#Its all Flash's fault
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Once a Hero.
Chapter 1: Too late!
Warnings: Blood, Gore and violence. You can't sue me now!
â-------------------------
Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!
---------------------------
The Master of time leaned over the unmoving form of his young protegee, forceps needle and thread in hands. The old ghost deftly redid the stitches on the youngest torso. Slowly but surely closing the jagged âYâ shaped wound shut.
âHow did it come to this?â
All it took was one minute of inattention for the young Halfa's timeline to be put in jeopardy. In a single moment of inattention, Danielâs timeline tangled with another stray unstable one and merged. By the time Clockwork noticed, the timelines were already fused to the point of no return. Reality wrapped to fit the new Frankenstein series of events. So he did what he could, snip at some parts, and twist at others to make it so his protegee could have a chance of survival and still having a goodish timeline.
The gaping wound now finally shut, the old ghost went to treat the boyâs muzzle cuts and throat. The apparatus, when destroyed by the wail, had split open the right cheekâs flesh from the corner of the Halfas mouth, carving a morbid half smile. The boyâs tongue was bloody but could still be salvaged with diluted ectoplasm. The real problem was the throat; it was impossible to currently heal to a usable level with the concentration of ectoplasm he could safely use on Danny.
He was no Frostbite, but he was more than capable of putting back together the young ghost in a Time out. Daniel was too unstable to stay in the infinite realms, his core still too raw for pure Ecto. It would be like feeding a 10-year comatose patient a buffet after being kept alive via IV, transfer the concept to a fragilized and forcefully balanced core, and you get the idea. It was also a way to better realize the consequences of his mistake. But not to apologize, nothing would ever be enough to fix what Daniel had endured.
Clockwork stopped believing in apologies an eternity ago.
It all had happened so fast, Phantom had no chance of changing the course of events. Ironically, the current timeline was the best possible outcome after the incident.
While his protegeeâs original timelineâs parents would have been accepting of his heritage, the ones of the intruding unstable timeline were not. âMonstersâ would have been too kind of a word to describe them. Curiosity plagued individuals who could have given Dan a run for his money. The origin of a worldâs collapse, the cause of too many deaths, terrifying geniuses with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and slaves of their obsessions. Even their children didnât hold enough value for them to spare.
Thankfully, this world didnât come to that and was still salvageable. Unfortunately, too many people have already lost their lives and existence to his mistake.
It had been like any tranquil day in young Daniel's life. He woke up groggy after a night of patrolling, went to school, hung out with his friends, patrolled a bit, saved a few weaker ghosts, stopped a few accidents and then went back home. The young Halfa had planned to finally reveal his identity to his parents- with no little insistence and encouragement from his sister and the reassurance of the previous Freakshow happenings. (He, of course, delayed the moment as much as he could.)
Of course, Clockwork had already watched and analyzed all the possible futures caused by this decision. He had assured Danny that no harm would befall him.
And since every possible happening was in Danielâs favor, the ghost of time left the timeline out of his watch in favor of fixing yet another mess the Speedsterâs had caused.
Seriously, what kind of mentally challenged troglodyte would erase an entire timeline to enjoy a cheap burger in loop instead of buying another!
*Crack*
The forceps broke in his hand. The Ancient summoned another one. Moving to stitch the lacerations on his kingâs arms and legs.
It had, sadly, taken a while for the Master of Time to fix the Flash themed issues. It then took him an even longer while to salvage the tangled mess of timelines. He was far too late to save Dannyâs loved ones. Humans, even Liminals, were fragile.
â-------------------
The reveal had gone well at first, Jack and Maddie had accepted their sonâs new nature. But then the timelines merged, the Fenton parents became one with their alternates and the world was set ablaze.
The youngest Fenton was promptly drugged and knocked out, only to wake up on a dissection table. His parents and a few GIW agents circling him, tools in hand. The hours, maybe days, Daniel spent in these creaturesâ grasps were a nightmare made real.
His sister and friends tried to free him, only to be captured and fall victim to the same fate. Amity Parkâs younger population mutinied against the agency and scientists but quickly got shut down. Brutally. The city was deemed a lost cause and put on lock down. The elder Fentons and the GIW galvanized by their success, went after every single being standing in their way in the name of science and self-defense.
It was too much for the young Halfa. His every waking moment being haunted by monsters wearing the skin of people he used to know and love. To hear the same people who raised and loved him gloating at the harm they caused his fraid. At the harm they caused him, vindictive. Every ounce of strength Danny had went into figuring out a way to save what he had left. But alas, he was too late.
Everything culminated the moment the agents and his parents reentered the room for the how manyth time. Their make believe faces fixed into a cruel smirk, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and too many teeth. Were the ghosts truly the monsters ?
Black opaque bags were dragged into the room next. A dreadful foreboding feeling caressed his spine. It was different. What were they planning?! What did they do?!
Panic seized the Halfaâs heart, hair standing on end. Eyes wide and pupils dilating as he noticed the strong smell of copper permeating from the bags. His restrained limbs shaking at the realization of the truth he oh so wanted to deny.Â
The monsters kept talking, taunting and accusing him of something. Blaming him. But he didnât âhearâ them over his ever rising dread.
They opened the bags and his world came crashing down.
Three lifeless barely recognizable corpses. Chest opened in a bloody imitation of a butterfly. Missing limbs and organs. An innumerable number of lacerations. All indicators of a painful and slow death. But yet their eyes remained closed into acceptance and welcoming the relief of death.
He wailed.
Despite the muzzle, despite his already severed vocal cords. The wail coming from his very core blasted everything in his surroundings. The muzzle shattered, the monsters vaporized into a red mist and the walls became debris.
The building shook. The creatures in human skin panicked trying desperately to flee the premise but they were too late.
The latest experimental portal meant to be mass produced by the GIW resonated with the Wail and destabilized. The explosion that followed erased the facility and its surroundings and triggered the original Fenton portal which in turn wiped the city above off the maps.
Every single being died. The GIW agents, the Fentons, the citizens and some of the weaker ghosts. The stronger Phantom rogues werenât even in the range or succeeded in escaping. The Fentons and GIW were still âthankfullyâ useless when it came to capturing them.
And then there was Phantom.
Unfortunately or fortunately for him.
Forever the exception.
--------------------------------------
Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!
--------------------------------------
Author note:
Hello! Thank you for reading! This time I didn't write this at 3 am!
.
.
.
.
.
I wrote it at 5am! Insomnia says what?
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#angst#I wrote this at 5am#fight me i dare you#Once a Hero#chapter 1#If it makes no sense then it makes sense and I will bite you if you say otherwise#This is a fic not a full lab report#Gimme some slack#I am tired part 2#emotional damage clockwork#We dont talk about Danny#Don't worry I still have more 'emotional damage' tm to dish out to even some randoes on the streets#Its all Flash's fault#All this for a burger#It wasn't even the good ones#Almost forgot the warnings#tw blood#tw violence#tw death#gore trigger warning#cw: gore#Now you cant sue me#Poppywrites!#ghost king danny
106 notes
¡
View notes
Text
im having so much fun
#blinking#flashing lights#if i maintag this will i get bullied.....#resident evil#worth it#ethan winters#karl heisenberg#leon kennedy#blinkies#im SORRY for being obsessed with early 2000s culture its NOT MY FAULT#sometimes life is the pursuit of simple joys and sometimes that means making resident evil banners to decorate your profiles with.#i was gonna use these on my artfight but i might not use all of them . id look obsessed (i am)
107 notes
¡
View notes
Text
nooooo scully dont perpetuate the extremely exaggerated and false claims about phineas gageâs mental state and behavior after his brain was stabbed through in order to make a case that the man mulder is negotiating with is a psychopathic pathological liar who was never abducted by aliens, further making the other members of the surveillance and negotiation team doubt the positive impact of mulderâs actions haha youre so sexy
#xfiles lb#im not finishing the episode tonight. its late and the strobing is making my head hurt and i havent gotten much sleep lately so#listen its not Fully her fault. but also that shit did not happen to phineas gage#shes a fake FBI agent from the 90s and the writers clearly trusted the exaggerated portrayals of phineas culture has perpetuated#but also the guy who saved phineas gageâs life did fully believe in phrenology. it was 19th century so a lot of people did but still#anyway. funny show about aliens woo#the fucking. subliminal messaging episode was really funny tbh#imagine youre freaking out about having been exposed to the shit youre most irrationally afraid of and then#the tv screen in the doctors office just starts showing pictures of charles fucking manson#and flashing the words KILL âEM ALL at you. wouldnt that be fucking crazy. anyway im rod serling
2 notes
¡
View notes
Text
"literally why do people like the dancestors, all but two of them are boring one-note stereotypes entirely irrelevant to the story" < worlds most boring homestuck fan
#homestuck#i think you have to be deliberately obtuse to not see the potential and the general appeal of their mere existence#its not the fans' fault all but two of them were basically cast from the story immediately after their flash game intros HELP#i just dont think ppl in a fandom getting attached to irrelevant/underwritten side characters is weird enough to be all incredulous abt it#im being KINDA jokey in my wording? like you dont have to like the dancestors obviously#but im just sayin if you go outta ur way to . kinda shit on ppl who do like the dancestors bc 'theres more plot relevant characters to like#it just reads as very unimaginative to me#you can tell ppl who said this have never been in the mlp fandom /hj
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f5e21855be8276578ccf299d9aac7d7b/fa16e945911e2ccc-ac/s540x810/3b8fc9cf3e4e4fc11ab5eaf3146ef42af922a9cb.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7eb6a597ad92cbfa6d463fe2d9ef5175/fa16e945911e2ccc-22/s540x810/1f419deadc0fb09e9770be40a115c76eff657f47.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/973d6e3e68e84a3a625ac3bf6d306b6d/fa16e945911e2ccc-94/s540x810/36ade4464d844cca48365732dc7d446316c6a9be.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/22aaa1e8fbb2578ae61da4a1760de911/fa16e945911e2ccc-2b/s540x810/b49c3cdec37b0ff59961274b6a67cb0ea2b04353.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5ea56b0050e5bc834f1152bffe043cc4/fa16e945911e2ccc-89/s540x810/9313a3f31231ad9d51a418653e5b9f9dbf99bc5d.jpg)
AAAAAUUUUGHHHRRGHHH CHROME HARD CRASHED ON ME AND I LOST EVERYTHING. i can never make a tumblr post without being inturrupted.
*mario voice* OK AUTISM TIME
i made some new ocs for cody and wanted to refine his artstyle!! yknow, make it more real!! and this is what i (or HE) came up with :3 i think i like this more than the original
these are the characters he plays the most in Oaksage, basically the MapleStory of this realm. he grew attached to them and eventually formed lore for these guys outside of the Oaksage world itself. they're a group of incompetent space pirates that suck at their job but get things done against all odds <3
i will have to put a liittle bit more detail in their THs but honestly i don't really NEED to.. this game and these characters are gonna appear only so many times within the actual story. but i still want to... i love little meaningless little details that only i will pay attention to <3
oh also! the last page of his sketches features a guy i haven't uploaded on th yet! it's name is Cheese :3 it's not actually *from* OA, he completely made up the design, however he just really wanted a silly mascot for his pirate gang to have! he likes drawing it a lot. silly weature enjoyer <3
#HOW DO I TAG THIS#there must be other people who make ocs for their ocs right#ngl cody i don't want people to think this is MY artstyle :/ i mean it technically is but. like. cmon. *insane asylum patient*#i mean i already explained that its within his style but yknow only so many people read descriptions#anyways i'm working on the canon sprites of these characters within the game!!!#i'm almost done with the first character and i really like how its coming out i can't wait to post them all when theyre done :3#i forget how fun pixel art is#art#digital art#oh he made this in a program names Splash 2004 btw!1!#yes i downloaded macromedia flash 2004 just to draw in his artstyle <3 I HATE IT. ITS FILLED WITH RIDDLES AND RUNES#it also crashes all the time#ok uhhhh.#yeah idk#he has more ocs but he hasn't finished them yet </3 CMON DAKOTA CHOP CHOP!!! this is all your fault
4 notes
¡
View notes
Text
To think i didnt gaf about you for months, Leaf from pokemon you have become a dear friend to me. I love you leaf.
#i love the 'to think i tried to kill you 2 times in this quarantine you have become my friend...i love you manuel' post#any time i go from neutral-dislike > like for a character or person that instantly flashes in my mind#when i want my idv teammates to go to hell only for us to have some crazy bonding moment i hear that picture in my mind#and to think i was going to kill us both because you threw the match before this...doctor that threw the match you have become my friend#it does require them to actually fix it though if youre a dick no amount of pinging âlets stick togetherâ is going to make me change my mind#but if you are very cute and actually try to be a good teammate finally...well i am a lover not a hater. what the hell. come here man#lets emote at each other and actually stick together. im not mad anymore but that doctor really will stay with me in my mind forever#top 10 worst to best teammates#as opposed to yesterdays faro lady who genuinely was mad at the rest of us for actually working together and wanting to help eachother.#like actually. i can't even comprehend this. she did 0 communication like all it took is 1 button press to ping her progress but no#she threw what probably wouldve been a win with her total lack of communication. and even then we rescued her.#but when we went back for another person she was in post match complaining that we got a draw for trying to help#1. this is qm bro 2. it was support and actually fun when you have any amt of team spirit 3. ITS YOUR FAULT.#i asked her why doesnt she worry abt the fact she threw the game and she instantly left. girl go to hell.
1 note
¡
View note
Text
Maybe i am so quiet and invisible with my appreciation that it gets mistaken for active ignoring. Or maybe i am just not good enough after all.
Oh... We've been here before havent we?
#depression tag#i can hear them again saying 'if you weren't weird we wouldn't be bulyling you! it's your fault! YOU need to change!''#no wonder i have been feeling ao absolutely empty and miserable#after all its my fault and after years of telling myself that it wasn't my fault- it is my fault NOE#And it makes me wonder if it was my fault back then too after all#maybe in the end i need to accept i will never meet new friends. just have the few ones i made years ago that stuck by my side#if anyone does read this: i am sorry for sounding so negative#just has not been a good-.... 3? years by now#i cling to the flashes of hope and happieness and it drives people away
0 notes
Text
rereading the beginning of green lantern (2011) and knowing itâd be so so easy to fix everything wrong with hal and sinestros characterization in green lantern (2023) because despite apparently being bffs with geoff Jeremy just canât seem to let it go that sinestro isnât a cheap mindless two-bit villain anymore and hal isnât a weird cliched action hero
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2f9b71c464b5b6dd769e5c4c86aca956/6191614e5ab4bb58-70/s540x810/384bdc908de2b5ca4ff0c6264ad1115513b29169.jpg)
#listen LISTEN I have my reasons#obviously sinestro is still too proud to actually ask for help but geoff had it right that heâd just#manipulate hal into making it seem like he was forcing hal to help him instead of outright asking#while also making it seem like he had the upper hand in the whole deal all the while#LISTEN.#Geoffâs gl had its fault but god. he could write.#Jeremy can too going by his flash so far. so Iâm confused.
1 note
¡
View note
Text
Part two of the Lavender Marriage au! Considered adding smut to this but I chickened out lmao if the ending is abrupt itâs because of that đââď¸
The four men are fuming.
Since witnessing the lip-lock battle, theyâve been stewing in barely-contained anger. Every time they see you- on your porch in one of those sweet sundresses, humming to yourself as you water the flower boxes or hand them freshly-baked cookies- theyâre consumed by a burning desire to tell you the âtruthâ about your cheating husband. But the ring on your finger, and your seemingly cheerful demeanor, stop them every time.
