, enoying the sight around you in the dim light but eventually you made your way to the kitchen for some tea. The first light of morning hadn't risen yet, which meant you had some time before Riley would wake up to prepare a meal for her... and her father, too. You were pondering what to make when footsteps behind you had you whirling around in the dark, squinting to make out the figure before you.

"Don't worry -- it's just me," Eris whispered, and you rubbed your eyes, taking him in more clearly. He was already fully dressed, not in his usual attire or how he would dress when spending time at home, either. He was in his armor, the various straps and ties secured across his chest and arms making your eyes widen and forcing you to wake up quickly.

"Where are you going?" You asked, and he stepped closer, his voice a hushed whisper.

"I recieved word that I would be needed this week for correspondence in a few of the other courts," he says, and your heart lurches. "I am hoping to be back sooner, but-"

"Wait. You're leaving for an entire week?" You squeak, and he nods gravely. You shudder, but you feel his fingers wrap around yours as he brings your hand to his lips.

"I promise, I will try to be back sooner." He says, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. You shake your head, your mind racing with a million dark thoughts you wished you weren't having this early in the morning.

"What about Riley?"

He sighs, dropping your hand and scratching his chin. "Last time I had to leave like this, you remember she didn't handle the goodbye well-"

"So you think leaving without saying anything is better?" You ask, your frown evident. His head drops between his shoulders, and his hands lightly hold onto your shoulders.

"Y/N, you know it kills me to leave like this," he says, his eyes pleading in the dim morning light. "I can't go through that again with her." He says, and you sigh. It was horrendous last time, her wailing and sobbing as he left for his mission lasted days when she was told what wsa happening. You still felt the guilt in your gut by not telling her what was going on though.

Your fingers found his, your gaze firmly holding his. "I'm telling her today after you've gone. She at least deserves to understand what's happening." He nods, pulling you in quickly to his chest. Your heart skips a beat, the anticipation, fear, and something else all mixed together like the bubbling water of the Cauldron inside of you.

"One week. I'll see you then," he says against your hair, releasing you as he quietly makes his way to and out of the front door.

✧･ﾟ: *

That whole week was Hell.

Riley asked at least once a day when her father would come home, and you felt worse and worse when you couldn't give her a straight answer as you weren't entirely sure yourself as to when he'd return. Honestly, it made you sick not knowing exactly what was going on either, and having to put on a brave face every morning was beginning to weigh on you more than you liked to admit. You truly wished you didn't care so much -- but the tethers around your heart pulled everytime you imagined the worst, thinking of what could be happening to Eris-

"Y/N is sad." Riley stands near the end of the kitchen counter, her limp beagle dangling from her fingers. Her tired eyes were swollen and red, and you lift your head from your hands on the counter at the sound of her voice. You glance toward the clock. 9 pm.

"Riley, honey, I put you in bed an hour ago-"

"But Y/N is sad too." She walks softly toward you, the braid you'd done in her hair now slightly mussed from the tossing and turning she'd likely done in her bed before she'd woken up. She approaches, wrapping her arms around your thigh and pressing her cheek to your exposed skin. Tears threaten the corners of your eyes, all of the emotions hitting you in full today. It was the seventh day Eris hadn't come back, and you were both feeling the weight of his absence it seemed.

You bend down, kneeling before her to engulf her in your arms in a proper hug. She shakes lightly against you, and you can't help the single tear that slips free, dripping onto her soft hair. Her fingers grip onto your silky pajamas, clutching you tightly.

"I miss daddy so much," she mumbles into your shoulder. Your hand runs over her little back, trying to provide her comfort while keeping your own tears at bay.

You take a shaky breath, your voice broken as more quiet tears fall down your cheeks. "I know sweetheart. I miss him too."

✧･ﾟ: *

Riley ended up drifting off in your lap, and you'd opted to carry her to your room. The distance from the kitchen was shorter, and in an effort to not stir her again, you laid her in your plush blankets, tucking her in and watching as she snuggled into the warm blankets with contentment. You left the lamp on in case she woke up, but closed the door this time; Gods forbid you had another emotional breakdown and woke her once more.

