#the end that's my theory and i want to hear all of yours too

[rasberrylovc]

LOVE TO KEEP ME WARM - jj maybank !

-- on christmas morning, on vacation, jj refuses to let you even as much as get out of bed. he insists on staying in bed during the cold day.

word count 702

!!' soft!jj, fwb!jj, fwb!reader

warnings implied sex (lmk if i need to add some)

notes this is my first time writing on tumblr (usually writing on wattpad) so sorry if this wasnt as good as expected. im open to writing tips if anyone has any !!

SOMEHOW, you had, once again, convinced the pogues to spend vacation in your hometown. it was the one place you knew would always snow on christmas day, which you absolutely adored.

you all stayed at your parents house. your mom had insisted for you to, due to having just enough beds for everyone. well, enough for two to a room, and one on the pullout in the living room.

the sleeping plan was quite simple. pope and cleo in room 1, sarah and john b in room 2, you and kie in your old room, and jj on the pullout.

however, jj had convinced kiara to let him bunk with you instead, going on about how it was impossible to fall asleep without another person in the room, and refusing to sleep in a room with any of the others due to the couples being paired together.

she hesitantly agreed, mainly just to get him to stop rambling. so she took the pullout, while jj slept in your room with you.

CHRISTMAS MORNING was definitely the most exciting thing to you. all you wanted to do was get up, dress warmly, go shopping, get hot chocolate, then come back to surprise the others with the freshly bought gifts you got for them.

only, of course, jj had found a way to stopping all those plans. the second you tried to get up, you felt his arm tighten around you. he was still half asleep, but awake enough to know he wanted you to stay.

you turn around to face him, very obviously confused. you hadnt realized he was already awake. that alone ruining your plans, let alone him not even letting you get up.

"jay, i need to shower." you complained. he pretended to think for a second. "mm, no." he eventually disagrees. "just stay in bed, mk?" he wasnt really giving you a choice, his tone supporting that theory.

you groaned in response to his protest. "i have plans." before you can continue on, jj presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

jj kissing you wasnt too surprising to you. what caught you off guard was that he didnt do it in a state of lust, as he usually did. it was soft and slow instead of his usual kisses. but you kissed him back nonetheless.

"s'too cold to be going out anyway. cmon, we can celebrate tomorrow." he says after pulling away. it was a tempting offer, really. only you knew youd have to confirm with the others first.

but then again, he wasnt really asking. he was more just trying to get you to agree. but it was safe to say you were not making it out of the house without him immediately pulling you back inside.

"fine." you reluctantly agree. you were already getting cold anyways, what did you really have to lose?

jj smiles, pecking your lips time after time, causing a small smile to appear on your face. he eventually stops, tugging you closer as you bury your head in his chest.

you could faintly smell his cheap cologne, and what you assumed to be the cookies everyone made the night before. you surpringly enjoyed the smell.

he plants one final kiss onto the top of your head, before drifting off back to sleep. you let out a hum of amusement as you hear his soft snores, before falling asleep yourself.

a/n kinda short, but i just wanted to write something to end my block. its a few hours late to post this depending on time zones, but i hope you liked it anyways !!

taglist none !

not proofread

[theoutcastwrites]

Try Again - Il Dottore x Reader

This is a vent fic. Let's just get that out of the way. I wrote this because I needed Dottore to do The Thing™. Don't read too much into this. The feelings will pass

"You've been staring at that journal for the past fifteen minutes," said Zandik, "what's the matter?"

You weren't sure it could be put into words - all the self-doubt that tormented you as of late, the thoughts that circled your mind every waking hour. Attempts had been made, in vain, to prepare a small speech in your head in case Zandik ever caught on. That, of course, he did, but you had nothing to say; not a single eloquent monologue to convey your insecurities in a way that would provoke understanding and not bewilderment.

I feel inadequate as of late. I don't feel like I'm wanted anywhere. Nothing I do matters anymore.

All miserable words that would have been met with a stern look, a simple "you are wanted by me; thus all that you do matters to me".

You tapped your pen against the empty page of your journal. You were desperate to say something, yet whatever it was that would eventually come out of your mouth already felt lacking. Nothing was enough.

"Talk to me," he urged, "you know there is nothing in this world that can't be solved. Tell me what bothers you."

You swallowed. "I feel as if I've lost all my skills. For writing, I mean. I can't come up with anything new and whatever ideas I have feel mediocre at best; uninteresting and aimless. I don't know, I..."

I think I should just give up.

The thought had crossed your mind countless times before. Wouldn't it be so much easier to abandon your work altogether? Why continue hurting yourself with this when you could simply let it all go?

You were tempted. Still, there was something that forced you to keep trying; something strange and incomprehensible that begged you not to give up this one thing that you knew.

Zandik pulled you out of your thoughts, "as far as I can tell - from what little I've seen of your scribbles - you've been writing the same themes over and over. What about trying something new?"

"I have tried. Nothing feels fitting."

"Then take a break. If I hit a dead end in my research I find something else to occupy my mind. Surely reading someone else's works will help you view your ideas from different perspectives?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. It all sounded so simple in theory - this issue should have been so easy to solve - yet nothing had worked. You felt as though you were stuck between four brick walls with no tools to break them down; nothing but your own fingernails to scrape them in hopes that someone would hear you from the other side.

"It doesn't feel so simple," you said softly.

"Why?"

"If I take a break now, I feel as if I'll only get worse." There came the first half of your horrifyingly vulnerable confession, and with it - a lump in your throat that came to embarrass you even further. You whispered the second half with enough shame to drown an entire nation: "If I don't push something out now, I'm afraid people will stop caring about me."

Zandik didn't spare you enough time to hide the tears that already clouded your vision; for he was by your side in the blink of an eye, gently pulling the journal out of your hands and hiding it behind his back.

"Why would you let such a thought become your truth?"

He laced his fingers with yours, wiped at the stray tears on your cheeks with the other hand. His glove rubbed against your skin in a way that was more uncomfortable than soothing but you made no move to stop him. Zandik continued to soothe you in the way he knew best.

"There's no race to run, do you understand? If you keep telling yourself that you'll become spoiled lest you write now, you'll never be able to see your brilliance as I do."

Zandik's eyes softened when you weakly squeezed his hand in acknowledgement. Thank you, you wanted to say, for seeing in me everything that I do not.

"Everything comes and goes; just as dusk turns to dawn without waiting for you to keep up." Zandik placed a tender kiss on your knuckles, "so don't let one difficult moment define you, my dear."

[linagram]

[𝚙𝚛𝚎-𝚝𝟸 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚊 #𝟶𝟷] 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜

IT'S HERE LET'S GOOOOO okay i'm slowly starting to post more t2 stuff, so uh. i hope you guys are ready for this because i'm not

also i drew this in like half an hour i kinda wanted it to look messy

(warnings: mentions of physical assault/violence and attempted suicide, also Jackalope might be a bit OOC)

[ The door opens ]

*sounds of footsteps*

Eiji: Guard 002, did you call me?

Eiji: Did you need something?

Eiji: ...

Eiji: "Huh. No response."

Eiji: Guard 002, are you here?

Eiji: Miki, are you here?..

Eiji: "Where did that girl go.."

???: Ah, finally, here you are.

Eiji: !

Eiji: "What was that?.."

Eiji: Is there anybody here? You better show yourself right now or I-

???: Now, now, calm down. I know that you're one of the scariest guards we've had, but at least try to act a bit more chill this time.

Eiji: .. "We"?

Eiji: W-wait, who am I even talking to?

Eiji: Am I.. talking to the person who created this place?

???: .. Did you not notice me yet?

???: I'm literally right in front of you.

Eiji: What are you talking about? I can't see anyone here-

Eiji: H-huh?..

Jackalope: Hello there, "Guard 001".

Eiji: ...

Jackalope: Now, I know that you're the strict and responsible type, so I hope we will have a proper conversation-

[ Eiji throws something at Jackalope ]

Jackalope: .. Seriously?

Jackalope: You know what, maybe I should've chosen the girl. I'm sure she would be much easier and nicer to talk to.

Jackalope: Wait, are you-

[ Eiji throws something at him again ]

Jackalope: .. Yeah, Guard 002 would be the better option.

Eiji: *breathing heavily* Why.. are you still.. talking?..

Eiji: .. I'm not going insane, right? I'm completely normal, I'm a completely sane person..

Jackalope: *laughs*

Eiji: T-this thing can laugh too??

Jackalope: Eiji, you're one of the least sane people I've ever met.

Eiji: YOU KNOW MY NAME??

Eiji: I..

Eiji: Maybe I should just leave. Maybe I should just leave this room.

Eiji: These last days have been.. not so easy, all this stress is getting to me.

Eiji: It's not like I hate being the guard of this prison, it's just.. It can be very hard sometimes.

Jackalope: Yeah, you actually enjoy being a guard a lot.

Eiji: YOU'RE STILL HERE??

Jackalope: *sighs* Calm down already, will you?

Jackalope: And stop throwing stuff at me, okay? You have a lot of energy for someone with a body as weak as yours.

Eiji: ...

Eiji: .. What did you say?

Jackalope: I know a lot about you, Eiji. And about your partner too.

Jackalope: I've been watching you two all this time.

Eiji: .. H-how?

Eiji: No, like, how can you..

Eiji: How can you even talk?

Eiji: Wait, is that a guard uniform?

Eiji: Does that mean that you're also-

Jackalope: Now, I understand that you have a lot of questions and you will get answers to them eventually..

Jackalope: Probably.

Jackalope: But listen, appearing like this wasn't really a part of my plan either. I have a reason to come and talk to you in person like this.

Jackalope: If it wasn't for one small thing, I would just continue to study you two, it's so entertaining to watch you and Guard 002, haha..

Jackalope: Ahem. But anyway, we do have something important to talk about. You might want to sit down for this one.

Eiji: ...

[Eiji sits down]

Jackalope: Perfect.

Jackalope: Now, Eiji, so you understand how Milgram works, right?

Eiji: O-of course I do.

Eiji: We interrogate the prisoners, we extract their videos, we watch them.. and then we judge them.

Eiji: That's.. all we have to do.

Jackalope: Haha, really? Is that all?

Jackalope: I'm sure you understand that the guards have to do much, much more than that.

Eiji: I mean..

Eiji: It's not like I want to do it, but I have to cook for them and also, um..

Jackalope: Eiji, you know I mean something else.

Jackalope: You know, like making sure the prisoners don't die before their final verdict.

Eiji: !

Jackalope: Oh well, if they die, I guess it cannot be helped-

Eiji: .. W-what do you mean by that?

Eiji: How.. how much do you actually know?

Jackalope: Well, I know everything about those recent incidents.

Jackalope: One of the prisoners has tried to injure the two other prisoners, who are also some of the most vulnerable ones here.

Jackalope: One prisoner is now trying to do literally anything to make others pay attention to him, which doesn't always end well.

Jackalope: And there also was a prisoner who tried to kill himself-

Eiji: ENOUGH!

Eiji: I.. Now I understand.

Eiji: You really do know everything.

Jackalope: Haha, of course I do. Now, I'll just get straight to the point.

Jackalope: Eiji, you remember how the trial system works, right?

Eiji: Me and Guard 002 have to discuss everyone's crimes and we have to make a decision about their verdict.

Jackalope: And would you say it's hard to make those decisions?

Eiji: .. Why don't you tell me that yourself if you've been watching us all this time?

Jackalope: Wow, look at you, acting so brave already!

Jackalope: I thought you had more respect for this place.

Eiji: .. Sorry.

Eiji: It is.. hard. Me and Guard 002 have completely different opinions and values, she thinks we should forgive all the prisoners and their crimes don't matter, meanwhile I think they all deserve to die for their sins.

Eiji: So.. we often end up arguing because of that.

Jackalope: Can you say that the first trial has been stressful for you?

Eiji: .. Well, it's only the first trial, so it's natural that we're only getting used to this-

Jackalope: It takes a lot of time to come to the same conclusion, doesn't it?

Jackalope: You want to punish all the prisoners here, meanwhile Guard 002 wants to forgive them. You two couldn't be any more different than this.

Eiji: .. Yes, I don't agree with her opinion most of the time, but I still think she deserves to be a guard. She has a reason to forgive them and when she explains it, she's able to convince even someone like me that these murderers deserve a second chance.

Jackalope: Judging by the results of the first trial, one might say that she's too good at it.

Eiji: .. Of course, you know about that too, don't you?

Jackalope: I have to say, these results have.. surprised me a bit.

Jackalope: All of these people are murderers and some of them committed the worst and scariest crimes you can ever imagine, but..

Jackalope: Most of them have been voted innocent. Actually, all but three of them were forgiven.

Jackalope: I guess Guard 002 really is good at her job, isn't she?

Eiji: Are you.. disappointed?

Eiji: I promise I will be more strict with them this time. I won't hold back. I will make sure everyone gets the punishment that they deserve-

Jackalope: I'm not here to tell you what's good and what's bad to do.

Jackalope: You can judge them in any way you want, I couldn't care less. You can vote all of them innocent or you can vote all of them guilty if you want. You don't even have to judge them based on your morals or whatever. Or you can vote them based on that, if you want.

Jackalope: Also, who am I to tell you to stop agreeing with a pretty girl all the time?

Jackalope: But again, you two are completely different people which makes this whole voting process a unique and interesting experience, but also..

Jackalope: Would you say that this voting system is flawed?

Eiji: ...

Eiji: N-no, of course not..

Jackalope: You deserve to be praised for being so loyal to this place, haha.

Jackalope: And yes, I think making two guards judge a prisoner can actually be better than just making one person choose.

Jackalope: What if that person is a coward who's too afraid of making any decisions? What if that person doesn't want to take that responsibilty? What if they just refuse to vote?

Eiji: Actually.. what happens if you refuse to vote?

Jackalope: Anyway, I'm sure you two have thought at least once about just.. not agreeing with each other and not wanting to change your mind.

Eiji: .. I guess so, yes.

Jackalope: So, Eiji, can you tell me what happens when two people can't come to the same conclusion at all and they just can't make a decision?

Eiji: Wait, but what if we just.. vote the way that we want to vote? What if Guard 002 votes someone innocent, while I vote that person guilty? What happens next?

Jackalope: *sighs*

Jackalope: Can you not answer my question with another question?

Eiji: Oh, sorry.

Eiji: I guess.. They try to find a compromise in some way?

Jackalope: But what if they can't do that? I don't think you can do something like that so easily when you have to decide whether you want to forgive or punish a murderer.

Eiji: I..

Eiji: Well, I don't know. That will probably end with a fight.

Jackalope: Hm, so your mind immediately jumped to that, huh..

Jackalope: Is it because you're used to solving problems that way?

Eiji: Um..

Jackalope: Well, I don't care about your backstory, so let me just answer the question myself.

