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#my first fanfic that I read almost a year ago
stormblessed95 · 2 days
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Hello Storm,
where is the ending line between "good" shipping and "bad" shipping?
I'm talking about fictional characters AND real persons from various media and genres ,canon and non-canon.
As a BL fan and mostly a fanfic reader for almost 15+ years (!), four years ago Jikook became my first rps couple and I decided it will be definitely the LAST .
Some limits and boundaries around BTS' shipping community got crossed several times with poor taste and insane thoughts .
So now I started to questioning things ..for example, maybe it's better to go back to canon BL-media, leave the members alone and focusing - only musically speaking - to the group ?
Going cold turkey on Ao3 ? Avoiding shipping AND supporting spaces in general?
Too many questions and I admit I'm a overthinker, but after the Tkk french book maybe is really getting out of control for everyone.
Hello my love! As a very avid shipper since a very young age, who before Jikook, doesn't really engage in RPS spaces either, I 1000% get what you mean. So here is where I'm going to link you to a bunch of different posts I've made before that cover this topic. Will you come back and let me know if they helped or not? 💜
This post covers the question what is shipping culture in kpop
This post is about the question, what are ship wars?
This post is I think where I draw that line of what is good shipping (supporting Jikook as individuals and potentially queer ones at that) and bad shipping.
Dealing with rumors about RPS ships by shippers post here
Respecting Privacy Post here
And here is my post where I talk about fanfiction in real person ships. You'll notice the tkkr hate book is an example that falls directly under my "things not to do and cross lines and aren't okay" paragraph. Lol
In the end, do whatever you are most comfortable with. Outside of my blog and a few others, I do not engage with a ton of RPS fics. I read some that are sent to me from friends I trust to engage in that stuff nicely and correctly and that's basically it. I've gotten a few recs from here also and only read the ones that sounded like I would be comfortable with. In fandom spaces, you have to interact with them in whatever way works best for you personally. And if you can quit ao3 cold turkey, I would so shocked and impressed 😂 I could never. I have 10 ao3 tabs open right now lmfao
Hope those posts help 💜💜💜
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ave661 · 1 year
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Ghosts & Mirages
Happy birthday @stararch4ngelqueen !!! ♥ Luv ya
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transkingcobra · 6 months
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Okay I got this idea while trying to sleep last night and then proceeded to write most of it until 3am instead of just noting it rip
Finished this scenario and I actually mostly like it for not having written in ages and I never feel like I capture others’ characters correctly
Halsin x m!named!Tav
(x2 but mainly focusing on one in this)
Diex finds himself jealous and then proceeds to panic about it. Halsin snaps him out of it and talks him through it.
Mainly angst I guess, ‘tis sfw, moment of jealousy not aimed at other current partner if that matters to anyone, anxiety/panic attack, going nonverbal for a bit, I think that is everything?
A little background/explanation before the lil fic because I know I’ve shared not a damn thing about these two but it should be completely skippable, just know that Diex is a changeling in his tiefling persona to start this. If you’re confused you can always go back to read it after and/or send asks, was trying to keep it short I’m already rambling
Background info:
First and foremost, Nix and Diex are changeling brothers who both fell for Halsin. I want to emphasize there is nothing between the brothers other than being brothers, no incest, they do not share Halsin in those moments.
Nix (ranger) is mute and solely communicates via signs or writing (I think I wrote it understandably but the quotes that are italicized are signed). Diex (druid) is with him 99% of the time so he’ll translate signing to spoken language for ease/speed of communication to others.
They’re technically not “Tavs” as in neither of them is the leader and they’re not worm-wielders, another bean is in the “Tav position” but I didn’t even mention him in this. They were hanging out to help out with the tieflings in the grove (as their tiefling personas) before joining the group.
Context for slight mention of their past, Diex was on the run for 10 years where both brothers were completely alone before finally finding each other again.
The brothers usually use their tiefling personas to travel with the group since that is the one the party knows and met them in, and drop it at camp since they prefer to just be themselves.
I think that is all but let me know if something feels missing?
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Today was a prep day, everybody gathering potions and ammunitions, sharpening weapons, preparing spells. Halsin and Diex wandered vendor stalls together in the city, looking for anything the others had need of. The two became lost in their own worlds and drifted a few stalls apart before the changeling started to notice a woman’s obnoxious flirting.
“I’ll bet those strong hands of yours can do far more than that.” The woman’s advances earned an amused hum from the man she had her sights on. Wait. Diex lifted his gaze and turned to where the voices had come from and, sure enough, there she was standing and staring at Halsin. He didn’t hear anything else that was said; his feet took him over to his bear immediately. Arms wrapped around Halsin’s waist, Diex flashed the woman a dirty look, made worse by his morphing face but angled so the much taller druid couldn’t see.
“Well, I should uh, be getting home!” The woman grew visibly uncomfortable at his show and left in a hurry. He didn’t move, just watched her leave as his tiefling tail swayed behind him.
“Diex?” Halsin’s voice is all it takes to snap the clingy changeling out of it. He’s suddenly out of his head and in the market again, clung to his large elf. Embarrassment and shame hit him like a tidal wave. Halsin isn’t only his.
His arms fell away from the other druid and he took a step back, not sure he wanted to look Halsin in the face.
“I- I am so sorry- …Halsin I-“
“Calm, my heart. I am not angry.” A gentle hand found Diex’s chin and lifted his gaze. Halsin’s face was that of gentle concern, not anger, although Diex wasn’t sure if that was better at the moment. “Are you alright?”
“I…” He couldn’t hold the eye contact anymore, couldn’t form words, and suddenly he realized his heart felt like it was ready to escape his chest. He wanted to run, but he knew he couldn’t. Or well, shouldn’t. Not this time. He wasn’t doing that again. Not again…
The caress on his chin left only to take his hand with a gentle squeeze.
“Let us go back to the tavern.”
Diex nodded silently in response, letting Halsin guide him through the city. His mind spun like a hurricane only to crash and fall completely blank, then spin again.
Halsin was being calm, gentle, concerned even. Yet, Diex had just gone against what he had agreed to, to let the bear roam. He acted a clingy, possessive teen to their first love. Well… Halsin was his first, but he’s no kid. He should’ve known better. Been better. Halsin didn’t deserve to deal with this. Diex should’ve just said no before. Let Nix lie with Halsin in camp alone. The quiet brother was more level-headed. Mature. He thought before he acted, didn’t make stupid mistakes. Some days Diex still wasn’t quite used to living around so many people, but Nix adapted well. He lived the way he hunted, patiently with no missteps. Yes, he should’ve just said no. The minor ache of losing a crush would’ve been far more manageable than what was going to happen when they made it back to the tavern.
The Elfsong… Diex’s stomach twisted as they entered the establishment. The noise of the tavern’s crowd barely felt like it reached his ears. The stairs felt like far too many to climb yet not nearly enough to keep him away from what was to come. The common area around the main fireplace and hallway felt like he had only taken two steps before they made it to the room Halsin was using. The one he usually shared with one or both of the changelings. Diex heard the door close and felt it in his heart. He dropped his tiefling persona and stood feeling bare in front of Halsin.
The room felt suffocating. The first moments felt like hours. Every fiber of his being wanted to run again. To leave the room, the tavern, the city, the people behind. Instead, two strong hands found his shoulders, gentle but steady, and a low voice brought him back to himself.
“My love, you’re shaking…”
Halsin was right; Diex had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts he didn’t notice how unsteady he was. Did the others see? Was anybody even there as they passed the common area to get to the room? Was Nix there? Although the shaking wouldn’t have made a difference for Nix, the two knew each other far too well. The elder brother would have known something was wrong anyway.
Halsin gently sat them both down, holding Diex close but gently enough he could pull away easily. They had fought countless foes on this journey and had more than a few terrifying encounters. Diex had never flinched at those dangers yet here he was a near mess and panicked.
“My love, speak to me…” Hands left Diex as Halsin signed a broken “Please, what are you thinking?”
Bless Halsin, the man had taken up learning as many signs as he could during their travels and the brokenness pulled Diex a little more out of his own head.
“I’m stupid.” Diex couldn’t remember teaching that sign, Halsin is far too kind to need use of it, but maybe Nix did for whatever reason. The larger druid wiped a newly fallen tear from the changeling’s cheek before signing a request for Diex to spell the word he signed. “…stupid.” His voice cracked and was barely a whisper.
“I disagree.” A warm kiss graced the pale man’s head. “But you do have yourself worked up terribly, so when you are able I hope we can talk about where your mind is right now.”
By the gods, how can a man be so gentle? Diex leaned into Halsin’s chest, letting himself be held once more.
“I just… sorry I chased her off.” A low hum rumbled in Halsin’s chest.
“I am not angry, my heart. And I was not returning her advances.” A chuckle lightly shook them. “You and Nix keep me very occupied in that regard.” Diex couldn’t help the faintest hint of a smile start to form on his lips, but it quickly faded.
“…but if you did? Want to…return them? And I ruined it…” As much as he was certain it was over, Halsin felt safe. He curled himself into the bear, wrapping his arms around Halsin’s waist.
“I would still not be angry.” Halsin’s answer was soft, steady. Patient.
“But I-! We agreed that-“ Calloused fingertips hushed Diex’s onslaught of worry. He finally lifted his gaze to meet Halsin’s, those hazel eyes obviously choosing his next words.
“Nix told me I was his first in every way, and that I was more than likely yours as well. I do not expect either of you to know exactly how you are going to feel and react to a new lover. Nor do I expect you to hold yourself to that agreement should you discover it doesn’t work for you. But, I do, however, expect and ask you to be honest with yourself and with me.” Halsin’s hand lowered to caress the changeling’s cheek. “I do not wish to see you so worried. I would not want to lose you as a partner, but I would hate to see you go against your nature for me. If you ever find this does not work for you, please say so.”
“I…” For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Diex’s mind was calm. Halsin’s words comforted him but those eyes soothed his very soul. He was allowed the space to just be. Love and learn, wherever that took him. “Thank you.” He realized he’d honestly not put much thought into sharing Halsin beyond his brother, or even beyond the tadpole party just outside the door. Gods know they’d each bed him in the right situation. Though, now he’d really need to consider Halsin with a complete stranger, however odd a thought that felt to him at the moment. But he didn’t have to figure it all out immediately.
Diex stared into those gorgeous eyes a moment longer before pressing his lips to Halsin’s, soft and knowing, a promise he’d keep. Halsin gently rubbed a thumb over the pale cheek.
“Your eyes are beautiful.” Halsin spoke with a sense of gentle awe, and the comment caught Diex so off guard that he felt a blush rise to his cheeks. His eyes were beautiful? They were but a blank slate; Halsin’s eyes were beautiful. The way they glimmered as he chuckled only proved the point even more.
“What?” Diex huffed half a laugh, not seeing what his bear found funny now.
“Your eyes turned hazel. Mine, I presume?” Oh. Well, if he wasn’t visibly blushing before, his face was red now, quickly turning away and actively dismissing his unintended eye color.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” It’s been a long time since he’s morphed unintentionally, and never had he mimicked someone, even purposefully.
“You’ve nothing to apologize for, my heart.”
“Gods… that’s twice today I’ve felt like a child.”
“Perhaps I could read you a bedtime story and tuck you in tonight?” Halsin chuckled as he teased, although something in Diex said the bear would do so if he genuinely asked.
“No! If you must read someone to sleep with bedtime stories, I’ll sleep alone and let Nix have you to himself tonight.”
They laughed and held each other close. Halsin was content Diex had settled back into himself, reassured in his arms.
There was a knock at the door, a pattern familiar only to Diex. He returned it tapping on the wooden floor, loud enough for Nix to hear outside. The ranger walked in, closing the door behind him before sitting next to the druid pretzel.
“I didn’t interrupt, did I? Are you alright? The expressions the two of you had got Karlach pacing.” Ah, so they did see. Diex habitually released Halsin to sign his response.
“Yeah, I’m good now. Do I have to let Karlach squeeze me so she doesn’t burn down the Elfsong?” The younger changeling’s smile and soft chuckle at the thought seemed to relieve Nix of some concern.
“It wouldn’t hurt. Well, maybe a little for you. Maybe wildshape first.” The two druids laughed at Nix’s idea, who let out his own amused breath.
The three of them eventually joined the rest of the party for dinner. Karlach got her hug, of course, after much assurance that Diex was fine. Most of them were confused about what she was even concerned over, much to his relief. He knew Shadowheart and Astarion could be nosy, but even they let it drop when he said it was between him and Halsin. Although, Nix’s blank stare from behind his younger brother may have pushed them to stay quiet.
The three would talk more later, if not just the brothers. Nix might have advice for how he’s been navigating the relationship. Then again, he may not know what he’s doing either. But that was for later. Right now, he had good food to enjoy and even better company to enjoy it with.
————
I hope Halsin felt like Halsin, I never feel like I write characters correctly anyway and trying to write about a relationship where one of them literally says that word is “unfamiliar to [his] lips” feels weird, but also a friendship is a relationship so 🤷‍♂️ and some shit just felt weird using any words, fanfic wiggle room I guess. Hope I did him justice in any case lol.
I do wanna write/draw more about these guys, funny enough I have more ideas about Nix with Halsin than Diex, but the writing demons possessed me for this specific idea last night lmao. Their dynamics are fun in my head plus the idea of exploring the brothers running into another changeling who is very not nice and everything they avoid being is something I wanna do as well cough even if orin has bs abilities for a changeling cough Nix was my first dnd character I made without help and a few years later played his brother, while now bringing them into bg3 has been living in my head rent free lol
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comments on fanfics
I thought about writing this post for a long time and decided, fuck it, I'm gonna write this.
All over my dash I see people being disappointed because nobody is leaving comments on ao3 anymore/rebloging things on tumblr.
And the only thing I can think about this is: it's so true.
Two weeks ago I posted the epilog of my 60k words fanfic (I've been writing on it for almost a year and got some positive feedback on it) and I got ZERO comments, or kudos on the epilog.
I can see that people klicked on it, but I have no idea whether they liked it or not. (And I used to get a comment on my story now and then)
Last week I posted the first extra chapter (I planned three of these) and also got no reaction.
No I'm just sitting here, wondering if my writing is just true shit.
This is also the reason I was hesitate to post this. Maybe it's not the people and just that shithole of a story I've been writing.
Things like are just running around my head now and must say that the motivation to even finish those extra chapters is gone.
