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hotchscoffeecup · 9 months ago

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“Power Struggle”

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Reader

Rating: M

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: For months, you and SSA Aaron Hotchner have been toeing the boundary between romance and your careers. When the unsub that's been killing women in Michigan by way of replicating Zeus' punishments from Greek mythology takes you as his next victim, it's up to Hotch and the rest of the BAU team to find you before it's too late. Hurt/comfort and angst with happy ending.

Tags: graphic depictions of violence, reader kidnapped by unsub, blood, implied SA, nudity, electrocution, scarring, hospitals

“You’re telling me someone is out here killing people to recreate, what? Greek legends?” Sheriff McCullen’s brow pinches as he shakes his head.

“Legends are stories often loosely based on a real person or event to teach us a lesson. Mythology is based on supernatural or sacred lore and explains why things came to be. It’s a common mistake.” Reid speaks quickly and methodically, as if reciting from a textbook. “It’s straight out of the mythos,” he explains, his voice tinged with something akin to excitement as he approaches the whiteboard where photos of the victims had been pinned up for review. Using a ballpoint pen as a pointer, he taps the first image of the first victim. “Regina Manford, she was found tied to a boulder in Craig Lake State Park with her liver removed. Animal predation showed birds had pecked at her while she was still alive. In Greek mythology, Zeus did this to Prometheus to exact revenge on him after he stole fire to give to man.”

Reid moves on to the next victim, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did so. “Sarah Walters was found bound to an old water wheel that had been set on fire. Greek Mythology suggests this is a copy of Zeus’ punishment for Ixion.”

“And what did he do to deserve that?” asks the sheriff.

Reid’s lips form a tight line. “He was invited into Zeus’ home on Olympus. After attempting to seduce his wife, Hera, Zeus punished him by binding him to a wheel of fire cursed to spin forever toward the underworld. She might’ve smiled or even looked at him, and in his delusion believed she was a seductress deserving of punishment.”

“So, what? This guy sees himself as some sort of god?”

“We believe that is his delusion, yes,” answers Emily. “Each victim also bore signs of sexual trauma, this is something Zeus is also renowned for in the mythology. Our unsub thinks he’s infallible and that these women’s lives and deciding when and how these women live and die is his divine right.”

“Do we know if there will be more victims?” asks one of the detectives.

You step forward from your place between Morgan and Hotchner. “Given the number of victims Zeus punished within the mythology, we can assume he is not finished. These kills are two weeks apart. It’s been twelve days since the last body was found. We can only assume he’s currently hunting for his next victim. And when he finds one, he convinces her to go to a second location. It's once they leave the primary location that he attacks. In each case, the victim suffered a blow to the head, leaving a uniquely shaped gash in her forehead. This suggests that he strikes them with a distinct blunt object or even a ring that’s on his hand.”

“We need every man out on the streets,” Hotch states, his eyes hard as he scans the group of law enforcement gathered to receive the profile. “He stalks his victims in the city, often on the weekends when night life is busiest. He’s charming. He has no problem approaching women because he views himself as a deity and carries himself with the arrogance and confidence of one. He’s white, in his early to mid 30s, good looking, charming, and likely has a career that would’ve provided him with medical training.”

A female detective with short blonde hair sticks her pencil in the air. “How do we know that?”

“The incisions made on Regina’s body were clean, precise, and showed no signs of hesitation,” explains Rossi. “The M.E. also informed us that the hepatic artery was clamped off, meaning,” Rossi hesitates before continuing on, “meaning Regina Mansford was alive as her liver was being cut from her body.”

An uncomfortable murmuring breaks out. Hotch raises a hand, silencing them. Your mouth goes dry and you swallow, hoping your team doesn’t notice the way your eyes dilate when you look at him and the silent way in which he can command a room.

“This is why we need every available officer on the streets. Increase units in the downtown area. Have plain clothes officers on the streets. That’s where we’ll be. Thank you.” Hotch tucks his head and sweeps out of the bullpen, the rest of the team trailing after him into the conference room.

“Where do you want us?” asks Morgan as you shut the door to the conference room.

“Reid, I want you here working the geographical profile. See if there’s anything we missed that could bring us closer to a precise location where he’s kidnapping his victims. Rossi and JJ, I want you to go back to Sarah’s apartment and see if we missed anything that tells us where she was exactly on the night she was kidnapped. Derek and Emily take the north side of downtown.” He inclines his head toward you. “You and I will take the south side.”

His eyes linger on yours a moment longer than they ought to have. You dip your head and swiftly exit the room, jacket in hand as you prepare to brave not only the frigid Michigan cold but working one one-on-one with Hotch. This had been going on for months; subtle looks, brief touches where his fingers would slide over yours while passing off a case file…yet a part of you still wasn’t sure if it would ever go any further than that. You spend so much of your time with the team, it would be so easy to mistake one gesture for something that it wasn’t. Yet you knew that wasn’t true. You know behavior. You’re trained to recognize the subtlest of shifts in demeanor and body language and you know exactly what is going on.

You jump as someone pushes through the front door of the precinct. Emily’s gentle laugh disrupts your rumination. “Sorry,” she says, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She moves to stand closer to you as she zips her jacket. “The guys went to grab the cars.”

You nod and shove your hands in your pockets.

Emily arches a perfectly manicured brow. “What’s up?”

You school your expression and feign nonchalance. “Nothing, I just want to catch this guy before he hurts anyone else.”

Emily’s brow furrows and then straightens, a glimmer of knowing in her eye. “Something tells me there’s a different guy on your mind.”

Your heart skips a beat and you nearly choke on the crisp winter air. “What? I don’t—“ Your words falter as Derek and Hotch arrive, the SUVs humming to a gentle stop at the curb.

Emily eyes you, a sly smile curving one side of her red lips. “We’ll talk later.” She winks and steps forward to open the passenger side door, sliding inside and disappearing into the dark interior.

As you turn to move toward the SUV, Hotch is there, opening the door for you. The gesture surprises you, but it shouldn’t. He’d been doing little things like this for weeks now. You nod your head in thanks and as you turn your body to slide past him, his hand catches your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat as his fingers glide against the small of your back, guiding your movement into the vehicle.

His hard eyes meet yours as he shuts the door and you’re grateful for the shadows inside the car as you feel your face flush bright red. Hotch slides into the driver’s seat with ease. He shifts the car into gear and pulls onto the road, heading in the direction of downtown.

After a few minutes, you open your mouth to disrupt the silence, but his cell rings. Hotch answers and places it on speaker as JJ’s voice floats through the receiver, “Hotch, we think we’ve got something at Sarah Walters apartment.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

“There’s a sticky note in her trash can,” a garbled sound echoes through the speaker as she shifts the phone. The sound of paper crinkles as she reads, “Tony’s at 9, does that mean anything? Has Garcia come across a Tony in any of her research into the victims’ lives? Maybe an Anthony?”

An image of a neon sign flashes across your mind’s eye. “It’s a bar,” you say matter-of-factly.

“A bar?”

“I remember seeing the sign on our drive-in. It’s a bar on the south side of downtown. That could be where he’s meeting these women.”

“We’re only a few blocks away, we’ll head there now. Thank you, JJ.” He hangs up and slips the phone into his jacket pocket.

“How do you want to play this?” you ask.

“We go in, make observations, see if we can identify anyone that matches the profile.”

You smirk and a small laugh escapes your lips.

“Something funny?” Hotch asks, his voice low in his throat.

You purse your lips, pausing before you proceed. “If we go in looking like feds, we’ll scare this guy away.” You tilt your head, considering. “Well, one of us anyway.”

A slight twitch in his brow is the only indication your words have just barely gotten under his skin. “Touched a nerve, sir?”

As the traffic light ahead blinks red, he eases the car to a stop. He breathes out slowly, the amber glow of the stoplight reflecting in his eyes. In less than two heartbeats, he thrusts the car into park and with both hands clasps your face, drawing you in to kiss you with such fervor white spots dot your vision. It takes a moment to process the heat of his mouth on yours and the way his tongue slides between your lips, and before you can truly reciprocate the light turns green and he pulls back, his breathing ragged against your mouth as his forehead touches yours. “Be careful when and how you choose to call me sir.”

Before you can exhale, his eyes are on the road again and you’re driving deeper into downtown.

“Understood,” and then you add, almost imperceptibly, “sir.”

A small smile quirks at the corner of his lips, but he says nothing more as you approach your destination.

It's nearing 9:30pm when you pull up on the street parallel to Tony’s. People trickle in and out of the bar in groups of twos and threes; most are young, in their mid to late twenties.

“Right,” you say as you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to exit the vehicle. “Stay here.”

“Excuse me?” Hotch asks, reaching over your lap and grabbing your wrist to stay your hand from popping the door open. Your breathing stills and he just barely turns his face toward yours. “Since when do you give me orders?”

Unsure where the confidence to challenge him comes from, you lean in near his ear. You swallow once before speaking. “I think you like taking them.” Feeling incredibly brazen, you nip at his ear once and as the unexpected gesture disarms him; flick your wrist out of his grasp and pop the door open. You slide out of the car and are immediately greeted by the frigid January air eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. Extending an arm overhead to hang on to the frame of the SUV; you lean down into the cab of the vehicle. “I’ve got you right here,” you say as you tap the hidden earpiece. “Let me know if you see anyone from the outside that fits the profile.”

Hotch eyes you and there’s a fierceness in his gaze. You wonder if he’s thinking of how he’ll ultimately retaliate for your little role reversal now that he’s gone and upped the ante in this little game of cat and mouse. “See you soon,” you wink and slam the door shut.

As you approach the bar, you make sure your coat is buttoned in a way that hides your sidearm and credentials from sight. The bouncer doesn’t even pretend to ask for an ID as you approach and move through the front door with ease. As you cross through the threshold, your senses are assaulted by the smell of beer on tap, the sharp tang of liquor, grease, and an amalgamation of perfumes and colognes.

Immediately you begin scanning the room. You note the layout of the bar: three exits for patrons, the one you just came in through, one near the bathrooms for cigarette smokers, and an emergency exit on the far right wall near to the kitchen. There are three pool tables all of which are occupied as well as three dart boards along the far wall. Groups of friends engage one another and dates carry on without a hitch. You approach the bar, which is centered along the far wall. Stools line the high countertop and behind the bar, two women work to fulfill the never-ending drink orders. You approach the bar and slide into one of the empty seats, relaxing your shoulders as you do so, and order a rum and coke that you don’t plan on drinking.

After a moment the bartender drops a cocktail napkin in front of you and places the drink on top. You thank her and stir the contents of the drink with the swizzle stick popped inside.

“Is this seat taken?” an unfamiliar voice causes the hair on the back of your neck to prickle and you know immediately that it’s him.

Painting on a saccharine sweet smile, you turn toward the voice. A white man, standing at about 6’2”, is smiling down at you. The neon lights behind the bar reflect in his blue-gray eyes and his honey blonde hair falls in soft waves to his shoulders. “Please,” you say demurely and gesture toward the seat. You tell him your name and continue smiling.

“Ronan Carlson,” he introduces himself as he slides in beside you and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket, a fake Rolex peeking out from his sleeve. He’s preening, you think to yourself. The bartender approaches from behind the bar and he smiles, the curve of his lips the opening act of his charming performance. “I’ll have what she’s having, thank you.” He pulls a roll of cash from the inner pocket of his jacket, flips through several bills, and pulls a $100 bill free before sliding it across the counter to her.

The bartender’s eyes widen in surprise and he winks at her. She nods her thanks and turns to make his drink.

“That was very kind of you,” I say, stirring my drink for the thirteenth time.

He shrugs and tips the baseball cap he’s wearing down over his eyes and you know it’s to obstruct the view the cameras have of him. “It’s only money, and I think I may have made her night.” He inclines his head toward the bartender whose head is bent close to the other woman’s. She’s smiling wide and shows her the $100 bill.

Internally, you roll your eyes hard, but externally you smile and look at him from beneath your lashes. “You must have a great job, what do you do for work?”

His hand flexes as he sets his drink down on the counter and you note the two chunky platinum rings he wears on his right hand. There are symbols etched into them offset by different colored stones, but you don’t want him to catch you staring as he answers, “I’m in business for myself these days,” he says with no further explanation. “Though I used to be in the military.”

You feign surprise, though you were hopeful he’d continue to divulge information. “The military, wow. Let me guess,” you pause and allow your eyes to slowly scan him from head to toe. You remember the profile. “Army…medic.”

“Reign it in,” you hear Hotchner’s voice through the earpiece. “Be mindful of how much you reveal to him. Don’t let him know you know more about him than he’s letting on.”

You watch him assess you and your read into him. One blonde brow creeps up toward his hairline and that wicked smile curves his lips again. “Excellent guess, how do you figure?”

Leaning on to your forearms, you push your drink aside and slide your hand over his and you don’t miss the way his fingers tense at your touch.

“It’s the hands,” you say coyly. “You look like you know how to handle yourself.” He relaxes under your touch and a heat ignites in his eyes that makes your stomach churn, but you don’t let it show on your face. “You look like you know how to handle a lot of things.”

