#let it bleed: part three
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tardis--dreams · 1 year ago
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Girl you gotta write your term paper and not cry about your poor life choices
#tw eating issues#seriously idk how much detail I'll go into but i had a full blown relapse of my eating disorder i thought I had overcome and i gotta cry#about it now so you've been warned#i didn't think it could get this bad again#I've been having ups and downs over the past 4 years and I've definitely had phases where i felt like I've relapsed more or less#but it was never as bad as it used to be#so now this is annoying#i avoided thinking about it the past few weeks telling myself it was fine even though i knew what I'm doing is stupid as hell#but yeah i guess crying about it isn't gonna solve anything either. i know exactly what helped me overcome it in the first place#and i know exactly why i couldn't get over it for so long. and unfortunately I'm currently in exactly that state of mind that doesn't want#to let me let go of it. i hate it. i hate myself for letting it come to this. i hate myself for everything I've done the past few weeks#i hate that i don't know what to do because one part of me just clings on to the obsession while the other part of me is just tired of my#shit. i don't know how to get myself out of it. it all might get better once I'm back home because food won't be as much of a problem there#I'm torn between not eating anything at all or obsessively calculating my calories and trying to get rid of every single one i consume by#running until my feet are bleeding and i just. don't. know. how. to. stop. it.#maybe deleting the three new food and exercise diary apps would be a start... but how do i delete these dumb arbitrary rules from my head#idk. i can't go home because of this obviously. i won't. but i don't want my remaining 3 months be consumed by obsessive thoughts and#self destructive behaviors either. i don't know#it's my fault so idk why I'm crying- i could at least wait until my term paper is done lmao#wasting precious time here#void screams#tbd probably
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cuteniarose · 14 days ago
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Me: *creates an OC*
Me: *heavily implies OC will meet a bad fate*
OC: *meets bad fate*
Me:
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(Alternatively, I may have started it, but @katkastrofa enabled me and now I’m losing my mind)
#Kat and Nia and their multiverse of madness#first rule of interacting with Nia: don’t suggest a dark/whumpy/extremely angsty concept to them#they’ll take it and run a marathon with it and next thing you know their own ideas are making them cry#this is just what happens when I start developing an OC during a rough time in my life#happens every time. guess who came up with Summiya’s fall from grace after their college application fell through??#and since Summiya has a more or less completed storyline. it’s now someone else’s turn#namely Jia’s. also Sunat’s but. mostly Jia’s. Sunat is more angst than whump and I’m craving PAIN#I’ve been frothing at the mouth thinking about Jia all day#just.. imagine how terrified she must have been when she was brought before Jusamah. when he said that he’d make her talk one way or another#and if she doesn’t want to obey and confess willingly… something else can be arranged#how her fear got even worse when she was dragged into the palace dungeons. when she saw the whipping post#begging for mercy as she was stripped and tied. swearing on her life that she doesn’t know anything. that she’s innocent#rambling incoherently right up until the first hit lands. after that it’s just screams and sobs and barely audible ‘I don’t know’s#all the while she’s yelled at by a man three times her age who refuses to believe that she truly doesn’t know anything#and she doesn’t. all she did was point Aiza in a direction. she has no proof she even went in it#I don’t want to get to graphic here but let’s just say I read an article on whipping and it’s.. it’s bad#the aftermath is brutal and bloody and passing out from the pain would be a mercy#and afterwards… I do think someone is called to tend to her so she doesn’t bleed to death before they can get a confession out of her#and that person is kind. if a little detached emotionally. and likely her back could have been salvaged if the whipping didn’t repeat#but it did. because they need her to confess. maybe the excruciating pain of reopened wounds will get her to talk…#it doesn’t. she never says anything. and after a while they move on from torture to locking her up and starving her#maybe that’ll finally break her. perhaps she’s still whipped occasionally even afterwards but for the most part she’s just left alone-#in some dark cell and questioned occasionally. it lasts anywhere from weeks to months and yet she never gives out the one detail she knows#because Aiza’s safety depends on it and she knows Aiza’s punishment will be much worse than hers if she’s caught#but anyway. enough of the bloody horror show. instead think about what it must’ve been like for her parents#the town is alight with scandal following the disappearance of Lady Aiza. you know a bit about her since your daughter works for her#you don’t hear from your daughter for a while. eventually someone tells you that she’s been convicted of helping Lady Aiza run away#she’s been under interrogation since. no one’s seen her but rumour has it they’re torturing her. there’s little you can do as a poor family#you request an audience with Lord Jusamah. it takes a long time to to be granted but eventually you’re before him begging for your daughter#apparently she’s proven to be a useless waste of resources so she’s released to you. you barely recognise her. AND I REACHED TAG LIMIT FML
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neverendingford · 11 months ago
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.
#tag talk#I made three new earrings. I've wanted to turn pennies into earrings for a while and I bought a small grinder wheel attachment last month#and I finally felt like making them. two are a silver wire pair for my sister and one is a blackened wire single for me#I refuse to give presents exactly on Christmas but I'm going down there because I care about my sister even if I don't about my parents#and she cares a lot about Christmas so I'm glad I made her something. she's one of the only people I feel comfortable giving gifts to tbh#anyway I'm not posting pictures because I don't feel like it and idk. I don't feel like posting on tumblr for real.#but I still wanna say the words into the void yaknow?#first new earring design I've made since march/april since my lantern earring#I've had even more people asking whether I sell them and like. no I don't. I don't want to make them for people I don't know or care about#I'm not about to mass produce my passion projects that help me express my identity. that would be honestly really fucked up.#like. yeah this lantern design I thought of while sitting next to a nice trans girl who made me feel okay to be myself.#let me just make fifty of it. this earring that I created at my point of recovering from almost bleeding to death. let me mass produce it#this shell earring that I made sitting with my boyfriend in the park on a windy october day. let me make it until I hate it.#this spiral shell earring that I made from a shell my cousin found while we wandered the wash the year he stayed for three whole months#no. everything is memories. everything is a part of me. everything I make because I love it. if I don't love it I throw it away.#I'm not going to mass produce these. I'm not going to sell them online for fucking... for fucking money.#like.. what should I do? be like “yeah I sat down and made some art for an hour. pay me some cash for it. that feels disgusting to me.#anyway. I made some new earrings and I'm glad because now I've got a good gift for a sibling that genuinely cares. and also for myself#cause I was getting a bit bored of the earrings I've got. I needed a new one for a while
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tojisun · 3 months ago
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no matter how hard you try, you just can’t make yourself cum tonight.
the position is wrong, your toy is still dead as hell so you had to resort to using your fingers, but those aren’t hitting somewhere deep and scratching that itch you have of wanting to be filled, and it has you crying in frustration.
god, you just wanted to fuck yourself into a good orgasm once. but your fingers are starting to feel numb, and your arm is cramping up, and you feel annoyingly sore already. you know you should call it quits; that you should just douse the flames of your desire with a cold shower and just retire for the night, but you are so, so stubborn and angry and—
you snarl, ripping your fingers out of your cunt before twisting to snatch your phone from where you’d flung it close to the wall. you use your clean hand, wiping the other one on your bedsheets—you might have to wash them tonight, anyway—and sends a message to johnny.
cant cum <
fuck me pls <
you drop your phone to your stomach, hearing yourself heave as your body catches up to the exhaustion. you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the blazing heat and the soreness and the emptiness, and focusing instead on the little spark of need that you refuse to extinguish because you know johnny. you know he’d reply soon.
(he’s always fucked you good; filled you up with slurring words crooned to your ears, his big hands stretching across your stomach because he swears underneath all this skin and fat, he feels his cock fucking in, in, in.
he loves taunting you when your quiet tears turn into soft sobs—ye gonna cum soon, bon? show me yer cummin’ face, huh? c’mon bon.
he is so, so mean, and you need nothing less right now.)
true to your thoughts, your phone buzzes two minutes later. you pick it back up, grunting in confusion when instead of johnny’s name, you see john’s.
is he alright? did he need something from you? god, you think he’d let you do it tomorrow or at least in a couple of hours?
you tap at the notification, only to feel the curiosity bleed out of you to be replaced with startling horror. it’s like ice water was dumped on you, extinguishing every embers of your libido because there, on your screen, was john. replying to your message.
you had—
> quite forward of you. well, since you asked so nicely, we’re on our way.
you had sent the message to—
three knocks—taptap-tap—suddenly thud on your door. you gasp, looking up from your phone to stare at your locked door, dreadful.
you sent it to the damn group chat.
-
part 02
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niennanir · 1 year ago
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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writers-potion · 6 months ago
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Let's Talk About Pacing Our Fight Scenes.
For Fast-Paced Parts:
Short words with single syllables. Immediately > at once/ endeavour > try/ indicate > point at/ investigate > check out.
Short sentences, the shorter the better.
Partial sentences to blaze through multiple senses and actions within a few lines.
Short paragraphs
Lots of verbs.
Few adjectives and adverbs.
Cut down on -ing form of verbs, as it can make words longer
Use simple past tense
Avoid conjunctions and link words.
Avoid internal thought - your characters are irrational, ruthless and in the flow of pure action.
For Slow-Paced Parts:
Use medium/long sentences
the paragraphs are longer: three lines minimum
Include longer words with more syllables
Use adjectives and maybe a couple of adverbs.
Insert the thoughts of the PoV character.
Words for Action Scenes
act, alter, attack, avert, back, block, bang, bash, battle, beat, beg, belt, bend, best, bite, blacken, bleed, blind, blister, blow, blunt, boil, bolt, boot, bore, bow, box, brace, brag, brash, brawl, break, breathe, brush, buck, bulgde, burn, burst, cackle, call, can, carry, cart, carve, catch, check, chop, chuck, clack, clank, clap, clash, claw, clear, cleave, click, cliff, cling, clip, close, club, cock, coil, cold, collar, come, con, connect, corner, cost, count, counter, cover, cower, crack, crackle, cram, crash, crawl, creep, crinkle, cross, crouch, rush, cry, cuff, cull, cup, curl, curse, curve, cusp, cut, dart, dash, deepen, dig, deep, dip, ditch, drive, drop, duck, dump, ede, effect, erect, escape, exert, expect, feint, fight, fire fist, fit, flag, flare, flash, flick, fling, flip, flock, force, gash, gasp, get, gore, grab, grasp, grip, grope, group, hack, harden, heat, help, hit, hop, hurl, hurry, impale, jab, jar, jerk, join, jolt, jump, keep, kick, kill, knee, knock, knot, knuckle, leak, leap, let, lever, lick, lift, lock, loop, lop, plunge, mask, nick, nip, open, oppose, pace, pack, pain, pair, pale, palm, pan, pant, parry, part, pass, paste, pat, peak, peck, pelt, pick, pierce, pile, ping, piss, pit, pivot, plot, pluck, plug, plunge, ply, point, pool, pop, pose, pot, pound, pour, powder, pray, preen, prepare, prey, prick, prickle, print, probe, pry, pull, pulp, pulse, pump, punch, pursue, push, quarry, quarter, quest, race, raise, rake, ram, rap, rasp, rear, retreat, rip, riposte, rivert, roar, rock, roll, rope, round, rouse, run, rush, sap, scale, scalp, scan, score,scream, seek, seep, shake, shape, sharpen, shock, shoot, shop, slap, slap, slash, slice, slick, slip, slit, smash, snap, snare, snatch, snipe, sock, space, spar, spark, speed, spike, spill, spin, spit, splash, spoil, spring, spur, spurt, spy, squirm, stand, steert, step, stick, strap, strike, stuff, suck, support, swat, sweat, sweep, swingm tack, tag, take, target, taste, team, tear, tent, test, thrash, throw, thrust, thud, tick, tide, tilt, time, tire, top, toss, tower, toy, trap, trick, trigger, trip, triumph, trouble, trump, try, tuck, tug, twril, twitch, weaken, wet, whip, whirl, whirr, whoop, whoosh, whop, work, zap, zip.
If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸
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swordsandholly · 4 months ago
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
cw: menstruation (not graphic), afab anatomy
Part 4: “Girl Problems”
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You shift in the office chair, stomach lurching uncomfortably. It’s been bothering you today - groaning and moaning nonstop. So far you blamed it on the suspicious chicken salad you got from the discount grocery store. You took every stomach soother you could, all the way down to chugging tea on the hottest day of spring so far.
With a rather pathetic groan you stand to meander your way to the bathroom. Surely sitting on the pot will help - at least as a placebo. Just as you do, though, a very distinct wet feeling makes itself known. You freeze, briefly, as if it will go away if you stand still enough.
“Ah, fuck!” You gasp, grabbing your purse and jogging down the hall to the single bath stall and popping the lock shut.
As soon as you sit, you let out a small sigh of relief. At least you caught it before you turned your underwear into a total crime scene. You’d rather not have to explain to John why you need to go home and change. You dig through your bag to your usual pocket of various supplies. From lotion to a sewing kit. It never hurts to be prepared.
Except, as you rifle around, you’re not finding your usual stash. There should be at least three in here… when did-?
The very loud, distinct memory of a girl at a bar stopping you while canvassing for some sanitary products hits you like a train.
“Whatever you’ve got I’ll take.” She practically begged. So, you handed them all over because got forbid someone get stranded during the most hellish week of the month. Like you are now.
You make a deep, frustrated noise in your throat and bury your face in your hands. You’ve been meaning to put a basket of backup wipes, pads, and tampons in the little bathroom cabinet - not just for you but for customers, too. It just kept getting pushed off when you got busy with other things.
Shit. What are you gonna do? If you put your pants back on you’ll just bleed through them in ten minutes. Cursed with a heavy flow (or blessed with a strong connection to the moon, as your former hippie roommate insisted.) Less time than that, probably, based on the vicious cramp that travels from your lower back to pelvis. You won’t be able to get to the corner store with out leaving a war crime in your path.
John’s the only person in the studio right now. He doesn’t have a client for another hour or so but you’d rather die than tell your hot boss you’re bleeding everywhere. For a few, quiet moments, you violently bounce your knee and go through every possibility. Maybe you’ll suddenly turn into the flash and you can get home before anyone even notices. You don’t really have much of a choice, do you?
With another groan you pull your phone from your pocket, thumb hovering over his contact for just a few beats too long while you work up the courage.
>> ok so this is terrible
>> im so sorry
>> but im having girl problems and am stuck in the bathroom
>> im so sorry this is so unprofessional
Girl problems? What are you? In fucking middle school? Before you can send yet another in a long string of planned apologies, John answers.
