#he LOVES to drive and run interference
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gordon-furman · 13 days ago
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claude! ft. @featheredcritter's oc Nick!
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girlkisser13 · 3 months ago
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being married to spencer reid would include
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• spencer is very gentle with you, not because he thinks you’re fragile, but because he loves you so much and couldn’t bear to hurt you in any way.
• the two of you have a designated "no serial killer talk" time.
• your home is filled with shelves upon shelves of books, with new ones constantly being added. spencer likes to surprise you with rare editions or books he thinks you’d love.
• spencer isn’t the most outwardly expressive, but he shows his love through small, thoughtful gestures. he leaves notes in your favorite books and brew your coffee exactly how you like it before you wake up.
• due to his work, spencer can be a bit overprotective. he’d worry about your safety but would do his best not to let it interfere with your happiness.
• spencer would cherish the quiet moments you spend together, whether it’s reading side by side, watching classic films, or simply enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence.
• the two of you have annual matching halloween costumes that somehow get exponentially better each year.
• though he’s often serious, spencer has a sharp wit and a subtle sense of humor that would come out more often around you, making you laugh when you least expect it.
• spencer is incredibly caring and would always make sure you feel loved and appreciated. he’d be attuned to your emotions and would do his best to make you feel better when you’re down.
• he overcame his hatred for driving for you but only because you got drunk with jj, emily, and penelope and needed a ride home.
• date nights with spencer range from museum visits and bookshop crawls to stargazing or attending a lecture on a topic you’re both curious about. he’d love to create unique experiences that align with both your interests.
• SOO many coffee dates.
• though he might not be overly demonstrative in public, in private, spencer is incredibly affectionate. he’d hold your hand while reading, leave gentle kisses on your forehead, and give you reassuring hugs after a long day.
• he calls you before each flight to let you know where he’s headed for a case or to tell you when he’s finally coming home. although he usually doesn’t have time to call when he lands because he has to hit the ground running with the case, he always makes sure to send you a text to let you know they landed safely.
• he bought you a stuffed animal to cuddle with when he’s gone. he was nervous about giving it to you and had an entire speech prepared, explaining how they could be beneficial in many cases.
• spencer likes to leave sweet, thoughtful notes for you around the house, often filled with his favorite quotes, little reminders of his love, or even just a simple "have a great day" message in the morning.
• your relationship is built on a mutual love of learning. whether it’s sharing articles, watching documentaries, or attending seminars, you’d constantly be expanding your horizons together.
• spencer LOVES cuddling with you. he finds a lot comfort in your presence. he’d often pull you close while reading or watching tv, enjoying the simple pleasure of being close to you.
• in some ways, being in love with you scares him because he’s never felt this way before. but in other ways, it excites him because he now has someone to share himself with, judgment-free, and a partner to experience life’s highs and lows with.
• this man knows you better than any subject he’s ever studied. <33
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lssugaluv · 8 months ago
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Of course when you’re running late, all ready to go have some girl time does your boyfriend has to interfere. He couldn’t resist how hot you looked all dolled up to go hang out with your girls.
You grab your purse and look at yourself one more time in the mirror, fixing yourself. “Baby, I’m leaving.”
“Give me a kiss darling.” Says your boyfriend who is stuck playing video games online with his friends.
“But baby, the girls are outside waiting for me.”
He of course doesn’t take no for an answer as he grabs onto your wrist and pulls you in, leaving no space in between you two. He gently cusps your chin having you look directly at him as he is staring at your lips. He crashes his lips with yours and you wrap your arms around his neck. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and your tongues meet. He groans a bit as you moan.
He reaches down to your breasts gripping on them. He begins to want to pull your body suit out from your pants and you push his hand out of the way. You reach down to his growing bulge coming from his shorts and you give him a tease. You cause him to groan again which drives you crazy. You then push him away and turn to the mirror just to see you lipstick disappear. You rush to the bathroom to touch up and come back to your room to see him covered in your lipstick.
And yes, you feel your underwear completely drenched but time is running out to change.
“Ahh I’m extra late. Gotta go baby.” You reach in for one more kiss and try to wipe his face quickly.
“Have fun gorgeous. You’ll get some later, love ya.”
Character’s who I think of that will do this;
• Atsumu, Ushijima, Kuroo, Terushima, Suna, Tsukkishima, Daichi, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, Kita.
• Just some random thoughts I had of this morning.
• Enjoy ☺️
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disneyprincemuke · 11 months ago
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in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver
a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down
pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver
notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise
(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)
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she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"
"are you stupid?" logan asks.
"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"
"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.
"i'm just making sure!"
"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."
"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"
logan huffs. "tell that to her."
she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.
"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"
oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"
"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"
"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."
"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.
"sore loser!"
"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."
"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.
"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"
"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."
"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."
"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"
"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"
"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"
"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."
"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."
"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."
"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"
"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."
"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"
"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."
"so you snuck into seb's office instead."
"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"
"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.
"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.
"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"
"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"
"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"
"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."
"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"
"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"
she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."
logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."
"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"
"start the race, cunt!"
oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."
"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."
"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"
"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.
"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"
"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.
almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.
"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"
"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"
up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.
with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.
if only the boys had listened to her.
she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.
"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.
surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.
the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.
when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.
she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.
behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.
it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.
she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.
the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.
she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.
she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.
"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.
it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.
if only she'd been looking ahead.
the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.
"oh, my god!"
"that's going to hurt."
"are you stupid?"
"are you okay?"
she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.
then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.
she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.
her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.
she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.
"it's not funny!"
"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"
tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"
"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."
"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"
"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"
"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"
"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"
"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."
"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"
"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicore @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando
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shellem15 · 5 months ago
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Okay, I know the Dawnfather and the other primes are running interference, but we NEED to get a full, one-on-one conversation between Asmodeus and Raei (I need it. So bad.) It would hurt so much but so GOOD. I know the hardest bars would be dropped, fucking "My greatest heartbreak...is that I will only have eternity to punish them" levels of bitterness and resentment.
Especially considering what we learn about them in the intro! Imri was straight up ready to die for Luz! Fucker threw himself into the goddamn flames for her!
You know there's so much angst over that. Over how she apologized before healing him. Is Asmodeus hung up on that? About how he sacrificed himself out of love and all she gave in return (in his mind obvs) was guilt? Does he think that's why she tried to save him during Calamity? Not out of love but out of guilt for trapping him?
Asmodeus, who was changed (change, a thing he hates above all else) for her. Who refuses to be changed ever again. Who would hurt the ones he loves in his pursuit of revenge. Who loves his hatred more than he loves his siblings.
The Everlight, who was just trying to help her brother. Who was just trying to help the world. Who got stabbed in the back for her efforts. Does she regret it? Trying to help him? Does she regret saving him on that ship in the first place?
Perhaps Torog is right. Perhaps death would have been the greatest mercy for him. Anything that isn't pain, that isn't all-consuming hatred.
Imagine if she told him that. How much that would fucking hurt him (them both). If it was a lie, would he know? Would he call her out on it?
Probably, I imagine. He'd probably say something like: "Mortals think we are different. That you are honest while I am not. But between us, you've always been the better liar. The greatest, cruelest lie that's ever been told, is that there is any mercy to be found in this wretched world."
TLDR, this miniseries is driving me insane.
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prettyoatmeal · 2 years ago
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MORE John Price Headcanons While You're Dating
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Part 2 to this!
Since SO many people (like 4) were asking for me to do a part 2, here it is! Enjoy! A/N at the end!
Genre: Fluff! Smut after the buffer.
Summary: Just some more headcanons I've thought of. GN reader, no mentions of Y/N.
Content Warnings: NSFW After buffer.
Masterlist here!
***************
Big big big big boy.
He's quite muscular, got that meat on him (I mean, hell. Look at those shoulders). This means he needs to buy pretty large sized clothing for himself when he's out shopping.
This also means that they're a perfect size for you, able to very easily slide into a shirt of his and just wear that with how long it is on you.
They're just so comfy and baggy and cover you up so well, they're nice for when you don't feel like wearing something form fitting or if yours are in the wash.
John would definitely approve.
They'd smell like him, like home, how could you not wear them every now and again?
If you asked really nicely, John would get you a personal travel bottle of his cologne to keep on you at all times.
If you two are deployed, then he'd definitely pack a few extra shirts and sweaters of his because he knows you'll want some with you in the barracks. Maybe sleep in them or use them as a pillow case.
Seeing you in his clothes would definitely rile him up, seeing how the shirt gathers around your hips especially would leave a lasting effect on him. Expect his hands to be all over you.
You'd get the same reaction from him from wearing something more form fitting.
Wearing something that hugs your curves and shows off how great you look?
Oh boy.
It would drive him mad.
Would purposefully buy you shirts or those bike shorts in a half size too small and blame it on forgetting your size or being an 'accident' just to watch you try them on and gaze how the fabric squeezes around your chest and thighs.
Would definitely get heart eyes from that.
"John, are you sure this is my size?" as you finally pull the shirt over your chest, feeling how constricting the fabric is.
"Is or isn't, you look divine!"
If you wear a proper compression shirt, he'd probably die on the spot.
please please please please wear one.
No matter how thick or thin you are, he'd love every bit of how you look, and he'd definitely make that well known to you.
Definitely the kind to love playing with your hair, especially if it's long. He'd love braiding it, brushing it, running his fingers through it, literally anything,
Loves feeling how soft it is right after you wash it.
Will probably offer to help you dry it.
"Allow me," typa guy for sure.
He'd also be very big on communication.
He's had a lot of experience and has realised that bottling feelings up and keeping them locked away can only make the situations worse.
If you notice he's particularly upset, would always vent to you (If you're comfy w that of course) just to get how he's feeling out of the way, hoping it won't interfere with anything else.
Not one to pull the silent treatment, in fact, he hates it. If you're the kind to pull the silent treatment, he would egg it out of you one way or another.
"I'm too old for this, spit it out," in the kindest way possible.
He knows how draining it is physically and mentally to keep your emotions to yourself, so he'd always convince you to finally let it all loose.
Please tell him how you're feeling, especially if he's the person you're upset with. It breaks his heart seeing you upset and will 100% do everything in his power to make the situation right again.
The type to get grumpy or emotional when he's sleepy. Sometimes he just needs a soft chest or soft tummy to lay his head on and he'll be out like a light.
If you would let him sleep on top of you, that is. All that muscle would be pretty heavy so unless he knew you could take it, little spoon would do just fine for him.
Yeah, he'd love being little spoon. Loves feeling your arms pulling him deeper into your chest.
John is pretty dominant in a traditional sense, very masculine, a fierce leader, knows exactly what he wants and how he's going to get it, but he's also a massive softie and will do anything and everything to have your full attention when he's in the mood.
Yes, he wants to be little spoon, yes, he will also lead an army of men through a battlefield. They exist.
__________________
NSFW
He's an ass man, 100%.
Y'know how I said he'll 'accidentally' buy smaller sizes just to see how the material so perfectly forms itself to your curves?
Yeah, this is why.
Will grab and slap your ass at every chance he gets (with your consent, ofc) even in the most innocent of situations.
Whether you're bending down to pick up something you've dropped, over the kitchen counter while pulling something down from the top shelves, or just leaning over the dinner table to wipe it down, SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Jolting you forward.
Loves to hear that high pitched, surprised shriek coming from your mouth at the sudden impact of his hand on your behind.
Backshots with him would be crazy, fingers intertwined with your hair, pushing your face into the mattress as he pounds into you from behind.
Doggy or reverse cowgirl would be his favourite positions because he just gets that full view of your ass jiggling with each bounce or each thrust from his hips.
Definitely wouldn't be gentle, but wouldn't be too rough either, that perfect balance.
Maybe a bit rougher when he's desperate or releasing some pent up stress, but all in all, he wouldn't dare to hurt you unless its the very occasionally slap on the ass or thighs.
I feel like it would be out of his comfort zone as well. Seeing how prominent his hand prints can be after spanking, seeing them on your face or anywhere else would probably make him upset during the process.
Spanking would be the furthest he'd go, making sure the skin is red and raw.
Would stop if he notices you're crying. Breaks his heart.
On the contrary, will gladly make you cry with his head between your legs. Feeling how you twitch against his mouth every time he makes you cum brings a smile to his lips.
VERY focused on making you cum first. Very focused on making sure you're comfortable ad satisfied all the way.
Definitely prefers to be dominant in bed, likes having that control.
Daddy kink probably.
He probably wouldn't make too much noise in bed, maybe a few groans and whines. But would for sure be a dirty talker.
"Yeah, that feels good, doesn't it?"
"Sucking daddy's cock- fuck, -so well, Gorgeous.."
"So fucking tight, aint ya. Mmh, fuck, keep squeezing around me like that, Dove."
Will only let out a classic moan for when he cums.
"That's it, gonna fill you up so good- ahh~!"
Surprising at first since he'd never made all that much sound before but the more you know.
Its totally hot though.
King of aftercare, tbh.
Would gladly carry you everywhere after you've become too sore to walk anywhere yourself.
Even if you can walk after a pounding, will still carry you. Gotta be treated like royalty after letting him slam into your holes like that.
Boy, did it feel good.
***************
I somehow accidentally deleted the first draft of this I made so this turned out a lot shorter than I first wanted it to :(
Also why it took so long lol. I swear, idk why my Tumblr is bugging so much but losing like 2k words after I've worked on it all day literally broke my heart.
Probably don't expect a part 3, but after having a few days to myself, my motivation has defo returned haha.
Goodnight!! <33
Tags: @mind-nine @tapioca-marzipan @underthestarwars @avalkyrieofparis
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neptuneiris · 1 year ago
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sparks (02/04)
And I know, I was wrong But I won't let you down
pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader
summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.
word count: 8.8k
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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IT'S HERE! MY GOD-i'm so excited for you to read this, I'm really enjoying writing this fic so much and your comments and opinions make me very happy, and I'll be waiting anxiously to answer them:)
I also want to thank you for the incredible support for the first part, it was simply amazing! thank you for reading, commenting and reblogging, it means a lot to me beautiful people❤
now i won't stop you anymore, enjoy and wait anxiously for the next part!
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As the sun slowly sets on the horizon, you and Aemond arrive at the majestic event venue of one of the most luxurious hotels in the city.