He licks his lips and turns the ring on his finger. “Tell you what,” he says as he picks up his drink. He places the glass to his lips and downs its contents. “Why don’t we get out of here?” He looks down at you from beneath dark lashes. “And I’ll show you just how much I can handle.”

You stand up and flash him a grin. “Let me quickly freshen up and I’ll meet you out front.”

His lips quirk into a smirk, “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.”

You smile as you slip away toward the bathroom. As you push through the crowd you inform Hotch that the unsub is on his way out.

“There’s a line growing out the door,” he answers over the earpiece. “Does the description match the profile?”

“To a T,” you answer as you push past a couple with their tongues in each other's mouths. The amount of patrons has increased dramatically over the last hour. The volume of the music makes it hard to hear through the earpiece. You push your way into the restroom and are surprised to find it empty. Fortunately, the outside noise is muffled. You begin to describe Ronan’s appearance and note the jacket and hat he’s wearing. “He’s wearing two oddly shaped rings,” you add. “I think it’s what’s caused the unusual injury to the victims’ faces.”

“I’ve got him. He’s cutting through the line toward the parking lot.” You hear the car door open and slam.

“Got it, I’ll be right there.”

“Good work,” Hotch says over the open line.

You smile to yourself as you unbutton your jacket, glad to be on the receiving end of his praise. For a split second you wonder what else you could be on the receiving end of if you continue to play this game with him. After the case, you remind yourself. Priorities. Priority number one is getting this sick bastard off the street, and he’s right here within your grasp. You shoulder the door as you reach for your gun, positioning your thumb over the rotating hood to dislodge your weapon from its holster.

Over the speakers, an employee is calling to celebrate someone’s birthday. The crowd is distracted and pushing toward the source of celebration. The bar erupts into an off key rendition of Happy Birthday but you don’t hear it as 30,000 volts of electricity course through your veins. Your muscles spasm and lock up as you fall forward. Pain radiates from your abdomen in waves that crash over you again and again. You try to tell your body what to do as strong arms catch you and pull you into a chest that smells like cigarette smoke, but your limbs don’t cooperate. You feel his nose root into your hair as his lips find your ear. “How’s that for capable?”

As he shoulders your weight and steers you out through the emergency exit you hear Hotch’s voice in your ear. “It’s not him!” There’s an edge of panic in his voice as he says your name. “Do you copy? It’s not him. He gave another man $500 to wear his hat and jacket into the parking lot. It’s not him. Do you have eyes on him?”

Dark spots the edges of your vision as he drags your dead body weight. You try to focus all of your ability on getting out any words that can signal to Hotchner what’s happening, any at all but your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton.”

You hear the tinkling of keys and a door slide open. Pain rattles through your skull as he throws you into the back of whatever vehicle he’s operating. Pain slices through your wrists as zip ties slice through the skin there. Through tunnel vision you see him leering at you. He’s backlit by the streetlights.

As his fist flies toward you, you finally manage one word.

“Aaron.”

•

When you come to, the first thing you feel before the splitting pain in your head threatens to cleave your mind in two, is cold.

Your mouth is dry, but as you move to lick your lips you realize you can’t because there’s a gag in your mouth. You try to move your hands, but they’re bound too. Zip ties cut into each wrist, securing them at your sides on the legs of a wooden chair. When you try to shift the chair, you learn that it’s bolted to the floor and your legs are spread open; zip ties at your knees and ankles keep them apart. Except for your bra and underwear, you’re naked. He undressed you. You feel the wound from the stun gun before you glance down at your stomach and see the two bloody pinpricks in your abdomen. You feel your heart rate increase as panic begins to set in. Do not panic , you tell yourself as you take a steadying breath. The minute you start to panic, you’re dead. You close your eyes and piece together the last dredges of your memory.

Tony’s. Sitting at the bar. The unsub. Ronan. Hotch was in pursuit. And then there was just pain.

Hotch.

The pain in your skull is overwhelming and you’re not sure if you can feel the earpiece anymore.

“Hotch,” you attempt to say through the gag. “Hotch, do you read me?”

You close your eyes as hot tears brim along your lash line when there’s no response. The signal is out of range or the unsub found the earpiece and removed it.

A door creaks open on squeaky hinges and your eyes dart toward the source of the sound. Ronan walks through the door with a sick smile on his face. As he saunters toward you, he rolls the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows. Without looking away from you, his arm drops to his side and he scoops a folding metal chair with one hand, carrying it with him as he edges closer to you.

You flinch as he cracks the chair down in front of you, forcing it open. He chuckles as he takes a seat. His eyes skirt the length of your body and you wish any limb were free to deliver a blow to his smug face.

He reaches into his back pocket and withdraws your badge. He flips it open and holds it up to your face, the way his eyes flit between you and your credentials makes your lip curl.

“An FBI agent,” he says slowly. He slaps your credentials shut against his denim-clad thighs. “Hot damn!” he shouts and whoops. He throws your badge to the wayside and it clatters against the cement floor. “I’m going to take my time with you.”

It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been minutes. The torture is unrelenting and the pain is unending. Your chest heaves as you brace yourself for the next surge of electricity. Ronan, if that’s even his real name, twists the knob on the amplifier and taps the jumper cable clamps in his hands together. He smiles when he hears the buzz of electricity between them. As he presses them into your thighs, you cry out in pain as the shockwaves paralyze your body and mind and the pain overwhelms you.

“YES!” he roars as he pulls them away from you. He’d taken his flannel off, but now he peels off his t-shirt, balls it up, and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face.

With the voltage no longer coursing through your veins, you slump forward, chest heaving as your scrambled brain fights to stay alert.

He drops the cables and clasps your face in his hand, forcing your chin up to meet his wild eyes. “You just don’t quit, do you? You're special.” He strokes your cheeks with his thumbs as if he cherishes what he’s doing to you. “You are worthy of a god.”

When you come to Ronan is watching you. He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, chin resting on his clasped hands.

“She wakes,” he muses.

You glare at him and his brow pinches. He purses his lips together like he’s been stung, but his eyes are alight with amusement.

“You,” he says, gesturing up and down your body, “look beautiful.”

You don’t need to look down to know the number of bloodied burn wounds spanning the lengths of your legs. If you couldn’t keep track of any other thought, the count was all that kept you grounded. There were ten. Five on each leg. Your wrists and ankles bled from the way you’d pulled against them with every shock he delivered.

He reaches forward and this time you don’t flinch. He hooks two fingers into the gag and pulls it down over your chin, his fingers trailing your lips as he does so.

“Here,” he says, bringing a bottle of water to your lips. “Drink.”

You clamp your lips shut and turn your face away. He laughs and shakes his head. “Come on now, don’t refuse me. That’s not how you show gratitude when a god shows you mercy.”

You muster as much hatred into your stare as you focus your attention back on him. “Mercy?” you hiss, and your voice is hoarse from screaming against the gag. It hurts to speak. You pull against your restraints. “This is what you call mercy?”

“I’m only testing you to see if you’re worthy,” he says by way of explanation. "You've lasted longer than the others."

“Worthy of what?” you ask, but you already know the answer.

“To be my Hera.”

“How is what you’re doing to me, what you did to those other women, going to help you find her?”

“They weren’t worthy,” he answered. “They couldn’t take my power like you could, my lightning. They were false. They needed to be punished.”

He leans in, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel his smoky breath on your skin. “But you, you deserve to be rewarded.” Your skin bristles at his words. His lips find your jawline and you grimace as he drags them up the side of your face. When he pulls away, dried blood flakes onto his skin.

“Don’t be afraid,” he soothes as he smoothes your sweat-drenched hair away from your face. “You’ll enjoy it.”

Unable to suffer any more of his poisonous bullshit, you rear your head back and slam it forward. Pain explodes behind your forehead, but it’s worth it to hear the satisfying crunch of his nose breaking. He roars in pain and clutches his bleeding nose. White light blinds you as he backhands you and curses your name. His ring splits the skin of your cheek open. The force of the blow causes you to bite your lip and you feel your teeth cut into the chapped skin there. You spit blood at him, angering him further.

“You are false!” he screams, spittle flying from his mouth as he shoves the gag back into your mouth. “You are not her!” He moves to pick up the jumper cables, twisting the knob of the amplifier all the way up causing the bulbs overhead to flicker. You know this is it. If he touches you with those, it will kill you.

Bracing yourself for the killing blow, you go to the grave knowing you did not give in to this bastard.

It never lands.

Instead, three shots ring out and he’s falling to the floor dead at your feet. As the unsub’s body falls, Hotchner’s frame comes into view and a choked sob escapes your lips. He holsters his weapon and runs to you. Emily and Morgan are right behind him. Morgan passes Hotch a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and he makes quick work of the zip ties binding you to the chair. From the corner of your eye, you see Emily turn off the amplifier and check Ronan’s pulse.

Unable to hold yourself up, you fall forward into his ready arms, letting yours fall over his shoulders. Hotch drops to his knee to support your weight. “You’re okay,” he says as he pulls the gag free from your mouth and you sob into his chest. He smooths your hair back from your face, his eyes assessing the damage done to you. Blood stains his shirt, your blood.

“Morgan, your jacket.” Hotch orders.

Without hesitation, Morgan unfastens his bulletproof vest and unzips his jacket. He passes it to Hotch who drapes it around your shoulders in an attempt to preserve some of your modesty.

“I need a medic!” he shouts before directing his attention back to you.

Your eyes waver as you try to keep them open. You lock in on the depths of his warm brown eyes. “You’re going to be fine,” he says but his voice sounds far away.

“He wanted someone to be his Hera,” you say weakly.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Hotch soothes.

You swallow and it hurts your throat to do so. Your lips crack open, “You found me.”

Hotch cradles your head against his chest. “Of course I did.”

You wince as the sound of a gurney crashes into the room, the metal wheels squealing as it draws near. Your head swims as you’re swept into the air and laid out on its cushiony bed. A light shines in your eyes and voices are overlapping. Blindly, you use what strength you have left to drop your hand off the side. Unable to focus your attention on where he is, you know he’ll hear you. “Don’t leave me.”

And as you lose consciousness, you feel his hand slip into yours.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

•

A steady beeping fills your ears as you slowly come to. Your eyes feel bruised and you don’t think you have it in you to open them, but you feel something around your wrists and bolt upright. Pain crashes over you in a wave. It was a dream. You’re still bound in that basement. The beeping increases, growing louder and faster. Someone says your name and you feel hands on your shoulders. You try to swing your fist and are surprised when your arm follows through and makes contact with flesh. Did you break through the zip ties? You hear your name again, clearer this time. A man. He’s asking you to stop, to relax.

“It’s me,” he repeats and says your name again. “You’re safe. You’re in the hospital.” He says your name again. “It’s me, it’s Aaron.”

You stop fighting and blink hard. Hotchner’s stern face comes into view, except there’s concern wavering in the depths of his brown eyes. His brow softens as you relax. A small smile turns the corners of his lips. “Hey there,” he says. A nurse rushes into the room and he raises a hand, “We’re fine, here. Thank you.”

The nurse looks at you and you nod. She looks unsure about leaving but ultimately relents. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake.”

Aaron cups the back of your head in one of his hands and gently begins to lower you back down onto the pillows behind you. You allow him to guide you and feel the tension ease from your muscles as your back sinks into the surprisingly plush hospital pillow.

As the adrenaline wears off, you’re finally able to take stock of your injuries as the pain quickly makes itself known. You feel your pulse beating in your skull, pounding at your temples, eyebrow, and cheekbone. With shaky fingers, you touch the places where you remember the unsub striking you. You feel a thick bandage taped over your right eyebrow and steri-strips over your cheek. Your lip is swollen from where you bit it.

Bandages encircle your wrists and there’s an IV stuck in your hand. You’ve been dressed in a hospital gown and the sheets are drawn up to your waist covering the burn wounds. You don't have to see them to know how bad they look. The pain is telling enough.

“Is he dead?” you ask, lowering your hand back down to the bed.

Hotch’s lips form a tight line. “Yes.”

You blink back tears as that information sinks in. “Good,” you whisper in a choked voice. You blink and allow your head to loll to the side. A colorful bouquet of roses and carnations dotted with plastic ladybugs and butterflies sits in a clear vase on the side table.

You smile, “Garcia?”

Hotch smiles in turn. “It was tough to convince her to go home and get some sleep, but I promised her I wouldn’t leave you alone. Even then, it was still a hard-fought battle.”

You chuckle and wince as the movement irritates your injuries.

Hotch telegraphs his next move, and you know it’s to avoid startling you. He cups his hand over your uninjured cheek and strokes the skin there with his thumb.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, and his voice sounds tired and pained. “I should’ve gone inside with you.”

“Hotch, don’t.” You reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist. “Don’t do that to yourself. He didn’t know I was with the FBI until after he took me. If you’d been there, he might’ve pegged us as law enforcement and taken off. He might still be out there and we’d be finding another dead woman in a matter of days. You know I’m right.”

Hotch closes his eyes and heaves a heavy sigh. “I could hear you.”