J >> How can I help?
>> i dont have any products on me
>> meant to stock the bathroom
>> sorry
J >> Stop apologizing
J >> What kind do you use? I’ll go to the corner store up the street
You breathe out a sigh of relief, still nervously gnawing at your lip as you send him what you need with an example picture (just in case) and profusely insist you’ll pay him back. John refuses. You’ll just have to sneak the cash in his tips or something.
It isn’t long before you hear the front doorbell ring, heavy footsteps, then a gentle tap on the bathroom door. “Y’alright, love?”
You perk up. “John, I’m so sorry-“
“Didn’t ask if you were sorry. Asked if you were alright.”
You snort. “Yeah…”
“I’m goin’ to unlock the door to slide these in. No lookin’ I swear.” John says. As if you were worried about that. You trust John. More than maybe any other man you’ve known (not that the bar is very high.) It’s nice of him to say, though. The door barely cracks open, just enough for him to toss the box to you across the floor and shut it immediately. You barely even see his arm. “That all you need?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” You murmur, bending awkwardly and snatching up the box. “I’m really sorry. I know it’s not really… appropriate.”
“Love, it’s normal. It happens. Just get y’self situated.” John taps the door once before you hear his footsteps drift down the hall toward the front.
You feel a bit skittish the rest of the day. You know it’s stupid. John’s a grown man and it’s a natural thing that happens and it’s fine. He said it’s fine. If it wasn’t fine you probably wouldn’t still look up to him the way that you do - the way that you have since you came here. The way everyone else seems to. Even so, you step around him a little wider than usual on your way out - keeping your head hung low and both hands tightly gripping your purse.
You chew your lip, shifting in place as he locks the front door. “Look, John, I-“
“If you apologize again I’m gonna fire you.” John mutters, pulling on the door to make sure it’s properly secured. There’s humor in it, though, the corners of his lips quirked up slightly.
You scoff, still not quite able to meet his eye.
“Sweetheart, look at me.” When you don’t move fast enough, apparently, he tilts your head up with a light touch. His eyes are so warm despite their icy blue shade. Sparkly in the setting sun. “Any man worth his breath wouldn’t give a shite. I’m sorry if that hasn’t been your experience, but really, it’s fine. I’ll help you out a thousand times over if y’need.”
“Okay…” You murmur, suddenly very distracted by the feeling of his fingers touching your chin, light as is it. You pull away and clear your throat, hoping he doesn’t notice the growing heat in your cheeks. “Well, uh, see you tomorrow, then.”
John nods, still smiling. “Sleep well, dove.”
When you come in the next day, you expect to get teased. A snide comment or a sideways look. You would have at any other job you’d worked - especially one with all men. All giggling and poking at you like a bear they know can’t bite back. No one says a thing outside of their usual greetings when you make your way to the front desk, though. Johnny pinches your hip like normal, Simon greets you with his new pun of the day, Kyle gives you a distracted wave over the hum of his practice gun. John doesn’t bat an eye when he says hello and checks in about the plan for the day.
You open the bottom drawer that you usually tuck your purse into, pausing before you set it inside. At the bottom, neatly tied together with a piece of twine, sits a king size chocolate bar and a pack of Midol.
If John notices the way you become extra smiley after that discovery, he doesn’t comment.
A/N: This was very self-indulgent but I’m having a bad time over here and need to be saved.
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luveline · 6 months ago
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omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33
—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k
“This is nice.” 
You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 
“I love when guys wear rings.” 
“I had a suspicion.” 
You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 
“You okay?” he asks. 
“I can see black and white spots.” 
“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 
The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 
“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 
Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 
“It’s not?” 
“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 
“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 
“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.
“A year ago?” 
“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 
“That’s nice.” 
“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 
You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”
“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 
“Let you?” 
“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 
“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 
“Something like that.” 
You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 
“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 
You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 
“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 
That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 
“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 
Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 
Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 
“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 
“You do?” 
“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 
You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 
“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 
He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 
“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 
“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 
He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 
You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 
“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 
He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 
You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 
You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 
“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 
“We’re definitely married?” 
“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 
“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 
Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 
“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 
You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 
“You okay?” 
“I guess our second date really did go well.” 
“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 
You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 
“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 
You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.
When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 
“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.
You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 
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konigsblog · 5 months ago
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omg stepdad-price would be gorgeous👀
Stepdad-Price, that sick rapist. 🥃
TW: RAPE, INTOXICATION, STEPCEST.
What you remember from that night: the three times you were awoken.
Intoxication is 100% his thing, especially with an inexperienced reader. He will get you so drunk, that the only thing you'll remember is being awoken to the feeling of being pounded, before falling unconscious. The amount of fear that filled you for those thirty seconds that you were awake traumatised you. You're not sure whether it was a sick nightmare, or if it really happened, but you don't want to ask. You're afraid that if you ask, he'll look at you differently.
All you remember is the face of a man, a brunette beard, awfully similar to the face of your stepfather. The feeling of your heart falling into your stomach left you shaken up, but with no bruises, you believed it was nothing but a horrible dream. But, it felt so vivid, you could feel it. Each thrust, the way the impact of his tip against your cervix would silence you. You remember gazing up at the familiar face through blurry vision, clouded by your tears, before fainting again. Even while your vision was black, you could feel him release, the way his load spurted into your wet, warm hole and filled you. The sensation of nausea washed over you, before becoming fully unconscious.
You remember the second time you woke up. You felt your cunt pulse and squeeze around his bulbous, thick cock and the way you felt almost split open. You could feel the fuzziness from his pubes tickle your bare skin and the way his thick, long fingers would silence you muffled cries and screams. You felt your pussy drool around his veiny shaft, coat him in your sweet fluids. The sensation of your velvety, smooth cunt clamping down onto his boner was unforgettable, especially with the way his meaty, hung dick throbbed and squelched inside of you. You could hear it - the slick and wet noises of him selfishly coming deep within your walls, the warmth between your thighs, and how mesmerising and addictive it felt with each vein grazing against your walls.
The third time you woke up, you could taste it, but feel it as well. You felt his presence tower above you, the wetness down your chin. You felt distracted by the taste of bitterness and saltiness, before the feeling of being slammed into violently took over your thoughts. It couldn't be Price fucking you, you vividly remember him looming above you and relentlessly fucking your throat until your gagged and spat up everywhere. You remember the sound of your uncle's voice, Simon. He'd always been extremely touchy, and you always wondered why your stepfather never cared. You felt the pain spread rapidly, the lengthiness of his cock making you bleed uncontrollably, while you let out pained and pitiful cries. You remember gazing down between your thighs, watching as your pussy would greedily accept Simon's boner, even when your mind was panicking. You came numerous times, that same squelching, watery, and slick noise that filled your ears.
Fuck, if it really happened, you had been creampied countless times, filled to the brim. You don't even want to imagine what the state of your pussy would look like, the aftermath of their abuse. But, a part of you isn't sure whether you want it to happen again or not.
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jaewritesfic · 3 months ago
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Melon AU Part 4
Cass is quietly adamant that her new cling-on be taken to the Batcave, no matter the concerns Bruce raises.
If he's honest, his protests fall a little flat even to his own ears. The fact of the matter is that he looks at the midnight apparition she holds and just…can't bring himself to fight very hard.
The creature clings to her like a desperate child, claws curled into her cape in a way that's bound to leave holes. Bruce hasn't caught so much as a glimpse of the face since it grabbed onto Cass, head resolutely tucked into her shoulder. That long sinuous tail is wrapped around her waist and down one leg as if the slightest disconnect could wrench them fully apart.
She was right, it's scared and it needs help.
Bruce almost thinks convincing Commissioner Gordon to lift the police barricade at the end of the alley will be the difficult part, but he's proven wrong. Gordon is more than happy to foist the situation off onto the Bat colony, it's just a matter of figuring out actual transport.
It's not that Bruce doesn't want the creature in the Batmobile. It's that nobody is sure the creature will respond well to someone other than Cass being in proximity to it.
Bruce may be feeling distinctly sympathetic, but he's still not comfortable leaving his daughter totally alone with something strange, unknown and dangerous.
He doesn't want Cass alone with it - them. They probably won't respond well to anyone but Cass being close enough to be in a car with them.
Ultimately this culminates in Bruce pulling the Batmobile around and trying to be very. Very. Quiet.
The shadow creature hasn't raised their head from Cass’s shoulder once, so hopefully as she climbs in the back with her clingy cargo they won't notice they're not alone.
…nobody is going to claim this is a good or creative plan. It's kind of just the only option they can think of.
The creature clicks and whines as she climbs in, aware and nervous about the enclosed space probably, but they don't raise their head or move.
If anything they just wind themselves around Cass a little tighter.
“Shhhh,” Cass hushes gently. “Car. Take us to safe place. I promise.”
Bruce is used to her cowl enough to be able to tell she's glancing at him in the rear view mirror.
Thankfully, the Batmobile can autopilot to the cave. His presence is solely because he refuses to leave her alone with their new…guest. That means he can sign at her.
Did you get a better look at the injuries?
She shakes her head minutely. Hm. Bruce had feared that was the answer, considering how fast the creature had plastered themselves to her.
Do they seem to be losing a lot of blood?
A tiny shrug. Not a yes, not a no. Bleeding, but not gushing. Or maybe she's not sure how much without a visual, though if it was egregious she'd feel it even with the suit.
The heat of it, the slickness.
Bruce decides the shrug is a tentative good sign.
“Let's play questions,” Cass says suddenly, hands rubbing gentle, comforting back and forth patterns against a back so dark it looks like a void. “Nothing scary. Get to know you questions.”
There's no answer, but it doesn't seem to faze her. Of course not. She's Cass.
“Will you play? Tap once yes,” she says softly, tapping the creature's back with her index finger once, “And twice for no. No is okay. You can say no.”
There's a long moment where Bruce watches them in the rear view and nothing happens. Then Cass's cowl shifts in the way that means she's smiling.
“Thank you. Pronouns first, okay? One for she-”
She taps once.
“Two for he-”
She taps twice.
“Three for- oh. Thank you. Good boy. I'm she.”
The rest of the family exposes themselves as listening, quiet murmurs and exclamations over the comms at the new knowledge that their creature considers himself male.
Bruce isn't surprised that his kids have been listening with baited breath.
“From Gotham? One for yes, two for no.”
She hums softly, going back to petting his back gently.
“Me neither at first. Home now, like the back of my hand. Can show you all the best spots. Like burgers?”
There's a long pause. Bruce suspects the creature is having a hard time believing she's talking about and proposing such casual topics.
Eventually she smiles again. “Me too. Will buy you Batburger, I promise. Nectar of the gods.”
An odd little vibration goes through her new friend, audible as well as visible. It seems almost like a weak laugh.
“....bets on shadow noodle’s favorite Batburger order?” Dick asks over comms.
Bruce purses his lips not to huff in amusement. They're almost to the cave, he'd like to stay incognito until then. He wouldn't want to alarm any shadow noodles.
Masterpost
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cupidkenji · 7 months ago
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killshot, baby
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Pairing: Aaron Hotch x Doctor!Fem!reader Cw: Fluff (for real this time), LONGING (this is literally 9k words of pure yearning idek how I did that), mentions of blood, Hotch gets shot, Jack being adorable, Jack gets injured too :(, no explicit age gap, this is just rlly cute idk it's sweet I love Hotch so much I need him Summary: When you get hired as the BAU's stand-by medic, the team leader ends up being the hardest part of your job. Disclaimer: Reader is chubby! She's always fat coded, but like usual she's not described here. Just know a chubby person was imagined when writing this <3 WC: 9k (Hotch is the love of my life I could go on about him forever) This is definitely not medically accurate, please just enjoy for the sake of the story. I LOVE HOTCH I WANNA SMOOCH HIM
As weird as it was, band aids were the thing you remembered most from your childhood. You grew up as a canvas for any sort of scrape, cut, or bruise. Any wound that made your parents feel mildly worried to utterly terrified were ones that decorated your body frequently. You never tried to assign any meaning to why you became a doctor, simply crediting it as your call to the profession - to people. If you had to, though, your consistently bruised adolescent body is the best root cause you could think of. It seemed only right that the kid who couldn’t keep her skin in tact would grow to love helping others. You liked to think that’s how you kept your head an average size. Your bosses and co-workers had raved about your abilities no matter the job you took, and after a while you had to start prioritizing keeping your humility. You had started as just a kid with bruises. 
You tended to ground yourself with those same memories in times like this. For as long as you’d worked in the hospital, you held some disdain for agents. You saw many federal ones, being so close to the HQ for divisions like Behavioral Analysis, but some locals swung by too. You’d had far too many experiences of them being snappy, demanding, and usually inconsiderate to the team of people trying to save someone. You understood the individuals you were committed to helping often got there by doing monstrous things, but demanding to talk to someone when they were bleeding out and half-conscious always forced your tongue between your teeth in an effort to stay respectful. Especially now, pushing a stretcher with 3 other workers while trying to shake off the feds trailing after him. You recognized them, Agents Rossi and Hotchner, if you remembered correctly. 
“We’ll need to talk to him immediately.” The man - Rossi, you assumed, seeing as he was going gray and had less of a charge fueling his steps - spoke quickly as the two men followed your team.
“Be here when he’s out of surgery.” You didn’t bother to look back, trying to convey your annoyance and praying they got the hint. 
“He’s killed three women and has another one hostage. We don’t have time.” The other one piped up, easily keeping pace with you.
Abandoning your previous strategy, you let your team push the man into the operating room, shutting the door behind them and whipping around to face the duo. “I understand that, sir, believe me.” You were more elevated than you would have liked, years of unease unfortunately slipping through your efforts to withhold them. “But whatever happened when you found him left him barely breathing. You can’t speak to a corpse. You’ll have your time when he’s stable. Go do your job and let me do mine.” You tensed your calves planning to turn around, but quickly felt the guilt catch up to you. “I’ll call you if he wakes up.”
“If?” 
You sighed. You hated profilers. “I’ll call you.” 
“Call the headquarters.” He was scribbling down a number on the back of a hospital business card. “Ask for Agent Hotch. We’ll be waiting.” You nodded your head once, taking the card from his hands. He started walking away as he thanked you. “We appreciate it.” Sure.