You are both dressed elegantly, he in an impeccable black suit and you in a stunning metallic ocean blue dress, the same color of the sapphire that Aemond wears in his empty socket and also his favorite color.
You have always waited for the ideal moment to wear this color of dress and match perfectly with Aemond, knowing too well and so does he that this night is very important.
The whole street and around has the passage completely obstructed for outsiders, there are police cars guarding the whole area along with security guards to allow the entrance to the hall of the huge hotel where the whole event will happen to the people who have been required.
You along with Aemond are allowed to pass through easily, while you watch through the window as all the press goes crazy and take pictures of absolutely everything, especially the car, as they know that inside is the Heir to Targaryen Inc.
There are a lot of cameras, a lot of light and above all a lot of people.
You feel how Aemond's hand gently squeezes yours, bringing his body a little closer towards yours, observing everything just like you and feeling perfectly how anxiety starts to run through his body, as well as he starts to feel a knot in his stomach.
The magnitude of the event and the amount of people gathered there started to make him feel nervous even though he has attended these events before.
But especially now he feels that way because he knows that all eyes will be on him now that he is his father's Heir.
He knows he hasn't even gotten out of the car and he's already the center of attention, so he imagines what a disaster it will be by the time he's finally in full view of all the photographers.
You immediately notice the change in his facial expression and gently stroke his arm with your free hand, comforting him, watching him with understanding and giving him all the support you can, letting him know that this is what you are here for and that he is not alone.
Aemond feels a little more reassured to feel your touch and closeness, feeling lucky to have you by his side at this crucial important moment in his life's work.
He doesn't even understand how he had thought of coming here earlier by himself, without you. He doesn't know what he would have done.
However, good times can't last forever.
Confused you watch through the car windows as Criston continues to drive slowly along, passing the main entrance to the hall where all the businessmen and also women with their companions have their pictures and videos taken.
Thing you've done with Aemond before but… now it looks like that won't be the case.
"Where are we going?"
"Love, I need you to do this for me."
You ask him watching him with your frown, to which Aemond looks nervous, anguished and sorrowful, holding his hand more firmly with yours.
Then you watch how Cole parks at another entrance on the other side of the hotel…. where there is absolutely no one, just security guards.
He starts to say to you as he gets fully incorporated in the seat, leaning towards you, not letting go of your hand and speaking to you in a rushed tone out of nerves, as you turn your gaze to him confused.
"I need you to go through that door, Hel should already be waiting for you. I'll meet you in there, okay?"
His words definitely throw you off, watching him with great attention and slight surprise.
"Why?"
He stirs in his seat as he sees the confusion in your eyes, also as little by little sadness begins to creep in, feeling more anguished than before but having to ask this of you, even though he doesn't agree.
"It will only be for this moment, I promise. Once we meet in there, we'll be together."
"But why don't you want me to come in together with you?"
He lets out a long breath, starting to worry.
And despite his explanation, you can't help but feel sad and annoyed as you watch him still intently with your brows furrowed, not saying or doing anything for a few seconds, the realization becoming clearer.
"It's not that I don't want love, it's just that my grandsire has asked to take pictures of us with Rivers and his uncle."
He explains to you with a sad look.
"And I don't want them to take pictures of you standing apart and start publishing them in magazines talking things about you. At least there's no one here and it will be safer."
"Sir, we have to go now. They're waiting for you."
Cole alerts him from the pilot's seat, watching you in the rearview mirror, and Aemond again watches you, insistent and concerned.
"Love, please," he murmurs to you under his breath.
You avoid looking him in the eye as you now resignedly let go of his hands almost abruptly and coldly and then grab your handbag and begin to quickly exit the car.
You lower your gaze as you press your lips together, feeling the discomfort coursing through your body, trying to control your true emotions, but you can't.
You definitely didn't expect this.
Aemond lets out a long breath.
"Please don't be angry, love."
He tells you pleading and sad, but you don't look at him or say anything to him, you just get out of the car and close the door to quickly head to the huge door with a lump in your throat and with a sharp pain in your chest.
You truly understand the importance of this event for him and the company, you were the one who insisted on coming too, but you definitely didn't deserve this, to be hidden away as if you were an intruder and didn't belong here.
And Aemond at all times is not calm and has barely started the night.
Once he gets out of the car, as you also enter the hall where the whole event will be held, inside and outside the bustle of the crowd and conversations fill the air.
He meets his grandsire, Alys Rivers and Larys Strong, while you meet Helaena.
You also see other family members of Aemond that you also know, like his half-sister Rhaenyra and his uncle Daemon Targaryen, also his nephews and cousins, his mother and his brothers, Aegon and Daeron.
Even Helaena didn't know she would be so busy, apologizing to you for how little time you have to catch up, but you assure her that all is well, when the truth is not.
You thought that with them everything would be easier to get along with, like before, especially after what just happened, since you always got along well with his family.
But this event is too important since the Targaryens are the center of attention and everyone is busy, even the cousins and nephews.
The whole place is absolutely grand and elegant, the whole atmosphere has an aura of prestige and sophistication like all the people present.
The room has tall, wide windows that offer breathtaking views of the city, illuminated by the night lights, as the hotel is located in the upper suburbs.
At one end of the hall there is a raised stage where presentations and speeches will take place, there is also sound and projection equipment, also an area for the press. But for the moment, there is a group of musicians.
Silk tapestries add touches of warmth and luxury throughout, as well as large crystal chandeliers hang from the high vaulted ceiling, casting flashes of light.
There are tables carefully decorated with white linen tablecloths, as well as comfortable and elegant chairs with high backs.
Finally there is the luxurious bar, where drinks are free and there are two male bar tenders at disposal.
You head there, wanting to have a drink to calm your spirits, unconsciously waiting for Aemond, being here alone and not feeling… not at all well.
There are already a considerable number of people entering the hall, all the businessmen with their wives, sons and daughters, also their assistants, while you watch as all the Targaryen greet everyone and are cordial with elegance in their clothes, postures and out-of-this-world appearance.
While you stand apart, sipping your glass of wine, observing everything. Then you take your phone from your bag to entertain yourself for a moment, when then, Aemond appears.
But not alone, but with Alys Rivers.
This doesn't bother you, on the contrary, Aemond was completely honest with you telling you that they wanted to take pictures of the two of them and that's what happens, while you see him with his serious and cold face standing at the entrance with her and then a small part of the press inside the room taking more pictures of them.
But that's not what catches your attention or what bothers you, what does is that this woman is wearing a dress the same color as yours.
You hide your surprise very well while at the same time a mixture of emotions completely overwhelms your inner self, watching how she poses and smiles with such elegance towards the cameras next to him, completely pleased.
It seems that she is his companion, not you.
Compared to your dress, hers is completely fitted to her body and reaches above her knees, wearing black high heels, with her hair pulled back in an elegant bun with black locks falling on either side of her face.
While yours is completely long and a little looser without straps, wearing silver high heels with your hair completely loose styled in slight waves. (click here)
Normally the color of the dress wouldn't have mattered to you, but you see the way she poses and behaves with him in front of the press, while those people with their cameras ask them for more and look pleased too, asking them to be closer to each other.
It really looks like she is his escort, totally overshadowing you.
At that moment, your self-confidence fades and discomfort comes over you, also annoyance. You try to keep your composure but the tension all over your body is too much, instantly looking away from them and feeling an incredible urge to cry.
It's just a dress, don't overreact.
You tell yourself, saying you shouldn't react, not here, not now knowing that this is important to Aemond and his family, that you are really his companion, not her and that eventually everyone will see that.
But you can't help it… you feel humiliated.
You take a huge gulp from your wine glass, averting your gaze from everything and everyone, focusing on the city lights through the large windows, enduring more of the urge to cry and let out everything you're feeling.
Though clearly Aemond doesn't have a hard time finding you all over the hall.
"Hey."
You hear him approach and he gently takes your arm and turns you towards him, watching you with full attention, while you take the last sip of your glass of wine, watching him afterwards without emotion.
"Hey."
You look away and call the bar tender, asking him to refill your drink, still feeling the discomfort all over your body as Aemond knows perfectly well how you must be feeling.
And he watches you hopefully, wanting you to say something, anything, even giving you his full attention, wanting to be with you and only you after such a stressful and unnecessary entrance to this boring event.
But nothing. You don't say or do anything to him.
"Love, I'm so sorry," he tells you honest and sad.
Again you say nothing to him, acting completely unconcerned, your face neutral and emotionless.
"Seriously, about before I didn't want to do it but my grandsire insisted and she…" he pauses, letting out a long breath as he runs a hand over his face, "I'm sorry. If I had known I would have—
"Don't worry about it."
You interrupt him, not wanting to talk about it anymore, certainly because you don't want to ruin his night any more and you don't want to stress him out any more when he must be getting enough to do and take care of tonight.
But he insists.
"I know you're upset and—
"I know perfectly well when you're lying to me."
"I'm not upset."
"I'm not upset. I haven't even said anything."
You tell him still watching him emotionlessly, clearly wanting to make yourself look as believable as possible with your words. Then at that moment the bar tender hands you your glass of wine and you begin to drink, going back to watching everyone.
But Aemond continues to watch you intently, concerned.
"Then say something, anything, please."
And that's when you start to react, starting to get annoyed with his attitude.
"And what do you want me to say?" you snap at him quietly, "I told you I'm not upset."
'At least not with you, just with the situation,' that's what you really want to say.
But you stay quiet, wanting to end the conversation once and for all, as you tried to do from the beginning but he keeps insisting.
"I don't know Y/N, just tell me something, whatever you want, but make it true," he also whispers quietly, moving closer to you to create more privacy between the two of you in public.
"Y/N! There you are, my dear!"
And before you can say anything back to him, at that moment a third voice interrupts the small discussion as it approaches towards both of you.
Alicent Hightower exclaims with a huge charming smile, sporting a beautiful emerald green dress and extravagant hairstyle, instantly enclosing you in a gentle but firm embrace which you reciprocate, now putting on your best face.
"Ah finally I see you after so long," she says lovingly in your ear, "I'm so sorry we couldn't talk when you arrived, as you can see we're all busy and it's crazy, like every time. But I'm so happy to see you."
She tells you as she pulls away from you and continues to watch you with her soft, comforting smile.
"Don't worry, I totally understand," you assure her with a small smile, "You look beautiful."
"Oh! Thank you," she observes to herself, still smiling, "You too my dear, absolutely beautiful."
You widen your smile a little more, for a moment feeling embarrassed since also a certain woman is wearing the same color as you, but you quickly push that thought away.
"Thank you so much."
"Come," she says to both of you, without letting go of your hand, "Rhaenyra has told me she wants to greet you, so does Daeron, before it all begins."
And this is what puts the discussion you were having with Aemond to a complete pause.
He follows you instantly, while you soon greet his half-sister and nephews, starting to catch up with all of them, also his cousins, Baela and Rhaena, who have always been absolutely charming and fun with you.
You also greet Aegon, who comes accompanied by his girlfriend, Cassandra Baratheon, where you know they are only dating because of an arrangement between his grandsire and her father, as the Baratheons also own an important company and thanks to their relationship, the two companies have partnered up.
You then talk to Daeron, who tells you that he is about to enter college along with Luke, his nephew, and then a very animated and happy Helaena joins in the conversation, the two of them making you totally forget everything that happened as soon as you and Aemond arrived at the hotel.
In fact when you and Helaena talk alone again, she mentions to you quietly that everyone knows what her grandsire is trying to do with Aemond and Alys Rivers, telling you right away that she doesn't agree nor does anyone else for that matter, only him.
She also tells you not to be intimidated by him, much less by that woman by briefly mentioning about the dress since of course she has noticed and assures you that you are not alone in any of this.
You are quite relieved and comforted by this, as you had given up hope the moment you saw Alys so pleased at Aemond's side, but now hearing this… it really makes you feel very relieved.
Then the whole event begins.
You take a seat next to Aemond at one of the tables that are right in front of the stage along with his entire family, as well as the other guests, while Otto Hightower takes the microphone and gives a brief welcome.
Aemond next to you takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, wanting to feel your touch despite what happened a few moments ago between the two of you and you leave him, where neither of you say anything.
Then businessmen begin to take the stage, each speaking on key topics in the banking industry, such as financial regulation, investments, digital banking, risk management, fintech technology and more.
These presentations are given by industry experts and thought leaders, including Otto Hightower and Larys Strong, the uncle of Alys Rivers.
Even Helaena takes the stage to talk about new acquisitions in Highgarden's company, also Daemon with Rhaenyra Targaryen.
They also offer the opportunity to pitch projects or seek investments related to banking, they also talk about acquisitions, mergers or strategic collaborations.
They also again talk about financial technology.
When it then comes time for all the businessmen to focus on establishing relationships that can lead to business opportunities, collaborations and alliances with other businessmen.
Aemond tells you that he will be back in a moment, telling you briefly that he will speak with Rodrik Greyjoy, also an important businessman who is the head of the Pike company, the most important company in the Iron Islands.
You just nod and he leaves, then you think you might talk to Hel or Daeron, even Jace or Baela for the moment, but as you watch them, the entire Targaryen family is again busy talking to different men with their wives and children.
You let out a long breath and stand there alone for a few moments observing everything around you, then decide to approach the bar again and order a glass of wine, which is what you usually always drink when you feel uneasy and anxious.
And standing with your glass again you observe everything, focusing on Aemond for a moment, watching him talking to Greyjoy, both a bit more apart from all the people and looking both very serious and professional with what they must be talking about.
You don't know how long you last like that, just standing there and nothing else, not really doing anything, just asking the bar tender to refill your glass every so often, making sure to always drink small amounts of your wine.
When then you notice it.
Being alone in a secluded corner of the huge hall, you see how two women a few meters away from you in long and more than elegant dresses, wearing valuable jewelry and with a look of superiority and also a little mocking, watching you.
This confuses you and catches your attention at the same time, watching out of the corner of your eye as both watch you from head to toe and talk quietly among themselves without disguise, you not understanding anything.
You observe yourself, wondering if there is something out of place in your appearance, since appearance is what matters most in events like these, but everything is still fine with you, so you do not understand what it is that draws their attention to you.
However, in the face of this you again feel your nerves coming and your confidence fading, feeling uncomfortable, out of place and with anxiety all over your body.
You turn around, leaning your elbows on the counter as you bite your lips and try to calm yourself, feeling that suddenly all eyes are on you, not understanding what is wrong with you.
