#i'd give more but this is my first night in my bed after 16 days so my brain putty. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flowerandblood · 7 months ago

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The Lost Haven (6/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, injection of a sleeping drug, violence, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She had felt the closeness of his body all night: his arms locked her in his embrace every time she rolled over on the bed, with a murmur of satisfaction finding with her a new position in which he could snuggle into her.

Although he kept his hand on her bare buttock, desperately wanting to feel her skin, she did not perceive this touch as sexual per se: there was a need for physical affection in him that only another living, warm body could give.

He smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, mint gum and intense, masculine perfume. This combination dulled her and relaxed her making her fall asleep again immediately even when she woke up, his touch, his presence, their bodies entwined together soothed her.

She was sure that in the morning he would wake up horrified by everything that had happened, begging her to go to the pharmacy to get the pill that would prevent any unplanned pregnancy, the effects of their ill-considered excess.

He, however, took her again, more tenderly and slowly, making her feel so good, too good, because, after all, it should feel bad, it should be disgusting, it should hurt.

But it didn't.

She was too wet, he slid into her too easily, he was trying too hard to rub against the spot from which shivers of pleasure ran through her, making her womanhood twitch with convulsions of sweet ecstasy.

She felt remorse for not standing up to him, for opening her thighs to him twice even though she had promised herself that it would never happen, that it was just her hideous deviation that she would keep to herself forever.

"Are you taking pills?" He asked when it was all over, and she froze, snapped out of her reverie.

"No." She muttered, knowing what he meant, what he was going to say.

She felt like vomiting at the thought.

He surprised her when his lips placed a warm, gentle kiss on her cheek.

"It's your body. But know that I'd like to be the father of your child. Someday. You decide when. If ever." He whispered in her ear and she froze completely, shocked.

I'd like to be the father of your child.

Someday.

If ever.

How could he say something like that?

She felt a twinge of regret towards herself that something in his words brought her a strange relief.

He couldn't be her boyfriend, her husband, but he could be the father of her children.

"I…I don't know what I'll do yet. I need to think about it." She mumbled, feeling her heart pounding like crazy, not knowing what she was supposed to respond to his words.

She heard him swallow hard, as if something hurt him in what she said.

"Let me know when you've made your decision about...you know. Please." He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he wanted to know what she was going to do.

Whether or not she would buy the pill in the pharmacy.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that even if she complied with his request, it wouldn't change anything.

"So that you won't answer me?" She asked in a shaky voice, hearing him lift himself on his arm at her words.

"I'll. I swear I'll. Hey. Hey, look at me." He said, but she didn't believe him, because she knew he would hurt her again.

They were destined to do so.

It was just a pleasant dream, nothing more.

"I mean it. I swear. I…" He didn't get to finish because they both flinched and pulled away from each other, terrified when they heard a loud banging on her door.

"Open up." Daemon called out and they both stood up as if burned, dressing quickly.

"Wait a minute!" She said, handing him his shoes and jacket.

"Go to the toilet." She whispered to him, running quickly to the door herself when she heard him lock himself in the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

She swallowed loudly, trying to control her panic and opened it, looking at her step-father with big eyes. She opened her mouth, but he spoke up first.

"Get changed, we're leaving immediately." He said dryly, looking her over from top to bottom, his brow furrowed.

Did she overlook something?

Could he see what she had just done?

"But why so sudden? I'd like to have breakfast. Has something happened?" She muttered, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Viserys is dead." He said, and she froze, feeling her heart stuck in her throat.

With a remnant of her strong will she held herself up from looking behind her, towards the toilet.

God, he'd definitely heard that.

"– what? – but –"

"They called the ambulance, Alicent found him dead in his bed. Who was banging on your door last night?" He asked, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

She couldn't lie, she had to think of something.

"Aemond. We talked about the past." She whispered, looking at him pleadingly, asking him to leave it alone.

"Is he here?" He asked coldly, stepping inside, looking around the room. His step headed towards the toilet, and she stood in his way.

"Y-yes. He was drunk and fell asleep on the floor. You scared me, we didn't know what to do." She muttered, feeling burning tears of shame and horror under her eyelids, the fear that squeezed her lungs made her breathe with difficulty.

One more time, just this one more time let me lie, she thought.

Please, this one more time.

"Get out of there. Now." He directed his words towards the door, which opened a moment later.

Her uncle came out of there pale, trembling all over, though she had no idea whether from fear or because of what he had heard.

"Go to your mother. She needs you now. Your older brother is completely drunk." Her step-father said, and her uncle passed them without a word and left, not even bestowing a single glance on them.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, clenching her thighs together, feeling his semen begin to flow down her leg.

She took a deep breath, trying not to burst into sobs and to keep up appearances that nothing had happened.

When Daemon's hand touched her head and pulled her to him, making her hit his chest, when his arms closed her in a secure embrace, she burst out into a loud, miserable cry.

She was pathetic, she was dirty, she was worthless, a simple whore, a vessel for his seed.

He did what he wanted with her, and she allowed him to.

"We'll go to the pharmacy. We'll sort it out. Don't worry." He said, and she felt both gratitude and horror at his words.

We'll sort it out.

He knew.

Her distraught mother went with Alicent and her siblings, and she, Daemon and her brothers were to return home together. On her way out of the building she spotted her uncle smoking a cigarette, his gaze blank and absent, directed somewhere in the distance.

He heard their footsteps and turned, meeting her gaze – the way he lowered his head in shame, looking away made her feel tears under her eyelids.

Of course it had ended like that.

It was just a dream, nothing more.

"We'll stop at the pharmacy on the way. Your sister is feeling unwell." Communicated Daemon as they set off, driving out of the car park.

She looked at her uncle again through the window and saw that he was looking at her, his eyebrows arched in pain, his lips parted, as if he regretted letting her go without saying goodbye.

She swallowed hard, resting her forehead against the glass, unable to focus on Jace's or Luke's questions, fearing what would now happen to their grandfather's business.

That's what everyone was wondering now, she thought.

As they drove down to the shopping arcade near their house, Daemon stopped in the parking lot and looked at her over his shoulder.

"Are you going to manage on your own or should I come with you?" He asked, and she felt her heart squeeze with pain.

She was afraid.

"Can you come with me?" She muttered, feeling tear after tear begin to run down her cheeks. Jace touched her shoulder, terrified.

"Do you feel that bad? Did you poison yourself with something?" He asked and she nodded, looking straight into her step-father's eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I poisoned myself with something very badly."

The experience of walking into a pharmacy with her step-father to buy a morning-after pill was one of the strangest and most uncomfortable things she had experienced in her life.

The lady pharmacist looked at Daemon grimly, as if she assumed he was responsible for all the fuss, putting her into a state of utter embarrassment.

Even though she tried to stand up to him, Daemon paid up and told her to hide the pack in her backpack as soon as they walked out of there.

"Read the leaflet carefully. Do everything as it says."

"I know." She muttered, for some reason bursting out crying again, wiping her reddened cheeks with her hand, trying not to think about the curious stares of other people around them.

"Everything has consequences. It will be fine. Don't worry. I won't say anything to your mother." He said, and she nodded.

It was the right thing to do, the logical thing to do, the safe thing to do.

This was the right thing to do.

When they got home, she went upstairs to her room and locked herself in, saying she wanted to take a shower. Daemon and her brothers were waiting for a call from her mother, and her stepsisters were in classes, so she had apparent peace and quiet.

For now.

She sat down on her bed and pulled a small packet with one pill inside from her backpack. She unrolled the leaflet and started to read, but couldn't concentrate.

I'd like to be the father of your child.

Why did he say that?

Did he want to have a clear conscience?

She swallowed hard, burying her face in her hands, not understanding why she had doubts.

After all, she was so young, still going to university. How would she explain her pregnancy? What would she tell her mother? That it was casual unprotected sex with a stranger, that she could have taken the morning-after pill but was an idiot?

She wanted to call him, to talk to him, but immediately afterwards she thought that he would tell her anything so that he himself would not feel remorse, the end result being that she would be left with a swollen belly, grief and humiliation alone.

She pressed her lips together and took the tablet out of the packet, grabbing for the bottle of water standing on her bedside table and hesitated, wanting to put it into her mouth.

Yes.

No.

I don't want to.

But it's the right thing to do.

I don't want to.

But I can't do it alone.

I don't want to.

I could love this child.

I have always wanted to be a mother.

I'm scared.

No one will understand.

I don't want to.

She closed her eyes, stood up, went into her bathroom and threw the pill into the toilet, flushing it down, letting it flow along with her certainty that what she had done would have no consequences.

It will be what is meant to be, she thought, sitting down with no strength on the cold tiles, feeling an emptiness in her heart.

When Daemon asked her if she had done the right thing she said yes.

She wasn't sure if he believed her or not, but he stroked her head anyway before walking out and leaving her alone.

By the time their mother got home it was late in the evening: from what she had managed to overhear it appeared that Viserys was really dead, that he had died in his sleep, that he had not suffered and that she was to go to the notary in two days' time to hear his last will.

That was what everyone was worried about.

What share of the estate would go to whom.

She shuddered, feeling the vibration of her phone in her hand, and froze when she looked at the display.

Aemond.

He was calling her.

She swallowed hard, locking herself immediately in her room, panicked, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She answered the call and put the phone to her ear, hearing a noise on the other end, as if someone was driving a car.

"Yes?"

She heard him grunt, as if he was afraid of what he was about to say.

"How are you?"

What kind of question was that?

What was she supposed to answer that?

It was great sex, uncle, maybe we'll be parents soon?

"I don't know." She said, walking closer to the window, not wanting anyone in the corridor to hear that she was on the phone.

She heard him swallow hard, feeling involuntarily how difficult it was for him.

Why was she making excuses for him so easily?

"Did you…go to the pharmacy?" He asked finally.

"Yes."

"And?"

"No."

There was silence on the other side for a moment.

"No, what?"

"I wasn't able to do it. I don't expect anything from you." She said in a trembling voice. "I'll manage on my own. If it turns out that…"

She didn't finish, preferring not to say it out loud.

She heard the sound of the key turning on the other side and the silence indicating that he had turned off the engine.

"I want this. If it's going to happen. I want to be a part of it."

"It sounds right only in your head."

"No. I mean it."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wanting to tell him first that she didn't need his pity, but reminded herself after a moment that this was the day his father had died.

She sighed quietly, looking out the window at the courtyard of her house.

"And you? How do you feel? With everything that's happened."

"Depends on what you ask." He replied, but his tone of voice changed, becoming cool again.

"About your father."

"We knew he was seriously ill. That this was probably his last birthday."

They were quiet for a moment, however there was something warm in that silence, some kind of understanding and comfort.

"You said you didn't regret it." He said finally, and she drew in a loud breath at the memory of what they had done.

She didn't know what she was supposed to answer.

She was sad, bitter, disappointed, but did she regret it?

No.

"I still think so. But I didn't get my hopes up about anything, if that's what you're aiming for. Daemon won't tell anyone about this. He won't…"

"Why was it so right?"

She froze, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at his question.

"Since it was wrong. So fucking wrong." He continued, as if his darkest, most disturbing thoughts were pouring out of him. "Then why it was so pleasant?"

"The forbidden fruit tempts most." She whispered.

She heard him swallow loudly, drawing in air deeply, as if something in her words pained him.

"Is that what it was for you?"

"I don't know. And for you?" She asked angrily, not understanding what he wanted to hear from her after so many years of silence, after he had come to her room in the middle of the night without a word of explanation and fucked her like there was going to be no tomorrow.

"I wanted…nevermind." He hissed.

"No. Say it." She demanded, hearing him twist in his seat.

"For eight years you pretended I didn't exist, I deserve this." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat so strong that she ran out of breath.

Don't hang up, please don't hang up.

"I want to try." He said at last, so quietly and uncertainly that she barely heard him.

"I don't understand."

"I would like to study archaeology. You wrote me that if I asked you to, you would help me get into university." He mumbled like a small, embarrassed child, startling her completely.

What?

"I…well, but…there are only two months left to submit the documents. What day is today? Thursday. Are you thinking about full-time or part-time studies?" She asked, walking over to her calendar, trying to count in her head how much time they had.

God, there was a desire in him to change something.

She knew that if she discouraged him, she might soon find out that someone had shot him in the head.

"Only part-time classes are an option." He replied finally. "Is it manageable? Do they have any…requirements?"

"Passed final exams in high school, preferably in history or a language." She explained. "There are also entrance exams, but they are not difficult."

"I had the best result in the history final exam in the whole class." He muttered and she nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

"Good. That's very good, Aemond. It can be done. If you want, come to my University tomorrow, we can talk to my professor about whether a personal teaching plan would come into play if you got in."

"Is there such a thing?"

"Yes, for students who are working at the same time."

"Really?" He asked, a note of hope in his voice that made her heart clench.

"Yes. Text me when you can be there, the professor has class until 3 p.m. Okay?"

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow." She said and hung up, looking at her phone screen in disbelief.

She didn't know why she jumped up and down with happiness, why she believed that things would change, that she would really get him back.

She wanted so badly to know that there was still hope for both of them.

Throughout the next day she feared he would give up and not come.

She thought with horror that he was, after all, a complete stranger to her.

What did she know about him?

Despite her doubts, he finally wrote to her.

How did he know where he was supposed to arrive?

She figured he might have looked it up on the internet and went out to meet him, intending to pick him up from the car park. When she saw his car pull into the driveway she approached him, keeping a safe distance. He got out of the car and automatically reached into his jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said.

He lowered his hand in a gesture of impatience, furrowing his brow.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She said, and he moved behind her, looking around at the walls of the large, brick, old building from the 19th century.

"Does he know I'm coming?" He asked uncertainly, clearly tense.

People passing him looked at his face, at his scar.

She felt uncomfortable with the thought, angry for some reason that he couldn't just walk down the corridor in peace.

Was it always like this?

In the shop, in the office, in the restaurant, at school?

Everyone looking at him.

"Yes."

When they got there she knocked on the right door. Her professor, Mr Addams, was a hearty, grey-haired, rather short man with big glasses and a short, elegantly trimmed beard. He was a man of great passion and they immediately found a common language through which he began to take her on his private excavations as a help.

In this way, she managed to collect any savings of her own.

"Professor. This is my friend I mentioned to you." She said, glancing over her shoulder, her uncle's face pale and terrified, his healthy eye wide open.

Good God.

Her professor held out his hand to him, and to her relief he showed any social reflexes and shook it.

"My pleasure. Miss Strong spoke of you in all superlatives. Please, let's go to my office." He said, moving briskly down the corridor with a bundle of keys in his hand, and they moved to follow him.

Mr Addams opened the door to the room and invited them inside into a small study with a high window, all lined with wooden panelled walls, an oak bookcases filled to the brim with books, a desk and several chairs all around it.

The professor sat behind the table, sighing heavily, indicating their seats on the opposite side.

"I'm listening." He said, and she looked at her uncle. He gave her a horrified look, convinced apparently that she would do everything for him.

"So. My friend didn't have the opportunity to study because of his job. I was wondering if there would be the possibility of personal teaching plan or part-time study in that case." She said finally. The man raised his eyebrows and scratched his chin.

"Classes can be studied in part-time, but you have to do a lot of practice hours on excavations, as you know, Miss Strong. They are obligatory." He said.

"Yes, but my friend works at night. He could take part in them during the day. Right?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her uncle grunted, tense, not knowing where to look, his fingers clenched into fists.

His face then when Jace took his boxers from him, his loud sobs, his hands clenched into fists as he stood up to his waist in water.

"Yes. Yes, that would be possible." He replied lowly, trailing his fingers along the armrest.

The professor nodded.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." He said and rose, nodding at them.

"Is that it?" Her uncle muttered, looking at her with big eyes, as if he expected to be questioned for hours by this man.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

When they went outside and said goodbye to Mr Addams they stood in awkward silence, not knowing what to do with themselves.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He offered, not looking at her but somewhere to the side, pretending to read something interesting on a poster hanging on the wall.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She replied.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned under his breath.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He sneered, making her feel an unpleasant sting in her heart.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes."

His expression changed, filled with sudden shame and discomfort. He grunted and scratched his chin, embarrassed.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He added, as if to make amends to her for his ill-considered words.

"Larys Strong." She said, and he looked at her shocked as if he didn't believe she had said that.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

Her uncle stared at her wide-eyed, breathing loudly through his nose, his lips pressed together in a way from which she felt fear and a cold sweat on her back.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed, running his hand over his face, turning his head away, clearly thinking of something she didn't like.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said impatiently. He looked at her, surprised.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He muttered.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?" He asked, and she sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She said finally, giving in, recognising that she had no choice, that whether she wanted to or not, she had to help him get out of this life that was destroying him every day.

She didn't want him to die.

He stood over her and stared at her, his warm breath enveloping the top of her head.

"Can I touch your hand?"

She lifted her gaze to him and met his eyes, one blank, staring dully ahead, the other red with emotion, his full lips parted involuntarily in an accelerated breath.

She held out her hand towards him, and he took his from the pocket of his trousers, grasping her little fingers in his.

There was something frighteningly natural about the way they intertwined, how perfectly they fit together, how right they looked in a tender embrace.

"Walk me out."

And off they went together, walking down the University's sidewalks, holding hands as if they were a couple.

There was something childlike and naïve about it, about how tightly their fingers clasped together, how close the embrace was, how much they needed proof that nothing was over between them.

She thought it was a pathetic attempt to reclaim their lost childhood.

She let go of his hand as they stopped at his car and watched as he got in without a word, only to drive away a moment later without even bestowing a single glance on her.

She spent the rest of the day during class unable to focus on what she was hearing, pondering how she was going to fool Daemon and her mother into thinking she was spending time with someone else while she was actually helping him study.

She concluded, when she saw her stepfather's face behind the wheel and not her mother's, that it might be worth it to just stop lying.

When she got into the passenger side of the car and Daemon set off, she began to speak at once.

"I'm helping Aemond get into University."

Daemon snorted at her words, surprised, frustrated and intrigued all at the same time. She clamped her hands on the fabric of the backpack lying on her lap, dreading his answer.

"Interesting."

Is that all?

"I want to help him prepare for his exams. He has very little time."

"No."

She swallowed hard hearing him say the word coldly and confidently.

"Why?"

Daemon switched on his indicator and turned at the crossroads even though he should have been driving straight, leaving her stunned.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" She muttered, feeling her heart start to pound like crazy with terror.

"You'll see."

They stopped in one of the busiest streets in the city: her stepfather had told her to get off, so she did, moving a moment later right behind him towards one of the pubs.

"Not open yet, mate." Said a tall, stocky man in a black suit stopping him with his hand.

"For me it is. Mate." He scoffed.

The man wanted to say something, but someone from downstairs called out to let them in.

A woman.

They went down the stairs inside: apart from them and the bartender, who was mopping the floor, a beautiful black-haired woman was sitting at one of the tables, bent over a laptop. Seeing her stepfather she stood up and approached them with a smile that was both seductive and disturbing.