Jackalope: When two people can't make a decision and almost end up arguing because of that..

Jackalope: They might want to ask someone for a third opinion.

Eiji: ...

Eiji: Huh?

Jackalope: You know, maybe they will just ask their friend to help them out or maybe they will ask a random person what they would do in their situation.

Jackalope: Maybe that person will have a completely different opinion, but they can still be able to guide those two and give them some advice.

Jackalope: Or, well, at least they can just be there to make sure there won't be something like a 50/50 result.

Jackalope: .. Hey, are you okay? You seem kinda pale.

Eiji: .. What does that mean?

Eiji: What do you mean by "a third opinion"?

Jackalope: Well, it's not something that you have to worry about, it's not gonna change the voting process in any way.

Jackalope: Maybe we won't even have to do that-

Eiji: Third opinion.. Asking someone to "help us out"..

Eiji: Making sure there won't be a 50/50 result..

Eiji: Hey..

Eiji: Does that mean there's a third guard hiding somewhere?

Jackalope: Hey, relax, I've already told you that it most likely won't come to that.

Eiji: BUT IT MEANS YOU'RE ALREADY PLANNING TO DO THAT, RIGHT?

Eiji: .. D-does that mean there's someone else in this prison and we don't know about it?

Eiji: Are they aware of what's going on? Or maybe they're "asleep"?

Eiji: .. Wait a second.

Eiji: Me and Guard 002..

Eiji: We both are related to other prisoners.

Eiji: Me and Prisoner 005 are brothers and Guard 002 is most likely related to Prisoner 007.

Eiji: And I don't think this is a coincidence, so..

Jackalope: Wow, you really are smart.

Eiji: .. Does that mean you're hiding someone's family member here? If it has to be someone's sibling..

Eiji: Wait.. I remember. Prisoner 002 has an older brother, Prisoner 004 has an older brother and a younger sister, Prisoner 006 has a younger brother, Prisoner 009 has an older brother and two younger sisters and Prisoner 010 has a younger brother.

Eiji: If you're hiding someone's sibling, it has to be-

Jackalope: Eiji. Does this mean that you don't want to do all of this anymore?

Jackalope: Does this mean you don't want to be a guard anymore?

Jackalope: Do you really want to let Guard 002 forgive your brother like that?

Eiji: ...

Jackalope: Listen, I also wasn't a fan of this whole concept of "choosing the prisoners' siblings as the guards". Doesn't that sound like a cheap plot twist? What, is this some kind of drama?

Jackalope: But eh, I went along with it.

Eiji: .. I'm sorry.

Eiji: I'm sorry, I really do have a lot of respect for this place and if I could, I would stay here so that I can judge even more prisoners.

Eiji: It's just..

Eiji: Making two people with completely different opinions judge someone, choosing people who are related to the prisoners to be the guards, saying that if we can't make a decision, there will be a third person to help us so that the prisoners can be properly judged..

Eiji: .. All of this doesn't sound like a normal trial.

Eiji: It's like.. a game. It's like someone is playing a game and they want to see just what exactly they can do while playing it. It's like they want to see just how many possibilities this game has.

Eiji: So they start.. experimenting with it, basically.

Eiji: And if I want to punish everyone so badly and I get annoyed when I see how many prisoners have been voted innocent and I want to convince Guard 002 that I'm right and she's wrong..

Eiji: .. Doesn't that mean that I've fallen right into some kind of trap? Doesn't that mean that I'm just a character in that game and I'm getting ordered around, but I don't even notice it?

Eiji: .. Wait, where are you?

Eiji: Hey, weird rabbit thing! Where did you go?

Eiji: .. For some reason I don't feel like I'm that powerful anymore. Do my decisions even matter in this place?

Eiji: Oh, there you are-

[Eiji goes silent for a moment]

Eiji: .. Wait, what am I even thinking?

Eiji: I'm the guard of the Milgram prison. I have a job to do.

Eiji: I have to go and tell everyone about the second trial.

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[mrs-weasley-reid]

JULY REC FICS

Hello, my sweets!! I wanted to try something out to provide my full and utter support to all the amazing writers I've come across in the form of monthly rec fics (starting this month). Join me in giving them love through comments and reblogs. It really is a joy to hear how you're doing as a writer. It makes up for all the angst we write lol

I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. And the number of fics will depend on how much I've read the entire month. Also, please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+, so MINORS should not be interacting in any way, especially when the authors themselves specify it.

— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿

Spencer Reid

✿ a question unasked by @easy-there-leftovers ↳ SOOOO ADORABLE. I'm a workaholic craze gal, so it speaks to me on a silly level.

✿ missing the happy hormone by @lavenderspence ↳ I'm a sucker for Spencer fluff this month, what can I say? This fic Tina made had my waterworks going on for about a minute because it's so sweet

✿ desk duty by @reiderwriter ↳ All you have to know is the amount of evil laugh I made while reading this

✿ the theory of love by @ophelia-is-complex ↳ Genuine intimacy is quite a challenge to write, but THIS ONE, this one had me in a sappy mood

✿ like nothing matters by @cerisereids ↳ gagged and had to pause the reading so many times because HELLO— had me spiraling at work

✿ the devils disguise by @qlossytbh ↳ I said I sobbed a little bit, but I actually cried so much I ended up taking a nap and felt better afterward. It's all fluff, though, don't get me wrong. I'm just very dramatic when the red devil's on the clock

✿ not so funny by @reidmania ↳ Angsty, that made me wanna start a fight with some random twiggy tall guy. Sooooo good!

✿ cloaked in passions touch by @raekensluver ↳ If you don't like Spencer's hands, you're fucking lying to yourself!!!!!

✿ language of devotion by @gghostwriter ↳ I'm in love with reid, and this fic just had me stumbling back onto his lap like a good gal

✿ this req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ Sorry, I'm not sure what the title is, but it's so adorable and got me to go to work, so kind of a lifesaver tbh

✿ hallucinate by @gghostwriter ↳ Oooo, this one was so cute, hehe. Honestly, I lean towards Spencer fluff lately just because I've been too overstimulated with work this past month, so READ THIS ONE ITS CUTE

✿ it's golden, like daylight by @dudeitiskarev ↳ I actually felt like I was reader the entire time I read this. It's well-written and so adorable and something that should be framed in a museum

✿ much ado about nothing series by @incognit0slut ↳ binged it all morning, and I was whipped !!! It's ongoing, so if I have to wait, so does everybody else

— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦

Aaron Hotchner

✦ choiceless hope series by @hotchfiles ↳ This series had me rolling over my bed on a Saturday. A lot of feelings getting played (mostly mine)

✦ beanstalk by @solardrop ↳ I kid you not; I was giggling like a weirdo when I read it. And that itself deserves the recommendation.

✦ too busy being yours by @hotchfiles ↳ Lari knows how to get a sick gal to giggle. I love bau!rossi!reader. I love Rossi as reader's dad, so I enjoyed it more than I thought I would

�� ignorance by infatuation by @boneblushed ↳ Oh, this one was a nice snack while on my break at work. LOVED IT SO MUCH

✦ hungover by @basketonthedoorstepofthefbi ↳ Mmmm, such a good read! Plus Jemily is there sooooo

✦ from across the bar by @hotchscoffeecup ↳ Evil laugh ensues. A nice cuppa of some good ole kinky stuff

✦ doomed by @hotchfiles ↳ guys, I stopped my car in the middle of driving home just to read it, so it's THAT good. Honestly, I strongly encourage everyone to read all of Lari's works! She's my writer crush, if none of you realized it by now

✦ a bunch of cuties in love by @lavenderspence ↳ hehehehehehe this definitely did not remind me of that one older guy I used to flirt with who had an adorable younger brother that I babysat🤭

✦ schrodinger's cat by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ angst on a Saturday morning is like taking a shot of soju before 11 am, and this one felt like it <3

how about you also comment your top 3 fave fics for this month to spread more love to our great writers?

[reidrum]

the prophecy part 1:

cards on the table, mine played out like fools in a fable | s.r.

A/N: trying something new…..this one’s been on my mind for too long and the angst hurt too good. sorry in advance ! perhaps a part 2 who’s to say ..,,,..,. ?

cw: bau!fem!reader, spoilers for prison arc, implied talks of SA (referring to when lindsey doses spencer in mexico), maeve donovan, just angst bro this doesn’t end well

summary: you and jj accompany spencer to cat’s correctional facility to play her games, except there’s more than one loser

wc: 2.1k

part 2

——————————————————————————

Cat Adams’ taunts and demands have led Spencer, JJ, and you to visit her in her correctional facility to play whatever game she has for him. Emily had you and JJ go with him given his erratic state from just being released, in hopes that you both could regulate and monitor the whole meeting.

You and JJ watch Spencer walk in stoically, sitting down across from Cat as she smiles at him. He angrily demands for his mother’s location, but she gets upset and tells him that he doesn’t get to treat her like a criminal. She only agrees to tell him the location if he plays her game, and figures out the secret she knows about Spencer.

Spencer’s brain works overtime to figure out what he’s missing, what Cat could possibly be holding against him that would make him deny the truth of it. He runs through all the scenarios; Spencer being able to now understand how it feels to have a parent used as a pawn, Cat wanting him to admit his love for her. But she shakes her head and reveals that a clue was left in a scrapbook in Spencer’s apartment.

You remember you took a picture of it when you went with Spencer to scope it out, and pulled it out to show JJ.

“Is that an X and a Y?” She ponders, “What could that mean?”

“I think it’s…” You stop halfway, realizing what it means. Your face drops and you look back in the room to watch Spencer come to the same conclusion.

“We’re pregnant!” Cat sings.

You and JJ look at each other in shock, the blonde’s voice slowly drowning out as you sink further into the Cat shaped hole. You vaguely hear her mention going to the guard to find her medical records, but all you can think about is how she could be bearing Spencer’s child.

Spencer and you had been together for a little over two years now. While still in the relative early stages, a lot about your relationship had been figured out and solidified. It was the most secure you’d ever felt with anyone, and despite the road bumps with Mexico you felt that you both came through it as well as any couple would in that situation.

You loved Spencer, and Spencer loved you. Right now was just another one of those road bumps, just like Mexico. That’s what you needed to tell yourself.

JJ bursts through the door with the medical documents, “I got them.” breaking you out of your spiral. You both anxiously look at the paper to find a little (+) sign ticked next to the pregnant box.

Cat Adams really was pregnant. You think you could be sick, you feel JJ’s hand grip your arm in an attempt to tether you back down, but it’s a futile effort. Your brain has already taken the information and ran a billion different directions with it, each coming up with a more crazy conclusion.

You stare blankly into the interrogation room as Spencer vehemently denies the child being his, denying any such way that it could even be his. The disbelief is ruling his words as he shuts down any theory that gives it truth, until Cat reminds him of the heavy dose he was given in Mexico. It hit him then, if he could barely remember the third person in that room, he had no bearing on whatever else transpired.

Spencer tries not to let the anxiety and shock show on his face as he sits down to face Cat in the eyes, “How did you do it?”

“I gave Lindsey very specific instructions to get you in the mood.”

“She pretend to be you?”

“Why, would that have worked?”

“No.” he says sternly.

She pauses, ego clearly bruised, “Yeah, I know. I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid "Hot or Not" list. I told her to pretend to be Maeve. Maeve Donovan, who had her brains blown out right in front of you before you two could even kiss.”

Spencer’s face falls. No, he thinks, no no no. He looks back at the one way window behind him, knowing very well he can’t see you but you’re watching everything unfold disastrously.

Your heart drops so fast it could have very well been seismic. To your horror, Cat continues.

“I thought about telling her to pretend to be your little BAU girlfriend,” she chuckles, “But then I realized, you only had one love of your life. and you won’t let anyone else measure up.” She leans in closer, “By the way, I know that you still think about Maeve when you’re, you know, with your little crime fighter over there. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She gives an over exaggerated wink to the window.

Spencer feels like he’s seeing white, anger coursing through his body as the reality of his situation comes to a head. He’s definitely not thinking when he pushes the table aside harshly, grabbing Cat by the collar and pushing her against the wall. He’s only able to stop when JJ is beside him suddenly attempting to pull him back, reminding him that she’s pregnant.

His fists are clenched and without a second thought he storms out of the room, his tunnel vision taking him right past you and JJ.

JJ doesn’t know what to do, she looks back into the room to see Cat smirking to herself, and god if she didn’t have morals she’d finish what Spencer started. She thinks it’s wise to go after Spencer and check on him, knowing that Cat’s timer is still ticking and the faster he gets back in there the sooner they can find his mother.

But then she looks at you and suddenly her feet are rooted next to yours.

She lays her hand on your shoulder and gently speaks, “Hey, I’m right here okay?”

You nod mindlessly, hoping you can keep the ocean of tears at bay with whatever resolve you can muster. She squeezes her hand at your acknowledgment and doesn’t move.

How is she supposed to even comfort you? How are you supposed to process this?

You knew how important Maeve Donovan was to Spencer. The whole thing had happened a year before you joined the team, only having heard the story through your teammates. It was tragic, there was no other way to put it, and your heart clenched for Spencer for having to go through that by himself. When you both first started dating, he disclosed the more intimate details to you, wanting nothing to be left unspoken about his past to affect his future with you.

What a cruel twist of fate.

“I—I think,” you stutter, “I have to go, JJ, I can’t be here right now.”

“But—“ She starts.

You cut her off, “No, JJ you have to go talk to Spencer and get him back in there. The longer his mom is with Lindsey…” you trail off.

She nods, understanding that you’re thinking about the priorities right now, “Okay, okay I’ll go find him. Where are you going to go?”

You could go home, the one you share with Spencer. Or you could go back to the office, the one you also share with Spencer.

Every realization adds another needle to your stack, and you’re about to crumble under the weight. “I—I don’t know.” You whimper.

JJ closes her eyes to think quickly and grips your shoulders, “Go back to the BAU okay? I’m going to call Emily and tell her to expect you back, you go straight there, do you understand me?” she emphasizes. JJ is smart enough to know that you cannot be alone right now, and that Spencer wouldn’t be able to scrounge up whatever focus he could into getting answers from Cat if he knew you had left by yourself to god knows where.

All you could do was nod, and hope and pray that your feet would carry you to the car and back to the bureau. JJ was nervous having you drive back, but she really didn’t have a choice. All she could do was notify Emily, as well as Penelope for tracking purposes, that you were headed back, and to not ask you too many questions.

After you left, JJ stood in the waiting room for a brief moment before going to find where Spencer went. She finds him sitting on the floor of an unused interrogation room with his head tucked into his knees.

She speaks quietly to not startle him, “Hey.”

He looks up at the voice, JJ noticing his eyes flit around and behind her as if looking for something, or someone. His eyes sulk back when he’s unable to find it.