You retreated to the living room, reaching for a few blankets in the dark room when the creak of the side door sent a chill down your spine.

Were you hearing things?

You froze in place, every drop of blood in your body turning to ice when you heard it swing shut.

Definitely not hearing things. Someone was in the house.

Your head spun, cheeks ablaze and palms clamming up all at once. This hadn't happened before, or yet, anyway. Eris had touched on this issue when you first started working here, but what had he said about intruders? You couldn't remember.

The pit forming in your stomach grew as your mind raced, trying to think of any escape, any plan, any action to get Riley out of here before you both met your end. Gods, what had he said when you were hired, anyway? Something about his swords, in his room, maybe? Those were all the way down the hall -- you'd never make it in time.

You took a silent step toward the foyer, then another. The intruder would be in the kitchen soon, and you wouldn't waste any precious seconds you had to save Riley. You had to move, now.

Passing the small entryway table, you contemplated the vase atop it for a moment. Honestly, it would only wake Riley and alert the intruder of her presence. Maybe he would just take you and leave, if you could be quiet enough. You had a better shot defending yourself with your fists anyway -- the glass decoration would simply shatter anyway.

You rounded the corner, sucking in a breath as you heard a low moan coming from the kitchen. Your heartbeat faltered, an invisible pull like a magnet drawing you closer. You squinted in the dark, trying to make out any shapes or forms through the dim lighting.

Another low groan, only this time you recognized it. Your clenched fist loosened, and you took a few quick steps toward the small faelight to flick it on, revealing the horrific scene before you.

"Eris?"

✧･ﾟ: *

You worked quickly, trotting around the master washroom with supplies as your mind seemed to fog over. You felt as though this was a silent film, and you were a puppet; nothing was real, you couldn't hear, or think, or register what was going on before you-

"Y/N, please-"

"I'm working on it," you say absentmindedly, your fingers shaking as you begin soaking the rag clutched in your hand with cleaning solution. Eris' eyes widen, and he stares at you silently.

Only when the rag is practically dripping do you look up at him, barely able to look him in the eye before muttering, "this is going to hurt like Hell." He nods, and you quickly press the rag into his abdomen, his muscles immediately tensing around the area. He sucks in a sharp breath, the following few are ragged as he white-knucke grips the counter behind him.

"Gods, Y/N-"

"Hold still." You command, your tone lacking warmth as you move to press against the long gash, attempting to stop the blood free flowing from it. He groans again but you keep going, readjustign the cloth until you've wiped most of the blood away and the wound is clean for the most part.

You retreat to the medicine cabinet, grabbing a jar of salve and some large bandage wrap from it before standing before Eris once more. You gather some of the cool jelly on your fingers, making to apply it but Eris' hand grips your shoulder in an instant, and you break from whatever panic mode you were in and look up at him.

"Wait," he whispres, pain lacing his voice as his brows knit atop his forehead. You blink, realizing that in your momentary panic-ridden attempt to help him, you were not providing what he may have needed most and not gotten much of this past week.

Your eyes dropped, and your fingers lightly wrapped around his, your thumb running over his long digits. "I'm almost done, I promise," You say, with a lot more compassion this time. His eyes meet yours, and you fight against the stinging behind yours as you move toward him, your fingers brushing over the marred skin. His fingers tighten on your shoulder, a pained gasp coming out of him again.

"Shh, it's alright," you say quietly, working as quick as you can. "Almost done, I promise," You cap the salve, tearing open the bandage wrap before aligning it over his wound. His forhead finds your shoulder, his head resting on it as the muscles around his knife wound continue to retract at your touch. You lightly wind your arms around him, securing the wrap around his midsection and completely covering up his injury. It's then that you feel the warmth of his hands on you; his hands that had been holding onto you this whole time, but now had he relaxed a little, his heat had begun to return.

You stepped an inch closer, the familiar lump in your throat from earlier returning as every word you ached to say raced through your mind. Your arms found their way around his neck, and he squeezed you tighter when he felt you holding him. You threaded one hand through his hair, softly running your fingers through it while the other traced up and down lightly across his exposed back.