“What?” you whisper. You try to sit up and wince as the movement stings the wounds in your legs and abdomen. Hotch stands and helps adjust the pillows behind your back before sitting back down in the chair at your bedside.

“Not for very long. He drove out of range, but I heard him speaking to you. I heard the blows land. I heard your head smack against the floor when he threw you in the van.” He stops and shakes his head. “I felt so helpless. I was afraid. I couldn’t get to you, just like,” his voice catches in his throat. “just like I couldn’t get to Haley.”

Your heart breaks for him as he speaks. You reach for his hand and take it, squeezing it. “Aaron, you did get to me. You saved my life.”

He clears his throat and swallows. “Yes, but we were almost too late.”

“But you weren’t,” you state, your tone firm. “Aaron, look at me.”

He hesitates and inhales deeply before lifting his gaze to yours. The corners of his eyes soften as he meets yours and you smile. You gently tug his hand, “Come here.”

Hotch glances toward the door and then back at you, “The doctor—“

“Isn’t going to do shit,” you finish. “I’m the one that endured hours of torture. Pretty sure I’m allowed some close comfort.”

He lets out a shallow laugh. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Standing, he shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair. With one hand he loosens his tie until he’s able to pull it up and over his head. He tosses it onto the chair and circumnavigates the bed, assessing the best way to join you on the small mattress.

You groan as you slide over. Hotch reaches out to stop you but you silence him with a pointed look. “Mind the IV,” you say as you pat the space beside you.

Hotch acquiesces, using the tips of his fingers to raise the IV drip enough for him to slide into bed beside you. He slips an arm around you and drops the feed. It falls across his torso. The feel of his arm around you is comforting, like a security blanket, like safety. You relax into him, and rest your head on his chest. His lips brush against your bandaged brow.

“Not quite how I imagined we’d first be sharing a bed,” you joke softly as you nuzzle in deeper against the wide plane of his chest.

You feel him smile against your hair. “Only you could joke at a time like this.”

“If I can’t laugh at what’s happened, I’ll never be able to close my eyes at night.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” He rubs the bare skin of your arm in small circles. “I’ll be there until you can.”

You turn your head to look at him then, your heart full. This is happening. His eyes are on yours and you push yourself toward him ever so slightly. He closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours. It wasn’t hungry and primal like the kiss in the car. There would be plenty of time for that later. This kiss was light, tender…healing.

“Sir, I’m sorry. I tried to go home, I really did but as soon as I got there I—” Garcia’s voice abruptly cuts off. You look up and her initial look of surprise turns to one of abject joy.

You feel your cheeks flush as Emily and Morgan appear in the doorway behind her. Morgan’s eyes widen and Emily’s brow arches as a smile curves her lips.

“I, uh, brought backup.” Penelope giggles. She remembers she’s holding something. “And cookies! I couldn’t sleep, so I baked. I figured I could bribe you into going home and getting some sleep.” Her words leave her mouth at a mile a minute. “I thought you’d fight me on it, so I brought some muscle.” She gestures with a tilt of her head. “They’re the muscle.”

Morgan exhales and points a finger at you and Hotch. “Can someone explain to me what’s going on here?”

Emily elbows him and he drops his arm. She takes the tray from Garcia and walks it over to the side table where she places it next to the flowers. She winks at you as she turns back to Garcia and Morgan. “It’s about time,” she says.

Penelope laughs as she hooks her arm in Emily’s. “What's it been? Two, three months?”

Morgan guffaws. “Months?”

Penelope pats his face with a ring-adorned hand. “My sweet oblivious profiler. Come on, hot stuff.” She takes him by the hand and leads him from the room. Emily shakes her head and laughs. “Men.”

“Safe to say the team knows.”

Hotch releases a breathy laugh and kisses your forehead again. “I know what will be the first thing on the agenda at tomorrow’s debriefing.”

•

6 weeks. It had been 6 weeks since you’d pressed the elevator button that would bring you back to the office. The weight of your gun feels right where it sits upon your hip, your gait more familiar to you now than when it wasn’t holstered to your side. You nervously adjust the grip on your go bag. You’d packed and repacked it the night before.

This morning as you were getting out of the shower, you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your cheek had healed nicely though the skin on your brow that had been split by the unsub’s ring had scarred, severing the tail end of your eyebrow from the rest of it. The ligature marks around your wrists and ankles had healed and the skin was smooth once more. The stun gun had scarred your abdomen, but all that remained were two purple pinpricks of scar tissue no bigger than the size of an infant’s thumbnail.

Your legs are a different story. The front of your thighs are an array of mottled scar tissue. One burn had gone so deep that they’d needed to graft skin from your calf to salvage it. The wounds no longer hurt physically, but you’d woken up from nightmares on more than one occasion.

You were never alone though. Garcia worked remotely on secure laptops with VPNs as often as she was able. Rossi brought you home-cooked Italian at least twice a week and talked with you over numerous glasses of red wine. Reid brought black-and-white foreign existentialist films that you didn’t understand, but his enthusiasm as he watched made you happy all the same. Emily and Morgan brought coffee and donuts as often as they could and Hotch…if he wasn’t at the office or visiting Jack, he was with you. On several occasions, he brought Jack. Jack would sit on the bed beside you, playing with his toys, narrating the adventures of his action figures as Aaron stood in the doorway, smiling. At night, when you had woken in a cold sweat, Aaron was there with a washcloth to wipe it away. When the bandages had stuck to your burn wounds and it felt like your skin was being peeled apart, he got your pain medicine and helped change the dressings, holding you until the pain had passed.

You blink as the elevator dings, signaling you’ve reached your destination. You take a deep breath and smooth down the front of your blouse as the door opens wide. Everything looks the same, yet everything feels like it's changed as you approach the desk you occupy perpendicular to Emily’s. A smile crosses your lips as you see the Welcome Bac k card on your desk. Two vases of flowers sit behind the card. One is almost exactly like the one from the hospital so you know it’s from Garcia. The other, a bouquet of purple tulips, has a note attached to it. You open the note and read it.

Glad to have you back. Things haven’t been the same around here without you. -AH

Hotch. You should’ve known. You smile and tuck the note into your purse.

“Hey, hey, look who’s finally decided to get her ass back to work.” Morgan’s charming laugh is followed by Emily chastising him.

“Ignore him,” she says as she places a steaming mug of coffee on your desk.

“You’re a godsend,” you say by way of thanks and take a long drink. Two sugars, no milk, just the way you like. “Wow, Emily, that’s perfect. I needed this.”

“How come you don’t remember how I take my coffee?” Morgan asks pointedly.

She shrugs, “Chicks before dicks, Derek.”

You sputter and choke on your coffee.

“Look,” he says as he pats you on the back. “Her first day back and you’re gonna kill her.”

At that moment JJ passes by with a file in hand. She raises it in the air and gestures to the conference room. “We got a case.” She smiles at you warmly. “It’s good to have you back.”

Together, you, Morgan, and Emily enter the conference room where Reid, Hotch, and Rossi have already gathered. Once you’re all sat, JJ begins presenting the case. You review current victims and why the Sacramento Police Department has invited you onto the case

“Sacramento PD is expecting us this afternoon. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us. Wheels up in thirty, understood?”

A chorus of ‘yes sirs’ echo throughout the room. As the team gathers their belongings and moves to leave, you wait for Hotch to catch your eye. You wink at him before mouthing, “Yes, sir.”

1K notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year ago

Note

Coza!! Congrats on your 2K followers. 🥳🎉🥂

I like your smuts and I’m having a hard time choosing what scenarios to request!! I’m so excited for this event you have no idea. May I request for the Option 1? Reaction of Luffy+ Sanji+ Zoro+ Law+ Eustass Kid + Killer to you reading smuts/hentai please? Thank you!!

A/N: Hi :) I wasn't able to do everyone, but I did a few! Minors…OUT! go on! Get! Scram! Also I won’t lie Zoro’s is based loosely off of the funniest comic I’ve seen in my life that stays living rent free in my head Characters: gn reader x Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Law Cw: smut and suggestive, NO MINORS ALLOWED ON THIS POST PLS GO AWAY Total word count: 900

Scandalous Reading

Luffy

Luffy’s head rested on your shoulder, his eyes lazily skimming the page that you were reading.

“Woah!” Luffy grabbed the book out of your hand and put it up to his face to get a better view of the words. “I didn’t even know this was possible!”

“Luffy!” You reached for the book, but he held it just out of your reach, still reading.

“I didn’t even think about trying-”

“Luffy! Give it back!”

His wide eyes peered over the pages, but he refused to hand it back to you. “Do you like this stuff?”

“I mean-I don’t-I just-” Your face turned beet red at the implication. “It’s just written really well!”

He gave you a mischievous grin and took off back toward his room, book in tow. “Come on!” he called. “I want to see if it really can work this way!”

Oh, you were in for a rough night.

Sanji

“My love, did you-” Sanji stopped, his eyes fixated on the book cover you were reading.

“Sanji?” you prompted, trying to get his attention.

“I know that author,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “Where do I know that-”

“You probably don’t!” You slammed your book shut and shoved it behind your back. “What did you need?”

“Oh! Right! Would you like gelato or ice cream?”

“Surprise me!” you said, trying to get his mind off the book. “I’m sure whatever you make will be amazing!”

Sanji was in the kitchen when he finally placed it, and he almost collapsed from the realization of what he had caught you reading.

He brought you out the finest gelato he had ever made and set it down next to you. “So, my love,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. “How is your book?”

“It’s good,” you said. You set it down to grab your gelato, and Sanji lunged for it.

He skimmed the pages, confirming his suspicion, and tried his hardest not to pass out from the filth his eyes found. “You’re reading book porn!” he whispered sharply. “You always get on me for staring at-”

“That’s not the same,” you hissed. “These aren’t real people! It’s different!”

“It is not!”

“What am I supposed to do!?” you snapped back, glaring at him. “You’re busy in the kitchen, I have to entertain myself somehow during the day!”

Oh, that was a bad way of wording things, because the second the words were out, Sanji’s eyes lit up. “Are you telling me you want to do something like this? Because I would love nothing more than to treat you like the royalty I know you are.”

Zoro

“What are you reading?” Zoro asked, looking at your book cover.

“A book.” You tilted the book slightly to shield him from seeing any of the words.

“What’s it about?” He seemed strangely interested in the cover. “Swordmaking?”

Oh right, there was a sword on the front cover of the book. No wonder he was so interested in it.

“It’s called Swords and Snakes. It’s a book about…royalty, love, and betrayal.”

He scrunched his face in disgust and went back to resting his eyes. “Not really my kind of book.”

You grinned. "No, I don't think it is." You set your book down and stood up. “Do you want anything? I’m going to go get a snack.”

“Riceballs.”

You nodded and went to the kitchen to grab food. What you hadn’t been expecting was returning to Zoro staring wide-eyed at the page you had dog-earred.

He looked up at you in amusement, smirking at your anxious body language. “You weren’t joking about love and betrayal.”

“That’s mine!”

“More like love-making and betrayal,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know they wrote books like this. I didn’t know you would read books like this.”

“Well to be fair-” you snatched the book from his hands. “I didn’t know you could read at all!”

“Don’t be too bratty now,” he teased. “Or I’ll give you the same treatment that knight gave the princess.”

Law

You had only left your book laying on the bedside table for a minute while you ran to the bathroom. But damn that Trafalgar Law, he was so nosey.

“Quite the fantasy world you read about,” he hummed as you walked back into the room.

“What do you-” your words died in your throat, seeing him flip through the pages. “Oh, that.” You gave a nervous laugh, striding back over to your bed.

“Yes, this.” He slapped the book shut, peering up at you with such a predatory and lustful look that you almost took a step backward.

“I just picked it up at the last bookstore we went to,” you lied. “I don’t even know what it’s about.”

“Right,” he said, clearly not believing you.

He handed the book back to you, and you quickly grabbed it. “Thanks,” you whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

“Sure.” He stood to take his leave, heading back to the lab. He stopped on his way out, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“If you ever want to make it a reality, all you have to do is ask.”

2K notes · View notes

jointherebellion215 · 9 months ago

Text

Flowers

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: You're living a perfectly content life on Geidi Prime with your husband. It's a shame your mind can't rest, sparked by glimpses of a life unknown. Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: Dark!Feyd-Rautha, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, yandere!Feyd-Rautha, manipulation, gaslighting, like SO much gaslighting holy shit, descriptions of violence, abusive relationship, emotional abuse, isolation, tragedy, nonconsensual drug use, nonconsensual medical treatement, induced memory loss, amnesia, dubious consent, pregnancy, songfic, happy-but-not-really-happy ending, I know I said female!reader but there's virtually no pronoun usage or descriptive words in thisfor the reader besides titles so maybe GN!reader??

A/N: I'm blown away, almost 500 notes on His Kiss, the Riot? Holy shit, all of the thanks! Here it is, the final part! I'm ending it with the song that actually started this whole idea. Listening to Eva's interpretation of Eurydice singing Flowers gave me the most delicious, fucked-up bit of inspiration and this came out. I was clutching my own metaphorical pearls writing this cause damn, this gets dark. Like, way more than I thought I could write. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the end of this twisted tale. Thank you for reading! As always, I appreciate you taking the time to like, comment, and reblog.