When a voice speaks in your direction.
"I'm surprised to see you here, Y/N."
You leave your drink on the bar and turn around, coming face to face with Otto Hightower, who is also wearing a smart suit and has a serious, cold look on his face that shows unconformity in your direction.
And you have no idea what to say to him.
How is he surprised to see you here if you've come to these events before with Aemond?
"It's not what you wanted, I guess," you tell him with a certain bitter and serious tone, speaking to him in the same way he is speaking to you.
He bites the inside of his cheek, then settles next to you with an appropriate distance, calling the bar tender and asking for a glass of white wine, while you watch him intently throughout.
"No, of course it's not what I wanted and I'm relieved that at least you understand that," he finally tells you, serious and direct, "I told Aemond perfectly well that he shouldn't have brought you, but he's just as stubborn as his brother."
You bite your lips, avoiding speaking to him in a ruder tone than you should and also avoiding saying what you really want so as not to cause real trouble, with annoyance starting to course through your body.
"I'm his girlfriend," you tell him seriously and in a reminder tone.
"And this is work," he replies in kind, "And serious work. Something you wouldn't understand from working in a coffee shop."
You let out a snort.
"Are you trying to put me down?" you stare at him incredulously.
"I'm just being honest and seeing things as they really are," he says and doesn't give you a chance to speak, "My grandson is a successful man, just like his family. And he should surround himself with people just like him. Believe me I have made sure he is where he is now and I care deeply about his future," he says with a condescending tone, "Don't you?"
"Of course I do," you tell him instantly, "I've done nothing but support him."
He gives a fake smile.
"That's good to hear, exactly what I would expect from you, but I want you to understand one thing and I want you to get it right, Y/N."
He begins to tell you with his eyes never ceasing to look directly into yours, glowing with a cold and more than willing determination, his posture demanding power over you, making you feel small as you continue to watch him intently.
"You don't belong in this world," he tells you menacingly, "I've tolerated this nonsense from you and him long enough, but now that he is his father's successor and is in a higher position and with a promising future, I won't tolerate it anymore," he makes it clear to you, "You can't really offer anything important to Aemond and that's what we need, assurance and alliances for the good of the company."
He tells you in the cruelest tone of all, where even though you try to remain calm, you begin to feel insecure and lose your composure as you listen intently, feeling a sharp pain in your chest.
"And that's exactly what Alys Rivers can offer him."
Then your shoulders drop, your whole posture ceases to feel tense from the defeat invading you and you feel a deep ache all through you, feeling utterly small, helpless and vulnerable.
You lower your gaze with your lips parted, trying to control all your emotions as you feel your eyes glaze over and you feel a painful lump in your throat, not wanting to cry now in this place with him continuing to watch you intently.
Then you press your lips together in an expression of anguish and humiliation, unable to help yourself.
"Our family has built a reputation and that's the most important thing to us. And you don't fit in, you're just not of use, now do you understand what I mean?" he tells you expectantly.
But despite how he is making you feel, you try to defend yourself.
"Is money and reputation really more important to you? Don't you care about his happiness?"
"Aemond is not going to live on love, silly girl, neither the company," he tells you instantly annoyed, "So I hope that for the sake of him and his work, you will be the one to decide to end the relationship since he certainly won't," he tells you bitterly, "Alys Rivers is starting to lose patience and there is no way I am going to lose the opportunity of association with her company, have you understood?"
You watch him without saying anything, still with your sad look and also with the surprise to see his determination, the how he really doesn't care about Aemond's feelings, while he throws you his hateful look and continues to watch you more than threatening.
When then the sound of the microphone catches everyone's attention, also yours and his, watching the stage.
"Hum… excuse me? May I have your attention for a moment, ladies and gentlemen, please?"
Alys Rivers speaks, starting to get the attention of all the people who stop talking and focus on her, while you still feel all your overwhelming emotions.
"Good evening everyone, it's a pleasure to be here present with all of you," she smiles elegantly to the whole audience, clasping her hands together in front of her, "For those who don't know me, I introduced myself, I'm Alys Rivers, co-owner of the Riverlands company, nice to meet you."
She says as she radiates confidence and determination, reflecting her commitment and enthusiasm, as you watch the business wives smile at her throughout.
"I would like to take this moment to announce a very early association that I am still working on together with my company partner, Larys Strong," she says without stopping smiling at any moment, looking very happy and excited "So I would like to call to the stage my very soon to be partner, Mr. Aemond Targaryen."
Thunderous applause from all present can be heard throughout the hall, while you watch as Aemond smiles politely throughout as he walks up to the stage and makes his way to stand next to her, who also claps in his direction and watches him proudly.
And so together they appear confident and authoritative, as if they own the whole place, while Aemond waves and thanks the whole audience at the same time.
Then the applause fades and Alys speaks again.
"It is also an honor to announce before all of you, a collaboration of our two companies," she says proudly, "Since I first met Aemond, his vision and ethics impressed me deeply. We have shared many conversations and have discovered that our companies have common goals and values."
Aemond at her side nods in approval and continues.
"Our companies, Riverlands Group and Targaryen Incorporation have been at the forefront of financial innovation for years. So we have decided to join forces to empower our organizations."
Then Alys says something else, but you don't pay attention as Otto Hightower again speaks in your direction.
"Now you see?"
He says to you and you again feel that sharp pain in your chest as you turn your gaze to Alys and Aemond.
"That's the way things should be, the two of them together, a perfect complementation," he says confidently, "Even all the people here are pleased to see them together, the press too, that's what they expect, not a coffee shop employee next to the next head of the most important company in the country."
Each of his words and also the ones from before are like a dagger to your heart, feeling sadness, shame, humiliation and anguish.
The feeling is horrible, especially because you see how again all the people applaud for the two of them and the press starts taking pictures of the two of them together, while you feel trapped in a whirlwind of negative emotions that consumes you completely.
You watch as Aemond doesn't approach her at all, but she does, placing one of her hands on his arm, smiling and posing for the cameras, while you watch as Aemond tries to subtly pull away from her, but she won't let him.
You also know he won't say anything to her at that moment, not when the eyes of everyone in the place are on them and so are the cameras, so they continue to pose for more pictures to be taken.
"Enjoy the rest of the night."
Otto tells you with the fakest look and words of all, watching you for one last time then turning away from you and back to the crowd, complacently watching the show his grandson is putting on along with Alys Rivers.
And when you watch him walk away, at that moment you notice it again, the stares of the women.
This time you see how they and their husbands look in your direction, with curious looks and others with equally mocking looks, whispering among themselves, all of them watching you from head to toe, making you feel even worse.
They make you feel as if you are an intruder, as if you are the one who is wrong to be here, as if you are not Aemond's girlfriend and instead they accept Alys, looking at you as the bad guy, even with pity.
Then you feel you can't take it anymore and decide you've had enough.
Completely humiliated, you turn away from the bar and start looking all over the place for Cole, who you find at the main entrance along with more security guards, heading towards him quickly.
"Ms. Y/N?"
He says to you as you stand in front of him.
"Can you take me home?" you ask or rather plead, "I'm not feeling well."
"Do you need me to get you something?" he asks you instantly, willing.
"No, just take me home, please."
"Of course but Mr. Targaryen knows?"
"Yes," you lie, "You'll have to come back to pick him up."
Finally you convince him and both of you go to the door where you entered instead of the main door since the press is still outside.
And not having the courage or the spirit to say goodbye to anyone, not even Helaena, you finally leave the place.
Meanwhile Aemond continues taking pictures and enduring the flash of the cameras every second, slyly taking Rivers' hands off him, acting unconcerned and willing when inside he wants it all to be over.
When in the middle of all the commotion, he catches a perfect glimpse of your figure walking out of the event through the doors he asked you to enter with Cole by your side, without even looking back, this catching his attention and confusing him instantly.
He is about to apologize to quickly go after you, not liking that at all, feeling a bad feeling, starting to worry, but a hand on his shoulder stops him.
"They want to take pictures of the whole family together."
He turns his head and finds his grandfather, whom he instantly watches attentively and curiously.
He watches all the people around him for a moment as everything is a mess as everyone wants to take pictures and videos, but in the end he leans over to talk to him, trying to create privacy.
"Why did Y/N leave?"
"She leave?" he repeats acting surprised and confused, "I don't know, son. I didn't even notice. Now come on."
"I saw you talking to her," he tells him instantly, insistent.
"We didn't really talk much, now come on, this is important."
He tells him also serious and insistent, making him stand still for the press to start taking pictures of the two of them with Alys Rivers and Larys Strong, then the whole Targaryen family and so on with other businessmen.
But all the time Aemond is not calm, not at all.
Until after a while he sees Cole re-enter the hall, so he quickly makes his way towards him.
"Where is Y/N?" he asks him with bewilderment in his eyes and in his tone of voice, concerned.
Cole frowns.
"Sir, she said she was feeling sick and wanted me to take her home."
"And why didn't you tell me?" he snaps at him instantly, slightly annoyed.
"I'm sorry Sir, but she said you knew."
And at that moment Aemond knows that's definitely not good.
He lets out a long breath and runs a hand over his face, beginning to feel frustrated, only to have his mother walk over to him at that moment and take him with her to have a conversation with the Arryn's, reluctantly having to stay, feeling uneasy every moment as he wants this all to be over so he can come to you.
But the night is far from over.
And it is not until two hours later that people begin to say goodbye to leave, so Aemond takes advantage and also decides to leave, since he sent you severe messages at certain times but you did not respond to any, this stressing him and worrying him more.
So once he is able to leave, he quickly together with Cole start to leave the hall, but Eleonor hurriedly stops him.
"I'm sorry Sir, but aren't you supposed to stay? Here I have the card for the suite you asked me to book," she raises the card in her hand, looking at him confused.
Aemond feels a sharp pain in his chest, not having the slightest idea what happened with you as to decide to leave without telling him anything, but he knows it's no good, besides the fact that his grandfather's attitude seemed suspicious to him.
And he can't help but feel annoyed.
He knows you haven't spent any time together and he thought it would be a good idea to book a suite for the two of you without telling you anything, wanting it to be a surprise, but now it's all ruined and he doesn't even know why.
"No, Y/N is gone," he tells her with frustration visible all over his body and gaze, "You use it or cancel it or whatever, it doesn't matter anymore."
And without further ado he resumes his walk, wanting to get to you as soon as possible.
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You hate the loneliness in which you find yourself.
When you get to the apartment, you want to leave immediately, thinking for a moment that you should have asked Cole to drop you off at Floris or Sarah's house.
You put on your sleeping clothes and take your pillow and a sheet to go back to the living room and get comfortable on the huge couch, wanting to sleep and forget about everything.
In fact that's what you think now, maybe call one of them and ask them to pick you up. But the hour is already late and you don't want to bother them.
So the only thing you do is to take off your make-up and your dress where at all times you still feel the discomfort and humiliation running through your whole body, feeling also a helplessness.
But unfortunately that's not what happens.
What happens is that you can no longer control all the feelings and emotions you felt since Aemond asked you to enter the event through other doors and you finally let it all out, starting to cry silently even though you are alone.
You don't know how long you last like that but you cry until you fall asleep, hugging one of the couch cushions tightly in the darkness of the huge apartment.
Some time later Aemond finally arrives home, so in a hurry he rushes into the apartment with all his anguished and worried look on his face, wanting to see you and talk to you, heading purposefully into the bedroom.
But he definitely didn't expect to find you asleep on the living room couch.
Never before have either of you had the need and desire to sleep apart, not even after having a fight, so surprise comes over him and he watches you sound asleep there… on the couch instead of the bed.
He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what has happened, and doesn't know what to think.
He understands that you were very upset with him for what he asked you to do so that is one reason, also Rivers' colored dress, but what happened next?
He doesn't know and he's very frustrated that he doesn't know, he's also frustrated by the whole situation.
And he can't stand it. He can't stand seeing you lying there asleep, not wanting to sleep with him.
He takes off his jacket without taking his eye off you at all times, leaving it on the back of the single couch and carefully walks over to you, where again his heart breaks at the sight of the dried tears on your cheeks and also the cushion you are hugging wetly.
Immediately he feels guilty, so gently, he kneels beside you and watches you for a few seconds sadly, asleep in a ball, with an expression of exhaustion on your face.
You blink then carve your eyes, getting used to the night light to try to see, when Aemond's cologne hits your nostrils and you look up at him over your face with a confused expression.
He swallows hard and leans over you to hold you in his arms gently and carry you to bed without waking you. He puts one arm under your knees and the other under your back, trying to lift you gently.
But because of the movement and also from feeling his hands on your body, you wake up.
"What are you doing?" you ask him sleepily.
"I'm putting you to bed, love."
You frown and immediately place your whole body hard and tense, removing his hands from your body.
"No, I want to stay here."
He lets out a long breath.
"Come on, let's go to bed."
"No."
"Love, please."
"I already told you no, Aemond."
You tell him in a more serious and completely annoyed tone, as he watches sadly and worriedly as you make your intention clear and again cover yourself with the sheet, turning your back on him with your annoyed expression.
He feels more the anguish of being this way with you, the feelings of frustration and loneliness taking hold of him, feeling helpless in the face of the situation.
He misses you completely, your closeness, mutual support and communication, because this just makes everything even worse, not being able to work things out, you leaving his side, having this physical and emotional distance.
Aemond feels like the person he loves is slipping through his fingers and there is nothing he can do to stop it.
"Y/N please," he insists once again, hating the situation and the feelings it brings, "Let's go to bed, you know I won't be able to fall asleep without you by my side."
"Let me sleep," you tell him seriously and curtly, still turning your back to him.
"Love."
Aemond calls you one last time, feeling the negative emotions invade him even more at that moment, feeling hopeless, but he stops when he sees that you are firm with your decision and he can't do anything about it, feeling more constant the sharp pain in his chest.
And so you ignore him, trying to go back to sleep.
So Aemond has no choice but to heartbrokenly retreat to the bedroom and leave you alone in the living room.
The next morning, the horrible sound of your alarm wakes you up, telling you that you have to get ready for work.
Not having slept enough the night before and remembering everything that happened, you're annoyed and defeated as you lie there for a few minutes staring at the ceiling, not having the energy for anything at all.
But knowing that you can't afford to miss work, you have no choice but to get up.
However, it strikes you that the coffee pot in the kitchen is not on, because even though Aemond has the day off, he still locks himself in his office to get a lot of his work done, and coffee is essential for him to be more productive.