Still, theyâre restless. Itâs wrong to let you live in ignorance like this. But also, itâs not their business even if they want it- even if they want you. The thought of ruining your cozy life, despite your husbandâs unfaithfulness, isnât an easy one to swallow.
It becomes easier to think of admitting it all to you with each passing day, though.
âHeâs walking around like heâs done nothing wrong! The bastard. How does she not see it?â Kyle grumbles, gesturing wildly with his tea mug. He grits his teeth, watching your husband saunter inside the house without offering to help you. He just puts down a plate of steak Kyle knows is too fucking cooked. Heathen. Bastard. Ughhh.
âSheâs either blind or loyal to a fault,â Johnny agrees, sprawled out on the couch, looking far more despondent than usual. âBreaks ma bloody heart, lads. Sheâs makinâ us lemonade anâ cookies, anâ heâs aff canoodlinâ wiith some bloke under her roof.â
Simon grunts, his eyes narrowing as he joins Kyleâs side. âWhat kind of man cheats on her? SheâsâŚâ He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence, but everyone knows what he means: Sheâs perfect.
Meanwhile, John leans back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully on a cigar. Heâs been unusually quiet, though itâs clear heâs just as agitated, fist clenching on his lap. Finally, he speaks, his tone commanding.
âWe wait until he leaves,â he says, much to the othersâ dismay. âWe donât meddle now. If she finds out on her own, weâll be there for her. Until then, we keep our mouths shut.â
The others grumble, but they nod in agreement. For now.
You, meanwhile, are oblivious to the internal warfare raging next door. Your days are filled with your usual routine of pretending to be the dutiful wife, gossiping with the neighborhood ladies, sweetly cooing about your hardworking husband, and pretending you donât know they will gosspi about you after you leave. On the way, you also deliver a basket of homemade muffins to your handsome neighbors.
Such good men; they didnât even yet know they were your little kitchen rats to taste-test everything you make for the annual baking contest. This year, that bitch Beatrice will not win and you swore it.
âOh, these look incredible,â Johnny says when you hand over the basket. He flashes you a cheeky grin, and you canât help but smile back, cheeks warm. âYâknow, if yer husband does not appreciate all this, I might just have ta steal ye away, lass.â
You laugh, waving off the comment as a joke, but the other three men go rigid. âNot the time, mate.â Kyle mutters, elbowing Johnny, though you really donât notice. Their house is coming along so nicely and so fast; the perks of having handy men as its owners, you suppose.
Later that day, while youâre trimming the hedges of your precious little garden , you spot Simon working on their roof. You catch him staring at you- not that you blame him, you are wearing your one of cutest skirt and top- and you give him a small wave. He almost falls off the roof even if he does wave back, so you decide to just focus on the damned hedges and hopefully avoid any more incidents.
Theyâre so distracted by your lovely self that they almost forget their rage toward your husband. Almost. Because just as Price and Johnny are helping you carry bags of groceries back to your house, your husband- traitorous bastard- walks out of the house all patient and whistling.
âBe back soon, honey! You know how long my business trips take.â your husband calls over his shoulder, giving you a quick wink before he hops into a car and drives off.
Unbelievable.
The tension is palpable. John glares. Johnny looks like heâs seconds from sprinting after the car. Simon mutters, âUnbelievable,â under his breath from where he and Kyle are watching from the window.
âOh dear,â you sigh, though on the inside you are very happy. You know your husbandâs boyfriend has a nice surprise picked for him- you helped get it, after all- and now you have the house all to yourself again. Perfect.
You turn to John, batting your lashes up at him and it is as if all his anger melts away. âBe my guests this evening, John? Iâd be terribly lonely, all by myself in this big house.â
John really, truly, fucking hates your husband for doing this to a precious, lovely thing like you. But at least it means theyâll be the ones in your company.
âAlright, doll,â he nods, fond as he watches the grin stretch across your face. âLet me just go tell the muppets, then weâll come by and help.â
âThereâs no need-â
âI insist, sweetheart.â
That evening, as promised, the four of them come by to âkeep you companyâ and help. Youâre in your element, flitting around the kitchen in an apron as you serve drinks and chatter away, oblivious to the tension radiating from the group. You are practically glowing; your pretty flowers were complimented and the food looks so good you canât wait to post it on your instagram.
Simon leans against the counter, arms crossed, staring daggers into the walls- into the portraits of you and your husband. Kyle is poking at one of the cookies you made like itâs done something to offend him, his mind adrift. Johnnyâs chopping away at vegetables, muttering under his breath and wishing it was something else under his knife. And John? Heâs nursing his whiskey like itâs the only thing keeping him sane. It might as well be. You talk so nicely about your husband and what heâs customized for you in the kitchen, still so unaware of the truth.
John contemplates just telling you right then and there, but then it happens.
The front door swings open, and in strolls your husband, laughing loudly with none other than his boyfriend- the one the group saw kissing. Theyâre holding hands, both grinning like idiots.
âSorry weâre back so soon!â your husband calls out, completely unbothered by the fact that your house is now hosting four very large, very angry military men. âI forgot my wallet-â
The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when he notices the four men staring at him, expressions ranging from pure disbelief to murderous rage. His boyfriend freezes too, glancing nervously between you and the men like heâs walked into a firing squad.
âWhat the bloody hell is this?â Johnny practically shouts, pointing between the two men with the knife. âYouâve got the audacity to bring him here? Here?â
Kyle crushes the cookie when he slams his fist on the table, standing abruptly. âUnder her roof? After all sheâs done for you? Again?â
Simon doesnât say a word because he truly doesnât need to- heâs just staring, fists clenched, practically vibrating with barely-contained fury.
John finally speaks, his voice low and dangerous, pulling your surprised self against his side protectively. âYouâve got some confessing to do.â
Your husband just⌠blinks, then glances at you. âWait, you didnât tell them?â
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. âI didnât think it would come up like this.â
âTell us what?â John demands, his tone sharp. He is still glaring at your husband and the boyfriend
You wave your hand dismissively, like this is the most normal thing in the world with a soft sigh. âOh, weâre not really married for love, John. Itâs just for the benefits- yâknow, keeping his parents off his back and mine off mine.â
The room falls silent. Dead silent.
âWhat?â Simon finally growls, his voice low and dangerous. All this timeâŚ
Your husband grins sheepishly, wrapping an arm around his boyfriendâs shoulders. âYeah, Iâm gay. This is my boyfriend. Heâs great, isnât he?â He says, kissing his boyfriendâs cheek.
Johnny looks like heâs just been hit with the frying pan the vegetables heâd been chopping was meant to go in. âYer what?â
Kyle stares at you, wide-eyed. âYou knew? This whole time?â
You shrug, popping a cookie into your mouth. Ohh, Beatrice should count her fucking days. âOf course I knew. We planned the whole thing together. Itâs not that complicated, really.â
Simon mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse.
âAnyways, we do have places to be,â your husband sighs. âIâll just get my wallet and leave you all be to your date.â When he returns with his wallet a few minutes later, he kisses your forehead. âBye, love. I snuck some of the cookies too- Beatrice is absolutely not winning this year, trust me.â And then he leaves at last.
John exhales sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. âLet me get this straight,â he says slowly. âYouâre married but itâs just⌠out of necessity, and youâve just been⌠pretending to love him?â
âExactly!â you say brightly, clapping your hands together. âSee? Not so hard to understand.â
The four men just stand there, utterly gobsmacked.
âYou mean to tell me,â Johnny starts, pointing an accusatory finger at you after placing the knife down. âthat weâve been stewinâ for weeks over a cheatinâ husband that doesnât even exist?â
âPretty much, yeah,â you reply with a giggle, pouring a drink. Your eyes widen then. âBut you cannot tell anyone here, in this shitty town, about this!â
âWe wonât, love, promise.â Kyle groans, slumping back into his chair. âI need a bloody drink.â And then he perks up when you slide him the drink you just made. ââŚfucking lifesaver you are, love. Thank you.â
Simon just shakes his head, muttering, âUnbelievable.â under his breath.
John sighs, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go. âYouâre going to be the death of us, doll.â
You grin, completely unfazed. âOh, come on, boys. Itâs not that bad.â
The four of them exchange a look- one of disbelief, exasperation, and maybe just a hint of relief. Because as much as theyâre reeling from the truth, one thingâs clear: youâre technically single. And that, at least, is something they can work with.
#noona.writes#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#poly!141 x reader#poly!141#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#gaz x you#gaz x reader#soap x you#soap x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mctavish x you#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#cod imagine#john price x you
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/843508e104dcea3f6b2c52738a221d11/cce42a3255a9d613-97/s540x810/f899952f5b74c8604dabe34ca88b55923b6aec4f.jpg)
âWhatâs got you so grumpy?â
Sukuna dodges your finger. It fails to meet its destination of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, earning a frown from you before you huff and try again.
He looks up from his phone with an irritated glance when your fingertip digs into his face.
âWhat are you talking about?â He grunts.
He knows exactly what youâre talking about. Normal Sukuna is irritable enoughâgrumpy Sukuna is about as bad tempered as a hornet whoâs had its nest kicked. (Which is to say: heâs pretty fucking unfriendly at the moment.)
âYouâre sulking,â you point outâand that statement earns a sharp glare from him as you seat yourself on his lap. (Still, he makes room easily for you, leaning back on the couch and putting his phone down to the side so his hands can rest on your hips. Grumpy Sukuna is never grumpy enough to push your body awayâif anything, itâs the one way to get him less agitated).
âIâm not fucking sulking,â he says. Itâs almost petulant, but you have enough grace to spare his dignity and not point it out. âI donât sulk.â
âAre you sure?â You raise a disbelieving browâhe clicks his teeth at the way you choose to question him, but it softens considerably when your lips peck his jaw delicately. âYou look pretty sulky to me.â
âGet your eyes checked.â
âCanât. Then I might see you for all your ugliness. We wouldnât want to throw years down the drain once I come to my senses do we?â
Itâs his turn to raise a brow, sarcastically snorting as you give him a cheeky wink. âIf you wanna try ân be a smart ass, at least be realistic about it. Saw you checking me out just this morning through the mirror.â
âMaybe you need your eyes checked,â you huff, âI was not checking you out.â
âPretty sure you were,â he smirks, lips pulling into a haughty grin. Getting under your skin with his smugness is about the only way to cheer him up, it seems, because he looks rather pleased when he adds, âitâs okay. Donât blame ya for beinâ possessed by my impressive physique.â
âToo bad your personality isnât as dazzling,â you quip back easily.
Itâs meant to be lighthearted, of courseâbut it seems to be the wrong thing to say. Quite wrong, in fact, because as soon as the words escape you, he tenses before locking his jaw.
Thereâs a flash of something in his eyes. Something you donât think youâve ever seen in Sukunaâs faceâdoubt. Itâs a little odd, in all realness. Sukuna is not a doubtful person. Heâs confident, and heâs confident enough that itâs almost to a fault. Heâs cocky and smug and sometimes a little too self-assured for it to be considered good for his health.
Itâs a bit unsettling to see his face almost fall at something you say, especially when you just say it for the sake of light banter.
âYeah?â He chuckles dryly. It sounds dangerously self-deprecatingâenough that it makes you frown. âGood thing I have my abs to keep you glued to my side then, huh?â
âWell, itâs not just your abs,â you hum, one hand smoothing over his shirt to feel the ridges of his muscles through the shirt. âYour boobs are pretty great, too.â
To prove your point, you give his left pectoral a gentle squeeze. He scowls before shoving your hand away as blush creeps along the back of his neck.
âYou fucking freak,â he mutters.
Something is bothering him. You know you canât directly ask it out of him, otherwise heâll deny it left and right, but something is bothering him. Sukuna is not good with words or emotions. In fact, heâs pretty awful at anything that has to do with anyoneâs feelings. (Heâs better about yours more than otherâs, but heâs pretty far from good.)
You donât mind. Thereâs something oddly charming about witnessing the way he navigates softening up for youâitâs like watching a baby take their first steps. Wobbly. Slow. Unsure. Pretty badly executed, but endearingly rewarding all at the same.
Except, this time, itâs not your emotions heâs navigating. For some reason, yours are easy than his own. Navigating yours means he doesnât have to try. He knows you better than he knows himself. Knows when your feelings are hurt by the twitch of your brows alone. Knows youâre sad by the dimness in your eyes. Knows youâre pretending joy when your laugh is quieter than usual. Knows youâre faking it when your smile is a much more tight lipped and a less bright version.
But his own feelings are complicated. A lot more than he cares to try and understand them for. In true Sukuna fashion, he always aims to ignore his problems until they seemingly disappear.
But youâre too difficult to let that slide. He brushes things under the rug, and you pull the rug from under his feet and make him fall face first into his problems.
âHey,â you nudge him, cupping his face with your hand gently, âwhatâs gotten into you? Itâs weird when youâre not pissing me off a couple of times every hour.â
âAnd thatâs supposed to be a good thing?â He challenges, like your words seem to tick him off more, âwhat are you sittinâ here for if Iâm always pissing you off?â
Oh, you think. So thatâs what it is.
You smile, humming before you gently tilt his face up. Something vulnerable is attached to that frown of his. Like heâs waiting for your answer because he needs something to hold onto. Some metaphorical lifeline where your feelings are attached to his own, just to keep you chained together. Where youâre always somewhere that he also is. Where he doesnât have to care about his emotions because what you feel is what he feels, too, and as long as youâre okay, so is he.
But you care. You seem to care a pretty great deal because you lean in and brush your nose against his as you kiss his lips softly.
âWho cares if you piss me off?â You snort, âI piss you off better. Iâm pretty good at it.â
âYou are,â he agrees instantly.
You give him a fleeting huff against his mouth as you mumble, âyou donât have to agree so fast.â
It pulls a small laugh from him, making his arms snake around your waist and tug your body closer. Chest to chest, heartbeat thumping in two, synchronized rhythms.
âWhat happens when Iâm all old and expiring and my abs are gone?â He raises a brow. You hum, stroking a thumb along his cheek as you smile and admire him.
âWeâll still be pissing each other off, I bet.â
âThatâs supposed to be good?â He repeats, this time much more unsure. Anyone else could hardly catch the air of hesitance in his words, but you catch it instantly.
âWhy not?â You shrug, âit always worked for us, hasnât it?â
âYeah,â he scoffs, âthatâs until it doesnât.â He spits the words out, not meeting your eyes. Itâs like they taste acrid is mouth and he canât bring himself swallow them down.
You donât say anything. Instead, you lean in and just press a line of kisses from his chin to the corner of his lips, purposely dodging his mouth and littering small, delicate pecks along his cheek. And then his forehead. And then the bridge of his nose.
Never his lips, though. And he gets increasingly frustrated by it.
âWhat are you waiting for?â He grumbles, eyeing you with a look that screams: quit fucking around.
You fight back an amused smile. âDoes it piss you off?â
âCourse it does. Kiss me properly or back off my faceââ
âCause you love me right?â You ask cheekily. He pauses, thinking on it for a moment before slumping wearily.
âAnd if I do?â
âYou piss me off too. Because I love you too,â you whisper, forehead against his as your hands cradle his cheeks. Because you do.
When he texts late, and makes your blood boil, itâs only because you love him. When heâs brutally honest and doesnât say what you want to hear, youâre only mad because you care what he thinks so much. When heâs stubborn and refuses to meet you halfway, youâre only angry because thereâs no one else youâd rather cross the bridge with than him.
He pisses you off. You care enough to be pissed because itâs him. And when you piss him off too, he cares enough to deal with it because itâs you.
Itâs a funny, twisted little way to love and be loved, but it works. For some odd reason, it does. Itâs a seamless, smooth, crackless road.