Read Part One and Part Two

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

Lily white and poppy red

I trembled when he laid me out

“You won’t feel a thing,” he said, “when you go down”

Nothing gonna wake you now

Drops of blood.

A wicked, black smile.

“You won’t feel a thing.”

You wake up with a gasp. Your doctor had warned you about dreams like this. They weren’t real, just an aftereffect of your accident.

The medical staff for House Harkonnen had been gracious enough to inform you of your predicament. When your family had recently hosted the Harkonnens, you quickly met and fell deeply in love with the na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. Your love for each other was so intense that you had demanded to get married right away. Your father disapproved of the union, so he disowned you and banished you, demanding to never see you again.

On the journey back to Geidi Prime, a stray asteroid hit the ship and caused you to hit your head. Feyd had apparently worried for your life, which saddened you and warmed your heart. It was nice to know that someone truly cared for you. However, your mind wasn’t quite the same afterwards. Your life before Geidi Prime was completely unknown to you. Your memories were in a fragile state.

That was just a few months earlier. Unfortunately, your mind has not yet recovered your memories prior to the accident. You were diligently taking a specially brewed tea that would calm your mind so it wouldn’t fracture under the immense pressure to try and fix itself. When you asked how long it would take for you to recover, your heart cracked when they said that it may take the rest of your natural life.

While it broke your heart to hear of your father’s dismissal of your feelings, you believed that you were strong enough to carry on. Having no further ties to your home world made it better to settle in with your new family.

You are a Harkonnen now.

Now, your footsteps make the quietest of echoes as you traipse down the narrow corridor. Heads of nearby servants and slaves bow, and eyes snap to the floor as you pass by. You feel the barest of sympathies, for not being allowed the simplest of human connection with their na-Baronness. But it was paradise considering the consequences should anyone ever feel bold enough to try otherwise.

Your husband wouldn’t allow that.

Dreams are sweet, until they’re not

Men are kind, until they aren’t

Flowers bloom, until they rot and fall apart

“Can I not have a single friend on this planet?!”

You burst into your shared chambers, rage rushing through your veins. All you had wanted was to have lunch and tea with one of the few female palace advisors you had taken a liking to. Maybe share a laugh or a story. Make a connection outside of your new family. That was all ruined when Feyd barged in and gutted your companion, stomach-to-throat, while she sat in her chair.

You were sure that your shoes had trailed blood down the hallway, but your mind was focused elsewhere at the moment.

“What use would you have for friends? I am right here.” He closed in on you, grasping your arms and forcing you to look in his direction. “Am I not enough for you? Do I not give you everything you should ever desire?”

His hands tighten around your wrists, making you flinch. A stray tear falls from your eyes, guilt starts to overcome your anger.

“No, not at all, husband! You have given me everything I could have wished for and more,” You wrench your hands out of his grip and grasp his face. He showered you with gifts, never let you go hungry or thirsty and this is how you repay him? “I just… I didn’t think you would want to hear me talk about certain things. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.”

“I know you don’t, my darling.”

You take a deep breath as you feel the tension in the room start to settle.

“Your mind is already fragile from the accident… I just want to keep you safe.”

Safe. That was the key here. He takes step back and retrieves a small dagger from his belt.

Feyd holds it up, showing you the weapon. “Did you know that your friend had a blade dipped in poison strapped onto her person?”

You can feel the blood rushing from your face. No. You didn’t know.

“I-I didn’t see a knife on her. She couldn’t have-“

“She did.”

He drops the blade and leans in closer to you, forehead aligning with yours. “There are people out there who seek to harm you, who seek to harm me through you. I can never let that happen.”

You nod furiously. You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid.

Trust is unbelievably hard to come by in the Galactic Imperium. Your few months’ worth of memories can even attest to that. It seems that the only people you can truly rely on is family.

“I only want what’s best for you.”

You understand now.

Is anybody listening?

I open my mouth and nothing comes out

Another argument discussion had emerged from your telling of your latest dream. Your husband was convinced that you were entirely too exhausted to put any stock into what your subconscious was telling you, but you thought otherwise.

Fingers run through a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

“I swear to you, it felt so real! It was almost like a memory, like something I-,” A firm hand is placed on your shoulder as you give a slight stumble. Feyd puts a hand on your back, leading you to the edge of your bed, setting you on the bench that was placed against the footboard.

“Please, have some of your morning tea, my darling. You look a bit peaked.” You accepted the cup he gave you, settling down and taking a few sips of the warm, spiced drink. Your mind instantly calms, anxieties evaporating from your body like puffs of smoke. Never mind the memories that you had just… Floating.

Your husband is now on one knee in front of you, arms encasing your body, as his hands cup your face. He brings your eyes to meet his, seemingly searching. For what? You do not know.

“What were you saying about this dream of yours?” A pause reverberates throughout the room as your head tilts in confusion.

“My…?” You stutter, mouth opening to complete a thought that was no longer entirely there. “I can’t quite remember. What were we talking about?”

Your husband gives a smirk, analyzing your face once more before placing his hand on the dark fabric covering your swollen belly.

“Nothing of import. It seems that my heir is set on scrambling your thoughts.”

There seemed to be nothing in this world that brought more joy to Feyd-Rautha’s face than the sight of you and his unborn child. He’s more protective of you now than ever, having guards always posted near you, having you wear a shield during all public appearances. Not to mention, he was damn near insatiable in private. His hands and mouth are practically dragged away from you and your growing stomach every morning.

You give a chuckle. “I’d heard about pregnancy brain before, but never knew it to be this taxing! Perhaps I’ll take a walk later if I’m feeling up to it.”

Feyd gives your cheek a soft pat before rising to his feet, “Rest, my darling. I shall check in on the both of you later.” His hand rests next to yours, giving your belly a quick rub before he walks towards the door.

Your head goes to set on your pillow, the warmth from the tea running through your body. You must be really tired, since you fall asleep so quickly.

Quick enough to not hear the deadbolt lock clicking from the outside once the door is closed.

Flowers, I remember field of flowers

Soft beneath my heels

Walking in the sun, I remember someone

Someone by my side, turned his face to mine

The dreams start to encroach your mind while you are awake. You continue to follow your doctor’s instructions: take your daily tea, rest often, don’t overexert your body or your mind. But, ever persistent, they push through, finding parallels with your daily life to latch onto.

A hand, gently enlaced with yours, guides you through a meadow—

You husband’s hands lead you to stand with him by his uncle’s side, preparing for another ceremony.

A laugh, familiar and warm—

A chilling cackle of laughter reaches you in your viewing box, watching your husband gleefully slay another adversary in the arena.

Bright, yellow sunlight caressing your face and neck—

The black sun of Geidi Prime pulses in your periphery as you wave to a crowd below, your husband standing stoically next to you.

A kiss, given freely—

Feyd ravishes you in your chambers, lips melding together with yours.

My darling—

My love—

My darling—

“Is everything alright, my darling?”

You blink, snapping back to the present. Pale, smooth skin and blue eyes, your husband extends his hand towards you. Safe. He gives you everything. You and your child will never struggle or suffer with him. You are safe with him. Aren’t you?

Blood splatters over a patch of bright pinks, yellows, and blues—

You give a bright smile.

If you ever walk this way

Come and find me lying in the bed I made

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algae-tm · 7 months ago

Text

KILL BILL P.6

Charles Leclerc x famous singer! reader

Warnings : morally grey reader, toxic exes

Author’s note : There are so many x readers where the reader doesn’t do anything wrong, which I love don’t get me wrong but I wanted to write one where she’s a bit flawed. And obvs I cannot hate her cause she’s just in love and this is lossely (very loosely) based around real life events y’all so I get it! And also I love Alex 😭 I was gunna make her the villain but I literally can’t! So this is going a bit of a diff direction, in terms of ending. - Algae 🌱

•••••

INSTAGRAM

y/bff/n

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 678,798 others

y/bff/n : talking about boys over brunch? (tagged : yourusername)

yourusername : feels like I’m 18 again

— user3 : holdup when did y/n and Charles get together?

— user4 : she was 18 and he was 19/20…

— user5 : lmao that’s why he’s got her wrapped round his finger… poor baby hasn’t known any better

— user7 : not you guys acting like Charles groomed her be so serious! they have a 1 and a half year age gap touch grass.

— user9 : you can’t argue with people like this, they’re so chronically online!

— user4 : so how did they meet?

— user19 : google is free!

— user6 : her and Lewis did a fashion campaign when she was 16, and he sort of took her under his wing, cause I think her parents were a bit... I believe she then met Charles when she came to watch a race and watched the f2 race as well.

user1 : y/n telling you about how she’s a slut?

— y/bff/n : only ever having been with 1 man equals slut?

— user1 : going after a man with a girlfriend surely does.

lewishamilton : we love to see it

— y/bff/n : we sure do 😍

— yourusername : not you guys acting like I was dead in a ditch…

— y/bff/n : you were in man purgatory, it’s basically the same thing.

user11 : does Oscar know y/bff/n?

— user12 : No why?

— user11 : cause bros lurking in the comments

— user1 : lmao you think the skank’s gunna go for him next? (user1 has been blocked)

— user13 : @oscarpiatri trust you do not know how to handle @yourusename

— user11: poor baby she’d eat him alive

user13 : oh to be a fly on the wall for the Charles convo

user14 : trust it was hours long

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, danielricciardo, carlossainz55 and 10,987,843 others

yourusername : boys are awful and grotesque. i had to decompress on an island to get the crazy out of my brain. it’s a good thing mics are portable. Thank you Ephraim! My concierge for finding me a keyboard so I could get you guys this song that entered my brain almost two weeks ago and refused to leave. It’s a good teaser for my album, which is out in TWO days. so without further ado hope y’all like The Weekend!! if you don’t like it I’ll cry.

lewishamilton : oh this gives context to the unhinged messages you sent me at 1 am

— yourusername : I’m an artist, it’s my creative process

— lewishamilton : well this is way more constructive than turning up in Monaco

— user5 : oop- not you clocked by Lewis Hamilton of all people

— user7 : well I’m happy that Lewis doesn’t condone the behaviour of a slag

— user8 : lmao even her friends are getting tired of her

— user9 I think y’all are forgetting that they were together for six years, it was y/n’s first relationship, he dumps her out of the blue gets a new girlfriend within months. I for one would also go a bit crazy and need to be secluded on an island! Too bad I don’t have island money lmao

lewishamilton : I’ve been listening non stop! You truly out did yourself kid 🖤

y/bff/n : thank god you are not in Canada rn

y/bff/n : i was having a heart attack!

y/bff/n : you need to tell me before you travel across the world! We cannot have a repeat of last time.

— yourusername : have I really traumatised you that badly?

——y/bff/name : yes

—— lewishamilton : yes

—— yoursiblinguser : yes

—— friend1 : yes

—— danielricciardo: yes

—— oscarpiastri : yes

——yourusername : now hang on @oscarpiatri I don’t even know you!

— — oscarpiastri : wanna change that?

——- user11 : not you going after your dad’s ex

——-user14 : about to be a messy family reunion

——-danielricciardo : check that Aussie charm 🇦🇺

user7 : okay someone please talk about the lyrics????? Right off the bat it’s unhinged?? “WHY YOU WANT ME WHEN YOUVE GOT A GIRL??!” No cause that is so true like @charles_leclerc why are you still contacting her when Alex is right there?? (Liked by yourusername)

— user8 : ‘knowing it’s selfish, knowing I’m desperate’ oh she’s DOWN BAD!!

— user7 : you get it… cause DESPERATE, you’re describing yourself as desperate?? Bad bitch down in aisle 4 I fear!

user9 : lmao no cause you’ve outdone yourself! What do you mean ‘my man is my man, is your man. Heard that’s her man too’

— user21 : no cause she really is not a serious individual 😂

— user10 : the song is a bop don’t get me wrong but am I the only one who’s thinking about Alex in all this??

— user11 : poor girl hasn’t done anything apart from like a serial monogamist…

— user12 : I mean after this release Alex just needs to count her losses and leave him (liked by alexandrasaintmleux)

— user13 : oop- not her liking… clock it! But at this point I think this is just a messy situation where everyone’s gunna lose. Especially Alex poor girl never stood a chance

user22 : I just keep him satisfied through the weekend!

— user23 : you’re like 9 to 5 I’m the weekend!!!!

— user24 : make him lose his mind every weekend!!!!

sza : please god never let me be this down bad over a man 🙏🏾

— yourusername : now I know you’re not the one talking 🤨

badgalriri : 🖤

donatella_versace : DONATELLA VERSACE 💜

user17 : release the album NOW!

user18 : I’m sorry but weren’t we just mad at her? Releasing a song doesn’t make you automatically in the right? In fact even the song paints her as a bit of a villain :( I can’t imagine poor Alex listening to it.