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, “Is she—“

“She’s going back to the BAU, Emily knows she’s on the way,” she cuts him off already anticipating his question, “Listen, whatever you’re feeling about what just happened right now has to be paused. You need to focus and finish this stupid game with Cat so we can find your mother and be done with her.” She grits out.

He sighs shakily, he doesn’t even want to think about what must be going through your head. As much as it pained him to experience her vitriol first hand, you were on the other side of that window listening to every word Cat spewed out. And somehow, knowing you watched all of that hurt worse than Mexico, worse than Tobias Hankel, and even worse than Maeve Donovan.

Cat was playing a deeply fucked psychological game with him, and she had now called you in as a pawn. You, his darling girl. The one who made him see the light of the sun after it was constantly being put out, the one who loved him through his mother’s illness and wrongful imprisonment, the one who is, with all and every bit of certainty, the love of his life.

If the velvet black box in his sock drawer was any testament to the power that love held, he hoped it would take mercy on him in this moment.

He stands up and paces the room for a moment before kicking the chair to the other side of the room. JJ startles, her eyes widening but attempting to remain neutral faced as Spencer sorts out his emotions.

“Spence, we need to focus,” she reminds him, “Time is running out.”

“I know,” he mumbles and paces the room hoping to have a stroke of insight, “I have an idea.”

———

You must be no better than a zombie in the final apocalypse when you walk into the bullpen, stumbling around with glassy eyes, no regard for what’s in your way. The apathetic coping mechanism you’ve deployed almost makes you seem as mindless as those monsters, if it weren’t for Penelope to show up and steady you.

“I gotcha, honey,” She makes eye contact with Emily, acknowledging that she’s got you, before turning back to you again, “Come here, let’s sit down.” Penelope sits you down in the nearest chair and drags another one for her to sit right next to you.

You don’t speak for an hour after sitting. Penelope doesn’t ask, only checking in every ten minutes to see if you want a snack or some water, to which you shake your head no every time. She’s too busy typing away on her laptop getting information that could help the team find Spencer’s mother, the last thing you want to be is a bump in the road for them.

Another hour passes before the team exits the conference room, alerting you and Penelope that they think they’ve found the cabin where Diana and Lindsey are. Emily gathers everything they need before approaching you in the bullpen.

“Do I have to be here when you guys come back?” You ask quietly.

Emily sighs, understanding the gravity of your circumstance, “No, you don’t. Will you let Garcia drop you home though? Give us all a peace of mind.” She chuckles humorlessly, unknowingly squeezing the other shoulder JJ didn’t.

You know the ‘all’ she’s referring to really just means one person. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but you don’t think it’s meant to. She brings you in for a tight hug, “I’ll check on you after, okay?”

You nod and release from her embrace. Penelope gathers her things next to you and you both walk to the elevator.

“Honey,” It pained Garcia to see you like this, and she didn’t know how she could help, “What can I do?”

You sniffle and shrug, there isn’t much she can do. There isn’t even much that you could do. Not that anything you could do would be enough, it was never enough. Not for you, not for the team, and not for Spencer.

With a bitter chuckle you answer Penelope’s question,

“Bring back Maeve.”

[igotanidea]

Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

part 4: Stuck

A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3

Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)

***

He felt like a fool.

Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.

Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.

But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?

Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.

“Anthony!”

He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.

Not very gentlemanly of him.

“Anthony!”

He quickened his pace.

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.

Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.

“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.

“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.

“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.

“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “

“If you let me –"

“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "

"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered

"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”

“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”

“Anthony Bridgerton!”

“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”

“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”

“Mother!”

“Do not raise your voice on me son.”

“Apologies…”

“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”

Anthony mumbled something once more.

“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”

“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?

And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.

Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.

And he needed her back.

Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.

“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.

“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”

***

Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.

There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.

Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.

Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.

***

For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 

***

Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.

And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.

Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.

Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.

After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?

***

First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.

Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.

“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.

“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“

“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“

“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.

“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.

“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”

She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.

“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”

“Tha-thank you my lady…”

‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”

“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.

“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.

“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“

“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”

“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”

Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.

And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?

“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks

“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.

“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”

“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”

“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”

“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”

“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”

“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”

“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”

“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”

“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”

“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”

Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.

“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”

“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.

Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable ��� Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.

“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.

“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”

“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement

“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.

“He made a gesture!”

“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”

“Y/N!”

“Y/N?!”

“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”

“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”

“Do not go Y/N!”

“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”

“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”

“Do not go Y/N!”

“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”

“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”

***

Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.

No.

He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.

The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.

For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.

It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.

Too much.

Dear Lord.

Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.

Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.

It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.

He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.

And his family knew and accepted it.

She didn’t.

Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.

And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.

“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.

He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.

“I’m sorry my lord but-“

“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”

“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.

“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”

“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.

“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”

She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.

Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.

Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.

He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.

And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.

He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -

“Anthony.”

Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.

She came.

She truly came.

It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.

Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.

She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.

Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.

“Y/N….”

“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”

“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”

“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”

“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.

“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”

“In what aspect my lord?”

“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.

“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”

“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.

“Anthony I –“

“My love, I am sorry.”

“this is not—”

“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.

“Anthony-“

“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“

“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”

How he felt was not with words.

How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.

I love you.

By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.

I won’t ever let go of you.

By tender caress of her hair and back.

I will always cherish you.

By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.

I am sorry.

She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.

“My love. My beloved.”

She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.

“Am I too much now?” she whispered

“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”

This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?

“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.

“Thank God.”

“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”

“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.

(spoiler alert below)

I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall @bloommart @lorinevv @taylorswars @jessiegerl @glocuseguardian3rd @angiieguevara @laurasdrey @jholiday @smailaway @some-random-stranger-007 @beckahhope @bookishtheaterlover7 @eclecticcollectioncloud @thingfromlove @dutifullyannoyingfox @kitkat14sblog @dancingandreadingwithv @heyits-zedo @superhighschoollevelnerd-blog1 @ben-has-arrived @kindaslightlyacidic @espressopatronum454 @miluiel1 @powellssaturn @jess4rush @krismdavis @yourgirlypop

[milesmoralesluvs]

Cry Baby (I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you breathing) - Ekko x reader

wc: 1k

warnings: mention of blood

ekko x medic!reader

Ekko doesn't remember the exact moment when everything changed between you two. One minute, you were just kids running through the streets of Zaun, stealing glances at each other and dreaming of something better. The next, you were both standing midst of a revolution, both bearing the weight of your choices and responsibilities.

It had always been that way, hadn't it? Both of you carried the pain of Zaun’s broken streets in different ways, and that pain had shaped who you were—who you were meant to be.

“(Y/N),” Ekko whispered, his voice strained from the blood loss. “How did we get here?”

You didn’t answer right away. You finished wrapping his side with gauze and then gently cupped his chin, tilting his face up toward yours. There was no judgment in your eyes, only the kind of quiet understanding that Ekko had never found anywhere else.

“We were always going to end up here,” you said softly. “Those were the shitty cards we were dealt with.”

You were no longer the girl that played in the streets with him. You were the Firelight medic now. Your eyes were laser focused as you worked, hands steady and efficient. Back when you were children, you had patched him up after every scrape, every reckless stunt. Nothing had changed, you were still the one taking care of himself when he couldn't.

“Still think you’re invincible?” you asked, glancing up at him as you cleaned the wound.

“I’m still breathing,” Ekko shot back, but the words felt hollow, more tired than defiant.

You didn’t respond, just continuing to work on him. It was always this way. You’d never say what you really wanted to say, but Ekko knew you too well. There were things between you—things left unsaid—but both of you had been too afraid to voice them. Back then, it was the simple question of whether you’d be able to survive together. Now, it was bigger than that. Now, it was about whether if you guys could still see each other as more than the people you had been, more than the roles you both were now trapped in.

Ekko met your eyes, his chest tight. “I don’t know if I can fix this. Everything’s falling apart, (Y/N), I keep trying, but it’s never enough.”

You finished cleaning the wound, your hands pausing as you looked up at him. The same intensity you had always carried was still there, but now it was mixed with something else—something softer, something more fragile.

“You’re not supposed to fix everything,” you said quietly. “You’re just supposed to keep going. We all are.”

There was a pause, and for a fleeting moment, Ekko saw the girl he had known all his life. The girl who had bandaged his scraped knees, who had silently supported him with his creations. The girl who had always believed in something better for them, for Zaun.

“And what if I don’t know how?” he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice something he hadn’t allowed anyone to hear in years.

You set down your medical tools and stepped closer to him. You took his hand, your fingers warm against his cold skin. For a moment, he felt a wave of emotions crash over him—memories of their childhood, of simpler times, of a connection that had always been there but was buried beneath the chaos of their lives.

“You don’t have to know how, Ekko,” you said softly, your voice just for him. “You just have to keep trying.”

You took a seat beside him on the tiny bed, bodies squished together, shoulders pressing. You hesitated for a moment before leaning your head against his.

“You’re not the Boy Savior or the leader of the firelights when you're with me. You’re just Ekko, the boy who always offered me the last bite of his food, the tastiest part. The boy who indulged in my every stupid theory about aliens. The boy who always managed to pull a reckless stunt and inevitably end up injured and me having to patch you up.”

You fiddled with the ends of your skirt. “You still do. All of that.”

He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “Your aliens theories are very interesting.”

You smiled at him softly. He mirrored a similar one of his own.

Ekko looked at you then, really looked at you. And in that moment, something shifted—something he hadn’t expected but had always hoped for. He wasn’t sure where this path would lead them, but he knew one thing for certain: you was still here, still standing by his side.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this without you,” he said, his voice low, vulnerable.

You smiled, gently flicking his forehead before cupping his face to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. ‘You dont have to, silly. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you ever.”

For a long moment, you simply stayed there, the weight of everything you both had endured settling between, unspoken. You didn’t need to say more. Not yet. There was time.

[cherrybr4t]

hoshi as your boyfriend (+18)

(sfw + nsfw)

warnings: first half is all FLUFF <3 nsfw part included too! dancer!hoshi, dancer!reader, fem reader, unprotected sex 😔, public sex, creampie, mirror sex, orgasm denial + edging, they r in luv! <3

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s the school’s infamous dance captain, while you’re a member of the dance club. that’s how the both of you met.

boyfriend!soonyoung who was known to be a dynamic ball of energy, but with you — he was so shy initially. thought you were too pretty to approach, thought you looked out of reach. took him a while to be able to be friends with you.

boyfriend!soonyoung finally had the balls to confess to you after working on a dance project with you for 2 months. impulsive 2am thoughts and a slip of the tongue while the both of you were slurping down cup noodles after practice.

“—so yeah jihoon wouldn’t stop making fun of me, especially about my crush on you and—”

“what?”

“…what did i say?”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s superrr clingy. even if it’s a separate practice session for team projects within the dance club, he’s gonna be at yours. sitting at the back, the front, beside the mirrors — wherever. (and it makes the juniors/other members nervous as HELL)

boyfriend!soonyoung who gets pouty when you tell him not to show up all the time — “it intimidates the rest!” but he promises to not be noticed the next time; cue him going to your next practice in a ball cap and mask, sitting at the back corner.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always willing to help and guide you patiently. (though he is always impatient and scary with the other team members) with you though — he can never lose his temper at you. every mistake you make causes him to giggle like you’re the cutest thing ever.

“you’re so cute baby,”

you pout “i’m sorry baby… i can’t seem to get this even though i’ve done it like - 20 times.”

“it’s okay baby, you’re doing so well. doing better than dino even.”

you tilt your head…”that’s impossible”

“i’ll happily watch you practice it a 100 times angel,”

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s your biggest supporter. he’s your biggest fan. after every performance, he never fails to gift you the biggest & most dramatic bouquet of flowers with a little tiger plushie in the middle. with the longest heartfelt letter sealed in a tiger print envelope.

boyfriend!soonyoung who feels so lucky to have you. because if you think he’s dramatic? you’re even MORE dramatic. customised tiger gifts for him, an even bigger bouquet of flowers for him, and the cutest love letter he has pinned on his board at home.

boyfriend!soonyoung who is always your biggest defender. anytime he hears people talking shit about you — he’s immediate to thrash things out with them. always reminds people how hardworking you are, and loves to talk about you to everyone he knows.

“she’s the prettiest, kindest, purest soul i’ve ever met. and have you seen her dance? swear she’s better than me.”

“she’s the best. i don’t know how i got so lucky to love someone like her.”

boyfriend!soonyoung who loves using not only words of affirmation, he loves his quality time with you, he loves feeling your touch all the time, and he’s the best at acts of service.

“i love you baby. i’ll never get tired of telling you how amazing you are. i’m so happy we got to exist in the same universe timeline, like—” *him rambling and getting distracted by the theories about different universe timelines*

*him always planning the most thought out dates — full day itinerary; at the zoo, pottery dates, etc. but he loves spending his down time with you too — sitting at home, putting on animal print face masks together, doing feet baths together.*

he always needs to hold your hand — doesn’t want to lose you in the crowd (though the crowd on tuesdays at the mall seems to be…bleak). hugs with him lasts at least 10 minutes at a time, and naps with him end up with him hugging you like a koala bear on a tree.

hungry at 2am? he’s at your door within 15 with your favourite late night snack. on your period? he’s got a full care pack covered. late for class? he’s already sitting in your lecture hall; attendance marked for you, taking down notes for you.

nsfw version here!

boyfriend!soonyoung who found out he had a thing for exhibitionism one night while the both of you were practicing late in the dance studio.

you were practicing your moves, concentration at a 100% while looking at yourself in the mirror. and he couldn’t help but feel a little turned out by how hard you were dancing. sweaty, flushed and so so pretty.

the song switches — and you snap your head towards soonyoung. he walks towards you in beat with the sensual song, before wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“follow my guide baby,” he sways, holding onto you so tight. he traces your arms, interlocking both hands with you — flowing with the music while his eyes never left yours in the mirror.

“you’re so sexy baby. love the way you move,” he breathes down your neck, eyes shutting for less than a second before he focuses on you again.

you hum, hips moving against his crotch as you feel yourself get heated up as the song progresses. “learned it all from you baby,” your giggle snaps him out of his deep reverie.