You donât ever fix something thatâs not broken.
âThat doesnât make sense,â he sighs, resigning himself to your weird, roundabout explanation. You laugh, pinching his cheek as you grin brightly.
âThatâs because youâre a bit dim.â
âYeah,â he rolls his eyes, âokay. Anything else?â
âYeah, actually. I love you.â
He pauses. Swallows for a moment before his arms tighten their grip on your hips just a smidge before burying his face into your neck and mumbling, âme too. Love you so much, it pisses me off.â
âI like to get under your skin like that,â you stroke his hair, beaming as you add, âguess youâll just have to deal with it.â
His lips stretch into a small grin before a low, rumbling chuckle breathes itself against your skin. âGuess so.â
ââââââââ
a/n: insecure modern! au sukuna who doesnât admit it and refuses to acknowledge that heâs aware heâs difficult to love and canât understand why you love him but he also doesnât want to question it for fear of scaring you away is very near and dear to me and iâll be talking about it from my grave still. youâll just hear my ghostly voice spooking you through the night talking about how heâs a softie deep down under all the layers. like an ogre okay? ogres have LAYERS.
#ârivistyping!#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
the one
pairing: aegon ii targaryen x targ!reader
synopsis: thrown into madness, not one person can comfort the king of his thoughts. his sister wife left to deal with her grief. his mother for chooses not to heed his needs. his brother, gone in silver of the night. yet you, left forgotten stand in front of him, teary eyed.
notes: i gasped loud this episode!!
content warning: spoilers obvi for s2ep2, themes of grief and inferiority, targcest; if you are uncomfortable, please do not interact.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1b2f79d5452b8791417d5ac7a9dafb26/913a32759506d8f0-09/s540x810/8dfd451f63707d55ae41c38d5525f8fc83cf03fc.jpg)
The death of Jaehearys exhausted you.
Nothing prepared you for the shock and emotional consequences. It felt as though a giant sea storm had swept away your emotions and feelings of sense. Because in a way, you felt numb and unable to comprehend what you were feeling. It was either too strong or your denial in it that made you feel out of it. In the confidence of your home, the grand kingdom of your father and his grandsire before, suddenly you feel apprehensive about where you resided and the castle itself. Who to trust and not as a moment noticed in your head as your mind spirals down a rabbit hole.Â
Your nephew, a kin of your own, was dead.Â
He was murdered in cold blood. In the sanctum of your home, in the privacy of the royal rooms. It was your fault you were not by Helaenaâs side. Oh, your poor sister, the turmoil she mustâve endured in the small moments last with her son. A small piece of purity and semblance he brought into your little life and a beacon of what you strived for every day. Yet now, it has all turned to blood and dust. Used and tossed away like the sacs of bodies they would throw off dead soldiers in the aftermath of a tiring battle.Â
There you sat with a half cup of wine, undrank. You dared not step out of the chambers of your comfort. Not for long, your presence would be reminded of the council. You insist on every meeting that your presence would bestow better acquisition. In most eyes, the men divert their gaze from you.
In contrast, your wretched mother opens her mouth agape with hardly any words being supported. Your grandsire contrasts, always with an excuse that you should be needed elsewhere other than the higher discussion. How benign of you, dear granddaughter. But you are unfit for a position at court.
Otto Hightower would never speak those words directly. But you know in your heart and his intuition, the words are nearly there. You donât need an interpreter to translate what is said by the councilmen. Even if they are unaware, you understand all that is said. A tragic incident, Your Grace. The Kingsguard are doing their best to inspect all the members in the castle as we speak.
âI will have it! They will pay for this!â
The dried tears that swept down your cheeks felt sticky and annoyingly guilt-ridden of the events that had happened. You would not allow them to witness them. They were not worthy of your sadness. In grace, you hiked your dress over your feet to climb up to the doors. From where you were, you could discern the murmurs of Aegon and his hysterical yelling, absolutely mad with anger and rage. Respectfully so, the loss of his child was an unexpected and stressful one.Â
When the chambers open, the rest of the councilmen stop for a moment. Before you begrudgingly make your way to the center. âGentlemen,â You are at fault in giving away your tearful expression, the candlelight's of the chandeliers do your angelic features justice. And no noble would dare to speak upon its beauty and sorrow. All while, your lady in waiting, trails timidly behind you, head pointed down in respect. âYour Grace,â You address, and finally for a blind second, a glint of relief flashes on Aegonâs face. Finally, he must think, someone he trusts abides in the room.
âPrincess,â The Hand levels his chin, leaving a steady foot of your unforeseen appearance. Beside him, your mother lays agape in both deary and fortification.Â
The Queen stumbles on the syllables of your name, quietly. As if she was citing a wrongful plea of desperation. âIs- Is Helaena?â Of course, the last she saw you was in her bed chambers, coming in to console your sweet sister and her child. Alicent was running amuck, pulling on the fabric of her dress to prevent you from witnessing her privacies before. Luckily you didn't have to witness that.Â
âShe is with Ser Arryk and Jaeheara.â You breathed out, soft and mellow. You can tell by the exhale of your mother and grandsire's shoulders that deflating meant that their worries were at least accomplished. And a slight corner of your eye, your brother too relaxes in caution, aware of his wife and daughterâs whereabouts.Â
âGood good,â Alicent frantically nods as if trying to reassure herself that her child and granddaughter were safe. Ser Arryk was a noble knight, one who betrayed his twin to stay beside the kingâs side. That alone was enough to prove his loyalty and servitude. âThank you, my daughter.â You swallow with a gaping hole in your throat. The whole room felt the compacting of the many eyes directed at you and the Queen Mother.Â
âAnd what might be the reason for your intrusion on this council meeting, princess?â Ottoâs voice somewhat triggers a fight or flight response in you. Youâve dealt with similar situations before, wanting to be included in the war business. However this was different, the council was discussing matters of potential betrayal and the killing of your kin. You suddenly felt targeted for the offense of interrupting something crucial and overriding.Â
However, you know you should have a say in this matter. âShouldnât I be present when the death of my nephew has been informed to me merely hours ago?â There was a snap in your voice that many of them knew. Though some such as your mother and brother were accustomed to that sound more often.Â
âPerhaps it is best if the princess were with the Queen to rest away comfort and grief,â Maester Orwyle suggests only to infuse your temper.Â
In a quick turn, your lilac orbs strike an alarming resemblance to vexation and hostility. âWhy?â Your tone was sharp and accusing just as it was. The Queen Regent could only watch and stare mutely at your grueling pettiness. Lord Tyland and Ser Criston Cole dare not to look at you but at the maester. While Aegon, all the more slightly frustrated at Maester Orwyleâs comments, stops and waits for your dreadful retaliation like a venomous viper. Otto couldnât look more disappointed in you.Â
âThe death of your nephew is a tearful one, princess. And maybe you should stay within the quarters with the Queen for safety.â The maester does not falter in his reasoning, knowing how quick and ill-tempered you are similar to your brother was to retaliation. But his expression flickers in doubt shortly after you are seen to lay your palms on the edge of the end of the table. Itâs hard wooden material, clenched tightly around your hands as you glance up at the councilman with fury in your eyes.Â
âI am more capable than you think of me, Maester Orwyle. And I would be damned to sit in silence and pity for this horrendous murder!â You snarl, a frown forming at the edges of your lips. You were livid beyond this. Only when you want to be present in the decisions regarding your kin, did the council decline your way. Itâs insulting. âMy nephew should be avenged! To whoever ordered the murder!âÂ
âI wholeheartedly agree,â The Handâs inclusion is an attempt to bring a truce between the others who felt your presence as much of a disturbance. âBut we should not be hasty and leave every opportunity out in the open.âÂ
âThis is my son we are talking about,â Aegonâs hand came down with a thump on the table. Heâs since calmed down but you know there is still rage in his heart. The fuel of it burning and churning for the desire to find and kill whoever brought out the murder. âWe must search the grounds for traitors, find anyone who leaves the Red Keep, and capture them immediately!â
âOf course, Your Grace but we should consider what this would be for Rhaenyra,â Alicent reminds the room when she scans everyoneâs thoughts and faces. On the other hand, you stand uncomfortably, with the sense of your legs growing numb.Â
âThat bitch queen of bastards will pay!â The King screams, pointing with an accusative finger. âShe is on her throne, laughing at me for this! For the death of my son, I want her dead!â Itâs like a fire has been lit in your brotherâs mind. It flashes and flickers rapidly as he manages to strike and spit out outrage of his growing vengeance on the Black Queen. However quick his temper simmers and rises.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1b2f79d5452b8791417d5ac7a9dafb26/913a32759506d8f0-09/s540x810/8dfd451f63707d55ae41c38d5525f8fc83cf03fc.jpg)
The coming morning of Jaehaerys funeral drags his body to the Sept to be burnt in Targaryen tradition. More importantly, it is to sway the peopleâs opinion of Aegonâs claim and blame Rhaenyra for the tragic death. Spurs of propaganda flourish in the crowds as the chariot drags the casket of the fresh body, followed by the Queen and her Regent. What felt like discomfort and suffocation for Helaena only her no semblance through the entire morning. She is grieving and mourning in her own way. No one can understand the loss of a mother of her children. It is the tragedy she has felt for the first time and it stings her to her stomach. For most of the ride, Helaena could not breathe or look at the folk people, afraid of what they might do. Sheâd never left the Keep like this before, presented all fragile and glorious as the new Queen officially.Â
Even so, she knows you are more suited for the role. Helaena has thought of it many times where you shouldâve been wife to Aegon instead of her. She knows why her mother and grandsire chose her. It was because she was compliant and willing to do her duty as a lady wife. While you had no sense of duty. More or less, so did Aegon but at least she would elevate his image as King with her kind personality.Â
âHelaena,â You spoke, interrupting her thoughts amid her sewing. Your sister pauses and then looks at the piece she has been working on. It was a picture of purple lily flowers, something you had mentioned wanting to see from the grounds of the Highgarden. She thinks of you and subconsciously starts to sew a new patch of thread. Sheâs sweet to you like that, and you forever cherished that side of her. And it's a shame her softened voice always now came with a stutter and droop of a sob.Â
Helaena wakes up from her daze and greets you with a warm yet sombreros smile. âYou are well?â The question itself leaves bitterness off of your tongue because you should be asking her that. You know Helaena isnât one to openly express her emotions and thoughts proudly. As her sister, you honor that but also can become the maternal figure she needs within seconds.Â
âI should be asking you the same,â You smile, looking smug and all. And your sisterâs droopy eyes slowly lighten with glee. Her small frown turns upside down and suddenly you feel your heart fill with warmth and joy. âWhat has the Queen been sewing all this time?âÂ
âPurple lilies,â She gently shows you her work and focuses on your excitement. What she appreciates is your fascination with her skill with a thread and needle. You had no talent in it, much to your motherâs display. But you would gladly watch your sister sew for hours for the fun of it. âI remember you mentioning them a while ago. And I thought it would be pretty to make for you,âÂ
âHow thoughtful of you,â You plead with your gentle eyes, resting a hand on her thigh. You looked like you were going to burst into tears out of happiness for her nonsensical act. You act differently around her and the children, sometimes Helaena thinks you have two personalities. One with her family minus Aegon and another with everyone else. You were mushy and caring, nothing like yourself hours earlier in the morrow in the councilroom. She had heard you burst into a meeting, enraged by them claiming you as a disturbance to their discussion. Like the stubborn person you were, she knew you would rather stay and argue with them for hours. And that you, for her boy.Â
The Queen hums, delighted by your soothing presence in her slightly dimmed room. The room had been cleared of children's beds and toys. Now it lies barren with little to no furniture. The curtains did not change, they were arranged simply to allow some light into the chambers to let the children wake. But now, there would be none and it is left abandoned.Â
âHow is Jaeheara?â The whisper of your voice is the only thing sheâs heard after minutes of silence. Helaena does not reply immediately, knowing her thoughts are too invasive and terrifying to think about. The black gown she still has on feels tight and makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't want to remember the funeral. It was too much for her to reminisce about despite being hours earlier.Â
She makes another loop with bright purple stringing onto her needle. âShe is well and is accompanied by a Kingsguard during her lessons,â She makes sure to include the Kingsguard, knowing you have been adamant about the protection and security around Kingâs Landing. As of late, it felt as though the castle did not feel like home anymore. It became somewhat of a hollow skeleton of a dungeon. With many escape routes and corridors, people would walk in and out without notice. It terrifies her and knowing you, you would rather be killed than have another child murdered.Â
Her response pleases you however Helaena is aware of something else on your mind. She can feel it without looking at your face to know. Itâs your inseparable bond as a sister that you sometimes were astounded by. Helaena calls it a bond and maybe she is right. Your eyes are focussed on somewhere else and it gives her a moment to look at you. Your brows furrowed with a subtle curve of a scowl makes her believe you were having negative thoughts. Were you feeling guilty about Jaehearys death?
âWhatâs wrong sister?â Despite her knowing the reason, Helaena wants you to admit your remorseful thoughts. The veil that covered her face was no longer present and she could face you without barriers. Her lilac eyes look at you, softening at you.Â
âI canât help but think I am guilty of Jaehearys death,â You sound vulnerable, no other person would witness this side of you. Because you shielded this side of you. Your display of weakness was only meant for people like Helaena, close to you, unjudging and caring in your coping. Yet sometimes you think of your sinful thoughts of guilt to be an act of punishment. You sometimes felt you were meant to feel this way for not being present with the Queen and her children when it happened. Why couldnât you be a good sister and protect the ones you loved?