— user19 : right? She’s practically begging him to cheat with her

— user15 : i really don’t know how to feel about the whole situation but it’s definitely not a good feeling…

••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee @callsignwidow

#charles leclerc smau #f1 smau #charles leclerc x black!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one smau

282 notes · View notes

chaosandmarigolds · 4 months ago

Text

(Loosely based on real events translated into something funny and yes, in real life my English is crappy and really broken even tho I’ve been speaking it for years)

Polish Reader: you murder my family

Konig: wrong?? I do no such thing??

Reader: bullshit! I hear in your voice you are are one of them

Konig: Austrian!! I am from Austria!

Reader: nooo you are German

Konig: I speak German does not mean I am German!

Reader:

Konig:

Reader: mówisz po polsku?

Konig: tak. sprichst du deutsch?

Reader: Da.

Reader: Also die Russen, was macht ihr-

Konig: nienawidzę ich

Soap: what the fuck are they saying

Simon: they’re remembering their days in the USSR

(Ps I know very little German, veeeery little sorry if spelling or the grammar is wrong)

#yap yap yap yap yap yap :)#coco's chaos <3 #konig fluff #call of duty konig #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #cod konig #konig headcanons

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badlywritingmagazine · 3 months ago

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Wanna help a by-and-for transfem journal?

Wanna get involved?

Thank you everyone for your interest so far! If you have a sec, I’ve written a quick post about a few ways you can help.

Lili Elbe, painted by Szív királynő, serving “journal reader” realness Do you have trans female mates?

Let your girl friends know. Share it amongst your networks.

Can you read?

Wonderful. Subscribe to this substack to be notified when an issue is released.

Can you think?

If you’re a trans woman and you have feelings about something, send it to us. If you’re developing an idea, come chat with us over email (or arrange a phone call) and let’s figure it out together.

Do you sell books and zines?

Wonderful. Email me. Stock it. Perfect. I can also send you a poster version of our invitation to submit to print out.

Have you written?

If you’re a trans woman who writes about things relevant to our lives, send it to me. If it is online and you worry that it won’t stay up forever, it’s affecting your job and life prospects, or that it is a reflection of its time and not 100% wise anymore, send it to me and get it archived. Archiving is part of the goal here. We’re not uncurated, but that doesn’t mean you should shrug and let the internet, time, transmisogyny and linkrot eat your hard work.

If you’re a trans woman with jobs and obligations and you don’t like having your essay ‘Why dickgirls should commit more assassinations’ or ‘transgender materialism: towards a de/coterminous understanding of post tipping point transmisogyny’ or whatever attached to your name then send it to me and get it re/published under a pseudonym.

If we get a large number of submissions like this we will publish it as a separate supplement, but else it will come as a section within WBM.

Do you know grants?

Rates for unfunded zines and pamphlets suck. We want to pay the women well. Let us know if you know of funds or grants you think we fall under. We’ll be sending off applications.

Can you help us host a launch party in a major city?

We envision low-cost evening events with discussion, trans women, and piles and piles of essays to talk about. (Can we crash on your couch?) We’re based in the UK, but are happy to come anywhere Ryanair goes where there’s a willing audience.

Got an idea I don’t have?

Ultimately, I want to keep this dirt simple. Essays come in, paper goes out. No columns, shite graphics. Couple core editors. Schedules loose enough to spend half the year depressed and still get it out. Stolen printer paper. Something that won’t collapse after two years. Posterity.

That said, if you have an idea (and maybe if you want to do it), email us. Think you know enough people to get this translated and shipped somewhere else? Can you translate and know of a non-English language transfeminist text that’s not got much attention in the anglosphere? Maybe we can submit an application for a grant and distribute your translation? Understand distribution better than me? Do you have the wherewithal to manage a personals board? Something else? Anything except an agony aunt section. I’ve called dibs on that one.

Do you have agonies? Issues? Want bad advice?

Write to the agony aunt. writingbadlymag snail symbol gmail dot com.

Do you have something to say which won't make a whole essay but is still worth saying?

Write a letter to the editor. Same email.

Addendum: Can you help us set up a website?

Websites we think are beautiful are dirt simple. Low-tech Magazine has a beautiful low-energy website. Filmmaker Margot McEwan has a lovely fitting website. Any thoughts or suggestions should be sent to the same email.

(update: we're all set now! Check out badly.press!)

See a good stack cutter?

If you see a cheap paper stack cutter for cheap, let me know. :)

Thanks all!

Forthcoming posts: information for writers, extracts from the issue.

#transfeminism

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driftwithme · 1 year ago

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I love that Guillermo del Toro didn't want Pacific Rim to be all about the military, so he ended up giving the PPDC ranks based on cowboy imagery: ranger, marshall, etc.

It makes me think about some of the most beloved characters by the narrative are the ones who rebel agonist the military way of doing stuff: characters like Newt and Raleigh for example. Because well, characters like Mako and Hermann are rebellious but only due the influence of Newt and Raleigh -- and characters like Herc and Chuck seem to be rebellious in parallel to Raleigh too, like some contagious virtue on the loose.

It's palpable in two of their most famous lines on the movie: when Newton talks about how fortune favors the brave and when Raleigh tells Mako that in real life you make decisions and you have to learn to keep living with the consequences. Everyone around them looks down at them at some point for being what they'd call reckless, but Raleigh and Newt are aware of the risks, they are not kids. Which is funny because in contrast, they even do that to each other: the perception of the other as a fool of some sort.

And yet, without Newt and Raleigh tendency of disobeying, they'd all be dead and gone.

Without Raleigh insitance on having Mako as his co-pilot and his demand to get G. Danger deployed, the Double Event would had been the catastrophe that ended their last run to the Breach before it started. Without Newt's crazy plan of drifting with a kaiju, they would had perish due the lack or information.

Twice Raleigh piloted solo and twice Newt drifted with a kaiju. In one of those ocassion they had to give a part of themselves that they would never get back (a part of Newt's sanity, Yancy's life). After the first time, both emphasize to Pentecost that they can't do it again. They can, technically, but now they've done it once and it hurt.

Still they do it and it saves the world.

The man who was good for nothing except to hold his own on a fight and the guy who was destined to love fictitious monsters in every universe except that one. In any other world or timeline, Newtom and Raleigh would have been the losers. They were still somehow the losers on Pacrim, a has-been pilot turnes into a builder and a scientist perceive as another sick kaiju groupie. They weren't disciplined like the others yet they were a bit obsessive, they were the sort of ambitious that makes people doubt, stubborn and arrogant in their convictions, totally unapologetic in knowing themselves.

Sure, they have to pay the price in double, but at the end of the day, they are champs of fortune: they do the impossible and survive to tell their stories, breaking every rule and winning the faith of those around them.

#pacific rim #pacrim #pacific rim 2013 #pacrim 2013 #raleigh becket #newton geiszler

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r3starttt · 6 months ago

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BIRDS OF A FEATHER

- request | dina - ellie - abby x reader

cw: no mention of any past/canon relationship or detailed events. all hc's are sfw. Abby's hc's are considering she'd stay at WLF base. Ellie's and Dina's hcs are considering they'd stay at Jackson.

ABBY

𐙚 After her dad’s loss, she definitely became more attached to people that were special for her. It was a matter of days after she met you, she had already convinced herself you'll be her biggest priority for as long as she could keep you close if not forever.

𐙚 It started with small acts of service, nothing beyond abby being friendly towards you because how could she not when you've proved endless times you care about her, you're someone she can genuinely trust. Whenever you met she'd take her time with you, chatting about anything, inviting you to have lunch together, doing small exchanges of clothing, food, movies, anything you can think about.

𐙚 That until she invited you over, asking probably the first favor ever to Manny. Who definitely didn't doubt on telling the whole crew about you later that day.

𐙚 After ending cuddling with her, talking for hours that seemed endless, getting her to open up about her dad and her life in general. You knew she had to be the one. It was a connection that was so real and pure it could almost be palpable. And there was no need to talk about it. It had become a mutual agreement at this point.

𐙚 Those small dates kept on going, until it was basically a need to stay together.

𐙚 Abby did everything from that moment on to keep you near her all the time. Fearing to loose you, fearing if you went on patrol alone it could be the last say she'll see you, or fearing she might not come back one day.

𐙚 However that never happened. Not even one day passed by without her on your side. It would be a lie to say none of you were ever at risk, but both had the luck to keep moving, surviving.

𐙚 At one point it was indeed painfull the idea of not being able to make a family on your own, yet the idea was briefly lost by the realization you two had more than that, not only because you were healthy and had friends growing along the two of you, but also because you two would always have each other.

𐙚 The more you aged the more the bond griew. And there could never be something more beautiful than seeing the woman you've loved most get those shinny white hairs start to grow, seeing her skin become more and more soft, loosen. Her body becoming weaker, more and more vulnerable.

𐙚 The days becoming heavier to go through, the nights of rest and cuddles becoming a need. And you could never imagine doing it without her. Without her pretty eyes that looked deep at you each night, with so much love. Her voice murmuring soft praices at you before you fell asleep underneath her hands, brushing so softly against your skin, your hair. Without her lips pressing over your temple each morning. Without her hugs each time she noticed you tired or troubled, or her existence itself, making sure you never got hurt whenever you had to go on patrol, making sure you never felt like a burden when it started to get harder and harder to move under such situations.

𐙚 Either you decided to stay at the base or search for a secure place to leave the rest of your life's together she made sure you'll never have to worry about how to make it to the next day, next week, month or year. And yes it was teamwork between both, but she needed to make sure you did the easier tasks most of the time.

𐙚 The small 'house' you've made with her had become the most safe place for both. A prove of the love you felt for each other in each shared blanket, each movie placed on the beautiful furniture you've exchanged some years ago with a friend. Every corner filled with love, calm and pureness.

𐙚 There's gotta be at least a few boxes filled with medicine. Always fresh food. Anything to make sure the two of you get to live in the most comfort possible.

𐙚 Also, each holiday gets celebrated no matter what. She started it, many years later simply asking you if you've ever celebrated Christmas. Later on you where the one planing what to do. All to see her pretty smile. Her eyes filled with adoration. You would always fo anything to see her this happy. Making secret stockings for the both of you. Gifting her the most simple thing that somehow has the biggest meaning for her. Always receiving a bunch of kisses on exchange.

𐙚 The more she ages, the more she realizes she's just like her dad, and the more she realizes the most sensitive she gets. You're always there to comfort her, like you did on the very first beginning, taking her hand on her sleep whenever she had nightmares. Waking her up and offering all kinds of comfort possible even though it was more than enough with your presence next to her. And realizing all this makes the same fuzzy feeling in your heart that you felt that first night you slept on her side. What could you possibly do on this life to deserve aging to her side in such beautifully way?

DINA

𐙚 She did all first moves on you ever since she met you. It was almost impossible to not give in her. The way she looked at you every time you spoke. The way her hands felt so smooth and soft each time she touched you. She easily became the safest place you could ever have.

𐙚 Smoothly and in a very short time, her friends were yours and vice versa. Your family was hers, so was your food, your clothes, anything she or you needed could be shared. And it wasn't ignored nor talked, but you were both very aware of it all.

𐙚 She never doubted you liked her back, but you never said it openly so she feared maybe she'll make a mistake trying to take things further. That until your lips pressed over hers, abruptly. And she knew she'll never let go of you, not after you didn't care that's she was all covered in sweat, not after you didn't care people watching and talking about it.

𐙚 She never was the type to be all the time close to you, but god when she was. Muffled words in between kisses, hands roaming all over your body, her eyes amused each time she met your face. It was pure and real.

𐙚 There would be many nights where she'll take you out, to smoke, talk, kiss, make out over and over again. The closest you would ever be to the typical teenage love you've seen on those movies she'll show you sometimes before you even thought about her romantically. And you loved it, how she tried hard for you to have the nicest time with her every single time.

𐙚 It broke your heart seeing a change on her after some weeks of dating. Which was later changed by fear, confusion, happiness. All at once. She was pregnant. She seemed shocked and you really didn't know what to do. Any choice that ran through your mind didn't include leaving her, and you felt so guilty for making her think otherwise. It's one of the most precious memories you have, that's when you knew it had to be forever.

𐙚 The following months after the new were so weird. Changes everywhere for the both of you. Fears you never imagined you'll experience. A current worry for her, for you even. What would you do when the life she was carrying on her stomach became an actual tangible little thing? Could you manage it?

𐙚 Eventually, she practically obliged you to learn everything about how to work as a family, as a mom as insane it would sound at that age. And even though you never actually felt ready, the moment you chose the name, the moment you saw that little baby, the moment you heard him, it all changed. You really couldn't wait to not only grow with dina on your side, but to grow with your baby, to see them grow together and learn together. To leave a legacy that could grow with tender and love in such world.

�� And that's how it happened. At first staying in Jackson to have support until needed. To get enough recourses and an established safe place to grow the three of you in peace. Ever since you met dina she shared with you how much she wanted to have her own little farmhouse, and the more you saw JJ grow up the more you knew it had to be your reality as soon as possible. The chance to have a quiet life with your family. Such a big privilege you were dying to achieve.