“getting bold now are we?”

boyfriend!soonyoung loves how you’re always down to explore new boundaries with him. he knows the deep trust goes both ways, and he’s grateful.

boyfriend!soonyoung loves when you get all needy for him. it’s usually him being all clingy and like a baby when it comes to you. you’re his safe space. so when he sees you being all wide eyed and desperate for him — it turns him on to no end.

he’s a menace. when it comes to fucking you, he’s double the menace. gets off on you being his needy little angel. no one would ever guess what goes on behind closed doors when it comes to him.

he’s edged you for the past 30 minutes, your juices tainting the dance floor that’s only seen blood sweat and tears of the dancers. his smile is sinister, is relishing in the fact that he’s holding the key to your heaven gates at the moment.

loves to have you in front of him sitting right in front of the mirror. the big and wide mirror capturing the indecent act. your legs wide open for him as his fingers alternate between rubbing messily and harshly on your clit, and plunging deep into your his cunt.

wants you to come undone on his fingers and torture alone.

but he’s selfish, only wants to achieve what he’d set to do so earlier. and it’s for you to cum on his cock. he sits on the floor with his pretty cock out in the open, and has you in the same position, except now you’re sitting on his cock — deep inside you. all still facing the mirror where his gaze is locked on every move you make.

“that’s it baby, ride my cock like you fucking mean it yeah?”

“training you to have strong legs baby, you need them to continue to dance amazingly right?”

you cry out at the overstimulation, you want nothing but to cum. every hit his cock makes chokes you and you don’t recognise the girl in the mirror anymore — so wrecked on your boyfriend’s cock.

“tell me what you need pretty girl,” soonyoung teases as he leans back on his hands, enjoying the view in the mirror, hiding how fucked out he feels. how he is so close to cumming right inside of you this very moment. but he’s holding back. he’s got better control than that anyways.

“need to—need to cum nowww soonie, please baby,” tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you continue to ride him, pace faltering as you feel your legs getting tired.

“if you can cum like that, be my guest baby. cum.” he shrugs, and you notice the glint in his devilish gaze through the mirror. you groan, legs giving out on you and you resort to grinding slowly.

“need you to—need you to help me,” you pout, if acting cute won’t get you what you want, you don’t know what else to try.

“baby needs my help? can’t cum on her own? aw baby.” he pouts back at you, and you want so badly to snap at him at his tone but you know better than to do so.

“on your knees, face the mirror. won’t tell you twice.” and all energy resurfaces as you scurry to go on all fours, looking at how desperate you appear through the mirror — your reflection mocking you.

soonyoung grunts in approval. slides his cock right back into you, and thanks the heavens for you. for being able to take you like this. swears you look like an angel even being so fucked out on the dance floor, back being blown out.

“so fucking pretty like this baby, how do you always look so fucking beautiful,” he snaps his hips so deep into you with a certain tempo, and you feel like you’re ascending to heaven each time he fucks his cock into you.

his fingers reach forward to smack your puffy clit, using the tip of his fingers to rub messily, finally deciding to let his angel cum.

“c-can’t—gonna cum—i’m gonna cum gonna cum” you cry out with a hoarse throat with actual tears running down your flushed cheeks this time. your hands reach back to grab onto his biceps, nails plunging in, and it drives him crazy.

“you can cum baby, cum on your fucking cock—cream it baby let me feel you—” you clench around him so tight he lets out a string of ‘fucks’. you fall forward, face flat — cheeks pressed on the dance floor, letting your body do the job of releasing the past hour of edging. all tension let loose, you moan out his name so beautifully as you cream and choke his cock with your cunt.

“fuck fuck fuck baby, gonna cum too. gonna cum inside you pretty, fuuuuuck—” his grip on your hips tighten as he releases his creamy load inside of you. airy moans leaving his chest as he lets his cock paint your cunt as his.

he slows down his thrusts, letting the mixture of your releases mix together slowly. you both slowly relish in the moment of your bodies connecting, feeling nothing but love left.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s always taking care of you — including after care! loves praising you non stop, leaving trails of kisses everywhere. post-nut clarity hits differently for him — where he always tells himself that he wants to be yours forever.

boyfriend!soonyoung who’s not only the best boyfriend, the best lover but also your best friend and the one person you’re most thankful for in the world ! <3

a/n: haha…was in a hoshi mood…<3 GAH. i hope u guys liked it ! typed this all in one go while thinking abt hoshi n him being the bestest boy ever.

[draconic-desire]

🔹 Oculus Infinitum 🔹

Yandere Satoru Gojo x Reader

He’s infinity; in comparison, you’re nothing. So of course using your cursed technique on him backfires.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI! Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship, implied kidnapping, forced imprisonment, nsfw, non-con/dub-con, afab!reader, slight mindbreak

Infinity is often interpreted as the largest numerical magnitude to exist. And while that fact may be true in theory, infinity is better defined as the endless division of infinitesimally smaller and smaller values. One can be separated into half, half to a quarter, and so on, until the space between fractions almost ceases to exist.

Almost.

Gojo is a lot like infinity. Blame it on his technique, sure, but you suspect it runs much deeper than that. His actions never reach an end; instead, each one sinks further and further into your skin, fangs so small you barely feel them until it’s too late and the venom irreversibly invades your veins. He’s chipped away at you, piece by little piece, until you are the opposite of infinity; you are nothing.

On a surface level, most would say you have it pretty good. You (are trapped in) live in a huge home, filled with opulent furniture and all the luxuries you could ever want. You’re (expected to) allowed to cook meals for the two of you, including your favorite dishes. You still have (basic rights) privileges, such as free roam of the house, your own selection of clothes, access to the television and your phone (minus the ability to call or text, of course), even outdoor time with Satoru’s supervision. Why would you ever need to leave?

You had escaped, once.

Calling it an escape would be generous. Nothing ever happens without Gojo’s knowledge, without Gojo’s permission. How foolish you had been, to think you could evade his Six Eyes. Despite weeks of planning, he’d dragged you back home within the hour.

The chains hadn’t been removed for an entire month after that, and their lingering presence on each post of Satoru’s bed serves as a constant reminder that they’ll never rust.

Currently, you’re in the (not your, nothing is ever truly yours anymore) house’s lofty kitchen now, preparing dinner for his return home from work. Glancing up at the clock, you see it’s nearly time for him to arrive. You click the stovetop on and place a pot of water over the open flame, watching the blue fire flicker. Your thoughts immediately go to Gojo’s eyes, twin infernos of endless blue. Those eyes never seem to close, never seem to be too far from your own. They have the ability to lock you in place and throw away the key forever.

Moments later, the sound of the door opening and closing, along with the click of multiple locks, echoes from the hallway. Long, casual footsteps alert you to his presence behind you. His velvet voice, so languid and carefree, fans your ear as he settles his hands on your hips. “There’s my girl. Already making dinner for me?” He places a surprisingly chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Missed ya, baby.”

You add rice and a bit of salt and stir the pot in front of you in silence. When did you stop fighting him on that? On losing your full name to simple titles like girl and baby? The old you would have gagged at those pet names. The old you that kicked and bit the hand of your captor like a rabid animal, always fighting for freedom.

His grip tightens when you fail to immediately respond, though you hear him force a light tone to his voice. “What, curse got your tongue?”

Tension immediately floods your muscles. Gojo is a vain man; your silence maims his huge ego, something the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer will not stand for. You must react. “No, Gojo. I was just lost in thought, is all.”

You worry your lip when the quiet drags on. “I-I’m sorry?”

Gojo barks out a laugh, but his smile is strained and all fangs. “Back to Gojo again, huh?”

A mistake you notice too late. The spoon falls from your grip as you turn your head slowly. He’s still wearing his blindfold, but you know those infinite abyssal eyes are currently boring into your soul, daring you to speak. “Ah, no! Satoru, I mean—”

“Shh, baby. I get it.” His hands move to your shoulders, which he begins to massage. “Is it because you’re mad at me for neglecting you?”

To an outsider it may sound like he’s teasing, but you know all too well the creep of annoyance laced into his deepened, husky tone. “Or are you just being a brat?”

Swallowing, you place a hand on his toned forearm in an attempt to calm him. You feel him practically melt into the touch. “Truly, ‘Toru, I’m fine.” Your honeyed tone makes you sick, but you’ve learned it can subtly manipulate your captor in the right setting, usually this domestic fantasy world of his. “You’ve been so busy with work, and my mind has just been wandering. Why don’t you go sit while I finish up with the food?”

He hums absentmindedly, fingers swirling patterns across your abdomen. “I have a better idea…” Hot breath caresses your ear, eliciting a shiver. “Let me make it up to you.”

A deft hand snakes its way down the back of your bare thigh, barely ghosting across your skin. You can feel him, solid as a rock, yet you know there will always be space between you. He can touch you, but you’re powerless to do the same.

Just like in everything else, you can’t hold a candle to him. Your cursed energy is inconsequential, a tiny spark against his infinitive well of power.

Talk of your innate cursed ability is a topic you actively choose to avoid. Your technique, when activated, allows you to briefly control the thoughts and consequent actions of a single individual—but only after you’ve kissed them. And it often backfires tremendously, with the kiss causing overwhelming feelings of obsession or insanity in the receiver. From more than enough uses you’ve learned to see it as more of a curse in and of itself, and one you prefer to keep hidden.

Especially from the man behind you. Gojo—Satoru, you correct yourself—has enough twisted love that you wouldn’t dare try to possess his thoughts. The mere idea makes your throat tighten with panic.

Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, causes every nerve ending along your skin to explode as his hand falls beneath your skirt and skate across your barely clothed core.

“Been thinking about this all day,” he groans. “Are you wet for me, baby?” Before you can respond, Satoru easily moves your panties aside and spears you with his middle and ring fingers.

The invasion makes you jolt instantly. An involuntary gasp leaves you as he presses deeper, his fingers sheathed to the knuckle. You hate how your walls immediately tighten around him, slick with your arousal. No, you don’t want this, but Gojo gives you no choice in the matter but to practically ride his hand as he lifts your skirt with his other hand to get a better view.

“I’ll never get tired of this.” His thumb passes over your clit, pulling yet another shameful moan from your lips. Your tense demeanor only causes your pussy to accidentally squeeze him tighter, spurring him on. You try to pull your thighs together, but Satoru wrenches them apart easily with his other hand. “Oh, no, none of that. This pussy is mine.”

You squirm, grasping for something to get you out of this mess. “Satoru, stop, the food will burn—”

“Forget it,” he commands, ripping your skirt off. “We’ll order takeout after.”

Your heart drops. “After…?”

“Aw, you thought I’d stop here?” His condescension floods your ears. “No, babe, I’m only just getting started with you.”

His persistence, like infinity, has no end.

Without warning, Satoru removes his fingers from your core and swings you over his shoulder, smacking your bare ass and wrenching a yelp from you. You blanch when you realize he’s carrying you to the bedroom.

“Wait, Satoru—!”

You are unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, said white-haired sorcerer towering above you. He pounces immediately, locking your limbs in place. Satoru must see the fear, the readiness to engage in fight or flight, across your face, because he brushes a tender hand across your cheek to wipe away a tear you didn’t realize had fallen.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he teases, but it somehow sounds like a threat. His fingers, still coated with your arousal, hook around your thong and slide it down your legs. “You’re acting like this is our first time or somethin'.”

Oh, it was far from the first time that he had touched you or been inside of you. But something about today, about this time, sends fear skittering across your whole being. Perhaps it’s all the reminiscence lately, or the fact that your thoughts drifted to your innate technique for the first time in weeks. Panic sinks its claws into you.

Breath ragged, heart pounding, you grab his face in both hands and react without thinking; for the first time since he kidnapped you, you willingly kiss Satoru Gojo and activate your technique.

Satoru immediately reacts, deepening the kiss and pressing you more firmly into the mattress until you feel as if you’re nearly suffocating.

Release me, you project into his mind, threading a hand through his white locks and squeezing hard.

The world suddenly goes very, very still.

Satoru freezes. Slowly, painfully, he parts his lips from your own and straightens his arms against the mattress to hover above you once more. His breath comes out in jagged huffs. The only sound that remains is the unending tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall, bringing you closer to your doom.

For a second, you almost believe your technique worked.

That is, until he quickly sheds his blindfold, and you are meet with those stunning, terrifying, brilliant, paralyzing blues. He whispers your name with a foreign stillness that chills your bones to ice. “Do you…have a cursed technique?”

What an idiot you are to have thought you could sneak past Satoru Gojo’s barriers and Six Eyes. You can’t touch his physical form; why would his mind be any different?

It takes all of your willpower to withhold the panicked, hysterical laugh threatening to escape you. “Look, I can explain—”

Satoru leans back on his knees, one hand carding through his hair as he looks up to the ceiling. “God, babe, I knew you could see curses and harbored cursed energy, but here you go surprising me!” He laughs, a gleeful chuckle that has you reeling.

“You’re not…mad?” you dare to ask, inching your knees towards your chest. Maybe your technique failed, but you can still buy some time and get into a safer position.

Satoru gazes down at you, head tilted and a full grin on his lips. “Mad? Baby, why would I be upset when for the first time in our relationship, you were the one seducing me?”

Oh, no. No no no no no.

Grabbing your ankle, he drags you back to a supine position, your pussy on full display for him. He licks his lips at the sight. “Plus, you trying to get inside my head was cute and all. Weak, but you gave it your best!” He laughs again, and you realize that he never took you seriously, not even for a second.

The thought should enrage you—it would have infuriated the old you—but all you can manage now is a low whine as his hands go for his belt.

Satoru pulls himself free, his already hard cock pulsing in anticipation. Precum beads at the tip as he lines himself up with your entrance. “What was it you asked me for? Release, right?”

Your eyes bulge at his implication. “Wait, Satoru, I didn’t mean—!”

You barely have time to react as he buries himself in you completely. A choked sob bubbles up your throat as you breath through the stretch of him.

Satoru moans in ecstasy as he begins a steady pace, thrusting mercilessly into that squishy spot deep inside your core that has you seeing stars.

“Kiss me again.” It’s light and breathless, but it’s an order, not a request. Fear makes you comply immediately, though your kiss is a hesitant, timid thing compared to your earlier attempt to sway him.

He’s having none of that. No, Satoru had a taste of your affection, and now he’ll tolerate nothing less than your full reciprocation. If only you could truly peer into his mind and see that no amount of your cursed energy would change him; your being was already permanently imprinted on his brain. You were his perfect doll, held in the palm of his hand.

Nails rake down his back as you arch against the mattress. Every time he thrusts, he grinds against your clit, and you feel yourself chasing your finish. You hate this, you want it to stop, but you can’t help—

“Please, Satoru,” you plead without thinking, meeting his limitless eyes. You feel yourself drowning in them, a blue sky that never ceases.

For a split second, his rhythm hesitates. “…Say that again,” he whispers, almost reverently. “Beg for me.”

You’re not quite sure what you’re asking for. “P-please, I can’t take it anymore, please let me—!”

“Choose your next word carefully,” he warns, voice shifting to a low growl as his hand moves to your throat, adding ever so much pressure.

Tears streak your vision. The embarrassment of your technique failing and the lewd position he has you in all crash down upon you, and another piece of you breaks. “Please let me cum,” you concede.