âYou should not be,â Her small palm cradles the side of your jaw, making your stare connect with her. Helaena is quiet and gentle in her expression of words. What she says always has an impact. She is a woman of few words and it makes her speech inspirational. âI- For anything, it was my part as a mother, for letting my child be murdered in cold blood-â
âNo of course not!â You were quick to retaliate to her pleas. She could not be responsible for such a horrific act taken against the crown. âHelaena, you did your best to protect your children.â
âYet I was asked to choose,â The bottom of her lips quivered, and eventually hot tears filled her waterline. âAnd I had no other choice!â
âYou were held at knifepoint,â You grasped the hand that held your jaw. Gently and slowly to make sure and emphasize her attention to you. âI wouldâve bursted into the room and offered myself if I couldâve. But you did the best you did as a mother to protect your children.â You gave her another tight squeeze.Â
âI had no other choice,â Her sobs slowly brewing. And the tears flowed and there was nothing you wanted to do other than comfort your dear sister. She was grieving like any mother. You would be present for her and give Helaena all of the world, to give away her sorrow. However, it is inevitable and you best offer her your condolences and feelings of heartbreak. Because you did love her children, Jaehearys and Jaeheara. The light and beacon of Helaena and Aegon's marriage.Â
Helaenaâs figure dwindled as she scrunched herself forward into a curling ball. The weight of her thoughts was too much. As a parent, she believed she failed the role she was meant to play. Her cries did not stop or steady in a rapid heartbeat. Any further, Helaena believes she wouldâve acted impulsively if not for you, holding onto her shoulders. You were gentle against her tragic and frail body when you allowed her head and shoulders to rest against your chest. Youâre silent in the comfort you gave. Because no words could pursue more than your actions. Being the more responsible and maternal figure, you became a weeping shoulder for Helaena to spout the rest of her worries and anguish.Â
You wonder what Aegon and his sorrows are.Â
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1b2f79d5452b8791417d5ac7a9dafb26/913a32759506d8f0-09/s540x810/8dfd451f63707d55ae41c38d5525f8fc83cf03fc.jpg)
Criston Cole was in a predicament. He failed as a Kingsguard to protect the royal family. And because of his absence, a dead prince was left at the doorstep of the king. Heâs ashamed in silence because he could not make any reason for where he was during the intrusion of the castle. His affair with Alicent was more than a passionate one. It consoled him and eased for the upcoming days of Aegonâs coronation and Rhaenyraâs horrific deeds. The knight was stuck in a situation he wished would not bring to the public eye. No one can know of his relations with the Queen Regent. Not when times were suspenseful and dire as to who to trust in the castle.Â
And so, after he challenges Ser Arryk to do the impossible and slay the Black Queen within her quarters of Dragonstone, he desires to focus on his plans with the king. The afternoon following the princeâs funeral, Ser Criston smoothes out the ends of his locks, recomposing his hysterical manner against the twin knight. Of, the accusations of treason against the king and the knightâs code. He should be honoring the Kingsguard words at the back of his sleeves by now. For all that has occurred to him, Criston wants to prove to the king he is capable of being essential.Â
The summer breeze is faint and noticeable to those in the Red Keep. Itâs open corridors and windows, it is the perfect spot for sunlight. The Kingsguard makes his way to Aegonâs chambers, where he plans to inform his schemes of sending Ser Arryk away to Dragonstone. In hopes, it would please His Majesty of the constant restless nights he has experienced.Â
But he nearly misses you. It takes a second for Ser Criston to take a step back and look back at what you have been doing. You, the princess, looking out of place in the training area of the stables. Where knights and stable boys fight and practice their combat. It was a place youâre likely forbidden to be, however, it has never stopped you. The knight knows of your ambitions to fight like your brothers. Youâre eager, more confident than your siblings to practice. He had suggested once to the Queen that she should allow you use of the sword. For self-defense and hobbies.Â
You practically begged Alicent to hold a sword in your hands. Your cute chubby cheeks as a small child were something he remembered sometimes. You were so eager then. He could still see it occasionally when you ventured to the training area, staring at the knights practicing their moves and defenses.Â
âAre you alright, princess?â Ser Criston appears behind you and youâre suddenly aware he mustâve been standing behind you for some time. He knows you come here to think and be reminded of the past. âThe morrow has been rather bleak has it not?â
âRather too bleak,â You groan, crossing your arms and rubbing your forehead in weariness. Youâre aware the Kingsguard is not allowed to probe your troubles further but you rather indulge. âThe day grows weary for the wavering support of the other Houses.â A quiet nod of endearment is seen from the knight as he reminisces about why they had exhibited the funeral exactly. To spread rumors and weaken the queen bastards' claim.
âIt will help us in the long run, princess,â He steps forward as you turn to stare at his gentle Dornish features. Maybe in another lifetime, you wouldâve fallen for him if he wasnât a knight.
âIs that what the Queen Regent said?â A switch and it was like your tone turned to bitterness the moment you mentioned your mother. Ser Criston feels his heartache at your sentiments to the Queen. She was your mother and loved you very much. Something you canât seem to appreciate whenever you open your mouth in front of the council. While she has complained and spouted worries of your deterring interactions, youâve taken glory in the distance between you and your mother. Ser Criston hopes one day you will reprimand that relationship.Â
âNo,âÂ
âTell me, why do you value her opinion so much?â He eyes at you shaking your head with a heavy scowl of disgust. Your hatred towards your mother ran cold and poisonous, under the depths of your hard-spoken shell of a heart. Maybe some part of you did care about the Queen. If there was, Criston had never been able to witness it, youâre too stubborn. And you know Alicent cherishes him deeply.Â
âShe has a kind heart,â The Dornish man cannot more than understand why you probe his opinion of your mother. Were you suspicious? Heâs served your mother for nearly a decade and gained her trust as her right-hand protector. Yet where was he when an intruder entered the castle grounds and left Helaena traumatized and crying?Â
You snarl a mocking laugh, âA kind heart?â Youâre staring at the Queenâs protector with discontent and failure. âShe plots and schemes to gain the people's trust over my brotherâs claim. What more is she than the Handâs right-hand puppet.â This is an alarming accusation because Ser Criston knows Alicent does not trust her father with her boys and daughters. You were an example of that. Whoever she plots with, he knows she takes into consideration who is affected the most. She was the Queen of course. Dainty and considerate of her subjects.Â
âAnother advantage we have over Rhaenyra, princess,â He reminds you of the whole reason why the council decided such a thing. Itâs grueling yet would sway the people in their favor towards the crown than that false liar of a ruler across the land. âUnderstand that everything she and the council decide is to gain more allies,âÂ
âBy simply lying to the public and creating more web of lies for us to be stuck in,â You probe and your lilac orbs glow in a dark tone. You could not stand the ploy they had used for Jaehaerys funeral. You think it was anything but honorable, to use your nephew as a cause and leeway to denounce your half-sister. Ser Criston gives you a look, only a parent would hold when their child does something to disappoint them. And even though he was not your father, he still felt utterly responsible and devoted to you as one. He has seen you grow from a child to a woman. Heâs aware of your struggle in your place at court. He was there when you desperately wanted to hold a bow and arrow, practically crying to your mother on your knees. He was also there to comfort you when you accidentally drove your dragon into a terrible accident. Criston Cole felt some kind of platonic love over you, despite you never feeling the same way. â
Yet he couldnât help but agree with you. âYouâre right, princess. But it is the only way to convince the townsfolk of our cause. We need their support to win this coming war.â He sees your shoulders slumped, most likely growing tired of talking back and forth of their intention to false news. You hated how everyone agreed to it wholeheartedly.Â
âWe need more than the support of the townsfolk to win a war,â Your lips turn to a thin line, contemplating all the reasons why you had to be on the wrong side of justice. âWe have dragons, that is how we win a war.âÂ
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1b2f79d5452b8791417d5ac7a9dafb26/913a32759506d8f0-09/s540x810/8dfd451f63707d55ae41c38d5525f8fc83cf03fc.jpg)
Nightfall was as unanticipated as it was wanted. The funeral and rumors from the council made it unbearable to walk past servants and nobles without being reminded of it. There were many times you wished to stop in front of the people and shout in their faces. There would be no denying it all. However, you were done with it. You were tired of receiving the same piece of news and rumors. It made you hereditarily furious and petty like a child. But no violence has been spilled. Instead, you could only clench your palms, aggressively and move on with a faint scowl. A puff or two would break your cover.Â
Moreover, the servant girls and maids knew what made you tick. The type of gossip you hate to talk and listen about. Since youâve lived in the castle for the entirety of your life span. So regardless of whether they spoke of todayâs events or not, people knew you were not in a great mood. More or less you were agitated, imitating, and not to be consoled.
You made it your routine to visit Helaena before going to bed. When you were younger, you and your sister often paid visits to your mother and sometimes your father if present. Queen Alicent would soothe your worries and nightmares while Viserys sat in silence, unable to speak due to the pain. Yet now, that was before you and Helaena slept in the same room. She was Queen now and had a separate room with her children. It was you who made it customary to ease her worries at night and say goodnight to her children. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, her beautiful children. Even now, after everything had happened, you wanted to honor your promise to visit the new Queen.Â
The granite tiles were cold. You could feel it despite wearing soft padded shoes. Your garments were loose and free from the restraints and pains youâd worn for the day. But somehow it made you feel anxious and oddly vulnerable out in the open. Of course, it was natural to feel this way after what happened. But everything, even the times you felt the most safe was now invaded by thoughts of fear and concern. You swallowed whatever security you had and moved along the balcony inside Kingâs Landing. The royal rooms were all the same, but you knew which belonged to whose. You knew which rooms were your motherâs, your sisterâs, which had the best hiding spots, and which had the quickest way out of the city.Â
Although whose room brought you the most curiosity was the one in front of you. In the distance, where you stood, a figure of green exits out of the room and disappears into the darkness. Your mother. Alicent did not seem to be in a rush to have exited Aegonâs chambers nor did she look content coming out of it. It looked as though she had mistaken his room for another.Â
Hastily your paused movements began to quicken. As you tip-toed towards the doors of your king, you twist the knob and a soft creak makes you curse out of anonymity. The bed chamber was dimly lit and the fireplace illuminated a gorgeous orange dew that covered half the room in warmth. The drapes of the windows were slightly closed, making the silhouette of Aegon, hunched over more evident. He leans in a cushioned chair by the fire and you can see his unsecured locks, shape the sides of his face.Â
You quickly realize your brotherâs sobbing, saddening and heartbreaking. For all the things he was, Aegon did not deserve to lose a child. You understood very much as him that Alicent had planned his coronation for a long time. Yet now that it has happened, tragedies come down like dominoes in a panic. Lucerys has died on dragonback. And now Jaehearys was murdered in cold blood. Both are innocents from the result of this pretentious battle for power between Rhaenyra. It is when you shut the door behind you with a faint click, you make yourself known to the king.Â
âAegon,â Itâs a whisper with no silence. Covering his face to shield his tears, Aegon does not dare to look at you. He looks ashamed and can only stare down, lost and in failure. You understand his dismissal of your presence. No one should see their king as weak like this. Not even his closest kin and mother. Only that his mother has witnessed this scene a multitude of times over the years of watching over her son. Still, you were not the type to witness Aegon at such a low point like this.Â
Nothing. You wanted nothing from him, seconds ago only curious about his profound discussion with your mother, who did not seem to speak to him at all. Something about that makes your heart churn at the Queen Regent. You walk slowly and only when you finally face him, his gaze is still on the floor, unable to lift his head to say anything. Go away! Youâre making a fool out of yourself.Â
Instead, you closed the gap that separated the two of you. You clasped his neck and held it firmly in a consoling manner. His weeping only grew louder the moment he felt your touch, so comforting and soft. His hands eventually wrap themselves around your waist and he rests the side of his head against your stomach.
Only you can soothe him like this. Itâs discovered to be the most effective way for Aegon to calm down, your touch perhaps was the solution to it. It was never touched upon, this consolation you had with him, there were rare occasions when the prince had become too drunk to return to his quarters to have gone to yours instead. There were times when your brother wanted to hide and be away from your conniving mother and her insults. Sometimes heâd cry, drink, or rant about her inconsolable expectations of him. Because truly you are the closest to understanding that feeling. The feeling of being unwanted and as though you were not doing enough of your duty to care. Of course, you cared, you did everything for your family. Still, it could never be enough to put a smile on your motherâs face. And more evidently that of your grandsire.Â
âIâm sorry,â You let out a dreary breath, rubbing Aegonâs hair. He sniffles, allowing his forehead against your stomach. He closes his eyes and lets out a sad laugh that turns into a cry. Heâs lost so much in a matter of days. No one to comfort him, and his wife silently grieving in her own time. His mother forever abandoned her efforts. And his brother disappears with no explanation. Now here you were, the one he found relying on.
âI tried so hard,â He cries out, snot and tears making his speech muffled and disproportionate. âYet everything has backhanded and slapped me in my face!â You feel a quiver on your lips when he speaks those words. Your heart burns and aches and maybe finally, you can put away your pride and be gentle. You reach behind where his hands are secured by your waist. Sliding them down to allow you to kneel to his level. With his red-shot eyes and puffy cheeks, Aegon looks like he wants to give up everything now and then. Heâs never looked so weak and tiresome.Â
âI know,â You shaped his face with your palms, sliding your thumbs over his cheeks. They are dried of momentary tears when he looks so desperate to cling onto anything to save him. âAnd as king, it is a heavy toll. Jaehearys will know you did everything you could to avenge his death.â
âIt has gone to madness,â His lilac orbs staring at you with such intensity and possibly love. Torn and twisted, you know this is a wifeâs duty to be her husband. Though under Helaena and Aegonâs relationship, they have never loved each other. They were husband and wife, yes but only under law. Helaena held no love but did genuinely care for his well-being. And you had shown more devotion towards his feelings than anyone had done within days. âWhat am I supposed to do now?â
âYou can start by figuring who and who not to trust at court,â You exhale, heart beating like a bass drum when you feel his hands circle yours. âKnow who your trusted allies are and destroy Rhaenyraâs support.âÂ
âThen I need you,â He leans forward, his silver locks tangled in between yours. His gaze was wild and desperate for any kind of refusal you might have. âI need you at court. By my side, you are as essential as any of us there.â It felt as though nothing in the world mattered next only the two of you at this moment. At this important moment, you felt a surge of adrenaline and an urge to comply with his heeds. Your eyes momentarily trail to his lips before discerning back to his eyes.Â
âBecause I have a dragon,â
âBecause you are my blood, you are a strategist and the smartest woman I know in the Seven Kingdoms,â His dried tears make him even more angelic. Perhaps in another lifetime, you two wouldâve married instead and dealt with it more easily. Your mother knew it. Your gransdire did too. Despite it all, they all disapproved of you for your lack of devotion to duty. What more can you offer than your service directly to the crown? To the council? It makes you grin in pride for his acknowledgment of you.Â
âOf course, my king,â And with those words, he closes the gap between your lips. Sorrowful no way but profound in a new kind of serge to overcome the tragic delay. You were right in front of his eyes all along. You, the second-born princess of Alicent and Viserys' marriage. Quip with a sharp tongue and tactics for how long youâve studied the art of it. You were no ordinary princess. You were a fighter, a warrior who well enough wanted bloodshed as much as him.
#house of the dragon#house of the dragon x reader#hotd#hotd x you#hotd x reader#hotd imagine#hotd season 2#the greens#hotd spoilers#aegon ii targaryen#alicent hightower#criston cole#helaena targaryen#otto hightower#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen fanfic#king aegon#aegon#aegon x reader#aegon x you#aegon targaryen#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii x you#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii#controld3vil creations
3K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Small thing: So on the website when you put in âjust fit inâ this flashes on screen during the video
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7979f173d1c5839e72159fda554b9b1b/6ac901c0b7250dd2-10/s540x810/24d9eca706096437d7cf8c407f3f58165cffd484.jpg)
And iâve decoded it to
âROCK ABYE BILLY
PLEASE DONT YOU CRY
ITS NOT YOUR FAULT
YOU HAVE THAT STRANGE EYE
STAY SAFE WITH MOMMY
YOULL NEVER FALL
AND WELL ALWAYS LOVE YOU
SHARP ANGLES AND ALLâ
This paired with the image of his parents from from vallis cineris is really sad :((
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/94b2f9e0f9c5c281ac161e5d13d97224/6ac901c0b7250dd2-02/s540x810/f1dd141a3a82a3230a6757dbac23c5d065615e89.jpg)
#thisisnotawebsitedotcom#the book of bill#tbob#gravity falls#euclydia#bill cipher#he deserves it though lmfao#still pretty interesting though
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d425b895fa1dd3af630e429e86d8e905/f6037bef66d46f4f-58/s540x810/eeee7bd02b3e23e6257e8c87d9aeb3948277e1ee.jpg)
THREE STRIKES
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader - No Outbreak
Rating: 18+ | W/C: 2k
Summary: Joel fucks you in his truck.
Tags: road rage, cockwarming, orgasm denial, husband!joel, public sex, car sex, p in v, unprotected sex, use of the word daddy, grumpy!joel
A/N: swung this out in eight hours through pure adrenaline and proofreading with my homie MASTERLIST
If there was one thing you knew about Joel Miller, it was to never fuck with him when he was on the road.
It wasnât that he was a bad driver, per se. Joel just had pretty low tolerance with shitty drivers, as evident by the dozens of times heâd changed his horn out in the past couple of months. You learned to sit pretty & let him grumbleâbeing on your merry way as the passenger princess you were, humming along to whatever country station he flipped to.