The surgery to save the man had been a trip and half. One of the bullets had internally ricocheted, and the other two were lodged next to crucial arteries. You praised your mother for giving you steady hands as you inched them out of him. It took you and your team six hours and fifteen minutes to get his heartbeat steady, you estimated he’d be knocked out all night. You should call, you thought. You had no idea how late these people worked but they were more than likely expecting to talk tonight and you didn’t know if that’d be possible. You fished the card out of your pocket, his handwriting was impressively neat for how fast he’d written the number. You heard the line ring twice before someone picked up. 
“This is Penelope Garcia with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, who am I speaking to?”
“Uh- I’m Dr. L/n down at Quantico Med. I’m looking for Agent Hotch?” Your words tilted up at the end of your sentence. The casual nature of his shortened name left a weird feeling in your mouth after you said it. “I have an update on a patient he was asking after.”
“Is this about an unsub?” 
“A what?” She lacked professionalism. You wondered briefly if he had just given you the phone number of an employee.
“I’m sorry-” she laughed slightly. “Is this about a suspect? Hotch told me someone might be calling.”
“Um - yeah it’s about a suspect. He was brought in earlier. Is Agent Hotch there? I’m sorry ma’am but I've been in an operating room for the past 6 hours and I want to go home.” You hoped she’d respect your honesty, you really didn’t have the patience to explain yourself to someone new. 
She chuckled. “I got you honey, I’ll page you over.” The line went dead for a second before the ringing resumed. Please be quick, you prayed, get me out of this fucking hospital.
“Hotchner.” His voice was rougher over the phone. You guessed the long hours started to weigh on him by this time of night. You always felt it the most around this time, too.
“Hi, sir. This is Dr. L/n from the hospital. We managed to stabilize your guy, but it’s unlikely he’ll be up before tomorrow. I know it was assumed he’d be awake tonight but it took longer to operate than expected.” Your guys put 3 bullets in him, so sorry for the inconvenience. “I’ll be here all day tomorrow. You can come by at any time and I’ll let you in.”
“Are you positive we can’t talk to him tonight? I understand the situation is difficult but this case is extremely time sensitive. I’m sure that’s not lost on you.” You cursed the man for not being more condescending in his delivery. Thinking of the poor person either trapped or dead right now due to the guy you just saved made you sick. 
“I know.” Fucking hell. “I can wake him up.” A quarter dose of adrenaline works wonders. “Be here in fifteen minutes. You won’t have much time to talk to him.”
“Thank you.” He hung up. You put your head in your hands. Just a little kid with bruises.
– 
The layout of the BAU made you envious of the workers here. You’re sure they’d dealt with atrocities beyond what the average person could stomach, but you also worked within the belly of the beast and man were those hospital hallways claustrophobic. The daylight shone beautifully through the large windows, and you asked yourself if you’d be able to cope with all the paperwork in exchange for a feel like this. There weren’t any front desks, nowhere to sign in, so you sat in one of the chairs by the door and waited to see if something would happen. You had been specifically requested to visit the building , a note signed ‘Strauss’ being left with the hospital secretary. You didn’t like being called on by a stranger, it made you nervous beyond belief. You’re sure anyone walking by assumed you were being charged with something. Sweating like a sinner in church.
“Dr. L/n?” A woman was standing near you, having completely avoided your eyesight until now. “I’m the board supervisor, Erin Strauss. Thank you for coming.” The woman was nice enough, but she seemed rigid, clearly confident in her authority. She led you to her office and gestured to the chair facing her desk.
“I’ll cut right to the chase.” She smoothed her pencil skirt as she sat down. “The BAU is seeking a stand-by medic and I’d like to offer you the position. You’re revered highly by your previous places of employment and your current boss has only good things to say. Along with a personal reference by an employee of mine, you’re certainly a person of interest. You’d be working interchangeably with three other individuals, however you would be the first one called when needed.”
That is definitely not what you were expecting. You were almost immediately ready to turn down the offer. You didn’t work well with cops. You worked well in a hospital, going into the field to patch the wounds of both good and evil was a less than appealing deal to you. 
“You’d be on call while you worked your current position at Quantico Medical, when you’re at home you can remain there, but you’ll be flying with the rest of the team when they leave. You will be entered into a federal database, and employed as a stand-in for hospitals near you when working abroad.” She went on to explain you’d be paid salary, and when you heard just how much you could add to your monthly income by doing this, you took it. You were doing fine, you definitely didn’t need the financial boost, but you had family that could use it. Your niece had been close to turning down college because of the cost, so some extra money could really set her up. 
“Excellent. You’ll start your field training next Monday.” She was shuffling papers into a hefty stack as she talked. “Come back when you’ve finished this and I’ll arrange a team meeting.” The stack was even heavier than you expected when you picked it up. It was far too early to be regretting your decision. 
The first day of training had been easy enough. You weren’t an agent, so you avoided having to learn weapons or combat. It generally consisted of learning efficiency, along with how to work properly with agents and the expected etiquette when dealing with an unsub. You had met the team only once by now. Everyone had been nice - Garcia especially - but aside from her nobody had been particularly welcoming. The conditions of your job were a bit strange, basically capitalizing on the what ifs that came with the FBI title, and that created a bit of distance between you and the rest of the team. They questioned the necessity of you, they’d survived this long without a stand-by medic with them, why did they need one now?
Above any disregard for those in law enforcement sat your stubbornness. You knew they were on the fence about you, the most logical thing for you to do now would be attend every session required of you and prove yourself through pure accomplishment. Easy in theory, much harder to execute when Aaron Hotch is the one you’re learning from. He was a good teacher - you’d give him that - he had a confidence to him that easily dominated a room, attracted eyes in a way other men couldn’t manage. You’d ignored the initial stir in your stomach when meeting him in favor of attempting to scold him and his partner. Now, it was much harder to quell the slight pound in your head or the sweat on your palms. He was just standing up front, lecturing on the importance of a team, but his attire was the only thing able to break through the haze in your mind. Every time he’d shown up at the hospital, he’d donned a suit, a slightly baggy blazer worked incredibly well as a shield to your curiosity. That had clearly changed, as he shed the overcoat when talking to the class, having just a white button up adorn his torso. You took notice of the rolled up sleeves, clearing your throat quietly to snap yourself back into focus. You had the intention of snuffing out this little thing of yours but were a living contradiction at this point, setting on the goal of avoidance while barely ignoring the sight of the veins on his arms. You pondered the thought of sleeping with some man at a bar just to get this out of your system, but remembered how little projecting attraction onto someone else helps a situation. In other words, you were probably fucked.
– 
The first mission you worked with the team had you flying to a tiny Georgia town to investigate a string of bodies being found in ransacked homes. It seemed to be a simple motive, robbery turned to murder, but the team was called down to help once the kill count hit five. You had been expecting a long commercial flight, figuring you’d need to invest in a good neck pillow and some aspirin. Nobody had bothered to inform you the Bureau utilized private air travel, or that you’d be flying in one with people you’d known for two weeks. You’re sure you looked a little out of place, looking around the plane without being obvious you were doing it and adjusting to the sight of couches on planes. The others, having had this privilege for years now, took their respective seats. You had been nervous about that, unfortunately. The unsure feeling of where to sit reminding you painfully of high school cafeterias and inferior reputations. The only open seat happened to be right next to the man you’d been ducking away from the past two weeks. Lovely. He took a moment to look at you when you sat. You were prepared to talk to him, but for now you busied yourself with rummaging through your bag looking for nothing and pretending not to see him in your peripherals.
“Do you get sick on planes?” He seemed to have a deeper motive when he asked, like you saying yes would solve a puzzle in his head.
“Not really.” You’d only been on a plane a handful of times. “Turbulence can make me nervous, but I think that’s fairly normal.” You thought momentarily that perhaps he would blame your obvious anxiety on that instead of his proximity to you. He was a profiler, you’re sure he picked up on tells for nerves you weren’t even aware you had, but maybe he’d write it off. “Why do you ask?”
“You seem…” He trailed off for a moment, looking over your face to try and categorize your expression. “I don’t know, lost?” He smiled, light and easy, and you realized he was trying to reach out to you. The comfortability in the gesture made your head spin. It was like a shot of morphine, enveloping your body in a dull elation - an escape. You wanted that comfortability, wanted him to feel weightless around you. There had been a certain tension between the two of you since you started. He was warmer than the rest, but also more awkward. Your first real interaction had been an outburst, and it left you hesitant to talk to him. 
You chuckled at his remark. “No I -” You shook your head as you spoke, as if shaking off his accusation. “Nobody told me about the jet. You’d think exclusive aircraft would be in the job predecessor.”
He nodded in agreement, holding a slight upturn on his lips. “Yes, you would.” He glances away to check the time, looking back to you quickly like you were his homebase. “Strauss has a habit of getting ahead of herself. Plus, we’re all pretty used to it by now. I have to remind her sometimes that normal provisions don’t have a TI.”
“I’m sure.” It was clear she’d worked with the unit for a while. “Even if they did, though, they’d never find another Garcia.” You thought of the woman, bright and sparkly and incredibly good at her job. “You guys are lucky to have her.”
He stared at you, losing a hint of the lightheartedness and letting a wave of genuinity intertwine with it. “You have her too, Y/n.” His eyes were like a trap, rich pools of honey just begging to tug you down in. “You’re a member of this team. Don’t think your newness makes you inferior to anyone else on it. We’re lucky to have you too.”
Fuck, you were whipped. “I really appreciate that, sir.”
He smiled, shaking his head and waving you off. “Don’t with the sir, please. It’s bad enough when Garcia does it. You can call me Aaron.” Not even the other team members called him that, a thought that seemed to strike you both simultaneously. “Or Hotch, whatever you prefer.”
You just looked at him, letting a smile rouse your lips and trying your hardest not to let the effect he had on you reach your face. “Ok.”
The first case had been good training wheels, simply tending to a vic who needed stitches and getting a feel for the life of a field agent. You’d been adjusting nicely to it, quickly getting used to working random hospitals and waiting to be needed on an active crime scene. The others had warmed up to you tremendously after getting back, opening their circle for one more, and you couldn’t be more grateful. A team like this was something you’d wanted for a while, growing more and more unsatisfied with the callous ER workspace by the day. Ironically, there was much more life in jobs dealing with murder. He had also been warming up to you. The two of you hit the status of work-place friends nearly instantly. The endearing encounter on the plane simmered inside you for a while. The memory of it prompting you to keep talking to him, always searching for a fix of the painkiller you’d felt that day. 
You weren’t a profiler, but you were unfathomably infatuated, leading you to never miss his tone getting softer with you, or any one of his touches that lingered for just a second too long. It just barely bypassed the line of friendship, but you never lost sight of that linear barrier, so it was incredibly prevalent to you when he breached it. You scoffed at the idea of any reciprocity, brushing off every remark made by a coworker or the one horrific time you heard JJ refer to the two of you as ‘mom and dad.’ This wasn’t a plausible thing. This was a stupid workplace crush that was more of a hindrance than anything. The growing closeness between you and him would have it’s effects properly restrained to the confines of your head, only permitted to express themselves once you were away from the man. It was an odd dynamic, but Aaron wasn’t an obvious guy, so trying to define the edges of you two would only draw attention to the fact you had been looking at all. No thank you.
“Shit.” The team was sitting around the table going over their files. You were mainly there for support, as you were never a part of the lead up to the catch, the chase. You heard Hotch mumble the exclamation under his breath and looked over to see the trouble. He was looking down at his phone, jaw resting between his thumb and pointer finger. You got up and moved to sit next to him, the motion virtually ignored by everyone else as they continued searching for connections.
“Everything ok?” You mumbled to him, trying not to disturb your friends who were nearly nose-deep in their files. 
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Jack’s sitter canceled. I wanted to stay here to go over the latest crime scene but I guess I’ll have to raincheck.” The killings of your latest unsub had been increasing. You knew the collective stress that was starting to boil within the team. Him going home would only slow them down, a horrible addition to a killer that was speeding up. 
You volunteered your night away before you even got a chance to think about it. 
“I can watch him.” 
Surprise was apparent in the raise of his eyebrows. “I appreciate it, but I couldn’t ask that of you.
You’re fairly certain you would do anything he asked of you, but the nobility of the man in this case almost made you roll your eyes. “No, please. I offered and I would love to. I’m not helping anyone just sitting here, and you leaving would slow them down. You know what to look for here, I don’t. I don’t want another girl going missing just cause your sitter flaked. I can do it.”
He seemed mildly speechless. “I -” He paused, trying to find the wording he wanted. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll send you the address, if you’re sure.” He looked at you with more adoration than you’d ever had directed at you, so intense your eyes instinctively ducked down. “Thank you, Y/n.” He was so touched by the action it made you slightly sad to think about. Had no one ever helped him? Maybe you were raised weird, this seemed hardly beyond common decency to you. 
“What are friends for?” He exhaled a slight laugh in gratuitous agreement, but you saw the glimmer of his eyes dull slightly. The notion surely reflected in your own eyes as the words burned your tongue. Friends.
Jack was a delight. A well mannered, clearly well raised kid. Parts of his dad shined so vibrantly in him that you’re sure you’d be able to pick him out of a crowd based on mannerisms alone. Hotch had called Jack’s daycare, verifying your identity and giving you the ok to go pick him up. He seemed quiet on the way home, but rushed to give you a tour of the house, and excitedly led you to his line up of toy trains once you’d entered the place. There was a shift between you and Hotch that happened when you gave the offer. A shift that was now only just settling in you. This was his house. His space, his stuff, his place of security. He’d invited you into it, gave you permission to enter it, to exist within it, and it was strangely intoxicating. He was intoxicating, and you realized quickly how much you ached for the permanence of it. You’d made Jack dinner, played for a bit, went out for ice cream per his pleading, and wished him a peaceful goodnight when his bedtime rolled around. He’d dubbed you his ‘best babysitter ever’ and you knew as soon as the words hit your ears that you’d be watching him again. You’re sure situations like today popped up frequently for Hotch, you could be a valuable asset to him when you had free time. He would be saving money too. No need to pay a sitter when you were being paid by the Bureau every second you were there. Aaron had gotten home a few minutes past one, utterly exhausted and uncharacteristically apologetic. He was sorry for being gone so long, making you stay so late, everything and anything the man could apologize for was pouring out of his mouth. He’d welcomed you to stay, but his hair was messy from messing with it all night, and he’d ditched the suit jacket for a gray long sleeve. You’d wanted to take the opportunity, wanted to bask in the safety of him for as long as he’d allow it, but those restrained thoughts were clawing the walls of your skull with a vigor unlike anything you’d felt before. It would be abhorrent to dream about the man while in the confines of his home. You couldn’t do that - you wouldn’t. You brushed off any apology he could conjure and let him escort you out the door. His hand was on your lower back, and his voice was low from the siphoning nature of the day. 