Her eyes were unnaturally green.

"Well, well. Fucking Alys Rivers. The world is small." Daemon said and shook her hand in a gesture as if they had once been partners.

"What brings you here?" She asked softly, directing the gaze of her bright eyes at her, her voice melodious and deep.

The woman examined her figure from top to bottom, as if she had just been looking at something tasty.

"I came to show my step-daughter the brutality of life." He explained, glancing at her over his shoulder with some kind of pride, as if he was just about to teach his son some very manly and important things.

Alys Rivers cocked her head at his words, glancing at her with a look that frightened her.

As if she had heard of her before.

"Oh. I see. Well, I won't disturb you. It was good to see you. Give my regards to your wife." She said and returned to her seat, clicking something on her laptop again.

Daemon moved forward and sat a table at the other end of the room. She sat next to him, tense, and after a moment a man came out of the back room who had not noticed them, walking straight towards the black-haired woman.

It was only when she saw his face that she understood why her stepfather had taken her there.

He had three long scars on the left side of his face.

The man only noticed them when the woman pointed her finger at them. He nodded at them and Daemon reciprocated the gesture, looking at her.

"Guess who left him such a beautiful reminder."

On the way back home, she was silent, because that was also the state of her mind: it was empty. No thought, no feeling, no sound or word flowed through her: images from outside the window flashed before her eyes, as if she were watching a film.

A passive observer of someone else's life.

"Robert wasn't the only one. There are seven others. Most recently Tyland. They were in arrears, and Otto is very much on his word. I worked for him, just like your one-eyed uncle." He said, and she looked at him shocked.

"What?" She muttered.

"I slammed them with a baseball bat until they looked like a red tomato. They had all their facial bones broken. They looked like completely different people afterwards." He said, and she lowered her gaze, feeling discomfort, horror, disbelief.

She rarely thought about what they did to people who didn't pay them on time because she knew that if she started doing it, she wouldn't get a single peaceful night again.

"Your uncle is now his dog. The faithful hound he has raised for himself for eight years. Even if some part of him would like to run away, he knows he cannot bite the hand that feeds him. A dog can only have one owner, and that is his grandfather, even if you wish it were otherwise."

"Don't speak about him like that. As if he wasn't human." She exclaimed in pain, looking at him in disbelief. Daemon shook his head.

"You don't understand. He's brainwashed. He's trapped in his big cage and he thinks he's free. But as soon as he tries to take a step too far, Otto will react and you'll get the message from him that he's not going to university and he'll never see you again. If it was just about fucking, I'd be able to understand it. I also did… reckless things when I was your age, but you get involved, naively mistaking his euphoria at meeting you after eight years for affection that could change anything."

Each successive word from him was like needles that, one by one, drove into her heart, a bucket of cold water that made her begin to quiver, red with shame, sadness and regret.

Some part of her knew he was right.

She closed her eyes, seeing in her mind the face of a man with three scars.

He had done this to him.

How could the hands that touched her so tenderly, so softly, do such a thing?

A dog can only have one owner, and that is his grandfather, even if you wish it were otherwise.

She knew that the comparison her step-father used was cruel and derogatory, but she understood in a way what he was warning her about.

Her uncle was lonely and manipulated by his grandfather, full of complexes and insecurities that made him cling to what was safe and familiar, which if there was too much risk would cause him to withdraw.

She realised that he would never choose her.

What happened between them was pure coincidence, the result of their collision in a place and time beyond their control.

A desperate attempt to connect again.

She spent the rest of the day in the garden, watering the flowers and weeding around them, trying to calm and soothe herself. The sight of them, those beautiful, vibrant colours of their petals gave her pleasure, comfort in a state where she felt she would never experience any other joys in her life again.

The next day her mother and Daemon went to the notary to hear her grandfather's last will. Everyone was tense and sullen from the morning, knowing what it meant.

A war of influence was looming over what Viserys had left behind, pubs, clubs, businesses, more than half of their entire family's source of income.

Jace and Luke were restless, looking out of the windows once in a while, talking loudly about the fact that whatever their mother was getting, Otto would surely want to take from them by force, and they would never agree to that.

"Stop it." She muttered, sighing heavily. Baela, who was sitting next to her, squeezed her hand in hers, sensing her uncertainty.

"They're coming back!" Jace called out as he ran out into the driveway and they followed him, looking with big eyes at Daemon's and his security guards' cars.

Her stepfather stepped out of the car with a broad smile as if he was the winner of some world championship, however, her mother was pale and her face expressed horror.

"Everything. Viserys bequeathed everything to your mother in his will." He said spreading his hands as if he had received a blessing from God himself.

Jace and Luke ran up to him and hugged him as if it was the best day of their lives, but she and her step-sisters felt exactly the same as her mother.

Terror.

Everything.

Her uncles, her aunt, his second wife got nothing.

"How can this be?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

"He left them some big estates by the sea and in the city. I don't give a shit. Tonight we're celebrating, my dears, we're having a banquet!" Daemon exclaimed as he walked into their house, but she approached her mother, who was barely on her feet.

"Mom?" She muttered.

Rhaenyra looked at her and shook her head, following her husband into the house.

She knew what she was thinking about.

Otto will never leave it like this.

"Each of you will have a bodyguard assigned to you from today. We are reinforcing the security of our home, each of us can now be a target. You do not speak to anyone from that part of the family without consulting me or your mother." Said her stepfather, holding a glass of champagne in his hand, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, giving her a protracted, uneasy look.

She lowered her gaze, feeling discomfort in her stomach, having the impression that she had forgotten how to breathe.

Taking advantage of the fact that Daemon was in euphoria and he, along the other men who worked with them had made a party, she went back to her room. She lay down in bed hearing their laughter and loud conversations downstairs, not understanding where their reason for joy came from.

Did they love killing each other so much?

She shuddered as her display lit up – she reached for her phone with her hand and unlocked the screen as soon as she saw that he had texted her.

She swallowed hard, looking around, wondering if she should do this.

Everyone was downstairs, the security guards were drunk.

Maybe she could sneak out?

She knew the code to the gate, maybe no one would notice her if she went out the back door.

Uncertainty, fear and trepidation squeezed her heart, but some part of her wanted to believe that he really cared, that in a situation where all seemed lost he was willing to reach for the one thing that gave him hope.

Today he lost everything, she thought.

Can I take more away from him?

So she packed her books from her first year into her backpack and left the room quietly in her sweatshirt and shorts, not even trying to go for her shoes, heading for the stairs. Apart from one drunk, sleeping security guard and two men talking in the kitchen, she didn't see anyone.

She lay down on the floor and began to crawl forward, feeling like a commando on an important mission, seeing from a distance that they didn't hear her. She rose as she entered the dark hallway and quietly opened the door.

She lifted her gaze up to the camera facing the exit and cursed under her breath, stopping halfway.

She had completely forgotten about it.

What now?

She looked around, trying to remember exactly what the image from the cameras she had seen once looked like when she and Daemon were searching for something on the recordings.

One, two, three, four she started counting and spotted an area she was sure the range of none of the cameras included. She ran in that direction, propped a bucket lying next to her feet and struggled to climb the wall, pulling herself up with a groan of effort, leaping over to the other side, almost breaking her legs.

She hissed, falling onto her hands – when she lifted them she saw that she had scraped her skin there and on her knees.

She sighed heavily, recognising that she would survive such injuries and that they would be nothing compared to what Daemon would do to her if he found out she had escaped.

She'll just give him the books and go back home.

She breathed out loud when she saw his car around the corner, its engine and lights on. He opened the door from his side, looking at her with big eyes, and she quickly pulled off her backpack, giving it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but his hand grasped her wrist.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

She stared at him, panting hard, knowing involuntarily what he wanted, feeling the squeeze between her thighs at the thought that she wanted it too.

Comfort.

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

He closed the door behind her as she let his arm pull her around the waist – she clumsily sat on top of him, trying to make herself comfortable on his lap in such a tight space. She lifted herself up on her knees to slide her shorts off while he looked at her with a misty gaze, unfastening the belt to his trousers.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He breathed out, releasing his erection immediately, throbbing and dripping with desire, ready to give her what she needed.

There was no time for any other kind of caress, so she positioned herself over him, lowering herself slowly onto his thick, smooth tip, feeling how wonderfully he opened her for himself, stretching her warm, moist walls.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, clamping his hands over her firm buttocks, panting and moaning loudly along with her, sliding into her in one, deep thrust.

The feeling of him deep inside her was full of tension, her interior suddenly stretched to the limit on his throbbing erection, which he began to thrust slowly into her with trembling, tentative slaps full of impatience.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, feeling how her slickness helped him to force his way into her body again and again, filling her so wonderfully.

Why it felt so right when it was so wrong?

Her hands embraced his neck, their foreheads touched each other as his palms on her waist forced a quick, sharp, violent pace on her from which her nipples hardened, the pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen caused by him rubbing her where she needed it made her gasp.

"– Aemond –" She mewled, trying to find a rhythm with his body, rolling her hips back and forth, filling herself again and again with his swollen, hot manhood, feeling pleasant, warm tickle in her belly.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, pounding into her with loud, wet slaps of their hips, listening how her twitching cunt clicked with his every push. His hand sank into her hair as his moist lips brushed hers, inviting her into the warm, sticky kiss full of their saliva.

Their tongues licked and teased each other, intensifying their sensation, building a swift path to their fulfilment, their bodies slammed against each other greedily with their embarrassingly loud moans of pleasure.

It seemed to her that they were too ashamed and shocked by the situation, by what they were doing, and how pleasurable it was, how liberating it was, to fuck in his car against everyone and everything, the sticky juices of their forbidden fruit running down their thighs each time his cock sank into her weeping pussy again.

She was terrified that, despite the speed and brutality of his thrusts, his hands caressed her body so tenderly, stroking her hair, her neck, her back, her buttocks, her cheeks, allowing his lips and tongue to join hers in loud, chaotic, wet kisses full of their moans.

She couldn't stop the tension that was growing in her lower abdomen, the pleasant tickling in her fingertips and the clenching deep between her thighs that proved she was about to come.

"– where? –" He mumbled into her mouth, her hands stroking his sweaty, soft cheeks, letting the messy, greedy thrusts of his hips give her the pleasure she so needed, her lips parted wide as the aggressive, stupefying fulfilment full of relief shook her body.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She gasped, feeling only pleasure, only relief, only bliss.

He groaned loudly, helpless, and came hard inside her, throwing his head back, panting heavily along with her. He hugged her face to his sweaty neck, exactly as he had then, that night in the hotel room, his half-hard, pulsing manhood filling her with the remnants of his seed.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, making the sound stuck in her throat with emotion.

She parted her lips, not knowing what to answer him, thinking with embarrassment that she somehow reciprocated his feelings.

His hand slid off her head while the other continued to stroke her bare buttock, his soft erection still throbbing deep inside her as his lips placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– forgive me –"

She only drew in the air loudly, shocked, and clenched her hands on his black T-shirt when she felt the needle jab into her neck. Her squeal of horror, grief, and disbelief sounded unnatural, as if she were a small animal being butchered.

Her body became numb, the image around her became blurred and unclear, a heavy, dark sleep descended on her mind as she simply relaxed in his arms, feeling his hand stroke her head again, his cheek nestled against her forehead all wet.

He cried.

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incognit0slut · 1 year ago

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (18)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer and Y/n resolve their feelings. wc: 3k A/n: You have no idea how happy I am being able to write fluff after seventeen parts. SEVENTEEN. Only happiness from now on (which isn't much because sadly there are two parts left)

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

THE FIRST THING she became aware of was the constant noise ringing in her ears. The soft hum of the room greeted her as she slowly drifted into consciousness. Feeling slightly disoriented, she blinked her eyes open, adjusting to the muted light filtering through the half-closed curtains as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Hospital. She was in a hospital. The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air as a sudden wave of panic threatened to engulf her, but then a gentle, calm voice cut through her confusion. Her gaze shifted to the side, and relief washed over her as she spotted Spencer sitting on a nearby chair, engrossed in the book he was holding.

For a moment, she observed him—the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the strands of hair that fell across his forehead, and the intensity in his eyes as they traced the words. His soft-spoken tone was soothing, and after a moment of listening to him, she realized he was reading the book aloud for her.

"...and with that, Sherlock Holmes deduced the mystery, much to the amazement of Dr. Watson," his voice filled the room, and she couldn't help but smile faintly at the choice of literature. She shifted in the bed, and the quiet rustle of sheets prompted him to look up from his book.

"Hey," he greeted softly, placing the book on the bedside table. "You're awake."

She responded with a nod, accompanied by a small, appreciative smile. "Sherlock Holmes, huh?"

"I found a copy in the waiting room. Someone must've left it," he explained. "Thought I'd borrow it before giving it to Lost and Found."

Her gaze lingered on the tired lines across his features. "And you decided to read when you could have slept?"

"I wanted to be here when you woke up again."

A soft smile adorned her face but her brows twisted into a frown as she registered his words. "Again?"

"You've been in and out of consciousness." He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "The doctor said it's common among patients suffering from dehydration."

Her frown deepened, and the weight of the situation began to sink in as she processed his words. Her fingers unconsciously traced the edge of the thin hospital blanket for comfort.

"Is Eric..."

"He's injured, although not fatally. My shot wasn't aimed for anywhere vital," he explained, shifting his chair closer. "But he's in custody. You're safe now."

Relief washed over her, but a flicker of fear remained in her eyes. "I don't remember much after what happened."

"That's understandable," he said gently. "Your body and mind went through a lot. It might take some time to process everything."

She managed a weak nod and her eyes traced the outlines of the IV line snaking into her arm. "How long have I been here?"

Spencer glanced at the clock on the wall, his brows furrowing slightly. "About a day."

"A day," she repeated, the concept feeling both distant and immediate. The realization settled in and a pause hung in the air before her gaze shifted to him again, seeking clarification. "As in twenty-four hours?"

His face twisted into a frown, uncertainty clouding his features. "...yes?" he replied, unsure where she was going with this.

"And I've been sleeping for most of the time?"

"Well... yes."

"And you? How much have you slept?" When she was met with silence, her expression softened as her eyes took in his weariness. "Why are you still awake, Spencer?"

He sighed, a conflicted expression crossing his face. "I just... I didn't want to leave your side."

She studied him, her eyes tracing the lines of exhaustion that clung to his face. Deep lines etched across his forehead and the shadows underneath his eyes spoke volumes about everything he endured. The fading bruises, the slouch in his shoulders, and the tousled strands of his hair all painted a picture of someone who had weathered more than their fair share.

It was evident that even the hospital room had taken its toll on him, and the subtle change into a fresh shirt was his small attempt to regain a pretense of normalcy. But who was she to judge? Here she was, lying on the bed, all weak and worn out. She couldn't deny that she, too, must be presenting a less-than-picture-perfect image.

With a gentle sigh, Spencer eased into the chair beside her bed. "How are you feeling?"

She took a moment, assessing the sensations in her weakened body. The dull ache in her limbs, the lingering throbbing in her head.

"Like I've been hit by a truck," she finally responded with a smile, trying to ease the tension. But his head suddenly seemed to be elsewhere. He absentmindedly nodded, and it was clear to her that something was on his mind.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "What's wrong?"

He looked up, meeting her eyes, and she waited for his response. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally found the courage to speak.

"I'm sorry."

Confusion clouded her eyes. "For what?"

"For... everything." He let out a sigh. "For hurting you, for not being there when you needed help, for not realizing what was happening sooner. For not seeing the signs."

She shook her head. "You can't blame yourself. You were there when it mattered, and you saved me."

"But I should've protected you from the start," he insisted, his eyes searching hers for understanding. "I should've stayed with you—"

"It's not your fault. Don't apologize for something that he did."

"But I could've prevented it from happening if I didn't leave your house in the first place."

She studied him for a moment before letting out a sigh. "Look, if you're going to keep on apologizing, might as well do it in comfort." She shifted over on the bed, making room between them. "Come here."

His gaze flickered between her and the mattress. "I'm not sure that's allowed."

"What? Do hospitals have a policy against sharing a bed with visitors?"

"Well, technically—"

"Spencer," she interjected. "Just lie down with me. Please."

He hesitated for a moment, but after a brief internal debate, he relented, deciding that being close to her trumped any hospital regulations. Slowly, he settled onto the bed, careful not to disturb any wires or machines. But then she suddenly sat up and Spencer frowned. "Wait, where are you going?"

"Outstretch your arm."

"What?"

"Outstretch your arm," she repeated.

He followed her instructions, and she laid back down, resting on his arm. As she nestled against his side, he couldn't ignore the warmth that spread through him. He simply looked at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement when she kept pressing herself against him. His hand instinctively fell on her waist. "What exactly are you up to?"

"Testing a theory. I read somewhere that lying on someone's arm can regulate their heartbeat and help with stress. And given your guilt-ridden apology, it seems you could use a bit of stress relief." She then settled a hand over his chest. "But it doesn't seem like it's working, your heart is beating really fast."

He felt a blush creeping up his cheeks as her fingers traced gentle circles over his chest, the warmth of her touch sending ripples through him. "Well, you're lying unexpectedly close to me, I wasn't exactly prepared for that."

She laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "Just... try to relax. You've been through a lot too. You don't have to hold yourself together for my sake."

He slowly nodded, letting himself sink into the moment with her. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest against his side, the gentle pressure of her hand over his heart. But guilt still rippled through him when he studied the weariness in her eyes, or the IV line sticking into her arm, or the bandage wrapped around her hand. He hated seeing her so weak that he couldn't help but blurt out another apology.

"I really am sorry."

She shifted slightly, turning to look at him. "I know you are."

"I wish I could have done more to protect you," he continued.

She reached up, tenderly brushing a strand of hair from his face. "You did what you could with the information you had. No one could have expected what happened."

He sighed, and she continued to trace gentle lines across his face as they fell into a comfortable silence. But much to her dismay, it didn't last long when he suddenly interrupted their moment. "I... I have another apology."

She was the one who let out a sigh this time. "What is it now?"

"I..." he hesitated, searching for the right words as his eyes wandered around every corner of the room but on her. "I-I want to apologize for being rough on you that day when we... when we—you know."

She raised an eyebrow, amused at where this conversation was heading. "You mean when we had sex?"

He nodded and diverted his gaze away from her, looking slightly embarrassed. She laughed and cupped his face, forcing him to look back in her direction. "Why are you suddenly so embarrassed?"

His cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he met her gaze. "I'm not used to discussing these things so openly, especially when I feel like I mishandled the situation."

Her laughter softened into a warm smile. "Spencer, we were both in a difficult place that day, I wouldn't say you mishandled anything." She leveled her gaze on him. "I trusted you. I knew you weren't going to hurt me, which you didn't, and I can assure you that I enjoyed the sex very, very much."

"But I-I tied you," he insisted. "I used handcuffs on you. Handcuffs."

"Well, did it ever occur to you that I liked being tied? That I like it when you're in control?"