So curious and cautious, you head to the room, seeing that the door is open.
And when you slowly peek your head out, you see Aemond on the edge of the bed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, looking in a tired state and as if he hadn't slept all night.
You press your lips together, as you don't want to talk about what happened, at least not yet. But you know that avoiding it won't be easy.
You know it when Aemond catches a glimpse of your slowly moving figure out of the corner of his eye, so he raises his gaze and his eye looks directly into yours.
You instantly react, avert your gaze from him and head to the closet with a hurried step to grab clean clothes while he watches you attentively and pleadingly at all times, wanting this silence and tension between the two of you to end.
"Y/N—
He couldn't sleep all night and the restlessness so far hasn't left him alone, so he's exhausted and doesn't plan to do any work today because he simply can't.
But he wants to try to fix about last night.
He calls softly to you in a careful tone but you quickly cut him off.
"I'm going to shower."
You say hurriedly but with no encouragement in your voice and quickly walk past him, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind you, leaving him alone with those bad thoughts in his mind, letting out a sigh as he brings his hands to his face, frustrated and tired.
It's not until an hour after you finish getting ready to leave for work that you see Aemond in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water, finding it strange that he's not locked in his office, but you don't ask him anything about it.
And when you finish making sure you bring all your stuff in your bag, like your phone, keys and wallet, Aemond watches you cautiously throughout, still feeling that weight on his shoulders and that ache in his chest for not being on good terms with you.
"I can drive you."
He tells you suddenly, softly and in a calm voice, this catching your attention but you don't even notice him, instantly hurrying to get out of the apartment soon.
"It's okay. I don't want to slow you down at work."
"I'm not going to work today," he lets you know, this surprising you, but you hide it and don't react.
But you still reject him.
"There's no need. Don't worry."
And so you head for the door, walking out of the apartment, leaving him behind.
This of course hurts Aemond, as you've never turned him down on this sort of thing before, feeling really bad.
Still he later texts you asking if you need him to pick you up, but again you turn him down telling him that Sophie, your co-worker, will do you the favor, when in fact you take the bus.
And once you get home, there is still this tension and silence between the two of you, which feels horrible, but above all it feels more horrible to Aemond, who even though he tries to talk to you about it, you don't let him, cutting him off instantly, excusing yourself with other things.
That night you sleep in bed together with him, relieving him that he didn't want to go another full night without sleep, but you both sleep completely apart, not touching each other.
That's unusual, he's just never been through anything like that before and of course he hugs you and tries to talk to you in the comfort of your bed, but you don't respond to his touch.
You let him hug you but you don't hug him back, turning your back on him, making it clear that you don't want to be that way with him. So he can only let out a sigh and pull away, respecting your decision and your space even though it hurts.
But he can't take this anymore.
The next day at work he goes looking for his grandfather, serious and willing, entering his office without knocking and closing the door without much tact, watching him with annoyance all over his face.
Otto Hightower looks up from some papers on his desk and embodies an eyebrow at him, expectant and slightly confused.
"Can I help you?"
"What did you say to Y/N?
He inquires her instantly, getting straight to the point, serious and annoyed. But of course, Otto Hightower feigns an innocent expression on his face.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't lie to me," he warns, "I know you talked to her and I want to know what you told her."
"Aemond," he lets out a sigh, "If you're having problems with your girlfriend, you don't want to try to get me in on your fights—
"It's no coincidence that she left that fucking event right after I saw her talking to you, so tell me what it was you said to her," he demands again, more serious than before.
Otto shakes his head, even with the innocent expression lingering.
"I told you we didn't even talk much. We just talked about your future, the things you're accomplishing and in the end I told her to enjoy the rest of the night, that's all. So maybe you should be more concerned about why your dear girlfriend walks out of a very important event for you leaving you alone, like she doesn't care."
Aemond can't help the frustration and anger that begins to grow inside him.
"I know you're lying."
"You're misunderstanding things."
"She's not talking to me! She's upset and I don't even know why, she doesn't want to tell me!" he exclaims angrily, completely losing his patience.
And his grandfather just watches him silently with a serious look, not saying anything else to him and this causing more frustration and annoyance to Aemond who quickly walks towards him, placing his hands on his desk and leaning towards him with a threatening face.
"I don't know what happened but I know you said things to her," he makes it clear, his tone serious, "You made me hurt her to not only ruin the night for me, but for her as well—
"Aemond—
"Or what?" he interrupts him as well, not letting him speak, "You think I don't know all the effort you're putting into trying to further increase the rumors between Rivers and I with the press? In how you're interfering between me and her by getting Rivers in the way? And all because you don't want to lose a fucking association with a company at the cost of ruining my relationship?"
Otto Hightower slowly rises from his chair, watching him just as seriously and menacingly.
"An association that believe me you don't want to lose either, Aemond."
He makes it clear to him slowly, with an obvious and equally menacing look, leaving Aemond silent for a moment.
"We could never partner with Dorne, so partnering with Riverlands is all we have left, because after all, before long you'll be the new boss or am I wrong?"
"If you lose it… it could cost us millions," he reminds him slowly and clearly, "And you risk not only your own future as an businessman, but the future of all of us, your family, the partnerships with the other companies, the employees and the legacy we've built. And obviously I can't allow that to fall apart."
He inquires and Aemond swallows hard, feeling a knot in his stomach, knowing full well that his father's health is getting worse every day.
And everyone knows, his mother, his brothers, uncles, aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, everyone… that it's only a matter of time.
"But there are other ways, there are—
Aemond shrugs and clenches his hands tightly into fists as Otto watches him harshly, the room feeling charged with tension.
"We will go bankrupt, Aemond! What don't you understand!?"
Explodes Otto furiously.
""Your father left a lot of work pending since he got sick and now you are his successor, which you are lucky that I am breaking my back for you to help you, to save from now on your reputation and the company that will be under your command when the time comes. And that you don't want to help me in the same way for not learning to separate personal relationships from your work, is not my problem."
"We will go into crisis if we don't get Riverlands, we will lose income, we will have a lot of debt, our companies in Oldtown, Lannisport, Stom's End, in the Vale and in Winterfell we will lose them. And Riverlands has partnerships in Essos as well as Dorne, so understand what's at stake," he continues in a harsh tone, "Do you want Helaena to lose Highgarden and Winterfell or your mother to stop running the company in Oldtown? Do you really want to lose everything we've built? Is that what you want to happen, Aemond?"
Aemond's heart begins to pound, he lowers his gaze and with his jaw clenched he thinks about it, he feels anxiety and deep bewilderment. He thinks of his sister, his mother, his brothers, his whole family, everything they have built.
Otto's words echo in his head in a constant echo and suddenly… he feels trapped, cornered in his own life, helpless.
At that moment he craves a respite, that need for peace, he needs you by his side, the woman he loves and the one who can give him that comfort zone.
But you are not there, everything suddenly feels lost and he also feels that everything is wrong, and he is instantly overcome with frustration, sadness, anger and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability.
Aemond really clings to his own determination, determined not to give in to his grandfather's threats, but he knows he's right about everything about the company and his family. And he really feels trapped, because he doesn't know what to do about Alys Rivers and her company.
So he can only place a bitter smile and shake his head, his mind a mess.
"You're unbelievable, you know that?"
He tells her as he begins to walk away from him, starting to pace around the room slowly as he runs a hand over his face, placing it on his chin.
"You leave all this burden to me, because you want to take advantage of me just like what you did with Aegon and Cassandra."
Otto rolls his eyes, watching him just as annoyed and bored as before.
"If you don't want to learn how to work this kind of thing out's, I don't understand why you're going to be the next boss."
"No, of course I can work this kind of thing out," he makes it clear, serious, watching him annoyed, "Just not in this dirty way."
"Alys Rivers is a very demanding, perfectionist and exacting person, just like her uncle. So if she wants to try to maintain an intimate relationship with you, you're going to let her, for the good of the company. Or at least pretend, pretend you're interested in her too so you can sign that fucking paper once and for all."
Aemond looks at him completely disgusted, badly and with a scowl on his face, watching him as if he doesn't know him.
"You are… completely disgusting."
"I'm teaching you how to survive in all of this and also how to keep the company afloat," he makes it clear to him, his other way of looking at things.
"You only think about yourself, money and reputation. You don't care about my feelings, my relationship and that I'm hurting Y/N."
"No, I don't care, because the company is not going to sustain itself otherwise," he tells him simply, nonchalantly, "And if your girlfriend can't understand this, your job, your future and that we can't fail, then I don't understand why you're still with her. You have to make sacrifices in order to live, and that's something you better start understanding now."
Yes… Aemond knows he will have to make sacrifices. It's the first thing his father told him since it was ruled that he would be the Heir.
But Aemond told himself from the beginning that if those sacrifices were his family or his relationship with you, he will go to great lengths to keep his family out of it and you too, because he is not willing to lose you.
He wants to be worthy of you, treat you like you deserve, give you the world and keep you by his side, because the last thing he wants because of his desperate grandfather and a reckless woman is for the relationship to no longer work.
He knows it won't be easy, but he will do the impossible.
Although… the breaking point is near.
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general taglist:
@melsunshine @n4forlife @iamavailablesstuff @ttkttt @elliaze @trshngyn @tsujifreya @imsoshygirl @watercolorskyy @kckt88 @zenka69 @yentroucnagol @crispmarshmallow @bellastwd @queenofshinigamis @strangersunghoon @happinessinthebeing
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mama2bears · 3 months ago
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No Christmas Vacation - Part 1
Pairings: Tyler Owens/Reader
Summary: You and Tyler are dating. He takes you for a romantic get away for Christmas, but will the weather interfere with your plans?
Warnings: None yet.
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“Good morning, beautiful.” Tyler kisses your neck softly.
“Do we have to get up now?” you muttered rolling over to face him.
“Yeah, remember, today is the day that I am taking you on our Christmas vacation.”
With that, you smiled, sitting up in bed. Tyler had told you a few weeks ago that he wanted to take you away for Christmas. Ever since then, you had tried to get him to tell you where, but he wouldn't budge. He only told you to pack for cold. It didn't matter where you went, you were looking forward to the trip. You were looking forward to getting away for a few days.
“I made you breakfast in bed before we get started.” he said, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you a tray with pancakes, sausage, and coffee.
“That smells amazing, Ty.” You award him with a tender kiss. You met Tyler three years ago when you moved to Arkansas to follow a career in meteorology and storm chasing. Your first thought was that Tyler Owens was a cocky, reckless redneck who only wanted to be a YouTube star. It didn't take you long though to see the tender side of this cowboy tornado wrangler. He was the guy running into debris to find dogs, playing ball with a child in mist of total destruction. Tyler was both tough and tender.
“So, are you going to tell me where we are going yet?”
“Nope.” he grinned.
“How will I know if we have everything packed we need? What if it's warm? Is it going to snow? We aren't going to be chasing tornadoes, are we?” you groaned. It was two days before Christmas and while it wasn't exactly common to have tornadoes in the winter, it certainly wasn't impossible. You loved storm chasing as much as Tyler did, but not on Christmas.
“Well, we didn't pack for every season, but I think cold weather clothes will be all we need. I don't plan on any tornadoes either.”
“Well, at least you can tell me if we are driving or flying.” you said between bites of your pancake.
“Flying.” Tyler answered “...in a plane.” he added.
“No? Really? And here I thought you were superman.” you grinned.
“Maybe I am.” he winked at you.
After breakfast was over, Tyler took your tray, “I'll get our suitcases in the truck and load the dishwasher.” he offered, giving you time to take a shower and get dressed.
* * * * *
“You know, I am going to kinda miss our Christmas tree and decorations.” you say, making one more check on the door to make sure it locked and alarm set before walking to the truck. Tyler opens the door for you, “Does the hotel have a Christmas tree?” you ask getting in.
“Something like that.” he grinned.
It only took you about half an hour to get to the airport, but with the holiday crowd all traveling it took hours to get though security. Finally you make it though the airport check point and are loading the plane. Tyler still hasn't told you where you were going, but you knew you would find out soon enough.
“Welcome aboard.” a flight attendant was saying. You listened to the normal safety measures to take and then finally, “We'll be arriving in Oneida Wisconsin in about two hours. We expect fair weather.”
“Oneida Wisconsin?” you question. “What's there?”
“Well...” Tyler said sitting back in his seat, “Oneida is just the closest airport to fly into. I'll have a rental car waiting for us and then we're driving up to White Lake. We have a little secluded cabin on the lake for the next week.”
“Ty..that sounds amazing!” you squeeze his hand a little tighter as the plane takes off.
“Still nervous about flying?” he asked.
“30,000 feet is a long way to fall if something goes wrong.” you mutter.
A few hours later the plane landed safely and Tyler had collected the suitcases from the luggage claim area and was now loading it in the rental car, which wasn't a car, but a Dodge Ram truck. He always had to have a Dodge, even on vacation.
You were flipping though the radio station when you stopped on a weather report, “and we are expecting a White Christmas this year. White Lake is expected to get up to five inches of snow.”
“Did you know about this?” you asked.
Right now the day was sunny and warm...well, at least 75 and humid was warm for Wisconsin in middle of December.
“Not until yesterday, I didn't. They just started calling for snow.” he smiled, “But the cabin is going to be stock with everything we need. It even has a hot tub and fireplace.”Do you wanna build a snow man? Come on let's go and play...” Tyler started singing, making you laugh.
“This is going to be the perfect weekend.” you smile, staring out the window as the houses gave way to tall forest.
“Yes...yes it is.” Tyler smile, patting the small box that was in his jacket pocket.
“We're here.” he said turning down a small dirt road which ran for a few miles though the woods. Finally, a small wooden cabin perched on a lake came into view. A dock went out from the front yard and a small boat was tied to the dock.
As Tyler parked, you could see the cabin's porch had garland and Christmas lights wrapped around it, there was also Christmas lights running down the dock and a wreath was hung on the door and every window.
Tyler carried the bags to the cabin and entered the code that was given to him for the lock, opening the door.
“It's beautiful Ty,” you pull him into a hug. It was a one story one bedroom cabin. The living room had a brown leather sofa facing a fire place with a big screen TV hung above it. In the corner was a tall tree all decorated, completed with a star on top. The fresh smell of pine filled the room.