𐙚 And even though it took you a while, you made sure it happened just as Dina wanted it to. Not to far from Jackson but far enough to get your own privacy. The whole decorating process mostly made by her. All to see her happy, to make her dream come true.

𐙚 And just as you did with that very first house in Jackson, you worked day and night to make it comfortable. Secure. A place where JJ could grow up free, as loved as possible. Dina did everything to make the most beautiful room a baby could ever have, the most comfortable room for the two of you, with a bunch of peaces that screamed your names. Like blankets with your and her favorite color, curtains with a flowery pattern that remind her of you. The plush you got for her at a small fair in Jackson placed on JJ's crib, her favorite books placed on a small table near his crib so she could read them to him when he grew up. Every detail on that house made for the three of you to enjoy the best life possible.

𐙚 It was insane to see this part of her. Growing each day within her. How she sang quietly each night to put him to sleep, how she then came to your arms, cuddling as if you were about to run from her embrace. Seeing her smile each morning when you glanced at her after hearing some soft mumbles, realizing they were already awake. Or seeing her tired eyes asking you to take care of him if it was too early for her. It brought you so much joy to see how much he looked like her. How her giggles resembled so much to the laugh escaping her pretty lips whenever she was happy. You didn't think it was possible to love more than one person this much.

𐙚 Both of you took each other’s and JJ's birthdays way too seriously. Doing everything to make of it the greatest day on earth. And that eventually became harder and harder. What else could someone want when they have all they could ever dream of and more? And god, each year that passed brought the two of you so much nostalgia. Seeing your little baby grow and grow and grow. Your bodies aging with him. Your hairs turning gray and your bodies weak. It always elicted a smile on your face to see her always like the first time you ever spoke.

𐙚 It was a constant of compliments. How pretty her hair looked. Her body, her hands her eyes. Always returned with the same love she recieved them. How much she loved having you on her side, how much she adored you being the first thing she saw each morning. How she would always chose you.

ELLIE

𐙚 she put an eye on you the very first moment she saw you, but never really approached you until you had to hang out together since you had friends in common. And even like that, she had a hard time, fearing she might be awkward, suddenly forgetting how someone's supposed to talk to someone new. She still managed to get a good impression

𐙚 Which led to you wanting to hang out more with her. She never denied. And it wasn't necessarily romantic. They were dates in between friendship and something more if possible. Both being a little awkward, mostly because of her. That until she opened up and decided to over share and yap about everything, you eventually did the same.

𐙚 It was a matter of months for you to fall completely for her. She was so simple for a world like this, so gentle with the people she cared. There was something so charming about how she shared her interests with you. How she eventually told you her whole life detail by detail. How it became so easy to open up to her and how suddenly the silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore. It was so sweet to see her pretty eyes looking at you with such hunger of more, seeing how she never did more than just look.

𐙚 That's when you knew you'll have to make the first move. Leaving such tender kiss on one of those dates you've been having for a while. The way she smiled when you stepped back, her sheepish expression and flushed cheeks, her freckles shining more than ever. It was so precious, probably one of the first times you were so conscious about how pretty she was, how there was the most sweet person behind her usual serious facade.

𐙚 After that you practically started to live at her house. Becoming friends with her friends, part of her family. However she never really said anything about it, to anyone. And you understood, knowing how she'd lost so much already, it made sense that she feared that many sharing what you two had so openly would make the rest of people she cared so much about simply leave her side. However she had to talk about it, not being able to ignore it at one point, feeling guilt later soothed by you.

𐙚 That was probably the most and last big conflict you two had. You taught her how to stop being so stubborn, how to be patience. And she simply couldn't hesitate, understanding she didn't need to be so defensive all the time. Finally getting someone she could get some free comfort of, someone she could be vulnerable with without fearing they might leave.

𐙚 On exchange she'll give anything for you, do anything even if you didn't ask. She naturally started to take care of you. Not realizing how much she looked at you whenever you were near, how she'd walk always on your side whenever you had to go patrolling together. Small details that became a thing, a ritual everytime you were with her.

𐙚 And behing those small actions you always knew there was so much more. She didn't even have to tell you, you could know by how she searched for comfort in you, how she'd cuddle with you when she had trouble sleeping, how she'll go and search for you when she was feeling off.

𐙚 Later on you could finally understand. You never really asked about the burn under her tattoo, in fact, too focused on the desfing to even care about whatever was underneath it. You'll never forget her face when she finally shared. The shock you felt, thinking about all those times she pushed you aside to kill for you, understanding it wasn't just her taking care of you but maybe even feeling the responsibility to do so. It broke your heart know the guilt she felt and it took you a long while to properly talk about it with her, to find a way to comfort her, to find a way to make her understand she didn't need to save anyone but herself. Though it was worht, after seeing that look on her face, her pretty eyes shining at your words and your embrace, finding sense in those words for the first time ever.

𐙚 that's what made her think you must be the one she had to stay for the rest of her life. You made her hide that defensive and vengative side of her. For your own good, she felt like being better, do better.

𐙚 She got a small house for the two of you. Still in Jackson, knowing that would be the safest place for both. At first it was messy, your things and her things simply put together wherever they fit. Yet with time it became a real house, a place of comfort for both. All decorated with so much color, the perfect mix of both.

𐙚 as years passed by she simply decided to get comfortable with the whole thing. Staying more at home, with you. Staying hours and hours painting for you. And you adored that, seeing how much you've grew together in each portrait she drew along the years. Seeing how much you meant for her. Her way to remind you she'll always be yours.

𐙚 You saw how hard it was for her to age. How much conflict it caused her to see her body change. The people she saw on herself, on her skin loosening, on her hair becoming clear and clear, more gray each year. And Ellie couldn't be more thankful for having you there always on her side, knowing how and when to give her some space, and knowing when to comfort her, when to remind her how pretty she looked in your eyes.

𐙚 She never really understood how she could end with such life and privilege. Having you on her side, this healthy and old. It seemed unreal. And the fear of loosing you never really disappeared. It was simply replaced by the comfort of your embrace each night, the delicious food you made for her, the warmth of your touch every time you cupped her face, the way your voice was so soothing each time you told her how much you loved her, how pretty she was, how grateful you were for having her too.

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mjolnirswriststrap · 9 months ago

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SCARED

Neighbor!Bucky Barnes X F!Reader

Word Count: 2,519 ⭐️Masterlist⭐️

Summary: I loosely based this off of a real life event of mine, so if things don’t make sense, ask God 🤣🤣

Warnings: Agegap, neighbor!bucky, adultery, 18+ not quite smut but I don’t want childen reading anything I write 🤷🏻‍♀️ suggestive or not.

Spending the summer with your aunt wasnt something you planned for when school ended. It meant church every Sunday, and Wednesday night. It meant no wifi and being stranded in a strange town on the border of Georgia and Alabama.

You’d never been to Georgia and the possibility of driving to Florida to go to the beach was enough to convince you 5 weeks wasn’t that long. The 10 hour drive there lasted longer than the summer escape.

The first few weeks were exactly what you expected. Church, shopping, eating your aunts famous fried chicken livers, talking on the porch late into the night. On the third Sunday, after church, she informs you that you’re taking a trip to Alabama. Her grandson is coming to spend the week. You both needed to go pick him up from her daughter.

It took 4 hours to get there, napping made it feel like 30 minutes. Your aunt pulled up to a trailer park, and you scan your surroundings. You were even further in the middle of nowhere, then what you were at your aunts house. You always wanted to know the way out. But here, a 2 mile dirt road separates you from the highway you turned off of. You take notice of the neighbors, one had a pool out front, some older ladies floating on pool noodles waved at your aunt, they must know her. The neighbors on the other side of your cousins house weren’t so inviting.

You saw a toddler sitting in the dirt crying. Watching up at his parents flinging spit in each others faces. You avert your gaze when the man flicks his eyes over to you. You know men like that, they’re terrifying and unpredictable. He could walk over to you and start on you just for glancing in his direction. Your aunt ushers you into her daughters house, not wanting you to see the altercation.

You hadn’t seen your cousin since you were a little girl. Now she has a little boy. It was weird. Your family was so large, it was impossible to keep up with everyone. You had many cousins you hadn’t seen since Christmas of ‘06. After a ham sandwich and barbecue chips you were ready to leave, it was more boring here, and your cousin even had cable. You aunt must’ve noticed your boredom, offering a swim in her friends pool out front.

“But I didn’t bring a bathing suit?” You say grinning, knowing you’d go naked if it meant you could swim. “Just wear your bra and I’ll go ask the neighbor if she has some shorts that will fit you.” Your aunt says, swinging open the screen door. You nod your head, quickly braiding your hair to keep it out of your face. You almost lose your spot, twisting knots into your hair when the blonde woman from next door walks in, smiling. “Hey, your aunt said you needed some shorts?”.

You hop up from the couch. “Yes, thank you, I don’t know if we’re even close to the same size but what can it hurt to try?” You give her a soft smile. She looked like a wounded animal. She was way too nice to be getting yelled at like that. You wonder what set him off. But you know better than to ask. “Tanya, your kids crying.” You both look behind her to the open door. The dark haired man was standing there, looking thoroughly disgusted. When his eyes find you again, you have nowhere to hide. “Your aunt says you guys are staying the night.” He informs you, walking away. You furrow your eyebrows, why wouldn’t your aunt tell you that herself?

“She did, James needs a ride into town tomorrow and your aunt couldn’t say no.” She gives you a tight lipped smile. She knows a young girl would rather be spending her summer somewhere else. Once you squeezed into the shorts, you bolted to the pool, with a quick introduction to Sherry and Barb, sisters who owned the park. They were nice, asked you questions and treated you like family. Your aunt must really know them, you had no clue how.

Tanya and your aunt walked across the grass and climbed into the pool. Tanya tightly held onto a bottle of Budweiser, letting you know the night was already starting. You dunk your head, wanting to wash away the sweat from your forehead. When you resurface you see James stomping towards the pool, his shirt missing and motor oil smeared on his chest. “Drinking beer but not watching your kid I wish I could be surprised.” That’s when you notice a little boy in his hands, floaties tightly wrapped around his arms and body. He snatched the brown bottle from her hands, tossing the boy into the pool. “I got shit to do.” He walked away, finishing the beer and throwing the empty bottle to the ground.

After two more hours in the pool, your cousin came out looking for your aunt, leaving you alone with the Tanya and the baby. “Are you happy?” You finally ask, only because you’re truly alone with her. Her eyes well with tears, she shakes her head no. You move across the pool grabbing the boy you’d become acquainted with. You pulled yourself out of the water, not bothering to dry off, but you wrapped the boy in a towel. The sun was setting and it wasn’t warm enough for him to be out here wet. “I’ll be right back.” You give her a firm nod, carrying him in the direction of her house. She just watched helplessly as you turn the corner out of site.

Your heart started beating faster as you walked up to the trailer, knocking on the door. You try to think of what to say as you wait for him to open the door. You hear cursing from the other side before it’s swung open. He stands there for a minute, holding the door open before you realize he’s inviting you in. You step up, still holding onto the toddler. You don’t move from the doormat, afraid of tracking water through the house. “You can lay him down on the couch.” He says, pointing toward the corner of the room. You nod, padding your feet across the cold linoleum. You didn’t even notice the boy fell asleep in your arms, swimming always tuckers out kids. You straighten your back when you feel water droplets sliding down the inside of your thigh, pooling water at your feet.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even dry off before bringing him.” You look at the ground, wondering how you could fix the wet footprints that painted his floor. “I’m not.” He says but you barely catch it. “Huh?” You ask.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s just water honey.” You look up at him, not believing his sincerity. His blue eyes are piercing into yours. “Okay, well I better get back to the pool.” He watches you as you walk out of the door, he doesn’t make room for you to slip past him, causing you to turn your body towards him, he smelled good, you don’t know how. He was covered in black dirt from under the car, and sweat. He still wasn’t wearing a shirt and his tanned skin was so smooth, save for the happy trail growing up his stomach.

He was a lot older than you, more than 15 years, you’d guess. But you couldn’t tell standing this close to him. Your brain forces you out of the door. If you stood there in the tension for a second longer you don’t know what stupid thing would come out of your mouth. When you got back to the pool everyone had rejoined Tanya, even your aunt and cousin were drinking. You escape to your cousins house, changing back into your leggings and putting on your t-shirt. You check on your baby cousin, he’s sleeping in his room, not a worry in the world. You take the chance to spend a minute alone and turn on the tv.

You don’t even care to change the channel, SpongeBob played, lulling you to sleep. You’re awoken by your aunt, handing you the neighbor boy. “Will you watch him for a minute?” You just nod, and she’s out of the house. You peak through the curtain to see blue lights out front. Why are the cops here? You rock the boy to sleep, laying him down beside your cousin in his bed. When you walk outside everyone’s gone. The cops, your aunt, the neighbors. “What the hell.” You say out loud. You go knock on Sherrys door, hoping your aunt was there. But no one answered. Walking across the grass field someone caught your attention. It’s James, yelling at his trailer. “You don’t love me anyways, bitch.” He throws another beer bottle, this one smashes against the siding of the house. ��I should’ve never fucked you and let you have my kid.” You stop in your tracks when he turns around, obviously drunk. “Hey.” He says, slowly walking towards you. “Are you okay?” You ask naïve as ever.