âLeft in the lane up ahead,â you cut in, interrupting Joelâs long-winded rant about the signages being too small. Which of course, his old man vision was probably more of the reason why, not the state's fault. Joel at the same time, refused to use a GPS, a stubborn stance that had already led to him missing an exit earlier. Considering the two of you were now running late to dinner to his younger brother,Tommy, and his wifeâs placeâyouâd been on edge.
Joel glances at you, annoyance flickering across his face. âI know where Iâm goinâ, sweetheart.â
âSure,â you replied, the sarcasm practically dripping from the single word.
âJoel!â Your arm whips directly in front of his face to point at the lane he was supposed to be in. He shoots you a sharp look in return, his palm pressing down on the base of the wheel, rotating it clockwise as he finally shifts over. You could tell, just from the tension in his jawâthat youâd hit strike one.
âI was about to,â he countered, his voice defensive.
âYeah, didnât seem like it.â
âMy signal was on.â
âOh, great, you announced your signalling intentions five hundred meters away from the lane. Can I please just put the GPS on?â you bit back, exasperated.
âWeâll get there. Quit fussinâ.â
Youâd slumped back into your seat, attempting to not let it affect you, Joel knew better though. He could tell you were ready to pop up with a âwe need to turn here!ââdespite your piss poor attempt at behaving for now.
His truck comes to a stop behind a Blue Toyota Yarisâwith a slow rumble from the engine. Fingers drumming steadily against the steering wheel to fill the silence. Finally, he breaks the tension. âYou planninâ on sulkinâ all the way there?âÂ
âIâm not sulking.â You shot back.
Joel raises a brow, giving you a once-over. Gaze flicking to your thighs, clamped together and turned away from him. Well, thatâll do it. His lips twitched like he mightâve smirked. âMmhm. Sure looks like it.â His voice a smooth drawl.
You turned your head just enough to shoot him a mocking look, trying not to let it show just how much the hum in his response caused a visceral reaction in what went on below.Â
Joelâs jaw clenches at that, the faintest crease forming between his brows.
Strike two.Â
The light turns green.
With a long, drawn out sighâJoel eased his boot off the brake, released the clutch and wrapped a firm hand around the gear shift to nudge it into first. The truck rolled forward with its familiar low rumble, He continued driving without saying a word, his patience teetering on the edge with how he was now holding the steering wheel with a white knuckled grip.
You shift in your seat, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when the click of a tongue snaps your attention back up. âYou gotta be shittinâ me.â He breathes out. Gesturing angrily at the Blue Yaris driving way below the speed limit, you couldnât really fault Joel for this one. You lean backwards, fully prepared to hear the end of it.Â
He behaves for a while, but after a few miles, his patience snaps. With a grunt, he slams on the horn and flashed his lights, the sound cutting through the air like a gunshot.Â
You groaned internally at his obnoxious habit. Before you could get a word in, the Yaris brake-checks him, sending the both of you careening forward.
Your face lights up in pure and utter amusement. You let out an audible hah! Karma was kind, you supposed, for the Yaris at least. But not for you. Definitely not for you. By the time you turned to look at Joelâ
He was already looking your way.
That was three strikes.
âOh, thatâs funny now is it?â He says, with no humour in his tone.
âMaybe you shouldnât be so obnoxious with your honking. Just because youâve got old people hearingââ
Joel swerves, stopping on the shoulder of the road. You twist your body a little when you feel the lock of your seat belt snapping open with a dull click.
âUp.â
You blinked. âUp where? Onto the dashboard?â You mused at his audacity. His eyes twitch. With a sharp tug of your arm, he attempts to pry you over the console towards his side. âOw!âOkay, okay!â You huffed, unsteadily sliding over, your ass hitting the honk in the process, sending the both of you jolting.
Joelâs hand tightens around your wrist to pull you snug onto his lap. âChrist, Joel, what the hell?â You tried, effectively shutting up when you felt his very hard erection pressed against you. Your eyes widen, looking at Joel who didnât have an ounce of embarrassment on his expression.
Clearly, someone liked you being a brat.
âNothinâ to say now, mouth?â Joel tugs you by the back of your waist, your palms steadying yourself against his shoulders. You bit down on your lips to withhold just how much you enjoyed this âpunishmentâ. With the thin material of your skirt, youâd felt every-single-fucking-thing. And god did it feel good.
So much for putting me in my place. You thought.Â
Your heart was already thumping with how the truck was still illegally parked, surely, he wouldnât fuck you into obedience here now would he? And risk getting arrested? Goody-two-shoes Joel?
Your gaze trails down as Joel snaps his belt buckle off. Nerves frayed in both trepidation and exhilaration. He brings his hand up to his mouth to wet his fingertips before slipping them beneath your skirt.Â
You shudder at the motion, feeling his knuckles graze the sensitive skin, legs parting where it was tucked underneath your thighs. A thumb pushes the flimsy fabric of your thong aside, his knuckles grazing your clit. You jumped at the sensation. He gathers the slick to rub against the entrance of your folds before sinking two fingers into you in a go. You groan, tipping your head back at how full you already feel.Â
âFuck the lube, I guess.â He murmurs more so to himself. Lips quirked into a lop-sided grin as he curls his fingers up steadily into your slick pussy. Thrusting in and out. Iiiiin and out. You ground your hips impatiently to take his fingers deeper. Which surprisinglyâhe lets you. Normally youâd be met with a stern warning to stay still.Â
He wasnât that cruel to you, yet. A rough palm comes up to knead your tits over the pretty blue sundress you had on. You were on the precipice from coming with the adrenaline alone.
But just as you tightened around his fingers, your pussy clenches aroundâŚ.nothing. Your half lidded gaze meets Joel in confusion when he pulls his fingers out. You feel two heavy palms lift your hips, which you oblige without complaint.
âUpsy-daisy.â He grunts, stuffing you to the brim with his cock. The both of you let out a groan in unison. Your hand slams up onto the headrest, your pussy greedily swallowing all eight inches of him up.Â
You attempt to plant your palms back onto his knees to ride Joelâs cock when a sturdy palm on your waist stops you, tugging your back towards his chest. You look back at Joel, a brow furrowed.
The truck then whirrrs back to life.
What the fuck.
What the fuck?
Your lips parted in disbelief, you feel the truck swerve back onto the road, the slight jump making his cock nudge deeper into you. A pitiful moan left you. âA-Are you kidding me? Youâre driving like this? Weâre gonna crash!â You protested.Â
âWe wonât if you keep your head down.â He emphasizes the down with a hand tugging the back of your neck tillâ your cheeks smushed against his shouldersâeyes steadily welling up in tears from the growing ache.
âWanna be my GPS so badly dontchaâ, sugar?â He taunts,âgo âhead. Tell daddy how many miles he has left.â
You grimaced at his tone. You shouldâve known punishment wasnât going to taste sweet.Â
Every goddamned dip in the road had you biting back a moan. Weakly, you glanced outside the car windows. âT-Two.â You manage. Eyes fluttered shut with hot tears staining Joelâs flannel.Â
Your cunt tightens around Joelâs cock involuntarily. You lift your hips an inch to give yourself the bare minimum stimulation, gasping softly at every single jerk of the truck.Â
âYou best quit doinâ that if you want daddy to fuck you, baby.â He warns.Â
You hiccup, forehead rubbing against Joelâs shoulders pitifully. âJoelâŚâ You whined against his chest.Â
âI know, sweetheart. How else are you gonna learn, huh? Testinâ me all damnâ...â He heaves, rocking you upwards until you come slamming down back onto his cock. ââday.â Grunting at the way your pussy grips around him like vice. You let out a stifled cry against his shoulder.
Thighs quivering now at the lack of proper attention to your cunt.Â
âI-Iâm sorryââŚcanâtââŚJoel.â You begged, lifting your head up to trace the curve of your nose up the scuff of his jaw.Â
Joel wasnât a man of steel for sure, just feeling the wetness of his wifeâs tears against his chest was enough for him to give in and fuck her like the pretty little slut she was for him.Â
He clenches his jaw. Letting you pepper needy kisses up his neck. âPleaseâŚplease pleaseââŚâÂ
âNeed him, baby.â
The car nearly comes into a screeching halt when Joel stops in front of Tommyâs garage.Â
You feel a firm tug at the back of your head. Cheeks flushed visibly. âPoor baby, you need him now do you?â He mutters softly. Joel gazes at you. Your pretty, tear stricken face making his cock throb even harder than he knew possible.Â
âEven after you were such a fuckinâ brat?â You shake your head, not daring to move your hips in the slightest, in fear he might deny you. You didnât think you could endure it any longer.Â
âIâm sorryââŚMâsorry.â You babbled, not even sure what exactly you were begging for anymore. You just needed something, anything to ease the ache.
With a content smirk, Joelâs hands run down your back in a soothing effort.Â
âKeep quiet fâme?â He whispers.Â
Your head tips back with a groan when Joelâs cock slams hard in you once, and again.Â
And again. And again.Â
He steadies your hips with a firm grip, snapping his hips upwards to meet the effort you took to grind your hips back down. Joel leans his head back against the seat. âShit.â He whispers.Â
It was bad enough he held back cumming into your tight little pussy for twenty minutesâbut the way you were milking him now had him groaning in pain just to make sure you came before he did.Â
âSweet girl.â He coos. A rough palm sliding upwards to hold your jaw firm, facing him. âCâmon. Canât come without you.âÂ
His thumb massages steadily against your clit, giving you the nudge you needed. Your palms shift to grip around his thighs. Arching your back in a way you didnât know you even could before your entire body tenses. It doesnât take long after for Joel to grunt with a heaving effort, flooding your pussy with his thick spend. He slides his hand down your throat, cupping around your waist to hold you against him.
The both of you remained there, panting heavily in the wake of what was possibly the best orgasms youâd had since your honeymoon.Â
The haze of lust was short lived when the loud sound of Tommyâs garage door opening caught your attention.Â
Joel laughs and you do too, he leans in to kiss the valley between your breasts up to your collarbone. You were officially a whole hour and a half late.Â
âThink theyâll ever invite us again?â
âNot a chance in hell.â
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel the last of us#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal#IM SO TURNT BY HUSBAND JOEL I CANT
802 notes
¡
View notes
Text
for the night.
the flight back from a case gets delayed and the teamâs forced to book rooms for the night. what a coincidence that youâre paired with spencer.
pairing :: s5!spencer x fem bau!reader
warnings :: fluff, flustered spencer, this is literally just an excuse to write about spencer with crutches
word count :: 1.7k
authorâs note :: one of my favorite tropes asfdfafssfsd we all know where this is going right ;)
accompanying song :: letâs fall in love for the night by finneas
âi have to admit, i am quite surprised. engine failures are extremely rare â statistically, they only occur once every 1.4 million flight hours.â
âuh-huh, very interesting.â you roll your eyes, but the smile that tempts to play on your lips is too overpowering to withhold.Â
âit is!â spencer excitedly flashes you a smile. âweâre actually incredibly lucky to avoid an in-flight shutdown, which typically happens once per million flight hours-â
âreid, i think our luck might be running dry here. itâs 1 a.m., the jetâs engines are acting up, and we canât leave portland.â
you take both of his crutches in your hands with an exasperated sigh. itâs not his fault, and you know better than to project your annoyance at him, but the disappointment of not being able to enjoy a nice, hot shower in the walls of your home has you uptight.
with an apologetic smile, you extend your shoulder to spencer; slowly, he places his hand on you, and you help him carefully descend the jetâs stairs.
the two of you are the last to join the rest of the group on the ground, and hotch sends an acknowledging nod in your direction once he sees that youâve been assisting spencer.Â
âl/n, reid, you guys okay with rooming together for the night?â
the words donât initially register, and itâs only until spencer speaks up that you realize hotch isnât asking â heâs confirming.
âweâre rooming in pairs?â
hotch nods, and his sidelong stare roams over spencerâs face like heâs challenging him to continue, to contest his proposal.
âemily? jj?â you pipe up this time, sending a pleading glance at both of them. they look back at you with sheepish smiles.Â
âit looked like you guys were having a really good conversation back there. didnât want to disturb you,â emily returns, slowly raising her shoulders and mouthing sorry.
spencer clears his throat and leans into your ear. âi can probably book a room at another place-â
you widen your eyes and immediately shake your head. âno, thatâs not necessary, iâm completely fine with it! unless youâre⌠not?â
this time, spencerâs the one shaking his head fervently. âoh no, iâm entirely comfortable, perfectly content, uh- sharing a room with you.â
you display an awkward grin. âalright then, perfect.â
â
âiâll set your bag on the table, is that okay?â
âyeah, thanks a lot.â
you heave a sigh of relief as you close the door behind you and rest spencerâs bookbag on the wooden table. spencer slowly lowers himself into a chair, and you gently lean his crutches against the walls near the door.Â
youâre pleasantly surprised by the roomâs decor; its soft carpet floor and mahogany picture frames hanging from the walls easily exceed your expectations for a traditional hotel room.
youâre about to make a comment commending the roomâs quality when your eyes zero in on a terrifying sight.
thereâs only one bed.
you do a double take, circling around the bedroom once more to check if thereâs an extra mattress lying around somewhere â at this point, you really wouldnât mind if the bed has a trundle.
âfuck me.â
âwhat?âÂ
spencerâs eyes immediately divert to you, and he stifles his reaction to your comment with a hasty cough.
you point to the bed, which prompts spencer to crane his neck to get a better view.Â
âthereâs only one bed.â
spencerâs eyes widen, and his gaze snaps up to your face so fast you wonder if youâve just made a grave mistake of telling him.Â
he was bound to find out anyway.
âitâs okay, iâll take-â you start, but he cuts you off short.
âthe floor? not a chance.â
you press your lips together tightly and gesture to his leg. âplease, take the bed. your leg⌠youâre injured.â
spencer looks down at the floor briefly, a light shade of pink spreading across his face. âno, we can⌠we can share the bed.â
you feel your cheeks grow hot at his suggestion, but a refusal fails to surface on your lips.Â
moving your hands to your hips, you nod slowly. âonly because youâre insisting,â you murmur.
a brief silence veils the air, and the two of you have utterly no idea what to do next â neither of you wants to be the one to crawl into bed first.
but the clockâs hour hand had just moved past the two, and you know your eyelids arenât going to stay open for much longer.
with a weary sigh, you gesture towards the lightswitch. âdo you mind if we dimmed the lights a little?â
spencer turns, almost hobbling on his leg, and flips the switch for you. the room turns dark almost instantly, but a faint light emanates from a lamp on the nightstand.
âare you, um, going to sleep soon?â
you hate to be the first one to bring it up, but you have to â you can practically feel the tiredness tempting you like a fuzzy blanket.
âuh yeah, we should sleep.âÂ
you watch as spencer grabs a pillow from his side of the bed and positions it near the edge of the mattress. youâre about to ask him what heâs doing when he props himself onto the bed and rests his leg on top of the pillow, elevating his casted knee.
oh. as the realization hits you, you reach for your own pillow and gently place it next to his head. âhere, use this.â
âthatâs your pillow.âÂ
âi know.â
a soft chuckle sounds from his throat as spencer raises his head ever so slightly, allowing you to tuck the pillow beneath him.
âthanks,â he murmurs, and pats at the space next to him, urging you to join him on the bed.
once youâve slipped your feet into the blanket, spencer stretches his arm to turn off the lamp and moves back to whisper a hushed good night into your ear.
you turn to say it back. âgood n-â
his hand gently starts to wedge under your neck, and as he moves, strands of your hair coil around his fingers.Â
heâs offering his arm as a pillow.
you lie frozen, your breath hitched in your throat, as his arm extends fully beneath you.Â
âspence,â you exhale, caught off-guard by the sudden move.