“Merry Christmas Darling,” Tyler kissed you softly, then picked up the bags, heading towards the bedroom, then stops in the door way, “Hey, Darling...come here.” he smiles, dropping the bags on the floor and pulls you into a long, slow, deep kiss.
“What did I do to deserve that?” you asked, eyes dancing with excitement.
He kisses you again and points up, to the mistletoe hang above the doorway. “Rules are rules...gotta kiss every time we pass though the door.”
“So, cowboy, what do you have planned for us first?” you grin.
“Well..since today is so warm, I thought maybe we could take the boat out?” he offered and paused, looking towards the bed, “unless you had something else in mind.”
“Oh..tempting, very tempting.” you kissed him, and lead him back towards the living room, “However, I think I'll choose take the boat out, but when we come back.” she winked, “Well, let's just see what happens.”
Tyler went into the kitchen to find that the cabin owner had stalked it well, as agreed, including a chilled bottle of wine. He fixed some sandwiches and grabbed the wine and a couple of glasses, checking his pocket again to make sure the little box was still there. He put the food and wine in a wicker basket, grabbed a blanket off of the sofa, “Ready” he asked, almost unable to contain his excitement.
You laugh at him, following him out the door, “What is so exciting about a boat ride?” you ask. The way he was acting you would have thought that he was chasing a F5 tornado.
“Come on, you'll see!” he was practically skipping down the dock and you couldn't help but laugh. One thing about Tyler Owens was that he had a way of making your heart soar. When you were with him, you were carefree. He had a way of showing you joy in every moment.
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730architect · 6 days ago
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picture your face - L4B (1.1)
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first real tumblr post um hi?? anyways i posted this fic on ao3 last month and it did pretty well so i decided to post it on here as well! so hi if you know me from there or from twt :)
part 2
── •✧• ──
wc: 2.4k
tags: liv4brutality, masturbation, hatred, conflicted feelings, liv lowkey hates dominik (yay), callbacks to l4b (2022), liv is still hopelessly in love with rhea but we knew this, light heterosexual couple jumpscares sorry....
── •✧• ──
I had to go into the other room, she sent me something and I can’t think about anything else…
Liv walked confidently to the back after successfully winning a dark match on tonight’s SmackDown, a match she had won with ease. Ease, which really meant continuous interference from her boyfriend, Dominik Mysterio. She cradled her precious championship in her arms as she pointed and laughed in the faces of the fans booing her on her way out. She was on top of the world and there was no woman on the entire roster, on the entire planet for that matter, who could knock her off of her pedestal.
Each victory was sweeter than the last, further cementing her as the greatest women’s world champion of all time, as she so eloquently called herself. She and Dominik were all smiles as they walked through the curtain arm in arm celebrating the champion’s win. However Liv’s smile faded quickly the second they made it back to gorilla, dropping her hand from his.
“You okay, mi güerita?” Dominik asks, immediately noticing her instant lack of affection which had caught him off guard.
“Fine, just a little tired.” Liv replies with a strained smile, attempting to save face. Dominik returned her smile with a bright one of his own, oblivious to her strange behavior.
The truth was, dating Dominik wasn’t all she had imagined it would be. Sure, in the beginning it was sort of fun. But that was due to the fact that Liv had finally gotten the ultimate revenge on the woman who had ruined her life while the whole world watched. She did exactly what she vowed she would do: take everything from Rhea Ripley until she was left with nothing but her shitty shoulder and her own misery.
Unfortunately for Liv, it was obvious that Dominik liked her far more than she liked him; which she took full responsibility for. Her conversations with Finn always seemed to be over the same matter: her true intentions with Dominik. She was not at all prepared for how needy and affectionate Dom would be, both in private and in public. He constantly needed her attention for even the littlest things.
“Hey Liv, should I wear my white or purple boots for my match later?”
“Liv, do you think I look jacked in this picture?”
His constant neediness was enough to drive any woman insane, Liv was amazed that Rhea was able to stay with him for so long. She couldn’t help but discreetly roll her eyes whenever he called her name before putting on a sickeningly sweet smile paired with a skip in her step as she made her way to him. Why did she feel this way?
She and Dominik are back in their shared hotel room after the show. She finds herself trapped in his arms yet again in bed as he mindlessly scrolls through the TV channels. Liv gets up from the bed, tossing Dominik’s tattooed arm off of her and ignoring his audible confusion, mumbling something along the lines of, “I’m going to the bathroom.”
Picture your face, I wanna touch you but you’re too far away…
Liv locks herself in the bathroom and surveys her surroundings, mind still racing. Her eyes land on the large bathtub and decides a bath would help clear her head. She empties the pockets of her shorts and runs the bath water to her desired temperature while she pours soap into the tub, allowing it to form bubbles as she undresses. She tosses her clothes into a pile in the corner of the bathroom and ties her blonde hair up into a lazy bun at the top of her head, then climbing into the warm and welcoming water as bubbles swirled around her. Liv allows herself to sink down, down, down into the tub until only her head breaks the surface of the foamy water.
She tries to dilute her stress but Rhea continues to ravage her thoughts relentlessly, refusing to provide her with even a second of relief. Liv finds her mind drifting back to 2022, when she and Rhea were tag team partners and the best of friends. How Rhea treated her like the only girl in the world, how she picked her up with ease in ways that Dominik could only dream of. Liv feels a pang in her heart as she relives each sweet memory she and Rhea shared together on their quest for tag team gold. Her wet fingers rise and ghost over her lips where she swears she can still taste the sweetness of Rhea’s cheek that she would kiss after every win or loss. No matter what, they had each other. Until they didn’t.
And maybe Liv was naive for thinking that they would last forever, but how could she not when Rhea treated her like the only girl she would ever have eyes for for as long as she lived? Sometimes she thinks about what their lives would be like if Rhea had never turned her back on her. Would they still be tag team partners or would they have split on good terms? Would they be champions together like they once dreamed? The constant state of wonder she repeatedly finds herself in leaves her head pounding. They once looked at each other with such tenderness but now every glance is filled with pure malice.
Know I shouldn't need it but I want affection, know I shouldn't want it but I need attention
She hears a familiar snore come from the other room and immediately recognizes it as Dominik, which only seems to piss her off even more. Liv’s mind shifts once again, thinking about how her stomach would jolt whenever her eyes met Rhea’s as she stared her down, blue eyes morphing into angry slits every time Rhea saw her. Liv would try and put on a hardened expression of her own but to no avail. She just couldn’t ignore the heat that pooled in the pit of her stomach every time Rhea was near. Her breath on the back of Liv’s neck every time she pinned her down to the mat, seething over how much she fucking hated her. And by god did it turn her on.
Her nimble fingers begin to trail down her still-immersed body, fantasizing about how roughly Rhea would grab her, practically throwing her around like a rag doll if she really wanted to. How her sharp canines would flash through her snarl every time she had Liv backed into a corner. She found herself dismissing the wet spots in her underwear after every interaction with her or even after just stumbling across a post of hers on social media.
Liv grabs her phone from the side of the tub and opens Instagram, switching between accounts. Her wet fingers slowly find the search bar and tap on the last and only searched profile: Rhea’s. Liv couldn’t risk making a wrong move and tapping something she wasn’t meant to on accident, which would end up being the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to her. She looks through Rhea’s profile for a couple seconds, nearly missing her latest post.
It was a mirror picture taken at the gym, nothing Rhea hasn’t posted about a million times before. But this one nearly had Liv’s world crumbling around her. It wasn’t the photo that mattered, despite how good she looked in it. Muscles bulging and glistening with a light sheen of sweat after what Liv assumed to be an intense arm-day workout. Black tattoo ink decorated her skin, wrapping themselves around her arms and fingers as she held her phone in one hand and flexed the other. But it was the caption that truly caught Liv’s attention.
“rhearipley_wwe watch me 👁️‍🗨️”
Liv sat up straight in the bathtub, nearly spilling water onto the bathroom floor with the speed she moved at. She waits for the anger to hit her but it never does. Instead it’s that same familiar throb in her core which she’s sure is coated in slick and not because of the water she’s sitting in. She stops for a moment to listen to her surroundings, relieved when she still hears Dom’s obnoxious snores through the locked door. She sinks back down into the tub, still staring at the photo, eyes drooping slightly with lust. Her fingers trace incoherent shapes onto the soft skin of her thighs as she separates them, exposing her cunt to her digits. She glides her index finger over her opening, almost slipping it inside due to how wet she is. Rhea may be obsessed but Liv was nothing short of infatuated by her.
Now I'm picturing you and you're touching yourself…
Her fingers slowly begin to circle her clit, spreading her slick over the puffy pearl. Liv sighs softly to herself, eyes fluttering shut for a split second before opening again to marvel at the photo. The caption itself almost seems like a teasing invitation in its own right, enticing Liv to slip a finger inside of herself, quickly replacing one with two and imagining it was Rhea’s inked ones instead. Water sloshed around due to her movements as her back arched slightly off the back of the tub she leaned on. “Shit… Rhea…” she whispers to herself through parted lips, Rhea’s name slipping past them like a prayer. Like she’s repenting, begging some sort of divine power for forgiveness for what she’s done as she does it.
Liv never slows the relentless piston of her fingers, going in and out of her weeping hole. The heel of her palm hits her clit with every thrust at the perfect angle, making her brain short circuit with every motion.
A memory from years ago plays in her mind like a technicolor movie. Liv had made her way to the locker room, calling out Rhea’s name as she glanced left and right for her then partner until she saw her standing at the end of the locker room, back facing her.
“Hey Rhea, I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food before we head back to the hotel or something.” Liv chirped as she walked up to her partner, blissfully unaware that she was stripping herself of her ring gear. Rhea turns around to face Liv, her hands reaching behind her back to unclasp her bralette that made up the top half of her gear.
“Sounds good to me, love. What are you in the mood for?” Rhea asks with a toothy smile, thick accent slicing through the air.
She turns around once again and lets out a relieved sigh when she finally unfastens her top, allowing it to fall off of her and completely expose the top half of her body. Liv’s mouth drops open before she quickly regains her composure, trying her hardest not to gawk at her tag partner’s physique, now having half of it fully exposed to her.
Rhea had less tattoos back then, her body a little leaner as she's put on more muscle since. But regardless of how she looked, Liv always found herself pressing her thighs together whenever she saw her, searching desperately for even the smallest bit of friction to provide herself with some semblance of relief before she could tend to it herself. Rhea turns to the side as she throws on a t-shirt, allowing Liv to catch a glimpse of her plush tits and the piercings that adorned them; along with the massive gargoyle tattoo that sat right underneath. She didn’t feel worthy of seeing her like this, all exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t feel worthy of seeing her at all.
The fingers wrapped around her phone still displaying Rhea’s photo had begun to tremble due to the sensation, liking the photo accidentally in the process. Liv however paid no mind, how could she with how her heart hammered in her chest, blood pounding in her ears, drowning out the sounds of her breathy moans and pathetic whimpers as she imagined Rhea’s expression seeing her like this behind her rolled back eyes. Liv eventually drops her phone back down and paws at her breasts, rolling her nipples between her index finger and thumb as she continues the assault on her pussy with her other hand.
She feels pressure increase just below her pelvis, making the entire lower half of her body feel like it’s about to implode. She slows the speed of her fingers ever so slightly to be able to grind her hips down onto them, allowing them to hit even deeper inside of her which makes her head spin. She feels the pressure increase more and more until she pinches at her nipple right as her fingers curl up slightly inside her, hitting that spot that makes her see stars every time. Liv throws her head back and detonates like a bomb around her digits, Rhea’s face the only thing she could see behind her tightly closed eyelids.
“Rhea… oh my sweet girl, oh my god…” she wept to herself, only then realizing that a few tears had rolled down her face. She slowly pulls her fingers out of her cunt, whining at the sensitivity and emptiness she felt. Liv laps her fingers clean, moaning around them as she envisions they’re Rhea’s she’s sucking off rather than her own.
She lays back and takes some much needed deep breaths with her eyes closed, feeling her heart rate return to a normal speed. She opens her eyes to the sound of her phone going off, notifying her that she’s received a text message. Liv picks her phone up to check who it is only to almost drop it into the water when she does.
It’s an unsaved number she hasn’t texted in years, but the lack of caller ID doesn’t serve any purpose considering it’s the only phone number besides hers that she knows by heart. With shaking fingers, she taps on the notification, opening the messages app. The text contains a single screenshot of someone’s instagram notifications. She taps on it and reads “yaonlylivvonce and 82,385 others liked your photo”.
You’re fucking kidding.
The photo in question is the post of Rhea that Liv had just spent the last half hour jerking it to. She’s stuck, frozen in shock as the now lukewarm water stills around her. She’s snapped out of her trance with another text notification, this time it’s a short sentence.
“I guess you really were watching me”
Shit.
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mydearestbeloved · 2 days ago
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Chapter 16 [Draft]
Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader
CW:
Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”
[Masterlist🦋✨️]
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You needed to rein in your anger for now. Jinwoo needed to defeat Baran as quickly as possible to obtain the ingredients necessary to cure his mother. Even though he might not yet know whether it would work, you did. The future you knew was enough to justify setting aside… whatever this was for the time being.
It was clear that Jinwoo wanted your support; otherwise, he would have already gone to the Demon Castle. You should have convinced him to go solo. According to the story, he’d be fine. Your interference might bring troublesome consequences, yet you wanted to help him—perhaps selfishly this time.
You still blamed yourself for what happened to his mother. You knew her eternal slumber was meant to drive Jinwoo to grow stronger. But you had the power to prevent it, to cure her, and yet—
At one point, you unconsciously began to feel that helping him was a way of making amends—for your helplessness, for things out of your control. Not just his mother [Why do you blame yourself?] but also for not arriving sooner from the garden. For being too late to save his father, even if the system might have stopped you anyway. You could have tried. Yet you were too late [it’s not your fault]. Too late to save his father. Too late to help the people devastated by Kamish.
[It was out of your control.]
---
The garden was as serene as ever, a tranquil oasis filled with blooming flowers and butterflies flitting through the air. The soft hum of nature provided a soothing backdrop, yet the tension inside you was anything but calm. You sat at your usual spot by the gazebo, sipping tea from a delicate cup, waiting for him to arrive via the invitation you’d sent with your butterflies.
When Jinwoo stepped into your domain, the portal sealed behind him.