To your dismay, his pace slows, and you cry out in protest as your orgasm fades. “I just need you to do one more thing for me, baby.” He leans into your neck, nipping and sucking at all your sensitive spots, torturing you even further. “Tell me you love me.”

Alarms should be blazing through your head, but the fog of your arousal clouds your judgement as you seek your climax.

That piece of your soul he took shatters into a million shards as you whisper, “I love you, Satoru.”

The two of you shatter simultaneously. You register all too late the warmth invading your core as Satoru pumps his cum deep inside you.

He’s never come in you before.

Your name is murmured over and over like a prayer against your neck—or maybe it’s a curse. You jolt in overstimulation when he pulls out and bends down to place a kiss against your puffy folds. “So good for me, baby. This perfect pussy belongs to me.”

He kisses you a final time, long and slow. When he pulls away, a languid smile sweeps across his features. “You’re all mine, (Y/n). Even your mind.”

With the use of your innate technique, you’ve dug your own grave for good. Satoru will never let you go now.

After all, infinity is indivisible.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! I’ve been wanting to request to you for while bc I love your writing so much but I’m not used to requesting so idk 😭

Ok so I LOVE the way you write for wolfstar x reader. I was wondering if you could write smth where reader gets drunk (or just tipsy) and, bc of the alcohol, she gets more confident and starts being super verbally affectionate when she normally isn’t. It’s not that she’s shy but she just isn’t really a verbally affectionate person.

Thank you lovely!

cw: alcohol, inebriation

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“You don’t just casually brush a customer’s hand unless you’re hitting on them!” Sirius insists as he jimmies his key in the front door. “And right in front of us, too. The gall!” 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” He can practically hear Remus’ eyes rolling. “He wasn’t hitting on me.” 

“Our angel and I didn’t get felt up when he gave us our drinks.” 

Something suspiciously giggle-esque comes out of Remus. “He didn’t feel me up!” 

“I think you just don’t understand how handsome you are,” you say in a voice made of dandelion fluff, soft and light and pure. “People like you more than you realize. It’s sort of sweet how you don’t notice, though.” 

The lock finally gives. Sirius opens the door gallantly, allowing you and Remus to spill inside first. You’re clinging to your boyfriend like moss to a tree, and Sirius is endlessly grateful for Remus’ physical stability even in inebriation so that he doesn’t have to support the both of you himself. 

Sirius never sets out to be the most sober at the end of the night, but Remus only had as many drinks as Sirius and has somehow ended up twice as tipsy. Sirius’ theory: the bartender took a liking to him and poured him doubles as a token of his affection. Considering Remus’ tall frame, Welsh origins, and the fact that he’s been able to drink Sirius under the table since they were fifteen, this seems the only reasonable explanation. 

“Me?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised, a bit of bashfulness creeping into his tone. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “Remember that barista last week? She liked you, too, but you couldn’t tell then either.” 

“She liked me because I had a simple order.” 

You shake your head, smiling up at him all soft and adoring. “No, she liked you because you’re lovely.” You reach up, tracing the lines of one of his scars with your fingertip. “Very, very lovely.” 

Sirius is inclined to agree, even as Remus’ face goes a very, very lovely rosy hue. You’re in rare form tonight, honey-tongued and expressive in ways you’re usually not inclined to. You’ve been overflowing with declarations of love and sweetness since you all left the bar. 

“Do you want something to drink, my loves?” Sirius asks as Remus tries to collapse to the floor as carefully as he can so that he can take his shoes off with you stuck to his side. 

“Awe, Siri,” you turn to him with a look of wonder, “are you gonna make sure we’re fed and watered?” 

Sirius can’t help himself. He crouches beside you, slotting his hand alongside your face. You’re positively moony-eyed. 

“I sure am, sweetness. Is that okay with you?” 

You nod, rubbing your cheek against his palm. “I love you when you take care of us. I mean,” you get very serious, “I love you all of the time. It’s not conditional, just, this is a bit extra.” 

Sirius is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Noted,” he tells you. 

You continue to look at him with that sweet, dreamy expression, and Sirius realizes you’ve likely forgotten he ever asked you a question. He’d be content to do this with you all night, except the only thing that sounds better than sitting here holding your face is getting to hold both you and Remus once he gets you both in bed. 

Also, now your boyfriend is watching the two of you with a lovelorn expression, clearly feeling left out, and Sirius can’t have that. 

“Do you want some water, darling?” he asks him. 

Remus’ cheeks pinken again at being caught. “I wouldn’t mind some. I can get it.” 

“No, you say here.” Sirius stands, setting a fond hand atop his boyfriend’s head. “Why don’t you two take your shoes off, and I’ll bring it to you.” 

Sirius can hear you and Remus whispering and giggling to each other from the kitchen. Your voices intertwine in a sweet, steady susurrus, as much as part of your home as the hum of the refrigerator or the creaking of the pipes. When Sirius comes back with a cup for each of you, you’ve waylaid Remus on the floor, your torso half atop his and his hands cupping your face. You’re both smiling tenderheartedly. One of your shoes is still on, the clasp undone. Sirius sits by your feet.

“My lovely dovely,” Remus is murmuring, sozzled, squishing your face between his hands. You look nearly ready to melt into a puddle on their floor when you feel Sirius pulling off your remaining shoe and look back at him. 

“Sirius.” You appear delighted to see him. “Did you have a fun time tonight?” 

He presses cups of water into both of your hands. You sit up to drink yours, whereas Remus tips the cup half on his face when he tries to drink it lying down. 

“I did,” Sirius replies. He clasps Remus’ hand to help him up, and the other boy lets him. “Did you?” 

Remus runs his fingers up the length of Sirius’ forearm. “Did you really?” he asks. There’s a small divot of worry between his brows.

Sirius frowns. He leans forward, kissing it away. “Of course I did, lovely. Why are you asking?” 

“We were just saying,” you answer for him, “that we hope you did still have a good time, even though now you have to look after us.” 

A little laugh puffs out of Sirius, relieved. “Oh. Well you’ve got nothing to worry about there, yeah? I love looking after you.”

You glance at Remus, smiling. “That’s what I said.” 

“Next time,” Remus says somberly, “you can get as drunk as you like, and we’ll bring you home and feed you water.” 

“And massage your back,” you add. “And give you cuddles, if you like.” 

“I like the sound of that very much,” Sirius agrees. “Is this your way of telling me you’d like back massages and cuddles?” 

You smile at him dopily. “I love you,” you say. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I love you too. Alright, you win. Back massages and cuddles if you both finish your waters and get in bed.” 

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Book Club

modern!aemond x fem!reader 

Summary: A man comes into your book store and you both exchange book recommendations. This turns into you both having discussions about your thoughts and theories and feelings begin to blossom. 

Warnings: 18+ swearing, oral(f), p in v, unprotected 

Authors Note: i literally have to restrain myself from writing for this man bc im actually rabid :)

Word Count: 6.6k oops 

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I groan resting against the counter watching all of the people walk past my shop. This is the slowest time of day so I resort to curling up in the chair near the windows and pulling out my current read. The soft music through the speakers helps set the mood and soon I’m immersed into my book. I look up when the bell on the door rings. 

“Hi, welcome in.” I close my book and rise from the chair. “Is there anything I can help you with?” I offer him a smile as my eyes meet his. 

“No, thank you.” his voice soft as he brushes past me. 

“Let me know if that changes.” I call after him as he delves deeper into the store. I bring my book to the counter and begin to read. I lean over the counter as I get to a particularly tense part and let the store drift away. I gasp at the sentence I just read and shove my bookmark into the pages and shut the book. 

“That’s how you can tell it’s a good book.” I jump at the man’s words. 

“I’m sorry.” I look up to him with flushed cheeks. “You could’ve said something.” I move the book off the side. 

“I knew what part you were at and it’s best left uninterrupted.” he offers me a smile that softens his sharp features. 

“You’ve read this one?” I beam. “This is the first book I’ve read by this author and I’m thoroughly enjoying it.” he places his books on the counter. 

“I can recommend some others too. If you want.” he offers and I nod my head. I get out a pen and paper and slide them over to him. I watch as he scribbles out a couple titles and pushes it back to me. I pull out another sheet and write some of my own recommendations. 

“If you want them. You don’t have to but I thought I’d give you some recommendations as well.” I nibble my lip and he folds the paper and places it in his pocket. 

“Thank you.” he offers me another smile that turns him into every male fantasy I’ve ever had. 

“Did you find everything alright?” I hum as I start to ring up his books trying to avoid staring at him for too long.

“I did. It’s a lovely shop.” he nods to me as his eye scans me over.

“Thank you. I try to keep it warm and welcoming.” I place his books in a bag and offer it to him. 

“Is it yours?” he offers me cash. 

“It is.” I smile typing into the register. 

“Then I will see you here when I need another book.” he hums taking the change from my hand. 

“I can’t wait to hear what you think of the books.” I smile to him before pulling my book back out. 

“Likewise.” he nods before dipping out the door and leaving me to my book once more. 

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I shake my head shutting my book and slamming it on the table. That was simultaneously one of the best and worst endings to a book I’ve ever read. I look through my aisles searching for the next book on the list when I hear the bell on the door jingle. 

“Hi, welcome in how-“ I stop when I see it’s him. “Gods I just finished the first book you recommended. The ending was just..” I trail off shaking my head. 

“I didn’t think you would actually read them.” he squints his eye with a hint of a smile. 

“I was just looking for the second book on the list.” I smile up at him as I start to walk back to the aisles. I turn and see that he’s following behind me with a smile as we stop and look for the title. 

“I can borrow you mine. Although I guess you do own a bookstore..” he trails off pulling the book down from the top shelf. “Here.” he offers it to me. 

“You can bring me the third one on here.” I pull the list out of my pocket. “I can bring you one of mine. If you want.” I flip through the pages of the book I’m holding. 

“I would like that. When do you want me to bring it?” his smile brightens up his whole face. 

“I’ll probably be done with this before the end of the week.” I look at the page numbers and nod my head. 

“Then I’ll come on Friday?” he tilts his head. 

“That’s perfect.” I smile. “If you have time can I make you coffee or tea and we could discuss the book I just finished? I’m dying to talk about it.” I nibble my lip studying him. 

“I would like that.” he hums. “Tea would be nice.” I wave him over to the chairs as I begin to prepare his drink. I steal glances at his perfectly groomed long silver hair and internally sigh at how beautiful he is. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your day.” I turn back to him and he shakes his head. 

“I had no plans besides coming here.” his words make me feel like less of a burden. I bring him his tea and I sit with my cup and we start talking. We talk for well over an hour and our cups are soon forgotten and turn cold. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it.” he rests his head in his hand watching me talk. 

“I’ll stop and let you get back to your day.” I stretch my legs out from the chair. 

“Point me in the direction of the first book on the list you gave me.” he prompts me and I stand with a smile. 

“Of course, this way.” I nod for him to follow. I stop at a shelf and I pull the book down. I hold it against my chest and turn to look up at him. I see his knowing smile and sigh. 

“And what kind of romance book will this be?” he holds his hand out and I feel my cheeks heat. 

“A good one.” I purse my lips flaring my nostrils. 

“I’ll decide that.” he chuckles grabbing the book from my hands. 

“It’s not just a romance book. Just give it a try.” I pout before brushing past him. “I’ll be up front when you’re ready or if you need any other help.” 

“Can you find me the other two on your list?” I stop in my tracks at his words. 

“But I was gunna bring you them?” I scrunch my eyebrows turning to him. 

“You’ve already read two of mine so I need to catch up. At least let me buy the second one too.” he smiles. “I want to be able to talk about them on Friday.” a smile spreads across my face at his words. I lead him down a couple of aisles and pull a book from the shelf. 

“I really enjoyed reading this one and I can’t wait to hear what you think about it.” I admire the cover and hand it to him. 

“I’ll come with all of my thoughts and theories.” he hums and follows me back to the register. “When and where do you want me to meet you?” he places the books on the counter. 

“Here at like seven?” I ring in his books and look to him. 

“I’ll be here.” he nods his head. “I never got your name.” he hands me cash and I realize I haven’t gotten his name either. 

“Y/n.” I place his change in his hand. 

“Aemond.” he smiles grabbing his books from the counter. 

“I hope you enjoy the books, Aemond.” he looks at me with a soft smile. 

“I’ll see you Friday, Y/n.” he nods his head and slips out the door. 

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I quickly walk around the store cleaning up after close and start to brew some tea. I don’t know if I should’ve brought something more or if this is enough. I sigh shaking my head and sit in the chair to wait for Aemond to arrive. I stand up with a smile spread across my face when he walks through the door. 

“Aemond.” I beam and usher him inside before I shut and lock the door behind him. I can’t help but look over him and admire him as he strides into the store. 

“Locking us in?” he turns and raises an eyebrow at me. 

“Well the stores closed and I don’t want us to be interrupted.” I walk over to the table and begin to make him a cup of tea. I bring it over to him with a smile that he’s already sitting and comfortable with the books in his lap. “It’s like we’re having a little book club.” I coo placing the cup in his hands and see his cheeks redden. 

“How was your week?” he hums before taking a sip. 

“I had another great book to get me through.” I curl up in the chair across from him. 

“You liked it?” his eye lights up as I nod to him. 

“It was perfect. I think I liked this one more than the last.” I settle back into the chair and study him. 

“What was your favorite part?” he watches me talk about the book for the next thirty minutes with a soft smile on his face. He asks me questions, content to listen to me talk about the book. We discuss theories and I decide I could sit in this chair and listen to his soft voice for hours. 

“Do you want more tea before we start with your books?” I start to uncurl from the chair. 

“Let me.” he hums getting up and grabbing my cup from my hands. 

“Thank you.” I smile up at him as I settle back. He brings me my cup filled and steaming with tea. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring more. Like food or other drinks.” I nibble my lip allowing my hands to hug the warmth from the mug. 

“Your company is enough.” my eyes look to his as a blush creeps up my neck. 

“Tell me what you thought of the first one.” I offer him a shy smile. 

“It wasn’t just a romance, you were right.” he talks about the book with a smile and I watch him talk. His features are relaxed as he talks and I can’t help but admire him. I sip on my tea and nod my head at his words. 

“You’re very thoughtful.” he studies me with a curious expression.

“I really did like the second one too.” he picks up the book. “Different than what I expected.” he pats the book on his lap. We go back and forth about the characters and what we think their true motives were. We watch each other in silence for seconds or minutes before he hands me the other book in his lap. 

“Here’s mine.” I stretch across handing him mine. 

“I’ll treat it with care.” he hums adding it to his pile. 

“I really enjoyed my night.” I smile watching him run his fingers down the spine of the book. 

“I did too. When do you want to meet again? If you want to, of course.” his eye looks away from me. 

“I would love that.” I respond quickly nodding my head. “We can meet here again if you want. I can bring us actual food and drinks.” I tilt my head. 