“I’m a good person, right?” He asks. You don’t know what to say, not wanting to tip him off that you were shitting your pants right now.

“Yes, you seem like a really good dad.” You’re trying to deescalate. “I am.” His voice is a little louder than it should be. “I don’t doubt it.” You’re still standing in the same spot, too afraid to move. “You’re nice.” He says, smiling widely. You give him one back, he hadn’t done anything to you yet, you weren’t going to give him a reason to.

It was no secret that you were nervous. Your breathing was fast and your eyes kept darting past him. “You don’t have to be scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” He throws his hands in the air. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He says, stepping closer to you again. “Everyone hurts me. Treats me like I’m not worth anything.” He lets his head hang, and you start to feel guilt building inside of you, this man just needed someone to lean on. “I’m not worthless, right?” He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. You know he’s drunk, but this pain was real.

“You’re worth more than you know.” It was cliche, but a true blanket statement, no one knows their true worth. “Thank you.” He says, wiping his eyes. “I just need someone to hold me for once.” You felt that, you knew exactly what he meant. “Wanna hug?” You offer, knowing that sometimes that’s all people need, church the last three weeks had taught you that. Sometimes a smile and a handshake is all the human contact people get all week.

He just looks at you, expecting you to close the gap between you. So you do, you walk towards him, fear in the form of sweat, still dripping from you. You give him a warm smile as you lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around his middle. His hands quickly found your hips, pulling you even closer to him. He squeezed you tightly, and you swear you hear him smell your hair. You try to pull away after an awkward silence falls over the two of you, but he won’t let you go.

“I’m sorry you’re going through stuff man, I am.” You say, patting his shoulder to tell him to let go. You feel his body go rigid against yours so you think he’s crying again. Drunk tears are never ending. “It’s okay.” You wrap your arms around him again, rubbing up and down his bare back. You try to pull away again, this time saying something “Don’t want Tanya to come out here and catch you hugging a stranger, probably best we let go now.”

His silence was a thousand words. Then he spoke, “You can’t do that.” He says lowly. You pull away and try to look at his face. “What are you talking about?” You ask, fear filling you again. He looks into your eyes, letting one of his hands slide down to the curve of your ass. You instantly put your hands on his chest and try to push him away. “You can’t be sweet to me and expect me not to like it.” His voice was different now, desperate. He presses his face into your neck, sloppily kissing up to your jaw.

Your heart is beating out of your chest now, and you stop fighting, not wanting to anger him. “You don’t want to cheat on your wife, you’re just drunk.” You try to break through to him. “You don’t know me.” He says, pulling you towards the back yard. “No I don’t, but you seem like a good man, don’t let a drunken mistake ruin what you’ve built for yourself.” You keep trying to persuade him.

“I wasn’t drunk earlier, when I watched you bend over in my living room, dripping wet. I wanted you then, just didn’t say anything.” He says, pressing you against your cousins house. He breathes in your face, and you smell more than beer on his breath, whiskey was pungently invading your nose. “So what? You like me or something?” You ask, confused on where this was going.

“Something like that.” He says, pressing his lips to yours. You’re shocked, you thought you were gonna be able to talk your way out of it. “This isn’t right.” You stop the kiss, nodding towards his trailer. You look between his eyes and try to find some common sense. “Then why does it feel right?” He grabs your hand, forcing you to cup the hard mass in his pants.

You gasp, you’d never felt one before, your virginity not up for debate, you’d never even had a boyfriend. “See, you like it too.” It’s like he’s trying to convince you. You look between him and the houses, searching for a witness. When you couldn’t find a soul, you stop fighting all together. He feels your body relax and takes it as permission to pull your leggings down. “Hey!” You say, but you guess it was too loud for his liking because he covers your mouth with his hand, looking you dead in the eye while his fingers push past your panties and dip inside of you. “You like being scared little girl?” He pulls his hand away from you, licking his fingers and tasting you.

Him reading you like a book was also a turn on. You stay silent, telling him everything he needs to know. He twist your body, pressing your face into the plastic. “Maybe you like it rough too, huh?” He slaps your bare ass, rubbing the raised red welt to soothe it.

You whimper, you’re going to let him have his way with you. If this was the only eventful thing that happens this summer, then what the hell. Tanya wasn’t happy and neither was he, who were you to interfere with destiny?

#avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #neighbor!bucky

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dilftaroooo · 6 days ago

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hello hello helloooo. this is a continuation of my gym bro gojo imagine. You search through gojo’s hamper and fap to his dirty briefs eeeww. the events aren't in chronological order, just the reader's horny experiences

tags: minors dni + gn!reader + reader's sex is unspecified + graphic blowjob + very uhhh testicle-centric ig + satoru rides ur face + oral sex + sex scenes are just fantasies (not real) + perverted reader again + underwear sniffing + scent kink.

You never thought you’d swoop this low. It was beyond an invasion of privacy; crossing the morality border and arriving in the field of degeneracy. Resting in the palm between clammy digits lay a pair of gray briefs -- your roommate's briefs -- Satoru's briefs. You found it by thoroughly searching his hamper, hiding underneath the pile of graphic tees and wifebeaters (don't ask why you were sifting through his dirty clothes in the first place). It's riddled in his potent musk meaning it's been there for a good minute and the scent only reinforced your presumption.

Your flesh crawls under the gusts of wind blowing from his ceiling fan, initiating your blooming wariness as you stand in the middle of his room. You glance to your left at the open door of Satoru's room.

Gojo had left temporarily to pick up some snacks (most likely an abundance of goodies tainted with added sugars and grease). He wouldn’t know what you took from him. How long would it take for someone to find out their briefs were gone? Undergarments are the last thing people think to go missing, right? No. You shouldn't keep them. That would be too over the top.

You decide to sit at the edge of his bed as you fight with yourself internally, staring at the piece of cloth -- cloth made for the most intimate part of the human body. It conceals his groin, from the leaky tip of his mushroom head to his hanging balls. Your mind wanders to something more lascivious as you inquire if he still keeps his pubes. You can imagine him keeping his happy trail, trimming it up a bit, just to keep minds fresh with lust as they look at silver strands of hair starting below his cute belly button and ending beneath the hem of his sweatpants.

Though, you believe the hairs on his balls would be gone for his hookups to gargle on them. He'd be aware of how uncomfortable the hairs would be down their throats. The pleasure would be mutual since he'd be able to feel their wet tongue directly lick the loose skin of his sack. The tendons of his legs would tighten and his toes would clench the floor underneath him as he attempts to keep his groans at bay.

It would be hard for him, undoubtedly so. The wet swell of the appendage would skillfully cup his testicles, sucking in their cheeks and releasing with a degenerate 'pop'. You can envision him tilting his head back to look at the dim ceiling, growling out a shakey 'fuuuck' as he grips the scalp of his fervid hookup -- bobbing their head and relishing in the struggled intakes of air.

You struggle for your own breath as Satoru's room starts to get humid. Materialized images of your hot roommate's sex life plague your head. You were completely unaware of the hand that found itself touching the fabric that barricades your genitals. Fingers grope you in mannerisms you only know; familiar flicks, strokes, and taps composed in patterns you could only produce. A question arises within you: When did you start touching yourself?

Satoru's dirty briefs find solace beneath your nostrils, the crotch region burrowed deep in your face. It was tainted in sweat. It stunk. It stunk with Satoru's smell. However, humiliation was nothing but a distant stranger as it remained near your nose and your fingers continued to dance along that spot that made you writhe.

Another fantasy covered with unapologetic libido haunts you again as Satoru hovers over the apex of your face. Nearly sitting on your collarbones, the base of his cock drifts along the tip of your nose and you juggle his balls with your tongue, the frantic piece of muscle excitingly glides around him, sucking out an unrestrained moan from him. He'd put one hand on his headboard while the other finds purchase on your cheek -- the bulging vein that crawls along his index finger fills your peripherals.

"Look at you, a good little thing taking my balls down your mouth. This is what you've been wanting for a while, huh?" is what he'd say between quivering lips.

His stamina was of a revved-up motor, grinding on your face with sloppy thrusts in search of climax. He'd want you to come with him too, of course -- ordering you to keep pleasuring your filthy fucking sex as he humps your nose like a sly dog. You'd dig the nails of your left hand in his perk ass and he'd clench them in response. You know you'd come for him. You were just as close as he was once you felt his quads shiver near the shell of your ear.

His cock tip would leak precum and your genitals would begin pulsing to the beat of Satoru's thrusts. His sweat glands would open up, seeping out his natural, potent odor. It's bliss for you as you deeply inhale its chemicals like it's gasoline. Sniffing in the toxic fumes for its scent is addictive.

The mere sight of him riding your face as though he's in heat, his must that taints the room, his clenched jawline as he feels himself close to ejaculating; it was all enough to make you cum. And he'd follow suit.

The ropes of semen shoot in the locs of your hair, gluing the strands together. He'd love how it'd decorate you. Like a fucked up Christmas tree. His smile would shine brightly before his form would disintegrate, fading away into atoms.

You'd blink once. Then twice -- man. You finally find the gall to sit up from his bed, making sure there are no bodily fluids left on his sheets before walking up to his hamper. Sinister, opaque clouds slowly start to invade his room, progressively making their way over your head as shame pours over you. How could you do such a thing in HIS own room? A long disappointed sigh sneaks out of your lungs. You'd continue to mope in your room before he catches you standing in his room, caught red-handed.

You were about to throw his briefs on top of the dirty pile of clothes until you saw something peculiar. Bending over to pick up a piece of cloth, you inspect it.

Its red hue was obnoxious and its style was unfitting for Satoru's stature -- or rather his style in general. You rotate the undergarment to find out that it's unexpectedly in your size. You and Satoru weren't even remotely close in size either. He's a big man with big muscles and you're not even in that caliber of staggering height and bulging veins.

You squint at the cloth, deep in thought. Where could these come from? It felt like ages until your eyes widened at a distant memory of laundry day and a feeling of something being missing as you folded each of your clothes to be put away.

Satoru took your underwear?!

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru

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daisyvisions · 9 months ago

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Goldfinger - (k.yh)

➺ Pairing: Agent 007! reader x Younghoon

➺ Summary: You left the force years ago for a good reason. But it’s that same reason why you’re back on the mission, trying to catch him once and for all… Goldfinger.

➺ Word Count: 3.6k

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), fem!reader, unprotected sex, choking, hate sex (if you squint), cowgirl, missionary, overstimulation, handjob, oral (m! receiving), creampies, face slapping, guns, drugs, and alcohol are mentioned, being tied up, dry humping, teasing, pet names used (baby and sweetheart), let me know if I missed anything!

➺ A/N: Very loosely based on the movie. This spy fic is not related to the other Younghoon spy fic I did! This is my entry for The 007 files by the lovely @winterchimez. Proofread once, hope you enjoy! Side note: the song from this movie is my fave so it’s linked up at the end of the fic if you wanna listen!

➺ Network & Tag: @deoboyznet @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers

You stare at the vesper martini in your hand as you slowly swirl it around, watching the liquid move inside the glass. You were sitting by the bar of this incredible mansion. You have never been to a party like this before.

Everyone was dressed to the nines in this lavish event. Everything from the Hors D'oeuvres to the entertainment screamed luxury, it was like you were invited to a party from The Great Gatsby. As you sip from your glass, you reflect back to why you’re even here to begin with…

Goldfinger.

He was your toughest case that suddenly went cold a couple of years back. To be honest, you were incredibly reluctant to take on this case again, having quit the force around the same time the case went dry and after that incident in Monaco when you nearly died because of trying to catch Goldfinger.

You almost had him that time, almost finally being able to place a face to the name since no one knew what Goldfinger looked like (and he planned on keeping it that way). Out of all the cases you’ve done, he was the one that kept you on your feet, kept your heart running a mile a minute, he somewhat made you feel alive again every time you were close to catching him.

But after the incident you vowed to never go back on the force and start a new life. And that’s what you did. Changed your name, moved to a new location, left everyone you knew in order to truly wipe out that chapter in your life. But sometimes you would catch yourself reminiscing those times, especially the Goldfinger case.

He was different from the other villains, that’s what made him interesting. You knew in your heart Goldfinger was more than just a man loaded with money. He was smart, cunning, and very strategic. In some weird and funny way when you think about it, he kind of reminds you of your own boyfriend Younghoon.

How he always kept the excitement in your relationship since the day you met, how he was the first man in your life that matched your intellect like no one had ever done before, and not to mention how much he would spoil you in many ways that he could.

He was truly one of the greatest things to happen in your life ever since you quit the force. You saw a future with him, a quiet and peaceful life, raising your own and spending your days with each other forever. It was like you were made for each other.

But there was one problem… You never revealed to him that you were once an agent.

So when your boss suddenly called you up while you were watching a movie with Younghoon, you panicked.