“Thank you, again.” He looked at you. “You’re a lifesaver.” You’d expected to hear some humor in his voice. The start of banter between friends, a casual appreciation for a job well done, but there wasn’t any. He sounded rough, slightly beat down, his eyes filled with a sincerity all aimed at you. A blend of pure adoration and a deeper level of dedication. Was this a commitment? What kind?
Heat bubbled in your stomach as you made eye contact. “Please.” You shook your head slightly. “Jack’s an angel. You’re clearly as good at this as you are profiling.” You nodded in the vague direction of Jack’s bedroom as you referenced the kid. “It was my pleasure. I’d love to do it again, if you’ll let me.” 
He sighed out a small laugh and broke your gaze for a moment, looking back to you as he spoke. “I’d like that.”
You’d seen Jack a multitude of times after that. Aaron was never particularly fond of asking you, claiming that he appreciated the gesture but it was mainly Jack’s begging that made him cave. That, and your persistence. You liked Jack a lot, and more selfishly, you liked being around Aaron’s stuff. It was a little creepy, yes, but you felt better acquainted with him after being around his things. An energetic type of understanding, the type that deepened a connection without words. He was needed late tonight, and as much as you hated denying an offer to see Jack, you had priorities at the hospital. The previous sitter wasn’t able to watch him, so she gave a personal recommendation, and Jack got stuck with a stranger. You thought about him while working, probing and patching people half-focused with the desire to be elsewhere. You’d felt mildly guilty about it, but it’s not like it altered your work, so you figured it was harmless. 
You wondered slightly if you manifested the event you were watching play out. You watched in pure disbelief as a sobbing Jack was being carried into the ER by a flustered blonde woman. There was blood staining the right sleeve of his shirt, pouring out of his skin in a surplus and completely soaking through the material. A jagged piece of glass was standing at attention in his wrist, having sliced through the fabric like butter. He was marked ‘urgent,’ who knows if the shard had hit an artery or where the glass had come from. 
Most other doctors were busy, either operating or tending to patients. You’d walked to the front desk, remaining as calm as your racing heart would let you, and told the secretary to assign the case to you. “I know this one. Let me take him.” She just nodded, marking your name down as the primary doctor and allowing you to take him back. 
Walking up to the blonde woman, you assumed this had been the new babysitter. She was a wreck, trying to explain what happened through her own hysteria while simultaneously having her words drowned out by the crying child. “It’s ok, ma’am.” You’d reassured her, obviously she hadn’t intended the injury. “Let me take him, I’m a friend of his father.” You saw the calmness dilate her eyes, making itself apparent in the relaxation of her tense shoulders. You removed the bleeding boy from her arms, holding him against you and cooing at him the way you would a baby. You took him to a stretcher a few feet away and laid him down, ensuring his wounded arm stayed flat in an attempt to slow the blood. He was on the brink of passing out, his body not having nearly enough energy for the sobbing on top of losing vital fluid. “Jack.” You addressed him directly, two more doctors aiding your transfer to an examination room. “I need you to stay with me, buddy. Just a little longer, I promise. You’re gonna be just fine.” You pushed with one hand, caressing his non-injured arm to emphasize your affection. “Just a little longer.” You looked at him in between looking forward to keep the stretcher straight, seeing that same adoration from his father’s eyes mirrored in his. You felt protective, realizing you cared for the Hotchners much more than you let yourself believe. Little kid with bruises, you skimmed through your origins in your mind in an attempt to center your focus. Just a little kid with bruises.
Two hours later, Jack was stitched up and sleeping soundly. You knew his sitter had called Hotch, probably as soon as something happened, and were not surprised to find him idle in a waiting room chair. He was leaned forward, head in his hands and knee bouncing violently. He heard footsteps getting closer, a feeling within him recognizing them as yours, and he looked up. His eyes were teary, tired. The look of a concerned father.
“How is he?” You’d never witnessed this type of worry in him, heard the amount of desperation in his voice.
You smiled lightly as a predecessor to Jack’s wellbeing. “He’s fine. Glass missed his arteries. We had him patched up in around an hour and a half. Gave him a lollipop and a light sedative to get him to rest. He should be all set to go in the morning.” 
He sighed, and the amount of stress that audibly left his body made you feel a little lighter from where you stood. “Thank God.”
“Hey man, give us a little credit.” You joked, relieved when you heard the slight laugh come from his downturned head. Pity laugh, probably, but it was a cherished sound nonetheless. 
“You have full credit, Y/n.” He shook his head, raising it to look at you. “Quite the hero.”
You almost physically recoiled from the term, rushing to correct him while maintaining the lighthearted nature. “Definitely not.” You rejected the praise. “Just doing my job. I’m glad I could help him.”
He leaned back in his chair, relaxing for a second before he planned to stand up. “Noble.” He chuckled. “But you helped my son. That’s about as heroic as it gets to me, doc.”
Blood rushed to your ears at your professional title being used so affectionately. “Go check on your kid, Hotch.” You waved back towards the direction of Jack, knowing that even though he was asleep, he’d want to see him anyway. You also hoped the slight distraction would draw his attention away from your increasingly flustered state. “You’ll have plenty of time to praise me.” You weren’t entirely sure you’d wanted the sentence to exit your mouth, but it was too late to bite your tongue.
He raised his eyebrows so slightly that you scolded yourself for having noticed. Such a minuscule action that seemed to move mountains within your brain. “Oh?”
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at your own remark. “I’m walking away. You know what I meant.”
“Mhm.” He smiled, nodding his head dramatically and rising from his seat. “Just name a time and place, doc. I’ll do good on that promise.”
You went momentarily braindead, hoping your eyes weren’t giving away the less than work appropriate feeling pumping through your veins. You stared baffled at him for what was definitely a millisecond too long before giving a half-shocked, half-flattered laugh and gesturing him away. “Say that when you’re not obviously sleep deprived and delirious and maybe we can arrange it.” The last thing you heard was him, laughing the way you do when you’re very serious but desperately trying to pass it off as a joke. You knew it well, having done it almost every time you were around him since you started. Comfortable, witty retorts between  friends. “Have a good night, Aaron.” 
Aaron, he thought. He’d remember that.
– 
That had been the second shift between the two of you. Felt immediately by both parties and tossing you both into the deep end of whatever you’d been building with him. He���d been much more touchy, seemingly subconscious on his part but noticed by every part of your body, mind, and soul. You thought about what it could mean, then sunk even further into your incoherent mind when realizing just how subconscious the actions really were. He was just drawn to you. You had viscerally fought that conclusion as it came to you but it genuinely could not be anything else. He was touching you more because - whether on the surface or deeper down - he just wanted to, and that fact was wrecking you. You were so fucking into him that it hurt. Hurt to look at him or be in his home watching Jack or have his knee pressed against yours in the back of car during a team outing. It all hurt because he wasn’t yours. He seemed into you, too. Of course, you didn’t know to what extent. You worried maybe he hadn’t said anything yet because he simply didn’t like you enough, and that hurt more than any other factor. It was a foolish notion - one you would have abandoned instantly had you peeked inside his head - but alas, no such luck.
He’d been more relaxed, too. The two of you reaching a point in your relationship you hadn’t ever let yourself dream about. He was funny, achieving that lightness around you that you’d wanted from the start. He’d gotten riskier, amping up the dial on his remarks a bit. Starting with those like the hospital, ending with ones that made you have to take a breather in the room where they kept the coffee. It hadn’t gone unnoticed, per say, but the others were certainly ignorant to the true depth of the change. You simply couldn’t measure it by witnessing, you had to feel it. And fuck were you feeling it. 
A week or so after Jack’s ER visit, you’d asked after him. You didn’t know if the regret was immediate, but it flooded through you quickly. Aaron got nervous, shifty, like you’d touched a live wire of his and he now had to patch it up before it blew. You got concerned, asking if something happened with his stitches or if Jack was now showing some sort of trauma response to the event. Was that even plausible? You weren’t sure, PTSD wasn’t exactly your strong suit. However, he quickly stated that wasn’t the case, noting that Jack was actually in perfect health and had been relentless about wanting you over for dinner.
“He’s grateful.” Hotch was smiling with paternal reluctance, proud of his son for having such good morals but also uncomfortable with the possibility of rejection he was facing. “He wants to see you, say thank you for “saving his life.” He emphasized the last bit in a sarcastic tone, both of you knowing his life hadn’t been in danger but also knowing that fact wouldn’t deter the boy from considering you some type of guardian angel. “Would you be up for it?” If you hadn’t been so focused on snuffing out the heat rushing to your face, you would have seen that same heat reflected in a slight pink across his cheeks. 
“Definitely.” You smiled at the thought of the boy bugging his dad about getting you to the house. “When were you thinking?”
“Saturday night?” Both of you were scheduled to be off that day, and you found yourself begging whatever merciful being would listen to not have some lead to chase that day. “He’ll want the day to prepare.” He chuckled.
“Oh no.” You joked. Prepare? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what that meant. “Well, I am extremely curious to find out what an eight year old boy has to prepare for. How about seven? Would that be good?”
Aaron felt his palms start to sweat. He’d never actually been around his house when you’d been there, only seeing you on your way out. “That’s perfect.”
“Great.” You smiled, checking the time and realizing you needed to get going to the hospital. “I’m looking forward to it.” You nodded slightly as one last confirmation and headed out, suppressing a giddy smile while trying to force yourself into a headspace you could work in. 
In the meantime, Aaron watched you walk off from where he’d been perched on your desk, entirely oblivious to the man watching the scene.
“As I live and breathe.” Rossi had crept up on him, not spooking him but rather suspending him in a state of immeasurable embarrassment. “Aaron Hotcher has a crush.” The man held his shoulder, patting him there like a father witnessing his son get his first girlfriend. “She’s a good one. Quite the eye you got, Aaron.” Then he was gone, walking away with Aaron’s dignity clasped in his hands. Closing his eyes in pure mortification, Hotch simply thanked God that nobody else was around for that and walked away with the intention of fusing to his office chair to avoid ever looking at Rossi again. At least you’d said yes, he thought. He didn’t know how he’d cope with his friend watching him swing and miss.
The daylight seemed to be anticipating this more than you were, hours passing by like minutes until eventually the sun woke you up on Saturday morning. It was blazing through the cracks in your blinds, settling in slim lines across your floor, as light and gentle as snow. You’d been rehearsing your poker face in preparation for tonight. Writing safety manuals for any ungodly situation that could happen, everything from a fire to Aaron gaining the ability to read your mind and unearthing what you really thought about him. You were so happy that Jack held you in such high esteem, but your hands were shaking at the thought of sitting down with him and his father and acting like it wasn’t the dynamic you fucking dreamt about. You knew it was a good sign of compatibility if someone’s cat liked you - did their child liking you mean the same thing? You hoped Jack’s seemingly innate approval of you gave you at least a couple brownie points. Aaron had called you a hero. Swiftly ignoring the memory of what he’d said after he called you a hero, you pulled out your phone. You and him didn’t really speak outside of work and babysitting schedules, but you were pacing around your room and needed something to give you a semblance of structure, a reassurance - even if it was just for the time. You texted, asking if you were still on for tonight, then went to go make breakfast and inevitably pace some more. He’d gotten back to you about twenty minutes later, confirming the time and giving details of how excited Jack was about it. You smiled at that, praying tonight would be as smooth as humanly possible and you could walk away with an ounce of emotional control. You set an intention, this wouldn’t deepen your feelings for Aaron. Was it a pointless goal? Yes. Was it also highly unlikely to prove true? Yes. But the loose plan you worked around the resolution almost completely extinguished the anxiety that had been blazing for hours now. It would be fine, you thought. Completely and utterly fine. 
The same words were looping through your thoughts when you got to his front door. Casual - but still minorly more dressed up than he’d seen you. You’d put a little extra effort into your appearance, mainly to pass the time if you were honest, and you walked in with mild confidence fueling your steps. You did your best not to ogle him, he was in an attire that was already threatening to unravel the safety net of the goal you set. You were used to the suits hidden beneath blazers you cursed the existence of, maybe a snippet of his forearms when he rolled up his sleeves late at night. Now, though, he sported a simple black tee, more comfortable than you’d ever seen him. Domesticity was practically oozing from the entire situation. You felt the pieces slip into place as Jack ran up behind him, and you almost cried with how badly you wanted this feeling to be your normal. 
“Hey, buddy.” You laughed as he hugged you, reciprocating the act as well as you could from the multiple feet you had on his height. “How’s the arm?”
He raised up his wrist, now gauze free and proudly showed off the scar there. You played up the genuine admiration you felt for him. “That’s a pretty gnarly scar.” He nodded in response, probably feeling cool for the evidence he handled such an injury. “I don’t want to see you back in my operating room, you hear me? Scared the life out of us.” The scolding was playful, and he giggled at your words.
Aaron huffed in agreement, cocking his head to the side slightly. “You can say that again.” Jack looked between you two, smiling and seemingly thinking something neither of you could decipher. To break the moment of silence, Aaron patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you tell her what’s on the menu, buddy?”
He told you, and you hummed along to his words, commenting that it sounded delicious and actually meaning it. He ran away a second later - presumably back to whatever he’d been doing before you got there - and left you and Aaron alone. Venturing into the kitchen, you saw multiple pans and pots sitting neatly on the stove, table set and ready to be utilized. Everything was being kept warm, and you finally gained an appetite after having wrestled with nerves all day. 
“Do you want a drink?” He asked it while entering the kitchen, pausing to look at you. 
“Please.” You were desperate to calm yourself, eager to subdue the shaking of your hands. “Do you have any wine?” You weren’t the biggest fan, but you couldn’t think of a drink more fitting for the evening.
He nodded slightly. “Red or white?”
“White.”
He chuckled. “Thought so.” It was quiet, more to himself than you as he was already walking away from you when he said it. He’d thought about what kind of wine you liked, you thought. He’d thought about you. He pulled two wine glasses down from the cupboard, then walked over to the fridge. He reached above it, barely having to stretch, and pulled an uncorked bottle from the storage up there. You felt your legs tense looking at how tall he was, how sure he was of his actions. Jesus. It’s been five minutes and you were crumbling. You watched his hands as he uncorked the bottle, reading the label and realizing the brand.