He studied her, and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he fully registered she was being serious. "You do?"

She chuckled at his wide-eyed expression. "Yes, Spencer, I do. I thought it was very obvious." She gave him a smile, fingers tracing soothing patterns on his cheek. "But if it makes you feel any better, we can come up with a safe word."

"What's a safe word?"

His brows furrowed in confusion, prompting her to burst into laughter. She couldn't help but find his innocence endearing.

"It's something you say to stop or slow down during sex, especially if things get uncomfortable or overwhelming," she explained, her laughter subsiding.

"Oh," Spencer said, a hint of realization dawning on his face. "That makes sense."

She nodded, still smiling. "So the next time we explore our sexual needs, we can use our safe word."

There was a pause before he murmured, "Next time?"

Her smile faltered at his question. "Do you not want a next time?"

Noticing her sudden withdrawal, he placed a hand behind her, pulling her closer to him. "I want there to be a next time," he confirmed and sighed in relief when he felt her relaxing again. "You know, I just want to spend more time with you in general."

Her smile returned, warmed by the sincerity in his words. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I want to take you to dinner."

"Dinner sounds lovely."

"And take you out on a date."

Her smile widened. "What kind of date do you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking of the museum. Or maybe the library." Then his eyes lit up with a hint of excitement. "There's also this planetarium I've always wanted to visit. Did you know that the planetarium nearby has one of the most advanced digital projection systems? It's supposedly a state-of-the-art projector that can simulate the night sky with incredible accuracy."

A genuine smile graced her lips. The excitement in his voice brought a sense of relief to her. It wasn't just a reaction to his enthusiasm about their planned date, but also the subtle transformation in his demeanor. He seemed more relaxed.

"That sounds amazing." And just because she couldn't stop herself from flustering him, she added, "But the real question is, will there be sex in this future date?"

Spencer's reaction was immediate, his face flushing with embarrassment. "Stop teasing me."

"I'm serious," she laughed, thoroughly enjoying his momentary discomfort. "I want to know what I'll be expecting."

He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I guess... If you want to, then yes."

"Of course, I do, but I want to hear it from you." She grinned when he gave her a pointed look. "Spencer, you've given me more orgasms than I can count, why is it so hard for you to say the word sex?"

Spencer shook his head, attempting to brush off the embarrassment that lingered. "You're unbelievable."

Despite his attempt to resist, there was a subtle twinkle in his eyes that betrayed the amusement he couldn't fully conceal. A reluctant smile stretched across his lips, and he finally conceded, "Yes, Y/n, we will have sexual intercourse in the future."

She laughed, the sound echoing in the room. "How romantic."

Her teasing expression softened into a warm smile, and Spencer couldn't help but be captivated by the warmth in her eyes. Feeling a surge of affection, he gently pulled her closer. There was a subtle shift in the air. Their eyes locked, and for a moment, she nestled into his embrace. But it was hard to fully linger in his arms when her IV line seemed to be getting in their way.

"Hold on, I think I have to turn around," she said, her fingers tracing the thin tubing connected to the IV. Spencer released his hold. "I should probably get off the bed."

"Don't you dare," she threatened, and turned to the other direction gracefully, adjusting herself without much difficulty. Once settled, she pressed her back against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her again.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

She nodded, a contented smile on her face. "So much better."

Spencer held her a little tighter, and somehow, his hand found its way to hers, softly intertwining their fingers. He held on to her as if he didn't want to let go, as if the simple act of holding her hand offered a sense of grounding in the aftermath of everything that had happened. And with a contented sigh, she leaned back into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. She reveled in the moment because life had taken them through twists and turns, and yet, here they were—finding solace in each other's company. The warmth of his hold enveloped her like a protective shield, and for a fleeting moment, the worries that had weighed on her seemed to dissipate.

Gratitude swelled within her—a deep, heartfelt acknowledgment of this moment, of being alive, and of the shared embrace that grounded her to the present.

"Hey, Spence?"

"Hmm?"

Her fingers gently traced over his hand, still intertwined with hers, savoring the connection that seemed to defy the odds. "Thank you for staying with me."

She felt a reassuring squeeze from his hand.

"I'm here for as long as you need me."

"Don't you think this is a little too much?"

Garcia threw Morgan a glare as they walked down the hospital corridor, her heels echoing in the narrowed space. Her eyes then shifted to the balloons in her hand, the container of freshly baked cookies she made in the other hand, and the bouquet of beautifully arranged flowers dangling from Morgan's arms.

"She deserves a warm welcome after what she's been through," she countered. "And it's my first time meeting her in person, I can't come empty-handed. That's so unlike me."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, sure, but we're just visiting. It's not a party."

Garcia huffed. "I believe in spreading happiness wherever I go. And besides, who wouldn't want flowers, balloons, and delicious cookies after being stuck in a hospital bed?" She looked over to the rows of the door down the hallway. "What room did Reid say she was in?"

Morgan glanced down the corridor lined with identical-looking doors. "Room 108."

Garcia led the way, her heels clicking purposefully as she cradled the balloons and cookies with a determined air. Morgan followed, still holding the bouquet, and couldn't help but shake his head at Garcia's unwavering commitment. As they approached the door, she paused to adjust her cookies and then knocked lightly on the door, only to be met with silence.

She turned to Morgan. "Do you think she's asleep?"

"I don't know." He pulled out his phone and tried to dial Spencer's number, only to be met with a constant line of ringing. "He's not answering."

"I think we should just go in."

Morgan hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. Garcia took a deep breath and gently pushed the door open, stepping inside. The room beyond was dimly lit, with the curtains drawn, followed by the soft hum of medical equipment filling the air. It seemed like an ordinary hospital room, but what seemed out of place was the sight before them.

Because Spencer lay on the bed with her, both peacefully sleeping.

"Oh my god," Garcia gushed, stepping further into the room. “Oh my god.”

Morgan couldn't help but wear a surprised smile. "Well, that explains why he wasn't answering his phone."

Garcia carefully placed the balloons at the foot of the bed and Morgan followed behind her, setting the bouquet on the bedside table. She then motioned for him to place the container of cookies there as well before she held her hands together, watching the scene before them. "This is like a scene straight out of a romance movie."

Unable to contain her excitement, she took out her phone and snapped a discreet photo of them. Morgan shot her a disapproving look, but she just waved her hand dismissively and whispered, "It's for the memories."

"Come on," he insisted, grabbing onto her arm. "Let's leave these two to rest."

"One more picture!"

Garcia's voice echoed in the room, and Spencer stirred in his sleep. Morgan and Garcia stilled for a moment, holding their breath. They waited for another second, and thankfully, the couple seemed to be too deep in slumber to hear the commotion in the room.

Morgan gave Garcia a pointed look. "That's enough, Garcia. Let's go."

"Give me a minute,” she lingered. “Let me take one last video."

Morgan shook his head. He took her phone out of her grasp, ignoring her protest, and finally dragged her out of the room—leaving the two lovebirds behind.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: that last scene is kind of a bonus, I just thought it was cute

taglist #1

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cafeinthemoon · 11 months ago

Text

Ruins - Part XXII

Chapter 22

Wordcount 4,1k

Title Part XXII

Fandom Shummatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20 . 21

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, undressing; non explicit sex

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi @telvess @alecfromsaturn (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I don't even know what to say after so long, except that I'm happy to finally come back and put this chapter out 😭🙏 I've been thinking of it for ages and questioning myself whether I'd be able to give these two a proper honeymoon or not, but this is an issue that haunts me every time I sit to write a honeymoon/intimate scene. The potion stuff was something I wanted to include back in the wedding chapter, but it's end up too long so I abandoned the idea. Now I had the chance to use it, and to try to bring some comedy vibes to soothe things a bit 😅

Anyways, hope you have fun! Missed you all 💜🥰

For you were too tired to stay awake after your brother-in-law left, you never saw the moment your husband came back to the private sections of your chambers, as much as when the rays of sunshine first entered the room. When you opened your eyes, the ceiling and the walls were already touched by the warm light, and the people in the tapestry over your head were as joyful as ever.

You tried to move the sheets from upon you and found out you could do it with no problems. You looked around and sensed the room was too quiet. You were also alone in the bed.

You frowned.

Where did he go?

You took a deep breath and, after some effort, you sat on the bed. You felt a strange, but complete relief with that gesture: your strength came back to you, there were no shivers spreading through your skin and no fear making your heart heavy. Was the transformation finished? You couldn’t believe it’d happen so fast, but maybe the hardest part of the process was over and you’d be able to carry on with your activities while it came to its end. Whatever the case, you were content to see you were yourself again.

You left the bed and headed to the bathroom. You closed the door, turned on the lights around the mirror to wash your face… and were static with what you saw there.

It was still you in the reflection, the same eyes, nose, lips and all, but at the same time it wasn’t. You saw a refreshed, cleaner version of you, with an inhuman glow in the lilac of your eyes and a flawless skin to cover each spot. Yes, you were sure it was still you, but more beautiful, more gracious, even without a layer of makeup and a disheveled hair to frame your expression.

So… this is how being a goddess feels like.

You smiled to yourself.

It’s not that bad.

You brushed your hair (which, understandably, took you more time than you were used) and finished your personal care session without taking your eyes off the mirror. You were a bit ashamed for being so vain, but after all the agonizing hours you had to endure to reach those looks, you couldn’t deny yourself such contentment.

You left the bathroom and searched for your robe. You found it on the same chair Hades left his own the night before. You dressed it and looked around, still finding his absence strange. It was when a soft, rhythmic sound reached your ears – his voice, brought by the breeze entering through the balcony, came to you in the form of a song, but you couldn’t recognize the words at first; you frowned and listened for a while, until you realized he was singing in Ancient Greek.

You smiled. You’ve already heard him sing before, but it was never that sweet. From what you’ve learned during his lessons, you were able to understand some verses, which, in the modern language, was something like this:

Under the red skies

Of the first day of Winter

I saw you

Your tiny feet running upon the ruins

Of the Temple of Love

Where after your touch

White flowers would grow

Would you mind

If I took you away with me?

Would you mind

If I hid you away?

As we built our secret place

Out of your flowers

And out of my song...

You followed his voice to the outside and found him sitting on the small table at the balcony, having a filled cup in front of him. He seemed relaxed, in peace with himself like you’ve never seen him before, especially when you remembered the events of the previous night, with his legs crossed and his eyes lost in the landscape.

You sighed at the scene.

Like a King who has his domains assured.

Change came when you took the first step toward him: the ecstatic glow in his eyes appeared and expanded as he turned to you, swallowing your whole form; he raised an unconscious hand and you accepted it, letting him take you to his lap.

You touched his cheek.

– Hi.

– Hi – Hades took your hand on his and led it to his lips – Young goddess.

A heat came up to your face when you heard that treatment. As much as it was flattering, you couldn’t shake the sensation that you were meeting him as if you were a different person now, and it still too soon to know if you enjoyed it. But you wouldn’t ruin the moment with sad deliberations, so you quickly redirected the conversation through sweeter paths.

– Were you singing about a young goddess as well?

– Yes – he curled a strand of your hair between his fingers – One that would touch the ruins of a dark world with her pretty feet, with the sweetness of a damsel and the courage of a warrior.

– And does she reach her fate with such sweetness and courage?

– Her fate, and much more – he approached and kissed your forehead.

You giggled and turned to the table, taking an empty cup and filling it with the same liquid as his cup, which consistence reminded you of milk, but with the color of caramel.

– What song was that? – you put the recipient of the caramel back on the table and grabbed your little cup – You never sang it before.

– It’s a love song in Ancient Greek. The author is unknown, but it was popular among travelers – Hades explained – It’s much longer than this, but this is my favorite part.

– We should learn the complete lyrics, then – you turned to him with tenderness – Then we will sing the whole song together.

– And we can do that during our travels.

– An excellent idea.

The rest of the breakfast went in silence, but after it you two went to the garden at the upper floor. You were were able to walk through it and that made you happy, still Hades didn’t let go of your arm until you decided to sit on a bench. There were some small trees around it, and you saw butterflies and birds sharing their branches peacefully; a couple of birds arrived, persecuting each other, then leaving as fast as they came, their wings making a rustling noise between the leaves, their little voices at their peak. You laughed at this, which reminded Hades of something.

– So how are your ears going? – he brushed your hair behind the left one – You’ve been complaining about the nature noises.

– They’re getting better. I mean, I don’t think I’d stand a lion’s roar right now, but the birds are completely bearable – you smiled.

– That’s good to hear.

You took some time to silently appreciate your surroundings as they displayed what would be a pleasing Spring morning in Midgard. You thought of this for a moment: the plants, the creatures and that whole environment were those of from Midgard, just everything you saw along your stay in the areas reserved to humans in those blessed lands – and all of them were designed by your husband. You felt your respect and admiration for him grow the same way it did when you took your first walk in the Gardens, when you ate pomegranates.

– You thought of all of this before we got married – you said suddenly; and, turning to him, – You thought of everything.

Hades replied with the same modest smile he gave you when you asked if he was there during the planting of the pomegranate tree.

– I wouldn’t say that. I’d say I’ve work with every necessary resource and with the best people I could find, so everything you’ve seen around would have the power of bringing smiles to the young humans’ faces – he raised his fingers to brush your hair – And, as a payment for all this work, yours will be forever on my sight.

Your smile widened at those words before you could notice. You were really content that, more than wishing to see your smile often, he was also creating reasons for you to show it: not so long after that conversation, he took you to take a walk through the depths of the garden, where exotic plants were hidden, and you spent the next hour talking about them and planning how to include your creations at the Greenhouse in the collection.

When you finally went back to the chambers’ interior, you decided you wanted to spend some time in bed, for your legs were a bit heavy. Meanwhile, Hades went to the kitchen to prepare tea. When he came back, you brought out a subject that has been on your mind for days: the travel to Hellheim.

– I’ve been worried about this for a while, but haven’t had the chance to speak until now – you said while accepting a cup of tea from his hands – Is it too long? Is it a difficult path, or an easy one? How does it look like?

He sat by your side with his own tea.

– It’s certainly a long way, especially for the ones who aren’t used to it – and, smiling at your widened eyes, – But I’m not saying this to discourage you, given that the travels between this realm and that one are far from tedious.

You turned on your side to hear more. Now you were completely interested.

– Really? And what kind of things we find through it?

Your husband started describing those strange lands as if narrating an epic story, going from dark skies, menacing rocks, abysses and terrifying natural phenomenons to powerful creatures, brave, minor deities occupied with their work and suspicious wanderers. You learned to love his ability of explaining concepts and depicting scenarios in a way that the images formed in your mind as vivid as if you were inside them; in that particular case, you also appreciated his power of calming your fears, assuring you that the travel was safe despite the things you were going to find.

After the tea, you told him you were sleepy, even though you’ve slept the entire night.

– I’m sorry for this, because I wanted to spend this day out with you – you told him, giving him back the cup – But I’m too tired, though I did nothing that justifies this tiredness.

– This isn’t but expected, little one – he replied before taking the cups to the kitchen – The transformation isn’t complete yet, and it takes an enormous amount of vital energy. You’ll still need some time to regain it, and an even longer period to manage it when your powers start manifesting.

– I see – you slowly laid down on your pillow, feeling both the sleep and the weight of your future responsibilities pulling you to it.

As if sensing your anxiety, Hades offered you some solace.

– But for now you don’t have to think too much about these things – he walked to the kitchen’s door – Th time to take care of them is yet to come.

You accepted those words and closed your eyes, letting the sleep take over your body, which didn’t take long that time.

***

You thought you were going to feel better the next day, and you weren’t entirely wrong in your expectations, but you in fact needed at least three or four days to feel able to walk, stand and do any other activity without a subsequent fatigue, neither the need of sleeping in the middle of the day. During that period, you were visited by Aesclepius twice, and he was content with your progress, something that made both you and Hades relieved: now, as he explained, your body’s tendency would be gathering energy instead of spending it, so that soon you would be as physically and mentally capable as any other god, and the travel to Hellheim wouldn’t be a problem.

On the other hand, Hades, having diligence as his second name, didn’t stay idle: while you recovered, he divided his time in taking care of you, solving small matters with his brother Zeus, checking on your family through Hermes, talking to Aesclepius about your condition and organizing your travel to the Underworld; he exchanged messages with Adamas at least once in a day, to make sure everything was alright in his domains. You, on your part, spent your time alternating between resting and being worried, despite his advice: at the same time you wanted to tell him to take some rest – after all, it was his honeymoon – you couldn’t do much to help him in this sense, neither in any other.

I’ve been increasing his burden since the beginning. He will deny it if I speak to him about it, but I know I’m not helping in anything; even my preoccupation might become an issue. I can’t wait for this to end.

That was why you received the first sign of a complete recovery with great contentment. You noticed it right after you left the bed that day and, taking a chance when your husband wasn’t in the chambers, you went to the arc where you kept your gifts from the ceremony. You’ve searched inside it with nervous hands and took a small bottle from it.

Your cheeks heated up at the sight of the object, its delicate shape involving a rosy potion which perfume was described as having “its own soul, so once it is used, it will always be recognizable by the ones who first sensed it”.

The gift of Aphrodite-sama. I’ve been so curious about its effects, but her explanations were so mysterious, and I was too ashamed to ask enough questions.

You still remembered how she took the chance to approach you while Hades wasn’t around. She passed by your side and stopped before you with such grace, yet so suddenly that you couldn’t help startling.

She giggled, enjoying your reaction.

– You were already a beauty, dear Y/n, but now – the goddess brushed your hair and cupped your face with tenderness – Now you’re the perfect being…

Aphrodite spent a moment in silence, just appreciating what she had in front of her. Then, as suddenly as her arrival, she moved her hands away and took a small object from inside her dress: a bottle that reminded you of the ones in which people sold expensive fragrances in Midgard, filled with some glistening fluid.

She put it in your hands and warned you to not let your husband see it before you had the opportunity to use it.

– Just one drop or two in the sheets, right before you lie down, must be enough – and, surrounding her mouth with her hands, as to whisper a secret – But it wouldn’t be bad if you used a few more.

You stared at the bottle, barely reaching the size of your palm, thinking of those words.

– Aphrodite-sama, I’m very thankful for your gift – you raised your eyes to her – But I’m a bit confused about it. Is it some sort of remedy, or blessing?

She observed you with a mixture of condescension and diversion.

– Most of the times, if used wisely, it will be a blessing, but in other times it will be a powerful remedy – she blinked her right eye.

It was when finally started to understand.

– Oh, this is a love potion, my Lady – you smiled, then frowned – But Hades and I… We’re already in love with each other…

The Goddess of Love laughed.

– I know, my dear. But the purpose of this potion is not making you fall in love… – and lowering her tone – But falling harder.

She approached you one last time and, with a kiss on your forehead, she left you with the potion and a lot of things to think about.

And now you were there, alone with her gift for the second time, and wondering if that was the moment to use it.

I’m torn between the fear of the effects and the curiosity about them.