âitâs okay. donât worry about me,â he softly whispers, inclining his head towards your face.
you smile, though you doubt he can see your face in the pitch-black darkness.Â
âsweet dreams,â you hum, and close your eyes to let sleep overtake you.
â
you wake up not to the sound of your alarm, not to the birds usually perched on the tree outside your window, but to the sound of spencer clearing his throat.
you think itâs a dream at first, but you can feel everything â the vibrations coming from his throat like heâs talking to you, his hands stroking a pattern on your back, his breaths tickling your hair.
you open your eyes to see spencer staring back at you with flustered cheeks, his eyes flickering back and forth between your face andâŚÂ
you follow his gaze and look down, only to see that your legâs wrapped casually around his hips, anchoring him to the bed. with a panicked yelp, you immediately retract your leg and leap out of the bed, frantically apologizing to him over and over again.
âiâm so sorry about that, d-did i hurt you?â
your voice sounds scratchy from your parched throat, but how you sound right now is the least of your concerns.
spencer chuckles softly before slowly sitting up. âno, you didnât do anything.â
you let out a relieved sigh at his response.
spencer grunts as he lifts himself up, tenderly listening to your continued apologies with a warm smile.
âby the way,â he starts, fixing his tie and reaching for his suit jacket, âwe're a little late.â
âwhat?â you gasp, hurriedly tucking your dress shirt into your trousers, âfuck. how late?â
a pause, and then: âfive minutes and twenty seconds.â
âoh my god,â you squeal as you fling your and spencerâs bag over your shoulders, âtheyâre probably all waiting for us.â
quickly turning the doorknob and making way for spencerâs crutches to move past the door, you rush to the elevator and hit the juddering call button.
ânext time, youâre-â you cough out as you try to catch your breath, â-youâre welcome to just push me off the bed. itâs guaranteed to wake me up instantly.â
spencer looks at you questioningly, a small grin spreading across his lips. ânext time?â
you clasp a hand over your mouth. âwait no, i meant â hopefully weâll never have to sleep in a room together ever again, but iâm saying in case-â
spencer tilts his head and lets out an amused laugh. thankfully, the elevator doors open just in time, and youâre spared the trouble of having to explain yourself further.
you bite your lips as the image of his lopsided grin lingers in the back of your mind, and the fresh regret of your words burns your face like a hot fever.
the embarrassment doesnât end, however, as the doors open once again to reveal your team standing right outside. when the elevatorâs chime echoes throughout the lobby, everyoneâs heads turn to you and spencer.
you walk out with nervous steps, grimacing when hotch merely nods and announces that the plane is ready for takeoff. spencer makes his way over to derek, who tousles his hair teasingly.
âso, howâd you sleep last night?â
you freeze when rossiâs husky voice drifts into your ears.
you force out a smile. âi definitely couldâve slept better.â
âreally?â he hums with a smirk, âi slept like a baby.â
âyeah, you upgraded your room, we get it, youâre rich,â you sigh, eliciting a hearty chuckle from the older agent.
once seated in your usual seat on the jet, youâre accompanied by spencer and morgan, who slump into their seats across from you.
you watch suspiciously as morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you and nudges his elbow into spencerâs sides. âso, late night, huh?â
spencer looks at you briefly, flushed cheeks failing to suppress the smile splaying across his face.Â
âshut up.â
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x you
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2e2cfebf51abe9b0987e0f9e9b67196b/6d107f59c060f955-2c/s540x810/6f3922cad199ee109b06cde2a44ec7760528307e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/294c41d01ace50f75052ee91cee862ab/6d107f59c060f955-b6/s540x810/cb3ed8ecc918d4f275112b20ebabe288f12c828a.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/46b0749cb5cdbda1558373a830131dea/6d107f59c060f955-b6/s540x810/f58248cb62f48dbf89b1a35c811702a64b6cd4da.jpg)
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3| PART 4
Behind Closed Doors 4
Your frustration over his broken promise melts away as soon as he calls, and you find yourself unexpectedly drawn to his voice, more than you anticipated.
Warnings: (18+, MDNI) Phone sex, mutual (and guided) masturbation, dirty talk ~4.7k words
A/n: this is just me wishing he was on quinnđ anyway enjoy part 4, this mini series is not dead (i donât even know how long it will be but letâs just celebrate that Iâm finally updating)
All men do is lie, you thought as you flopped onto your bed.
Okay, maybe it wasnât entirely his faultâbut you werenât in the mood to be reasonable. You remembered that car ride vividly. He had promised you more time together, a moment to finally be alone. Instead, what did you get? A new case, then another, and amidst all the chaos and dodging bullets (literally and metaphorically), you two somehow managed to drift apart.
The past few weeks had been the busiest since you started working at the BAU, and that was saying a lot, considering there was never really a moment of peace when you worked for the government. But this time was different, it seemed even more chaotic than usual. Every time you thought of bringing up the conversation with himâor maybe sneak in a little make-out sessionâsomething urgent would come up.Â
There was never the right time, or the right moment. It felt as if the universe had other plans for you, and none of them involved the two of you getting a moment alone. And before you knew it, you were caught in this maddening cycle of missed opportunities, and the worst thing was, you were sexually frustrated.
This time, you had no one else to blame but him. Ever since he came into the picture, your carefully maintained self-control had started to slip, and now, despite your best efforts, you couldnât ignore the growing need between your legs. It was aching, throbbing, and even the thought of him was making you hot and restless.
How did he manage to do that? He wasnât even trying. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way he moved or spoke, and yet every glance, every accidental touch, seemed to affect you. Spencer. Just his name made your breath hitch, your body betraying you. You werenât proud to admit this, but the mere thought of his fingers brushing your skin had you feeling that first rush of arousal slipping into your panties.
You huffed, considering digging out your pink silicone toy hidden somewhere in your drawer. And while you were contemplating this, knowing it had been a while since you last used it because nothing could compare to the feeling of his touch now, your phone on the bedside table rang.
Maybe the universe was really testing you, because his name flashed across the screen and it took a lot of self-control for you not to pick up on the first ring and demand him to fuck you right there and then, which sounded too crass when you werenât in the middle of straddling his lap like the last time. So instead, you decided to wait until the sixth ring before you answered with a curt, âHey.â
There was a pause, then a sigh. âYouâre mad at me.â
Could he tell? Of course, he could. He always had an uncanny ability to read you, even over the phone. âMad? Why would I be mad?â
âI can almost see you rolling your eyes.â
âI never roll my eyes,â you shot back.
âYou rolled your eyes last week when Luke tried to tell us that his dog could sniff out bodies better than our trained ones.â
You suppressed a smile, surprised that he even noticed you giving Luke a once-over at that particular moment. âThat was because his dog chases its tail more than it chases leads.â
"And I'm not worthy of an eye roll?"
âHonestly, you deserve more than an eye roll,â you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
"So you are mad,â he stated, growing quiet for a while. âIâm sorry.â
And now you felt bad. You ran a hand through your hair, trying to clear your thoughts. âItâs not your fault.â
âI know, but it doesnât make me feel any less better.â
You felt a pang of guilt as you stared at the ceiling. It wasnât exactly fair to blame him. Serial killers, unfortunately, didnât come with a schedule, and now Spencer was already on his leave. You recalled the excitement in his voice when he told you about the seminars Emily had arranged for him to teach. He had spoken with an enthusiasm you hadnât heard in a long time, his eyes practically lighting up every time he mentioned it.
How could you be upset about that?
"I'm not... mad.â
There was a slight teasing note in his voice as he replied, "Just annoyed then?"
You held back a smile. "Maybe a little."
âAnything I can do to help with that?â His voice softened through the phone. âIs there any way I can make it up to you?â
Your thoughts immediately went to the sticky situation between your legs, and you felt a flush of embarrassment. Technically, he could help with that. But could you say that? Should you?Â
"I donât know, depends on what you have in mind,â you replied, trying to steer your mind away from the direction it was heading. There was a pause, a silence that hung in the air as he carefully considered his next words.
"I could⌠start by telling you how much I miss you?â
Now that, you didnât expect. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest. Spencer had never really acknowledged his feelings with words when his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it out loud made the emotions between you feel undeniably real. It was as if his words shattered whatever platonic friendship the two of you had built over the past years.
Although you knew your friendship had fundamentally changed the moment he had you pinned on the desk that fine afternoon, it didnât stop you from questioning about where you truly stood.
"You miss the idea of me," you corrected him, unable to resist yourself.
âYou know thatâs not true,â he replied gently.
âDo I?â
âYes, you know me better than that,â he insisted. âYouâre a great profiler, you can tell if Iâm not being honest.â
A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, despite trying to stay mad at him. "You hate being profiled.â
"That was before I realized how useful your skills are in deciphering my feelings.â
âYou know Iâd rather you tell me how you feel.â
âI did, I miss you, and you chose not to believe me.â
Your cheeks actually ached from smiling too much. You couldnât help but feel a warm, tingling sensation spread through you. âFine,â you sighed, finally giving in. âI believe you.â
âAnd?â
You rolled onto your side. âAnd what?â
âDo you not miss my absence at work?â
âWellâŚâ
âWell?â He prompted.
Now how could you tell him you missed more than just his presence? How could you admit that you missed the way he made you feel, the way his breath felt hot against your skin, without sounding obvious or too needy? Because you missed everything about him. His hands, his lips, his tongueâoh dear god, his tongue.
Spencer suddenly called out your name, and you forced yourself to focus, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you cleared your throat.
âYes, IâI miss you,â you finally admitted.
There was a pause, then his voice came through, lighter, teasing. âWhy do you sound like that?â
ââŚlike what?â
âLike youâre out of breath.â
You gripped the sheets tightly, the fabric bunching under your fingers. How could you even begin to explain this to him now that he was onto you? You felt like you were on the verge of a full-blown emotional meltdown. God, if he knew how many times youâd replayed every kiss, every touch, in your mind, heâd never let you live it down.
It was almost laughable, really. Here you were, trying to keep it together, and failing miserably. âItâs just⌠I really, really miss you.â
âYou really miss me? Are you trying to say something?â
You hesitated, your mind scrambling for the right words without revealing too much. âNoâŚ?â
âMhm,â he replied, clearly unconvinced. âYouâre not telling me everything.â
You gripped the phone tighter. âIâm just saying... It's hard without you here. You know, in every way.â
âIn every way?â
You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling both embarrassed and mortified. âI just... I miss how you make me feel. Physically.â
âPhysically?â he pressed. âCan you elaborate?â
âIâm... you know, Iâve been... missing certain things. Certain... activities.â
âCertain activities,â he repeated your words once again. It was then that you realized he was teasing you, clearly enjoying your discomfort a little too much. âYou mean like... talking?â
âNo. More like... the other stuff we do when weâre alone.â
"I don't understand."
At that point, your embarrassment was gnawing at you. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. âGod, Spencer, donât make me say it,â you groaned, burying your face in your pillow.
âCome on, I need a little more than that.â He sounded both amused and curious. âIâm just making sure I understand you right.â
âYou know exactly what Iâm talking about,â you muttered into the pillow, your voice muffled but still clear enough for him to hear.
âActually, I donât think I do. You could be missing so many things, you have to help me out here.â
You turned your head to the side, exasperation coloring your tone. âSpencerâŚâ
"Yes?" he responded innocently.
"Youâre really going to make me say it, arenât you?â
"I find precise communication to be very important.â
You let out a groan, feeling the last of your restraint crumble. âAlright! Fine!â you snapped. âIâm horny, okay? And itâs all your fault!â
His laughter rang through the phone, and you could almost see the grin spreading across his face. âMy fault?"
"Yes! I feel like a deprived, horny teenager here, and I justâŚâ
You trailed off, hardly believing you had actually said that out loud. The realization hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you wished you could take it back. There was a pause that seemed to stretch on forever and you wondered if you had gone too far.
He finally broke the silence, breathing out your name in a way that made your skin tingle. "You could've told me from the start."
You could, but youâd rather not.
"I didn't want to sound desperate."
"You can be desperate with me,â he said softly. âJust say the word and Iâll give you anything you want.â
If there was one thing Spencer was good at, it was getting under your skin. He really shouldnât be saying those words, not now, not when it was making you crave him even more. You swallowed, feeling a tightness in your chest, a knot in your stomach. The part of you that always played it safe wanted to retract, to laugh it off as a joke. But then there was that other part, the part that craved his attention, the part that was tired of holding back.
âTell me, what do you want now?â
You took a deep breath and laid on your back, the words catching in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken.
âI want⌠you.â
âTell me how you want me.â
Your fingers trailed over the sheets, your touch light as you imagined it was him beneath your fingertips. âSpencerâŚâ
âCome on,â he pressed. âTell me.â
You paused, your heart pounding in your chest. You could almost imagine him right in front of you, staring at you with those beautiful brown eyes that always managed to make you melt, coaxing words from you that you barely dared to think, let alone speak.
Just say it. He's waiting. He wants to hear it.
Your hand began to move.
âI⌠I want your hands on me.â
âWhere do you want my hands?â
âEverywhere,â you whispered, your fingers grazing your body as if they were his. You closed your eyes.
âEverywhere?â
You found yourself nodding even though he couldnât see you.
âOn my hipsâŚâ
Your hand danced across your hips.
âMy stomachâŚâ
Your palm slipped under your shirt, moving slowly up your abdomen, feeling the warmth of your own touch and wishing it was his.
âBetween my thighsâŚâ
You paused at the hem of your panties, the only barrier beneath your shirt, hesitating as a flush of warmth spread through you. The line was silent for a moment, save for the sound of his breathingâa soft, heavy rhythm that matched the pounding of your own heart.
âWhere else do you want me?â
Your fingers dipped inside the fabric. âI want you lowerâŚâ
âTell me exactly where.â
âWhere Iâm most sensitive,â you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. âSpencer⌠pleaseâŚâ
âAre you touching yourself?â
âIâŚâ
âAre you?â
âNoâŚâ
âDo you want to touch yourself?â
You licked your lips, your breath coming faster. âMaybe.â
âThen do it, no oneâs stopping you.â
You hesitated, the reality of the situation sinking in. You couldnât believe this was happening, that you were having this conversation with him. "This feels so naughty.â
"Naughty can be nice, though, right?" he assured you. "Don't think about it too much. Itâs just you and me.â
There really was something about his voice, the way it effortlessly wrapped around youâsmooth, coaxing, almost hypnotic. Despite the hesitation that tugged at your mind, your hand began to move lower, and your legs parting involuntarily. A soft gasp escaped your lips when your hand flew right to your pussy, fingers quickly tracing the length of your folds. You were already wet, and you began to spread your arousal towards your clit.
âSpencerâŚâ you whined, feeling the sudden rush of sensations.
âKeep going,â he urged. âTell me what you feel.â
You closed your eyes. âIt feels⌠goodâŚâ
âDescribe it to me.â
You took a shaky breath, trying to find the words through the haze of pleasure. âItâs warm and wet⌠andâŚâ
And you wished he was the one touching you.
You let your mind drift to your fantasy. You imagined it was his fingers circling your clit. You imagined his lips against yours, the way they would move together. You imagined him whispering these words right in front of you, his eyes locked on yours as you writhed beneath him. The fantasy felt so vivid that for a moment, you could almost feel his weight pressing down on you, his presence enveloping you completely.
Your imagination urged you to move faster, but you felt limited by the fabric in the way. You called out his name. âCan I⌠can I take my, um, underwear off?â
You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he replied, âOf course you can.â
You put your phone down, and with trembling fingers, you slid the fabric down your legs. You discarded them quickly and turned the call to speaker before you settled back on the bed. Your hand returned to your body, fingers brushing over your sensitive skin. You parted your legs even wider, and as your fingers found their rhythm, a moan escaped you.