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Seems a little fancy for a dinner.”
He laughed under his breath as he finished pouring the glasses, walking back over to sit next to you on the island stools. “You’re a guest of honor.” He placed yours in front of you. “I thought it was fitting.” 
You searched, but couldn’t find the humor in his tone. You raised your eyebrows slightly. “Am I?” It was sarcastic, you needed to stop the heat in your stomach from spreading. “I didn’t know doing your job earned such a title.”
He was drinking as you spoke, finishing his sip before joking back. “You’re a doctor.” He said. “I thought you knew that better than anyone.”
You sucked air through your teeth as if wounded by his words. “Touche.” You took a sip of your drink, relishing the taste. Damn, he didn’t come to play. He laughed, and you set your glass back down. “Ok, I have to know.” He drew his attention to you. “What the hell did Jack need the day to prepare for?” The question had been on your mind since he asked you.
He took a drink, chuckling with a mouthful then swallowing so he could reply. “He actually helped cook most of this.” He nodded towards the stove full of different dishes. “That was what he needed the day for. Time for trial and error.”
You grinned at the thought of Jack and Aaron spending the day in aprons, making sure everything turned out perfect. “That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”
He looked back towards Jack, coloring in the living room, close enough to see but far enough to miss your discussions. “He gets nervous around you.”
That surprised you. “Why on Earth would he be nervous around me?” You took your turn looking at the boy, an idea hitting you and making you feel sick. “Wait, I didn’t do something did I?”
He looked back at you, smiling. “No, no. Nothing like that. He gets nervous because he likes you. He knows who you are to me, too, so he wants to make a good impression.”
Your mind latched onto that sentence and played it like a broken record, bouncing between your ears over and over. “Oh?” Your lips were curling up at the corners, eyebrows furrowing as you got ready to hold him to that statement. “And who might I be to you, Aaron?”
Fuck. He’d let that slip past his lips without even thinking about it. So used to being in the confidential company of his son. Good thing he used to be a lawyer and could lie his ass off. “Most of his sitters aren’t also my coworkers.” He delivered it the smoothest way he could, smiling and drinking to hopefully exude a false comfortability that he certainly wasn’t feeling.
“Mhm.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look sarcastic but in truth downplaying the sting you felt. What if this had been one-sided all along? You hadn’t prepped a safety guide for that.
Luckily, Jack came sprinting into the kitchen a second later, pleading with his father to eat now. Clinging to his leg and declaring how hunger was killing him by the second, dramatically threatening to wither away before your very eyes. You both shared a look, agreeing silently to put the kid out of his misery. The instinctual nature of the act hit you like a bolt of lightning. Both of you so in tune it was comical. The dinner had been lovely, and you reminded yourself to encourage Jack to keep up his cooking hobby. Maybe you could foster a professional chef. You’d talked with them both, light and the happiest you’d felt in a while. There it was, you realized. That weightless feeling you wanted to give him. You felt it in yourself too, and you could only pray it was because he felt it first. When dinner concluded, you’d help clean up while Jack resumed his coloring. His bedtime was soon, and you didn’t want him to spend his last hour washing pans. He was nearly delirious by the time 9:00 graced the clock, tired from the preparation of the day and needing to get to sleep. He’d given you a hug goodnight, thanked you for coming like the gentleman he was, and that was the last you saw of him. The rest of your time there was spent on the couch with Aaron, you both held a second glass of wine, and you noticed it manifest in the blush on his face. He was gorgeous, and you were staring. You know your eyes went to his lips a couple times as he spoke, low and rougher as the time ushered more light out of the sky. You saw his eyes slip down a few times too, this sort of unspoken, agonizing rule of look don’t touch. He’d walked you to the door, thanked you for your attendance, and then you were leaving. Sitting in your car, warm on the inside from both his presence and the anger you felt at yourself for not just kissing him. You were so incredibly needy for this - for him, and that fact just sat with you, like a raincloud constantly in a state of downpour, never letting you forget the pure fucking craving you had for him.
You think the start of your blackout was Morgan’s panicked voice over the speaker. You’d been stationed in your typical hut, equipped with medical gear and waiting on someone to need you. It was almost never your team in need of service, typically you were tending to an injured hostage or sometimes the unsub themselves, but never your friends. Your breath had been baited since you’d heard the gun go off. You knew the case was dealing with an aggressive attacker, you’d been expecting a fight, but nothing is ever more excruciating than waiting to hear who the shot was meant for. Derek crying out your name followed by a “get in here. Hotch is down, we need you in here.” had you ready to run the soles of your shoes down to dust just to make it in time. In time. God, in time for what? You’d ran past Emily and Rossi hauling out the unsub, anger evident in their treatment of him. How bad was it? How bad had he got him to have them acting like that?
The scene was bloody. Your brain switching off and forcing you into autopilot as you registered the pool of Hotch’s blood that Morgan was kneeling in. He was putting pressure on the wound, an attempt to stop the bleeding but it was flowing like a river. He wouldn’t make it to the hospital like this, you realized. He wouldn’t make it to the fucking hospital. You were holding his life in between your hands right now, the slightest tremor could sever that chord and you were feeling the pressure hard. Aaron was leaned against the wall, slumping down slightly which was only making the bleeding increase under the internal pressure. 
You looked at Morgan, putting on the bravest face you could muster and effectively seizing control of the situation. “Morgan.” You got his attention quickly. “On three I need you to lift him away from the wall. I need to check for an exit wound.” He just nodded, doing exactly as you’d told him when you reached three. You checked the area, finding an exit wound in nearly the same spot. It’d been a straight line. You sighed in relief. Thank fucking God. “Ok, Morgan, I need you to put pressure on the wound on his back. I’m going to stitch the front to give us the time we need for the hospital drive but I need you to hold it. You got me?” 
He nodded once. “I got it.” He moved his hand from the front to the back, Aaron wincing at the switch.
You took out the numbing cream from your pack, knowing it wouldn’t do much for a gushing bullet wound but hoping it would at least quell the sting of a needle. You took out the needle, threading it with hands frighteningly stagnant as the adrenaline gave you tunnel vision. You had to save him. “Aaron.” You looked at him as you prepped his skin for the procedure. “I’m gonna need to double stitch this, and it’s gonna hurt like hell. I need you to stay with me.” 
The man just nodded, exhaling in exhaustion. “Do it.”
You worked as quickly as possible, gaining hope as you listened to the ambulance approach. “There you go.” You said under your breath, at this point you couldn’t tell if you were reassuring him or yourself.  You looked to Morgan, who was still sealing the other injury. “Help me get him up. Keep your hand on there. These stitches are gonna give us twenty minutes tops. Hold his shoulders straight and walk quickly.” You counted again, both of you rising when you hit three, taking the man with you. The walk to the ambulance was the longest of your life. Aaron was clinging to his consciousness but you knew he was losing grip. Finally getting him to the stretcher and slamming the doors was a relief like nothing else. There was no time to debate anyone else going, you rushed him in and sat right down beside him, taking off almost immediately after. The bleeding had slowed, and your hand took the place of Morgan’s on his back. Since he was laying down, his full weight was on it, and you felt the circulation lessen more and more as it remained there. You couldn’t care less, you’d let the blood drain from your entire arm if it meant Aaron’s survival. He hadn’t passed out, which you thought was miraculous, simply walked the line of decently delirious. Groaning under his breath at every slight bump in the road. 
“Why am I always having to save you Hotchner men?” You knew now wasn’t the time to be humorous, but you would have done anything to deviate from the tears in your eyes, the ball in your throat. You finally understood why it was frowned upon to date coworkers - it should be illegal to care this much. 
“I don’t know, honey.” The pet name was the kicker, allowing a tear to break the dam and roll down your cheek as he chuckled. “You seem to be pretty damn good at it, though.” You laughed too, fighting the devastation you felt at the sight of him with the fact that he was clearly well enough to still be joking. “I should have kissed you when you came for dinner.”
Fuck. “Aaron, now is not the time.” You chuckled slightly as more tears fell. This is absurd.
“I know but-” He flinched as the ambulance hit another bump. Almost there. “I might as well say it now.” You wondered if there was genuinely something wrong with him. “You’ve been all I can think about since the moment-'' He paused to breathe slightly in exertion, you giving a disapproving look as his confession took it’s toll. “since the moment you started, you know that?”
“You are dying! Please, for the love of God, Aaron. Use this energy to prevent that from happening.” Your scolding was dramatic, but your actual concern shone brightly through your ruse of sarcasm. 
“Exactly.” He was being equally as sarcastic. How on Earth did he manage this with a rapidly declining life force. “Give a dying man a chance. How unfortunate would it be if the last thing I hear before I go out is the woman of my dreams rejecting me?”
“Jesus Christ.” You shook your head in pure amazement. This was by far the most goal oriented man you’d ever met. “I’ll let you take me out if you shut the hell up and save your energy.” He smiled, letting his head hit the reclined back of the stretcher. “After you get better.” You added, reminding him that his recovery took priority. “Deal?”
“Deal.” This was probably the most insufferable man you’d ever met. “Such a good motivator.”
Scratch that. Most insufferable man ever.
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jeonginsleftcheek · 2 days ago
Text
Dolly II
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~ part 2 of the Dolly series
pairing: seungmin x afab!reader
genre: smut, college au
synopsis: your friends found it funny to buy you a sex doll and pose it in your bed to prank you.
wc: 7.7k
warnings: alcohol, thigh riding, handjob, cum tasting, unprotected sex, hand kink, nipple play, creampie, mentions of crying, choking, edging, spanking, hair pulling, pussy slap, oral(m), fingering
a/n: thank you @jehhskz for helping with the premise of this one🥹💕
~ maybe you'd like: Hyunjin dolly
~ divider by @bunnysrph
Another sleepless night.
Staring at your laptop screen, the letters start blurring and bleeding into one another, making the headache behind your eyes throb even more.
Exam after exam, you're becoming more jaded, feeling like you're high out of your mind when it's just lack of sleep.
As you scroll through a page you're researching for your paper, an advert pops out.
"Sex dolls?" you chuckle and click on it, even if it looks a bit shady.
You're taken to a stylish site, black background with big neon green letters asking you "What's your vibe for today?", and you scoff.
"Try dead inside." you say out loud and the letters flicker before disappearing, new text appearing on the screen, making you gasp.
"Feeling sarcastic, are we?" - it says and you shriek, quickly exiting the site and deleting the history.
How the fuck did it hear you?
Did they hack your laptop?
You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.
With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.
You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.
-
The room is totally spinning.
You are totally spinning.
You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.
You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.
They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.
"What?" you almost bark at them.
"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.
"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.
Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.
"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.
The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.
The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.
"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.
"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.
Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.
Shrugging, you make your way to your room.
Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.
One, two, three...
And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.
"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.
Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.
"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.
"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."
"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.
"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.
"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.
"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.
"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.
"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.
"Well, the six of us got some money together."
"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.
"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.
You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.
"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.
"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.
You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.
You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.
"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.
Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.
He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.
He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.
Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.
His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.
You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.
He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.
You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.
You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.
Hello,
my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.
I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.
Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.
Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.
"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.
"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.
A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.
My cutie!
I got dressed for our first date!
Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.
"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.
"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.
You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.
"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.
You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.
You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.
"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.
Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.
It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?
Maybe even more important, why?
After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.
WARNING!
If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.
The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.
Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.
Do not throw the doll into the trash.
Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.
If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.
If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.
Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!
"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.
Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.
"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.
"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.
Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.
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Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.
Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.
"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.
Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.
It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.
Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.
"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."
Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.
"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.
"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.
You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.
"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.
-
It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.
You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.
Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.
"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.
"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.
For some reason, you think he might be frowning.
"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."
The doll is quiet.
"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.
"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.
After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.
As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.
It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.
It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.
Maybe it was just in your mind.
Yeah, probably.
Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.
"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.
"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.
"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.
"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.
"Feeling territorial, are we?"
"N-no!" you blush instantly.
"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.
You sigh and make your way to your room too.
"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.
As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.
You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.
"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.
Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.
"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.
You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.
Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.
For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.
You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.
"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.
Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.
It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.
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Oh no.
Your favorite shirt is gone.
You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.
Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.
You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.
"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"
"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."
"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.
"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.
Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.
You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.
Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.
"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.
He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.
"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.
It was only the beginning.
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A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.
You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.
You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.
Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.
Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.
It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.
Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.
In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.
Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.
Seungmin.
Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.
After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.
Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.
"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.
"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.
"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.
You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?
Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.
He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.
"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.
His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.
His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.
You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.
You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.
You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.
"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.
You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.
Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.
This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.
You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.
You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.
"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.
"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.
"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.
"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.
You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.
"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.
Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.
"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.
You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.
There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.
You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.
With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.
"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.
"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.
After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.
"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.
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Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.
You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.
All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.
It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.
Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.
You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.
A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.
Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.
For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.
You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.
You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.
And you were right.
Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.
You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.
He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.
He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.
Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.
The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.
I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.
"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.
A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.
Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.
He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.
Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.
He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.
Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.
He loves you.
So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.
He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.
-
Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.
With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.
You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.
"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.
You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.
Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.
He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.
His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.
"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.
"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.
You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.
"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.
His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.
"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.
"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.
"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."
"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.
"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."
"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.
"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.
"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.
"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.
"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.
He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.
Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.
You held him tighter, making him melt into you.
Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.
"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.
"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.
"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.
"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.
He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.
All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.
"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.
He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.
You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.
Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.
"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.
"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.
You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.
"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.
"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.
The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.
He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.
Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.
Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.
When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.
"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.
He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.
He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.
Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.
"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.
"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.
"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.
"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.
"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.
"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.
"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.
He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.
"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.
All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.
You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.
You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.
You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.
"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.
"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.
You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.
"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.
You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.
"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.
"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.
"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.
Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.
You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.
His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.
"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.
"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes." you say, breathless.
Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.
"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.
"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.
"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.
Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.
You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.
Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.
"What the fuck?!"
"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.
"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.
"I woke up-"
"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.
"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.
"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.
"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."
"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.
"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.
Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.
"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.
Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.
"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.
"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.
"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."
"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.
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Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.
He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.
Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.
As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.
All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.
The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.
Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.
After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.
"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.
"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.
"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.
"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"
"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.
"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.
"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.
-
"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.
He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.
"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.
"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.
"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.
You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.
You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.
Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.
"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.
You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.
You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.
"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.