GUYS, IF YOU LIKE A FANFIC PLEASE LET THE AUTHOR KNOW, IT MEANS SO MUCH TO THEM.
So if you read a good story, not some bullshit like mine, write that comment.
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sturnlsstuff · 22 days
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MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo
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| ".... god, i hate that i missed you so much"
pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader
summary: your dealer has been out of town for almost two weeks and after he's finally back, he texts you needing to see you.
warnings; smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, pet names, praising, unprotected sex, dirty talking, hair pulling, rough sex, car sex, crying, public¿ sex, cursing, mdni
a/n: literally my first fanfic after a looong time so please bear with me, if its bad... you know why. english isnt my first language so sorry for any mistakes! also its a little long 😭 part two here !!
~~~
she laughed at some joke her friend made and took another bite of her pizza. it was late friday afternoon, she and her bestfriends were hanging out, since there was nothing else to do. everything was great, until her phone buzzed. she looks at her screen, immediately smiling when she sees his name. she wasn't even aware that her lips had curved into a smile.
her friends were too busy with their own conversation, so she uses her moment and grabs her phone, reading the message from chris. she hasn't heard from him in over two weeks, she had no clue what he was doing, or where he was. she also didn't want to ask, hating the feeling of being too desperate. and it's not like he owns her any explanation either.
chris: u busy?
she bites her lip, fighting the urge to smile again as she replies back.
y/n: hi to you too
y/n: yeah im out with friends, whats up
chris: having fun?
chris: when u gonna be home ma?
y/n: like in an hour or so
chris: can u hurry up? c'mon kid i miss ya
y/n: you do???
she can't help but genuinely grins this time, her eyes widen a little. did he miss her? or was he just saying that to make her give in? he always knew how to talk to her, to make her going feral over him. but she wanted to believe he means it this time.
chris: hell yeah i do
chris: get ur ass out here
she looks at her friends, that were still yapping about something, that she couldn't care less about right now. she needed to see him. he never said he missed her before.
y/n: then come pick me up, im sending u the address
chris: omw gorgeous
chris is already in his car, when she sends him the address. not being able to see her for over two weeks, made him think. A lot. he has been her drug dealer for over a year now, there was tension between them since the beginning, so it didnt take them long to finally fuck at some party a few months ago. and since then, it's happening every now and then, usually they meet to smoke together, then they end up all over each other.
after a few minutes, he parks the car in front of the pizzeria, finally seeing her. she made a stupid excuse for her friends to leave, not being able to hide her excitement, so they just could assume what was going on.
chris gets out of the car, looking her up and down, licking his lips as she was only wearing a black crop top and baggy camo pants. he personally loved those, especially on her.
he opens the door for her, a smirk playing on his lips. "get in."
she tried her hardest to act casual, but just seeing him after a while, in all black outfit, was enough to make her dizzy. and she could swear he got a haircut. his hair was so much shorter, and she loved it.
she smiles, keeping the eye contact while getting inside the car. he closes the door, his eyes roaming all over her body as she walked towards him. he snaps back to reality, getting to the other side and climbing back into the drivers seat. he was feeling so many things that he couldn't express.
"missed me so bad, you couldn't wait an hour, huh?" she speaks up, putting on the seatbelt and looking over at him, while he starts the car.
she notices the way he looks her up and down, his eyes stopping at her exposed skin a little too long.
"i've missed my favorite customer." he smirks, going back to the eye contact.
"yeah, your favorite customer... right." she says sarcastically, trying her hardest to keep her cool and not to blush under his stare.
he grins before replying, focused on keeping his hands on the wheel instead of her body. it was getting harder with every second. "yeah, the one i always gotta give free stuff to."
"oh, dont act like i force you to do this..." she scoffs, still looking at him. "you know i always want to pay you."
"i know y'do... doesn't mean i will stop givin' it to you for free though."
"see, and that's crazy."
chris rolls his eyes, loving and hating at the same time, how she always had to talk back to him. he's driving, planning to go to her house, but the way she's looking right now, and especially her attitude, is making him crazy. he feels his dick getting harder with every second.
"whatever, ma. i know you secretly like it."
"yeah, sure." she mumbles with sarcastic tone, her eyes still watching him. seeing him driving was one of her favorite things in the world, he always looked so good. she appreciates, that he gives her stuff for free or cuts down her prices, but dealing was his job, he was making money out of it, so she always felt bad when he didnt want her cash. "what made you busy for so long? thought the cops caught or some shit"
chris bites his lip, his eyes glancing over to her for a second, before focusing back on the road. he never felt so desperate like right now, just having her in his car like that...
once he hears her question, he snaps back to reality and smiles. "the cops? please, sweetheart, they can suck my dick."
chris changes his direction, spotting an empty parking lot and he drives there. "i was out of town, had to deal with some business... nothin' to worry about now." he explains, parking and turning off his car, and his stare travels to her, scanning her face and body. "you're so curious...."
she nods, now understanding why he wasn't texting her these past two weeks, she was a bit ashamed 'cause she honestly thought maybe he got bored of her, so she didn't text him either. she still got some weed until yesterday, so she also had no reason to.
"why would you stop here?" she asks, looking at him with a little frown, but once she sees his smirk, the realization hits her. the excitement filling her body, the tension between them so noticeable, it makes her shiver.
he stares at her for a moment, adjusting his pants and then suddenly he unbuckles his seatbelt, sitting back in his seat so there was more space now.
"c'mere."
her eyes travels down on his lap, seeing the noticeable big bulge even through his jeans. she blushes slightly, looking back at him, the smirk still playing on his lips and it makes her weak in her knees.
"chris..." he cuts her off by reaching over and grabbing her chin, tilting her face closer to his.
"y'gonna do what i said, or keep talking back?"
she immediately unbuckles her seatbelt, moving over the center console and she gets into his lap, straddling him. she wasn't gonna act like she didn't miss him too, because, goddamn, she did. she presses herself onto his hard dick, watching him closely, and seeing how desperate and frustrated he was right now. It made her feel a little bit of a power, that she decided to take advantage of.
"now, was that so hard, ma?" he smirks even more, trying to hide his growing need for her, but his hands moves to grip onto her thighs. he felt the urge to touch her all over.
"you know, fifteen more minutes and we would be at my place-"
"you really think, i would wait fifteen fucking minutes, when i havent seen you for two weeks, and you look like that?" he loves the way she looks at him, with such admiration. she was so pretty in his eyes, he never felt this type of desperation for anyone ever before.
"and who's fault is that?" his hands grips her tighter and puts her closer in on his lap, making a little bit of friction, that he so desperately needs. his fingers digging into her skin, while he stares into her eyes.
"shut up for once, yeah?"
"make me." she smirks, challenging him. he doesn't have to hear it twice, loving the attitude she's giving him right now. his hand moves up from her thigh to the back of her neck, pulling her face closer and he kisses her roughly, grabbing her ass with his other hand as he does.
she smiles against his lips, immediately kissing him back with the same intensity, and she grinds down against his clothed dick, feeling her own need growing with every second. she missed the way he kissed her, she missed his lips, his hands all over her, his body against hers. she missed him and she hated to admit that.
she slides her tongue into his mouth, he bites her lip in response and lets her lead the kiss. moving up his hips to feel her more and not being able to hold back, he groans against her lips. he never felt so needy before. he pulls away for a moment to speak, and starts trailing kisses down her neck, squeezing her ass, before his hand moves up, caressing the skin on her exposed stomach.
"god, i hate that i missed you so much."
it slips from his mouth, he doesn't think much about it as he sucks on her skin, but for her it meant everything. she tilts back her head, giving him more space and she grinds against his lap some more, running her hand through his brown hair. he lets out a growl as she grinds down on him, making him even harder and he bucks his hips up again. lifting up his head from her neck his stare finds hers, the noticeable lust in his eyes made her bite her lip to hold back a moan. the smirk coming back to his face once he notices her flushed cheeks.
"what 'bout you, huh, ma? missed me too?"
she closes her eyes, their face so close to each other, it makes their lips brush when she replies him back.
"yeah... i did"
he grins, his hands playing with the waistband of her pants. that's all he needed to know, that she missed him as much as he missed her. even though they both were aware, they should'nt.
"how much, hm?" he unzips her pants, she lifts herself up, gripping his shoulders to balance herself and helps him take them off. then she straddles him again, trying to hold back her smile, but not being able to.
"want me to show you?"
he groans after her words, feeling her wet panties pressing against his hard dick and he bucks up his hips again, being so desperate, that he was ready to beg her. he starts marking her neck again, his hand traveling between her legs, massaging her clit through her underwear. her breath hitches in her throat, she lets out a little whine and grips his hair slightly.
"so wet already... shiiiitttt... all this f'me, huh?" he says against her skin, bitting on it slightly and making her moan. he adds more pressure, circling over her clit. "lift this shit up."
his tone demanding, he wasn't asking. she lifts up her top, revealing her breasts. he looks at her now, his eyes going back and forth between her tits, and her face. "fuck... not wearing a bra? fuckin' slut..."
he licks her hard nipple, then starting sucking on it. her hand tightens in his hair, tilting her head back and she lets out more whimpers. she was supposed to be the one in control this time, she craved it and saw how needy he is, but the way he's touching her, makes her losing her mind. he then pulls her panties to the side, running his fingers through her wet folds and suddenly putting one inside her. not even giving her any time, he just starts pumping in and out, adding another finger after a moment, now stretching her out. he pulls away from her nipple, looking at her face.
"c-chris..." she moans quietly, trying her hardest to keep the eye contact, but struggles to do so. her hands now traveling down his chest and unbuckling his belt.
"yeah, ma? y'like that?" he tries to keep his cool, still working his fingers inside her dripping pussy, curling them and making her whine in response. "look at you... so, fuckin' desperate on my lap. missed my fingers, huh? want some more?"
she desperately nods, squeezing around his fingers, but once he feels that, he pulls them out immediately putting them in his mouth to lick them clean. she whines, pouting her lips when he stops.
"show me how much you missed this dick then."
she bites her lip, unzipping his pants and with his help, she pulls them down to his knees, his boxers following after a second. chris leans his head back against the seat, gripping her hips as she gives him a few strokes before pulling her underwear to the side. she runs her thumb over his tip, collecting the precum and spreading it all over his cock, using it as a lubricant and then she lowers herself slowly on his cock, the movement making them both moan out loud with pleasure. she stays like this for a moment, needing to adjust after these past two weeks without him.
"fuckk...so tight...your pussy was made f'me.." he groans, tightening his grip on her hips and he watches her closely, as she finally starts moving on him. he’s holding himself back from moving up his hips and taking over, trying so hard not to thrust into her. he loves the feeling of her body against his and he’s missed it so much. he needed it, he needed her and he hated that. the feeling just kept growing, making the space in the car feel even smaller.
he pulls her back down into another kiss, this time more sloppy, continuing to move his tongue against hers, tasting her. she kisses him back, starting speeding up her pace and now bouncing on him harder. his dick hitting just all the right spots, making her moan loudly while chris tries to focus on the kiss and not to lose his composure. he wanted to take over, he always did, but the feeling of her riding him like that, has him gripping the seat. he grits his teeth, trying to keep himself together and he knows his patience wont last long. he looks up at her again, his eyes glued to her face.
"fuckkkk, ma.... takin' all of me so well... shit..." he hisses, when she speeds up even more. "so good.... s-so good f'me...."
she grips into his shoulders more, moaning loudly at his praises and she continues moving. chris is in complete ecstasy as she picks the pace up, a feeling like he hasn’t experienced before. there's just something about her on top and taking what she wants, that's got him feeling so many things at once.
“fuck.. just like that” one of his hands grab her ass, giving it a squeeze and then slapping it. "fuckin' slut... you like it? fucking in my car? takin' it just like a little bitch.... yeah? shitttt..."
he moans now not being able to hold back, and he starts thrusting into her. she gasps for air, her eyes closing shut as she tightens around him. "oh, wanna cum, huh? not yet darlin'...." he grips her hips more, his tip hitting her g-spot with every move.
"chris i-"
she cuts herself off with another moan, not being able to think straight. she digs her nails into the back of his neck, her head falling down on his shoulder and he immediately stops. her eyes snap open, she lifts up her head to look at him, a smirk playing on his lips.
"you better don't look away f'me, ma.... wanna see your pretty face y'know? and keep makin' those sexy little sounds...got it?"
she nods, but it's not enough from him as he speaks up again. "use your words baby, c'mon... you aint that fucked out of your mind yet, hm?"
"i got it, just... please..." she whines, moving her hips, wanting to bounce on him again, but he stops her. she pouts. "chrissss......"
"get to the backseat." he demands, after scanning her face for a while. he wanted to give her all the pleasure she deserves. he wasn't even thinking about himself, he couldn't care less about his release. he just needed to make her feel good, making sure no one else can do what he can.
she pulls away from him, now moving over the center console again, struggling a bit but she gets into the backseat. chris obviously smacks her ass as she does, what makes her squeak.
"chris!"
but he just smirks, pulling off his pants and boxers all the way down and throwing it on the passenger seat, so it wasn't in the way. he gets on the back himself, there was little space, but enough to get into his favorite position. chris puts his hand on her back, forcing her to get on her knees and hands on the seat, as he positions himself behind her. chris loves the way he can get her all desperate and begging, so he teases her now. he moves his tip along her folds, making her whine. then he slowly puts it in, but after a few seconds he pulls back again.
"chris...." she whines, knowing he's playing with her now.
"yeah, baby?"
she bites her lip, her face pressing into the seat and she lifts up her hips more. "stop teasing me, please...."
he grins even more, slapping her pussy with his dick and then he suddenly pulls his cock all the way in, making her gasp and scream out of pleasure. the new angle let him hit all of her sweet spots.
"whatever you want, princess." he starts thrusting into her with a very intense and fast pace, going as deep as he could. the car now filled up with her moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. he grips her hips tight, keeping her in place. he can feel her squeezing around his cock again, and he lets out a growl. "c'mon.... cum all over me...wanna see you while y'do..."
chris moves one of his hands, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, having a good view on her face. her mouth wide open, letting out loud moans, her eyes rolling back.
"oh my god!" she cries out, gripping the edge of the seat like her life depended on it and she releases, the wet, squelching sound coming from her now louder. he groans, kissing her neck and whispering into her ear.