Was it just you, or did he look more haggard than usual? Was it because of your… disagreement? He shouldn’t care that much about you. You needed to be sure of that. Otherwise… you didn’t know what would happen to this story.
"(Name), I'm sorry—" Jinwoo began, his voice tentative, but you cut him off with a raised hand.
"Sit," you said simply, taking another sip of tea. Your tone was measured, calm, but there was no room for argument.
To his credit—or perhaps his detriment—Jinwoo sat immediately, like an obedient dog, responding to its master’s command.
You laughed, and he flinched, thinking he’d done something wrong again. But you laughed because of the irony. Here sat the soon-to-be strongest man in the world, obeying you like a lost puppy. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, feel exhilarated, uneasy, or all of the above.
It was both endearing and unsettling.
You needed to address this situation—quickly.
But for now, Jinwoo needed to focus.
"Let’s set that aside for now," you said, waving off his attempt at an apology. You noticed him opening his mouth again, perhaps to protest, but one sharp look from you silenced him effectively. Lovely.
At least he listens when it matters.
"You need to return to the Demon Castle to gather the final material for crafting the Holy Water of Life, correct?"
"Y-yeah," Jinwoo stammered, caught off guard by your directness.
"Then why are you still here?" Your voice held a firm edge. Why hadn’t he already gone? He didn’t need you for this, not really.
"I—" Jinwoo faltered, the words dying in his throat. He was going to ask you to accompany him, but why? Why didn’t he use this time to leave, to step away from your anger? He couldn’t admit it, not even to himself, but leaving without resolving things with you felt… wrong.
Running away from this felt wrong.
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. The tea in your cup swirled as you tilted it slightly, your thoughts as restless as the liquid. "I’ll help you," you said at last, the words measured but sincere. "Though I’m not sure how much help I’ll actually be. Just give me time to prepare.”
He clearly hadn’t expected that. “You don’t have to—”
"I don’t," you interjected, cutting him off once more. Your gaze softened as you set the teacup down and folded your hands on the table. "But I want to. Let’s just leave it at that."
Oh.
Jinwoo felt an odd sense of déjà vu. It reminded him of the past, back when he was weakest. When he didn’t know anything about his mysterious benefactor. When he didn’t know you.
Thank you. He wanted to say it, but it didn’t feel like enough. It never did.
You took his silence as agreement, your lips curving into a faint smile despite yourself.
---
The silence stretched on, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Jinwoo fidgeted slightly.
“I—” Jinwoo hesitated. Should he bring up that dinner? No. It wasn’t the right time, not when you were setting your fight aside for his sake.
“Hm?” you prompted.
“…Can you train Tusk?” Jinwoo blurted out, summoning the High Orc Shaman before he could stop himself. The towering figure of Tusk knelt immediately, his glowing eyes filled with both reverence and curiosity as he regarded you, and… confused by his nervous master.
You arched a brow, eyeing the orc, setting down your teacup with a soft clink.
Jinwoo scratched the back of his neck. “He’s good at casting spells—” He winced at his poor wording. “I… I thought he could learn a thing or two from you—”
You moved, and Jinwoo stiffened. Standing from your seat, you approached the kneeling Tusk, your footsteps soft against the gazebo’s stone floor. Tusk, to his credit, remained perfectly still, though his glowing eyes followed your every move.
Reaching out, you placed a hand gently atop his head, patting him lightly.
The orc blinked. Jinwoo blinked.
"Alright," you said simply.
You smiled—a genuine smile that Jinwoo hadn’t seen in days.
It was meant for Tusk, sure, but his shadows were an extension of himself. And Jinwoo… Jinwoo clung to that small glimmer of hope.
---
“Enchanting equipment?” you asked, your voice cool and composed.
“Yes.” Jinwoo nodded, carefully pulling two items from his inventory. “A few days ago, I bought some gear in preparation to return to the Demon Castle.” He handed you the wind-attribute robe and the nameless ring imbued with a water-attribute.
You regarded the items with a practiced eye, fingers grazing the surface of the robe before both pieces floated midair, enveloped in your signature silver aura. Jinwoo watched as your shoulders relaxed, your eyes fluttering closed.
His gaze remained fixed as your butterflies began to swirl, seamlessly merging with your aura as they danced around the equipment. Your hair swayed gently with the magical currents, and for a moment, Jinwoo was captivated.
The light flared momentarily before dispersing, the butterflies scattering back into the garden. The robe and ring floated down gently into your open hand. Without a word, you handed them back to Jinwoo.
Out of curiosity, he activated the system to inspect their stats, and his eyes widened in shock. The equipment’s overall defense had tripled. Not doubled—tripled!
The robe’s magic resistance and affinity were leagues beyond its original state, and the ring now pulsed with latent power, its water attribute refined into something far more potent. Even the overall quality of the items had improved dramatically.
“You’re… you’re really amazing,” Jinwoo said, awe dripping from his tone as he examined the equipment.
You hummed in acknowledgment, though your focus had already shifted to your butterflies, idly letting them land on your fingers and shoulders.
You still weren’t looking at him.
Oh right. Jinwoo’s expression faltered as the realization hit. You were still giving him the silent treatment.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Jinwoo’s reaction—his head tilted down, his shoulders slightly slumped, his lips pressed into a tight line. He looked like a dejected puppy, an image made even more comical by his flickering gaze, which kept darting to you as if waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.
Your butterflies noticed, fluttering inquisitively toward Jinwoo before retreating back to you. Jinwoo’s shadows, peeking through the faint dark mist at his feet, mimicked the butterflies with exaggerated shrugs, clearly as lost as he was about what to do.
You didn’t react.
---
Yeesh.
Jinho shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, glancing between the two of you as the car sped down the road. The silence inside was suffocating—not quite as unbearable as the last time he’d seen the two of you together, but still tense enough to make him itch for some form of normalcy.
His Unnie sat by the window, her head resting lightly against the glass, staring at the passing scenery. She hadn’t said a word since they left. His Hyung, seated in the opposite side of the passenger seat from her, occasionally flicked his gaze toward her, his brow furrowing ever so slightly before his focus returned to the road.
The tension was palpable.
Jinwoo cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Were you able to sleep well?” he asked, addressing Jinho.
“Yes, Hyung-nim. Unnie is really a great host!” Jinho replied, his tone overly chipper as he tried to ease the atmosphere.
For the briefest of moments, he caught the smallest of smiles gracing your lips. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there. Before he could even process it, your expression returned to its usual steady, composed look.
The silence resumed.
This time, it was Jinho who cleared his throat awkwardly. “By the way, what business do you two have at the World Tower this early?”
“We’ll be going,” Jinwoo answered curtly.
Your gaze flickered to Jinho, and you added, “Take care of my shop in my absence, okay, Jinho?”
“Wait, what—?” Before Jinho could even finish his sentence, both of you were gone.
Jinho blinked, staring at the now-empty car. “Huh?” he muttered to himself, still processing the abrupt departure.
He sighed, leaning back in the seat. “Well… at least the tension’s gone now…”
---
“As we practiced, Tusk!” Your voice carried across the battlefield, clear and commanding.
Jinwoo stood at a safe distance, watching as the shadow of the high orc shaman obeyed your order, prepared to unleash a spell. Tusk raised the Orb of Avarice high, the artifact shimmering as it expanded to match his increased size.
“Fire!”
The command was punctuated by a deafening explosion of power. The beam tore through the battlefield, obliterating every demon in its path, only leaving a charred crater. The heat from the explosion rippled outward, stirring dust and debris, carrying with it the echoes of decimation.
Jinwoo whistled in appreciation, folding his arms as he observed the carnage. Behind him, his shadows shifted, and your butterflies fluttered in synchronized patterns, as if admiring the display.
Meanwhile, you floated upward, your butterflies swirling protectively around you. Once you reached Tusk’s massive head, you landed lightly, patting the shaman’s forehead.
“Well done!” you praised, your voice warm. A neon blue butterfly followed your gesture, landing on Tusk’s—well, tusk.
The shadow rumbled in satisfaction, his massive shoulders relaxing as he basked in the praise. Jinwoo couldn’t help but chuckle
Yeah, he thought, a small smirk tugging at his lips, leaving Tusk’s training to her was definitely the right call.
---
“Say, can your butterflies level up?” Jinwoo began as his dagger sliced cleanly through a demon, sending the dark creature crumpling to the ground. “Like my shadows?”
You were a short distance away, directing a volley of butterflies toward a cluster of demons. The faint hum of system constant notifications rang in Jinwoo’s mind as both your forces and his defeated demons across the floor in the coordinated teams.
“Yes, they can,” you replied, casting a spell that sent silvery light streaking toward Jinwoo. His health bar filled rapidly, minor scratches on his arms close up. A boost in mana regeneration and overall speed left him feeling reinvigorated as he flexed his fingers.
“They gain power differently, though,” you continued, spinning your scepter once to clear some demons encroaching on your position. “Instead of receiving direct experience points from defeating enemies, they grow stronger by feeding on lifeforce. It’s a continuous process, and it takes significantly more time.”
Jinwoo hummed, parrying a claw strike from a nearby demon. He glanced back at you as you effortlessly destroyed another group with a volley of silver projectiles.
You nodded. “They also have ranks similar to your shadows, but the system referred to them as stages of metamorphosis. Egg, Larva, Pupa, and Adult. Their forms change at each stage. Sometimes they grow larger, sometimes their colors or wing patterns shift, and so on. The last time I maxed them out, though, the ‘Adult’ stage was locked, so my strongest children remained in the ‘Pupa’ stage.”
Jinwoo tilted his head slightly, avoiding a beam of light that zipped past where his head had been moments before. The shot hit its mark, incinerating a line of demons behind him. He didn’t bother turning to check the scorched corpses. His focus stayed on you.
Your scepter glimmered in your hand, its tip still smoking faintly from the spell. You ran a hand down its length, your expression calm and calculated as more demons circled you and him.
“To ascend to the next stage, each butterfly requires specific ascension materials. The materials differ depending on the field I want them to excel in—whether it’s devouring, illusions, healing, or something else entirely,” you continued. Your voice was steady, even as you broke into a sprint straight toward him.
Jinwoo remained perfectly composed, lowering one hand, bracing himself. Without hesitation, you plant your foot in his palm, and he used his strength to propel you into the air. The dagger held in his other hand slashed cleanly through the demon hot on your heels.
Midair, you spun gracefully, casting multiple magic circles that hovered around you like constellations. Beams of concentrated light erupted from them, carving through the horde of demons surrounding Jinwoo with pinpoint accuracy. The spells struck true, decimating the creatures while leaving Jinwoo untouched in the center.
You landed gracefully, the silver aura around you dispersing as your butterflies fluttered back to various parts of the battlefield, supporting Jinwoo’s soldiers.
“It was something I gave the system feedback about. It’s why your shadows only need your permission to rank up.” You brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.
“A single Larva-stage butterfly is more than equal to an entire kaleidoscope of its siblings still in the Egg stage. And that comparison holds for the higher stages as well.”
Jinwoo’s eyes followed the graceful movements of your butterflies, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So… when do you get to name them?” he asked casually, flicking the blood from his blade.
You turned to him sharply, your expression almost scandalized. “My children are living, sentient beings, Jinwoo. I name them as I see fit.”
Jinwoo smirked. “You’re telling me you memorize all their names? From the look of it, you’ve got hundreds—no, thousands of them.” He chuckled, expecting you to roll your eyes or laugh.
Instead, you looked at him blankly, reply just as flat, “Yes.”
Jinwoo opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. After a second, he closed it again and shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Of course, you do,” he murmured, bemused. Honestly, he should’ve expected that. It was just so you.
A voice echoed in your mind, soft and respectful.
My Lady, Sir Jinwoo’s shadows have located the entry permit. We can now ascend to the next floor.
“Red informed me that Igris’ team found the entry permit,” you relayed to Jinwoo.
He raised a brow. “Red?”
“The child who always hovers to my right,” you said, and as if on cue, Red fluttered down to your shoulder. You patted her wings lightly, murmuring, “Well done.”
Igris materialized behind Jinwoo, confirming the butterfly’s report with a respectful nod.
Jinwoo made a mental note to ask you more about your telepathic connection and the mechanics of how your butterflies were born. For now, it was time to ascend.
“Let’s move.”
Together, you ascended to the 80th floor.
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End Note:
Unfinished Draft of [18/11/2024] -
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edges-of-night · 2 months ago
Note
Hi! I'm sure everyone tells you this, but I absolutely love your writing. Seeing your new posts always brightens my day :) It's a silly request, but could I ask for the elves reacting to a reader who's a Starfleet officer/from the Star Trek universe? TYSM and sorry if this isn't what you usually do
Thank you for your kind words, anon! It always brightens my day to hear that this blog brings people joy ♡
As for your request: People who’ve seen my main blog will know I’m a Trekkie, so I couldn’t let this classic fandom crossover slide haha! I’ve turned Reader into a Vulcan working as a Starfleet officer who ends up in Middle-Earth by accident (damned transporter interference…)
Enjoy the read and – of course – live long and prosper!
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・゚✧ Arwen.
Arwen is probably one of the best inhabitants of Middle-Earth to run into if you’re stranded in an unknown place. Whether you get beamed into Rivendell or to the riverbends of the Bruinen, the Elven lady is quick on her feet and recognises you as someone in need of help – especially when others speak of you with great suspicion. “Do not listen to their words. They have no meaning where my heart is concerned.”
Arwen is kind and curious, making it increasingly hard for you to follow the Prime Directive. She must not know about your starship, but of course it is senseless to try and hide your worries from her attentive gaze. Though she might not know of your dilemma exactly, she promises to help you find your way back home and always wants to make sure you’re comfortable in this strange world, being openly affectionate and sometimes even touchy with you – until she sensed that holding hands meant a bit more to you than an Elf… ♡
.
・゚✧ Elrond.
The Lord of Rivendell, Elrond, works almost as logically as a Vulcan, which impresses you. He is a master of knowledge and a lore expert with a vast collection of literature at his disposal. I like the idea that maybe the Prime Directive would not even concern him because he has heard of star-faring people but always considered them legends, until he met you.
Not only is Elrond an intelligent conversationalist – he is also the most considerate and kind host you could have wished for. He respects your drive for finding a solution to your problem but also endows you with comfortable quarters to retreat into, as well as a vegetarian menu to eat. To further help you clear your mind, he’d invite you to a session of harp playing. The music is soothing, not too different from your Vulcan lute – and yet entirely new – fascinating!