It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.
Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.
You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.
You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.
"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.
You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.
"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.
Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.
Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.
"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.
He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.
"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.
"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.
"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.
Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.
He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.
You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.
When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.
"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.
Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.
"Let it." he begs.
"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.
"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"
"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.
"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"
"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.
"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.
"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.
"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.
"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"
"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."
"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.
"But-"
"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.
"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.
But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.
Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.
With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.
As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.
The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...
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fan-goddess · 6 months ago
Note
can you hotd characters (mostly alicent and rhaenrya) when the reader almost passes in child birth? thank youuuu :3
A/N: Yep can do! I’ve never given birth, gotten pregnant nor seen anything resembling child birth apart from the Aemma scene in HOTD so I hope I did this justice!? Sorry this has taken so long!
Character Roll Call: Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Aemond and Jacaerys (All romantic love)
Warnings: Child birth, talk of infertility, talk of not able to have children, pregnancy, she/her pronouns used in some places for reader, talk of death during childbirth, talk about smut but no smut, dirty talk, a most likely inaccurate childbirth telling, graphic detailing of blood and gore, this is not proofread! (if I miss any please let me know in a way you’re most comfortable!)
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Rhaenyra Targaryen:
It was not the typical marriage you and your husband shared. For whilst you had never had a particular fondness for goose, he understood that and went after his own interest in tasting the variety the world provided him with.
So while he was off exploring, you were in the chambers of the heir of the realm. Showing her your devotion in the most unexpected of ways.
Yet soon, after nearly two years of marriage with no children, people were beginning to become suspicious of your womb. More specifically, your husband’s own family. There was talk of them already arranging a second marriage for him as your womb was supposedly infertile. So after a talk with him, you and your husband for a whole of three months, with the help of Rhaenyra. And just when you thought your efforts were unsuccessful, the maester greeted you with a smile, and told you you were with child.
Your lover took the news surprisingly well, as Rhaenyra spent all hours of the day with you comparing possible names for the baby. Your husband had done his part in this game. Now, you and Nyra could spend your days eating the cake and kissing the days away. Acting oblivious to the hateful world surrounding the two three of you.
“What about Aurion?” Nyra suggests, a lazy smile on her lips as she places a fork with a large chunk of vanilla cake on the end between your lips.
“Hmmmmm” You hum, smiling in thought. “Perhaps let’s not raise more suspicions than we’d like my darling. How about something not so Valyrian?”
She laughs, and yet agrees with you with her smile turning strained and sad. Her hand reaches for your own instinctively and you quickly move to grab it and squeeze it tight. “Alright alright! What about Rhys? Ivan? Those are some more boring names!”
You laugh, and yet make sure to note them down somewhere in your head. You discuss names of girls also, just in case. Yet months later as you sat screaming your heart out on the birthing bed, those names disappeared as pain became all you know.
“You must push my lady! The baby is trapped you must push!” One of the ladies in waiting says as she positions herself by your bottom half.
“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING PUSH!” You scream, sweat dripping down your face as your eyes screw shut. Your voice loud as the pain spreads further through you, till eventually you feel it all over.
Soon, the pain that blooms all over becomes numbing. Especially, when you feel your eyes becoming heavy, eventually shutting so all you see is black and the world becomes silent.
“What is happening?!” Rhaenyra screams, her face becoming pale as memories of her mother come flooding to her head. “What is happening to her?!”
“The lady is haemorrhaging!” One of the maesters yells, a multitude of rags of all sorts in his hands as he attempts to stop the blood from further dripping onto the floor. The babe that had quite literally fallen out of your whilst you had fallen unconscious was quickly taken away by the ladies in waiting to be cleaned and attended to. So now, all focus was on keeping you alive. By order of the future Queen of Westeros.
It feels as thought it had taken hours to stop the bleeding. Yet that meant nothing till Rhaenyra who waited anxiously by your side with your hand in her own. Her fingers poised by your pulse so she can reassure herself that you were truly living beside her and not dead like her mother.
By the time you had finally begun to rouse from your deep slumber, the day had turned to night. And all those in the room were exhausted from the effort it took. The maesters in particular, who knew that if they allowed themselves to slack, the princess would soon be upon them with the fury of the dragons.
“My love….” Rhaenyra whispered, at this point uncaring of the multiple people in that room who’d scuttle themselves to her father and the hand at the slightest chance of a scandal. “Do you hurt?”
“As much as childbirth allows me to be in…” You laugh, yet wincing as soon as your body moves. “I am glad you were here… i fear if you weren’t-“
“Do not speak of such things!” Rhaenyra begs, her hands clutching your own tightly as if she was fearful you would drop dead. “I forbid it!”
“Do you say that as my future queen or as my friend?” You murmur, both knowing the true meaning of the word.
“I say that as both..” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing the top of your head as one of the ladies in waiting comes in holding the bundle containing your baby.
“It’s a daughter, my lady.” She says, walking over and placing her in your arms.
“She’s beautiful…” you can’t help but say, brushing away one of her curls from her eyes. You can feel Rhaenyras eyes on you, and so you take her hand and somehow manage to pull her closer.
“I wish to name her Arya.” You firmly say, locking eyes with your daughter who begins to cry in hunger.
“Beautiful…” Rhaenyra says, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of you beginning to breastfeed your child.
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Alicent Hightower:
Even while Alicent was married to the king, yours and hers unique relationship had never once wavered. When Alicent had her children with the king, who did not even enter the room when the time of birth came, it was you who held her hand in place of her mother’s, and murmured soft words of encouragement and affirmation into her ears.
While you had your own, even though your mother was there to be by your side as a place of comfort, it was only Alicent name that sprung from your lips. Begging for her to come closer so you can hold her hand and beg her for mercy and encouragements.
Most recently, your third pregnancy had been said by the maesters to be the most difficult one yet. Pain was all you knew through those last few months. Pain in your legs from when you were forced to walk to the dining hall. Pain in your belly from where not only did the baby insist on kicking but also from the cramps the maesters insisted did not need to be further looked at.
Yet Alicent was always close by ready to lend a helping hand whenever the moment allowed her too. According to her, she still has the old treatment the maesters had prescribed her with just in case she fell pregnant again after Daeron.
“You… my utter darling, are my world!” You moaned, eyes shut closed as Alicent carefully massaged the soothing ointment into the base of your feet. She continues to help whenever she can. The ointments and herbs she providing you with being much better than anything the dreading maesters could’ve ever given you.
Yet like most treatments, the effectiveness wore off. Soon, not even the most obscure of medicines would work on you. Pain was always lingering in every part of your body. Even in places you had no idea were on your body.
“I just want this babe out of me!” You groan one night while Alicent once again attempts to stop your pain using this time a supposed miracle working ointments from Lys. “Nothing is fucking working!”
“Well complaining won’t solve anything!” Alicent attempts to jest, though quickly haults any other further attempt after a harsh glare worthy enough to rival the Strangers is sent hastily her way. “Perhaps it is the gods way of telling you how strong you are for having this child? A way to tell you how powerful your son will no doubt be in the future?”
“I would not care if I was to birth a dragon for gods sakes I only with for it to come out of me so I can no longer feel so fucking horrible!” You groan, “I have already told my lord husband that this shall be my last time on that fucking bed! If he even brings his cock within inches of me it’s being torn off his body and fed to your children’s dragons my love!”
“Oh hush now!” Alicent scows, a rare bout of anger coming about her. “The gods have their meanings and their ways! Though I for once shall agree with you. You will be having three beautiful children my love, and that is all you need. Perhaps you could give birth to a daughter and we can betroth her to Aemond?”
“Perhaps…”
By the time the ninth moon has passed, it is quick to say that you were very much serious about this being your last child.
“GET THE FUCKING CHILD OUT OF ME!” You scream, the maesters wincing at the volume rivalling that of a child being born. Something your own child it seems is refusing to let happen. “RIP IT OUT IF MUST BUT IF I DIE I SHALL HAUNT THIS KEEP FOREVER MORE!”
“There shall be no talk of dying on this bed from you!” Alicent yells, her grip on your hands almost as tight as your hand on hers.
The maesters voices cutting through though as they announce how they can see the babes head. Meaning to much your relief the pain will hopefully be soon over and you can hold the thing that’s been hurting you for nearly nine moons in your arms to give it a stern talking off.
You make sure to push hard when the maesters tell you too, even pushing when they don’t so you could hopefully get the babe out quicker. But even when you feel the babe quite literally fall out of you and hear its cries, the maesters make their own cries far more audible.
“Alicent what is happening?!” You ask, feeling what feels like warm liquid gushing from your lower half. Only she does not respond. Only turning paler than the sheets that with horror, you realise are turning a deep red from blood. Your blood.
And It only turns worse when you realise just how faint you feel. A once iron grip you had on Alicents hand turning weak and feeble as your eyes slowly begin shutting.
It’s all a blur when you feel your body waking. Yet still your eyes have not grown enough strength to open, so it’s with great horror you realise you are still conscious but are practically unable to move. You are alive but it is as if your body is dead.
You can hear Alicent beg for your sake. And you realise with your heart beating frantically in your chest that you can also hear her hushing a baby you had not realised was crying this whole time. Your baby.
“Your mother is sleeping now…” You can hear her say, tears building in your eyes when you hear how damaged her voice sounds. “She is strong, your mother. She will wake and see what a beautiful baby boy she has waiting for her… it won’t be long now. I promise.”
You try as hard as you can to open your eyes, yet your attempts prove to be impossible. Yet somehow, you manage to utter two words to your lover while your lower half screams in pain at you.
“Thank you…”
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Daemon Targaryen:
It was no surprise to anyone when after a few mere moons after your marriage to the rogue Prince Daemon, you were announcing you were pregnant with his child.
The king had said his congratulations and announced a feast in his nephew or nieces name, and even Daemon had to admit the whole ceremony was wonderful.
Yet like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The announcement of the first babe of the rogue prince turned sour as news quickly spread about how much pain you were in from them.
The babe refused to let you rest for even a second. All it did was kick and kick, and make you feel shitter than any other possible ailment in the world. You almost felt like having a conversation with the stranger after one too many bouts of particularly bad spells.
“You must let your muña rest ñuha trēsy… let ñuha jorrāelagon rest…” Daemon murmurs one night against the swollen bulge of your stomach. The warmth his dragon like body providing you with being possibly the best thing he’s given you since the day you married him.
“You know I do not understand a single thing you say in that tongue of yours…” You say, eyes closed as you relish in the lack of kicking and blinding pain. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least obvious now that your child had chosen favourites.
“Just because you cannot understand something does not mean you cannot understand the beauty of it.” Daemon murmurs, his voice gentle and nurturing as he continues attempting to soothe you.
His words to others would be considered strange and out of character. But as you’ve come to realise over the time of your betrothal and marriage, even though that shared time has lasted around only a year, you know deep down beneath the hardened dragon scale skin of his is a heart that bears solely for the life of those he loves. The latest addition being of course the babe of his own blood nestled in your belly.
It was such a lovely moment, and yet it seemed that would be the last of its kind the rest of the time your babe was steadily growing inside. The more time passed the less Daemons unusually warm body worked in soothing your unrelenting aches and pains.
“Are you okay ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asks one evening, his brows furrowed in what has become a near constant state of stress and worry for you. For is has now nearly been a full nine moons of pregnancy, and with that, it means the babe will hopefully be born.
“Unless you can get this child out of me with no pain,” You grunt, mentally cursing Daemons cock for being what it was. “Then I suggest you leave me be and allow me to wallow with the seed you yourself placed within me!”
For the first time in a while, Daemons worried stricken face turns cheery as he laughs at the familiar wit of yours that helped him to fall in love with you in the first place. The rest of the day is filled with similar circumstances, as while the babe continues to make your days a misery, Daemon is right by your side never ever venturing too far away from you.
You suppose it is why he insisted on being by your side when two days pass and you were on the birthing bed, his hand locked firmly in yours while your screams echo off the walls. You swear you can feel your cunt tear and drip with blood, yet with how much you screamed you honestly couldn’t be able to hear it.
“Please Daemon!” You beg, a multitude of tears running down your face. “Please make it stop!”
“It’ll be over soon ñuha jorrāelagon…” Daemon tries to comfort you with soft words and a tight reassuring grip, and yet his face clear as day is struck with fear and nervousness.
“You said that hours ago Daemon!” You sob, screaming even more as you feel the dragon spawn within you break even more of your innards. “I just want it out!”
“You will my love you will! You are strong and brave and a fighter! You will not die today do you hear me!?”
Daemons hands envelope the sides of your head to force you to look and him, and yet he’s utterly horrified when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hand that was once clutching his shirt for dear life falls limply by your side.
Daemons words reach no bounds as he insults the maesters and common people alike, swearing if his wife was to die then all shall die with her. So even in the seven hells his wife can make sure she achieves the justice she deserves.
Yet it somehow enrages him further when by the next hour, the maesters have managed to successfully take out the babe from within you, and present it to him as his first born, whilst other maesters make quick work of stemming the bleeding and disposing of the evidence.
Daemons eyes watche as a wet nurse moves to take his son into her arms and takes him into another room so she can clean his son, and it’s not until they’ve left does he begin to shout.
“IS THAT ALL IT TOOK? MY WIFE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY ON THE BED, BLOOD POURING OUT, AND YET IT IS ONLY WHEN YOUR LIVES ARE THREATENED DO YOU HELP HER?!” He yells, his hand clutching the hilt of dark sister as a reminder that he has the upper hand. He’s the prince of the realm. The rogue Prince. If he wanted to kill people then he will fucking kill someone.
The maesters faces turn ashen as they stand there, practically shaking as they fear for their lives. Daemon is almost tempted to actually kill them. To send a message that no one fucks around with the rogue princes wife. That is however, until he hears a stir behind him and feels a familiarly soft hand clutch his own that previously had clutched dark sister.
“My love!” Daemon breathes, his face one of pure joy as he drops the sword hastily and moves to clutch your still weak body in his arms. “I was so worried!”
“What have you done with my Daemon?” He can hear you say, the laughter in your tone surprising considering what had just happened.
“Don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon, he was here a few moments ago, about to kill some pathetic fucking maesters…” Daemon begins, turning with a dark glare when he sees the said maesters still standing where they were before in fear. “But I suggest they scarper before dark sister becomes hungry for rat blood once more!”
This time, Daemon doesn’t turn back to watch them all practically run from the room. Not when there is someone in front of him so much more important.