"You really scared me," you whispered. A small drop of water landed on his shoulder, but you didn't care. You'd allowed yourself to be vulnerable earlier in front of Riley, and it is healthy to show that you can't be happy all of the time, and that's okay; maybe Eris needed to see that too.

He nodded against your shoulder, his head turning as his nose brushed the dip of your neck. His fingers rested on your lower back, holding firm as the two of you sat in comfortable silence, a million unsaid thoughts unshared between the two of you.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly after a few minutes, his lips brushing against your skin with the action. Your body tingled, it itched, you burned inside, just wishing things could be different. You pulled back an inch, moving to look up at him through your wet lashes. He shook his head slowly at you, his thumb brushing over the tear trails down your cheeks.

"Please don't cry," he says. You chuckle, sniffling a little before unwrapping your arms from him. His hands catch yours, keeping you close to him before you can go to far.

"I hate leaving for so long." He said, his eyes dropping as he thought about how and what to say. "I don't like to be away like that."

You swallowed thickly, nodding with the effort. "Riley missed you. A lot. She asked about you every day..." you trailed off, looking to the side. He nodded, his hand letting go of yours and moving to cup your cheek, guiding you to look up at him again.

"I miss Riley, always," he said. "But, I also miss you."

Your heart seized, your chest caving at his words. You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. How, in this worls, would you be able to say everything you wanted to, in just this moment?

You couldn't. You knew you wouldn't be able to. Not in just one moment like this. In the dim lighting of his master bath, just the two of you alone in the quiet -- he looked devastating, a few strands of his short hair brushing against his forehead as he gazed down at you. His gaze, his eyes, burning into yours with desire; you only hoped you coveyed every ounce of love you had in your body with a stare like that alone.

So, you did what felt right.

You pressed up onto the balls of your feet, his left hand on your hip balancing you as your lips finally met his. Every nerve ending in your body was ablaze, the feeling of those pillow soft lips on yours sending your mind into a state of bliss. His hand threaded through your hair, the other snaking around your lower back to press you closer against him.

You pulled back, just for a moment to make sure this was what he wanted as well. You barely had time to blink before his hands pulled you back in, his lips moving against yours with even more desire, more passion, the need only growing.

Your hands rested on his chest, fingertips pressing in slightly when he skated his tongue across your bottom lip. You allowed him in, surprising him when you swiped your tongue across his, the desire to explore every inch of his mouth one you'd been ashamed you'd had for months -- until now. He groaned, his grip on your waist tightening before his hand slid a bit lower, tracing the curve of your ass under his palm.

When you finally pulled back, gazing up at him with a small smile, you felt the heat between the two of you becoming rather warm in the small room. Whether it was eminating from him or it was how hot you felt inside, you couldn't be sure.

"You should... we should... it's late," you fumbled, chewing on your lower lip nervously. He nodded, loosening his grip on you a little but continued to pin you with his intense gaze.

"We should sleep," he agreed. You nodded, turning toward the door and making to leave but his fingers threaded lightly through yours. Your cheeks heated, and you looked to him as he smirked over your reaction.

"I..." you looked to his torso once more, and gasped. "Oh! I'm sorry, uh. Yeah, um. I can, help you. Get to bed, if that's. What. You, need." You stumbled out, and he chuckled lowly. You laughed nervously, and he pulled you against him once more. You squeaked at the feeling of his fingers gripping your hips, his lips pressing a small kiss just beneath your ear before his words sent a chill down your spine, despite the room's warm temperature.

"Maybe, you should just stay in here with me tonight."

Your backbone straightened at his suggestion, and he huffed a laugh once more. Your eyes met his, and a small smile played on your lips as you answered back.

"My bed is taken for the night, anyway. What's the harm?"

✧･ﾟ: *

[silverskye13]

Angst prompt courtesy of: @theunderscorwolph

[Accidental unfinished sneak peak. Whoops.]