After minutes of painful deliberation, you decided to open it and smell its perfume… which filled both your nostrils and your soul, drowning you in a wave of powerful sensations: your feelings, thoughts and memories about Hades were all stirred and turned into one, expanding until you had the urge to pour it out; your eyes were filled with tears, and your breath became difficult as your chest would go up and down in ache as you craved his presence. Even as a young goddess, you could tell that the substance held a terrific power.

Now I understand why she told me to use just a few drops.

You adjusted the sheets upon the bed and knelt over them, stretching for the potion to be poured in the center. You slowly turned the bottle to the side, in your best efforts to control your trembling hand, and observed as the first drop fell on the fabric, disappearing so fast that it was hard to tell it has ever been there. More drops followed it in other spots and over the pillows…

When the sudden crack of the room’s door opening made you scream and drop the bottle on the bed, turning the next drops into a whole puddle.

You sat on the sheets, hiding the bottle behind you as you had a confused Hades standing at the door, staring at you without understanding why his arrival got you so scared.

– Is there something wrong, little one? You look a bit nervous.

You were quick to deny it.

– No… No, of course not! I’m perfectly fine! – you shook your hands around yourself as to reaffirm what you were saying – It’s just the noise of these hinges! I can’t get used to it…

With your face on fire, you fell silent after that, praying that your husband would just accept the explanation and change the subject… but, unfortunately, your pairs weren’t willing to grant you this small wish: Hades closed the door behind him and approached the bed, suspicion filling each of his gestures. At the same time, the perfume made its presence stronger than never as the bottle’s whole content leaked to the sheets on your back, turning any attempt of keeping it a secret unnecessary.

– Y/n, what is it? – he looked around the bed – Are you spreading perfume on the sheets?

You shrugged.

– Ah… Sort of.

– What kind of perfume? – he raised an eyebrow – This one seems to possess some sort of spell. Is it one of your wedding gifts?

You shook your head in a positive gesture and slowly brought the bottle to your front, giving it to him with a shy hand.

Once his eyes laid on the object, Hades turned to you with a strange expression, one that you haven’t seen before, and about which you weren’t sure how to feel; your fingers gripped on the sheets: that was the first time you didn’t know what to expect from him.

But you didn’t need to wait too long to figure that out.

You observed as he held the bottle with an attentive gaze, a smile started forming on his lips: he already recognized the nature of the potion. However, it wasn’t shyness or shame that took over your feelings with the understanding: around him and around yourself, you sensed a quiet, yet steady change that grew as the smell spread through the room; you had the sensation that your sight turned a bit blurry, except for your husband’s figure, and that everything was somewhat covered with a rosy light that reminded you of the liquid’s shade. Maybe Hades was under the same impression, for he stood still, staring at you with a glimmer of hunger in his eyes that scared and interested you at the same time. The temperature seemed to elevate in the surroundings even though the balcony’s door was wide open, so you started taking off your robe and moving your hair away from you neck.

The first words said between you after this were his.

– So… Our friend Aphrodite has her own gift for us – he made this observation with a vague, low voice – So clever of her to handle it to you while I was away…

Without taking his eyes off you, he dropped the bottle on the carpet. You didn’t know if it was anger or diversion you sensed in his tone, so you rushed to justify yourself.

– I really wanted to tell you about it, but I couldn’t disobey her instructions – your voice sounded lower than you remembered it, but you kept going – It’s just that, now that I’m recovered… I wanted to do something special… – the air swirled and heated up around you; the left strap of your gown slipped to the side, but you didn’t mind adjusting it – I wanted to have a proper honeymoon…

And that was the instant that changed everything.

Once those words escaped your lips, the blurry wave of sensations poured out of you at last, reaching for your lover and tangling with his own feelings, pulling him ahead, straight to you: without wasting time, Hades got rid of his coat and shoes, throwing himself over the bed as if afraid that you would disappear if he lingered in his place. You were a bit scared by this new impulsivity, but you wouldn’t push him away: the heat that has been increasing since you first smelled the potion, pulsating all over your body, only calmed own when your husband wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his lap, your legs spreading and burying in the sheets on each side, his mouth reaching for yours as you helped him take off his blouse with your little hands.

You moved away for a moment to see the results of your work, and the vision left you marveled: yes, you’ve already seen him undressed once, when he stood with you during the worst point of your fever, but you barely gave his figure the attention it deserved; now, with your strength restored and your sight in perfect conditions, you wouldn’t make the same mistake: from his face, your hands slipped over his skin, across his neck and over his chest, your thumbs drawing circles around his nipples; you smiled when a sigh left his lips. You noticed the vine he had tattooed on his left arm, the same pattern of the one on his forehead.

He is perfect.

– You’re so beautiful… – you murmured to him, your fingers brushing over the tattoo – I’m so sorry for making you wait... I promise I’ll make up for it…

You felt his hands going to your hips and tightening around them, bringing you closer. Your gown slipped, exposing your thighs as your knees were buried on the soft mattress.

– I’ll make sure you will – his lips brushed and smiled over yours – But for you, the wait is always worthy…

You felt his hands caressing your thighs, slipping under your gown and pulling it up. Your heart skipped a bit: that was going to be the first time you’d expose yourself for your husband, so that everything had to be in place: you were now a goddess with a well-built, flawless body, but were you feeling that beautiful now? Were you good enough to appear before him with only your skin to cover you?

Heavens, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, but who would say it’d be so scary?

Still, you didn’t stop him, and when the gown was finally taken off, every inch of yourself under his sight, you remembered the conversation you had weeks ago, in that balcony beside the room, and the confidence in it soothed your nervousness, as much as his hands exploring your figure: his right thumb caressed your lower lip, going down to your chin and your neck, where you noticed his hand was able to surround most of it; both his hands went through your shoulders, your collarbones and, finally, your breasts, where he his thumbs caressed you the same way you did to him. A loud moan escaped your mouth before you could stop yourself, and you put your hand over it, your cheeks burning with shame: apparently, erasing one’s shyness wasn’t among the properties of Aphrodite’s potion; Hades laughed, enjoying your spontaneity, and moved your hand away from your lips, putting it around is neck.

– So shy, aren’t we? – and, letting it clear that he had the same conversation in mind as well, – Let’s take care of this together…

He then suffocated any word or moan that might’ve come out from your mouth with a deep kiss, pulling you tighter against himself as your hands tangled in his hair.

Outtake

Part XXIII

#snv x reader #ror x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #snv hades x reader #ror hades x reader #record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader

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samynnad102687 · 9 months ago

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Growing Old

@struttingstag

April 16 Prompt: Growing Old | 1216 words | Jegulus

James was lying in the bed at their rented villa on the French Riveria with his now-husband. He still couldn't believe that Regulus agreed to date him let alone marry him. They had just spent the last month touring different countries in Europe and it was their last day before they had to go back home to London and back to real life. James was not ready to give up this little bubble they had created.

James looked over to find Regulus still sleeping, curled up into James' side with his head on his chest. James couldn't help but smile down at him. He raised one hand slightly to card his fingers through his hair. Regulus hummed in his sleep as he crowded James even more. James tried not to laugh but it came out anyway.

"Jamie," Regulus mumbled into his chest.

"Yeah, Starlight?"

"Go back to sleep."

"I'd love to but you know me, once I'm up, I'm up."

Regulus peeked up at him from under his lashes with a slight glare but both of them knew it didn't mean anything.

"Why did I marry you?"

"Because you love me and you want to grow old with me," James beamed at his husband.

"Oh, yeah. That," Regulus replied sleepily. "Well, stop moving so I can go back to sleep."

"We go home today, love."

"No."

"No?"

"Nope, we're gonna freeze time and stay here forever," Regulus declared as he gripped James' waist tighter.

"Is that so?"

"Yup."

James was okay with that plan.

James was running around the house trying to get everything ready for Harry's first day of reception. Regulus was in Harry's room getting him dressed. Regulus and James got the honour of dropping him off with Luna while Lily and Pandora got to pick him up after school since he was spending the night with them while James and Regulus went out for the night. In the last ten years, they tried to keep a weekly date night so they didn't get burnt out with work and parenthood.

"Are you ready, James?" Regulus called from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah. Just need to grab his jacket and then everything is set," James replied as he whirled around to look for the jacket he just had in his hand and now wasn't.

"You mean this jacket?" Regulus chuckled as he held up Harry's Spiderman jacket that Pandora got him for Christmas last year.

"I swear it was just in my hand," James laughed as he kissed his husband on the lips.

"I'm sure it was, Mon Soleil."

Regulus shook his head before he helped Harry into his jacket.

"All ready, Haz?" James asked the obviously excited five-year-old.

"Yeah. Is Luna gonna be in my class?"

"Yes, she is," Regulus confirmed.

Harry and Luna were only a few months apart, so they have been inseparable since birth. James and Regulus loaded Harry up into the car and made sure his buckle was secured before James pulled out of the drive. The drive to the school wasn't long but James could already feel the nerves about having his child start school and not being home all day anymore. They arrived and Harry was practically bouncing in his booster seat.

"Do you need help, Haz?" Regulus asked after he opened the back door.

"No. I got it."

Harry unbuckled himself and James handed him his backpack before the three of them walked up to the school and into his classroom.

James never wanted to end up in a hospital's waiting room again. He had just dropped Harry off with the Weasleys for the night when he got a call from the hospital. Regulus was in a car accident, so here he was sitting antsy as fuck and waiting to hear how his husband was doing. The receptionist refused to tell him anything aside from he was still in surgery.

Two hours later, the doctor finally came out to talk to him. By that time, James had called Lily, Pandora and Sirius. He hadn't told Harry yet. Mainly because he wanted to wait and find out how bad it was. James was listening to the doctor but the only thing that came through his cloudy mind was 'Regulus is going to be just fine.' James could have dropped to his knees right then and there in relief if Sirius wasn't holding him up.

After James got his bearings again, he followed the doctor back to the recovery room where Regulus was. Regulus had his leg elevated and in a cast as well as some scrapes and bruises along the side of his neck and chest. James hated that he was injured and mentally cursed whoever hit him.

"It's not as bad as it looks, love," Regulus chuckled lightly as he reached out for James' hand.

"It looks pretty bad, Reg," James whispered as he took his husband's hand. "What happened?"

"Somebody ran a red light and t-boned my passenger side. The doctor said if there was anybody else in the car, they wouldn't have survived and I'm lucky to only have a broken leg and some bruising," Regulus replied as he squeezed James' hand in reassurance. "Everything is going to be okay. Where's Harry?"

"At Ron's. I didn't want to worry him so I didn't tell him anything yet," James replied absentmindedly as he looked at Regulus' injuries.

"Probably a good idea," Regulus mused.

"Haz, hurry up before you're late for your own graduation," James shouted up the stairs.

"I'm coming, Dad. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Regulus was sitting on the couch laughing quietly and James spun around to glare at him.

"I don't want to hear it," James pointed at him but had no bite to his tone.

"If I remember correctly, you were almost late to your own graduation too, so I wouldn't give him so much grief. He does take after his father after all."

"He's your son too, you know," James remarked before he kissed Regulus on the forehead. "Maybe, he'll come down quicker for you."

Regulus shrugged and stood up before he walked to the stairs and called for Harry, "Haz, it's time to go."

"Be right down, Papa," Harry replied and was on the landing within the next minute.

Regulus turned towards James and smirked.

The summer night air was a little sticky after the rain storm but it didn't stop the great-grandkids from playing in the puddles and the mud, no matter how much James and Regulus told them not to. James couldn't help the love that swelled in his heart as he watched them.

James and Regulus were sitting on their wrap-around porch watching them chase each other around the garden. The older two were making sure that the younger three were included instead of ignoring them like most teenagers would do. They weren't on their phones either which James appreciated.

"Can you believe we get to watch our great-grandkids run around like this?" Regulus asked as he cuddled closer to James on the porch swing.

"I told you we would," James replied as he kissed his forehead gently.

"Yeah, you did." Regulus smiled up at him before he continued, "I love you, Mon Soleil."

"I love you too, Mon étoile."

Also posted on Ao3: As Time Passes

#marauders fandom #dead gay wizards #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #marauders fanfiction #regulus x james #jegulus microfic

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writingforstraykids · 1 year ago

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Addicted to you-Chp.16

Pairing: Minchan (brief mention of OT8)

Word Count: 4943

Summary: Chan takes the news better than expected and they end up having a casual date night. The next day Chan has a little surprise for him, making things official for the two of them in private.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, angst, hate comments, date night, they're just stupidly in love, fluffy shit, soft!insecure!minho, soft!protective!chan

Chp.15 | Chp. 17

"Why?" Chan asked, hesitantly.

"Why?" Minho repeated quietly. "Do I have to give you a profound reason so you'll allow me to?" he asked, a little sour.

Chan noticed the tension in his voice and quickly shook his head. "No, of course not. I just…wanted to know, I guess." Minho didn't answer and chewed on his lower lip nervously. "Do you want to tell me?" he added carefully.

"Because I still feel like shit, Chan, that's why," Minho finally said. "I can't just cover that up by playing a happy boyfriend, having amazing sex, and pretending in front of the kids."

Now, it was his turn to remain silent, unsure of how he should react to that. He opened his mouth but closed it again, feeling a little overwhelmed by the revelation. "Is it that bad that you're only pretending to be happy?" he asked hesitantly. Minho let go of his hands with a huff. "Minnie, don't get mad, I'm trying to understand you."

"Well, you're kind of fucking it up. Just forget I said anything," Minho said and tried to scoot away from him, wanting to get away from him. But Chan wrapped his arm around his torso, holding him close. "Chan."

"Don't run from me again. I mean it, I want to understand you. It's just the first time one of you approached me about something like this. I don't know what to say and I’m nervous. So if I seem insensitive, I'm sorry," he told him calmly. Minho groaned frustrated, but leaned his body against him once more. His mind screamed at him to distance himself. His body craved the warmth he’s just got back, after yearning for it for so long. "Please don’t shut me out. Tell me, Min."

"You act like something major has to happen for someone to go to therapy. You thought about ending your life, but backed out because you were scared. You decided not to go to therapy. Not everyone needs a drastic reason to get help," he told him more firmly than he had wanted to.

Chan swallowed hard but reminded himself to stay calm. Minho was on edge and may snap at any moment. "Okay let me put it differently then. I don’t mind if you went to therapy, Min. I know me staying up late and waking you when I finally come to bed annoys you. I wouldn't judge you for going to therapy because I know how much the kids asking where the fucking remote is bothers you. I don't care about the reason. I'd just like to know so I know how to support you."

"It's just a lot of minor things I have to work on. I let all the hate get to me. I feel like a complete fuck-up because my knee is injured and I can't do my job properly. I'm insecure about losing so much weight. I feel like I failed you all by letting myself get to this point and not caring about what it does to others. I'm scared I'll be depressed once you leave because honestly, the time we were fighting was awful. I’ve had you back for a day and I don’t want to lose this small moment of happiness," he rambled on. "I don't trust myself anymore. I lost my confidence on that stage I collapsed on. I feel like I have to function around you and not with you so you won't feel like I'm not good enough..which is totally on me," he continued, tears burning in his eyes. Chan grew very quiet behind him, letting him get his feelings off his chest. "I feel like I fucked up with Felix by showing him how broke I was. I always try to protect him, and yet he’s seen me at my worst. And having sex with him didn’t help. I snapped at Hannie when he asked me to eat after I had been skipping meals for days. I almost gave him a panic attack. I told Hyunjin to fuck off when he tried stopping me from the extra dance practices because of my knee. Seungmin's sassy comments and Changbin fooling around during practice completely pissed me off, and I let them have it afterwards. I completely neglected our baby when he asked for comfort after getting hate online because I was so caught up in my own head…I was awful to all of them, and still, they wrote those sweet letters. Which I feel like I don't deserve..and-."

"Okay, slow down," he said gently as Minho trembled in his arms, tears running down his cheeks. "None of the kids are judging you or have hard feelings about any of this. It was their idea to write the letters and make sure you know they love you no matter what. You saw how excited they were talking to you today and the possibility of visiting. So yes, you deserve every single word of affection they wrote in their letters," Chan told him very gently, rubbing his thumbs over his knuckles. "You're right, I don't need you to avoid working with me because I don't do that around you. You're not a fuck-up. You just need some time off to get better before stealing the hearts of everyone at our shows again with those moves of yours."

Minho chuckled sadly and rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up."

Chan smiled and kissed his temple. "I mean it. You'll gain your confidence back soon enough once you can perform properly again. You're working on the weight aspect, and you know every one of us is willing to support you. I don't know what to tell you about the hate because that's something we all suck at dealing with."

"You really do," he nodded. He stopped counting how many times one of the members searched for comfort in him when it all became too much to bear. Minho felt safe to all the members, and he was always there.

"My point is you're not alone, Minho. You never are. I know you want to work on all the little things to function again. But I want you to do it for yourself. You deserve to be happy and comfortable because you want to be. And if therapy is what you need, you should definitely go for it," Chan told him encouragingly. "Maybe we can even search for someone together and make an appointment for you?"

Minho pressed his lips together tightly and swallowed down his tears. He didn't think Chan would take the news with this level of ease and care. "Thank you," he breathed out.

Chan shook his head. "Thank you for telling me," he said, squeezing him lovingly. "We'll get you through this, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded bravely and cuddled up against him.

Minho pulled the zipper up on his jacket and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Although he was tired after the bath, they decided to take a walk after dinner. The evening temperature brought chills down his spine, as goosebumps began to creep up due to the cold. He was walking next to Chan, who did his best to walk slowly without making it obvious to others who they were. Of course Minho noticed the attempt, but he thought it was rather sweet. They had spent the evening searching for a therapist who seemed fitting to Minho and had sooner availability for an appointment. Luckily, one of them had an open slot tomorrow morning due to a cancellation.

Chan let Minho take the lead. After all, it was his hometown. He was glad they found someone relatively quickly and hoped Minho would feel comfortable with them. She seemed very kind and professional on the phone, at least. He glanced at Minho as the wind blew his hair in his face. Giggling softly, he took off his beanie and put it on his head, gently brushing a few strands of hair beneath it. "Better?"

Minho felt a lot warmer almost immediately and nodded. "What about you?" he asked and gently fixed Chan's natural curls.

"I'm alright," he assured him with a smile and looked into his eyes, admiring the way they sparkled in the light. "I wish I could kiss you right now," he confessed quietly.

"What?" he giggled, surprised at the sudden outburst.

"You just look so adorable, baby." Chan smiled happily.

Minho blushed and punched his arm softly. "Stop it. You’re making me blush."

"Make me," Chan teased.

"You’re lucky we’re out in public, or I would," he smirked before turning a little to the side, noticing the street they were on. He pointed down the street. "There’s a shop that has really great ice cream a little further down the road if you'd like."

"I thought you were cold?" he giggled.

Minho pouted softly. "But it's so tasty, Channie hyung."