"you feel so good... cummin' like that f'me... such a good girl.."
she moans, squeezing around him again, the overstimulation now making her shiver as he keeps going with the crazy pace, not slowing down at all. he lets go of her hair, her head immediately falling onto the seat and he grips by her hips again, making sure she feels him as deep as he wants her to. he growls, being on the edge himself.
"i'm... close.." he mutters, throwing his head back. "gonna fill you up, yeah?"
she whines nodding desperately, but then he smacks her ass giving her a sign to answer verbally.
"shit! yes, fuck, yes chris, please!" she feels tears filling up her eyes from the pleasure, a few of them coming down her cheeks moment later. chris bites his lip, feeling her tightening around him. he moves one of his hands between her legs, now rubbing her clit, while still thrusting hard into her, but his movements getting sloppier. she cries out, her legs trembling and his dick twitches, finally cumming inside her, his warm sticky release filling her up and dripping out of her. he curses under his breath, digging his fingers into her skin, leaving bruises as he does. she feels him cumming, and the overstimulation from him lazily massaging her clit and still hitting her g-spot, makes her finish again. the pressure in her stomach now becoming too much, unable to hold back, she feels the liquid squirts out of her in waves.
his eyes snap open, looking down at her and he growls. he slows down until he eventually stops, after they both ride out their highs, this time not wanting to overstimulate her. looking at the mess she made, he can't help but feel a bit cocky about it.
"shit, ma.... squirtin' all over me, huh? is it how it is now?" he smirks, a little surprised that he made her do that but he couldn't be more proud. he pulls out of her, letting go of her hips and her body immediately falls onto the seat. she's breathing heavily, not being able to reply yet. "that's my fuckin' girl.."
he runs his fingers along her inner thigh, collecting her and his cum and he leans in a bit, covering over her. he looks at her fucked out expression and the smudged mascara on her cheeks. "look at me."
she opens her eyes, her mind blank, body shaking. he puts his fingers into her mouth, she immediately cleans them up, tasting both his and her release on her tongue, making sure she keeps the eye contact with him while she does that.
"you're so hot." he says now kissing the tears on her cheeks away. "took me so well..."
she smiles, seeing his flushed cheeks and messy hair sticking to his forehead. it was her favorite view.
"y'good, kid? don't go all mute on me now.."
"don't call me that...." she mumbles, trying to get her sarcastic attitude back, but she was absolutely spent right now. "i'm fine."
he just grins, gently patting her cheek before he pulls away. she slowly lifts herself up, trying to fight her trembling legs and she sits up now, facing him. not being able to do anything more yet, her glare moving to her legs and the seat she made mess on. she feels her cheeks growing hotter, now suddenly embarrassed and trying to ignore his stare. this never happened to her with him before and she didn't know what he thought about it.
"sorry about... the seats" she mumbles, grimacing.
he raises his eyebrows, now seeing her embarrassment and he doesn't understand why. it was a little surprising but he felt so proud. he already wanted to make her do it all over again. "you f'real? don't even say sorry, ever again."
she's still not so sure, blushing even more as he wipes her cheeks from the smudged mascara and then runs his hand through her hair, trying to fix it a little bit. he smiles softly. "gonna clean this up later, don't you worry 'bout that, okay?"
chris then reaches into the center console for the tissues, grabbing them and spreading her legs with his hands. she watches him closely seeing how he starts just gently cleaning her up. this simple movement makes her feel the heat rising from her cheeks down to her neck, so she just covers her face with her hands shyly. not really being able to understand why is she so embarrassed this time, he grabs her wrists, forcing her hands to move away from her face.
"y'gotta be kiddin' me. don't hide from me, ma." chris mutters. "not when you made such pretty mess in my car."
with a quiet sigh, she lets him take her hands off of her face. she chews on her bottom lip nervously while he goes back to cleaning her up, touching her slightly as she was made from some kind of glass. it was even cute, how he just made sure she was fine. it's not their first rough sex, but this one was definitely more intense and for some reason felt so... different. she had this strange feeling in her chest, just seeing him focused on wiping her legs and how he didn't seem to care about his covered in her release seats. once he's done, he sits beside her, wrapping his hand around her shoulder and pulling her close. she doesn't like the silence, even if before it was never awkward, this one was bothering her as she couldn't stop feeling unfamiliar emotions.
"i ran out, by the way." she suddenly blurts out, making him laugh. there was no way in hell this girl was real.
"yeah? good to know. gonna give y'some more later."
"im paying this time."
"oh, you've paid enough already." she immediately looks up at him, smacking his shoulder and he chuckles in response, pretending to be in pain. "woaaahh, bein' a little brat again, hm?"
"that's not funny, im giving you money." her tone shows no objection, he smirks and nods, knowing he won't take anything from her anyway. they sit like that for a moment, before he speaks up, knowing he will get another hit after that.
"soooo... round two?"
"christopher, i swear to god."
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a/n: oh my god this seems sooo long 😭 tell me what yall think, i feel like i kinda fucked up with the whole dealer vibe but lmk please! i honestly enjoyed writing that so who knows..
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Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 6 - We've Been Here Before
Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue
[Content Notes: This chapter features some heavy gore and very graphic descriptions of violence. A plot summary is included in the end notes in ao3 for everyone who wants to skip on it. It starts gradual and becomes more intense, so feel free to take a break or skip down at any moment. Additional more specific content notes are there as well (I'd usually put them directly here, but in this case to prefer to leave you the option to get surprised). Please take care.]
The digital clock shows 3:25 am. I should be sleeping. Instead, I am sitting on the couch, bathed in the cold light of my laptop, a cup of coffee on the table in front of me. I tried out one of the VR experiences Ramona gave me. A walk through a forest. But even though it was calming, I still couldn’t sleep. So I might as well get some work done. Typing, scanning data, taking notes. I don’t get anything done. 3:43. The lines blur in front of my eyes.
My eyes wander to the VR helmet on the table. I hesitate. But maybe that will let me find something I have overlooked so far. Help me get closer. So I take the helmet and connect it to my laptop. Put it over my head. Play a memory.
The view the goggles offer me is almost as dark as my living room. My eyes need a moment to adjust to the artificial memory. It’s so unlike the VR I experienced that evening. Everything seemed so real there, I could feel the rain dripping down on my skin and the sun on my arms, hear the wind rustling through trees, could taste autumn air. Here, everything seems muted, like through a veil. I lift the helmet and check the plug, the system, but everything seems to be working well.
I return to the memory. I hear a buzzing, a humming, a hammering like drums in the distance. What memory is this? I forgot to check.
Then I see the metal, the glowing of electricity. Smoke on the floor, around my – no his – feet.
I know where this is!
I try to take off the helmet, but I can’t move. I’m frozen. But I move. Stepping through Parallax’ server room. Hunting. Hunting myself. I need to get out! I need to – I need to –
I need to find you. But that can wait for a while. In the end, I am glad I didn’t kill you when I had the chance. You proved worth our while. Leading me exactly where I needed to go, finding the clues so I didn’t have to. You might as well have pointed a finger at all the people that I needed to kill. One should think someone this skilled in investigative journalism would have seen it coming. Then again, maybe you did. Maybe to you I was – how did the ROM put it? A calculated risk.
Well, it doesn’t matter now. You miscalculated. I can practically smell your fear in the air, hear your hammering heart even beyond the sizzling and buzzing of the electronics. I take a step in the opposite direction. Now that my cloaking emitter is fried, the ROM is no doubt tracking every step I take for you. I hope they do. Maybe I can actually get you to believe you might survive this. It makes the whole deal oh so much sweeter, like just another spoonful of honey in the tea my mother used to make. It’s the closest approximation I can get to that taste.
I’m enjoying every second of this, my mind racing with all the things I want to do to you, even as I tell you my little story. You are probably piecing everything together yourself right now. But that is bound to lack real pathos, all the best details missing. Like how Zinn’s body felt against my arm as I pushed her out the window of her own office. The surprise mixed with pain in Otsuka’s eyes, mirrored in his computer screen, as I drove the knife through his back. The look on your face as I ran over Nonya. The way his guts looked spread out across the street. You just can’t imagine it. Well,you can with that last one, you were there for that. 
But you aren’t sharing your thoughts, which is just too sad. Just as you aren’t telling me what you think of my plan to rip out your entrails and wear them like a scarf. Maybe that was a bit overdramatic, but beggars can’t be choosers and I am positively starving for some violence. I haven’t even told you yet that I intend for you to be alive during that part, but you will find out soon enough.
A door snaps shut just in front of me. Getting nervous? A chuckle escapes my metal throat. Those metal walls aren’t a problem for me. I could tear through them like paper. But where would the fun be in this if I just revealed that I know exactly where you are and can get there in seconds? I’ll let you keep hoping. 
I walk past the wall and continue the story. Then again… I can’t let you feel too safe. Why not show you what I’m capable of? Stimulate your imagination a bit. I walk straight ahead. My sensors catch something to my left. I turn. Walk faster. The metal screeches as it gives way around me.
And there you are. Cowered in a corner. Your hands clutching the zapper so tightly that your knuckles turn white as chalk. You scream.
(I scream)
And it’s music to my ears. Promises of what is to come. Are you even aware of screaming? Do you know what I am about to do to you? The first shot misses. Hands trembling violently. Have you ever shot at anyone before?
I push those thoughts to the side for later, and leap at you. The next shot hits my face. I laugh as I fall to the ground. Your footsteps running away. I heave myself up. The door in front of me closes. You really still think that will stop me?
I touch my hand to my face, where the zapper peeled off even more of my synthetic skin, revealing the metal grin beneath. It barely hurts, just a sting. But oh, does it feel good. It increases my appetite even more. What a wonderful toy you are. Anyone else would have given up by now. But you have guts. I like that in a victim. Can’t wait to rip them out of your body.
Maybe you, too, find this situation exciting, albeit in a different way? You enjoyed your little detective play, and what better climax to that than a hide and seek game with a homicidal android? Maybe that’s what the glint I spotted in your eye means. Maybe, after a life of mediocrity, you enjoy being the center of attention, people dying because of you, and you being the only one left to solve the case. Maybe deep down, you are as fucked up as me. Or maybe that’s just me projecting.
I chuckle to myself. Continue our little game. After that shot, you deserve your reward, so I keep on telling the tale, rattling off the facts about Fairlight and Big Blue and yadda yadda… to be honest, I don’t really care. Oh, it pays the bills alright, and I prefer to keep it that way, but in the end, I don’t really care about the politics. Turing’s crazy idea about turning all robots sentient is nothing but a welcome excuse to wreck shit. Isn’t it nice when things work out like that?
Another door closes next to me. Slowly I’m getting impatient.
“Like how you feel about doing journalism? It’s all that matters to you”, I say. “That’s how I feel about murder.”
A whimper, just around the corner. You made a mistake and you are just now realizing it. 
Turning, I charge at you at the speed of sound. You lift the gun, pull the trigger. No shot rings out.
(Wait)
You are out. 
(That is not what happened!)
In a pathetic last attempt, you fling the weapon at me. It bounces right off my body, tearing some more skin off. I don’t care. I’ll have to make some replacements after I’m done here anyways. 
I grab you by the throat. The ROM charges at me, but I just kick the little shit into the wall. Metal crashes against metal, the little body explodes in a flash of electricity. It’s beautiful. But not as beautiful as your pale face in front of mine.
(This didn’t happen! This is not what happened! I try to get out. I scream, but all that comes over my lips is – )
“Now let the real game begin,” I grin into your face, which is slowly turning blue as I increase the pressure on your throat. I won’t deny, if I still had the necessary parts, this sight would seriously turn me on right now. But I won’t finish you off just yet, no, that would be boring.
I let go and you fall to the floor, gasping for air, hand clasped to your throat. As soon as your lungs are filled with oxygen again, you crawl away, trying to get to your feet. But I am infinitely faster. My boot meets your leg. A wet crunching sound. A scream. How beautiful. Seeing how well you did so far on your little adventure makes it all the sweeter to see you reduced to a small helpless mess on the floor.
I lift my foot off your broken leg. A piece of bone is piercing the skin. I crouch down, grab it and twist until it comes out. Screams turn into whimpers at your lips, which then turns into silence. You’re fainting, as is to be expected. But I’m not letting you fade away just yet. I slap your face, again and again, shake you, until your eyes flutter open again.
“Wakey, wakey,” I grin. “Time for your nightmare.”
Reflexively, you try to jump up. A hiss of pain as you try to move your useless leg. I pin you to the floor and use your own bloodied bone to tear through your shirt and the skin beneath, stabbing it into your stomach. 
“please...” Your voice is barely another whimper.
I grab your head. “What is it, sweetie? You want to beg for your life? Maybe if you ask nicely, I’m gonna let you live? After all, I could still get you out of here, to the next hospital? But we both know, it ain’t gonna happen. As much as I would like to hear you beg, see you grovel in front of me, it just can’t be done. You know too much.”
You don’t answer. You don’t even scream anymore. But I know you can feel everything. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My fingers grip your hair, holding your head in place while I continue to rummage through your body with my other hand. Your ribcage is lying open now, bones looking out of your flesh. Blood and parts of organs splattered on the floor. It looks like an abstract painting, one of those Yannick has hanging in his villa. For a silly moment, I consider taking a picture for him, but quickly discard the idea. That would be evidence. And anyways, the view is already burned into my memory disks, where I can retrieve it whenever I feel like it, whenever I feel bored and need some nice distraction to put a smile on my face.
It is making me smile right now, and that makes me notice the blood on my lips. I can’t taste it, naturally, but my sensors tell me everything I need to know, adrenaline levels and suchlike. Almost like eating candy. Or the closest I can come to that.
I run my fingers through your hair, almost tenderly. Unwanted memories of my wife resurface, of stroking her hair like that. Instead of pushing them away like I usually do, I dwell on them for a little. Getting excited at the dying stranger’s hair in my hands is as close as I can get to that past sensation. Your hair turns into her hair, your face into hers. Closest approximation and all that.
My touch doesn’t stay gentle for long, though. I yank you up by the hair, pulling you off the ground. Your entrails are spilling on the floor. I let go and you stay standing up for just a second before I place a punch into the gaping hole in your stomach. You sprawl to the floor. Barely alive now. Time to decide how best to end this.
I grab your guts from the floor, and, climbing on top of you, wrap them around myself and then around your neck and start pulling. It’s almost like a hug, or the closest approximation or whatever - enough of this sentimental bullshit. I tighten the grip. Organic fiber tears, your eyes flutter, you don’t even struggle anymore.