Helsknight waited... Probably too long to check in on Tanguish. In his defense, the last time he spoke to Tanguish, he was heading to Hermitcraft, and while Hermitcraft was far from safe, it was, in its own ways, safer than hels. There were fewer people, fewer hazards in general, and there was Tango. Tango wasn't a fighter. As far as Helsknight could tell, he was mostly just squirrelly, and a bit cowardly. But he was fiercely loyal. That went a long way. He had even, misguidedly, attempted to save Tanguish from Helsknight once. Helsknight, who recognized he was a big, scary, angry-looking, armed and armored knight, could respect that. And Tango and Tanguish were friends, and they got wrapped up in each other sometimes, and this was far from the first time Tanguish was gone all day talking to his other half about some project.

It was, however, the first time he'd been gone for two days in a row.

Helsknight didn't really consider himself to be a worrier. Tanguish was an adult. He could take care of himself. And even if he couldn't take care of himself, Helsknight could recognize that everyone had some level of pride. Butting in on someone else's business uninvited was a great way to be a nuisance at best, and a problem at worst. So, Tanguish didn't come back by the evening? If there was a problem, Helsknight would respectfully let him handle it. Tanguish knew to come get him for help. And while Helsknight would feel truly guilty if his dithering caused Tanguish to respawn, he could take some solace in knowing he would wreak holy vengeance on whoever did it.

[That was one of the perks of being a knight: when you pointed at someone and said something along the lines of "Through hels or high water I will smite thee" or some such dramatic nonsense, people tended to get out of your way and let you get to business.]

Day two of no Tanguish, and Helsknight went from being passively concerned, to something closer to open nervousness. He asked, as subtly as he could, around the Colosseum if anyone had seen him. No one had, though Martyn did make a joke about Tanguish finally getting wise and finding a real knight to squire to.

[EB really needed to stop getting between them when Martyn said things like that. The power of a bloody nose on shitty humor was astounding.]

Eventually, Helsknight had given up and decided the best thing to do was go to Hermitcraft and track the little pest down himself. He suited up for what he thought might be a mild amount of trouble -- it was always possible he would run into Wels when he was on Hermitcraft, and if he planned on searching for someone, he wanted to minimize the time he was fighting his double. He donned his chainmail, and the netherite gauntlets and grieves. He made sure the clasps on his boots were pulled tight. He cinched on his netherite sword, and made sure it pulled easily from the sheath.

He picked up his cloak last, and gave it a contemplative frown. In hels, the cloak was a distinctive and somewhat necessary piece of costuming. It was the visual shorthand he needed to inform everyone that he was a knight, and therefore probably knew his way around a sword [and wasn't worth mugging]. For those who knew knights, it told them what Order he was a part of. Useful. On Hermitcraft, however... Being able to tell at a glance that he was a red-themed knight in dark armor, who looked suspiciously like but not quite enough like one of the other server members...

While Helsknight weighed the pros and cons of stealth and subtly, two things he was famously very bad at, the shield hanging on his wall shuddered and kicked, and someone tumbled out of the reflection with a shriek. Helsknight sighed and rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling. He did a slow count to ten in his head, and tried not to be very, very annoyed he'd just spent twenty minutes putting on armor for no good gods-damned reason.

"Tanguish," Helsknight hummed, when he thought he could keep his voice relatively neutral, "for no reason in particular, I think we should make some ground rules about when you should check in with people--"

Helsknight turned, looked down, and anything else he was going to say vanished out of his head with such abruptness, it made his ears ring. Laying prone on the floor of Helsknight's cell, staring with wide, somewhat terrified eyes and the kind of grin that screamed about recently realized mistakes, was Tango. The Hermit blinked up at him. Helsknight blinked down at him. Somewhere down the hall, somebody laughed at something, which was their only indication that the whole world hadn't frozen with them when they made eye contact.

Helsknight could say, with honesty, he never expected to be put in a situation where a Hermit stumbled into hels, much less into his cell in the Colosseum, surrounded by all the biggest, scariest, most dangerous people in hels. At a complete loss on what to do, he fell back on what he thought was safest: namely, making sure no one got killed over it. Helsknight leaped over Tango -- who screeched ingloriously -- crossed to the door of his cell and slammed it shut. There was no lock -- he'd never needed one until now -- so he settled on turning his back to the door and bracing against it, content in the knowledge that, should someone come inside, he would be the first one to know.