Chan giggled adoringly and rolled his eyes fondly. "Is it far away?" he asked. They've already been walking for a while after all.

"Not that far, no," he told him hopefully, and Chan agreed to take the journey. It was a little further away than Minho had thought, and Chan noticed the subtle limp in his steps before he spoke up. "Channie?" he asked at the pulsing pain radiating and grabbed his arm, lifting up his injured leg to take off some weight for a moment.

"You need to take a break?" he asked, and his boyfriend nodded. Chan looked around, but there wasn't a bench in sight. "I'll carry you the rest of the way. Hop on my back, baby."

"Channie, you really don't have to. We can go back the other direction. There's a bench about five minutes from here," he told him.

"You really wanted some ice cream, so we're getting it," Chan told him and turned around, crouching down a little. "Come on."

Minho playfully rolled his eyes before doing as he said and letting Chan carry him. He exhaled, relieved as the pain slowly subsided, and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Thank you, darling," he said softly.

"Of course, Min," he smiled. As they reached the small store, he let him down carefully. Minho’s face contorted slightly at the pressure back on his knee, but he adjusted to the pressure and stood tall. They went into the shop and to the counter to order their ice cream. Chan paid before lifting him up again and stepping close to the counter so Minho could hold them in his hands.

"Let's go find somewhere we can sit," Minho suggested and tried his ice cream, humming softly. "You want some?" he asked, and Chan nodded. Minho moved Chan's in front of his face, not really seeing what he was doing. Chan laughed as the ice cream met his nose. Minho started giggling and carefully wiped it off with his thumb, licking the ice cream off. "Yours is good as well."

"You could've just told me you wanted to try some instead of shoving it up my nose," Chan teased him. Minho chuckled as he held it up for him again. Chan was finally able to taste his own. "Oh, that's actually pretty good."

"Told you," he smiled, satisfied, and continued eating his own.

A few minutes later, Chan finally found a bench for them to sit and gently placed him down. He sat down next to him and giggled softly at the sight of Minho's hands. Due to holding both ice cream cones, he hadn't been able to keep them from melting. It was slowly dripping down his fingers, and they were surprised that none of it had dripped on their clothes. Chan pulled out a tissue from his pocket and jogged over to a small fountain, making it a little wet. He went back and lovingly cleaned his hands for him before taking his ice cream.

"Thank you, Channie love," he smiled and finished his own.

"You’re welcome, darling. Hey, do you wanna take a selfie and post it?" Chan suggested. "To show everyone you're okay after the incident on stage."

"Right, I haven't been online or anything since then," Minho nodded, agreeing, and took out his phone. After taking off the beanie, he took a few pictures, and they searched for their favorite. "What do I write as a caption?"

"No idea, honestly," Chan said.

"Date night with Channie love," Minho grinned, and Chan groaned softly.

"I wish," he admitted.

Minho gently patted his thigh for a moment. "I know, me too." He zoomed in a little and contorted his face at the dark patches beneath his eyes. "I still look like shit."

"You look tired, Minho, that's all. It's probably good if people see that and don't think we're dramatizing the whole situation," Chan reminded him kindly.

"Fair point," he sighed softly and started to write a caption for the picture they'd picked out. He added a second one of him and Felix at the hospital as well, where Felix hugged him and he smiled into the camera bravely. "Is that enough drama?"

"That's good," Chan laughed at Minho's theatrical sigh. Minho handed him his phone to let him read through it.

Slowly getting better and taking some time off. What better way to start your exile than a visit by the ones who are responsible for it 👀💕

"Always so dramatic," Chan giggled.

"You wanted drama, here you are," he smirked and took his phone back, uploading the post. Only seconds later, his phone lit up with several notifications of likes and comments. Minho unlocked his phone, scrolling through them, and smiled at his fans' sweet messages and encouragement. He leaned closer to Chan, letting him read along as some mentioned what a great leader he was, visiting him. "If they only knew what a visit from you actually meant," Minho smirked, and Chan laughed out loud.

"Came here for comfort, had great sex instead," Chan said, pretending to type a comment, and Minho started laughing.

"Channiee," he shook his head and looked back at the comments. His smile faltered seeing a few more comments rolled in.

You're back already? I was happy hearing I wouldn't have to see your stupid face for a month. Loved seeing you fall like that on stage, I hope it hurt.

Always knew they'd be better off without him. Should've stayed eliminated.

Chan had still been looking at him and frowned softly at the sudden change in his mood. He glanced back at the screen, and his heart sank as Minho didn't have a sassy reply in store but remained quiet. "Minnie…" Chan gently eased his phone out of his hand and blocked those users for him. “They don’t know what you’re going through.”

Minho swallowed down the lump forming in his throat and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can we go back?" he asked quietly, suddenly feeling sick.

"Wait a second. I'll send their account to our staff so they can keep track of their ID and-"

"Chan, please," Minho shook his head tiredly. "It's just a comment. I don't know how many more will show up. Telling staff won't make a difference. I love you for trying to help, but there's no use in chasing anonymous bullies," he told him quietly and could barely meet his eyes.

Chan handed him back his phone and nodded. "You're probably right…Listen, I know that's probably not what you want to hear right now, but don't focus too much on that one hate comment, okay? You received a lot more sweet and loving comments," he told him gently.

Minho had to smile at Chan, using his own words from a few months ago. "When did you get so smart, huh?"

"I learn fast," Chan smiled kindly. "I think it's time to take your own advice to heart, kitten."

Minho glanced up at him, and his face softened immensely. "I missed that one," he confessed.

"Oh, really?" Chan asked, knowing how much he could make him melt with just that one word.

"Too bad we're in public. It makes me really want to kiss you and snuggle up in your arms," he told him.

"Don't tease," he sighed softly. "Let's go back, I want my kiss," Chan jumped up, deciding to give them a better reason to return to Minho's home. Minho made grabby hands in his direction, and he pulled him up.

A low moan slipped from his lips once he stood, and he let go of Chan's hand, carefully reaching down to check his knee. "Fuck," he breathed out. "I think I really overdid it today."

Chan knew there was no way Minho would be able to walk the 15 minute journey back home. "I'll carry you. And tomorrow, we'll take a shorter route."

"Okay," he nodded and apologized as Chan lifted him up once again. "If you keep doing this, your back will be fucked up by the time my knee is healed."

"You're not that heavy," Chan chuckled. But not even a moment later, he corrected himself. "You never are, you know." He reminded himself about Minho’s insecurity about his weight.

Minho noticed the effort and smiled to himself. "If you say so." About five minutes into their journey, he was starting to feel sleepy and rested his head on his shoulder tiredly. Chan kept on rambling on about something, but Minho couldn't keep his attention on him. All he did was slowly get pulled into a deep sleep as Chan's voice softly reverberated through his body, softly rumbling against his chest.

Chan noticed the quietness and chuckled softly. "Are you tired, kitten?"

"Mhmm," Minho hummed quietly, already having trouble keeping his eyes open. "I think I'm gonna fall asleep."

"That's okay, I know the way back," he assured him and smiled softly as Minho buried his face partly in his neck. Minho planted a tiny kiss on his neck and giggled at Chan's pleased hum. Chan could tell he was asleep as he felt his breathing slow down against his back. He was glad he'd only have to walk for another two minutes as Minho’s body weight became heavier because he was asleep. Once he reached the house, he pressed the doorbell, knowing there was no chance he'd reach the keys in Minho's pocket.

Luckily, Minho’s parents were still up and opened the door. "Is he okay?" his father asked worriedly.

"He's fine. We walked a little too much, so I carried him back since he was in a bit of pain," he told them. "He fell asleep on the way back."

"Oh, did you carry him all the way back?" his mother asked, and Chan nodded. "Make sure to be careful with your back."

"That's what he said too" Chan giggled and carefully let Minho down, quickly turning around. Minho winced softly and slumped against him sleepily. "Shh, it's okay. I'm just taking off your jacket, alright?" he asked, and Minho hummed, letting him proceed. Chan took off the beanie as well and lovingly brushed back his hair before picking him up again, in the front this time.

Minho wrapped his legs and arms around him, burying his face in his neck comfortably, not even noticing his parents watching them.

"Let's get you to bed," Chan said, adjusting his weight slightly. "Hold on tight, okay?"

"Kay," Minho mumbled drowsily and locked his hands together behind his neck as Chan carried him up the stairs.

Chan kept talking to him quietly on the way up, trying to keep him awake long enough to get into bed. Minho chuckled sleepily at something he said and tightened the grip of his arms around his neck.

Minho's mother watched the two as they walked away, hoping that Chan and her son would be figuring things out together from now on. He seemed so much happier with him around. It usually was her son taking care of others. It was good to see someone who looked after him with so much care and consideration. With so much love. Exchanging a look with her husband told her he was having similar thoughts.

Chan sat Minho down at the edge of his bed and kneeled down in front of him, untying his shoes for him. He gently helped him out of his sweater and pulled a shirt of his own over his head, knowing Minho loved stealing his clothes. Once Minho was ready for bed, he made grabby hands in his direction.

"Channie, lovee," he whined cutely, already falling asleep again.

"I'll be there in a moment, baby. I promise," he chuckled and closed the bedroom curtains. He set an alarm for tomorrow morning and slipped into bed. Minho scooted closer to him, pushing his leg between Chan's, and buried his face in his chest. Chan cuddled him close and soothingly massaged his scalp.

Minho suddenly pulled back. "Wait, I promised you a kiss," he said, making Chan giggle and quickly connect their lips.

Chan couldn't help but smile at how slow and lazy the kiss was. "Night, baby," he said softly as he pulled back.

"Night, love," Minho smiled before cuddling into his embrace again.

The next day, he had his first therapy session. Originally, Chan was going to pick him up once it was over. But he got a text from Minho telling him to pick him up somewhere around the corner from the building. Chan made his way around the building, and found Minho about a half block away leaning against the wall. A quick glance told him that Minho had been crying, and he looked rather tired. Chan took a pair of sunglasses from his jacket and walked over to him, handing them over to him. "Hey there," he said softly.

"Hey," he smiled tiredly and put them on, thanking him quietly. In case they were surprised by the media trying to take photos, no one could see his teary eyes.

Chan walked closely next to him and didn't quite know where to start. "Do you want to grab something to eat and go back home?"

"No," he shook his head and chewed his lower lip. "I could really use a hug right now."

His face softened, and he opened his arms for him, welcoming him in a warm hug. "Do you want to talk about it?" he offered gently, lovingly rubbing his back.

"It was..a lot. I think I overwhelmed her for a moment, telling her roughly about what was happening in my life. She tried to organize my chaos a little so we can work on everything in the following sessions," Minho explained. "I also told her about us since she isn't allowed to talk to anyone about this. I hope that's okay."

"Of course it is," he nodded.

"She said, judging by my emotional state right now, combined with my knee injury that's taking a toll on me, it'll take a while to work this all out. I can see her once a week though, as long as my schedule allows," he continued.

"We'll make it work, and if it doesn't because we're on tour or something, you can still do it online," Chan assured him. "There'll always be a way to find time."

"I'll tell the others soon so they know, but…what about the staff and fans?" he asked. "I mean, I can't drive back home once a week without anyone noticing."

Chan hummed, agreeing. "I don't think our staff and management will support the idea of telling the fans. But it's your decision, so I wouldn't worry too much about that. We can still ask the others their opinion as well," he suggested, and Minho agreed before pulling back. Chan smiled and gently wiped away a tear from his cheek, handing him a tissue.

"Gosh, I hate this," Minho cursed softly before blowing his nose. "I'm so emotional, it’s embarrassing."

"I think it's adorable," Chan tried to cheer him up.

"Me crying all the time?" he asked, trying to be irritated, but unable to hold it together. "You're not serious. So far, you told me you have a thing for me being mad, and now this?" he giggled. “You’re such a weirdo.”

"Seeing you smile is worth being a weirdo," he said, and Minho gently punched his chest.

He sniffled softly and threw the tissue into a bin nearby. "Fine, let's go and get some cookies."

"Cookies?" he asked, and Minho nodded.

"Just wait and see," he said, walking beside him. They walked in a comfortable silence for a little bit, but then Minho quietly stopped in his tracks. "Channie?" he asked, a little timid.

"Yeah?" he glanced back at him as Minho stopped walking. "What's wrong?"

"Can I hold your hand?" he asked softly. "I'll come up with an excuse, don't worry. I could just use some emotional support." He hadn't quite finished his sentence when Chan was already beside him, taking his hand.

"You can hold my hand whenever you want to, kitten," he promised, and Minho smiled sweetly, intertwining their fingers and continuing their journey. They reached another small store a little later, and Chan let him pick out a few cookies for them.

Once they were back outside, Minho glanced at him. "You know you don't have to pay for everything. I'm not broke," he chuckled.

"You always spoil the kids. Let me spoil you," he grinned. "Should we eat them back at yours?"

"Why the hell do you want to get back so soon? I thought you wanted to see the town," Minho laughed at him and noticed Chan blushing.

"I don't know. I just thought you would want to get some rest," he spoke gently. He nervously glanced away as Minho leaned forward to see his face.

"Channie," he giggled. "Don't lie to me, you suck at it."

"Fine, I have a surprise for you. But I can't show you in public," he groaned.

Minho grabbed a cookie from the bag and took a bite, thinking about it. "It's not like no one has seen your abs before," he teased.

"Not like that, Min," he whined.

"Too bad," he smirked, and Chan blinked at him. "I'm teasing you, relax. I'd like to be able to walk properly again at the end of my break. Taking your dick every moment we’re alone won't help reach that goal...even though I haven't so far."

"You're so naughty sometimes," Chan groaned, a blush creeping up his neck and ears.

"You love it, so stop complaining," he grinned, handing him a cookie. "But okay, let's go back. Now I'm curious."

Chan laughed as Minho took his hand again, pulling him with him. He didn't stop trying to make him laugh all the way back, and Minho seemed a lot better than before. Minho handed him the bag with only a few cookies left and unlocked the door. Chan stepped inside and yelped in surprise as Minho threw the door closed and pushed him against it smoothly. He blinked at him and blushed at his loving gaze. "Hi?"

Minho smirked succeedingly before kissing him passionately. Chan dropped the bag and cupped his face, deepening the kiss. "Thank you for picking me up, love," he said softly before hugging him close and burying his face in his shoulder. “Needed you there.”

"Anytime," he told him and kissed his hair. "Ready for the surprise?" Minho pulled back and nodded excitedly. "It's not much."

"I don't care," he chuckled.

Chan giggled before taking his hands and searching his eyes. "Minho, I love you so much. You have no idea how much you truly mean to me. I'm so happy I got to meet you and get to know you the way I do today. I know things are a little complicated in our situation, and I wish we didn't have to hide it. But I wanted to ask you something," Chan said, lovingly fondling his knuckles with his thumbs. "I’ve wanted to since that dinner I've promised you."

"Go on," he encouraged him shyly, not quite knowing where this was heading. But he loved the way Chan was so nervous, like a little puppy.

"I know we've already kinda talked about this, but I never actually asked you. Do you want to be my secret boyfriend?" he asked with a sweet smile, eyes shimmering suspiciously.

Minho pressed his lips together as his own eyes brimmed with tears as well, and he nodded firmly. "I'd love to, Channie."

"Close your eyes, Minho baby," he said gently, and Minho did as he said. Chan took a small box from his pocket and opened it, taking out a delicate silver ring. He gently put it onto Minho's finger, whose lips parted in surprise. "Open up," he said, and Minho looked down at the ring amazed. "I want you to have this as a reminder that I love you no matter what happens or where I am."

Minho was speechless, he couldn’t believe it. He lunged forward, hugging him tightly. "It's beautiful," he whispered honestly, and Chan squeezed him tight. "I'll wear it proudly."

"If someone asks you about it, you can answer honestly. I don't mind people knowing that you mean the world to me," he told him.

"I love you, Channie," he said softly, kissing his cheek before burying his face in his shoulder.

"I love you too, Min," he answered just as softly. Chan's phone suddenly rang, and he groaned softly, pulling it from his pocket. "It's Changbin."

"Go on," Minho nodded.

Chan took the call and put him on speaker. "Yes?"

"You two lovebirds are all over the news!" he dropped the bomb on them immediately.

Chp.15 | Chp. 17

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @mellhwang

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charlieslowartsies · 7 months ago

Text

the reason why my August vacation is so important...

This is a long, kinda emotional for me journal <3

As I mentioned a while ago, I was splitting my usual two weeks in June of debauchery (sleeping & laying in the sun & hiking in the woods outback lol) into one week last month and then saved the last week for the end of August.

I also wanted to explain the significance of this trip! Less about having to justify my time off and more about 'eeee excite omg!' and wanted to share with y'all!

SO a long time ago when I was a wee Charlie, from age 0 up to 21, I was incredibly close to my grandparents on my mom's side. My nana died when I was 15, and while that took a huge toll on me, I was fortunate enough to have my grandpa till 21. These two people were absolutely second parents. My parents did a good enough job raising me, but they had huge fights and my father had anger issues and it caused a lot of wounds. These were the people I could always rely on, when I couldn't rely on my folks.

They lived 2 hours away on a wonderful lake in a lil tiny trailer over looking it. I spent weeks at a time there, even the occasional month. I learned to swim in that lake, which in hindsight prolly wasn't the safest idea due to its depth, and grew up to be obsessed with swimming. Learned how to sail, ski, fish. Learned how to bake, tend a garden, how a fresh bowl of fruit in the morning should be before breakfast.

We'd swim 3x a day, sometimes just to float and cool down before bed, since there was no a/c and the summer nights were hot. Laid on our backs and counted stars like the Lion King. Fried trout on the grill after we'd caught them, had watermelon seed spittin' contests. My grandpa grew pumpkins and carved my name into one, so that the writing grew bigger and bigger over the months. I had one pumpkin live from September to April.

My handprint is on the last cement step leading down to the beach. It was eroded when we scattered my grandpa's ashes in 2014, but I remember where it was, how to place my palm to compare.

I guess I'd say I had a mixed childhood of various great, good, bad, and horrible things. Like most people, yanno? But those golden summer days on the lake were 100% a part of who I am today, and where my many of my happiest memories come from.

Due to me being in college, cost to heat the place in winter when they had no intention of living there, my family sold the property on the lake to an investor who planned to rent it out.

This was 2014. The same year he died, the same year my horse died (within 2 months of each other) and one of my father's many health issues landed him in the hospital from Oct to Dec, so that he spent xmas on an iv stand. With everything going on, we had no time or money for a big dinner, or presents that year.

I guess that was the first year I realized childhood was truly and officially over, and it was time to grow up. Many of us have that marked moment on our life.

Time passed. I finished college, went back home after turning down a few out of state jobs to spend time with my dad, who I had a feeling didn't have much time left. Turned out I was right, as I came home in 2015 and he died in 2022. There was an accident in '16 where he almost bled to death on our kitchen floor, but I was able to provide pressure/medical care and give him some more years.