(I watch myself die, unable to do anything. It’s not the first time.)
I tear another bone from your ribcage, stab at you with it, rip your hair out, squash your eyes until they explode between my fingers, I yank your arm out of its socket. I tear out your heart and take a bite I can neither taste nor swallow.
That’s how they find me. 
I knew I was forgetting something. Your friend from the police escaped, calling backup. Even so, I could have gotten away, if I hadn’t gotten so lost in our fun.
But seeing the cop lady walk in just as I am led out in handcuffs, seeing her face as she looks at your body (or what remains of it), hearing her uncontrolled sobs, her gibberish as she falls to the floor, it makes it all worth it. Who knows... Maybe now Wilson Dekker will finally be allowed to die. And what a hell of a last day it has been.
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Hey :) Hope you're doing well, I read some of your Aemond fanfics, and they were great. I was hoping you could write a Jacaerys x Alicent daughter fanfic. Something about an arranged marriage, you can take it anyway you wish, but could there be some angst in there. with the prompts 1. ‘’My blood is not noble enough for a prince.’’ and 14. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’
Thank you :)
Request: Alicent’s second daughter to marry Jacaerys to unite the houses
Thank you for the compliment on my Aemond fics <3 More will be coming soon. Also, I was not able to use the first prompt as it doesn’t work with the characters. Alicent’s daughter’s blood is more noble than Jacaerys since her father is king and his mother is princess. I hope you still enjoy what I wrote for you <3
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Twenty years ago, when Viserys made Rhaenyra his heir, the knights and houses who swore allegiance to him had no choice but to accept her as their future queen. She was the king’s only child. But now that the king had a male heir — and a spare —, there were possibilities that people would oppose her claim to the throne and demand Aegon to wear the crown. 
To prevent the situation from happening, the king and queen, along with Rhaenyra, made an accord that Rhaenyra would ascend the throne following the king’s death, but to unite the houses, the princess’s firstborn son — and heir — would marry Alicent’s second daughter and, one day, inherit the throne together. 
Like any political marriage, you nor Jacaerys had a choice or say. At least he wasn’t an older lord you had met once or twice. You knew Jacaerys — a little. He was kind, loyal and protective. He was a good man. 
Prior to that arrangement, your grandsire, Otto, had been talking to you about having a tourney to meet suitors, but your mother had been quick to oppose to the idea. She didn't want you to be the victim of his scheming like she had been at your age. 
You were drawing under the weirwood tree when Jacaerys stepped into the yard, having just arrived in King’s Landing. Its red leaves matched the color of your dress, making him smile. He liked you in red. 
‘’I was told by the servants that my wife was out here.’’ 
Immersed in your drawing, you didn’t hear the prince approaching. You only glanced up when you heard your new title, the sound of his voice almost making you drop your charcoal onto your dress. Your mother would have been furious.
A soft laugh left your lips. Moons have passed since the wedding, yet being called a wife still felt strange. ‘’I’m not used to this. Being a wife.’’
‘’Me either,’’ Jacaerys admitted. ‘’What are you drawing, Princess?’’ 
You reflected his smile as he approached. ‘’Just some birds.’’
Jacaerys walked up to the tree and sat beside you. He had a bit of dirt on his jacket from sparring with Ser Criston in the training yard. 
‘’How was your training session with Ser Criston?’’ you asked, raising a hand to run through the front of his hair, fixing an unruly curl that was on the wrong side. 
The older he got, the more he looked like Ser Harwin Strong. He had the same dark brown curls. But you would never dare saying that out loud. Although you meant it as a compliment, the mere insinuation of his illegitimacy was a vile insult to the crown — to the princess. 
‘’I disarmed him twice…and I ate some dirt.’’ The brunet grimaced, the earthy taste still lingering on his tongue. ‘’It was a blessing that no one was watching.’’  
‘’Mayhaps you need an opponent that is closest to your age?’’ you suggested, not finding it fair that he was sparring against a grown man who had years of practice as a knight. ‘’You could ask Aemond to train with you? He is training for the upcoming tourney, but I’m sure he would a accept to help you.’’
Jacaerys hummed, then leaned back against the weirwood tree, taking a moment of rest. He watched with quiet admiration as you continued your drawing, fascinated by the way you could, with a few strokes of charcoal, illustrate pretty much anything. Birds, flowers, dragons, or portraits of your family. 
Much like your twin brother, you favored solitude over socializing. When the betrothal was announced to you, you assumed that this tranquility would be disrupted, but it turned out that Jacaerys enjoyed it too. Partially. While he often thrived on the excitement and duty that came with his heir title, he found it relieving that he could find peace and comfort in your silent company. 
‘’I’m going back to Dragonstone in the morrow,’’ the prince announced, breaking the serenity of the quiet.
‘’How long for?’’
Jacaerys shifted, fearing the conversation that was to come. ‘’No. I’m going back to Dragonstone…permanently.’’
You stopped drawing, a sudden knot forming in your stomach. ‘’And what of me?’’ 
‘’You can join. Or not. That is up to you.’’ 
‘’And what of us? What of our marriage, Jace?’’ you asked, turning your head toward him. 
When you got wed in the tradition of Old Valyria, you pledged to one another that you were one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Jacaerys returning to Dragonstone would break your duties to your House. 
‘’Dragonstone is easy to travel from and back on dragonback.’’ You began picking at your fingers, and Jacaerys noticed, taking your hand in his to stop you. ‘’I tried, but King’s Landing is not my home. I don’t belong here.’’
‘’I can’t leave my family.’’ 
‘’I left mine for you.’’ 
You pulled your hand from his hold and narrowed your eyes at him. Jacaerys moving to King’s Landing after the wedding ceremony was your father’s idea, not yours. How dared he blame you for a decision you didn't make?
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elsafromcabinsix · 3 months
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that kind of love never dies | chapter one
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summary: the one where barbara thinks about an act of rebellion.
pairing: jake x mc
word count: 1.3K
warnings: tkolnd takes place after the events of episode 10; cover images found on pinterest; english is not my first language.
author’s note: even though she lives in the usa, my main character, barbara, is brazilian. i added terms and expressions that we use in our country, as well as cultural elements, to this fanfic. the words that appear in portuguese are highlighted and you can contact me if you have any questions.
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Barbara was sprawled out on the dorm carpet, reading a Lucy Maud Montgomery novel she found by chance in the university library, when her cell phone began vibrating on the nightstand. Without wasting time, she closed the book and got up, waiting to hear from her roommate, Meera, but, when Barbara swiped her finger across the lock screen, she found some text messages from an unknown number.
i would like to invite you again to eat something at that chinese restaurant
if you want to meet me, just show up there tomorrow
i'll be waiting for you :)
Her head started to throb just at the possibility of it being who she was imagining, but she quickly pushed the thought away.
Jake wouldn't put himself in danger like that.
After everything that happened in Grimrock, Duskwood's chief of police, Alan Bloomgate, personally went after her to conduct the interrogation, and, more than once, made it very clear that it was best for her to stay away from her new friends for a while. He didn't go into detail when he told her about what happened at the Ironsplinter Mine, but he confirmed that Richy was alive — despite having some serious injuries — and that Jake had fled from the FBI agents during the confusion caused by the explosion.
All the messages she sent and received during that time became evidence. Barbara had what it took to close Hannah Donfort's case literally in the palm of her hand, including the kidnapper's confession.
Consequently, she also had the means that could lead the people who were after Jake straight to him.
She was interrogated by the FBI countless times for months, until Alan decided to intervene and convinced her to hand over her cell phone to them in exchange for her old life. Since then, Barbara has not been part of the joint investigation. Or at least that's what they say — she's too smart to really believe that.
For a few seconds, she considered the chance that it was someone trying to play a trick on her. The video Lilly Donfort posted accusing her of kidnapping had gone viral across the Columbia University campus. Even her grandmother, who lived in the interior of Brazil, found out about her involvement with a hacker wanted by the North American government. However, no one else knew about the brief conversation they had about the chinese restaurant.
Except, of course, the FBI.
Without a doubt, it was a trap. Barbara felt her face turn red. It seemed that solving an old international murder case, giving up her privacy, being forced to abandon her group of friends and possibly cheating on the guy she was in love with was not enough. She also needed to act as bait when it was convenient.
Barbara huffed, irritated. Little did they know that Jake had no contact. Their partnership in crime had ended almost a year ago.
Still, there was no reason to decline the invitation. She could very well take advantage of the opportunity to tell some truths to those nosy agents, and as a bonus she would have an excuse to go to Germany without Alan being able to question her too openly.
Her lips lifted into a smile as the plan emerged in her mind.
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After going through customs at Zurich Airport, picking up luggage and going to an exchange office to exchange some notes, only an hour and fifteen minutes by car separated Barbara from Duskwood. Luckily, there were several yellow taxis forming a line next to the sidewalk, because it would be a nightmare to have to deal with someone trying to compete for the same vehicle as her.
She walked out of the lounge, pulling her hot pink rolling suitcase, and turned on her smartphone to announce on the family's group chat that she had arrived safely. But before she could check her contact list to see if her parents were online, she collided with a young man's broad chest.
She jumped away from him, apologizing — or at least trying to — in german. He laughed softly, grabbing her arm to stop her from tripping over herself, and for a moment, Barbara forgot to even breathe. The young man seemed to be a few years older than her, he was tall, had dark hair and prominent round eyes that resembled the curve of a teardrop, he was wearing a white sweatshirt with a hood and black jeans.
“I'm sorry, I didn't see you.” He spoke in english, with a slight accent.
“No problem, it was my fault.” Barbara quickly straightened up, realizing that she had somehow stared too long.
The young man analyzed her from head to toe with amusement before bending down and picking up the cell phone that had flown out of her hand during the impact.
“I believe this is yours.” He joked, handing the device to her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded curtly and turned, making his way through the travelers entering and exiting the airport, as silent as a wraith.
She was inexplicably disappointed to see him leave, however she had more important things to deal with. Then, she handed the luggage to the driver to put in the trunk and got into the taxi, giving the address of the Gates Hotel, on the outskirts of Duskwood.
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Barbara ran across the room, feeling the cold floor beneath her feet. She was considerably late, but as far as she remembered, she had never arrived on time to participate in the interrogations, so whoever was waiting for her at the restaurant wouldn't mind too much. She put on a black strapless dress, put on her highest heels and curled her wet hair with her fingers, leaving a small trail of water on the floor.
Through an opening in the peach curtains, she noticed that the rain had picked up outside, beating violently against the window pane. She cursed under her breath, hoping someone at the front desk could lend her an umbrella, and before Barbara could procrastinate her meeting with the FBI Special Agent any further, she took one last look at the floor mirror near the entrance hall, realizing that she was dressed for revenge.
“Someone would definitely approve of that.”
Smiling to herself, she went down a small flight of stairs to the ground floor, where the girl at the reception was reading a magazine with Nicholas Galitzine's photo on the cover.
“How can I help you?” She asked in english, without taking her eyes off the celebrity gossip.
“Hey, how you doin'? Could you lend me an umbrella, please?”
“Of course.” She said, reaching for the object under the counter and handing it to her. “A fee of two euros will be added to your room bill.” Barbara sighed, surprised, as she mentally converted the currency. “What?” The receptionist looked up, frowning. “Did you think it would be free?”
“No, obviously not.” Barbara lied, smiling politely.
“Return it by midnight or I will have to charge the full value of the item.” The girl announced, turning her attention to the magazine. Then she added: “Nice dress.”
“Okay, I'll pay when I check out.” She assured, walking towards the glass doors while opening her rented umbrella. “And thank you.”
“Have fun, Cinderella!”
Barbara regretted walking out the door as soon as she set foot on the sidewalk. Not just because of the rain, but because of the wind blowing your hair back. In any case, she had come too far to give up, and despite the storm, she could see the lights of the chinese restaurant through the blue haze a few meters ahead, on the other side of the street.
Before she could take another step, someone grabbed her arm and turned her around.
“What?” She blinked in amazement at the handsome young man she had met at the airport.
“Come with me.” He said, pulling her away from the hotel entrance.
“You are crazy? I do not know you!” Barbara shouted, dropping the umbrella near her feet. The rain completely drenched them both in moments. “Me solta!”
“Barbara, please.” He asked, breathing short.
The sadness in his voice stopped her struggling.
“How do you…?” She gasped, eyes wide. “Jake?”
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taglist: @daniiiworlds; @labemquarts; @deinily
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tales-from-elysivm · 6 months
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★。/can i be a hero too?\。★
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ask: "I have a really cute request, Bakugou from Bnha with a little sibling reader. They weren't able to get a babysitter and Bakugou bring his little sibling to school, the reader is the complete opposite of him though"
pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader
fandom: boku no hero academia
word count: 1,196
tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo but that comes with the territory
notes: thanks for being one of my first requests anon! it was really fun to get back into writing fanfic, and bnha is one of my favourite animes so writing this was a lot of fun - i just hope i did it well and you enjoy reading! i used primarily they/them pronouns for the sibling just in case ;)
! this is a repost from my other blog !
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‘Can’t we just hire that old fucking neighbour?!’
Mitsuki doesn’t even bother smacking her son this time, too busy fixing up the bento box she has already begun making in the kitchen. Rice and egg and soft pretzels which [Y/N] always insisted on. The same thing everyday, which Katsuki found increasingly frustrating. Their name is painted on the lid, which sits on the sink.
It’s one of the only memories that Mitsuki repeatedly brags about to her mom friends. How her son eagerly decorated a bento box for his anticipated sibling, and how he ended up despising them when born. That’s what it looked like anyway
‘She’s too old for [Y/N], you know this.’ Mitsuki snaps, snapping on the box lid. ‘They’ll get bored if they have to sit in her living room all day.’
‘The place smells like shit too.’
‘Katsuki!’ This time she does hit him.
‘It’s just one day. All you have to do is keep them busy for a while, and they’ll find a way to occupy themselves for the rest of your classes.’
Mitsuki packs the bento box and several colouring books and pencil sets into a tiny school bag that’s been sitting open on the dining room table. Just as [Y/N] comes skipping into the room in an All-Might tracksuit that they demanded they ‘had to have’ when they saw it at a convention a while ago.
‘Aren’t you so pretty, hun?’ Mitsuki coos at - arguably - her favourite child. ‘Guess what?’