It did not hearten him to see that Tango was still on his floor. He had apparently, when Helsknight stepped over him, curled up as small as he could, anticipating some kind of attack. He'd thrown his arms up over his face, and now peered at Helsknight through his fingers, humming tuneless, horrified syllables.

"Tangotek," Helsknight said, concentrating on keeping his voice very calm and very quiet, "you aren't welcome in my home."

"I didn't know I was going to end up here," Tango whispered back, his voice high and tense as a violin string.

"Go home."

Something flickered in Tango's eyes, something like determination. Helsknight hated that look.

"Uhm. N-no can do. Sorry."

"Can't." Helsknight said, barring his teeth at the Hermit. "Or won't."

Tango made a face at him, tight-lipped and tense. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Uhm. If. If I say won't, will you kill me?"

"Possibly."

"Then I can't. Definitely, definitely, physically can't." Tango looked around, scrambled to his feet, and dashed to Helsknight's bed. He, admirably, only winced a little when he set his spawn -- probably worried hels worked like the nether, and the bed would manage to explode somehow. With a bit more confidence this time, Tango stated again: "Can't."

"I can break that." Helsknight seethed quietly, and tried very hard not to grind his teeth. "It would piss me off. I like being able to sleep here. But I can break that, and send you back to Hermitcraft."

"But you don't want to do that," Tango said nervously. "Because-- uh-- you'd have to kill me, and Tanguish would be really, really upset about that."

"Tanguish isn't here. So either run home, or I will... escort you there." Helsknight put on his most wicked grin, and placed his hand on his sword meaningfully.

Tango staggered a step back away from Helsknight, somehow managing to go paler than he already was. The redstone freckles adorning his face sparked, and the flame of his hair took on a slightly green cast. The idiot Hermit was apparently made of very stern stuff, though, because he didn't flee for the nearest reflection. He took a few seconds to breathe. He had his own sword, a fact that Helsknight only noticed because his hand twitched towards the hilt uncertainly. Helsknight wasn't alarmed. Tango didn't move like someone who knew how to use a sword well, and he was fairly sure the Hermit's hands were shaking so much he would drop it if he tried to draw it.

Tango swallowed hard, darted a tongue across his lips, and asked with only a minimal tremor in his voice, "Uh, T-Tanguish isn't here? Like, not here here, or like... Not in hels, here?"

Helsknight narrowed his eyes. "Is he supposed to be?"

"He left my place yesterday, and said he would be back in a few hours," Tango explained quickly. "I thought-- like, you know, maybe he decided to wait until morning? But. He didn't come back. And I got worried. He. You know. He tells me if he can't make it. It's-- all it takes is a reflection to talk. You know? And I did look in my reflection, but I couldn't see anything, which normally means he's not by one. It was just dark."

Tango crossed his arms. It was a gesture that somehow made him look smaller.

"I thought-- I hoped-- you know. Hopping through the reflection. I could just check on him. Make sure he was okay. I think. I think maybe it just took me to his spawn point."

Tango thought that statement over, then flashed Helsknight an incredulous, almost horrified look, "Why is his spawn point your bed?"

"Tanguish was supposed to be with you," Helsknight frowned.

"You haven't seen him?"

"No." Helsknight rested his hand on his sword hilt, mostly just so he wouldn't fidget. "Could he have gone back to Hermitcraft and you just missed each other?"

"I checked," Tango said, shaking his head. "I have... X gave a few of us console access. I did a few scans... Is there. Anyone you know with that kind of access for hels?"

"Hels and Hermitcraft are different places." Helsknight wrinkled his nose. "Maybe Evil X?"

"Cool! We'll talk to him then!"

"Oh sure," Helsknight spat derisively, "I'll just go knock on the front door to Evil X's tower and ask politely for admin access, will I?"