Shortly after we moved in 17, I was notified that the house on the lake had been rented to someone who unfortunately had a lot of issues mental health wise, and they had eventually abandoned the property. It sat, rotting, and got so covered on the inside in black mold the county leveled the place and destroyed it.

We had left it fully furnished due to the buyer's urging. Ancient, stunning mid century and older furniture from my great-great grandparents time. My nana's organ player. The rocker my mom and I sat in. And, frankly, to quote one of those popular songs, the house that built me was just gone.

I figured that was the end of it, and cried and got angry/sad and then moved on and just tried surviving as covid hit later on in the years.

Turns out, the man who rented it decided that wasn't going to happen again. He put a new trailer on the property, and rented it out for vacationing due to it's location. We didn't know this until I stumbled across it while daydreaming about a vacation on the lake that I missed it was a relative, one I could at least go back to for a few days. My heart skipped so many beats when I saw the address and paused, thinking there had to be come mistake. It wasn't.

Not only can I spend time on that property again (in a new house which honestly might be for the best) But turns out, for whatever reason, they kept the furniture separate and placed a few pieces into the new house. There's a photo of the rocker in the layout photos. The two level lamp they had is still intact and functioning. I booked the place for a week immediately.

It's expensive for me, but my girlfriend and I will make it work. (Certainly not like we have far to travel.) We're going to be there smack dab in the middle of my Grandfather's birthday. I haven't had a true, just-for-me vacation since 2015 when we went to a camping ground. The excitement I have for this is immeasurable.

The dock my Dad and Grandpa put in themselves is fixed up. The crumbled little cement step is still there with a tiny indent, where my 4 yr old hand was pressed. I am going back to this place, and going back in time for just a short while, to heal and have fun and be a whole mess of emotions. I never got to say good bye to my Nana or Grandpa.

But I can say goodbye to them now, and say 'hello again, old friend' to the lake, and the new little house that sits before it.

That is why i am so excited about august. I know I don't share personal things on here a ton, but I wanted to share this. Thank you for reading this far if you have, I appreciate it.

I hope you have a wonderful day and remember how important you are <3 And as always stay hydrated! -Charlie

#txt #long post #emotional stuffs

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redgoldblue · 3 months ago

Note

hellooo. for the fic asks: 8, 16 (to be mean back, affectionately), 20, 38!

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Well, okay, I was originally thinking of a bit in I Would Break Into Your House (the dialogue immediately around the kiss in v. including "This is an intervention for your brain, not my dick.", or possibly the bit after Danny finds the grenade in iv.), but I reread the first part of the almost-finished Muncle wip today. and as stated on a previous reblog i miss Napoleon and Illya. and the major reason I like this part is that I do think it really sounds like both of them, and despite having written so much of them for last year's advent calendar, I'm still having to work to make sure I capture their voices exactly right. But I think I got them here, including Illya's understated yet campy dry snark and Napoleon's equally campy chronic unbotheredness.

(Jeanne is another agent Napoleon slept with the night before)

“Not up to your standards, my friend?” Illya asks, dropping his bag onto the nearest of the single beds. “Oh, my standards aren’t that high. Just thinking it wouldn’t be up to Jeanne’s.” “Ah, no. I can imagine many things wouldn’t be.” The look Napoleon gives him is definitely amused, a wry dart from under his eyelashes. “Didn’t take a liking to our Agent Voix?” “Am I not allowed my little foibles?” “You’re allowed as large a foible as you’d like,” Napoleon tells him, patting him on the shoulder as he passes. Sitting on his own bed, he adds, “I certainly have enough.” “We are discussing one of them,” Illya agrees.

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

I mean... I think I have the same answer as you actually. it is mean bc I write for so goddamn many pairings, and I love writing for all of them both separately and for the internal variety. But in the end I think I'd have to pick Steve/Danny, on historical evidence alone (the 22 in brackets after Hawaii Five-0 on my AO3 dashboard, 7 more than the next fandom down, which is one I've been writing in for... four years longer. only four years longer? god H50's been with me for a long time.)

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

Ooh. there's a few elements - music, moving vehicles, rain, liminal spaces/times, a certain state of tiredness where I've just gotten the perfect ability to like, zone into hyperfocus without actively getting sleepy, which is usually associated with having woken up early but not having had to do anything particularly mentally strenuous. They all came to a head in my ideal writing condition one (1) time in my life, which was getting the train from Melbourne to Sydney (a 12-hr ride) by myself, which meant leaving at 7-something am, after a brief vacation and a friend's wedding. Unfortunately I actually had to also be studying for an exam at the time, but I did get some writing in. I'm contemplating whether I can work things so I can repeat it in the opposite direction next month when this term ends (post-exams this time).

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

There is one I still have screenshotted on my desktop from two years ago, so I have to mention it. It's Starsky & Hutch fandom, which is relevant a) bc of course it is, it's the nicest most supportive most receptive fandom on earth and b) bc it's such an old fandom that comments from people you know have been in it for decades always have that extra sheen to them, y'know? And I'm sure I probably actually know who she is but I haven't managed to match username to real person but it's such a nice comment. Self-confessedly gushing about how much she loved it, which is the best type of comment. Also it was on Come Take The Wheel, one of those >10k fics I wrote entirely without deadlines, a fact that always seems vaguely miraculous to me.

fic writer asks!

#fanfic #writing #my writing #The Man From UNCLE #Napollya #Hawaii Five 0 #Starsky & Hutch #mine #itwoodbeprefect #ask games

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nicheappeal · 5 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

Currently looking for a better title for this one than "predebut hyunsung rapefic". So. That tells you a lot about this fic.

Normally I don't bother doing wip wednesdays on here anymore because none of my followers are into skz, but I thought maybe you sickos would be into the concept if not the fandom.

Context for this section, written for people not in the fandom: The characters are around 16, in training to become idols. On the first day Hyunjin started training, he was invited to a party and taken advantage of by some older boys. Jisung was also at this party, but was ~15 and dumb and horny and really really wanted to be liked. So he told himself the story he needed to tell himself about it. It's only afterward, as he started to get to know Hyunjin, that he's started to reconsider what happened that night. It's now some vague amount of time later, and they are becoming friends as well as starting to think maybe they'll go on to be in the same band/idol group.

I would welcome feedback! And if you wanna see more (including some of the more nsfw stuff) I'd be happy to share.

Under a readmore b/c it's a little bit long.

When Jisung finally got back from the bathroom(he’d spent some time after splashing some water in his face giving himself a pep talk), their time in the karaoke room was almost up. Chan had already left, citing work to do. A bunch of the other guys had peeled off with him, leaving just the three of them: Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin.

And despite all that time spent sobering up in the bathroom, he must have still been drunk, because when Changbin invited them back to his house to sleep over and keep celebrating…. He said yes.

Changbin’s house was huge, but he rushed them past it and his parents, hustling them into his room as soon as possible. Probably he didn’t want them talking to his parents while drunk. Which was definitely a good call. Drunk Hyunjin was talkative, loose-lipped and giggling and even a little catty. Who knows what he would have said to them.

And Jisung was hardly any better, struggling to pay attention to conversation, zoning out thinking about… things he didn’t want to be thinking about. Thinking about the last time he’d seen Hyunjin drunk. Thinking about how different it was. Hyunjin hadn’t been bright and bubbly. Or maybe he had, before Jisung saw him. Maybe he’d been bright and happy when they’d all talked about what they were gonna do at the party later. Maybe he’d made fun of them a little, for how bad they wanted him. Jisung’s stomach twisted, and he put a hand over his mouth, just in case. It could have happened, he told himself. He could picture it, could see Hyunjin laughing as he said the words. He could picture it…. But he couldn’t believe it. He just didn’t know what else to believe.

He was too drunk to figure it out, but his thoughts kept looping back. Hyunjin was magnetic, his lips and his laugh and the way he moved and his body. And every time Jisung looked at him he felt that rush of arousal and memory. He was glad when they finally decided it was time to sleep.

But sleep didn’t provide him the relief he expected. Changbin, in an unexpected show of generosity, had given the guests his bed. It was only big enough for two, so he had brought in a futon, laid on the floor next to them, and started snoring immediately.

Hyunjin took a little more time to sleep, tossed and turned until he finally threw an arm and a leg over Jisung and promptly slipped into unconsciousness. Which left only Jisung, sweaty and staring at the ceiling and wretchedly, miserably hard.

“Hyunjin?” he whispered. No response. He tried to get up, but as soon as he moved Hyunjin growled and tightened his grip. Jisung relaxed his body back down and, luckily, Hyunjin relaxed his grip as well. Jisung didn’t want Hyunjin to wake up. The idea of talking to Hyunjin in this state was intimidating, even if he was just asking Hyunjin to let him go so Jisung could go to the bathroom.

But that meant he was trapped. Trapped on a bed with a beautiful boy and a boner that wouldn’t quit and a head still swimming from drink. Hyunjin’s hand was resting where his shoulder met his neck, leaving his entire right arm free.

#wip wednesday #my fic #stray kids #han #hyunjin #this is kind of a test #if I don't get any notes/asks/dms I probably won't post more of this here until I finish it #but if i do #I will!

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falcqns · 1 year ago

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marjorie

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Morgan Stark & Tony Stark

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the more Morgan grows, the more she misses her dad.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of endgame, grief, angst, post endgame

✰ 𝐚/𝐧: tagging @natashasera ! i’ll miss you forever, tony 🫶🏼

don't forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

Never be so kind, you forget to be clever

Never be so clever, you forget to be kind

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were talking to me now

When her father first died, Morgan didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why everyone was upset, why everyone was wearing black, why her mom slept on the couch or with her instead of in her bed.

More than anything, Morgan didn’t understand why her dad wasn’t with her. Why he wasn’t downstairs in the morning, making her pancakes, and drinking his green smoothie like he did every morning? Why wasn’t he the one comforting her after a nightmare or when she’s sick? She loved her mother, she truly did, but where did her father go?

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, you're alive in my head

As Morgan grew, she began to understand. She still fully didn’t understand, but she was able to grasp the concept of her father was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. At first, she thought that she did something wrong to make her dad leave, but her mom squashed that immediately.

“Your father didn’t leave because he didn’t love us,” she had said. “He left because he had to. Because it was between his one life, and the life of half of the universe. He died to save us, to make sure you got to live the life he imagined for you.”

And while Morgan understood what her dad did, it didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make her any less mad when she saw Nick Fury or Sam Wilson, knowing that it could have been them instead, and that she would still have her dad. It didn’t hurt any less when she addressed father’s day cards to Uncle Happy or her big brother Peter, or even to her mom. It didn’t hurt any less, seeing her classmates and friends with their fathers knowing she’ll never have that.

What died didn't stay dead

You're alive, so alive

Although Morgan struggled with this, with knowing she lost her father at such a young age, she didn’t let it show. No one told her she had to be strong for her mother, but when she came downstairs, on May 29th, 2024, and sees her mother holding a picture of her and her father when she was a baby while crying, she wanted to make sure her mom never had to worry about her.

And so, she started to hide the pain she felt, while telling herself it was better this way, this way her mom didn’t have to worry about her.

Never be so polite, you forget your power

Never wield such power, you forget to be polite

And if I didn't know better

I'd think you were listening to me now

And Morgan thought she was doing a good job. She thought that no one could tell, that everyone assumed she had moved passed it.

And for a while, she was doing a good job. She kept her pain to herself. Only cried in the dead of the night or when home alone, or on the day that her father passed.

That all ended, when her junior prom just so happened to fall on October 17th. And then, just like leaves fall from the trees, all those walls she had built up came crashing down around her in a pile.

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

Morgan was getting ready for homecoming, and everything was fine. She put on her dress, had her makeup, hair and nails done, and felt prettier than she had ever felt in her 16 years of life. She put her shoes on, and made her way down the stairs, where her date Ryan, who had also been her best friend since first grade, was waiting for her.

Her mom complimented her, told her how beautiful she was and how much she loved her. Morgan could see the longing just behind the loving gaze in her mothers eyes. The longing for her father to be there, standing with her as she goes off to her first prom. She smiled warmly at her mother, and hugged her for a little longer than she normally would, trying to tell her that everything would be okay; that she had done a great job without him, and that he’d be as proud as she was for raising her as a single parent.

After a few pictures with her mom, Ryan, her brother Peter and her Uncle Happy, Morgan and Ryan were in the back of her moms car, being driven to the winery where prom was taking place.

Morgan was a little sad that her dad wasn’t here for this, but that was something that she had gotten used to. She had gotten used to seeing the empty chair next to her mom at her baseball games, at her dance recitals, at her gym meets. She had gotten used to the empty, untouched spot on the sofa that seemed to taunt her as she opened presents on Christmas and her birthday; and had gotten used to the muffled cries from her mom on those same days.

What she hadn’t gotten used to was seeing everyone else with their fathers, and her not having one. She knew almost everyone else in her grade had dads in some way, but to be faced with it on what was supposed to be a happy night, was really tough for Morgan to deal with. She wanted nothing more than her dad to be the one embarrassing her with her date who was definitely just a friend and who she definitely has not been in love with since 2nd grade, a year after they met. She wanted to hear her dad tell her she was beautiful, that she had made him proud, that while he hated seeing her grow up, he was loving who she was becoming.

But she couldn’t have that. The other girls in her class had that; but she didn’t.

She made it through the pictures by biting her tongue, and avoiding all the other girls in her class, but wasn’t as lucky after dinner had finished and the slower music began to play.

By the time the song “Candle In The Wind” started playing, Morgan felt like she was a house being held together by still-wet glue; one wrong move and she’d be falling apart, letting the entire world what was wrong on the inside.

Ryan convinced her to go dance, and she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay as the song played on. She just had to hold it together until the end of the song, then she could go to the bathroom, cry a little bit, fix her makeup, and everything would be fine.

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

And then, Elton John sang the words “and i would have liked to have known you, but i was just a kid.” and a tear spilled over. Suddenly, she was powerless to stop them coming, despite her earlier strength. She bowed her head, trying to hide the tears from Ryan, but Ryan had always been able to sense when something was wrong with her.

“Hey,” He whispered, pulling her closer. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She also knew she couldn’t lie to him, so she didn’t. “No,” she whimpered, and Ryan wasted no time in dragging her off the dance floor, and leading her outside. He wrapped her in a hug, and let her cry.

She also knew that Ryan knew what was wrong, which she was grateful for. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed and what she was thinking, which made being his friend 10x easier.

“He’d be proud of you, y’know?” Ryan whispered. “Getting this far, with his last name, and not being expelled.” He joked, and Morgan laughed. “You’re the top of our class in every subject, you have an awesome best friend, and you have a family who supports you no matter what. He’d be so proud.”

Morgan sniffled. “It hurts,” She said. “Seeing our classmates with their dads. Knowing that they have someone they can call dad, someone they can go to for things they can’t go to their moms about. I don’t have that, and I hate it.”

Ryan hugged her tighter. “I know.” He whispered.

“I miss it. I miss it all. All aspects of having a dad. I miss him even though I barely had him.” She continued. “I barely had him, and I barely know him because it hurts to much to learn about him, even though there’s nothing more that I want in this world than to truly know my father.”

Ryan shrugged. “I know. I cant imagine what this feels like, and you have full permission to hit me if this isn’t what is going to help;” he said, prompting a giggle from Morgan. “but maybe, it would help if you did learn about him. If you did talk to your mom, to your brother and uncle, read things about him. It might help you to feel closer to him if you know him.”

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

“Hi dad.” Morgan said, sitting down in front of her fathers headstone. “I’m sorry that I haven’t visited before now,” She began. “I never really had someone to take me before, and I know it’s too hard for Mom, Peter and Uncle Happy to come here. And, it was just too hard for me too. Knowing that you’re here, but that I can see you, or hold your hand. But, I’ve realized that that was just hurting me more, not knowing who you are and not talking to you.”

Morgan took a deep breath, before telling her father all about her life. About her accomplishments, about what she liked, and about Ryan. About how she had loved him for so long but didn’t know how to tell him, and that she wished he was here so that she could know what Ryan might be thinking. She told him that she missed him, and that even though she only had him for 4, they were the best 4 years.

“You were my best four years, Dad.” She said, letting the tear run down her face. “I miss you more and more everyday.”

She stayed a little bit longer, not wanting to leave. But, when the sun started to touch the horizon, she knew it was time to head home. She touched the headstone once more, promising to herself that she would come back more often.

“I love you 3000, Dad. I’ll see you soon.”

She opened the car door, and Ryan smiled at her.

“How was it?” He asked.

Morgan nodded with a smile. “You were right. It did help.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” he teased, making Morgan laugh as they pulled away from the cemetery, heading back home.

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Morgan looked out her window, seeing all of the parents saying goodbye to their children.

It was her freshman year at MIT, and she had never felt so ready; so at peace. She had been given her fathers old dorm. And although he hadn’t set foot in this room for years, it still felt like him, and it calmed her. She would miss her Mom like crazy, but she felt safe, knowing she was following in her fathers footsteps.

Her eyes fell onto her forearm, where she had the words “i love you 3000, my Maguna” in her dads handwriting were inked into her skin. It had been her moms idea on her 18th birthday. he had written it on her 18th birthday card, which he wrote the night before him and the Avengers won. She got it tattooed that very same day, and that small little tattoo had become her lifeline.

It no longer hurt, seeing fathers with their children. She felt a longing, something she knew she always would, but it didn’t break her in two like it once did.

Her eyes moved to her left hand, and she smiled. She knew that the man who had gave her the beautiful diamond ring that sat on her ring finger had a lot to do with that, and she couldn’t be happier.

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

“Hi Dad,” Morgan said, sitting down, trying to be careful of the newborn in her arms, and the scar on her stomach that was still healing. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here last week, this little one decided to make his arrival sooner than planned.” She said, looking down at her son with a smile.

“We named him after you.” She said. “Theodore Anthony Stark. Theo for short.” She smiled. “And yes, Ryan took your last name, we got the paperwork finalized. He wanted us to share a name, but didn’t want me giving up your name, so he took yours. Hope that’s okay.”

Morgan swallowed the lump in her throat. “Ryan was going to be here, but he somehow got suckered into moving some furniture for Mom, and I know for a fact that you had something to do with that.” She sniffled. “I’m sorry you won’t get to see him grow up, but I know you’ll always be looking out for him. And I promise to talk about you as much as possible, and to make sure he knows that had it not been for you, he wouldn’t have existed. Thank you for your sacrifice, Dad. It brought me Ryan, and then Theo. I miss you,” she said.

“I think I’ll miss you forever,” she continued. “But I know you’ll always be with me.”

“I love you 3000, Dad.”

If I didn't know better

I'd think you were still around

I know better

But I still feel you all around

I know better

But you're still around

#natashasera #marvel #marvel fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #morgan stark fanfiction #morgan stark #tony stark #iron man #iron man fanficfion #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #mcu fandom

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symphonic-scream · 1 year ago

Note

Hi sorry if you've already gotten an ask about it but I'd LOVE to hear about the okujima single parents au!! Your aus are always great!!