“Where are they?” You say, your movements still sluggish as you wince while trying to turn your body to look around the room.
“Where is who ñuha jorrāelagon?” Daemon asks, preoccupied with finding the cup of milk of the poppy one of the maesters had said was somewhere in the room. A hum of satisfaction slipping his lips when he eventually sees it and grabs it, before placing it by your lips to try and force you to drink it.
“Where’s our baby?” You murmur, wincing again when the bitter taste of the drink runs down your throat. “I want to see them!”
“I will get him for you jorrāelagon.” Daemon says, moving to the direction of where the wet nurse had taken his son too. When he does find her, he does not care for whatever she has to say. Instead just moving to take the boy in his arms and walk back to you, who’s already sat up through the pain ready to see your son.
“Oh Daemon…” You breath, your eyes focused solely on the babe in his arms. “He’s beautiful…”
“He takes after you…” Daemon murmurs back. A soft smile on his face as he moves the boy into your arms. “What shall we name him my love?”
“What about Aenor? First of his name…”
“I love it…” Daemon murmurs, kissing the top of your sweat soaked head and moving to perch against the edge of the bed transfixed by the holy sight in front of him. “I love you…”
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Aemond Targaryen:
Your husband wasn’t anything except attentive. Every moment after finding out you were with child he spent within meters of yourself. Even when you slept, his hand was always placed on your stomach.
“I would never allow myself to live if you were hurt ñuha vēzos.” Aemond would murmur against your skin, amongst other Valyrian words this time against the curve of your slowly swelling belly. Each one sending your skin further and further aflame with desire and love for your husband.
The whole pregnancy though, for the most of it, was smooth and ordinary. The baby had begun to kick a little after the fifth moon of your pregnancy, and Aemond was eager to experience every part of it. Yet when you’d passed the eighth moon, that was when everything began to turn on its head.
Pain was blooming in your stomach nearly everyday, and even with the maesters having to forcibly pour milk of the poppy down your throat, you had resisted firmly, not wanting the babies health to be put as such risk especially so close to the due date. Especially when you have been in the presence of the king, who openly abused the opioid near daily.
Yet the maesters with stern eyes and unwavering faces, claimed that if anything, it was the pain inside you that would risk the babies health. So whilst you wished pain on the maesters, they stood there stiffly with a near full to the brim cup of the drink. They watched every time you were needed to drink it. Even going as far as to make you open your mouth wide to make sure you weren’t resisting.
Aemond though like he had done so earlier in your pregnancy, was never as far as an arms reach. He never said anything to maesters face to face, yet he certainly did not hide his anger from you when the two of you would lay in bed holding one another in a close embrace.
“If it weren’t for the babe, I’d strike them where they stand…” He’d begun to murmur. Starting his now usual evening moan about how according to him, they weren’t good enough to care for his pregnant wife. Sometimes it’s sad as you realise how he at his lowest points believes even he is not good enough for you.
“Don’t let that stop you…” You indiscreetly murmur back, a clear glare on your face as you try to drink something to wash away the bitter taste of milk of the poppy.
“Dont you tempt me now ñuha vēzos… I very much can and will make my way to wherever those men lie and slaughter them before it’s time to break fast tomorrow.” Aemond chuckles, a comforting hand on your stomach where near instantly you can feel the babe kick twice. As if the babe was eager to say hello to its father.
“That’s right ñuha valītsos… kepa is here…” Aemond murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your very spine. If you weren’t already eight moons pregnant, you very well would be eager to take him right at this moment and take his seed deep inside till it takes root.
“You are getting distracted valītsos…” Aemond says, smirking at the dark blush that spreads on your face. It matters not how long you’ve been married to Aemond for, since he’ll always manage to find a way to fluster him. You suppose it’s as fun for him as it is for you to fluster him. Though you suppose by doing that is how you ended up in this position in the first place…
“How can I not, when theres such a beautiful man in front of me?” You say, grinning triumphantly when Aemonds own face turns a light pink. It’s not as dark as your own, but even seeing Aemond blush without him trying to hide himself away counts as a win to you.
The two of you revel in the rare soft moment between you both, and it’s not long before you both fall asleep holding each other.
It felt so perfect at that moment, as all the previous worries about the babe swept away. The both of you honestly didn’t think the whole ordeal could get worse. That is however, until your waters broke and you were lying on the birthing bed. Your screams breaking Aemonds heart as he tries his best to comfort you to the best of his ability.
Yet his controlled anger and frustration comes out in waves as your screams continue further and further into the day, and the maesters it seems are no further to helping you than from when they started.
Aemond withholds every single urge to kill them for their insolence for your sake, given that they are supposedly they best men available to help bring his and your child into the world. Though when he sees your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp after attempting to push the babe out again per the maesters instructions, all hell broke loose there and then.
“What have you done!?” Aemond yells, his voice whilst commanding also torn with how scared he feels at that moment. His uncles wife, and his grandsires wives had died in childbirth attempting to bring a child into the world. He cannot have such a thing happen to you.
“You are meant to help my wife not fucking kill her! If she is to die today then so shall all of you! Your blood shall stain these walls if she dies do you all understand!” He yells, tears brimming in his eyes from how emotional he currently feels. Aemond refuses to let go of you hand as the maesters scurry around like rats to appease him.
It’s not long before the sound of a babes cry brings him from his sorrowful thoughts.
“It’s a daughter my Prince.” One of the maesters says, before handing her off to a nearby maid presumably to go clean her off of all of your blood and other bodily fluids Aemond most certainly does not wish to be thinking of right now.
Instead, Aemond chooses to grab a lone damp cloth free from any uncleanliness, and carefully uses it to wipe away the sweat on your face. Yet even with all of that Aemond still believes you to be as beautiful as when he first ever saw you.
The sound of your blood onto the floor that Aemond had tried to ignore for his own sake earlier finally stops, and he’s grateful that the maid comes back with his daughter then so he doesn’t have to think about any of that.
“I will give the baby to a wetnurse my Prince for her first feed.” The maid begins to say, about to walk away. That is however before she feels the princes hand clutching tightly on her shoulder forbidding her to leave.
“She will feed from her mother.” Aemond says firmly, moving to take his daughter away from the silly woman’s grasp. “‘Twas a decision me and my wife made and you shall respect that. Now leave.”
The maid stands there a moment surprised, even looking to the maesters for guidance in the situation. But when Aemond looks up at them with a cold glare on his face and a sneer on his lips, both the maesters and the maid make quick work on leaving the Prince with his daughter in his arms and his unconscious wife by his side.
He does not know how long it is till you finally begin to stir, and yet it does not matter. All that does matter is that you woke at all.
“How are you feel ñuha vēzos?” Aemond murmurs, his daughter in one arm as in the other he holds the cup holding the milk of the poppy he makes you drink. Making sure you don’t waste a drop.
“Like I’ve given birth…” You simply say, suddenly focusing on the baby in Aemonds arms. “Is that-“
“Yes ñuha vēzos. This is our daughter.”
Aemonds hands her to you, and when she begins to stir it’s almost instantly you bring down your dress and place her near your breast. Hissing slightly as she begins to immediately nurse from it.
“She’s beautiful.” You find yourself saying, refusing to take your eyes from her. “She looks like you sweet husband.”
“She may look like me but I believe she has her mother’s beauty.” Aemond says, moving to hold your hand in his. “What shall we name her my love?”
“What about Elaenor?”
“It’s perfect…” Aemond says, kissing the top of your head. “She’s perfect…”
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Jacaerys Velaryon:
It appears Jacaerys was ever as loyal as they say. As even after being married in an arranged fashion, and finding out you were pregnant with his child after consummating the marriage, his presence was never far from you.
When in the middle of the night sickness plagued your body, it was Jace who was right there next to you with a bucket in hand. Even going as far as to hold your hair back with his hand so no sick could ruin it.
“Is this what it is like for all women?” Jace asks, attempting to smooth you while you once again throw your dinner up into a bucket, groaning whilst you do so.
“Only the lucky…” You moan, about to turn to look at your husband before you find yourself immediately needing to throw up again.
At first, it was strange to you to have a husband be so close and eager to be by up side, given the stories that your mother had told you. Yet now, you honestly could not think of your marriage without the little services Jace provides you with.
Whenever you find yourself craving a certain food, no matter how bizarre or disgusting it may seem to him, Jace was always willing to call a maid and inform her to make it for you.
“Thank you husband.” You sigh in delight, chewing on some honey dipped carrots in the comfort of yours and Jaces bed.
“It is no problem my lady.” He says, awkwardly perched by the edge of the bed covers while he watches you eat.
“You can come closer Jace…” You laugh, patting the side of the bed indicating your want to have him closer to you. His warmth comforting. His smile kind. “You have seen me naked before. I do not think you have the ability right now to be shy. Call me by my name Jace. It is only fair since I have been calling you by yours.”
“Of course… wife.” Jace smiles, a strange girlish sounding giggle leaving your lips as he moves himself closer and opens his arms so he can enclose you in them. “Has the babe been bothering you much today?”
“Only as much as usual.” You sigh, choosing to invite his pointed stare in honour of eating another one of your special foods. “Though not as much as I have been eating these.”
“That is good.” He simply says, softly kissing the top of your head as he touches the skin of your arms with his hand. “That is good…” He repeats again more gentler than the last.
The next few months all went smooth as they could go. You were still throwing up in the mornings and some evenings, and experienced some horrible cramps once every few weeks. What was the most difficult and painful thing you had to endure however, was the birth of the babe itself.
It felt like it was ripping out of you. Screams pierced the air as it felt as if the babe was determined to take your insides out with it.
“It hurts!” You cry, holding Jaces hand so hard he has to hide any audible winces in pain, as whilst he is not the most experience man with women, he knew at that moment to not even think about saying his own pain. Not when he could tell his pain was like a mere headache compared to your own.
“It will soon be over!” Jace says, trying to squeeze your hand in an attempt to comfort you and let you know he is here. But with how much pain is flowing through your system he honestly doubts you can feel it right now.
“I just want it out!” You yell, screaming again as the maester intruders you to push. It’s almost like a rhythm, as when the maester tells you to push, you push. And when you push, you scream at the top of your lungs. It’s like that for what feels like hours and hours on end.
Yet soon, it’s finally over, as the maester finally steps away from you holding a crying baby. The maester looks at him, and shows him his crying daughter.
“A daughter my Prince.” The maester says, placing her in Jaces arms. Your husband’s eyes unable to tear away from the smallest child he thinks he’s ever seen. Possibly smaller than Joffrey from when he saw him as a child.
He turns to you to show you with a smile on his face, but that soon disappears when he sees your face.
“My love?” Jace begins, looking worriedly at your pale sweat layered skin. “You do not look well…”
You try to answer, and yet you even with all your strength you cannot even find yourself able to move your lips, your head even.
That though is when Jace turns his own head and sees the frantic moving of all the maesters and ladies in the room. It’s when he hears a most frightening of sounds. The sound of your blood falling and dripping onto the stone floor. It’s almost worse when he sees how deeply stained your dress is by your own blood.
He’s frozen as he stands there, completey horrified by what he’s seeing and hearing and yet he cannot find himself able to move. His daughter still in his arms, only it’s when she begins to fuss and make sound does another lady in waiting take her into her own arms to put her from the room.
The maesters are beginning to yell now. At the ladies in waiting mainly but to each other a handful of times too. They sound too loud. But that may be because Jace hasn’t said a word since you collapsed against a bed. He does not know what it is he should say. He does not know what it is he should do. His mother has insisted he be in the birthing room alone with his wife, and yet here he is standing alone in the middle of it looking like an idiot.
Yet while he’s thinking, it’s like some sort of driven force when he suddenly realises he’s been holding your hand. Your skin feeling cold and damp from sweat, and Jace stays there the entire time holding onto your hand and staring at you face. He commits to memory the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and the feeling of your heartbeat in his hand. He blocks out the sounds of chaos and panic, and chooses to focus on you.
Jacaerys slowly watches the colour bloom back into your face when the maesters finally manage to stem the flow of your blood and keep it inside you. Yet when he sees you open your eyes sluggish and exhausted, he cannot help but have his heart speed in happiness and joy. The smiles may have to come later though.
"My love, how do you feel?" Jace asks, still clutching your hand as he edges himself closer to you.
"Like l've given birth.." You simply say, even smiling as you slowly turn your head to look around the room. "Where is the babe?"
"She is with one of the ladies in the other room, if you wish me to fetch her I shall." He asks, watching as your eyes widen and your mouth fall open in what he can only say in a comedic fashion. Not that he'd dare mention that here though that is.
"We have a daughter…" You say, so silently that he barely even heard you. "Yes. Yes I want to see her!"
"I will go get the lady." Jace says, letting go of your hand for the first time in hours and admittedly as soon as he escapes your sights wipes the thick layer of sweat lingering on his hand on his shirt.
When he arrives back with his daughter in his arms though, he cannot help but smile as he watches your entire face light up at the sight of the babe with what could only be utter awe.
"We did that..." You say, reaching out and immediately rocking the small girl when she's in your arms. "We made her..."
“Yes…” Jace can’t help but agree with you, placing his hand on you as he sits beside you on the bed, watching you as you hold his and your child closely to your breasts. “We made her…”
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altruisticalastor · 9 months ago
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↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Summary: Vox proposed a deal of sorts. Your soul in exchange for keeping you safe. At the time, you didn't feel like you had any choice other than to accept. So, you did. You pawned your freedom over to the man who hated your husband most in this world. What could go wrong?
☒ Warnings: gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, angst! established relationship between reader and alastor, lots of cursing and hard feelings, not a happy ending, vox has a strong attatchment to the reader, one kiss (between alastor and reader), lots of tears
☒ Word Count: 2,158
☒ Part Two Part Three
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Ever since the day Alastor disappeared, life has been a living nightmare. Your lover left without a word. Which placed a gigantic target on your back as his spouse. You hoped that Alastor had a solid reason to go without telling you. But more than anything, you wished that wherever he was, he was safe. 
It would be a miracle if trouble didn't find you. But there were no such things as miracles down in hell. 
It didn't take long for Vox to find you. The surveillance cameras spread around the outskirts of hell were undoubtedly against you. You couldn't say you were surprised when being shoved into a van. Leading you directly to Vox Tec Headquarters. 