“Or you could come to mine and I could cook for us.” he offers and I chuckle. “Hm?” he smiles at me. 

“Of course you cook.” I look up shaking my head. 

“Is that a bad thing?” he scrunches his brows. 

“No, you’re just perfect.” I sigh and he chuckles. 

“I’m not.” he shakes his head. 

“From what I know, you are.” I hold his book in my lap. “I would enjoy it if you cooked me dinner while we talked about books.” I nibble on my lip. 

“Tell me when.” he leans back looking me over. 

“I could have this finished in three days.” I size up the book. 

“So Monday?” I nod. “What time do you want me to pick you up?” 

“Around seven again? Unless that’s too late?” I start to stretch out my legs. 

“I’ll be here at seven.” he smiles standing up. “Have a good weekend, Y/n.” he starts to walk to the door. 

“Enjoy the book, Aem.” I call after him and he pauses at the door. I get worried about the nickname I gave him until I see his shoulders relax and he turns back to me and offers me a smile before leaving.

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“You’re early.” I look up when I see Aemond enter. My tongue darts across my lips as I take him in and he offers me a smirk as I come to the counter. 

“I can wait.” he hums placing his ring clad fingers on the marble. 

“I’ll be quick.” I drag my eyes up to his. I whisk through the shop making sure the aisles are clean and there’s no stray books. I make my way back to him and drink in his form leaning against the counter. His attention turns to me and my cheeks flush. I go behind the counter to grab my purse and l go to his side. 

“Ready?” he looks down at me. 

“I am.” I hum and he leads me out to his car. He opens the door for me and I slip in and wait for him to get behind the wheel. The drive to his house is quick. As we walk up the sidewalk I stop to take in his manicured yard that seems to have nothing out of place. 

“You can come in. I won’t kill you.” my eyes find him at his words and a giggle bubbles out of me. “Or we can sit in the grass if you want, but the sprinklers might come on.” 

“You’re not getting out of making me dinner that easily.” I smile coming to his side as he opens the front door for me. I look around at his subtle yet ornate decorations. “You have a beautiful home.” I hum turning to him. 

“Thank you.” he smiles slipping off his jacket and I can’t help but look at the way his shirt is spread across his toned chest. 

“Come.” he gestures me to follow him and we end in the kitchen. He pulls out a chair for me to sit at the counter while he goes to the other side. “Tell me about your weekend.” he requests as he starts to pull out ingredients. 

“The store was busier than normal, not that I’m complaining. I’m happy more people are starting to read. Although, it did interrupt my reading time.” I sigh and he chuckles. 

“How long have you owned the store?” he hums turning on the stovetop. 

“A couple years. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” I get lost in thought about everything it took for me to get here. 

“That’s impressive. You should be proud.” he smiles to me and my cheeks tint. 

“Thank you.” I watch him begin to chop something. “What about you? What do you do for work?” I rest my head in my hands watching him. 

“I work with my family.” his response short as he starts on another task. 

“Do you like it?” I try to pry a little more. 

“Yes and no.” he shrugs. “It’s been more tolerable since I’ve gotten my own place.” he drops the ingredients in a pan and I hear it sizzle. 

“Families can be interesting.” I nod and he chuckles. 

“To say the least.” he shakes his head before turning to me. “Do you have a big family?” he tilts his head. 

“No, it’s just me. I just couldn’t- I moved away.” I shake my head meeting his eye. 

“I was going to raise my glass to you but I just realized I’m a terrible host and haven’t offered you anything.” his eye widens and I chuckle. 

“It’s okay, Aemond.” I smile. “I’d be happy to die of thirst in your kitchen.” his eye snaps to mine as a smile spreads across his face. 

“Tea?” he tilts his head. 

“I can make it. You’re cooking.” I slide off the stool and spot his electric kettle. I start to fill the kettle and place it back on waiting for it to boil. 

“I have a lot of options.” he opens the cabinet above me. 

“Are you running a cafe?” I chuckle looking over the different flavors. 

“I could be.” his tone playful. 

“Mm and what are the hours?” I reach for a couple packets. 

“I’ll be open whenever you want me to be.” I turn to him at his words. 

“How generous. Always wanting to satisfy your customers.” we smile at each other before going back to our tasks. I bring him a cup and take mine back to the other side of the counter. He begins to finish this meal and plates it. 

“Go to the dining room.” he nods his head to the softly lit room. 

“I can help bring things out.” I stand there looking up at him. 

“Go take a seat.” he hums gently turning me and scooting me in the direction of the table. I take a seat and watch as he brings in plates and silverware. I offer him thanks every time he sets something in front of me and he hums in response. Once everything is placed he takes a seat across from me and looks at me expectantly. 

“Tell me how it tastes.” he nods. 

“It looks exquisite.” I say softly before cutting into the food. The second the flavors spread across my tongue I sigh and take another bite. “Aemond,” I moan. “This is amazing.” I look up to him and see his red cheeks. 

“Thank you.” his blush deepens and I smile biting my lip. “What’s so funny?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“You look so cute when you blush.” my voice soft as the bold words fall from my mouth. 

“Cute?” he raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone’s called me cute before.” he shakes his head before beginning to eat. 

“I could call you a lot of things.” I scold my tongue for speaking. 

“Is that so?” he sets down his fork and looks to me with an amused expression. 

“Yeah, but cute is enough for today.” I sip on my tea watching him try to hide his smile. 

“What did you think of my last book?” he watches me think. I start to talk about it in between bites and he makes points I didn’t even think about. We continue to talk as we bring our plates to the kitchen and he starts to clean them immediately. Much to his distress I help him with the dishes. “You don’t have to.” 

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” I hum drying off another dish. Once they’re done he’s leading me deeper into his house and my heart starts to beat faster. My breath catches as he walks us into his library. “This is a dream.” I look around at all of the shelves. 

“You own a bookstore.” he chuckles from behind me. 

“Yeah but these are all yours.” I walk to the closest shelf and look at some of the titles. As I continue about the room I can feel him following me and I stop on an empty shelf that has my three books on it. “I feel like my recommendations are out of place here.” I turn to him and my face almost smashes into his chest. I crane my head up to look at him. 

“No, they belong here.” he hums reaching out to brush some of my hair back. I lean into his hand before turning back around and grabbing the last book he read. 

“What did you think about this one?” I turn looking back up at him. 

“Come.” he leads me to the couch and grabs the book from my hands looking over it. “This was more of a romance. I don’t even know if we could call it that.” he chuckles. 

“What would you call it then?” I pout. 

“Erotica.” I roll my eyes at him. “What was the main plot then?” he bites his lip to hide his smile looking down at me. 

“It was like a fated love story.” my voice soft as I feel my cheeks heat. 

“An excuse for them to fuck for half of the book.” his tone playful. 

“So you didn’t like the book?” I nibble my lip. 

“I did. It was just different from what I normally read.” he hums handing me the book. 

“You don’t want to keep it? Will it sully your shelves?” my eyes alight as I look up at him. 

“I think it’d be more of a bedside table book.” his voice low. 

“Did you read this before bed?” I raise my eyebrow at him. 

“I couldn’t read it at work.” his tongue snakes across his lower lip. 

“I did.” my voice barely audible. 

“That’s because your cheeks will just get red. It’d be a little more obvious for me.” his eye darkens and I groan internally. 

“Here I was thinking that was tame.” I keep my voice soft and he laughs. 

“Tame?” he raises an eyebrow. “Now you have to give me the dirtiest book you have.” he smirks at me. 

“I can bring it to the shop tomorrow.” my tone alluring. “But I want your dirtiest book.” I look around the room positive he has to have at least one. 

“In the books I read it’s more like love making.” he smiles as my cheeks heat and I decide I won’t be the only one tormented. 

“You don’t like to fuck?” I look up at him through my lashes and his nostrils flare. 

“I like a lot of things.” he looks me over and I squirm under his gaze. “Let’s go find your next fantasy.” he teases rising from the couch. 

“Aem,” I whine before dragging myself off the couch. 

“Hm?” he hums as I trail behind him. He stops at a couple books before shaking his head and keeps us moving. He stops at a shelf and pulls a book down and nods. He turns to me with a smirk and hands it to me. “There’s a plot and romance.” he places the book in my hands. “And the fucking that you like.” I gasp at his words and he tosses his head back and laughs. 

“Shall I tell you if it becomes my new nightly fantasy?” it’s his turn for his breath to catch. 

“I’ll do the same for you with the book you give me tomorrow.” he hums. 

“The book I give you will be strictly for bed time. I couldn’t even read it at work.” I bite my lip and his eye catches the movement. 

“Is that so?” he purrs. 

“That book gave me my favorite nightly fantasy since you’re so interested in it.” I notice how close our bodies have gotten and I step back an inch. 

“Now I have to read it.” he chuckles lowly. We tease each other for a couple more minutes before he begins to drive me back to my shop. He parks next to my car and we linger in his car, neither one of us ready to leave. 

“Can I have your number?” his words soft and I turn to him pulling my phone out. 

“Of course.” I hand him my phone and he hands me his. We exchange numbers and continue to talk and stare at each other for a couple minutes before we part ways for the night. 

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Aem: Is it a good time for me to come and get the book?

Y/n: Of course. 😌

Aem: I’ll see you soon. 

Aem: This book is crazy, Y/n. 

Y/n: Why? 🫣 

Aem: You know why.

Aem: Do you want tea? 

Y/n: I’m at work. 

Aem: Yeah, I’ll bring it to you. 

Y/n: I would love that. 🥰

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“You are so so sweet.” I coo grabbing the cup from Aemonds hands. 

“How are you liking the book I recommended.” he nods to it on the counter. 

“I actually adore it.” I nod my head with a smile. “Did you see the author is coming out with a second?” I look up to him. 

“We can read it together.” he smiles sipping on his tea. 

“So what made you want to stop by?” I hum. 

“To see you in a different light after almost finishing the book you gave me.” he chuckles shaking his head. “I can’t even tell what your fantasy is, there’s so much in every chapter.” his eye slowly looks me over as my cheeks heat. 

“We can try it all.” I look up at him through my lashes and he dips down with a dark eye. Right when he opens his mouth to speak the bell on the door rings. “Hi, welcome in.” I lean back and poke my head to the side to greet the customer who trails down the first aisle.

“What did you mean?” his voice low. 

“Hm?” I smile up at him. 

“What did you mean, Y/n?” I pull his book back in front of me. 

“About us trying it?” I tilt my head with a smirk. 

“You said all.” he corrects. 

“It might take us a while.” my body heats at the thought as I lean closer to him. 

“I planned to take my time with you.” a whimper falls from my mouth at his words. “Would you like that?” he caresses my cheek. 

“Please.” I look up at him leaning into his hand. 

“When will you be done with your book?” I don’t even process his words as he trails his fingers down my jaw. He tilts my chin up and looks at me waiting. 

“Aem,” his name falls from my lips breathlessly. I look at his mouth and he chuckles. 

“I asked you a question.” he hums tilting my chin further up so I have to look at his eye. 

“Tonight.” my tongue slides across my bottom lip. 

“Dinner at mine tomorrow?” he tilts his head. 

“I would like that.” I sigh as he removes his hand. 

“Text me when you finish the book and we’ll make plans from there.” he hums and slips out of my shop. 

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Y/n: I finished. 

Y/n: I’m excited for the second one. 

Aem: I’m glad you liked it. 

Y/n: Did you finish mine yet?

Aem: Just under 100 pages. 

Y/n: Do you like it?

Aem: It’s been.. interesting. 

Y/n: Interesting because you like it so much? 🤭

Aem: I didn’t say that. 

Y/n: It seemed like it earlier. When you just had to come see me. 

Aem: I wasn’t the one whimpering on the counter. 

Y/n: Let’s make it your kitchen counter next. 

Aem: I’ll see you tomorrow. 

Y/n: I’m sure I’ll be the star in your dreams tonight. 

Aem: What makes you think you haven’t been?

Y/n: Have I been? 👀 

Aem: I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven again. 

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I’m finishing cleaning up the aisles when the bell to my shop rings. I turn and see Aemond slip in and I continue to clean quicker than before. I dump my cleaning supplies behind the counter and go to his side. 

“Someone’s eager.” he chuckles escorting me out the front door. 

“Your cooking is to die for.” I smile as he opens the car door for me. 

“I can cook for you more often.” he slips into the drivers seat and has us on our way to his house. 

“I would like that.” I smooth my dress looking out the window. He ushers us into his home and pulls out the chair for me at his counter and begins to cook. I watch his back muscles move as I nibble my lip. He turns and offers me a taste on the spoon and I prop myself up and moan when the flavors hit my mouth. 

“Do you like it?” he smiles watching me lean over the counter. 

“I do.” I gasp as his hands come around my waist and pull me across the counter. My legs come under me and I sit on the edge of the counter in front of him. “Aemond.” my voice like a plea as he spreads my legs to stand between them. 

“You asked to whimper on my counter.” he places his hands on either side of my thighs.

“But the food.” I look up to him with red cheeks. 

“Has to cook and I’d like a taste.” my breath catches as his fingers dance up my legs. “Can I?” he searches my eyes. 

“Please.” I nod my head and spread my legs wider for him. He smirks before capturing my lips and I bring my hands to him to pull him closer. His fingers push my dress up and I whine into his mouth as they brush against my panties. He kisses down my jaw before helping me lay back. He pulls my waist to the edge and I giggle until his lips are pressing against my thighs. He slides my panties down my legs and his tongue licks up my slit. 

“Aem,” my voice wrecked. His hands grip onto my hips before his tongue lashes against me. My breathing comes out in pants as he swirls around my bud and I push myself into his face. He chuckles and my legs shake at the feeling but he holds them open. His tongue is relentless and I squeak as I feel his fingers near my core. 

“Is this okay?” he lifts up and looks at me with a dark eye. 

“Yes, Aemond, please,” I whine pushing his head back down. He laps against my bud as he presses two long fingers into me. “Fuck,” I whine clenching around his fingers as he starts a quick pace. I arch off the counter as my fingers tangle in his hair. My hips grind into him and my pleasure washes through me as I pulse around his fingers. He continues to work me through and I become a whimpering mess on his counter until he’s pulling back. 

“Let me know if you have any other requests.” he hums kissing me softly before turning back to the stove. I’m still spread across his counter trying to catch my breath as he finishes dinner. He turns back to me and chuckles before turning off the stove and moving the pan to another burner. He pulls my dress down and helps me off the counter. “Go sit in the dining room.” he kisses the side of my head and I walk into the other room on wobbly legs. 

“Thank you.” my voice soft as he places a plate in front of me. 

“Did you want me to feed you too?” he smirks at my widening eyes. 