Hehehehehe alright lemme piece my thoughts together for this

So. Yes. The au. Let me start with Makoto's side

Without the intervention she got in canon, she did go on to be a cop. However, early on in her career, she took part in a car chase that ended with a rather horrible accident. Not only did her partner get injured, and the crook killed, but a young family had been involved. Both parents died, leaving their infant twin sons

Makoto, was in a rough place cause of that. But she was determined to outdo the harm she did with good, and sold her apartment, motorcycle, and turned in her resignation. She moved back in with her sister, and fought to gain custody of the two boys she'd inadvertently orphaned

So there she was. Raising identical twins Akira and Ren, trying to give them everything they deserved and more. She got a job as a librarian, and a service dog for PTSD! Johanna. Of course. She works just down the street from where the boys go to school, and she spends all the money she earns on them first. To the point where she's got a floor mattress and they have very nice beds

She hasn't dated, since. Well. Ever really, just a few nights out with a woman or two while she was still an officer. That all changes when she meets her sons' first grade teacher

(psst. That's Haru!)

Let's jump over to her side of things

Haru was engaged to Sugimura, just as in canon, but this time they actually were married. When Haru was 16. In part because he pressured her to do things, and it resulted in. A scandalous pregnancy

She's 17 when her daughter is born, and her has tears in her eyes as she gets to name her. The father is no where to be found, angered at news of anything other than a son. Haru traces wrinkled little features, and signs the birth certificate with shaking hands

Kotone Okumura.

Over the next two years Haru fights for divorce, aided by her father after some time. She's ecstatic the day she wins full custody of Kotone, and they even get a restraining order. Kunikazu covers all her expenses, including their apartment, Kotone's clothes and food, and Haru's night classes. It's not long before she finishes high school and gets her teaching credentials

Fast forward to the time she meets Makoto. Her daughter is 14, and she's never had any interest in the parents of her students. Nothing clued her in that this time would be different! She just called to have a meeting with Akira and Ren's mother to discuss her suspicion of. ADHD behaviour

But the most attractive woman she's seen in a long while slips into the room, a shepherd dog tied to her waist, a worried look on her face. Oh, and nothing got Haru's heart going like a properly concerned and involved parent!

They talk throughout the year, with Makoto volunteering for field trips and always picking the boys up in person at the end of the day. Haru makes sure her students know not to bother the "working puppy", and she starts stopping by the library more on her own

Kotone is super weirded out cause. She's never seen her mom show any interest in a real person before. Ever. She and her friends (the rest of the P3 crew) investigate Makoto by following her around at the library and shit

They don't get together that year. Haru is strict on herself with her rule to not get involved with her students parents. But the day Akira and Ren move up to the second grade, she's pulling Makoto aside to ask her out, leaving a lingering kiss on the edge of her lips

That night Makoto scrambles to call her sister to ask for some cash to at least get herself a box spring. Or anything to make it look like she's not waving that red flag high. Sae makes a big deal of it cause her baby sister is finally taking care of herself,,

And yeah. They date. Akira and Ren already love Haru, and tease their mom a lot. Kotone takes a bit to get used to Makoto, but having someone make her Mama so happy can't be bad at all

So. Yeah. Uhm. There's more but that's the summary lemme know what y'all think!!

#persona 5 au #single parents au #okujima #haru okumura #makoto niijima

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biggestsimp12 · 2 years ago

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🔞Smut prompts🔞

____________________

1. "There's only one rule. You can't use your hands."

2. "Look deep into my eyes, sweetheart."

3. "I want you to leave marks."

4. "I want to watch you fall apart."

5. "I dreamed of you all night."

6. "Face down on the bed. Now."

7. "Don't apologize about your morning wood."

8. "Fuck me like you mean it"

9. "Spank me."

10. "Take me now."

11. "Tell me how you like it."

12. "I just want to please you."

13. "Tell me I'm a good boy/girl/lover."

14. "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that."

15. "We've been at it like rabbits, how are you still horny?!"

16. "It was so worth the injury though!"

17. "Saddle up doll."

18. "Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? 'Cause if you did we're having sex. Right now."

19. "Your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt."

20. "God damnit, now all I can think about right now is you licking my cock like its that ice cream cone."

21. "If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

22. "Don't make me take you home and punish you."

23. "I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly."

24. "You're not going out in that outfit."

25. "Don't give me that look."

26. "You're more than just a one night stand."

27. "Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

28. "You want me to give you your book/phone/item back? Make me."

29. "Like what you see?"

30. "Try to stay quiet, understand?"

31. "We're in public, you know."

32. "I didn't know you were so sensitive."

33. "Don't be so rough. there can't be any marks."

34. "I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying not to kiss/fuck you senseless right now."

35. "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop."

36. "No, I'm supposed to be making you feel good."

37. "Make me."

38. "Stop teasing me so much."

39. "You're in trouble now.'

40. "Take off your clothes."

41. "I'm waiting."

42. "First one to make a noise loses."

43. "Me."

44. "We can't do that here!"

45. "Behave."

46. "What did you just say?"

47. "You little slut."

48. "Your screams are melody to my ears"

49. "Call me master."

50."Trying to test me?"

51."You want to have sex in the elevator? Challenge accepted!"

52. "Why did you wear underwear, when you know I'm going to tear it off anyway?"

53. "Isn't the thrill of getting caught half of the fun?"

54. "Since I've been good, it's time you let me have a taste of you."

55. "You want to put what, where?!"

56. "Your ass or your breasts... the choice is up to you."

57. "Show me how you play with yourself."

58. "Using your teeth, is the only way I'm granting you access tonight."

59. "I don't 'make love', I fuck."

60. "I'd fuck you all night long."

61. "You look like a fucking dog in heat."

62. "You look so fucking hot right now."

63. "Fuck-faster~"

64. "FUCK, I'm gonna come!"

65. "I'll fuck you right here, right now."

66. "Babe, fuck-not here."

67. "You're one cocky motherfucker. Let's go back to my place."

68. "I want to bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk."

69. "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk."

70. "F-fuck-please--"

71. "I'd let you fuck me any day."

72. "You better use a fucking condom."

73. "Tell me what you want me to fucking do to you."

74 "Come here."

75. "Watch me."

77. "I don't want to hear your excuses anymore."

78. "If you can't sleep...then how about we have sex?"

79. "Put that thing away!"

80. "Don't kink shame me."

81. "If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.

82. "I'm going to put on some clothes before you say anything else."

83. "Tell me what you want." 84. "Beat me."

85. "If you insist."

86. "Could he make you feel as good as I do?"

87. "You're n-not um, w-wearing anything under that. are you..?"

88. "Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?"

89. "You taste like fucking candy."

90. "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

91. "You make a sound and its game over."

92. "Just let me finish this/this level and I swear ill go

down on you until you cum at least three times."

93. "If I have to stop what I'm doing, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

94. "I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side. no one will notice."

95. "I haven't even touched you and you're already this wet.

96. "Were you just masturbating?"

97. "U-uh.no, i was just.."

98. "Want some help?"

99. "Ngh.. Fuck it"

100. "Look how pretty you look all fucked up"

___________________________

Feel free to use!

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detective-jane-rizzoli · 8 months ago

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01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? They are dead, but we were inseparable, and I loved them to the moon and back. Today would have been their 68th wedding anniversary. ;',(((

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? My bff, whom I regard as my sis.

03: Do you regret anything? Oh, don't get me started!...

04: Are you insecure? I am.

05: What is your relationship status? Single AF.

06: How do you want to die? ♫♪"I don't wanna die, I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all"♪♫ But to answer the question: quickly, painlessly. Dunno, like suck-starting a 12 gauge shotgun or something...

07: What did you last eat? Hot dog

08: Played any sports? Hell no!

09: Do you bite your nails? I do.

10: When was your last physical fight? Who the fuck remembers?... :/ When I was like 12-14, shortly after dinosaurs roamed the earth.

11: Do you like someone? Sure I do.

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? Nope. After being awake for 20-24 hours, I'm dead.

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? I do! With the burning hate of a thousand suns. May they rot in hell.

14: Do you miss someone? I do. A LOT of people.

15: Have any pets? Nope.

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? Like shit? :/

17: Ever made out in the bathroom? I have. Much more than just making out :P

18: Are you scared of spiders? Not really, apart from some "exotic" spiders I have (luckily) never encountered in my life. (Black widow, tarantula, etc.)

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? Each and every minute, or I should say, second!!!

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? Fuck rememberes... :/

21: What are your plans for this weekend? "Ah, ah, ah, ah stayin' alive, stayin' alive"

22: Do you want to have kids? How many? No way. Zero!

23: Do you have piercings? How many? Just a standard lobe piercing.

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? Chemistry.

25: Do you miss anyone from your past? I think we've already covered this, but let me reiterate: I do!

26: What are you craving right now? Tranquility.

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? I have.

28: Have you ever been cheated on? I have been

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? I have.

30: What’s irritating you right now? Everything. Well, almost everything, lol

31: Does somebody love you? I don't think so. :/

32: What is your favourite color? Just one? Duh... Black. It matches everything. :D

33: Do you have trust issues? You're goddamn right I do!

34: Who/what was your last dream about? I don't remember, and honestly, I don't want to...

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? I don't remember.

36: Do you give out second chances too easily? I used to, but not anymore...

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? Forgive

38: Is this year the best year of your life? Huh? o.O I don't know what you're on, but I want some, lmao. My best years of life were decades ago.

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 16

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? No.

51: Favourite food? Chopped steak with mushroom sauce, potatoes & red wine

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? Sometimes I do, though it's irrational. Maybe some things happen for a reason...

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? Put on some YSL Opium (FYI, that's a perfume, not a drug ^_^)

54: Is cheating ever okay? It's not okay, but it happens.

55: Are you mean? Depends...

56: How many people have you fist fought? Do you actually expect me to remember each and every physical fight as a child? o.O

57: Do you believe in true love? I kind of do...

58: Favourite weather? Oh, those typical gray, gloomy (but NOT rainy!!) november days. Cool but not cold (shaken, not stirred) ^_^

59: Do you like the snow? I don't.

60: Do you wanna get married? Nope. Besides, who would put up with me anyway? :P

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? It would be cute, I guess... Lol

62: What makes you happy? I'll pass on that one.

63: Would you change your name? In a heartbeat.

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? No.

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? All kinds of questionable, naughty things. :P

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? I do.

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? A cashier.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? My bff

69: Do you believe in soulmates? I don't.

70: Is there anyone you would die for? Right now? I don't think so...

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

#ask game #ask #answered #personal #me

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fireyalex · 13 days ago

Note

EVERY question in that ask game

oh EVERY question you say,,, (under a cut since this is long lmao)

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Siffrin. and TMA Jon, and then Hunter and King from the owl house

lighter or matches?

lighter. i don't even smoke (i mean i vape but that doesn't count in this context) and i rarely light candles, but i love being able to just . grab my lighter and start a flame and just Stare at it. I really love fire if you couldn't tell from my username /silly

do you leave the window open at night?

sorta ? not always. I like being able to bundle up in my blankets and it overheats in my room fairly easily so I'll leave the window open to keep my room cold. Depending on just How cold it is though i'll usually just leave it open for like an hour at most and then i'm good for the rest of the night. Definitely leave it open when it's summer though

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

probably bigfoot and yeti? They seem the most likely to be real and they're essentially the same from what I can recall, just different regions/climates

what color are your eyes?

hazel!

why did you do that?

because it was silly

hair-ties or scrunchies?

hair ties. I used to like scrunchies but my hair isn't really long enough for them to actually Work and i've found that strangely they get caught in my hair more ? idk

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

uhhhh just one i think? I don't ever get the plastic ones and I only have one water bottle but i do also have my coffee cup in here

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

hot coffee. i don't care what the weather it i always get hot. i get cold coffee on Very rare circumstances

would you slaughter the rich?

that depends, would you rat me out?

favorite extracurricular activity?

marching band. or just band in general. The one thing i miss the most from high school was band. Just being able to be a part of something bigger than myself while still being so incredibly important. Being able to just play music and relax and not worry about anything in those moments. I've been wanting to look into joining a community band/orchestra lately but I would need to get my clarinet into the shop first since it's starting to crack and some of the pads are warped but i don't have the money right now

what kind of day is it?

it sure is a day ! Honestly pretty productive tbh, got the trash out and got my groceries, had to deal with the bullshit of insurance and getting prior authorization approved for my testosterone, and i'm getting ready to cook some dinner here in a little bit rather than just making freezer food.

when was the last time you ate?

I mean i had a brownie a couple hours ago? but dw i'm getting ready to cook an actual meal soon lmao so give it like an hour

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

YES it's one of my favorite things

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

i am a very proud cat parent

can you drive?

lmao no. I'm terrified of driving but thinking about learning soon

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

i have 20/20 vision so neither i think

what hair products do you use?

dove 2/1 shampoo and conditioner. I'd Prefer having separate shampoo/conditioner but unforch i am broke and this is cheaper to get

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

yes as long as i get to choose the color /silly

do you say soda or pop?

soda

something you’ve kept since childhood?

I don't think I really have anything unfortunately. I had to get rid of everything when I moved out of my old house when I was like 15 or so because of a bed bug infestation so everything I own now has been after I turned 16. but the thing I've had the Longest at least is probably the deck of black butler cards I have

what type of person are you?

i have . no clue how to answer this tbhh. silly? Always kind no matter how cruel the world is to me? always as optimistic as I can be while still being realistic? idk!

how do you feel about chilly weather?

love it I prefer chilly weather I love being able to bundle up and wear thicker clothes. favorite outfit right now is a black turtle neck underneath a red patterned sweater

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

stargazing

perfume/body spray or lotion?

body spray I can't stand the texture of lotion

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

um. next question!

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

usually around 7-9 hours?

do you wear a mask?

i try to

how do you like your shower water?

literally as hot as I can get it

is there dishes in your room?

besides my coffee cup not really

what type of music keeps you grounded?

video game sound tracks. Right now it's mostly outer wilds and in stars and time

do you have a favorite towel?

yeah there's a light pink towel I have that's really fucking big like bigger than a normal towel and it's just nice I enjoy it

the last adventure you’ve been on?

suddenly i cannot remember. I mean unless you count me just going to walmart to get my groceries?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

where do i even begin uh . there's an in stars and time song I know by heart at this point, Starlight Brigade, A Human's Touch, Half-Decade Hangover, probably like 50% of MCR's and Greenday's discography tbh, and a Lot of Icon for Hire's songs too

what’s your timezone?

MST

how many times have you changed your url?

I think once or twice? I don't know if my Original url was xxfireblaze618xx or just fireblaze618, but depending on which it was it's either just one or two times. I don't ever change my url

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

I haven't known Anyone in my life for more than 8 years just yet, but the person I've known the longest is probably skye who's one of my best friends

a soap bar that smells good?

i don't use bar soap soo

do you use lip balm?

rarely when my lips get extra chapped or smth

did you have any snacks today?

a brownie. would've had chips too but the store was out of french onion dip and I was craving it with my chips so bad

how do you take your coffee?

2 cream 2 sugar

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

discord and my nanogram/picross game

what’s your take on spicy foods?

i like it occasionally but i can't really handle spice well

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

trump

can you remember what happened yesterday?

i watched one of jello apocalypse' in stars and time vod and then joined a discord call to watch one of my friends play isat. I'm totally normal guys /silly

favorite holiday film?

right now either polar express or nightmare before christmas

what was the last message you sent?

"i got my prior authorization approved to get my testosterone tomorrow i just don't wanna deal with waiting around for an hour to leave since i already got my groceries today" - to my roommate

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

i think when I was 16 ? My parents let me have like one cider a year after I turned 16 since it was a controlled/safe environment

can you skip rocks?

yes but not well

can i tag you in random stuff?

please do my friends and i already tag each other in things so hdfkjh

#ask fire #ask game #:D #this took a lot longer than i expected to answer lmaoo #but ty!

0 notes

thedreadvampy · 2 years ago

Text

therapy thoughts from yesterday include: it is wild how we treat kids about sleep. it really is.

and after years of being told if I couldn't overcome my tiredness I'd never succeed like. I have never in my Office Job Having Full Time Employed adulthood had to get up as consistently early as I did when I was at school, at the age when statistically you need the most sleep for your health.

like I have for sure been lucky with line managers who are willing to give me a bit of leeway on coming in at 9:30 or 10 rather than 9 sharp but when I was a teenager I needed to be on the bus by the time I usually wake up as an adult. and teenagers in general like, the adolescent brain needs more sleep, studies suggest that most teenagers aren't really absorbing information properly before 11am.

also I don't think I've ever heard someone really reflect back the sense of injustice I felt about being constantly talked down for sleeping in until my therapist got really angry on my behalf last night. like. when I was 16-17 I had really severe fatigue problems (my therapist pointed at my trauma timeline at this point and was like gee I wonder why. I'm like shhhh yeah fair.), I would uncontrollably fall asleep in class and missed like 60% of school from sleeping in and I was frequently sleeping 14-18 hours a day. and it was so totally out of my control like I tried going to bed earlier but I just wouldn't sleep. the only way I could guarantee being awake for school was to not sleep. being awake when I was tired made me so sick and miserable and unable to think.

and people kept telling me well just get up! and treating it as a behavioural issue. but I was straight up blacking out for 16 hours and it's like. how are you going to hold me responsible for being asleep I AM LITERALLY NOT THERE. I'M NOT PRESENT. I DO NOT CONSCIOUSLY CONTROL MY BODY WHEN I'M ASLEEP THAT'S WHAT SLEEP IS.

(and also I have a thing I call Tired Ruth which happens when I'm really exhausted, which is a bit of my subconscious brain that takes over with the intent of keeping me asleep. Tired Ruth is sentient and intelligent but keeps me totally out of the loop, I don't remember anything when I wake up but people tell me I do all sorts of clearly intentional things to protect my sleep - I make considered excuses, lie, play dead, throw verbal abuse, go and pick up my duvet if someone takes it off me...the other day when I had Exhaustion Sleep at some point Tired Ruth checked my calendar for the day and ensured I wouldn't be missed at work. I don't remember doing most of this and occasionally while I am aware of it happening I can't like. exert control over it.

and so like these are things I am doing, but they're not things I can predict or control. they happen when the bit of me that is usually in control is asleep.

and I told my therapist this and she was like oh my god I love Tired Ruth. I'm so glad part of you is about serving your own basic needs without worrying about everyone else first.)

#red said

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ssahotstuff · 2 years ago

Text

Lie To Me

An Aaron Hotchner x Reader series

Aaron Hotchner/Ozark Crossover

Part 16

Part 15 can be found here

Warnings: 4.2 k

Word count: smut, crime, alcohol, cursing, violence--oral, f&m receiving, face sitting, choking, masturbation, if I missed anything let me know

Aaron

I had been gone for three days, much to my displeasure, but Marty had finally sorted things out. All we had to do was get Luis Hector to America to make a deal, and I'd be on the fast track to retirement. It was Tuesday morning when we finally boarded the plane, and I sent Y/n a quick text to let her know I'd be back as soon as possible. Marty looked at me curiously, his eyebrow raised.