.
・゚✧ Galadriel.
The Lady of Light knows of your presence in Middle-Earth even before you yourself do. She immediately senses that something is off and delights when she finally gets to meet you. “How nice to have a face to the stranger on our earthly shores,” she’d whisper in your head. Her fascination with you is intense and maybe even scaring you a bit. However, logic suggests you have nothing to fear of her.
Galadriel’s resources and ancient knowledge, as well as the futility of upholding the Prime Directive, make the search for a way back to your ship easy. Before you go, however, Galadriel would ask you to join her telepathic palace – which you agree to. Her mind meld is more powerful than any you have ever performed before. It gives you a glimpse into her internal lights that are eons olds and yet young and beautiful. To remember it, Galadriel would give you a strand of her legendary hair as a parting gift ♡
.
・゚✧ Haldir.
Honestly? Haldir running into a Vulcan might be the funniest combination in this post – the stone faces would be off the charts! At first, the beautiful Elf and his ability to hide his emotions (minus his thinly veiled contempt) would fascinate you, as well as his matter-of-factly duty of keeping you out of Lothlórien. Maybe you’d point out, “It would seem we are both simply following our orders.” – “Indeed.”
However, you can be just as silent and stubborn as Haldir, so the two of you would probably spend an entire night just staring each other down, until he has had enough and finally escorts you to his Lady to make you her problem instead of yours. It is obvious to him that you do not belong here, so his sense of duty makes him care for you – which he would never admit to, of course!
.
・゚✧ Legolas.
Initially, Legolas would think of you as a fellow Elf lost in Mirkwood, which is good for the Prime Directive but bad for someone as untalented with lying as you. Eventually, you’ll informed him of your suspicion that the two of you belonged to entirely different species. He would ask you about your body then, as well as your workplace and perhaps your family. But after the friendly ‘getting to know you phase’, Legolas knows your weaknesses and will try to mess with you – in a playful and non-hostile but all-too Human way, testing your patience and logic alike.
That said, he will do what he can to help you get back to your world and ask many questions about it. “What is it like? To fare the stars as if they were islands in an ocean? What does the moon look like up close? Oh, there is no moon in your world? There hasn’t always been one here, either. Look that way… up, silly, not at me! You see it…?” ♡
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By the way: The young Romulan warrior Elnor, a main character from Star Trek: Picard, has an Elvish name according to the showrunners. One meaning of “el” (as in the names of Elrond and Elros, for example) is star, and “nor” means run. In both Sindarin and Quenya, dear Elnor’s name roughly translates to “Star Trek”!
Being candid and brash, a skilled fighter and absolute sweetheart, I think he’d get along splendidly with dear Legolas, for example...
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ruiniel · 9 months ago
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What You Choose
Fandom: Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba
Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x f!reader
Count: 2K
Rating: T (M later)
Part I
Summary: Rengoku survives the fight with Akaza, but some battles are not so straightforward.
Tags & Warnings: Rengoku lives AU, blood, injury, death, pining, angst, second person POV, demon slayer!reader, tsuguko!reader, Rengoku POV, eventual smut
Author Note: I am not OK and will never be OK about *waves hands* all that, so this is now a multichapter story.
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II.
“Once again, you’re a guest in my healing ward.”
Kocho Shinobu speaks softly, as is her manner. She's seated by his bed with the afternoon sun shining gently on her features, highlighting the amethyst in her hair and eyes.
“I seem to be the only one,” Rengoku replies, looking at the empty infirmary. He’s still bedbound and can barely move his limbs. It hurts to breathe more often than not, and there’s a dull ache where his left eye used to be.
Her kind smile never falters as Kocho looks at the liquid in the syringe she’s preparing. Rengoku always admired her decision to honor her late sister this way, by holding on to that smile Kanae loved so much. After all, everyone has a keepsake of their loved ones in their heart, driving them forward. Memories, moments, words that hone one’s spirit and meld with determination, acting as a guiding light in the darkest places. He knows this all too well. 
“At least you won’t be lonely during your convalescence, those three have been coming here every day, even before you’d awoken.” She giggles, seeking a vein in his arm. 
Oh, of course… young Kamado… the boar lad, the yellow-haired boy. All of them gifted, resilient, and unwavering. He’d promised to train them, but…
That was… before. 
Another image appears before his mind’s eye, drenched in fog—you, running towards him. He, ordering you not to interfere. “Kocho. Tell me, please. How long before I can leave this bed? What is lost, what can I regain?” 
She sets the used syringe aside on a tray, then places her hands on her knees. “My, my, impatient already?” 
Rengoku tries a smile of his own, though it hurts the muscles in his face. If not for the strong sedatives and painkillers administered to him since he regained consciousness, he imagines he’d be squirming in pain. “I want to self-assess myself. Besides…I have promises to keep.” 
She understands. He knows she does. The Insect Hashira gazes out the window, and a small sigh leaves her chest. “Your fatal injuries have been healed by the peculiar blood demon art of young Kamado’s sister.”
He nods. Remarkable. He thought that would be his last battle, and he’d have passed without regret into the land of Yomi. Nevertheless, his gratitude is boundless.
“... your muscle and organ tissue has regenerated and there was no internal bleeding. However, there is still some damage to several vertebrae in your spine, severe trauma to your head I’ve not fully assessed yet, and you have eight fractured ribs.”
“Hah, I can feel them, too! I miscalculated by one, I thought there were seven.”
She looks his way, with that odd expression people sometimes have when he sounds unreasonably high-spirited. He supposes not everyone shares the same outlook, and that’s all well. But what use is there to bow down in dismay and accept the worst life throws my way? 
“Your left eye was smashed, and irrecoverable,” Kocho goes on. “We removed it with surgery and placed an implant inside to fill the empty eye socket. The recovery period in these cases is typically a year, as now you must adapt to your monocular status. But this also depends on the individual, and… this might mean alterations to your fighting style, of course.” She rises and picks up the tray. “I’m convinced that with time, you can return to a state allowing you to perform your duties. For now, please rest, that is a foremost priority.”
My friend, you know all too well that time is never on a demon slayer’s side. “Thank you, Kocho.”  She is right, though: he does feel exhausted, as though he’d climbed a mountain without rest or ever reaching the summit. Expected, though bothersome.
“We’ll do our best to help your recovery. Aoi will return later to change your bandages,” Kocho adds.
Rengoku turns his head as Kocho greets someone on her way out, and sees you, standing in the doorway. “Hello.”
“Hello.”
“You heard?”
You nod, nearing the bed. “Ms. Kocho told me of it all while you were asleep.”
“I’m sorry.”
You tilt your head in bemusement. “What ever for?”
“Because, I won’t be able to help with your training for a while.”
You’ve been at his side often. While in a coma, even if he couldn’t react, even if his body wouldn’t listen, he knew you were there. The thought is a warm one, a foreign sensation: different from the heat bursting in his body during a fight. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to your visits even now, to see how you’re faring, to hear the latest news on the Corps.
“No,” your voice brings him out of his thoughts, “but that does mean I can help you. When you’re ready, that is,” you add quickly. “With rehabilitation training.” 
“Of course!” The fatigue in his body is stubborn, clinging to him like heavy wet wool. “And… I don’t believe I’ve told you this yet: I’m happy you returned safely.”
You look away, appearing utterly miserable. It confuses him. Rengoku’s seen that shadow in his father’s eyes countless times, so often he can’t stand it: self-loathing.
“Forgive me, Master. I should have been able to do more, after all you strived to teach me. I… I could barely be of any use.”
But you were there, you helped protect all those people. You did your part. “You were unflinching, fast, and aided those who needed it precisely like I taught you. You are rank Kinoe, and what's your demon kill count?”
“Thirty-two.”
“There… now that I think about it, even without further guidance from me or anyone else, you’ll make Hashira soon! Our numbers are dwindling while demon activity increases. You’ve seen it. This is a struggle that needs all of us.” Rengoku pauses. The word ‘need’ felt odd coming from his mouth. But the statement is true. Why does it feel incomplete when he says it to your face?
You look down at your hands. “How can you do it?”
He blinks, frowning. “Do what?”
“Be so supportive and encouraging even when you’re lying broken in an infirmary bed. Sometimes… sometimes you are so very strange, Master.”
You do say that to him often, though less so than before. A smile trembles on your lips—it took you a long time to smile again, he recalls. 
“I merely speak the truth…” He can barely stay awake. The slow drip of liquid in the IV infusion is magnified, drowning out all other sounds, and your face becomes hazy as he drifts away.
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Three years prior
The path of blood leads straight into the farmhouse, looking as though someone had been dragged inside by force.
His eyes narrow, and he centers his breaths as he walks forward with his blade drawn. The silence of the glade is eerie, the reek of decay nauseating in the heat of this humid summer.
Soon, he stands on the threshold. Two, there might be two of them. Near the farmhouse is a toolshed, he’ll look there next. Rengoku covers his mouth with his sleeve, eyes closing in pain.
The bodies lie there, some with scattered limbs. This was a family, no doubt about it. The brutality of the mutilation makes his stomach turn, but Rengoku steels his resolve, extending his senses for any hint of the entity’s presence: there is none. He sheathes his katana and enters the space proper. Three hours until dawn.
He descends to one knee, finding the fireplace in the middle is out, but the ashes are still warm. The tatami mats are sticky and stained dark. This all transpired recently. He reaches out a hand, touches an inert arm: not yet cold. Too late, I am too late. But I’ll find you, wherever you are, you damn beasts. 
It’s only due to his reflexes, honed with endless hours of training, that he turns around fast enough, leaping backward before the descending attack.
At first, he thinks it’s the demon, his katana at the ready.
“Don’t you dare touch them!” 
He pauses, nearly too late in avoiding the second strike. A girl’s voice, a human’s heartbeat. His arm shoots out, catching the wooden staff in a strong grip. 
You’re panting, eyes wild and glimmering in the moonlit night. “Let—go!”
“Wait, I’m not an enemy!” he says, taking a better look at you, still holding your makeshift weapon even as you try to wrest it from his hand. 
“How do I know that! Demon!” Your voice is hoarse. Half your face is caked in drying blood, and there must be multiple injuries on your body judging by the torn clothing and the widening dark stains. 
“I’m not a demon,” he speaks calmly but urgently. “I hunt them. Please, they may still be close.”
You jerk your chin towards a corner of the room. “I had him… I don’t need you. Get out of my home!” you yell, more desperate with each word. “Get out, get out, get out!”
Another body lies there in the dark, slitted pupils dark against its milky eyes. The head had been nearly completely crushed. Rengoku freezes in disbelief. You did this? Alone? “Wait, you don’t understand, there’s another—”
A loud crash severs his words as the ceiling collapses, and he barely has time to leap forward, catch you in his arms, and throw himself outside. He rolls onto the ground, pain erupting in his left shoulder with the impact. When he opens his eyes you’re there, safely held against him, face tearstained and body rigid with shock.
But there’s no time to explain further—he feels it. The gurgle of inhuman hunger as a figure emerges from the wreckage of the farmhouse, eyes fixed on them. It does not speak, but growls in hunger; it must be of the feral kind, no reasoning left as the transformation rotted its memories. 
Rengoku rises, changing his stance. “Stand back,” he urges, looking over his shoulder at you as you struggle with your own body. He looks back ahead, grinds his teeth, his breathing attuned to his thought. 
First Form: Unknowing Fire.
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It doesn’t last long. He’s been running from mission to mission, dispensing with different kinds of fiends, and this was yet another run in a long chain that will only end with his own life. 
Once the head is removed, the battle is over. Sometimes there is someone left to check on after the fact; often, there isn’t. But now, Rengoku hurries towards you, descending and slipping a hand under your back, aiding you to sit. “Where are you hurt?”
“Thank you,” you say instead, eyes glazing over. He hopes the Kakushi will get here soon. You point towards your ruined home. “Set it ablaze… please.” 
“Hey, hey, stay awake!” Rengoku urges even as your body turns heavier and your eyes roll back. 
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He expected this to come. Kneeling and with his forehead pressed to the ground he sits still, prostrated before the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. 
A voice like the lull of spring reaches him, setting his worries aside. In his heart, he thinks he’s done what is right.
“Rank Kinoe Rengoku Kyojuro, you are summoned to explain why you have brought a non-combatant to headquarters, instead of having the Kakushi transport them to a civilian hospital.”
“Master, the girl shows extraordinary potential. Her family has been murdered by demons, and yet she managed to fell one before I arrived, alone, despite grievous wounds and bloodloss. Forgive me if I overstepped, but I believe…” 
“Go on.”
“I believe once her body heals and her focus returns, she will join the fight. I believe she will want to. If I'm wrong, I accept all consequences.”
“You sound fairly convinced of this, young Rengoku,” says Ubuyashiki Kagaya. “Though there is no reason to know for certain one way or the other.”
He stays quiet, his heart raging in his chest. It will all depend on you, of course. You may want to have nothing to do with this. 
“But… you’ve not failed us thus far. I will allow it.”
“Gratitude, Master.” And then, almost in the same breath, “If she chooses this, I will guide her myself.”
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TBC
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mountsmase · 2 months ago
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omg I’d love a concept about taking care of mason, just cuddling in bed, making sure he’s ok, I’d be fussing so much
sorry I missed this last night!! This is quite long but I was thinking about this all evening 🙂 enjoyyyy
okay so let’s say you chose not to go to the game and you’re watching from home instead, when it happens you’re obviously worried sick but you know it’ll be a while until you get any updates so you busy yourself with tidying up the house and getting some dinner started for if he’s hungry when he gets home
it’s takes a little longer than expected and you probably send a few too many messages to him asking if everything is alright but you eventually get a phone call from him to let you know that he’s getting a few stitches but is mostly okay, just feeling a little sore and a horrible headache. He tells you he’s been advised to not drive tonight and that one of the guys will drop him home but you’re immediately rushing upstairs to grab one of his hoodies and a pair of shoes, slipping them on and telling him to stay put because you’ll come and pick him up. He resists a little, not wanting to disturb your evening but it doesn’t take much convincing from you because he’s desperate to see you anyway and would much rather have you come and get him than any of the boys having to go out of the way to drop him off
You get to the stadium just as he’s finishing up, kind of relieved to see him walking out of the building but he looks so tired and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s hurting. You unlock the car as he approaches, turning the radio off so that it doesn’t bother his head and he slides into your passenger seat, throwing his little wash bag into the footwell before leaning over and you meet him half way, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s a lot stronger than you expected, his lips working over yours and you have to fight the urge to reach up and thread your fingers into his hair because you don’t want to interfere with the stitches. The whole thing takes you a little off guard, having expected just a soft peck but he’s so tired and after the night he’s had he just wanted to feel you and be close to you, and who are you to say no when he pouts his lips and asks for another?