[Y/N] mumbles something around a mouthful of a soft pretzel. Where’d they even get it from?
‘You’re going to school with Katsuki today!’
Oh shit their face got a fuck ton more bright when he looked down again. Even the mention of U.A on any given day made them bounce around while babbling about how they’d love to be a hero when they got their quirk. 
‘Really?’ [Y/N] attaches themself to his leg, bouncing up and down to make sure they’ve heard Mitsuki just right.
She glares at him when [Y/N] looks away.
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever.’
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No one’s expecting anything entirely different when Aizawa starts class that morning. The only thing that seems slightly out of the ordinary is Bakugo being late. Kirishima is counting through the minutes and soon enough a whole half hour passes without him being there to yell at anyone. Even Midoriya is having a particularly stress-free morning!
However, no one was expecting for him to parade into the class an hour later with a six year old sitting on his shoulders, because (as he said) “they didn’t want to use their damn legs”. 
‘Bakubro,’ Kaminari is already laughing his ass off in the back corner. ‘Ya got a hitchhiker there.’
Bakugo is almost fuming by the time he drops off the child at his desk, standing by Aizawa to demand - or ask - that he ignore the situation. Number one, [Y/N] got a day off school because of a downtown villain attack, and Mitsuki couldn’t find a babysitter after their current one caught the flu. With no other options and both of his parents going to work early that morning, he had no choice but to drag them along as long as, and quote:
‘You don’t make a damn noise, and no questions, and no playing around, you sit down and shut up.’
Did [Y/N] listen? Nope. Not really. 
Halfway through the first lesson of the morning, and little [Y/N] is sitting in the lap of half of his classmates, messing with Hagakure’s invisible hair in utter curiosity, and playing heroes with Midoriya and Kirishima. At which point they all stand on their desks and put their fists in the air yelling ‘Detroit Smash’!
Katsuki just stands and watches as [Y/N] jumps from person to person, playing with quirks and planning out their future hero name. Kaminari is the most excited to stand on his desk and create a fake hero mask out of tape and paper, and theorise all the new quirks that could be made for [Y/N].
‘[Y/N] sit down for God’s sake!’ he growls at them, and they do so as they nestle themselves into a corner of his desk. Katsuki squeezes on with her. ‘No more talking to these... damn extras during class, ok?’
Mitsuki would skin him alive if he even thought about swearing properly in the same room as her “precious angel”.
‘But why?’
‘’Cause it’s annoying.’
[Y/N]’s eyes widen a bit, but then they beam at him and nod again, picking up a pencil as if they actually are a student and begin doodling a picture while others begin homework. Aizawa doesn’t collapse into his sleeping bag this time, instead keeping an eye to ensure he isn’t sued later for the death of an unrelated child. Midoriya and Iida are the first ones to finish of course, followed by Katsuki, who has to steal his pages when [Y/N] isn’t looking, handing it across the teacher’s desk with glitter flowers and stars in the margins. 
The bell goes to signal the beginning of their hero training, and [Y/N] clutches Katsuki’s hand as they shyly approach the scary-looking racoon man to hand him a (“professionally signed”) artwork by [Y/N] Bakugo. A misshapen house with a cat and a very dead looking racoon. 
(Aizawa does frame it later, like a dad of course.)
(Katsuki does call his teacher roadkill exactly three times after that.)
For hero training All-Might stands with his hands on his hips with [Y/N] at his side to help conduct the lesson. Together they order drills and [Y/N] gets to practise their hero voice and pose. The class ends with the whole group playing games and kicking a soccer ball around so they can pretend that [Y/N] has to save it from various situations. Which they do so successfully - “a top-rate hero” in All-Might’s words.
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For Katsuki, he’s glad to get home and die in bed when 8:30 rolls around. It’s been non-stop questions and poking and prodding even though he told [Y/N] not to, but they wouldn’t listen! And when they got home Mitsuki hounded him to make sure they hadn’t done anything stupid while at school. 
But 9 rolls around and [Y/N]’s socks cast shadows over the door frame, and the door handle jiggles. Katsuki waits and doesn’t move to help them with it. They come padding in with a stuffed Midnight plush, and crawls onto his pillow. 
‘Kat, can I come to school with you everyday?’
And god-fucking-dammit, they look so damn excited to go to school with their big brother that all he can do is turn off his lamp and pull the covers up and pat their hair. He can feel his chest swell with pride, because his sibling wants to come and watch him become a hero.
He can’t help but wonder what kind of hero [Y/N] will be. What would their quirk be? 
Oh, Mitsuki would kick his ass if he even thought about surpassing his own sibling.
He smirks at the thought. His sibling would be the best hero at U.A, not like those fucking extras. 
‘Yeah, whatever.’
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i really enjoyed writing this!
let me know if you want to request anything, and i'll try my best to get to them as quickly as possible.
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loumandivorce · 28 days
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@vampirejournalist started iwtv fanfic friday and i'm here to participate totally on time and not an hour before saturday begins with some LOUMAND FIC RECS as demanded by my url. here are some bangers.
Bloodletting, explicit, series
Even though we've had our ups and downs.
[“I love you,” Armand whispers. Louis swallows against a painful throat. “Sure, honey,” he says. “I love you.” Like saying it again will make it stick. “I know,” Louis says. Armand whispers it a third time, and Louis closes his eyes so he won’t have to look at him when he says, “I’m not gonna say it back, honey.”]
this is a series and it's number one on the rec list because it's truly The loumand series of all time there is nothing that gets them better. chances are you've read one or two of these but the entire series is absolutely insane. hot and disgusting and vulnerable and heartbreaking and makes me feel crazy.
A Chill That Follows, explicit
He leans down to kiss Armand, cradling the back of his neck in his hand. He smiles when he feels rather than hears Armand sigh against his lips, pleased—as if he’s receiving a gift. It’s almost absurd, to think that he was threatening to kill him less than half an hour ago. “What’s absurd is that threatening to kill you was what finally got you to put out for him,” a dismissive, familiar voice says behind him. Shit.
armand is fighting for his LIFE. delicious read
Triptych (Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion), teen
The five of them— Louis, Armand, the figures at the crucifixion— sit together, far too much alike, deformed creatures with teeth that shine in the dark. They all come apart in pieces.
[Why they bought the Bacon triptych, and why Armand sold it.]
really interesting character study on the trifecta in relation to armand
The Cord That Goes Winding Out The Door, teen
There had never been a time proper in his life where Louis wasn’t surrounded by others, but this was the first time that he had felt permanently connected; eternally un-alone. Another being tied to him, a constant brushing of shoulders against his being.
birthing imagery as horror 😊
1,001 nights, mature
The last time Louis saw the ocean up close was—1998. An island off of Miami. Flat, breezeless night.
Or: shards of the past seventy-seven years.
loumand failmarriage through the decades.
dirges, explicit
They fell into a holding pattern for a while in the seventies, in the years before Daniel. Perhaps it was not so long as years, but time dilated, as it was, in Armand’s experience, sometimes wont to do, and it stretched into a small eternity, syrupy and neon-lit, of Louis throwing himself onto swords, chasing and chasing, Armand trailing after with the end of the leash.
practically a loumand heritage fic. written pre s2 but managed to predict so many key parts of their dynamic.
Alexandria, explicit
Louis, glitteringly modern as Armand has always found him, is an excellent tourist, throwing himself into the wholehearted pursuit of the city with an almost manic zeal. Thunderingly alive in Paris, thunderingly alive in Alexandria, thunderingly alive for the rest of their lives, wherever they might be.
loumand in egypt! almost feels like a slice of life in a way, reading this makes you feel like this is really how they spent those 77 years together. the perfect undercurrent of tragedy and bitterness and, of course, love.
acts of collision, explicit
Armand misses Louis like a man about town misses his favourite whore. He misses what only one person is horrid enough to do to him. And Daniel wouldn't even suggest it, if he couldn't feel how Louis misses Armand in the exact same way.
this one is sort of cheating because its a loumandiel fic from daniel's pov, but it's so so good. set in a nebulous post s2 future where daniel invites louis to do a bdsm scene with armand because they both miss each other but armand quite literally Doesn't Talk to louis the whole time. rlly fascinating
the crowning evil, explicit
Armand stood, back to the window, unblinking, tension carrying itself in his frame. Liar, Louis thought. All he could think. Centuries old monster playing at being a boy. A boy pretending to be a man. Unworthy in both roles. Something akin to revulsion clawed up his throat, but it couldn't be, not really, he was too burnt to a husk to muster it in its completeness.
“Come here,” Louis said, his voice dropping.
Armand stepped forward, eyes going wide and hopeful and hungry in half a second. “Yes, Maître.”
“You’re still on that?” Louis asked.
this is just self promo im ngl 💗 but i'm confident enough that my own fic is good so. loumand having despair sex before going to meet lestat in paris in 2.08
this ended up being pretty long but loumand writers when they get it right write such beautiful fics 💗 thank you wonderful iwtc writers. happy fanfic friday/saturday!
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robinsno1lesbian · 3 months
Note
I want Robin to teach the reader how to use a strap in the WORST way. Experienced Robin teaching us how to put it on and take her apart? Please 🥵
𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞! ᯓᡣ𐭩
- r.b. x reader
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summary: robin teaches reader how to use the strap on her! (1.4k)
warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), strap-on sex (robin receiving), finger sucking, use of pet names (baby, good girl), established relationship, not a warning but i literally finished this at the beach and did not beta read so….anyway, let me know if i missed anything!
a/n: i started writing this forever ago (like…last year??) & figured i’d make it a part of my summer fanfics! find my summer fic masterlist here & feel free to send your own requests! <3
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experienced robin who helps you put on the strap for the first time. you’re all shy about it, unsure of where to put your hands, but she’s being so gentle and patient with you. she kisses the buckles of the harness, whispering words of encouragement to you as she secures them in place.
“such a pretty girl”, “just look at you”, “so beautiful and all for me hm?”. she taps her index finger against the different parts, explaining how they are supposed to sit against your body, how they will fit inside hers.
you wish to hide your face in her soft, soothing pillows against your back. but robin shedding her clothes right in front of you is too good of a sight to see.
“still okay?” she breathes once she’s straddling your thighs, open mouth ghosting along your jaw slowly. the plastic cock is resting against her belly like this, flush against her freckled skin.
you nod, “yes”, and even with both eyes closed you can sense the soft smile that curls up her lips when she hears your approval.
“good” robin hums as she places a featherlight kiss to the side of your neck. the gesture draws another shuddered breath from you. “open up, baby”
you blink against the warm light that floods your vision when you open your eyes. she’s holding out her fingers, head tilted slightly. you know what she wants immediately.
obediently, you part your lips for the girl on top of you. robin runs her hands through your hair, soothing you with a proud hum when you take her fingers into your mouth and feel them press down on your tongue.
“that’s it” she coos. they feel good against you, a firm pressure at the pack of your throat. robin makes sure they’re nice and wet before she withdraws them. she brings the saliva stained digits down, all the way down, until she wraps them around the silicone that’s strapped to your body. the side of her nose brushes yours playfully whilst she pumps her fist along the length of the toy, using your spit to lube it up. she presses a quick kiss to your lips, smiling against your mouth sweetly, before she removes her hand from around the silicone shaft and sits up on her knees.
“i’m gonna-“ she reaches around the strap and lines it up with her entrance. you haven’t felt it yourself yet, but given her confidence, you’re almost certain she’s soaked. “…sit now. okay?”
“mhm” you nearly whimper through tight lips.
“good girl” she says, lowering her body onto the toy. the words morph into a satisfying sigh as they fall from her lips. robin’s lashes flutter and her jaw goes slack when she takes the toy in as far as it’ll go, until her body sits flush against yours. she remains silent for a second, adjusting to the new sensation, before she looks down at you. she smiles breathlessly, then, and cups your face in her hands.
she wiggles her hips from left to right slightly, trying to find the perfect angle on top of you. all you can do is watch, stunned by the mere sight above you. the only thing she’s wearing is the necklace you gave her as an anniversary gift: a delicate silver chain with a charm dangling from it. the first letter of your name, right between robin’s breasts. claiming her as yours.
her arm, dusted in freckles like the rest of her, comes down to rest her palm against the headboard behind you. you’re still unsure where to put your own hands; too many places to choose from, a seemingly endless amount of skin exposed to you just like that.
“you’re so pretty” you finally manage and run your hands up her side. robin shivers. she runs her free hand over your rosy cheeks, letting you adjust to the new situation as well.
“mhm” robin murmurs. “okay? can i move baby?”
“more than okay” you manage, your voice cracking weakly.
“here” she offers and guides your hands to her hips. “hold me like this and-“
she lifts herself up, just to drop her weight back down onto the strap on, your thighs nestling against hers.
“oh” robin moans. her head falls back and her eyes close when the toy strokes against her g-spot. your hands instinctively tighten against her hips. you want to guide her, watch her as she bounces on it, chasing her own pleasure.
she arches her back and raises her hips, thrusting down on you again and again until she’s built a steady rhythm.
“yes, yes, yes” she chants every time her skin slaps against yours. “oh my god, y/n, baby, that’s so good”
with your confidence (as well as your arousal) growing from the praise, you hold onto her hips and shyly lift your own body to fuck the toy into her deeper. robin moans, loud, when to find the exact angle that seems to do it for her. her pussy throbs and you’re almost certain you can feel her arousal against yourself each time her weight drops.
in the heat of the moment the two of you are creating, robin’s mouth still manages to find yours. it’s all tongue and teeth, her hand grabbing your cheeks and pulling your lips apart with her thumb.
“i love you” she moans and you can only watch in fascination when her pretty, blue eyes roll back in pleasure. her bangs are stuck to the sweat on her forehead and her chest rises and falls rapidly. she’s mesmerizing like this. she always is, really, but this might be your new favorite sight to see. “i love you, i love you, i love you”
you’re panting too, even though robin’s the one doing most of the work; riding you so prettily. you can hear it each time the strap sinks back inside her, her cunt squelching with her arousal.
“i love you too”
“fuck” robin moans, her voice even raspier than usual. “fuck baby this is so good”
your own cunt is pulsing, aching to be touched, to get any sort of relief after watching your girlfriend lose it like that for the very first time. you’re pretty sure it’ll leave a stain on her sheets; you can already feel it leaking from your body.