“Who’s that baby?” He looks over at your phone, a name he did not recognize.

“Oh! That’s Jacob, old friend of mine from when I took my masters.” You quickly respond. “Let me just take this call real quick okay?” You kiss his cheek before getting up.

“Okay, but make it quick. I miss you already.” Younghoon pouts before turning his attention back to the tv.

You slowly close the door of your shared bedroom and instantly swipe open your phone. At first, you were mad at Jacob for calling you after specifically telling him to leave you alone for good. But when he started telling you why he called and mentioned the name Goldfinger, you felt a sudden surge of adrenaline pumping within your veins.

“We have a really good lead and we’re sure to catch him this time around. It’s not like what happened in Monaco I can assure you.” Jacob says.

“It sounds really tempting…” You answer, trying to keep a hush tone so your boyfriend doesn’t hear you. “But I don’t know…”

“Just one last time 007, please? For old time’s sake?” You hear the slight desperation in Jacob’s tone.

You pause for a moment, suddenly remembering all the bad memories attached to Goldfinger. But there was little voice within you was screaming to take on the job. Not only that, but you had a sudden vision of meeting Goldfinger face to face and finally ending his mischief once and for all.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” You sigh heavily.

As you reviewed the case file in your study, you couldn't help but feel off about everything. Was it really a good idea to take this case again? The case that nearly caused your death? Was it to finally close that chapter or was it just for you to relive your glory days as an agent? You shook your head, not wanting to overthink the situation and just jumped right in with what you needed to know and what you were assigned to do.

According to the case file, Goldfinger had been M.I.A the same time you had retired from the force. No one knew where he was or what he was up to until there was sudden activity popping up from the credit card you had tracked years ago.

While the items that were purchased under the credit card weren't out of the ordinary, there was one pattern that stood out to you. The items he had bought seemed to be around the area where you had lived. When you took note of the dates of purchase, you realized they were at a time when you were out with Younghoon too.

Your eyes widened. Had Goldfinger been around you all this time? So close yet so far away? Was he one of the people you sat beside in the train or passed by in your local coffee shop? Whatever it was, it felt like he was mocking you. How he still seems to be right under your nose even after all these years as well as the idea of Younghoon possibly getting into danger bothered you a lot.

It should’ve frightened you, how your past seemed to cling onto you no matter what you did, but instead made you want to catch him even more.

The motivation you once felt being on this case was alive and kicking. As with every case you got into, you knew you would have to face whatever consequences there will be.

Even if it meant leaving the love of your life behind.

“Do you really have to go?” Younghoon’s raspy voice whispered in your ear as he kissed the spot under your earlobe. His body collapsing on top of you after you two come down from your highs after an intense night of lovemaking.

“It’s a reunion with my friends from master’s school. Can’t pass it up otherwise it will take years for us to see each other again.” You breathe out heavily. Your core throbs slightly as you feel him pull out and his cum slowly spilling out of you.

“Does it really have to be so far away?” He pouts as he helps you get cleaned up with a warm hand towel.

“Paris is not THAT far.” You chuckle, sitting up to grab the water he held in his hand.

“Why don’t you take me with you? Please?” He looks at you with doe eyes. How could say no to a face like that?

“It will be quick, I promise Hoon.” You cup his face and his forehead tenderly.

“Okay.” He smiles, before reaching for your waist and swiftly pulling you on top of him. His mischievous smile already telling you what he wants as you feel his member become hard beneath you again.

“Then let’s make the most of this night baby.”

“Agent!” You snap back into reality as you hear Jacob shouting in your earpiece.

“Wha-yeah what’s up?” You ask.

“He’s here…” Your heart starts racing at those two words.

Goldfinger, finally in the same vicinity as you are. Just a few feet away from you somewhere in this mansion.

“Which one is he?” You sit up properly and adjust your dress, checking if the gun strapped to your thigh is still in place.

“The tall man by the buffet table, talking to the ambassador of Norway. He’s wearing a gold masquerade mask.”

“On it.”

You down your martini before hopping off the bar stool and placing your own mask back on. You walk around the party while you keep you eye on Goldfinger’s figure, making sure you keep a good distance from him. As soon as he walks up the grand stairs and disappears into one of the rooms in the mansion, you make your way in the crowd and follow him.

As you stealthily walk towards the room he entered, you notice the door was left slightly open, allowing you to peek inside and see what was going on. You could see the back of Goldfinger facing you as he opened and a bottle of whiskey a poured a glass for himself.

There he is, you thought to yourself. You were slightly in awe seeing his figure and surprised to find out that he was not the old fat man you thought he might be. In fact, he appeared to be around your age.

While you were lost in thought, you failed to notice a henchman coming up from behind you and smothers you with a handkerchief, instantly knocking you out with whatever drug was laced on the fabric.

You slowly wake up to the sound of classical music being played while hearing the muffled sounds of the people outside the room. As you come back to your senses, you realize you were placed lying down on the king sized bed in the suite.

At first you thought it was all a dream, until you feel your hands tied behind your back and your earpiece missing. You suddenly squirm, trying to let yourself free from the restraint until-

“Struggling will only make it worse 007.”

The deep voice making you turn your attention to the living room across. The same figure you had caught a glimpse of, drinking from his whiskey glass before getting up to saunter towards you. The aura around him was so intense you couldn’t help but just freeze and stare at Goldfinger.

As soon as he got to the foot of the bed, he gently pulls your legs towards him, making you sit at the edge while he slowly kneels in front of you.

“I must say, I didn’t expect my 007 to be woman. A pretty one at that.” Goldfinger says with a sultry tone. You know you shouldn’t have reacted that way, but when he said “my” you felt your cheeks become warm. And the way he said you were pretty even if you still had your mask on made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Keep it together agent!

“At last, we finally meet face to face after all these years.” He caresses your knees as he looks up at you.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think of your first real interaction with Goldfinger would end up like this. And it doesn’t help at the fact the more you try to see his face under the mask, you could tell that he was definitely a handsome man.

But there was definitely something about him that seemed oddly familiar, you just couldn’t name it…

“Bet you missed me too didn’t you?” You tease back. “It’s been a couple of years.”

“Oh yes I have, sweetheart.” He smirks. “Thought about you sometimes while I was on a… break.”

His hands slowly caress your thighs, goosebumps forming on your skin when you feel his hand on the exposed area of your dress. You try to hide the little gasp that comes out of your mouth but fail miserably. His smile grows wider knowing the effect he has on you.

You were so caught up staring into his eyes that you didn't even notice him getting up quick and toppling over you. His body hovers above yours as his hand places your tied wrists above your head.

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me Mr. Goldfinger?” You tease him again. He lowers his head and whispers in your ear.

“Why don’t you take a guess?” His hand instantly pulls out his golden pistol and points it under your jaw. You try to free yourself as much as you can but the weight of his body holds you in place, making you suddenly scared for your life once again.

“Let me see your face 007. I want to see the face of my favorite agent before she turns into gold.”

He pulls away from you and removes the mask from your face. Not even a second at looking at your face, Goldfinger suddenly gasps and drops the gun. It looked like he saw a ghost by the way his eyes widened.

“Fuck this can’t be real.” He panics.

“What do you mea-”

Before you could even ask, he removes his own mask, finally revealing to you his own face. You both stare at each other wide eyed, hearts pumping loudly at the shocking revelation happening before you.

“…Y-younghoon?” you stutter. “Is that you?”

“Baby, what the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you were with your friends.”

“And I thought you were back home! Oh my god-” You cover your face with your tied wrists, trying to wipe the tears forming in your eyes.

Suddenly you remember all the little things that made you feel like Younghoon was similar to Goldfinger. It was like it all flashed before you. Here you thought you were the only one keeping secrets, but it looks like your boyfriend was keeping some skeletons in the closet as well.

Younghoon runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to regain his composure, still trying to grasp at the fact the love of his life happens to be the very person out to kill him.

“What are we going to do now?” He looks at you with sadness in his eyes.

Instead of answering him, you sit up and lunge forward, making you both fall off the bed as you topple over his body this time. He struggles to get the gun near his hand, but you’re able to swat it out before he does.

You hold his neck with your hands still tied together, slowly adding pressure to his throat as he tries to pull your arms away. Tears start to fall from your eyes. You would never hurt Younghoon, not in a million years. You never told him about your life in the force to avoid anything bad happening to him. But here you were, trying to kill him.

You felt so confused on what to do. But at the back of your mind, you knew you had to get the job done. To finally put him behind bars once and for all, even if your heart would be broken in the process.

As you attempt to place more pressure on his throat, your eyes grow wide as he suddenly groans out of impulse. His cock slowly becoming erect beneath you in the position you’re both in, his bulge pressing on your panty covered core.

“Don’t do that Hoon…” You whine as you try to take control of the situation.

“I can’t help it! You look absolutely gorgeous in this dress baby.” His eyes look you up and down, making you get a bit shy.

“And the way you want to kill me right now? Holy shit it’s fucking turning me on.” Younghoon groans again, his member throbbing beneath you as he soaks up the sight in front of him.

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” You say.

“But don’t you like it hard?” He smirks, but you instantly slap his face with the back of your hand, trying to get him to shut up but you know it’s not working because you feel him throbbing under you again.

“Well, before you take me in agent, can I at least request for one last thing?” He proposes.

“And what would that be Mr. Goldfinger?” You raise one eyebrow.

“Want you to use me-” He said bluntly.

“I’m sorry?” Your eyebrows scrunch together.

“You clearly have a lot of anger you want to let out, why not use it on me instead? One last taste of you before you send me off to the sharks.”

You felt so conflicted. You needed to stop Younghoon right now before he disappears again (or worse, even kill you) but at the same time you are just as turned on as he is….

“Fuck it.” You lunged forward and hungrily kiss him on the lips. He instantly grabs your hips and makes them roll back and forth, moaning at the way he can feel your wet core rubbing against his crotch.

You continue to roll your hips as Younghoon grabs your wrists and unties the rope holding them together. As soon as you’re set free your hands start to slip to his belt, hastily unbuckling them as you slide your hand in his pants, eager to fist his length like you’ve never done before.

Younghoon’s moans grow louder as you pump his cock in your hand, your tongue snaking its way into his mouth. His hands cup your breasts, kneading them as you both touch each other like a pair of twenty-year olds in college. You both help each other up from the floor and onto the bed, removing each other’s clothes as you continue your ministrations.

You waste no time going down on him, leaving a trail of hot kisses from his jaw until his abdomen before licking a stripe on his cock and taking the whole size in your mouth. Younghoon held your hair as you worked your mouth on him, the sounds of slurping and the way the tip would hit the back of your throat made his eyes roll back in pleasure.

You release him with a pop, giving his length a few pumps before straddling his lap and sinking down on his cock without any warning. You both moan at the stretch, but you start rolling your hips not waiting to adjust to his size.

“Baby, slow down for a moment-” He tries to grab your hips but instead you grab his wrists and pin them down against the mattress.

“Not after everything you put me through and lied about it!” You grind on his cock as hard as you can, using all the energy you have to chase your own high. Usually between the two of you, you’re the one that easily breaks. But this time around, it was Younghoon who breaks first .

“How was I supposed to know?! Fuck I think I’m gonna-” Younghoon doesn’t even have time to warn you because he’s already bursting inside you, the hardest he has ever done in his life. But you didn’t care, you were gonna ride him until he started to shake and cry under you.

“Sweetheart wait-” Younghoon starts to bite down on his bottom lip, trying not to let the feeling of his overstimulated cock affect him. But eventually he couldn’t hold it out much longer as you kept on aggressively riding his member.

Tears were falling down his eyes, he had never felt this during sex before, but seeing you angrily fuck the life out of him turned him on so much he ended up cumming inside you again as you finally reached your high.

You collapsed on top of him, panting against his neck as his cock continues to throb inside you. He was about to kiss your temple like he always did, but you suddenly pulled away from him and sat at the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as you still try to grasp everything that happened.

But before you could even turn around to face him, Younghoon smothers you with a handkerchief making you fall asleep from the drug once again.

The moment you’re knocked out cold, Younghoon gets up to grab his clothes, dressing himself up before placing your clothes back on too. He adjusts the way you’re lying down on his bed, making sure you’re all comfortable before tracing his finger on your jaw. Looking at your face one last time and placing a kiss on your forehead before he leaves.

You wake up in your hotel room in a panic, feeling like everything that had happened was a dream. You hold your head in your hand as you feel it aching. You look around to the room and see a tray of your favorite food on a table alongside the pain medication you needed to drink.

You felt so out of it. Maybe it was a dream after all, you told yourself. As you walk over to tray and sit down, you spot a letter beside the drink. You hold it up to see what it was, but your eyes widen at the familiar gold initials at the front of the envelope.

You hastily rip out the paper to look inside the contents of the letter, slouching your back onto the chair. Your heart starts to ache from the many emotions flooding through you, especially with the words written down,

Until we meet again. -Younghoon

#kim younghoon #younghoon #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #younghoon smut #younghoon scenarios #tbz smut #the boyz scenarios #kpop smut #tbz hard hours #🔎 — the 007 files

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