âBetter?â
You sighed in relief as you continued to rub your clit. âSo much better.â
âKeep it slow, okay? We donât want to rush.â
His voice was low and soothing, and you couldnât believe how just by his voice he had gotten you so worked up.
âNow press a little harder.â You complied, applying a bit more pressure on your clit. "Right there. Do you feel that?"
"Yes," you gasped, your back slightly arching off the bed.
âI wish I could see you right now," he murmured. âI'd kiss you where you're touching.â
You let your imagination take over. You pictured him with his head right between your thighs, his eyes locked on yours with those intense, pretty eyes. You imagined his mouth moving over your clit, sucking gently while his fingers explored between your folds. The thought was so vivid, so real, that you could almost feel his warm breath against your skin.
The mental image of him looking up at you was almost too much to bear. âSpencerâŚâ
"Keep going. Are your fingers wet?" You could simply moan back a reply, not trusting your own voice. âNow slowly slide in one. Can you do that for me?â
You did as he said, sliding a finger into your wetness. You could feel how tight you were, the slick warmth of your arousal enveloping your skin. You looked down between your legs and watched as you pleased yourself. It wasnât exactly an unfamiliar sight. You had done this countless times before, but never with the voice of a man guiding you, especially Spencerâthe last person youâd imagine doing this with.
Yet look at how much effect he had on you.
"You're quiet," his voice suddenly came through. "Are you still with me?"
"Yes," you managed to whisper. "It's just... a lot."
"In a good way, I hope?"
âVery good,â you assured him.
You could practically picture the corner of his lips twitching into a proud smile. âGood,â he recited. âNow try adding another finger.â
You couldn't help a moan escaping your lips as you pushed in your middle finger, the sound louder than you intended.
"How does that feel?"
"Full," you breathed out, adjusting to the sensation.
âYeah? I bet youâre so tight.â
You were, awfully so. Your walls clenched around your fingers, almost swallowing them as you started to move them in a steady rhythm. The pleasure built in your lower stomach, a warm, coiling tension that made you desperate for more. You needed his voice, you craved his guidance, even from afar.
âSpenceâŚâ you whined. âKeep talking, please.â
âYou want me to describe how Iâd touch you if I were there?â
You moaned in response, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, urging him to continue.
âIf I were there,â he began, his voice low, âIâd start by kissing you slowly.â
You could almost feel it, his lips on yours, his tongue probing inside your mouth.
âIâd move lower,â he continued. âKiss your neck, your collarbone⌠while my fingers would move along your hips, your thighs, getting closer and closer to where you need me most.â
You whimpered, your fingers moving faster as you followed his vivid description, imagining his touch guiding you.
âIâd tease you, brush my fingers right at your entrance,â he whispered. âThen, Iâd slip them inside you, just like youâre doing now.â
Your breaths came in short gasps.
âIâd spread your legs wide,â he continued again, and you heard a faint rustling noise in the background. âIâd move my fingers in⌠and⌠out...â
Your legs fell further apart.
âIâd curl my fingers the same way I did that day,â he went on. âDo you remember?â
How could you not? It never truly left your mind. You could picture that day clearly, the feeling of his fingers and mouth working on your sensitive spot seemed to linger in your memory.
âIâd do the same thing that you like,â he proceeded, and you focused on his voice. âIâd lean in close⌠licking you⌠sucking you.â
You moaned loudly as the image of his mouth on your clit flashed through your mind. You could almost feel the way he would sloppily lap at you, drinking in every drop of your arousal with each eager flick of his tongue.
âGo faster for me,â he urged. âI-I want to hear how wet you are.â
You followed his words, and the slick sounds of your arousal filled the quiet around you as you imagined him there, his fingers replacing yours. You could hear more noise through the line, the subtle rustle of clothes moving, the faint sound of his breathing growing heavier before he let out a low grunt.
âYou make the prettiest sounds,â he breathed out. âNow add another finger.â
Your eyes narrowed into a frown, trying to slip a third finger in but the stretch was too intense for you to continue. âI-I canât.â
âShh, itâs okay,â he soothed. âJust take it slow. Try to relax.â
You took a deep breath, trying to follow his instructions. You slowly eased in another finger, feeling the awkward stretch but the initial discomfort quickly faded into a deeper pleasure, and you moaned softly.
âOh, fuck.â
âThere you go,â he encouraged. âFeel that? Feel how full you are?â
You hummed a reply.
âThatâs how I want you to feel when Iâm finally inside you.â
A whine left your lips. In your head, you saw him, his body poised above yours, his cock sliding smoothly into you. You imagined the slick, rhythmic motion, the way each thrust would fill you, stretching you, overwhelming you. You cried out a filthy moan at the thought, unabashed and desperate, as you began to pump your fingers inside your cunt.
âPush deeper for me⌠I know you can take it.â
You gasped, pushing your fingers as deep as they could go. âI canât⌠I need⌠ohâŚâ
âI know, I know,â he whispered. âYou need more. You need me inside you, donât you?â
âSpencer, pleaseâŚâ you begged, your voice breaking into desperate, choked sobs.
âYou want that? You want to feel me stretch you?â
âYes, yesâŚâ you managed to moan out, your movements became more desperate.
âGod, youâd be so tight around me⌠Iâd have your legs spread wide so I⌠I-I could see how perfect youâd take me.â
You could almost feel his hands on your hips, his body pressing against yours, filling you completely. Your fingers moved frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you felt the tension building to an unbearable peak.
âYouâd pull me closer, wouldnât you? Youâd ask for more, like you always do, and Iâd give it to you,â he promised. âIâd give it to you so hard⌠s-so deepâŚâ
And that was when you heard itâthe unmistakable sound of wetness, like skin sliding over slick, damp skin. The sound was filthy, making your pulse race as you wondered what he might be doing on the other end of the line. Your voice trembled as you slowly asked him, âSpence, are youâŚ?â
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end before he let out a soft, almost sheepish laugh, as if you had caught him red-handed. âI⌠yeah,â he admitted, his voice breathless and strained. "Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?"
Your fingers subconsciously quickened at his confession, their movements becoming more urgent as you imagined him laying on his own bed, hand wrapped around his cock. You bit your lip to stifle your moans as you whispered, âTell me what youâre doing.â
His breathing grew ragged, his words coming in clipped bursts. âIâm⌠Iâm touching myselfâŚâ
You tried to focus on his voice, but the sound of his sloppy strokes began to echo louder. âTell me more.â
âIâm⌠Iâm rubbing⌠my fingers over the head,â he gasped, and you curled your fingers deeper, using your palm to grind against your clit. The way he sounded so lost in his pleasure, unable to hold back, had you imagining him stroking himself. You pictured yourself doing it for him, remembering how it felt that day when you had his cock in your handâthe weight, the warmth, the way he looked at you through intense eyes.
Your breathing grew heavier, louder, and his voice cracked with a strained moan as he whispered, âCan you lower your phone?â
You fumbled with the device, bringing it closer to where your fingers worked tirelessly between your legs. âLike this?â
âGod, yes,â he groaned, the sound of his strokes growing faster and more urgent. âYou sound so perfect.â
You let out a soft cry, your fingers thrusting in and out of your cunt frantically as you imagined him watching you, listening to every sound you made. The wet, slick noises filled the room, so intense and filthy. You looked down to see your juices spilling over your fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you. The sheer sound of it was enough to drive him crazy.
âIâf-faster, please,â he panted into the phone. âI need you to go faster.â
Your eyes widened for a moment as the desperate plea slipped from his lips. But you didnât have the mental space to think about it. Your focus was solely on reaching your release as you ultimately sped up your pace. Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up every time your fingertips hit that deep spot inside you.
"Ohâfuck!â You exhaled sharply as the familiar sensation took over you. âIâm cumming Iâm cumming Iâm cummingââ
With a cry that was both a sob and a shout, your pussy fluttered around your fingers. Your orgasm ripped through you without warning, sending shockwaves of intense pleasure through your body as you gasped and shuddered. Your voice escaped in broken moans and whines, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.
âSpencer⌠oh, God, SpencerâŚâ
The sound of your climax drove him to his own release. His breath hitched, his movements faltering as he let out a harsh sound from his throat. It was raw and unrestrained, downright filthy, and you listened intently, your fingers slipping out only to circle and rub your clit, drawing out the final waves of your orgasm.
Finally, when you couldnât take it anymore, your hand fell away, and you lay there, breathing heavily, your body relaxing into the bed. Your room was quiet afterward, the only sound coming from was the sound of your own breathing. Then you heard him calling out your name, checking in. But through the post-orgasmic bliss, all you could manage in response was a giggle.
âYouâre⌠laughing?â He mused. âShould I be concerned?â
âNo, no,â you replied, still catching your breath, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. âItâs just⌠I canât believe we did that.â
A gentle laugh escaped his lips, a warm, soothing sound that calmed your racing heart. "Did you like it?"
You liked it a lot. "Canât say that I didnât.â
"So I take it you're not mad at me anymore?"
You let out a soft, contented sigh. âI wasnât even that mad to begin with. Just⌠frustrated,â you confessed. âBut I think we handled that pretty well.â
âMaybe a little too well,â he agreed softly. âI can't believe I need to take a shower this late.â
You looked down between your legs at his words, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you as you noticed the patch of wetness on your bed. It wasn't smallâit spread across the fabric in a noticeable, damp stain. âUh, yeah,â you admitted with a nervous laugh. âI also need to change my sheets.â
Then you heard a low, almost pained groan from his end of the line.
âWhat?â
âItâs justâŚâ He paused, and you could almost hear him struggling to find the right words. "I'm now picturing you on your bed."
"Isn't that what you've been doing?"
"Well, yes, but now it's⌠different."
You couldn't help the amused grin that spread across your face. "Different how?"
"Let's just say the image in my mind is a lot more detailed now and it's not helping me calm down."
A burst of laughter erupted from your chest as you gripped your phone closer to you. âIs this your way of blaming me because you still have a hard-on?â you taunted. âI mean, Iâm simply stating the facts.â
âBut youâre painting a picture in my head.â
âOf me drenching the sheets just by hearing your voice?â
He made a low, strained sound. âStop.â
âI can send you a picture if you like,â you offered slyly. âHelp you visualize it better.â
There was a moment of stunned silence on his end before he finally muttered, âYou shouldnât.â
âYouâre right, I shouldnât.â
âBut if you insistâŚâ
You laughed softly. âGood night, Spencer.â
âWaitâYouâre hanging up?â
âYep,â you said cheerfully. âI thought you needed a shower.â
He made another frustrated sound, somewhere between a groan and a sigh, before reluctantly agreeing. âFine, fine. Good night.â
And that was it. You ended the call with a satisfied smile. But as you stared at your phone, a rush of thoughts began to swirl through your mind. You were well aware of the potential risks of what you were about to doâhow it could be traced back to you. You could almost hear Penelope lecturing you about online security and the dangers of leaving a digital footprint.
But when your mind kept circling back to SpencerâSpencerâs breathless voice, Spencerâs prominent veins on his hands, Spencer with a freaking hard-on in his bedâit was hard to think rationally. Before you could stop yourself, you propped your phone on your pillow and posed for the camera. Legs spread wide, your nipples pressing against your shirt, a flirtatious smile playing on your lips. The shot looked like it came out of a porno movie. You quickly sent it to him.
It took exactly 7 seconds before your phone rang again.
âYes, Spencer?â you answered, trying to sound innocent.
You heard shuffling and a muffled grunt, and then, faintly, the rustling of fabric. It sounded like he was fumbling with his phone, and you couldnât help but bite your lip at the frustration in his voice.
âHow do I turn this into video call again?â
#behind closed doors#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencerreid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#Fanfiction#gifwriting
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
don't smile
you just can't get over each other. (angst -> happy ending)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6ffed87b798d49a06065f2ce14d4db5f/f643af17c3ceb92f-9d/s540x810/78207fed9363eeeb68e589cdfbf985a76f5b65b3.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/062795b84e8fd8c06aa17077d1b4f2a5/f643af17c3ceb92f-f9/s540x810/4e39a863b4aa3f97326b080ebab4414f53520598.jpg)
Seeing you in somebody elseâs arms was never part of the plan Alexia set out for herself.Â
A drink in her hand and a stranger in yours. At an event for the club of her life that was nothing when you were in the same room as her, breathing the same air, but you had an arm around your waist that wasnât Alexiaâs.
An hour before that, when you first walked in, she could have thrown up, or fallen to her knees and wailed like a child, or thrown a tantrum like a toddler. Because you walked into her place of work with her team, your only goal in mind being to make her jealous in front of her mother and sister, her colleagues, her colleaguesâ family and friends, and just about anyone else around.Â
Patri had invited you, apparently, which made sense. You had met through her, a fleeting moment Alexia once called fate. Now, as she watched you laugh, smile, joke, drape yourself over another woman, the captain thought of it as nothing but the beginning of the end for her. Her life hadnât been the same since the two of you split.Â
Waking up in the morning hadnât felt the same now that her bed was empty and cold without. The start of her day used to be her favourite part. Waking to a warm bed with your sleeping form beside her, goosebumps always rising on her skin when you buried her face in the crook of her neck and breathed in as the scent of vanilla from her lingering perfume and the lavender of the bed sheets invaded your senses, it was just unmatched. She couldnât describe the motivation it gave her. Instead, the only thing that greeted her at the crack of dawn was the sole, deafening sound of her alarm. It made it inexplicably harder to want to get on with the agenda for her day.Â
Cooking breakfast wasnât the same when you werenât there to will her on with light kisses along her neckline. Doing her skincare in the bathroom wasnât anywhere near as fun when you werenât emphatically serenading her from the shower. Going to training didnât feel quite so fulfilling when you werenât waiting to welcome her with open arms once she returned home. Lining up in the tunnel of whatever stadium she was playing in that day wasnât the same when you werenât in the stands for her.
Yet you sauntered in as if none of that ever happened, flaunting the evidence of your success at seamlessly moving on with a grin on your face Alexia hadnât seen before. She didnât realise the reason for that was because it wasnât genuine, like all the other ones youâd flashed at her in the past. That thought wasnât even a concept in her world, the only thing she could focus on was the resentment towards you that consumed her.Â
Months ago, the two of you made your way to your favourite restaurant, walking along the street with your arms linked together as you exchanged soft glances and loud laughter. Only an hour later did you walk out together, stuck in a screaming contest of whose words could do the most damage, before Alexia spotted someone with their phone out and walked away. You were left there, alone, with only the vicious words from the woman you thought youâd spent the rest of your life with as the only thing that remained of her. There was radio silence after that and it had stayed that way since.Â
You blamed her and she blamed you, even if it was a combination of you both at fault and neither of you the root cause of it. Despite that, not a word was exchanged about the fight, the pair of you too stubborn and head-strong in the worst way to be able to look each other in the eyes again after all the insults tossed back and forth.Â
The thing is⌠Alexia had just begun to accept the fact she regretted that day at the restaurant and everything to do with it when this happened. For weeks, sheâd spent her nights with only the company of the light from her phone screen, opened on your contact. Her mind cried out for her to press the call button, but her heart and its fear of getting hurt again won, and she never found it within herself to do it. Had you shown up to the Barça event on your own, the blonde would have rushed over to you the second she saw you, her tail between her legs as she begged for your forgiveness.
But then you brought a plus-one, and Alexia had never been more happy with herself over a decision than she had about not calling you.