“you’re doing s’good” robin praises, grunting in both exhaustion and pleasure above you. “making me feel so good baby- shit-“
you can sense her pace faltering: her hips stutter and her thighs tremble, a sign that she’s getting closer to her release. you know this won’t do it yet though.
carefully, you put your fingers between her thighs. a gasp falls from your lips when you feel her wetness smeared all over her inner thighs.
“holy shit”
“touch me baby” she urges. “so close. be a good girl and touch me”
you swallow and rub your index and middle finger in slow circles around her stiff clit, matching the pace of her body against your own. robin whines and lets her forehead fall against yours. she’s no longer bouncing on your strap, just rutting back against it in short, desperate thrusts while chasing her release.
“gonna cum baby” she moans. “you’re gonna make me cum. you’re gonna make me cum!”
you nod, it’s all you can do in your trance like state, and press your fingers against her clit so she can grind her hips against them however she wants.
“baby baby baby” she babbles breathlessly, her head tilting backwards. “fuck- fuck s’good- i’m gonna- i’m cumming”
robin comes with a shout of your name, her eyes pinched shut tightly. you feel her release gush around the strap and over your thighs but you can’t be bothered to turn your gaze away. she’s beautiful when she cums, yet you’ve never seen her quite like this: with her hair clinging to her face -contorted in pleasure- and her thighs trembling around yours when her hips still eventually. robin keeps grinding against the cock, dragging her clit against your fingers while the pleasure washes over her.
finally, she drops her weight against you, and you wrap your arms around her warm, shaking body.
“fuck y/n” she mumbles against the crook of your neck. you can feel the pebbled skin of her nipples press against your body.
“earth to robin” you chuckle, huffing out a gentle chuckle.
“i’m good” the other girl assures you, her lips pressing the softest of kisses against your skin right where her mouth rests against your shoulder. “so good baby. was that okay?”
“okay?” you repeat, almost in disbelief. “baby that was-“ you stammer, trying to find the words to articulate just how ‘okay’ it was.
robin chuckles and you feel the vibrations of the noise against your chest.
“come here” she murmurs, lifting herself up to meet your lips halfway.
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hotchs-big-hands · 1 year
Text
What did you call me?
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|4.9k words
Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader
NSFW Minors dni please
Warning(s): some angst, yearning, details about graphic crime scenes, strip clubs/sex clubs.
When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
Hey everyone, welcome to my first fanfic! I used to write and post stuff back in 2018ish but it was a different fandom. I've not written and posted anything tho since then so I'm a bit nervous! But idk I just got back into cm recently and I saw Hotch and my brain was like oh yeah 👁️👁️ (I used to be a Spencer girlie) and I've mostly written stuff for myself but I decided imma start doing stuff on here too! I hope you enjoy and lemme know if you wanna be tagged in future writings 🥰 side note, I'm a fat gal so I will probably centre most of my stuff around plus size readers cuz there's not enough of it for plus size Hotch girlies 😔 but technically anyone can read and enjoy it! This was getting extremely long so I'm splitting it into three parts so here's the first one! Anyway, enjoy 💅
🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑
The feeling of something blunt lightly bounced against your forehead, making you blink a few times and rub the area with your hand.
"Hey... Who did that?" You grumbled, eyes darting from one face of your coworkers to the next. Three of them all pointed towards the culprit and as your eyes drifted back to him you were met with a cheeky grin on the charming, dark-skinned man's face.
"You were spaced out, sugar." Derek Morgan said. "Got a lot on your mind?"
"Got a lot of him on her mind, more like." A voice cut in smugly, flustering you in an instant, your heart beginning to race. Your eyes flicked to Prentiss, the pristine raven haired woman was smirking at you, her eyes glinting. You squeaked and shifted in your office chair nervously.
"No, Em! Just... couldn't sleep last night."
The weak explanation didn't help, it only widened the smirk on Prentiss' face as she leaned forward.
"Oh? Do tell us more."
"There's nothing to say!" You abruptly turned to the casefile that lay open on your slightly messy desk and tried to ignore the movement at the corner of your eye; Emily was shuffling her chair over to you, no doubt still with that annoying smirk on her face.
"Oh it sure sounds like there is though."
Before you had the chance to defend yourself an all too familiar voice demanded everyone's attention and subsequently caused a shiver to trickle down your spine. Your hands gripped onto your chair.
"My team; in the conference room now. We have a case." Your unit chief spoke. All heads turned to the direction of a slightly elevated walkway where a sharply dressed man stood for a mere moment, locking eyes with yours, before he began walking briskly towards the mentioned conference room.
Fuck. Hotch was wearing your favourite suit and tie today and a few stray wisps of his short, dark hair stubbornly lay over his forehead, no matter how often he must have tried to push them up off his face. Everyday was harder than the previous working with that man. The moment you'd attended your interview months ago, sitting in front of the brooding man, you knew you were fucked. Yes, you had been eager to join the famed BAU unit and were grateful for the opportunity that arose but you'd be lying if another reason you eagerly answered all the questions prompted to you in that interview wasn't because you were instantly attracted to Aaron Hotchner. However, that was almost a year ago now and you were struggling with your growing attraction to the man the more you were around him. Your coworkers and friends certainly were no help, given they'd soon caught onto your crush.
A hand waved in front of your face and you blinked.
"Time to go, lovergirl." Prentiss teased and you sighed, quickly joining the others as they made their way to the case briefing. You needed to focus.
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Landing in Chicago a few hours later, the team were thrust into a gnarly investigation involving couples being murdered in their hotel rooms mid-coital. The crime scene photos were hard to look at, to say the least. Setting up a base of operations in the police department didn't take too long and currently you were in the midst of interviewing family members of the deceased along with Hotch at his insistence. It wasn't often that you took part in these interviews, even less often did Hotch ever team you up with him. Quite frankly, it made you feel a little nervous, but there was no way you'd question his decision. And certainly, you did not miss the subtle smug look Emily gave you as you trailed after the man you thought about way too much.
Sitting beside him in the SUV, just the two of you alone made your head feel a little bit floaty as you tried your best to remain as stoic as possible, reminding yourself of the details of the case so far and of the little bits of information from the families you'd spoken to. Even with the effort there was no preventing the permeating scent of his cologne and a hint of his own natural musk from scrambling your brain. He smelled good, too good, and the way his hands gripped the steering wheel from the quick glances you dared peek developed a heat to coil within the depths of your lower abdomen.
"Are you alright?" His voice brought you out of your thoughts. You felt flushed.
"H-huh?" You felt dumbstruck, all because of him. He exhaled through his nose sharply, clearly dissatisfied with your response.
"You're distracted."
Oh. Of course he could pick up on it. You shifted in your seat, subtly rubbing your plump thighs together.
"I'm okay, I guess I've not had enough to drink today though. I'll get some water when we head back to the station." Not a lie, technically. You'd forgotten your bottle of water you normally had ready to fill up to take on cases. Hotch hummed, the sound deep and making you clench between your thighs.
"I did notice you didn't have your water like you usually do. I should have said something." He said. Wait, he noticed? You didn't think he picked up on things about you, he didn't often appear to pay attention to you besides on a strictly professional level. But as you turned your head to him in surprise his brows were furrowed in frustration, as though annoyed with himself for not saying anything.
"Oh no, it's fine. I've been a bit of a scatterbrain as of late." You admitted sheepishly, a little smile on your lips. Hotch glanced at you, eyes flicking down to your lips, then back to your eyes, making your breath hitch.
"Anything I can do to help?"
You bit your lip, your mind flooded with a whole array of thoughts that you knew you shouldn't be having about your boss. He didn't know he was the reason you were so distracted, desperate to feel his lips on yours, on your body and his hands on your skin, his fingers inside you. Fuck. You needed to get it together, for goodness' sake. You quickly glanced back towards the road.
"Ah, no. I'm okay, sir. I'll sort myself out." You murmured, missing the way his knuckles whitened under the pressure of his grip on the wheel.
"Don't hesitate to come to me if you need anything."
You tried not to think of what you wanted him to do to you, instead humming in response.
"Thank you, sir."
You needed to get out of this damn car as soon as possible.
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Immediately upon returning to the station you rushed off to find a vending machine so you could grab a bottle of water. As soon as you had your hands on the cold, plastic bottle you were gulping down the cool liquid, not realising just how flushed you felt.
"Whoa, slow down there, (L/n)!" You heard JJ's voice from behind you and you turned, pulling the bottle from your mouth wide-eyed. The blonde woman looked slightly alarmed. "Are you okay?"
You nodded.
"Yeah, yeah. I just forgot to bring water so I kinda got a bit dehydrated I think." You explain quickly. JJ frowned a little.
"You'd better be careful next time. And don't drink too quickly, you could accidentally choke."
You smiled sheepishly under her scolding and screwed the lid back on.
"Sorry, I'll drink slower."
JJ led you back to the office where you found the familiar sight of Spencer pouring over a map of the area. Pieces of string had been wrapped around pins indicating the last locations victims were seen and the scenes of their murders, no clear pattern in sight as there sometimes was. On one of the tables lay several empty paper coffee cups, a few rings of spilled coffee staining the surface top. He was speaking quietly to another member of the team, David Rossi, and Hotch; of whom stood beside the young Doctor with his arms folded across his chest, inevitably tightening the suit over his physique. You forced yourself to focus on the map.
Not long after your arrival you heard two sets of footsteps trudge into the room.
"No employees or frequent customers that are of note. We have nothing." Derek huffed as he made his way over to one of the chairs and slumped down into it. Emily joined you and JJ, her face appeared neutral but you could tell there was a hint of annoyance behind it. You heaved a deep sigh and felt eyes on you which made you instinctively seek out who it was, only to be startled when your eyes met deep brown ones, almost black in the artificial lighting. Hotch didn't look away, instead holding your gaze until you quickly turned away, feeling embarrassed.
"There has to be something that connects them all." Rossi said. Your eyes drifted across the map, narrowing a little. There had to be a mutual place that all these couples had been to in the final week leading up to their deaths. Somewhere that couples who enjoy sexual relations more than the average couple would go. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and quickly scrolled through your contacts until you found the one you were looking for. As you pressed dial you put the call on loudspeaker it merely rang once before there was an answer.
"Hello, you've reached the hotline for the simply fantabulous Penelope Garcia; how may I assist you?" A bubbly voice filtered through. All eyes were on the phone as you placed it on the table in front of you.
"Hiya, babe, I have a request for you. We're trying to find a link between the couples but so far nothing has cropped up. But I have a theory," you spoke, feeling a little awkward at what you were about to say. "Uhm, do you think you could try search for any strip clubs or even straight up sex clubs in the area? Easily accessible or possibly a more hidden club?"
You could feel his eyes on you again but you tried hard to stare at the phone. Garcia gasped from the other end of the line, but the sound of nails on a keyboard reassured you she was already on the case. Beside you, you felt Emily poke you and you lightly shoved her with your wide hip.
"Oh wow, I did not think I would be looking at this sort of thing today. But lucky you, I have a whole list of places! I-" there was clicking, followed by another gasp. "Oh my! That is certainly a homepage! You have no idea about the things I'm seeing right now, well, I mean I'll be sending these to you anyway but gosh! I'm going to do a thorough clean of my history once this case-"
"-Garcia, focus." Hotch said firmly and you heard a quick apology from the other end of the line. He moved to lean over the table, propping himself up with his hands as he took charge of the phone call. "We need security footage from these locations. Whatever you can give us, we'll take it."
More clacking of nails, you tried not to stare at your boss as he leered over your phone, forcing yourself to look away from his straining suit, the dangling tie, his large hands. Horrifically, you instead met eyes with the oldest of the group, Rossi, who had clearly caught you ogling Hotch from the glint in his experienced eyes and the twitch at the corner of his mouth. Shit. You could only hope no one else had witnessed your blatancy. Thankfully, Garcia's voice came through again.
"I'm sending over whatever footage I can find as well as the addresses to the establishments now."
You reached across the table, hyper aware of how close you were to Hotch as you took hold of your phone. He studied you carefully when you hurried backwards, swallowing thickly. You cleared your throat.
"Thanks, babe, you're a star." You said.
"Well of course, I'm your star." Garcia responded cheerily and the line went dead. Hotch straightened up and pulled his suit back into place, turning to address everyone.
"We need to review the footage and find out which location all the victims visited at some point within the last few weeks, then we can make a plan of action." He was stern as he spoke, hands in his pockets and his shoulders squared. There was a mutual noise of agreement from everyone and you all split into smaller groups around the monitors in the room. Hotch disappeared off to find the chief of police and you couldn't help but let your eyes follow him as he rushed out of the room, eyes transfixed on the tight fabric of his dress pants.
"Girl, you aren't even hiding it." You heard Derek say and you huffed, walking over to Spencer and sitting down next to him. He offered you an awkward smile and shuffled his chair to the side so you could get closer to the computer he was working on.
"Shut up, Derek." You muttered and he chuckled.
"I'm just saying, you should probably talk to him."
Your eyes widened in horror.
"Excuse me?"
Spencer cleared his throat.
"I agree, It's a bit obvious that he's interested in you too." He said softly and you huffed, shuffling your chair closer to the table and leaning towards the computer screen.
"Stop saying ridiculous things like that, both of you. We have work to do anyway."
Derek stepped back with his hands raised in surrender before retreating back to the computer he was situated at whilst Spencer simply watched you carefully, frowning a little.
It was dangerous for you to even dare think of such things. There were so many reasons why you couldn't let your mind go there. If not for the ethical reason due to his and your job statuses, then maybe because he was much older than you with a son. But also you'd seen photos of his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend and you certainly didn't look like his type. Not slender, not sleek like they were. You didn't think he was a shallow man but you'd also dealt with disappointment after disappointment with how others had treated you based on your appearance. You had to keep yourself safe, so your attraction for your boss would remain nothing more than a secret from him. You sighed softly as the young man beside you clicked on the first video footage from one of the private sex clubs. There was no more time to waste.
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The following few hours were downright miserable, viewing video, after video of footage from various clubs until you felt as though your eyes and your brain would melt out of your head. Finally, however, Emily made a noise of alarm, mouth full of cheap coffee, and alerted everyone to her computer. Swallowing the burning, bitter liquid, she retracted the footage a little and replayed it.
"Look, It's the Smiths! The first couple to be murdered. They came in to this very exclusive private sex club at the end of last month." She said hurriedly. In the slightly fuzzy camera quality indeed the couple waltzed into the lobby of the facility and approached the reception desk.