"Going to announce your retirement and engagement all in one night?"

"Who's engaged?" Luis asked, and Marty pointed to me. Luis reached over and shook my hand, congratulating me.

"Marriage is a beautiful thing. Cherish her always," Luis said, and I promised that I would as we took off, mere hours separating me and the woman I loved.

I let Marty and Luis handle business with my director while I was off to find my girl. I went home to take a shower and change, but her car wasn't home, so my next stop was the Blue Cat to get something to eat and see my fiancée.

I came in the restaurant behind a group, so she didn't see me at first. Charlotte nudged her shoulder and nodded towards the door where I was standing, and she came forward, wrapping her arms around me as tight as she could.

"Don't ever leave me again," she pleaded, and I kissed her before letting her know that it was over, that we could finally move on with our lives and things could go back to normal.

"We found someone to run the cartel. They're making a deal now. This should all be over today."

She nodded, dragging me towards the bar so she could put in my order and talk to me at the same time.

"The contractor called me. They poured the foundation today. They'll start laying the brick once everything is set," she seemed so excited, and I couldn't wait to have our first home together, something we'd poured our hearts into together coming to life before our eyes.

"We'll still give Jonah a room right? He'll be able to go home soon, but I still want him to know he's welcome at our house too," I told her, and her eyes crinkled up as she smiled back at me.

"Duh. It's in the blueprints," she reminded me, handing me a beer as she cleaned up behind the bar. There was one other table of customers but Tuesday was a slower day; she was leaving at five so Charlotte could make some cash and close things up for the night. Now that she had a car of her own, it was much easier for them to split up responsibility at the Blue Cat. Y/n was planning to let Charlotte manage the place when she cut back her hours, and I thought it was a terrific idea. We'd talked about it right before Charlotte turned 18, and I told her that I thought she was making the right decision--she'd be able to cut back on working now that she was taking the casino over, and I was glad. I'd get to spend more time with her after I retired, which is all I'd wanted to begin with.

"I'll be home in a few hours. Why don't you go get some sleep in our bed?" She suggested, leaning across the bar to kiss my cheek, running her hand through my hair.

"Will you wake me up when you get home?"

She promised she would, so I left her to finish her day and I crawled in bed at her house, thinking of the future, when we'd finally live under one roof officially.

✨✨✨

It was an internal conflict, choosing to continue letting him sleep peacefully or waking him up, but you'd promised to wake him, so you kissed his face lightly until you heard the familiar sound of him chuckling at you, blindly pulling you on top of him.

"I missed you so much," he mumbled groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he looked at you, your chest pressed against his.

"I'm so glad you're home. The only person I've told is Charlotte," you said softly, and he nodded, telling you that Marty knew and he was happy for the two of you.

"He suggested an engagement party, maybe this weekend when he officially gives you the casino. He wants you to cut the ribbon and everything, Wendy has a vision," he rolled his eyes, knowing that Wendy would want to make a spectacle of everything to make herself and her new business look better. A casino and a Family Foundation didn't exactly go hand in hand.

"Sounds like Charlotte and I need to go shopping," you giggled, and he raised a brow before asking if he could go too.

"Duh, you're always invited. I just didn't think a day of shopping would be something you enjoyed," you told him, but he shook his head and told you otherwise.

"If it means getting to spend time with you, I'll go anywhere you want me to."

He kissed your neck lightly, bringing his hands to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze before he brought his mouth to yours. You'd missed kissing him, and now that he was finally home and you could touch him all you wanted, you felt the need to give him as much satisfaction as possible. You climbed between his legs, watching him prop up on the pillows behind him as you pulled his boxers down and freed his cock from the confines of his underwear. He was stiff and throbbing as you took his member in your hands, letting the saliva in your mouth coat him entirely before you pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock, watching his brows pull together tightly as you took him in your mouth.

"Fuck, baby. I've missed your sweet little mouth so much," he cooed as his hand rooted in your hair, gathering it in his hands as you took him further, opening your mouth wider so you could take all of him. You let your tongue lay flat against him so he could enter your throat and you could work the rest of his length with your hand, slippery and wet as you ghosted around the base of his cock, making him groan and close his eyes, his head against the pillows. It wasn't often that he was so overwhelmed that he had to just lay back and let you please him; he was usually watching, wide eyed. Now, he looked more at peace than you'd ever seen him, but his job was over and he could officially unwind for good.

"Your mouth is driving me crazy, baby. I've never felt anything so good," it came out as a whisper while you sucked furiously, bobbing and gagging on him until tears were hot and wet on your cheeks. You didn't stop until you felt the sticky release of his orgasm hit the back of your throat, his hands falling from your hair as his legs shook against the mattress. You came to straddle him, still fully clothed against him as he sat up, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He sucked lightly at your sensitive skin, his hands tugging your shirt off and tossing it to the floor.

"Stand up, I want to get you undressed," he said, letting you stand so he could finish taking off your clothes. Your bra came first, his mouth couldn't help but swirl around your nipples as he leaned further down, kissing your stomach. When he reached your waist line, he continued peppering kisses all over your body until he had your pants and panties crumpled in a pile on the floor. He brought your hand to his chest so you could feel his heart, drumming rapidly in his chest as he looked at your naked body.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he breathed, instructing you to lay down on the bed. He sat between your legs, his eyes trained on your core.

"Give me your hand," he whispered, so you did as he asked, bringing your hand to your sex. You knew what he wanted immediately, bringing your free hand down to your pussy so you could spread yourself open for him, your fingertip barely brushing your clit.

"So gentle," he cooed, laying down between your thighs so he could watch you, on full display for him. You went agonizingly slow, circling your throbbing clit as he watched in awe, his fingertips pressed into the doughy flesh of your thighs, his grip possessive on you. His eyes were nearly black as you lightly swiped at your bundle of nerves, a whimper escaping your lips.

"That's it baby, I want to see you cum; I won't touch you until you can give yourself an orgasm," he told you, making you giggle--he'd never made rules before, but you liked that he was now; it showed a bossier side of him that you were excited to explore once he felt more comfortable being in charge of you. He was already really good at getting you to do whatever he wanted, you didn't need to be told, but the thrill of ordering you around was something you thought he'd get some pleasure out of too.

"So close," you told him, speeding up slightly, your fingers drenched as you began to ride out your high; the wave of euphoria hit you like a ton of bricks, making you melt into the sheets. Aaron gave you no time to recover before he was leaning forward and diving into your center, eagerly lapping at you. His hand found yours, his finger tracing the ring on your finger as he smiled to himself; this is what he'd been waiting for. He wanted to give himself to you completely now that you were going to be his bride.

"Oh baby, I hope you're ready," he said lowly, making every hair on your body stand up at his seductive tone. There was no way to prepare for the way he made you feel--for hours, he laid between your legs, and you'd lost count at the amount of orgasms he'd given you. He was insatiable, using his tongue, his fingers, the gentle pressure of his lips; he truly had marked you as his own. His hand clasped in yours the entire time, he made you feel something more than just indescribable pleasure—it was more love than you could put into words, and it was all for you. He'd chosen you to be his wife, to build a life with, and you couldn't wait.

"C'mere, Aaron," you half begged, and he stopped long enough to peer up at you and shake his head.

"One more, please?"

When you finally had him where you wanted him, which was flat on his back, you mounted his lap, taking your time sinking onto him. You watched him clench his teeth as you let him adjust to being inside of you before you started to bounce up and down on him, flesh slapping flesh echoing throughout the room as you shared your desire for one another. His absence had been noticed by everyone around, but especially you. He was the person you went to after a long day, the man who kept you safe and made sure you always had someone to lean on.

"Love when you ride me, baby. Use me," he rasped, and so you did. You brought yourself a number of orgasms before he even began to get close to his, letting you take your time; he was perfectly content letting you ride him until your legs were sore, and then he'd take over and help you until you were ready again. You sat up on your knees and let him pound into you from below, gripping his shoulders for support as he fucked your brains out. When he was like this, he was as greedy as possible, rough and passionate—it was mind bending in an entirely different way than usual. You could feel the lust, the longing behind each stroke of his cock inside of you. When he came, he drug you down his length so he could bury himself inside of you, pulling you to meet his lips.

"Promise me you'll always love me," he urged, and you nodded profusely.

"Always, baby."

✨✨✨

Aaron's paperwork had been filed for retirement, so he'd been spending a lot of time with Jonah at the property, overseeing construction. It was amazing watching your dreams come to life from the ground up. Whenever you were having a hard day, Aaron would take you there to see the progress. It always helped to cheer you up knowing there was so much more to look forward to. In a day's time, Marty would be giving you the casino; there was a grand party to be thrown on the riverboat, all to celebrate you and Aaron taking over.

You were currently in the passenger's seat of Aaron's car as he drove you and Charlotte to the city to find dresses to wear. You wanted to look your best since it was a big night for you and Aaron, and he was just as excited to celebrate it as you were.

"What color are you thinking? So I can match you," he added quickly, making you take his hand across the console. You were almost to the mall, and Charlotte had found several prospective stores to try out.

"It all just depends on what I find," you told him, and Charlotte chimed in from the backseat.

"You did black last time. Why don't you do red?" Red would certainly make a bold statement, and Aaron had plenty of red ties.

"Red would be pretty," Aaron agreed, so when you were in the store, you searched high and low for a red dress until you finally found one. It was gorgeous, with a split in the side and billowy sleeves, long and flowing. Charlotte took one look at you and it had her vote, and you could tell by Aaron's tensed up body and lengthy gaze at your legs that he liked it too. You asked him what he thought about it anyway, and he waited until Charlotte went back into her dressing room to answer, placing your hand over his crotch.

"I think it's perfect," he groaned, leaving you to change back into your clothes. When you got to the register, Aaron paid for your dress and Charlotte's, not giving either of you a chance to argue.

"I'm paying for lunch too, so don't try anything funny," Aaron warned as you walked to the car.

When you got to the restaurant, Charlotte was full of questions, specifically about the wedding.

"When do you guys plan on getting married?" She asked from behind her menu, making you and Aaron stop and look at each other.

"We haven't even made it that far. Do you want a wedding?" You asked him, your voice neutral because you didn't mind either way--you'd elope with him if it meant being his wife.

"I want whatever you want. We could always do something small, I don't really have a whole lot of family that'll travel to the Ozarks for a wedding," he told you, and you didn't either, so your wedding would be private and intimate, something you thought was pretty special. A handful of people and the man that you loved, all gathered together to celebrate your unity.

"I'd be happy if it was just us and the kids. Marty would come, I'm sure," you replied, so all you had to figure out was a location and a date.

"We could wait until the house is finished. We could do it there," Aaron suggested, and you'd be more than happy to wait on the house; half of it was up already, and the rest would be finished soon. Once the house was built, things like plumbing and electricity came next, so you'd still be waiting a few months.

"Good idea! You need a dress," Charlotte said, her eyes going wide as she helped you make plans for your wedding. Aaron loved it, chiming in when he could, giving you his opinion on things. You were glad he didn't feel uncomfortable around you and your friends, and that he could hang out with them and it wasn't awkward or tense.

"When the house is built, we can have a housewarming party and a reception all in one," you suggested, and Aaron liked the idea a lot. He even talked about inviting one of his closer friends from back in Virginia so he could meet you and see the life he'd built away from home. The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging. You made it back home, Charlotte going to her room and you and Aaron in yours. He hung your dress up and invited you across the street to help him pick something to wear. You didn't realize how packed his closet was until he opened it up and you saw the endless row of suits and dress shirts, some with the tag still on them. You spied a charcoal gray dress shirt that was brand new, snatching it out of the closet and handing it to him.

"This one," you told him, and then he decided he wasn't wearing a tie, so your work was done. You knew he had ulterior motives for bringing you over which were only confirmed when his hands met the small of your back and pulled you forward so your mouths could clash together. He led you to the bed by your belt loops, unbuttoning your pants so you could slide of them; he smacked your ass lightly as you stripped down for him; he made quick work of his own clothes, reduced to his underwear in seconds.

"Gorgeous girl, come here," he pulled you into his lap, letting you feel the bulge in his boxers, pulsing against his thigh. You sat on his lap, just kissing for a bit, his mouth feverish against yours. Lately since he'd not been working, he'd been so into you it was hard to peel yourself away from him. You were quickly learning that his love language was physical touch--he constantly had his hands on you. Whether it was like this, or his hand on your thigh while you were driving, or on your knee when you were eating, he was always making it a point to be touching you. You were taken aback that the expressionless man you met so many months ago had turned into a grinning fool, so smitten for you that he'd melted.

"I love it when you touch me, I just love being able to put my hands on you," you told him, kissing his neck, your nails grazing his chest and abdomen, tight and solid beneath you. He had such a nice body, toned in all of the right places, so fucking strong and sexy that it made you weak. You couldn't help yourself, you wanted him in your mouth, and he knew by the crazed look in your eye that you'd be gagging on him as soon as you'd removed his boxers. He propped up on a pillow, putting his arms behind his head so he could watch the show you were about to put on for him.

"Going to be a good girl and put my cock in your throat, sweetheart?"

You nodded, licking a stripe of the center of his cock, watching his eyes grow dark as he looked back at you.

"Been thinking about having you in my mouth all day," you shot back, taking him by surprise--the shock was evident on his face as he sat up, cupping your face with his hands.

"You honestly enjoy it?"

You nodded, swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock.

"I love it so much, baby. I love the way you react, the way you feel when you're in my mouth," you purred, making him brush your hair back as he gazed down adoringly at you.

"Fuck--that must be why it feels so good--you know, before you, I'd never...no one has ever done that for me," he said sheepishly, averting his gaze everywhere except your face. That only made you put his cock directly in your throat, making him hiss and grab your hair, tugging lightly.

"I'm so glad I'm the only one," you choked as you let all of your inhibitions go and focused on giving him the sloppiest, most sensual blow job of his life. In a matter of minutes, you had his legs shaking, his grip tight on your hair as he guided you up and down on his cock, letting your saliva coat his member so he could slip in and out of your mouth easier. His hips started to move on their own, thrusting slightly into your mouth as you held your head still so he could fuck your mouth; you enjoyed it a hundred times more now that you knew he'd never done it with anyone else before.

"Goddamn, baby. Feels incredible, please, please don't stop," he begged, your mouth open wide so he could push past your lips and into the back of your throat, his eyes squeezed shut tight as he tried to keep his composure. In no time you felt the salty liquid fill your mouth, swallowing every last drop as you batted your lashes up at him.

"I love you, Aaron," you said softly, coming to lay next to him as he tried to steady his breathing.

"God, I love you, baby. You know, there are a lot of things I want to try with you...I should make a list," he joked, but you told him that wasn't a bad idea--you wanted to try things too, things you'd never tell anyone else for fear of judgement, but you knew Aaron would never judge you.

"What's at the top of your list?" You asked, and he thought for a moment before exhaling deeply, closing his eyes.

"Having you sit on my face. It would be amazing, your thighs wrapped around my head, not to mention the perfect view of you," you were turned on just from his words alone--it would be something new for you too, and it was also on your list.

"Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you?" He looked at you wildly before shaking his head, eyeing you up and down before he patted his chest.

"You'd sit right here, that way you're completely spread open for me. You know--we could always try it out right now," he said, scooting down on the pillows so you had room.

"Are you sure?" You were already naked, all you'd have to do was sit down on him and let him do the rest.

"Do you want me to beg, baby? I will," he cooed, smiling as you sat on your knees, bringing them on either side of his head. You hovered over him until his hands brought you down, sitting you directly on his chest like he'd shown you before.

"See? You're not going to hurt me--I've wanted this for so long, baby," his tongue met your center, swirling around inside of you, making you grip the headboard for support. He made a hum of satisfaction as he explored your core with his tongue, tracing patterns on your clit, his arms hooked behind your thighs.

"Feels so good," you squeaked, and he nodded, looking up at you.

"Thank you for trusting me, baby," he said softly, kissing your clit gently, making your brain go white hot as you begged him to do it again. A few more kisses and you were trembling on top of him, barely able to stay upright as you came. He looked more than pleased with himself, squeezing your thighs gently as he pulled you further into him. You tossed your head back, grinding into him as he encouraged you further, his hands on your ass, urging you to move against him. You rolled your hips to meet his mouth, earning a groan out of him in response as he sucked at your clit with a ferocity you'd never seen before.

"I love having my tongue inside of you, gorgeous girl," he mumbled into you, barely coming up for air--he was a man possessed and you weren't going to stop him.

"I'm glad you talked me into this," you told him, your hands weaved into his hair as he brought you more than pleasure--this was something else entirely. It was pure bliss every time you came undone under the mercy of his tongue.

"I would do anything in the world to make you feel good, baby," he promised you, and suddenly you felt empty, craving him inside of you. You slid down his chest, mounting his lap as he lined up with you. You let out a moan as he bottomed out inside of you, each time more wholesome than the last. It was still hard to believe that you'd get to have him forever, be the person he depended on to make his days a little brighter. You leaned forward and kissed him hard, his hands on your sides as you started to grind your hips against him.

"I can't wait to marry you," you said, kissing him once more before you moved to his neck, sucking tenderly at the skin just below his ear. He shuddered as you raked your nails along his shoulder blades, his thrusts meeting your hips below you as he helped out.

"Going to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as I can," he promised as he sat up, letting you hook your arms around his neck so you could bounce on him with ease. He looked at you questionably as he brought his hand to your throat, eyeing you curiously. You took it a step further and placed his hand around your neck, encouraging him to squeeze. He did, and you whimpered, in love with the new sensation, the power that it gave to him.

"Fuck, you like that?" He questioned as he gripped tighter, making you see stars as you came hard, his grip loosening as you found your high.

"That's so fucking sexy," you all but begged him to do it again, his massive hand making your neck look tiny as his fingertips gently squeezed around you, making you bite your lip harshly. You continued to ride him, the pressure increasing slightly until you were hurdling over the edge, and then he'd stop and give you a break. Playing around with new things was proving to be more fun than you could've imagined, and you wondered what else he had in store for you.

"I never thought I'd like it but--I think I was wrong," he whispered, letting you bring him to his climax as you bounced furiously, only stopping once he'd came deep inside of you.

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to this," he chuckled, his arms wrapping securely around your waist. He was still throbbing inside of you, but you didn't want to move yet--it felt too good, and honestly, you were comfortable. There was no better position to be in than having him fitted neatly inside of you.

"I know I won't," you replied, kissing his neck and shoulders. You rested your head on his shoulder, excited for the days to come and what the future might hold for you and Aaron.

Master tags: @wheelsupkels @hausofwhores @criminallyobsessedcm @tojithesourcerkiller @fireworksinthesky

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner x reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #aaron hotchner x reader #jason bateman ozark #Ozark

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