Tango grimaced. "Will he not... Like that kind of thing?"

"Oh he'd just love it. One more thing to hold over my head." Helsknight snorted. "It wouldn't work anyway. I have a pact that says I can't directly oppose him. If he, for the gods know what reason, has Tanguish, and I knew--" Helsknight made a parrying motion with his hand. "It's better if I don't know. Keeps my hands from being tied."

"Huh," Tango leaned back against the wall, slightly more at ease. Helsknight wasn't sure if he liked the fact that the Hermit was getting comfortable. "I kind of figured you and X-- uh, Evil X, would be friends."

[jezabelle9299]

Intimidating S.R x FEM! reader

Overture-While you're cataloging a new collection in the archives, a young Spencer Reid wanders down in search of an art print stored in a different archive.

Inspired by the opening of season 2 episode 14 'The Big Game', when Gideon visits the Smithsonian to look at Havell's Audubon paintings. (We're going to pretend this isn't the episode Reid gets kidnapped in) Later piece is inspired by any of the many times prostitutes flirt with Reid throughout the early seasons. I looked at a few maps and online catalogs of the museums current collections to kinda figure out how long it would take to walk there, and what pieces are stored where, but it might not be 100% accurate so don't hold me to it.

Cws- Brief mentions of robbery and prostitution (separate occasions)

A/N- This has been bouncing around my brain like a DVD menu screen, I'm so excited about it. I'm a museum studies major so I'm making this girl live all of my dreams.

Your favorite part of the job by far, was cataloging the new pieces. Whether they were from other museums or private collections, unpacking those boxes let you indulge in a bit of nosiness everytime. This particular collection was from a recently closed exhibit, so you were doing the overnight shift. No one else was in this part of the museum, and your boss was doing a showing of some prints to a collections enthusiast so you had the place to yourself. 

You threw on some headphones and got to work, once you finished this you could go home. You’d just cataloged and packed the first half of the pieces, but as you were about to start on the rest, you saw something move out of the corner of your eye. Archives were a slightly creepy place to be at night anyway, the shelves looming over you, and the underground structure providing little light outside of your small workspace, but that was definitely unusual. When you finally turned around, there was a full-on stranger walking towards you. He was about your age, but he definitely didn’t work here, you would’ve remembered 

“Jesus! Walk louder! I didn’t hear you come down here.” 

“I called out twice to try and see if there was anyone down here.”

“Point taken.” You shrugged it off, you’d never seen him before. He definitely didn’t work here, he was cute and about your age. You’d remember him. You both stood there just kind of looking at each other, not fully sure what would happen next.

“Are you going to like— rob me now? Or maybe introduce yourself?”

“Oh! Sorry, my name's Spencer Reid, I was here with a colleague. He was looking at some ornithology prints upstairs, and he told me to come down to find—well you I assume, and get the last print in the set, and ask for directions to the coffee machine?”

“Sure! Just come over here and I’ll look it up for you.” You set down your clipboard to head back to your little desk, the only one with the lamp still on. 

“So, what exactly are you looking for?”

“It’s a Robert Havell, Frigate Pelican.” You typed in the name into your system to make sure, but you knew now why your boss didn’t come to get it himself. It wasn’t in this museum, it was in the archive under the Renwick gallery, almost a mile away. 

“Alright, I can be back with it in like an hour, it’s at the gallery on 17th street. This was a split collection and it’s still in that archive. There’s a coffee machine down the hall on your left, and I can meet you back in my boss’s office.”

“An hour? Are you walking this late at night?” 

“Yep. But I’ll go as quickly as possible.”

“I can’t in good conscience let you walk that far by yourself this late at night, would it be alright if I came with you?” 

“Alright! Only if you want to though, I promise you don’t have to.”

“I want to, if that’s ok.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” You smiled at him, and while you were grabbing your keys and ID, he went from relieved you said it was ok, to completely red at the idea of being around you alone for the next hour. He was stuck in place as you passed him and got halfway down the hall, before he started running to catch up. 

“Where exactly are we going?”

“We need to go up the elevator, through the garden, and then it’s pretty much a straight shot down 15th and through Lafayette park.”