"Fast forward the feed." You heard Hotch say, causing goosebumps to bristle across your skin. You knew he had returned at some point but didn't expect him to stand right beside you. Someone made a call to Garcia and she confirmed with her database that it was indeed the couple. Further analysis of the footage from days afterwards showed that every single of the other couples had also been to this sex club too shortly before they were murdered. And yet they had no indication still of who was the murderer.
The day was drawing in at this point but as a final task before anyone would return to the hotel, Hotch sent out Morgan and Prentiss to the club to ask some questions, something that you couldn't help but chuckle at. The raven haired woman narrowed her eyes slightly at you.
"Laugh all you want but I'd be careful if I were you." She warned but you simply smirked.
"Don't have too much fun now, you two." You said cheerily, Morgan raised a brow at you and then the two were off begrudgingly. You felt JJ sidle up beside you.
"You know she will get you back." She murmured and you shrugged.
"She doesn't scare me."
"She scares me a little." Spencer said aloud, causing the two of you to turn your heads in his direction. He flushed, ducking his head slightly. "I- uh, well you know how she is."
"I wouldn't think you were intimidated by her, Spence, I mean you're the one who won the prank war with Morgan." JJ said, chuckling. A small smile tugged at his mouth.
"I wouldn't cross Emily, though."
You hummed and pushed up out of your chair.
"Well anyway, either of you want a hot drink?" You offered. JJ smiled.
"Oh no, thank you." As Spencer opened his mouth to respond she lifted a finger up at him. "Ah- you definitely don't need anymore coffee at this time of day."
A quiet giggle passed your lips and you turned to head to the kitchenette of the station.
"I'm not getting involved."
Walking out of the office you crossed the police department, avoiding any officers who still remained within the building, and came to a pause in the entryway of the kitchen, dipping away from the doorway out of sight. The two oldest members of the team were in a deep conversation, Hotch with his back to the door and Rossi facing the direction you were in. They spoke quietly, you knew you shouldn't listen in and yet you couldn't help it.
"Stop being absurd. What makes you think I'd even consider doing that?" Hotch hissed, his voice barely audible from where you were.
"Come on, Aaron, you can't keep this going forever. You know that." Rossi countered. There were more words said but were too quiet for you to decipher. That was until Hotch spoke a little louder again, sounding more frustrated.
"I am not currently wishing to be involved with anyone like that, Dave. I just can't."
In an instant you felt your heart in your throat, your eyes stinging.
Oh.
You felt stupid. Of course he wasn't interested in dating anyone. Even despite closely guarding your feelings for Hotch to be nothing further than a personal crush that he would never find out about it still hurt knowing you never had a chance to begin with.
Walking a few steps away from the kitchen, you made a point of entering the kitchen area, feigning surprise as your eyes landed on the two men in the room. Clearly, your entrance startled them, particularly him, who looked a little guilty before the slight expression glossed over with stern stoicism. Hotch glanced away, turning to Rossi.
"I'll see you at the hotel." He muttered and then he was brushing past you, his hand grazing your arm slightly and his scent consuming your senses. And then he was gone, all that remained was the slight coolness of his absence. You swallowed thickly but tried to mask your emotions from the seasoned agent still remaining.
"Coffee? There's some left still, maybe enough for one last cup." Rossi said softly. You smiled slightly as you approached him but shook your head.
"Ah no, thank you. I'm going to have tea. It's way too late for coffee, don't you think?"
The man hummed, watching you carefully. You suspected he had seen you earlier, that you'd heard the conversation but you didn't feel like talking about it.
"I hope you know that if you ever need someone to lend an ear that I'm always willing to listen."
Your hands faltered slightly during sorting out putting a tea bag in a clean mug. Your eyes flicked to the side at Rossi briefly.
"I know that."
"I know you heard what you think you heard but-"
"-Let's not- We aren't talking about this." You cut him off shakily, stopping yourself before you poured the hot water into the mug. "There's nothing to say about it."
You turned away from the kitchen counter to lean against it, rubbing your tired eyes with your palms. Rossi sighed quietly.
"You didn't catch the whole conversation." He tried after a moment. You scoffed.
"It wasn't for me to hear. I only did so by accident. I'm not going to read into it because the only people who were meant to hear what was discussed was you and-" Your throat felt tighter still, an unseen coil constricting you, just as the man you longed for constricted your heart and soul. You didn't say his name, couldn't. Mercifully, the man before you understood.
"I know."
You nodded. The mug of tea wasn't appealing anymore; the quiet promise of solitude in a hotel room called to you more than all else.
"I.... I think I need to call it a night. I don't feel well."
Rossi placed a hand on your upper arm and squeezed lightly.
"I'll inform the others and grab your stuff then I'll drive you to the hotel we're staying in," he fished out the keys to one of the SUVs and handed them to you, the metal clinking together. "Go, wait in the car for me." He said. The corners of your mouth tilted upwards in appreciation and you hurried out, eager to have even a moment to yourself.
The moment you pushed the doors of the building open and stepped outside you exhaled, grimacing slightly at the still, warm air of the night. You'd hoped it would have cooled down more, now that the sun had long since settled behind the horizon, but you felt stifled, the heat doing nothing to soothe the tightness in your throat and chest. Breathing shakily, you unlocked the car and climbed into the passenger seat, laying your head back against the head rest.
There was no reason for you to feel so upset about this. It wasn't as though you intended on ever approaching your boss about your ever growing feelings for him, you wouldn't dare do that. And yet you felt almost physically sick from heartbreak and the worst part was he didn't even know the pain you were in. Hell, you didn't even know where he was right now after he rushed out of the kitchen.
You knew the moment Rossi obviously had retrieved your belongings judging the way your phone had begun to vibrate from text notifications, no doubt from your coworkers. You'd answer them when you made it to the hotel, you decided. A few minutes later you spotted the older man exit the station and approach the car you were in, your bag and coat in hand. The sight made you smile even the tiniest bit, something that he noticed. You felt the car jolt a little as he opened the trunk so he could put your belongings down and jolt again when he slammed it lightly. A second later he was climbing in on the driver's side where you held out the car keys to him.
"Thanks." He took the keys and inserted them into the ignition, the engine roaring to life and you slipped your seatbelt on. Rossi glanced at you. "Let's get you to the hotel. Best thing about this is if there aren't enough rooms for one each you can have first pick on if you want the single or not." He said as you pulled out the station parking lot. You scoffed.
"Oh you know I'm absolutely taking the single this time." You retorted. In any other scenario you would have risked sharing a room, risk being paired with him. Now the thought made you want to cry. Your little smile faded and you turned your head to the window, resting on the cool glass. Sensing you were finished talking, Rossi didn't say anything else for the remainder of the drive.
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A little groan escaped your lips when you collapsed backwards on the single bed in your hotel room, exhaustion overrunning your very being from the long day. For a moment you simply lay there silently, staring at the dulled white ceiling whilst your mind raced. You knew this wasn't ideal, you couldn't let yourself be distracted from the case.
Huffing, you remembered that you needed to respond to messages to let the others know you would be alright by the morning. After pulling your phone out of your pocket, the screen lit up and your eyes flicked across the notifications on the lock screen. Lots of messages from your worried coworkers. You unlocked the phone and set about answering them one-by-one. JJ and Emily offered to stop by your hotel room to check in on you, not knowing you'd been feeling unwell up until this point, but you reassured them you would be okay.
Just as you finished your nightly routine and pulled the covers back, there was a knock on your door. Your brows furrowed slightly. Who would be knocking at this time? Sighing, you approached the door and leaned close to the peephole, expecting to see one of the ladies or maybe even Rossi.
Standing tensely with his shoulders squared was Aaron Hotchner. A quiet gasp escaped you and you jolted backwards from the door. What the fuck was he doing here?! With shaky hands, you pulled the door open and slightly covered yourself with it, hyper aware of your clothing situation. Hotch perked up and stared down at you.
"Rossi informed me that you weren't feeling well and had to retire early." He murmured gently, his face stern. You swallowed and silently invited him into your room by stepping back, pulling the door with you. He cautiously walked into your hotel room and you closed the door behind him, wrapping your arms around yourself in a feeble attempt to cover your body up. Why, oh why did you have to wear shorts that barely covered your ass and an old tee that wasn't as baggy anymore from being washed one too many times?
You cleared your throat and avoided looking in Hotch's direction.
"He's right. But I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow though."
You offered a little smile, eyes flicking to his face and realised he was staring. Except he wasn't staring at your face, no, his eyes were focused lower down at your chest. Christ. You quickly looked away again before he realised you'd caught him out and he hummed, the sound making you clench.
"What's wrong?"
Oh no. You couldn't answer that. Your eyes met his and you opened your mouth, hesitating with no response to give.
"I.... Just felt sick, that's all. I'll be okay though."
You never were good at hiding how you were really feeling, the deepening frown on the man's face before you merely evident of this.
"Are you certain? You can tell me anything, you know that." He said softly as he stepped closer to you. You nodded and tried smiling again at him.
"I know, sir. I promise I'm alright though." You tightened your arms around yourself until your flesh dipped under the pressure of your fingertips. Hotch's eyes trailed over you from head to toe, clearly unsatisfied with your reluctance to tell him the truth, but didn't push the matter further. You inhaled as he stepped closer still, his scent once more overwhelming you. His fingers flexed at his side as though he was conflicted and you wished he would reach out and touch you. Eventually, he sighed quietly and retreated a step.
"Alright. But I will be keeping an eye on you now."
Not good. You nodded though, then yawned and your cheeks flushed with warmth. Despite the tension, a small smile tugged at Hotch's mouth.
"You should get some rest." He said. You chuckled.
"Yeah, you as well though. I know what you're like."
He raised a brow at you.
"Really now?"
Your eyes widened and you stuttered.
"W-well I'm just saying, you do leave the office last, you're up earlier than everyone else too-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to dig your hole any deeper. You dared a quick glance his way and he was still slightly smirking.
"Get some rest, your boss is going to be up early again tomorrow to call everyone in."
A little chuckle escaped you and you followed Hotch to the door, grabbing the door as he opened it and hiding behind it again as you watched him make his way out into the corridor. He turned back to you and gazed down at you again.
"Good night, (L/n)." He murmured. Your eyes met and you gripped onto the door.
"Good night, sir."
He shifted, as though debating something in his head, then he turned and stalked down the corridor. You didn't close your door until he disappeared from sight. When you returned to your bed you collapsed down onto it whilst your mind raced. That night your dreams were filled with forbidden touches and kisses from the man you loved.
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And that's part one for now pls lemme know what you think and if anyone wants to be tagged in future works! Thank you for reading 💖💖
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months
Text
This Is Where You Stand With Me
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader
Warnings: none
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A/N: pls read this for better understanding thanksss!!
Sooo once upon a time, a few months ago actually, I started writing a Charles fanfic - never finished it - I had a reeeally good story in mind, wrote around 20 chapters and then I just got bored of it, BUT! I wrote some really good pieces that I'd be sorry no one ever read so I thought I'd post them. Actually I've already posted one part of the story that comes waay later than the ones I'm gonna post now, but anyway it's the one called Lovers .
Basically, it's a story about a girl (you) who broke up with her boyfriend of five years. She was very unhappy in the relationship because her boyfriend didn't treat her right all those years and then after she gathered her strength and broke up with him, she decided to live a little and go visit her best friend Sophie in Monaco. Sophie has been in a relationship with Carlos for a while, and his teammate Charles is in a relationship with a girl (Ava) who isn't with him for the right reasons and doesn't really care about him. due to a combination of circumstances, you stayed in Monaco to live in Sophie's apartment and started running social networks for Ferrari, filming behind the scenes and similar things. From the very beginning, you and Charles have a love-hate relationship. He keeps sending you mixed signals and you never know where you're standing with him.
Ok, hope you'll like it, let me know if you'd even like to read more parts! Bye!
This is the part where you, Carlos, Sophie, Kika, Pierre, Charles and Lando are on the yacht. Sophie introduces you to all of them here for the first time and you're very nervous about it so you drink a bit too much..
Y/N's POV
Carlos, Sophie and I were the first ones to arrive. Their firends, Pierre and his girlfirend Kika, Charles and his girlfriend Ava, and I guess the only single friend Lando, arrived shortly after us. For me, the biggest introvert on the planet, this was quite a large number of people to meet at once and I did feel very anxious.
Luckily there was a vast amount of drinks on the yacht so I found mine tranquilizers - cranberry vodka and sangria. As soon as the alcohol started coursing through my system, I soon opened up a topic to talk about with everyone. Well, almost everyone. Charles and his girlfriend Ava seemed to have some disagreements so they weren't really in the best mood. She looked like she didn't really wanna be here and he was annoyed that she didn't wanna be here at least that's what I heard when I was going to the toilet because they were alone inside and arguing.
The evening went on with us all sitting in the lounge area, talking and drinking. I was truly having so much fun and I got along the most with Lando. He's so sweet and caring and funny, I was enjoying his company. Eventually Ava left. She was able to leave since we didn't set sail but stayed in the marina. Charles was fuming that she left. When Carlos asked him why she left he said she made arrangements with her friends earlier, he didn't want to talk about it much. Charles went on the upper lounge area and Lando went after him so he wasn't alone and I stayed with Carlos, Sophie, Pierre and Kika in the lounge area on the main deck.
"I love you." I hear Carlos quietly says to Soph while looking at her lips. She was in a half-lying position in his arms. I was scrolling through my phone across from them but I couldn't help but look at them out of the corner of my eye.
"I love you." Sophie smiles and gently kisses him. My eyes got watery at the sight of them. My heart hurt a little and for a second I wished I had what they have. I wasn't envious of them, not at all, I was actually very happy for them and for the first "I love you". But for a second the excitement about the single life passed me and looking at the couples I felt a little lonely.
I get up from the couch and head towards the back of the yacht were was the entrance to the inner part of the yacht. I lean my elbows on the fence and look down at the sea.
Did I make a good decision?
Should i have given us another chance?
Will i regret giving up on us?
Suddenly questions that I constantly avoid facing start to roll around in my head.
No! Of course I made a good decision, he doesn't deserve another chance and I'm not gonna regret anything!
I attribute those thoughts to the excessive amount of alcohol I've consumed since we got here.
Y/n, you were miserable with him, pull yourself together please, you are stronger than these thoughts. I say to myself, but one tear escapes from my eye. And then another one. And one after that.