Vox proposed a deal of sorts. Your soul in exchange for keeping you safe. At the time, you didn't feel like you had any choice other than to accept. So, you did. You pawned your freedom over to the man who hated your husband most in this world. What could go wrong?
Well, your new living situation was difficult to adjust to. The other Vee's were cutthroat and heartless. Trying your hardest to get along with them proved to be useless. They didn't care to know you in the slightest. Not Velvette nor Valentino. However, Vox was an entirely different story. 
The man was uncharacteristically kind to you. Vox set you up with a private room specifically tailored for you. How he knew your favorite soaps and scents was beyond you. You figured it was best if you didn't know how exactly Vox came to know you like the back of his palm.
Vox always held a chipper tone with you. Going as far as disagreeing with the others to defend you when they spoke ill of you. You hardly understood why. What was his motive? A stranger's guess was as good as yours. 
As the years flew by, his kindness only grew. Vox made sure to check up on you at least once a day. He took pride in remembering the little details about you. Going so far as to bring you gifts after his outings, 'Just because.'
As much as you hated to admit it, you began to let your guard down with Vox. You started to accept his kind gestures with a smile on your face. Agreeing to hang out in his office while he worked. It became almost comforting to be in his presence. 
You hated yourself for it. You knew it was wrong. Alastor was your lover. But he also left you without a word, which caused a hint of resentment to grow within your heart. How could he drop you after everything? For a while, you hoped it was for a good reason. But seven years came and went, and not a single word from Alastor.
That was until you overheard a spat between Vox and Val. It was hard not to hear Vox's voice booming through the building. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you heard that your long-lost lover, Alastor, had been lodging up with the Princess of Hell for months now. 
He's been back for months. Months, and he hasn't had any concern to look for you. It stung worse than any other pain you've ever felt in life and death. How dare he discard you like a piece of trash? The resentment only flourished further in your bleeding heart. 
The moment Vox stormed out of Val's room after hearing the bad news, he was met with your teary-eyed countenance. His harsh glare softened the moment he saw your distressed state. In an instant, Vox surrounded your senses. His large palms rubbed your back in a comforting nature as he cooed at you. Vox whispered soft apologies into your hair as he allowed you to sob into his chest.
Your tears of sorrow quickly turned into tears of vexation. You begged Vox to get a car ready for you. You had to go to the Hazbin Hotel immediately. You just had to. It took lots of pleading to get Vox to agree. Your reminder of being on his leash eased his mind somewhat. Alastor may have owned your heart, but that was meaningless now that Vox proclaimed your soul.
The deal was no Vox Tech allowed on your person when you confronted Alastor. Vox grumbled in irritation from your stipulation, but he ultimately caved. It's not like you could flee from him even if you tried. 
Your hands shook as your knuckles came up to bang on the hotel door. Within a matter of seconds, the door flung open. You were greeted by the Princess of Hell herself. She had seemingly mistaken you for a demon who wished to be redeemed. Your frustration grew as she pulled you into the foyer, babbling nonsense. 
That's when a familiar voice rang through the open space. "Holy fuckin' shit. There's no way it's really you." Husk exclaimed before taking another swig of his cheap liquor. You immediately stormed toward the bar, ignoring the pretty fellow sitting on one of the stools. "Husk, where is he." Your voice was low and laced with malice. 
Charlie was so confused as she asked how you two knew each other. As was the spider demon that asked you who you were talking about. That's when you heard it. The familiar radio static crackle, calling your name. Something in your heart ached at the sound of Alastor calling out to you. It once brought you so much joy, but all that was left now was bitterness. 
"Uhh... how the fuck do they know, mister fancy talk creepy voice?" The effeminate fellow whispered over to Husk, who just shrugged him off. Not wanting to get involved in the slightest. You stormed over to Alastor, who stood at the base of the hotel steps. Before your mind could catch up, your body was quick to act. 
Your hand came up to strike across Alastor's face. But to no one's surprise, he caught your wrist before your palm collided with his cheek. "Careful now, my dear! That's no way to greet your husband after all this time!" An audible gasp filled the room. You heard the little whispers from behind you. But all you could focus on was the rage that bubbled up inside you. 
"You fucking asshole! How could you disappear without a word?" Your other hand balled into a fist before slamming against his sturdy chest. A small grunt escaped your husband from the harsh contact, but his crimson gaze never left yours. He slowly released your wrist, allowing you to beat your frustrations out on his chest until the adrenaline wore off. Quickly, that anger morphed into complete and utter sadness. 
Your balled-up fists shook as your body slumped forward. Your head sunk down, forehead colliding with Alastor's shoulder. "I waited for you, I..." A sharp sob wracked through your body. Your vision blurred as the tears spilled freely. Everything else melted away in that moment for you. The years of loneliness, anguish, and bitterness all came crashing over you at once. 
"Why don't we take this conversation elsewhere, my dear." Before you knew it, Alastor's shadows enveloped you. The scenery changed right before your eyes. Now, you were greeted by a large hotel room. Half of the space was overtaken by a beautiful woodland. The sound of the crickets chirping flooded your head. 
"I deserve an explanation, Al." You spoke through gritted teeth. Hastily wiping your tears. Alastor let out a deep sigh as he turned to face you. His signature smile wavered slightly as his eyes averted from yours. "It's rather complicated, my darling." He muttered, approaching you cautiously. 
Your eyebrows knit in frustration as you scoffed. "Really? That's your sorry excuse? You left me for dead. The least you could do was send a fucking postcard." You chuckled bitterly, crossing your arms. Alastor stepped closer, large palms grasping your shoulders. "I did not have a choice! Do you truly believe I haven't thought of you every second of every day since we last saw one another?" 
Alastor's voice was rigid as he met you at eye level. His look was pleading as he continued on. "I'm bound by my constraints. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't! I still can't!" His radio static fizzled out toward the end of his sentence. The look of stress spread across his face sent a pang of pain in your heart. 
You couldn't help but soften. You knew Alastor was being genuine, and it killed you to know something terrible had happened to him. Your shaky hands rose to your husband's cheeks as tears brimmed at your lash line. "Oh, my love... I should have had more faith, but-" The blood in your veins ran cold as you cut yourself off. The recollection of selling your soul to Vox suddenly flashed through your mind.
Alastor knew something was wrong. He slowly brought his hands down to rub your sides soothingly. "But...? What's troubling you, my dear." You could hardly look at him. Shame coursed through your veins as a sob escaped you. Alastor's crimson orbs swirled with worry as he awaited your response with bated breath. 
"I did something terrible..." You confessed, sniffling before you continued. "I... I made a deal with Vox. My soul in exchange for protection." Alastor's lips twitched, nearly foiling his smile. His grasp on your waist tightened as he took in a deep breath. "This is all my doing. He only targeted you to get under my skin..." Alastor muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. 
More tears trickled down your regretful face. There was no getting out of this. You knew Vox would never let you go. At that very moment, you heard a call of your name. Coming from the window. You read the clock, dread flooding your chest as you realized your time was up. 
"I-I have to go. Vox put me on a curfew." You stuttered, slowly retracting your hands from your husband's face. You smoothed out your clothing and wiped away the last remaining tears. Trying to mentally prepare yourself for the ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters. 
"Please, I beg of you- don't go..." Alastor pleaded, clutching your hand with his. Your lips trembled as he continued on. "I just got you back. I don't plan on giving you up this easily." Your heart ached. You hated yourself for making a deal with Vox, for letting your guard down, for ever doubting Alastor. 
Your eyes fluttered open as Alastor's lips collided against yours. The kiss was desperate, pleading as your husband tried his hardest to convey just how much you meant to him through the embrace. He pulled back slowly, admiring your face from close up. "You're just as exceptional as the day I left you, my darling. Chin up, my dear. I'll get you out of this deal no matter what!" 
All you could do was nod in agreement as a call of your name repeated. A bit more pointed this time around. You slowly pulled away from your lover, giving him one last look. "I love you, Al," You whispered as your back faced him. Your confession was barely audible, but your husband heard it. Loud and clear. 
"I love you, my dear. More than anything."
You ignored the hotel patrons as you quickly took your leave. You emitted a shaky breath before opening the car door. Vox welcomed you with a smile as you sat beside him. The chauffeur wasted no time pulling away from the run-down place. You meekly peered out of the car, catching a glimpse of Alastor from the second-floor window. 
Your heart shattered into a million pieces from the rare sight of your husband frowning as he watched you descend down the bleary road with a man he had not a care in the world for. 
"Well? What did that nobody have to say for himself?" Vox chuckled, grasping your hand with his. Your head whipped in his direction. It took everything in you not to yank your hand from his grasp. You had to play it smart, or you would be sorry. 
"Excuses on top of excuses... this was a mistake. I never want to see that liar again." It pained you to utter those words. You just hoped your act would be believable enough. Vox captured your chin with his thumb and forefinger. A wide grin spread across his monitor. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart. I'll do everything in my power to make sure Alastor never crosses your path, for the rest of your afterlife." 
A cold sweat blanketed your skin from his words. Anxiety spiking in your veins. Vox pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into a hug, soothing his large palm over your back. 
"That fucker needs to understand that you belong to me now."
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tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx
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wordsinhaled · 3 months ago
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thinking about payneland from the perspective of a pining charles having fallen first the night they met in the attic is wild because like
he meets this boy who is incredibly soft and kind to him, comforts him, protects him from being scared as he’s dying
and everything’s a bit hazy anyway and you know, why not, why not, why not. so charles is all, “i think i’d miss kissing. do you miss kissing? 👀”
genius really. except edwin is like, no
so charles is like ok, never mind, no worries, fine. just misjudged it a bit, didn’t i. not to worry. still, i really like spending time with you, let’s stay together forever, yeah?
he dedicates himself to being the best friend edwin could possibly ask for. edwin doesn’t seem interested in anyone in any way, really. maybe edwin’s just like, above all of those things. or doesn’t care for them. that happens! charles gets it! anyway edwin’s only the best person anyone could even imagine spending an afterlife with, so it doesn’t much matter
and for thirty years it really doesn’t matter, except in tiny moments when charles maybe lets a little too much adoration bleed into the looks he gives edwin, which is fine because edwin is giving him the same type of looks back and it doesn’t have to be anything, it’s just how they are. and if he sometimes has to shake himself to keep from staring at edwin’s bare forearms when they’re relaxing in the office, well. that’s not for edwin to worry about. it doesn’t matter what kind of love it is, charles feels them all for edwin and he knows edwin loves him too
but then they go to port fucking townsend
and suddenly it’s very clear edwin is capable of those types of feelings. of being flustered and lost in daydreams and shy around someone the way you are when you’re interested. edwin is doing all of those things - and it’s not directed at charles. it’s directed at monty. at the cat king
not that he should have presumed. after all edwin can and should go on and like anyone he wants. it’s his right and edwin certainly deserves his chance at happiness, after everything he’s been through. but there had been this tiny, tiny part of charles that had always thought “if edwin ever did have those types of feelings, they would be for me”
and all of a sudden it’s like. all of charles’ pining could actually come to fruition, except it won’t because edwin has somehow chosen monty and his astrology books. because some whiskery tosser has gotten his claws into edwin and much as charles postures he won’t dare actually pry them out because he doesn’t want to interfere in edwin’s fulfillment
charles is right here, has been right here for three decades - being content for the most part, except in fleeting moments when it got to him. and it would be fine if edwin simply chose someone else - natural even - but the part scrambling charles’ brain is that it feels like edwin hasn’t even considered him. never mind that charles has got an entire elaborate plan for how he’d court edwin if edwin ever gave a singular sign that he welcomed it. but instead edwin has chosen this time to wake up to his feelings and entirely overlook charles as a romantic prospect
charles is not going to be a miserable arse about it. he’s going to be supportive. he’s going to be nice to bloody monty because monty has apparently unearthed feelings in edwin. feelings edwin deserves to have. and if he’s honest, he has to give the lad some credit for managing to find a side of edwin charles has yearned quietly for for three decades in a matter of weeks - just by being forward with edwin in a way charles wouldn’t dream of trying
anyway imagine charles’ utter confusion and disbelief when edwin is all, “actually it is not monty i am in love with at all, but you, charles”
and charles is just like, “but i thought you and him were…? you said… i mean—you don’t even notice me that way!”
“i must assure you i do.”
and then he gets to have a kiss that he has waited for and hardly let himself want properly for thirty years
like……. PINING CHARLES, MY FRIENDS
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halfblackwolfdemon · 1 year ago
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Oh god, I love this so much!
Short DPXDC Prompts #921
During Bruce's multi year long journey in training to become The Batman, one of his teachers, a man his age, teaches him stealth and mechanics. Throughout the few months that Danny teaches Bruce Wayne, their relationship stops being mentor and mentee and far more romantic in nature.
#danny phantom x detective comics#dcxdp#dcxdp crossover#dpxdc#dpxdc crossover#previous tags:#they have a whirlwind romance that ends one morning when bruce wakes up and realises three months have passed and he has a mission#danny wakes up to find bruce standing outside their house surveying the road and comes up behind him to circle his hands around his waist#'you're leaving... aren't you?' 'yes. i'm sorry danny.'#'no you're not... but that's okay. you're doing what you think is right and i admire that. i wish you'd see it my way but that's okay.#i'll be here when you come to your senses.' and then they kiss and its sad and bittersweet and tender and full of love and bruce leaves#everything else happens as it happens and eventually he forgets. he gets consumed with his mission#he saves who he can and he loses who he can’t and he never lets himself think of what could have been#with justice and righteousness#of that cosy little house on the outskirts of that middle-of-nowhere town#eventually he finds himself a robin#and another and another#he works on building the batman and he works on building the justice league and eventually he finds he’s built a family#and eventually he finds himself content#one evening he's sitting at the head of the table where - for once - everyone has gathered for dinner#all smiling and laughing and tormenting each other#there's a swell of love in his chest and he thinks this is it. this is what danny meant. this is more important than being good.#and... and now what?#does he go back to find danny? all shy and tongue-twisted because what on earth are you meant to say???#danny would just give him one look and burst out laughing at his pink cheeks - which just makes him blush all the more#but it'll be just like he never left - they still slot together like puzzle pieces - different but part of a whole#thats what bruce dreams of doing#or does danny coming crashing in one night - hurt and bleeding and on the verge of passing out#like 'hey bruce how's it been? i was in the neighbourbood just thought I'd drop by' he wheezes grinning through bloodied teeth#still happy and laughing and lovely even through his pain. bruce can't help but fall for him all over again
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