The drive home is fairly quiet with Mason not really saying much apart from a quick hello and a few questions about your evening, you ask him how he’s feeling but after that you choose to stay quiet too, knowing it’s probably best for him as you don’t want to make his headache worse or anything. He’s close to you the whole way home though, leaning into your side of the car slightly with his hand either on your thigh or holding your own in his lap
He follows you up the driveway and into the house when you eventually get home, switching the main lights on as he follows you through the door but you’re quick in turning them off when he winces slightly, instead switching on the lamps which are a lot warmer.
He isn’t very hungry but you both know he should have something to eat so you finish up with dinner whilst he heads upstairs to change, dishing him up a smaller plate of food just as he walks back into the living room, now out of the blue United gear and in a pair of grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt that have your heart racing in your chest, the urge to wrap your arms around him stronger than ever but that can wait until later.
You dish up your own food and lead him through to the living room where he sits close to you on the sofa, quietly eating until you’re both finished and you chose not to stay in the living room for any longer, making him sit down at the kitchen island and refusing his help as you quick lock up and tidy the kitchen before heading upstairs.
You set up the bedside table with some water and the packet of pain killers he was sent home with, wanting to be prepared if he wakes up in pain during the night and you let him get into bed as you quickly run through your bed time routine, changing into your pjs before climbing under the duvet beside him.
It takes a while for him to get comfortable, with the stitches making it harder for him but he eventually settles into your arms, head resting against your chest with his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. You’d love to speak to him and ask him what’s going through his head, but you know he’s normally quiet after nights like tonight and even more so with his head hurting like it most likely is now, so you just hold him, knowing he’ll speak to you about it when he’s ready and you just have to trust his response when you quietly ask if he’s in any pain or needs more painkillers before sleeping and he just shakes his head against your chest.
He does look up at you though, his tired, slightly glassy eyes peering up at you through his lashes when he lifts his head and you lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, hand cradling his jaw and he leans into your touch as you brush your thumb over his freckly cheek. He reaches up, gently pressing his lips to yours in what might be the softest kiss you’ve ever shared, and you know it’s his way of silently saying thank you.
And as he lays his head back down onto your chest, your heart beating steadily against his ear, he can’t help but think about how incredibly lucky he is to have you. He might not be able to train over the next few days, let alone play in any of the upcoming games, and his head is pounding, but he’ll forever be grateful for you and the way you look after him without second thought.
He mumbles a quiet ‘I love you’, heart fluttering in his chest when you repeat the words and it’s not long until he’s dozing off in your arms, your finger tips scratching gently over his arm and shoulder until you fall asleep not even a few moments later.
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lovings4turn · 9 months ago
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જ⁀➴  𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋  . . .  (𝐆. 𝐑.)
— two things are definite: you like george, and george likes you. unfortunately, you two seem to be the only ones who don't see it.
+ part of my 'be my valentine' mixtape series ! love this song and i was so excited to use it for a george fic, so i hope you enjoy <3
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“oh mate, you’re joking.”
“shut up!” george huffed, running the palm of his hand down his face in exasperation. “it was not that bad.”
he could defend himself all he liked, because in spite of that, george knew it really was.
this was possibly the third time this month that george had fumbled his chance to ask you out, and alex was beginning to grow tired of his friend’s constant pining and lingering stares. 
“here’s what you’re gonna do,” alex said, his voice growing more serious as he looked george dead in the eyes. “you’re gonna ring y/n, and you’re gonna tell her you forgot something at her place. a shirt, socks, anything.”
"but i haven't?"
"not the point," alex groaned. "you're gonna tell her that, so you have an excuse to turn up there. this is your chance. don't be a stupid. tell her you think she's cool, that you like her, something to charm her."
george still wasn't convinced. his brows were pinched together as he ran over alex's plan in his mind, able to find a thousand different ways it could go wrong for him.
"right. and what happens when she realises that i haven't actually left anything there, and i just look like a massive twat for showing up?"
alex wasn't sure that he could take any more.
"mate, you can't just sit around and wait for some sort of fairy tale ending to come out of nowhere for you. at some point, you're just going to have to confess to her."
though he was being assertive, alex was still trying to be supportive, laying a hand on george's shoulder and delivering a friendly pat of encouragement.
"i can promise you she's probably thinking the exact same thing right now, anyways."
george scoffed, his answer hanging in the air unspoken. as if.
unbeknownst to george, alex was a lot closer to the truth than even he may have realised.
the events of the afternoon were playing on a loop in your mind as you tried to dissect every last piece of your interaction with george, from how he'd greeted you - a brief side hug and a smile - to how he'd said goodbye - a weak effort to get you to stay and a silly, yet endearing, wave.
was this your life now? driving yourself mad over even the smallest little details, all because of some stupid feelings?
when you'd first started developing somewhat of a crush on the mercedes driver, you made a promise to yourself that it would never become a thing. and you had kept that promise for roughly four months, until you made a huge error: revealing your feelings to someone else.
ever since you had let it slip to a friend that you actually quite liked george in ways that far surpassed the platonic label, you'd been - for lack of a better phrase - absolutely fucked.
now you had people to fuel your delusions, try to convince you that george had to feel the same way, and no, of course he wasn't just being polite when he offered you his jacket, you fool. outside interference and reassurance should have made you more confident in your feelings, maybe even push you to confess, but instead they'd had the opposite effect.
the weight of the word 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic had really started to resonate with you. though you weren't allowed to dwell on your misfortunes for too long.
some may have chalked it up to fate, some may have attributed it to a divine power wanting to laugh at a poor mortal, but whatever the reason, your phone rang with an incoming call from george.
the stupid candid photo you’d taken as a contact picture flashed up on your screen, and the automatic smile that painted your lips made you want to yell in frustration.
"y/n, hi!"
pathetic was the perfect word to describe you, thanks to how utterly gone you were for george, as the mere sound of your name leaving his lips was enough to make your heart jump.
"sorry, know i only saw you a few hours ago, but i just remembered that i think i left one of my mercedes shirts at yours when i was there the other day."
you didn't even think twice about it, why would you? george had left countless items at your place in the past, and he would leave more in the future.
"no problem. y'can always come by and get it, i'll try and grab it for you."
george's chest ached at how ready to help you were.
"yeah? you're a lifesaver, y/n, really. i'll set off now, should be there in about fifteen minutes."
brief 'see you later's were exchanged, and the moment you set your phone down onto the coffee table, your hunt began.
you didn't recall seeing one of george's shirts anywhere around, but previous mishaps had enlightened you to the fact that things could turn up anywhere. you'd thought that the shoes buried right underneath your bed were odd, until a sock turned up in your bread bin a few weeks later.
nothing was off limits anymore.
yet, somehow, no matter where you looked, you couldn't find the fucking shirt. frustration slowly nibbled at your mind, the sound of a knock being the only thing to break you from your frantic search.
an annoyingly attractive george russell greeted you when you swung open the front door.
in all of the years he'd known you, george thought this was the most adorable you'd looked.
your hair was in disarray, the strands unkempt as though you'd been running your hands through it over and over again. your face shone a little, and you were clearly a little out of breath, if the small, panting gasps you took were anything to go by.
your apartment was a mess, and george quickly realised that you'd turned your entire place practically upside down to try and find a shirt that wasn't even there in the first place.
guilt began to bubble up in his throat, and george hoped that, after today, it would all be worth it. he only had one chance, and he wasn't going to fuck it up.
before he could allow doubt to creep into his mind and sow seeds of regret, george lifted a hand to cup your jaw. the feeling of your soft skin against his palm elicited a gasp to slip from his mouth. the parting of his lips provided you with the perfect opportunity to meld your lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.
feelings went unspoken, for now. time would grant you the chance to properly word every last affection you harboured for one another at a later date.
besides, george was a firm believer that actions spoke louder than words, and this kiss was living proof.
george forced himself to pull back, his forehead resting against your own, and he believed that to die like this would be a blessed fate. because you were definitely going to kill him when you found out the truth.
"i lied, by the way. there was no shirt," he mumbled, blue eyes meeting yours with a wince.
"you fucking dick."
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ddejavvu · 2 years ago
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reader being shy about her period even though she’s been with hotch for while and doesn’t want to talk about it with him, but he’s straightforward about it, knows reader is shy but they’re both adults! so he draws her a bath (and maybe joins her?) and takes care of her whether she likes it or not lol
basically something fluffy 🥺
Drawing your bath is something you do every single night, but tonight it feels different, weird. It's probably the looming threat of Aaron shuffling around in the bedroom, and you're not even halfway through working up viable excuses when he asks the dreaded question.
"Can I join you?"
He's already undoing his pants before giving you the chance to answer. You never say no, the question is more of a formality at this point. But this time you shake your head, turning around to face him head-on.
"Uh, actually, Aaron, I think I want to take this one alone."
He freezes with his hand down his pants. Apparently untucking his shirt leaves him in a position that makes him look like a depraved teenager.
"Okay," He nods, redoing his zipper, clearly taken-aback, "Is there any reason why?"
"My head hurts. I just- I kind of want to be alone."
His face drops sympathetically, and he nods along, already reaching into the cabinet for the advil, "I'm sorry, honey. Here, take some, and when you're out I'll run interference with Jack so that you can go and lay down."
The way he handles it makes you feel bad for lying to him, but you bite the bullet and take the medicine anyways. It won't do anything, and the worst it will do is give you a headache. Then at least you won't be a liar.
"Thanks, Aaron," You murmur, bumping your face into his chest in a low-effort hug that holds more sincerity than it seems to, "I love you."
"I love you, too." He hums, kissing the crown of your head. He makes for the bedroom again, about to leave you to bathe in peace, but he doubles back, "Oh, and just so you know, I saw you were running low on pads, so I picked some up on my way home from work, but they're in that cabinet."
He points beneath the sink and your stomach drops, "I know you usually keep them in your purse, but Jack wanted gum this morning and I saw you didn't have many left, so I just stocked them here. You can move them, it doesn't matter to me, I just wanted you to know where they were."
He barely glances up at you after he's done, but the momentary gaze is enough to see that you're frozen. He stills in the doorway, "Honey? Are you okay?"
"You bought me pads?" The question feels embarrassing, heating your cheeks and burning your belly.
"I made sure they were the same kind," His brows furrow, "Is that.. okay?"
"It's-" You stammer, lip quivering slightly, "It's fine, it's- great! It's too good, Aaron," Tears well in your eyes, "You're too good to me."
"Honey," He croons, rushing to catch you in a hug, "That's- buying pads is not 'too good for you'. You need them, it's just the same as when I make you dinner or drive you to work."
"Those are all great," You gush, staining his dark green polo with your tears, "You're the perfect man."
You don't need to feel his cheeks to know they're on fire, and he chuckles sheepishly, rubbing up and down your back, "I think that's debatable, you can ask a few higher-ups at the office."
"Well you've never bought Erin Strauss pads before, have you?" You sniffle, two damp blotches on his shirt left behind even after you pick your head up out of his chest.
"No," He grins, shaking his head, "No, but one year I bought her a #1 boss mug."
"#1 bitch," You mumble, turning away so he can't see your smirk as he laughs, "Oh, and Aaron?"
"Mhm?"
"You can get in, if you want." You offer, still residually hesitant, "I just- I don't really have a headache. I didn't want you to know about.."
"Your period." He finishes for you, voice strong and sure of himself, "Alright. Lemme just set Jack up with a movie, then I'll be back."
You take the time he's gone to peek under the bathroom sink, and sure enough, two large packages of your go-to menstrual pads sit beneath a pipe. They're lined up neatly beside his shaving kit, and you marvel at the domesticity they radiate together. You pluck one from the package, fresh and light pink. The wrapper crinkles as you set it on the counter beside your fresh underwear, and a wave of comfort washes over you. This is your house, and you're allowed to live in it.
Comfort steps aside for amusement, though, when you picture Aaron striding into a corner store in his suit and tie, picking up two packages of pink pads, and handing them over to the teenage cashier.
"What's so funny?' He peels off his shirt with ease now that it's no longer tucked into his pants, discarding it on the floor.
"Nothing," You insist, a smile still lingering on your lips, "I bet the 15-year old checker was fun to talk to."
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krirebr · 4 months ago
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In honor of your weekend wedding roadtrip:
1) Which CE!babe would you want to meet and hang out with at a wedding when you go without a +1?
2) Which CE!babe would you be excited to ask to be your +1 for a wedding?
Oooohhhh, I love this!
I went through a few possibilities for this but you know who I think it is? It's Jake. You're seated at the same table for dinner and you just hit it off. You talk to him the whole meal and even the stuff he talks about that you don't really understand, you still like listening to him. And when you talk, he shows so much interest. It's really nice. Then once the dancing starts, he's just so much fun. He's dancing hard and yelling along to the music with you and your friends and then he immediately comes and gets you for all the slow dances. At the end of the night, you get a little melancholy because you've just had such a good time and now it feels so fleeting. But as you're leaving he calls after you, and ducks his head shyly as he asks if he could maybe have your number cause he'd really like to see you again.
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2. Oof, I don't know about you, but I've been to so many cousins' weddings. And going to those alone just sucks. Even in my position, it is not fun, especially when all the aunts and cousins are trying to figure out why I didn't bring anyone yet again.
So maybe you're staring down another family wedding and you just don't think you can bear to do it alone. So you ask Steve to go with you. And he isn't your boyfriend, but there's been something between you lately. So you're thrilled when he says yes. And he's so good all weekend. He expertly runs interference with your big extended family. He charms all the aunts and uncles. He gets you alone time when you desperately need it. He's basically just a great shield for you the whole trip (pun only partly intended). And the wedding itself it fun. It's great to have someone to talk to during dinner and a guaranteed partner for all the slow dances. And during each of those dances, you find the two of your bodies getting closer and closer and you find yourself wanting when the evening is done.
The next day, on the drive home, will either of you have the courage to name what's been happening between you?
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