"Shit.." I breathe out putting my palms over my eyes.
"What happened, Y/n?" A voice asks and it startles me.
"Oh, you scared me." I say looking at Charles standing beside me, but quickly look away wiping the tears from my cheeks.
"Why are you crying?" Charles asks looking at me.
"Too many drinks led me to a moment of weakness. That's all." I say not really wanting to talk to him about my emotional state.
"And what is the reason behind that moment of weakness?" He asks.
"I don't feel like talking about it, but I was wondering how long have you and Ava been together?" I suddenly blurt out turning to look at him. My mind is racing. I was curious about their fight because the way he looked at her, he seemed like he's really in love, but her, not so much according to my estimate.
"A year and a half now. Why do you ask?"
"Sweet. And why did you fight today?" I ask shamelessly and he rises his eyebrows at my question.
"Not that it's any of your business, but-" Just as he was about to say something a strong pain shoots through my stomach. Rocking of the yacht from the waves together with cranberry vodka and sangria equals nausea.
"Oh no.. I-I think I'm gonna throw up.." And just in that moment as I lean over the fence it starts shooting right out of me.
I was hoping that somehow I would be able to control myself and not throw up in front of him, but it was stronger than me. And honestly if I were sober, I would be ten times more embarrassed than I am now.
"Oh come on." He sighs and to my surprise he moves my hair out of my face holding it back. "Please don't fall over, I'm not jumping in for you."
"Oh my God, I'm gonna die.."
"Out of embarrassment? Yeah, I would too if I were you." Charles mocks me, but still holds my hair.
"Oh give me a break, I'm going through a breakup!" I manage to say bitterly because of his lack of understanding for me. As if he should understand me. he doesn't know anything about me except my name, and I don't know anything about him either except that his name is Charles and that he has a girlfriend with whom he had a not so pretty fight today.
"Did he leave you because you were a drunk?" He continues with his provocation.
"Ha ha, not that it's any of your business, but I broke up with him." I'm being sassy like I didn't just throw up in front of a rich and hot F1 driver, but in that moment that fact doesn't phase me one bit.
"Okay, if you say so." He laughs. "Come here, sit on this couch please." I can't help but notice his hand tightly being wrapped around my waist as he leads me to the couch. "Not that I care, but I'm so bored that I'll listen to why you broke up with your boyfriend."
"Well, now I'm not gonna tell you." I cross my arms acting childish making him laugh again. I roll my eyes and chuckle a little myself.
"Y/n? Where are you?" Right in that moment Sophie shows up breaking the sweet moment between the two of us.
"Your friend is running wild over here, she wanted to throw herself off the yacht because her boyfriend left her." Charles says getting up from the couch and my mouth falls open.
"What?!" Sophie's eyes go wide. "Throw yourself because of him? Are you out of your fucking mind?" She asks in complete shock.
Before saying anything to Sophie to calm her down I follow Charles with my eyes as he leaves laughing.
"He's lying of course, I got sick from the alcohol and threw up."
"Why is he suddenly being all smiley like that? Until a little while ago he was furious because of Ava?"
"I don't know, he obviously has issues." I shrug with my shoulders wanting to laugh but manage to control myself.
I'm usually very good at reading people at first glance. Whoever doesn't make a good impression on me in the beginning, whoever doesn't sit well with me, almost always turns out to not have the best personality. Unfortunately, it rarely happens that someone pleasantly surprises me if I don't like them at first. I could say that my intuition is very good and accurate and I really should listen to it more often.
But with Charles that wasn't the case. I couldn't read him at all. He's kinda mysterious, he seems a bit cocky and conceited, but gentle and caring at moments. At least that's what I think I got from today.
He's interesting though.
Part 2 here
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The Current event makes me smile since it kind of confirms a headcanon I had that the Great Seven have animated movies based on them. Makes me wonder about the plot of the movies
Disney should get on the Twisted Wonderland AU Animated Remakes. What is Ursula was a good witch, what if Scar was right to take the throne and did he take it from Mufasa? (Or whoever is the stand in for him)
The Evil/Beautiful Queen...actually GOOD?
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Yeah, it makes sense! Since the Great Seven are historical figures and the stuff of legends, surely there would be popular media made in their image. It’s like how the Disney fairy tales borrow from stories in the public domain or how there are historical retellings and reinventions (Hamilton, anyone?).
I believe TWST has mentioned films based on their own stories and history before too, but purely in the animated sense rather than live action. In book 3, Ace and one of the Atlantica Museum guards talk about an animated movie based on the tale of the mermaid princess and her prince; this movie is said to have come out ~30 years ago, which corresponds with Disney’s animated The Little Mermaid. Ace compliments the movie’s soundtrack too way to stroke your own ego, Disney/j.
Later on in Tapis Rouge, the characters discuss other films based on the Great Seven, including one Queen of Hearts movie. A Sea Witch movie is also mentioned; in it, she “goes gigantic” and also sings as she brews potions. The Octatrio quite enjoy this particular film.
(Side note: Another anon once suggested to me that people probably also write fanfics of Neige and Vil since they’re celebrities… Think like “My mom sold me to One Direction?!” Wattpad kinds of fics, but replace One Direction with Vil or something. You can read those post here!)
It’s… interesting this event specifically has Vil promoting a live action adaption of an in-universe animated film about the Beautiful Queen—an animated film which was the first full-color animated movie AND it originally released close to 90 years ago. They also reference the funding issues that Disney suffered while producing Snow White + inviting bank employees in to preview the movie to acquire more investments, stating that the studio that made the animated Beautiful Queen experienced the same. The in-game live action is even slated to come out “NEXT YEAR”. They’re not being subtle here with TWST’s references to their own version of the irl Disney Snow White (the live action is coming out in 2025, the OG is also almost 90 years old, etc.). I wonder if the EN server will actually get Tapis Rouge around the time of the irl release of Disney’s live action Snow White as part of a promotional campaign? 😂
UPDATE: There are even more not-so-subtle references to Disney animations in part 4 of the event, including discussion of cel animation, rotoscoping, adding blush to the characters, and how Disney brought in real animals/observed the “real thing” to help with animating similar scenes or subjects. They also cheekily say that most animation nowadays is CG 💀
I know some books under Disney publishing try to show alternate tellings or show the villains in a more sympathetic light, but I don’t know that they would ever commit to fully animating a film like that. It definitely would not happen in the style of traditional animation, Disney no longer seems well-equipped to handle that task 😔 I feel like it would also be pretty niche or might not get overwhelming positive reception with recent audience calls for “true bad guys” instead of twist or sympathetic villains (though I’m not sure what percentage of people watching Disney actually have this opinion).
I do wonder how those “AU” films would work though…? It wouldn’t be as simple as suddenly turning the G7 into “good guys”. The scenario and other characters would also have to drastically change. TWST doesn’t necessarily make the original “good guys” “bad” in a world where the villains are historical figures; we still hear plenty of positive or neutral stories about the achievements of the mermaid princess and other Disney heroes.
There are also times when the same story diverges into multiple separate stories that seemingly have no connection to one another. For example, there is a story where a princess marries a street rat (clearly referencing Aladdin) and they live happily ever after in spite of the difference in their social statuses. However, there simultaneously exists a story in which the Sorcerer of the Sands saves a princess from being deceived by a fake prince (also referencing Aladdin). The same goes for the mermaid princess (Ariel)—there is both a story referring to a “mermaid princess” who married a human prince and also a different story (clearly still pulled from the same film) about a mermaid who made a deal with the Sea Witch to find true love but broke her contract in the end.
Very cool idea, just not sure where it would lead or it it’s feasible or worth it monetarily for Disney.
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zumicho · 2 months
Text
SEASON ONE: EP4 — SUNRAY STIMULANT
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three hours ago,
she held a blue handkerchief in her hands, almost identical to everyone else’s — if not for their target embroidered in ivory.
skeptical looks are being exchanged as tanaka makes his rounds with a storage box of foam water blasters. there’s a pull on the air that wasn’t there before. no one is talking. they all want to win.
her victim read between her palms:
kenma kozume.
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three hours later
the speedboat cockpit is clearly designed for one. that seems irrelevant to him: nishinoya is settled beside her, the narrow space forcing them close, their legs pressed together. over the years of friendship, a tolerance was built to touch. yet in this confined space, the warmth is almost palpable. he thumbs at the small of her back. despite the flush creeping up their necks, not a word is spoken. sure, it’s hot out.
blame it on the heat.
hinata, gripping a sleek graphite fishing rod, feels the first tug. the rod bends sharply as a trout is hauled onboard. noya jumps up, holding it down. they agreed to a 3-man team awhile ago, but who would say no to fishing with these two?
there must be some kind of stimulant in the air, she thinks, watching them both.
sweat trickles down shoyo’s well-defined muscles, glistening under the post merridiem sun. he wipes his forehead with the hem of his tank top, the ripped sleeves bunching at the action. her eyes trail down to his exposed stomach, taking in the sight of his bronze-kissed abs. is this what brazil does to a person?
catching her gaze, he smiles knowingly. if he wants to, he doesn’t say anything about it. “it’s getting dark. we should find light before someone sneaks up on us.”
“they won’t,” nishinoya’s focused on unhooking the fish from the bait. “assassin doesn’t start officially ‘till tomorrow.”
she steps between them. “how do I know you two won’t betray me?”
sho holds his victim’s name up scrunched in his left hand — now grinning. “we’ll tell you ours if you tell us yours?”
suddenly, the boat lurches. it hit something. there, bobbing in the wake, was a bright red sand bucket filled with water balloons. a large smiley-face sticker is wrapped around the handle.
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author’s note: sorry this took so long lol iwaizumi racer au draft has taken up 90% of my life — go think about this .
GUESTLIST @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @cloudybillows @s1ckntw1st3d @suna-rins-sunshine @hyenagoated @hibernatinghamster @yogurtkags @acowboykisser @yukatoraa @fishrene @iwaizluv @iluvmang @neoclb @kr1nqu @lvtilzs @wave2mia @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @bubooo @bectoshi @gra-eae @cr4yolaas @cloooudddy1 @jaynawayna @ryuverse @miliondollagirl @soulfullystarry @fiannee @yumiecheesecrackers @ast4rg1rl @eujoana89 @whenanafallsinlove @arraxthatsonjah @spencerpng @staileykout @kaiiibxby @miiyas @serossidechick @chososcamgirl @yuminako @diorzs @muyyie @krissiekris @from-mae @p1nkdiary @justanotherbimboslxt @mfcherry @solaqes
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Hi there! As a new fic writer, I was wondering if you had any writing advice (in general), but especially for writing dead dove. Do you have any advice on how to make your writing impactful and more emotionally devastating (lol)?
I’ve always thought writing that hits a reader so hard that it effects them emotionally—as if they’re a part of the story themselves—are some of the best written (and my personal favorites to read).
Thanks so much!
the most important and effective advice in general that I can give anybody when it comes to writing, is that ‘practice makes perfect’.
however, it’s also important to note that I am by no means saying my writing is ‘perfect’ — because you (general you) stop learning and improving your skills the second you believe what you’re doing has already reached the point where it’s ‘perfect’, and that’s where it becomes a problem. there’s a difference between being proud of yourself and your work (which you should always be) and thinking that your work is already ‘perfect’. 
so what I’m saying is; as long as you’re willing to keep learning, you will only keep getting better. always practicing, always learning.
your first ever work may not be as satisfying as you want it to be, and that is okay. looking back, the first ever fic I wrote almost 8 years ago would not be satisfying if I wrote it recently — considering how my writing style has changed, as I’ve found (still am continuing to find) what represents myself best in my works, and how I’ve learned and improved my skills — but that fic was still my creation and I still am proud of myself and of the art I’ve created; the thing is that I’ve practiced and learned and I’ve come a long way, and that’s what really matters.
as for writing dead dove, my advice would be ‘don’t hold yourself back just because you think this is too violent or too disturbing’. as I’ve always said, there is no such thing as ‘too far’, ‘too graphic’ or ‘too triggering’ when it comes to any form of art. 
that being said, content warning is just as important. warn your potential readers beforehand about what they might be getting themselves into if they decided to give your writing a read. this doesn’t mean you have to ‘spoil’ your fic to them, just let your readers know what kind of content is in the work — for instance, child death, blood and gore, non-con, drug use, human trafficking, etc — so that your readers can decide for themselves if the work is too much for them.
but that does NOT mean you should stop writing about This Specific Topic You Love to Write About just because it’s too triggering for your readers. why? because, while your readers should always be appreciated, you don’t write for them. you write FOR YOURSELF.
write what you want to read.
write whatever you want.
you, the writer, are the priority of your work.
don’t write something you don’t want to write just because it’s what your readers want. 
don’t hold yourself back from writing what you want to write just because your readers don’t like it.
the most important factor about writing fanfics and/or original works is that writing should be something you enjoy. not a job (even if you write original work as a career), you should always have fun doing what you’re doing. that’s how you can do your best.
the trick to writing an impactful and emotionally devastating scene is if YOU are invested in what you’re writing enough that words come from within yourself. and you can only be invested in what you’re writing that much if you love and enjoy what you’re writing.
it’s more difficult to love and enjoy what you're doing, if you’re doing it to please other people.
you see where I’m getting at? it’s all about your love, enjoyment and passion as a writer. 
you don’t write for your readers. you write for yourself, and your work will attract to it the right readers who love the same thing you do. and that’s how you successfully write an impactful and emotionally devastating scene that can make your readers cry.
don’t think about whether or not your writing will have enough impact on your readers when you write, because thinking about that will only distract and prevent you from reaching your best potential. just be invested in your writing. 
don’t think about whether or not your readers will like this; because worrying about whether or not your readers will like it will also distract and prevent you from doing your best.
if you want your readers to feel as if they’re a part of the story themselves, you yourself have to be emotionally invested in it that you feel like you’re a part of the story yourself. and that can only happen if you’re doing it for you. not for your readers. not for anybody else. but for you.
repeat after me ‘I am the priority of my writing’. 
again, be invested in your writing. write whatever you want to write, no matter how disturbing or fucked up or violent your work gets, write whatever you want. just don’t forget to tag all the trigger warnings properly.
you don’t ‘try to attract people to read your work’. you get invested in your work, you write whatever you want, out of love and passion, and your work will attract the right readers to it.
I have no doubt you will become one of the best writers out there, anon. keep learning. keep writing. I’m rooting for you.
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