“I think I can manage.” I roll my eyes at him as he continues to chuckle. 

“Tell me what you think?” he nods to my plate and I take my first bites. 

“Gods Aemond,” I sigh as the flavors travel across my tongue. “This is divine.” I hum taking another bite. 

“I’m glad it’s to your liking.” he smiles at me across from the table. We eat in silence and share heated glances throughout. Once our plates are emptied we bring them to the kitchen and wash them together. 

“To your library?” I tilt my head looking up to him. 

“Unless you want to get back on the counter and give me dessert.” I tug his hand down the hall not bothering to respond to him. He chuckles going in the lead and bringing us to the couch in the center of the room. “Let’s hear about how you liked your book first.” he turns to me. 

“I think it was perfectly balanced and if that’s your dirtiest book then I must have corrupted you.” I smirk blinking at him. I got into what I liked best while he chuckles and nods his head listening before I turn all of my attention to him. “Well what did you think about my book?” 

“I think we can just call that porn.” he raises an eyebrow to me. 

“There was some plot..” I trail off with a hint of a smile. 

“What was it? How many times she could come?” he laughs. “It was written well. I’ll give the author that but Gods..” he shakes his head. 

“There was some of the love making you like though.” I pout. 

“That’s generous.” he bursts out in a loud laugh. 

“Where is it? I’ll find it in the book.” I huff getting up and walking to his shelf to retrieve it.

“On my bedside table.” he smirks. 

“I figured you would read in here.” I look around. “Sprawled out on your couch, book in one hand, the other down your pants..” he rises at my words and stalks over to me. 

“Is that how you read it?” his voice low as he towers over me. 

“No, I would wait until I was done reading for the night and swap it out with something else in my bedside table that could help me.” I bite my lip. 

“How many times did you come?” he licks his lips. 

“Until I was shaking.” my voice barely audible and he groans. His hands go to my waist and pull me closer. “We still have to talk about what you think.” I tilt my head further up. 

“I thought about us as the main characters.” a soft whine leaves my lips at his words. “All I thought about was fucking you for the past couple of days. Nonstop.” his words low. 

“Yet you still haven’t.” I tease him and he lifts me up and carries me out of the library. He pushes open a door and tosses me into the middle of his bed. My dress rises up and his eye catches my dripping core. 

“I decided I will have dessert.” he hums before kneeling on the ground and pulling me against his face. 

“Aemond,” my voice cracks as he starts to feverishly lick at my bud. He pushes my dress further up as his arms wrap around my hips. I gasp as his tongue travels down to my entrance. My hips try to buck against him but his hold is firm. His nose continuously brushes against my bud while his tongue explores me. My toes curl as quick whimpers fall from my mouth as he coaxes pleasure from me. I cry out as my high washes through me as he holds my hips in place. I try to move out of his grasp but his fingers dig into my flesh. 

“Stop squirming. I’m not done.” he lifts his head up to look at me with a dark eye before diving back down. 

“Aem, right there,” his tongue doesn’t move from its spot but he moves it faster. He pushes his fingers into my core and my moans turn high pitched. “Fuck, I’m gunna-“ my hand flies to his hair as my coil snaps and my legs tremble in his hands. His fingers continue to slam into me and my eyes roll to the back of my head. I feel his mouth leave but his fingers curl inside of me and I clench around them. 

“How’s it feel?” his voice taunting as he speeds up his movements. 

“So good,” my voice slurred with pleasure as my hips slightly rock into his fingers. The second his tongue touches my bud again I burst across his face. “Aem, Aemond,” my voice breaking with every chant of his name. He removes himself from me and I lay there catching my breath. I crack open my eyes as he pulls my dress off of me completely exposing my body. 

“Beautiful.” he slips his tongue around my hardened nipples and I sigh as he peppers my chest with attention. “Scoot up the bed.” he nods his head toward the pillows as he stands to undress. I watch him with low lids once I’m propped against his pillows. I lick my lips as he crawls into bed over me. “I’m going to show you what I read.” I nod my head before reaching up to kiss him. 

He slows the kiss down and slowly grinds against me. I writhe beneath him as I gasp for breath as he continues to explore my mouth. His tongue caresses against mine as he steadily rocks his length through my wetness. He lines himself up and slowly pushes in and I let out soft sighs. He rocks into me while keeping our mouths mashed together. With every hard thrust he’s brushing against my bud and I cling onto his back. 

“Aem,” his name spills from my mouth into the space between us as he slowly pushes into me. Our bodies have no end or beginning as he pushes into me. I feel every inch of him and the second his thumb rubs slow circles around my bud I’m coming undone around him. 

“Did you like that?” he hums stilling inside of me waiting for me to come down. 

“I did.” my words breathy. I whine as he pulls out. He quickly flips me over and my head presses into his pillows. His fingers dig into my hips as he lifts them into the air and slams into me. “Fuck,” I moan into the pillow as he starts pounding into me. His hand travels up my spine before tangling in my hair and pulling my face up. 

“Let me hear how much you like being fucked like this.” he grunts. His pace is relentless and I begin to push my hips back to meet his. He groans as his hips snap into mine. He pulls me up against his chest and hammers up into me. His hand leaves my hair to wrap around my throat. I clench around him and he chuckles before applying light pressure. “Yeah you like that?” he growls in my ear as his pace becomes brutal. 

“Yes,” I whine as my hands cling onto his arms. My pleasure unexpectedly slams through me and I push back into him as he grunts digging his fingers into my hip as he keeps his pace. 

“Such a good girl taking everything I give you.” he pushes me back down onto the bed. His rhythm falters and I arch my back more to help him find his pleasure. His arm snakes around to my bud and my vision blurs as my pleasure tears through me again. I feel him fill me with his warmth and slowly pull out. I lay on his bed with my ass still in the air before he chuckles and pulls me down onto his chest. 

“We have a lot more of that book to get through.” he chuckles holding me against him. 

“I’ll find us more. I don’t want this to ever stop.” I cuddle into his chest more as he brushes my hair back. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist 🔌 

there will like 99.99% be a part 2 🙂

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra @hiimava11 @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @fiction-fanfic-reader @povofjustme

[lymtw]

hi! omg I just have to tell you that you literally write Toji so well. If you’re taking requests, (if not then so sorry disregard!) may I request something where Toji accidentally hurts reader during sex and how he reacts? Or maybe pushes a boundary or something? Thank you so much! If this doesn’t interest you sorry!

A/N: Hello, hello 😊 Thank you for reading my works! I'm so glad to hear that enjoy the way I write this hunk of a man 🥰🫶🏼

Thank you for sending in this request 💙

It was one of those nights where things were calm and quiet, until Toji got home from a job that took up most of his day. His footsteps were heavy on the floor, his adrenaline was still high, and all he wanted was you, after a day that seemed never ending.

He greeted you like he usually does on days like this, with a weary, 'hey, doll' and a kiss that doesn't last too long, because he's aware of how he reeks of sweat and he feels filthy. He vented a little bit about his day, finally getting to verbalize his frustrations about the client's unprofessionalism and the snarky attitude that he had to deal with all day. The not so subtle sigh he let out afterwards, told you everything. You would have to give him a little extra love once he got out of the shower, to remind him that there will never be ruthlessness in any way, shape or form, similar to what he sees outside, when he comes home. You'll always be his solace, there to take care of him, even before things get too heavy for him to bear on his own.

Toji had different plans for the night. He came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still gliding down his chest and rolling down his abdomen. You thought maybe he forgot to grab clothes, but that theory was immediately shut down when he unwrapped the towel and started running it up his body to dry himself a little more.

You flipped onto your stomach on the bed, your attention going to your phone as you wait for him to finish getting ready for bed.

"Since when are you shy about ogling me?" Toji asks, after a few seconds, a smirk decorating his face as he rakes his eyes over your backside.

You craned your neck to look at him, and he still wasn't dressed. "I'm not. Just thought it'd be a quick swoop of you getting your clothes on, so I naturally turned around."

He hums. "And if I decide to sleep like this, tonight?"

You shrug. "By all means. If you're comfortable, i'm not gonna stop you."

You never thought you'd have to go back on your word. He was comfortable. Very much so, but you weren't, anymore. It started out as something similar to what you had planned. You were affectionate with him, planting sweet kisses onto his face and lips, which he returned. It really was a loving moment, even when his hands started roaming, grabbing at your chest and teasing you through your underwear. It was still loving when he bared you, pulling off your shirt and kissing your exposed skin, your shorts and underwear being tugged off in the process.

What started out as a gentle lovemaking session, with quiet gasps and hums of pleasure, transitioned into something less delicate. His hips picked up a feral pace that ripped orgasms from both of you, sensitivity being the only thing he slowed down for. Heavy, audible breathing, gasps that sounded like you had the wind knocked out of you and cries, took the place of noises that were once light and controllable—volume-wise.

You felt like you were being used—like he saw you as something insentient, in that moment. Rough sex with him wasn't new, but this was something else, entirely. Everything was starting to hurt in an unpleasant manner. Your abdomen felt sore from how much it tensed each time you came, your thighs burned from being pinned to your chest for so long, and the actual movement of his cock drilling into your abused cunt was starting to bring on some tenderness.

"T-Toji," you call, through a huff. He couldn't hear you over the lewd sounds of skin on skin and his own sounds of pleasure. "Toji," you try again, your voice still coming out meekly. "Please, can we..." you whimper. "Can we pause?"

"Pause?" He grunts, not stilling. "You want me to stop? I'm close, again, baby. Just a little more."

You wanted to last for him. You wanted to let him have this last one, but you couldn't do it. It was too much to endure, and though it was terrifying to say the word, again, for the first time in a while, you had to put an end to it. It was for the best.

"Safe, Toji! Safe! Safe!" You used as much strength as you could to get your legs down, accidentally kicking him in the process. Toji got off of you immediately, his heartbeat doubling its pace— a mixture of his exertion and the sound of your very rarely used safe word, being shouted out. "S-Sorry, i'm sorry!" You choke out, apologizing for the accidental strike. There was guilt in there as well, for killing his pleasure.

He catches his breath before responding to you, not wanting to sound like a panting dog as he communicates the matter with you.

"What are you saying 'sorry' for?" He asks, eyes darting over your frame, watching as you scramble to cover yourself up with the blanket. "No, baby. Don't do that." He leans down to pick up the towel he let fall to the floor, before climbing into bed with you, and drapes it over his lap.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. You felt vulnerable, unable to look at Toji, even when you could feel his gaze on you.

"You okay?" He asks, looking at your twinkling eyes and the stifled quiver of your lips.

"It's okay," you say, your voice wavering. "It's fine." You glance at him, crossing your arms over your chest beneath the blanket.

"I asked if you're okay. Answer that first."

The room went quiet as you tried to compose yourself. The lump in your throat got more uncomfortable by the second. Your stomach ached from the soreness of your abdominal muscles and from holding in your emotions, for the sake of putting up a strong front that Toji never asked for. He was being genuine and his eyes wouldn't leave your face. He could see you holding it together, poorly.

"It was just a lot... and it was starting to hurt. I just- I needed a break." You swipe the knuckle of your index finger beneath your eye, frustrated by the cool dampness left behind on your skin.

"Okay, and what was that 'sorry' for?" He asks. He wants to hold onto some part of you, to hopefully soothe you a little bit, but he's not sure if you want to be touched by him, right now.

"You didn't get to finish and I kicked you. It was an accident, I swear. I didn't mean to do that. You know I would never hit you, Toji." Your eyes welled up, again. You thought about how you want to make him feel as safe as he makes you feel.

"It didn't hurt me one bit, ma. You barely even touched me, so drop the guilt on that. Also, do you not feel and see the mess we made?"

It's impossible not to. You're both sweaty, the sheets are damp with the juices that flowed out of you and his cum still resides in you—warm and slowly drooling out.

"I'm more than satisfied. I was getting greedy with you, huh?"

You nod your head, giving him a small, weary smile.

He sighs, no trace of disappointment or being let down. If there's anything to be upset over, it's the fact that you apologized for something you were faultless about. He can't bring himself to be firm with you about it, right now. You still did exactly what you were supposed to by using the safe word. As for the guilt that lingered around having to use it, that's a long conversation reserved for a more appropriate time.

"Are you okay?" He asks, again. "Be honest."

"A little sore, but i'm okay," you respond, lifting the blanket up over your chest, again.

"Mm, okay. Stay here." He wraps the towel that rests on him, around his waist. "Don't go anywhere, alright?" The corners of his lips lifted, earning another smile from you before he's off to the bathroom. He grabs a towel and uses hot water to dampen it, knowing that by the time he gets back to you, it'll be warm.

He ran the towel all over you, a simple wipe down, for now, so that you would feel a little cleaner and wait to shower until morning.

His gaze is soft as it trails behind the movement of his hand. This is an act of love for the one who cares about him more than anyone else, meaning his touch is as gentle as can be, like he's mending deeper wounds.

When he got to the most sensitive part, he was especially careful. He was very attentive, dabbing the towel against you, his eyes flitting between what his hands were doing and your face to make sure he wasn't hurting you. You winced a few times, and each time he pressed a kiss to your thigh—a silent apology.

Afterwards, the sheets were pulled off the bed and tossed aside to be washed, along with the blanket. Only the comforter stayed so that you wouldn't have to sleep on the bare mattress. You both got dressed, staying light in clothes for comfort. Even without a blanket, you wouldn't be cold for a second through the night, because Toji clung onto you. He held you tight and murmured sweet nothings into your ear, until all you could do was hum tiredly in response, eventually falling asleep.

[slvtforfiction]

I can’t get this off my mind

CNC

Thinking about Ghost who’s holding you up to his chest as you lean back against him,your reflection piercing through the mirror infront of you as he slowly fingers you. Slowly. He’s not getting fast enough to push you to the edge he’s just slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you as you writhe underneath him,begging for more than just his fingers.

He’s slowly dragging his fingers up and down inside of you,enough to give you pleasure and not enough to tip you off the edge.

“Si! Please..wanna cum.”

“Sweetheart you can wait can’t you? My baby can wait.”

He doesn’t want to hear you complain,just wants to slowly feel you inside as you squeeze him attempting to gain more friction.

You can start crying and begging for him all you want but he’s having none of it.

“Please si.” You muttered through sobs and whines,hiccups following your cries

“Come on baby you can wait,yeah? Be patient my love.”

He’ll keep his arm loosely wrapped around your waist as you cry out for him. Begging whilst you cry,admitting you can’t hold wait anymore.

“Baby come on you can wait,stop crying honey.”

He won’t feel bad about your crying,he’ll wipe away your tears and listen to you talk through your hiccups,sobs and pleas.

“Awh come on baby,stop crying f’ me yeah?”

He’ll talk to you almost too casually,he’ll talk about life and what he did the other day whilst you were out as he acts like this is normal.