“I thought we could get through the archives?”

“We could, but it would take longer. I get distracted easily, and it’s a nice night out anyway.”

*****

About halfway through your walk, you’d already felt like you knew him. When you were passing through a particularly busy part of the street, someone called out to you. Well not you, they called out to Spencer. 

“Hey cutie, you’re back. I told you I’d remember you.” A woman in high heels, a fur coat, and shorts entirely too short for the chilly weather, called out for him. You didn’t place any judgment on her, but the look you gave Spencer. Shock, and trying your best to stifle laughter at his panic.

“Oh–um. Have a good night.” He rushed off, in his haste grabbing your elbow to pull you along with him. Once he’d gotten far enough away for his embarrassment to pare down, he let go of you, realizing with a whole new sense of self-consciousness that he touched you without even thinking about it. 

“That was not what it looked like. I swear– I was talking to her with my boss last week, we were doing interviews for a case; and she well– she called me cute, which is what that was about.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I would tend to agree with her anyway– you are pretty memorable.”

“I– thank you. You’re memorable too.”

You walked the rest of the way with Spencer almost trailing a half step behind you. You were so mesmerizing, he just couldn’t help it. 

By the time you finished the walk, arriving at the security booth to get back inside the archives, you already felt like you knew Spencer. 

“ID please.” The security guard spared a singular glance towards yours, and you realized you forgot to ask Spencer if he had his on him. 

“Oh I forgot they check IDs of any guests coming into the archives, you have your driver's license on you, right? Or any ID is probably fine. I didn’t even think about it.”

While you were rambling about it, Spencer pulled out his credentials, showed it to the guard as if it were nothing. Because he’s a federal agent -apparently- he didn’t need a visitor badge. 

“You’re in the FBI?”

“Yes?”

“How on Earth did that never come up on the twenty minute walk here.” You finally got moving again towards the art storage, now trailing alongside Spencer, more focused on him than looking where you were going. 

“It did.” 

“When?”

“Why did you think I was interviewing a prostitute?”

“I don’t know! I thought you were like– a lawyer or something. You’re so fancy! And nice! And you know– Young!” 

“I–you think I’m fancy?”

“You’re wearing a suit with a sweater vest at 9pm on a Saturday night.” 

“Fair enough. But no, I'm not a lawyer. I’m glad you think I’m nice though.” It was your turn for your face to heat, and for you to hide your head. 

“Of course I think you're nice.”

When you finally found what you were looking for, you started heading back. He told you about some of his interests, but mostly he wanted to know about you. All you wanted to hear about was him though, he was so interesting. 

“What do you do for the FBI?” 

“Behavioral Analysis”

“Oh my god. Oh if I’d known that I would’ve changed everything I’ve done so far. That’s– I mean that’s so intimidating” And now he was laughing at you. 

“I don’t think anyone has ever described me as intimidating. Off-putting and annoying sure, but intimidating is new.” 

“You’re very intimidating. I’ve never met a guy who knew that much about historical art without even being in the field before, and now I know you could read my behavior? I must’ve come off like a total idiot like–15 times by now.”

“I don’t think so, quite the opposite actually.”

“Well thank you, but I was making a conscious effort not to make it clear I have a huge crush on you, and then you tell me you could tell anyway?” 

“You have a crush on me?”

“Well–yeah. I thought you could tell.”

“Not really.”

“Oh.” It felt like an eternity before he responded.

“I have a crush on you too, for the record.” 

“Yeah?”

“Most definitely.”

An older man came out of the building before you could walk back in.

“Reid! Where’d you go? JJ called, we need to leave for the office.” 

“Oh–um, I’ll call you? What’s your number?” You checked your lanyard and your pockets as best as you could while holding the flat-packed print. 

“I don’t have a pen or anything on me.”

“You can just tell me, I’ll remember it.”  After you said your goodbyes he disappeared again, and you went to put away the rest of the collection. Spencer called you the next morning to set up your first date, and though he never stopped amazing you, you wouldn’t describe him as intimidating anymore.