The new girl on your arm was merely an unassuming passenger youâd brought along on this tumultuous joyride. You didnât like her that much, she was no blonde athlete, no love of your life, and it didnât help that you couldnât exactly remember her name without having to take a moment to think about it, but she knew her role and she played it well. Itâd only taken three shots together at a bar the previous night to convince her. Then, all you had to do was slap a confident smile on your face and enter the room the club had hired and brush off the, at least, forty pairs of eyes on you like they were nothing.Â
Except your smile faltered when you stepped inside, and everybody saw it. Everyone apart from the one person that mattered. It was too late to not go with the plan, however, so you did just that. In your defence, you believed you had no choice. But of course you did. There wasnât a gun to your head, no one knew, not even Patri, that you were bringing anyone. The downfall was all your own doing.
Every laugh, every smile, every joke, every arm wrapped around her waist and every sly whisper in your dateâs ear was purposeful, planned. You didnât even have to look to know Alexiaâs eyes were on youâ they never left. And your desperation for her attention never left either, though you wouldnât call it desperation, you called it⌠revenge. A pathetic attempt, however. And it was rather desperate.
The whole thing bordered on toxic, it was unhealthy, yet⌠it could only be the behaviour of two people that loved each other too much to let go for good. Neither of you were ready to accept that fact anytime soon, however. That you were still in love, and always would be.
Alexia hadnât brought anyone with her apart from her mother and sister because, in the time sheâd had you and lost you, not once did she even glance at anyone else. What was the point? When you lose the one person you married in your dreams as you slept beside them, everything else fades out of focus so that you can concentrate on breathing and blinking each day. Just the thought of having someone take your place made her feel sick. But she didnât care to delve into why she felt that way. She just assumed she was still achingly angry at you.Â
You didnât give a second thought to the sickening pit in your stomach, assuming it was the vitriol that still coursed through your veins, and that putting on the performance you were then was simply fuelling it. It wasnât guilt, it just couldnât be. It wouldnât make sense.Â
To Alba, it was a performance that was totally transparent, especially after she saw the glimpse of intimidation at your masterplan when you arrived. And with the way her sister was clutching her glass, if she held it any tighter, she feared it might have just smashed into pieces in her hand. The brunette had been seated front row to the sympathy party Alexia had been putting on these last months; it took a thousand times of asking for the midfielder to show any kind of emotion towards everyone left in her life. Two days before the Barça event, Alba had to lay into her, to at least try to pull her head out her ass and remember that she still had people around who actually loved her.
The blonde didn't care about a soul anymore, and that fact became obviously clear when Eli tried to pull her daughter into a conversation with someone else's mother, only to receive some kind of grunt or grumble in response. Eli rolled her eyes and politely excused herself from the conversation, grabbing Alexia's hand afterwards and scolding her quietly. Alexia hardly caught a word she said. Not when it was the exact moment you chose to shoot a sly, triumphant smirk in her direction, which elicited a disapproving, down-right angry, and bordering on possessive scowl to her brow and frown to her mouth.
That only spurred you on; then you grabbed your dateâs hand and, with a look in your eye Alexia had been on the receiving end of many memorable times, you headed to the bathroom. Like you were at some club, drunk on a night-out with no inhibitions, and not at Alexiaâs place of work.Â
A huff left her mouth and she slammed her glass down on the nearest table with the intention to follow you in and fire some colourful words your way, but Alba stopped her. The younger Putellas knew exactly what Alexia was going to do, and sheâd be damned if she let her embarrass herself here of all places. She was thinking with her heart once again, not her head, and she didnât have the best track record of doing so. The state of your relationship together was enough proof.
âGet off me, Alba. Now is not the- where are we going?!â She exclaimed in a hushed tone, trying (but failing) to not draw attention to them. Next thing she knew, she was in the smoking area outside the function room thatâd been hired, her mother and sister both fixing her with warningful stares. âWhat is wrong with you both?â
âYou need to leave her alone, Ale. Donât cause a scene at work.â Alba said calmly, hands on her hips and hardly flinching at the outburst Alexia had afterwards.
âMe? Have you seen her?! What she is doing? She is causing a scene at my work and I am supposed to sit there and watch her?!â Her hands gestured wildly and uncontrollably, so much so that both women in front of her took a few steps backwards. She kicked at a non-existent stone under her foot on the cobbled ground and cursed under breath, mumbling a few choice words that had her mother lightly hitting her on the back of the head.
âYou do not call another woman that! On my deathbed you ever say that word again, Alexia.â Eli had that same dagger glare to her eyes that worked on Alexia when she was a child. Even as a woman in her thirties, it still evoked fear in her, and her fury took a backseat after that as she apologised quietly. âWhat she does is not your business anymore. You need to let her go.âÂ
âLet her go.â Alexia repeated with a pitiful laugh, slumping back against the wall and putting her hands on her knees.Â
She knew she had to let you go, and she was trying, why didnât anyone see that? No matter what she did or how much time passed by, you were still the only person she thought about. You never left her mind, even if it did make her want to smash her head against the mirror she looked into every morning where sheâd only see a reflection of herself when it should be you next to her.Â
Nobody saw it because it wasnât the reality. She loved you as much as she did the first day she saw you. Things were just more complicated now, because suddenly your futures were at stake. One future together that was happy, or two lifetimes of chasing an ounce of the devotion you felt when you were with each other. There was a mountain to climb or there was the cowardâs way out.
âI need to let her go.â She said again, this time with more determination. She stood up straight, shook off the frustration she felt, and nodded at them both. âI will.â
Then, she headed straight back inside. But Eli and Alba shared a knowing look. Alexia wore her heart on her sleeve, she always had done. The two knew Alexia better than anyone, yet even they hadnât seen her like this before, and that only meant one thing. Eli rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh, meanwhile Alba wanted nothing more than to smash your heads together.
â
You donât know why you did it. How you thought it could ever possibly be a good idea was a mystery to you as you sat in the back of a taxi in awkward silence with your date whose number you would delete the second she stepped out of the car.Â
Nevermind Alexia, youâd made a fool of yourself with such a fake, pathetic attempt at showing how seamlessly you had moved on. It was completely forced and you were almost certain that everyone in the room could see that.Â
The minute you walked in earlier, adrenaline and the need for revenge took over. You acted on autopilot, the devil on your shoulder decided what to do and didnât care to run it past you before it happened. Honestly, the whole night was mostly a blur. All you could remember was the expression Alexia wore and the cocktail of emotions you could see in her eyes from across the room.Â
Her anger didnât hurt, her judgement didnât hurt, it was the disappointment so clear on her face that hurt. Like youâd stooped lower than she ever thought you would, which you knew was exactly what youâd done. But the second you saw Alexia leave, she shot one last look your way, which seemed⌠dejected, with a hint of longing in her eyes. So, perhaps seeing you with someone else had done exactly what you wanted, but you didnât get the satisfaction you thought you would. No, as you drove in silence in the taxi back to your empty apartment with walls that had stories to tell of the two of you, you knew what you felt then was guilt in all its entirety. Guilt and regret.
Guilt, which youâd so vehemently denied earlier, yet were drowning in it when all was said and done. So when the tears that built in your eyes as you thanked the taxi driver and got out of the car finally fell, you didnât wipe them away. You had no business doing that when they were the consequence of your own actions.Â
Crying wouldnât rewind time so you could take back such a stupid and naive decision. Crying wouldnât make you feel any better at the behaviour the people you valued as your own witnessed and no doubt judged you heavily for. Crying wouldnât get Alexia back.Â
But you didnât want her back, so you quickly wiped your face with the sleeve of your coat when you walked into your apartment building. Your neighbour from a few doors down was there, waiting for the elevator, and the look of pity he gave at the sight of you was enough to have you turning on the spot and walking right out again.Â
It contradicted your last thought entirely, about not wanting her back. But you didnât care, because you could not stand the idea of going home to an all too quiet and empty apartment. That didnât mean you wanted her back though. Sheâd said some borderlin- sheâd said some really unforgivable stuff in the restaurant. Even if you had kind of forgotten some of the things she spat at you, you knew she had and sheâd meant it.Â
You wanted a drink. Needed one, actually. So your destination choice was the local supermarket, which was a couple minutes away. As you headed towards it, the cool air of the evening dried your tears, leaving tracks that still glimmered under the streetlights, the warm white reflecting the shame that burned inside you for everyone that passed by to see. It was a vulnerable moment, but you did it to yourself, so it didnât matter. You wandered the streets in the dark, alone, just like you did after that time at the restaurant.Â
God, you would have done anything to know what Alexia was thinking earlier. You knew she was angry, that could have been clear even to Stevie Wonder, but there was something different, deeper, under the surface that you caught a glimpse of and it lingered in your mind. You had to stop thinking about her.Â
That was an impossible task when she was in everything you saw. The alleyways you snuck off into on date nights, the cafes you ate breakfast in the mornings after whilst sat across the table from each other with bashful smiles and flushed cheeks, benches you would sit on together as you watched the world go by in front of you. All these sentimental places you walked by, where nothing had changed for them, meanwhile everything had changed for you.Â
Things had changed between you both since, yet at the same time, nothing had changed at all.
The supermarket you went to, it was the same one the two of you would walk around together, picking and choosing what ingredients you would use for the next dish you cooked. You should have realised what shop you were going to end up at, but clearly critical thinking wasnât your best skill at that time.Â
You roamed the aisles, a basket on your arm, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart that was in tune with the continuous cycle of your mind. It told the same story you had shunned for some time, you were determined not to let it get to you that night. But just like your walk here, the shop showed no sign of anything that had ended, and it gave no instruction on how to forget that it had.Â
You picked your poison and put it in the basket. Then you got another bottle of the same drink, so there was one to have on the way home and one to keep you company on the sofa.Â
All was going well until you began to make your way to the exit. The aisle you chose to walk down to get to the tills was probably the worst one you could. The most unsuspecting, but undeniably the worst. Just as your mind finally let you think about something else, you spotted something on the bottom shelf that shattered the facade you had worked so hard to build.
Lavender laundry detergent. Unassuming? Yes. But in no time at all, it no longer was just a bottle of detergent. And it was fucking stupid.Â
Suddenly, it was late Sunday evenings when Alexia would force you out of bed so that she could put on fresh sheets, adamant it was the perfect reset for a new week. Suddenly, it was the way she would pick you up and lay you down on the bed afterwards, giving an apology in the form of soft, gentle, slow, unrushed kisses because nights together felt timeless. Suddenly it was the feeling of her clothes against your skin, of tangled limbs in the early hours of the morning, of home.Â
It wasnât fair. None of it was.Â
The breakup, the ambush at the clubâs gathering, the weeks without each other, the tears that fell again.Â
Your stomach twisted at the thought that hit you soon after. It should have been obvious, long ago. But so much time had passed, so much animosity, it initially seemed irreparable. How could she forgive you? And when had you forgiven her?
âDisculpe? EstĂĄ bien?âÂ
No, you werenât. Coming face to face with a decision you had detested for months wasnât something you could just sit back and watch.
It was a decision you had to actively take.
â
âAlexia?âÂ
She put her foot through the ball just as you spoke, sending it flying over the crossbar.Â
âAlba told me you would be here.âÂ
Alba?Â
Ignoring you, she collected another ball and meticulously set it up outside of the box.Â
âPlease.âÂ
She geared up to take the free-kick, and this time, the net rippled and the sound echoed off of the houses around as it nestled in the top corner. The football pitch near her childhood home was often a place she went to when she needed time on her own. And God did she have a lot of it lately.Â
Alexia gave as much as she was willing to; she turned her body to face you, hands on her hips, though she kept her eyes averted. It was an offer, not an invite.
âI⌠I came here with so much to say but now I donât know where to start.â
The captain had mastered the act of coming across as stoic and unbothered. There, in front of you, she seemed emotionless and totally unbothered by your sudden appearance. The sharp sting of a lump in her throat told a different story.Â
She had spent so long convincing herself this moment would never come, that you had given up on the idea entirely, which she knew was selfish to put this whole thing on your shoulders, but still. Then there you were, in front of her, looking at her like she was still something that mattered.Â
Her shoulders tried to slump but she stood up straighter, her expression and her body language steady and unwavering in its coldness. Her jaw was tensed, her fingers curled into fists, eyes unblinking, almost like she was trying to bring on the anger she was supposed to feel. But the tears welled anyway, traitorously burning behind her eyes, and she had to blink them back before they betrayed her.Â
âI need you, Alexia. And I donât know why Iâve spent the past months telling myself I donât.âÂ
You bared your soul in the hopes she did the same thing in return.Â
In the last few weeks that led to this moment, Alexia thought the nights she spent wishing for this very scene to play out would have prepared her for hearing those words. It hadnât worked, and the love she felt for you came rushing back, weaving in between the cracks sheâd tried so hard to seal. It was a miracle she didnât fall to your feet there and then.Â
A part of her wanted to scoff and tell you it was too late. Those werenât her true feelings. The way her nails dug into the palms of her hands and how the half of her heart she had left battered against her chest as it tried to escape, tried to make its way to you again, they shone a light on the truth that had long taken hold of her. She hated how easily she folded at the sound of your voice and the honesty within it, but you canât hate who you donât love.
Regardless, she swallowed hard, the lump not budging an inch, and she forced her face to stay blank as she replied.
âYou donât get to say that.âÂ
Her voice was steadier than she felt, but even as the words left her tongue, her resolve wavered slightly.Â
âI know, but I am saying it.â You took a step closer. On that occasion, she met your gaze. âIâve been a horrible person, and what I did yesterday, it⌠I donât know why I did it. I donât have any excuses or reasons why. Iâm just sorry. Iâm so⌠so sorry.â
Still, she didnât say a word. You didnât blame her. Begging for her forgiveness with your tail between your legs wasnât a pretty sight.Â
âI forgive you for what happened at the restaurant and I did a long time ago. I canât do this life thing without you, I donât know how I did it before you but I definitely canât do it after without you. I love you. Itâs only you.â
Words spilled out of you in a frantic manner as you filled the silence she left. Alexia stood rooted to the spot, absorbing every single syllable that you uttered. She saw the way your hands fidgeted and how youâd look her in the eye before glancing away, intimidated by her lack of reaction. It was like you were searching both her and the environment around for anything to tell you where you stood with her. Truthfully, the midfielder wasnât sure.
Relief swarmed her chest so wholly it almost hurt, though her mind was still catching up. She wanted to tell you she heard you, that she forgave you, that she loved you, but⌠she couldnât. Not yet, anyway. So she let you stumble through apologises and half-finished confessions whilst she tried to remember how to breathe again.Â
âPlease. I n-need you. I need you more than Iâve ever needed anything. I⌠I donât know what else to say.âÂ
When so much time passed between you showing up and her giving away not a hint at how she felt, you began to feel embarrassed. Humiliated. Ashamed that you could drive away the one person you believed genuinely loved you.
You didnât know what else to say, but you werenât about to see her walk away from you again like last time. It hurt too much. If she didnât want you in her life, then you would make the decision for her. You did have some common decency.
Itâs just, when you turned and took your first step away from her, you couldnât exactly take your second when a familiar hand grabbed your wrist and spun you back around. Though, she hesitated in her next plan of action, and it gave you a chance to see the stream coming from her eyes. Before you got the chance to apologise or run away or cry tears of your own, you were engulfed in an embrace. An embrace that was steady, strong, secure, like the ones you had gotten used to before everything went wrong.
âIâm still mad at you for what you did.âÂ
She sobbed into your neck as she spoke, her shoulders shaking with her cries, and somehow it was the most cathartic moment of your life.Â
âI know.âÂ
â
happy ending... question mark? đ reverie national team fic is actively being worked on! this is just something i got the idea for the other day and it stuck in my mind since, though it looks nothing like i thought it would (i hate it sm) best believe im putting alllll my time and love and care and effort into the reverie nt fic!
520 notes
¡
View notes