“The boys want to meet you.”

“No! Please wanna cum!”

“Bit rude,Johnny was talking ‘bout wanting to meet ya’. You know,yesterday when you went out,how much did ya’ spend? Ya’ use my debit card,yeah? Gonna run me dry you know.”

He’ll talk as though your not desperate for a release,whilst your crying out loud and begging for release he’ll laugh at you.

“Come on my baby can take more that,pretty littl’ thing”

He’ll edge you for hours,in that same position before deciding you’ve been through enough.

“My baby wanna come f’ me?”

“Please! Yes! Please!”

“Okay lovie ya’ earnt it.”

He’ll let you come before quickly pulling away but if you think that’s the end your sorely mistaken.

He wants more than just 1 round,he wants to overstimulate you until you’re begging him to stop,telling him it’s too much until you can no longer form a coherent thought.

He’ll eat you out with motive and swiftness,as he goes down on you he’ll watch as you attempt to push him away,laughing at you.

“Wanna taste you ‘till ya’ can’t feel not’ing, wanna be ya’ only thou’ht.”

Mans is not finished till your moaning incoherently,babbling his name and drooling down your face.

Trying to push him away was now a distant thought,you lay there motionless as you cum over and over again,losing track of time as you babble and drool over him.

You didn’t even bother trying to clench your fists,it was a useless game to play knowing that Simon would continue until you pass out.

(This theory is quickly dismissed after you’re sitting in the hospital trying to come up with an excuse as to why your husband has lockjaw.)

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Masterlist | Pinned Post

[rad-batson]

Headcanons of Tim and Damian’s Love/Hate/But-Mostly-Begrudging-Love Relationship (They’re My Babies)

They will take EVERY opportunity to be a little bitch to one another

Tim: “Don’t get too close to me. You probably have rabies.” Damian: *actually bites him*

Damian tripped Tim once, which started an all out prank war that lasted several months. It only ended when Bruce walked into a glue trap and couldn’t reach his phone to call for help. But he couldn’t figure out who put it there so they were both grounded. (It was Tim.)

Tim teaches Damian to finish his vine references when Bruce tells them they need to “bond.” They proceed to try and speak in exclusively vine references and TikTok sounds during patrol. Bruce benches them for his own sanity.

Damian: “I’m not touching you” *gets pushed down the stairs*

Tim: “I’m not in your room” *gets hit in the face with a book*

Tim calls Damian short even tho he’s only like two inches taller for quite a bit of time (and Damian never hears the end of it after Tim’s growth spurt)

Family Game Night could go in one of two ways: they’re opponents and spend the whole night one-upping each other OR they team up and wipe the floor with everyone else’s pieces

Damian: “Just trust me.” Tim: *remembering that one time Damian tried to kill him* “Okay.”

Tim: “Don’t ask questions.” Damian: *recalling the multiple genocidal Tim variants* “Whatever.”

During one Wayne Gala, they make up this game called Freestyle Checkers where they choose guests as their “pieces” then subtly manipulate them into walking to their opponent’s side of the ballroom without talking to someone from the other team or they’re out. No one can know that they’re part of a game or their opponent wins by default.

Bruce is proud of them at first for being more sociable during galas until he realizes what’s going on and immediately loses five years from his lifespan.

Both have attempted to fake their deaths to get out of the same school project

They’re both notorious for stalking people to get information instead of just…ya know…asking like a normal person. So they’re bound to team up one day.

Like maybe it’s Bruce’s birthday soon and both are like “No, I’m getting him the better present,” but then they run into each other in the vents trying to find out what he wants and they end up trading secrets. Just brotherly things

Tim: “I need you to follow this guy for me. I think he’s our culprit.” Damian: “I would rather die than take orders from you.” Tim: “I’ll buy you that fancy oil painting kit you want.” Damian: *already changing into his Robin gear* “Where is he?”

Tim makes Damian play the dumb, helpless kid in all of their covert operations, which pisses Damian off until he gets so good at it that he uses it to his advantage and annoys the hell out of Tim when they’re paired up for public appearances

“God, he’s so annoying.” “Yeah, totally.” “What the fuck did you say about my brother?”

Damian is the only person who can get Tim to actually sleep for once. No one knows how he does it, but the strongest theory so far is blackmail

Tim “I’m ignoring Bruce’s instructions because they failed the vibe check” Drake and Damian “I can totally do this mission that requires four people on my own” Wayne teaming up behind Bruce’s back and immediately getting into deep shit but somehow making it out alive with the bad guys behind bars.

During one of said missions, they thought they were going to die and said “I love you” to one another. After they survived, they silently agreed to never mention it again.

Damian gifts Tim a new board that he designed for his birthday. It took weeks. Tim cries

[butteronabun]

diluc + EXES EXES EXES PLEASE (HIIII butter on a bun ^_^ i will Enable you because i have a playlist for him dedicated to this shit) + canon/modern au, etc — pick whatever YOU were thinking writing the request post + spin the wheel and pick a genre~ again, this request is an excuse to hear YOUR thoughts (i have some of my own)

extra: pick whether you want it to be she/her or g/n~ i’m fine with both 🫶

sincerely, 🥩 (who missed you and hasn’t caught up with recent posts bc i was busy </3)

wish that i had more of this borrowed time

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader exes au.

overview: diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

wc: 3.2k

notes: originally this was 5k words but that was so much & i didn’t want to complicate this more so TAKE IT 😙 this is also a bit open-ended so feel free to interpret this however you like!! also, additional notes will be in the end, so better check that out too :)

“You’re going to break that glass, Master Diluc,” remarks Kaeya Alberich himself, who is this close to purchasing popcorn to watch the ‘drama’ that he has been observing for a while now. Weinlesefest truly has its wonders – fresh wine, good company, and a brother who definitely still isn’t over his ex, even if said brother continues to deny it. “You look under the weather. Why not take a breather and enjoy the sights? You have a loyal staff that’s willing to oversee the Angel’s Share stand for a while.”

Diluc’s cold, unwavering glare remains on that face of his. Kaeya’s almost certain that comparing his ice from his cryo vision with Diluc’s expression will have no difference at all. “I am doing fine, Master Kaeya.” He looks down at the glass he has wiped for—Kaeya guesses—the fifth time now, and picks up another one. 

“Really? But it’s becoming a little hot, Master Diluc. I’ve noticed that as the minutes pass by, the temperature of the stand has been concerningly rising as of late. Are you secretly heating up some tasty bar snacks, or is it something else?”

Kaeya suppresses a smirk when the warmth around them subdues momentarily. He has one theory that he’s sure is actually true—a theory where that ‘heat’ is coming from, and it’s definitely not the wind. 

It’s the ninth month of the calendar. Summer’s already over. So it’s safe to say that. . .

“Don’t you have other matters to tend to?” Diluc narrows his eyes at him. Oh, changing the subject now, aren’t we? “Surely, Cavalry Captains still have to scout the area for any potential threats during Weinlesefest, or have the knights really gone incompetent?”

“Oh, you. Everyone deserves to enjoy the festival every once in a while,” Kaeya raises his keg playfully. “And that includes even you.”

Diluc just grumbles at that. Still stubborn as always, but Kaeya remembers the day when the traveler told him a few years ago that Diluc, despite isolating himself during the previous festivals, reveled. (Reveled on his own, was what they clarified.) It’s a comforting thought that even such a busy man as himself can still enjoy these moments.

And Kaeya wishes he’d see it more. 

Diluc willingly taking charge of the Angel Share’s stand instead of Charles? How endearing. Is it really because he’s here for the celebration, or something else? 

(Kaeya—and he’s pretty sure, Diluc is, too—hears nearby footsteps. Familiar voices.)

Or someone else?

Whatever it is, Kaeya is fine with either. 

“Still baffles me that my suggested proposals got rejected— ah, we’re here. Oh, hi, Kaeya!” 

Kaeya sips his beer and smiles at you. “Hey.” And he watches it all unfold again. You smile back at him, before slowly turning to Diluc, who has never taken his eyes off of you ever since your arrival. 

You hide a lock of your hair behind your ear timidly. “Hi, Diluc.”

It’s really fascinating to see his brother still so soft with you. People may not notice this, but Kaeya knows Diluc best. “Good evening. What would you like tonight?”

“Ah – my company here—” you turn to the man beside you, a fellow colleague perhaps, and Kaeya seriously has to control himself from smirking. The area’s heating up again. “—would like to try some of the Fruits of the Festival that we’ve been hearing of. Is it still available?”

Diluc nods. “Yours?”

“I don’t want anything, actually—”

“Please, don’t do that,” The man calls out your name, and steps forward. The warmth’s growing. “If you think that you’re treating me tonight, then I’ll be treating you as well. Bartender, I’ll be ordering Wolfhook Juice for this lovely lady.”

The man winks at you, confident with himself, until Diluc breaks the flair by simply saying, “She’s allergic to that.”

Ah, this is great. Kaeya’s considering if he should bring Rosaria or even Lisa along for the drama. 

“W–wait, really? You’re allergic to Wolfhook?”

“Ah, D–Diluc—” As much as Kaeya relishes in dear Diluc’s jealousy, your expressions are also just as priceless. Speechless that his amazing brother still has one detail about you memorized? Pfft. Such is a man of great talent who has a knack for processing knowledge in such a short time. He’s a businessman, after all. It’s important to know a lot of things. “You still remember that?”

Diluc doesn’t reply to that question. Instead, he goes on preparing the drink with ease and in silence. Kaeya can feel the awkwardness in the air as they watch Diluc swiftly mix the ingredients, and the man accompanying you merely coughs to dissipate the tension.

“So, um,” The man starts, “I’ve heard that Starsnatch Cliff looks beautiful at this time of night. I was wondering if you’d like to stargaze with me?”

You seem sheepish. “Oh, I—”

There’s a loud thud, surprising everyone, except for Kaeya and Diluc themselves. Diluc has placed the glass in front of the man, face emotionless. “It’s late. Dangerous, even. I recommend that you postpone such a journey.” 

Kaeya hides his smile behind his keg. Oh, Diluc. Could you get even more obvious? He wishes to voice out that poor Klee and the other children might get scared because of his ‘grumpy face’ again, but it is late and they’re not here anymore, so it isn’t a valid reason to mention. 

Oh, the area’s hotter now. The man is visibly sweating under the intimidating man’s stare. “A–Ah, I see- t–thank you for that then, good sir—”

“Diluc, don’t scare him,” you scold him lightly, and take the glass. “And we’ll be fine, I have a vision.”

His stupid brother’s about to protest, and Kaeya readies himself for another session of ‘Diluc Facepalming Himself Because He Made A Fool of Himself In Front of his Ex’ when you add on:

“Though, Diluc’s right. It’s dangerous to go out right now since I’ve heard from the outriders that the concentration of hilichurl camps around that area is growing in size again. So we shouldn’t go.” You give the man his drink, and gesture him to an empty table. “And didn’t you tell me you’re tired already? Why not sit down for a while?”

Once you two are seated on a table that’s too far for Diluc’s liking, Kaeya sighs and shakes his head. Diluc glowers at him. “What?”

“Attentive as ever.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Diluc says as he crosses his arms.

“The least thing you could do is be attentive to her well–being, even though you’re not her lover anymore?” The temperature intensifies. Oops. Kaeya stepped on something he shouldn’t. But it’s always so fun to get on Diluc’s nerves. “Admit it, you still haven’t moved on.”

Diluc then retorts, “Is it so bad to care for an old friend?” “So that’s what you call her now?”

“Kaeya,” Diluc warns.

“Diluc~” Kaeya pleasantly sings. Then, his lips part into an ‘o.’ “My, I smell something burning. Are you really cooking something up?”

Kaeya doesn’t bat an eyelash on the slightly scorched bartop.

_

Diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

He has too much love in his heart, and oftentimes, it causes him great anguish. 

He wanted to rip his heart out the night his father passed on. He wanted to stomp on it after causing Kaeya harm. 

And he wanted to abandon it, just like how you did.

“Let’s end this,” you told him one dinner, with your head dipped down, not wanting to meet his eyes. You trembled as you anticipated his response, but you didn’t get one. Diluc was left aghast. “This isn’t working for the both of us, Diluc.”

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr who dedicated his time to protecting the city and thwarting the enemies that threatened his nation. Such is the fate of a Ragnvindr who occupied himself with the winery’s business ventures. 

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr, who, despite having a big heart, had failed his lover. 

He wanted to say—maybe we could try again. I will be better this time. He knew he could solve this, if he could think of strategies to counterattack the abyss, or even keep his competitors on their toes with his new business plans, surely, he could remedy this. 

“I have too much on my plate. You have too much on yours. Let us end this before we affect each other.”

When your tears cascaded down your cheeks, Diluc wanted to wipe them away. But he couldn’t even move. Not even an inch. How could he, when his heart was being shattered to pieces? 

You had too much on your plate? Why didn’t you say anything? You know he’d always be here for you.

So why?

He wanted to say — then let’s face them together.

But you had other plans.

It was over. 

And he understood.

_

“How fortunate that our dear cutie decided to visit this year’s Weinlesefest,” Lisa says as she touches the petals of the cecilias. She’s here in Diluc’s garden. Lisa, for some reason, has the tendency to make unannounced visits. She smiles up at Diluc who’s observing her from the gazebo. “Don’t you feel the same way too, Diluc? That she’s here again, after almost two and a half years.”

Diluc crosses his arms. “I fail to understand why I’d have to voice out my opinions on the matter.”

“Ah, but didn’t you say something to Kaeya? Supposedly, shouldn’t you be happy that an ‘old friend’ came back?”

Diluc averts his gaze, and Lisa smiles even wider before tending back to the flowers.

“She favors these, don't they? Cecilia flowers.” Lisa sniffs one. This one smells very fresh. It’s as if all the flowers here are greatly taken care of. “Oh, this takes me back. I still recall how you and her first met. You two were so adorable! She used to chase you around, desperate for your attention. And despite your attempts to push her away, she still managed to win you over. Her blushing face was the absolute best when you gifted her a bouquet of cecilias. Really, who knew that you could get so romantic?”

Lisa lifts her head and fixates on the clouds. “She’s your first love, right? And you treasured her so.” She checks to see if Diluc’s still there, and he is. 

He’s still sulking like the baby he is.

“Diluc?”

Lisa can hear him murmur, but it’s not too audible for her ears to pick up. “I beg your pardon?”

“. . .her favorite.”

Lisa tilts her head. “Favorite?” 

“Cecilia flowers.” Diluc says. “They’re not her favorite.”

“Oh, my. So what’s her favorite, then?”

Diluc is reluctant. But he answers anyway. “Small lamp grass flowers.”

Oh, Lisa knows.

She just wanted to hear him say it.

_

No one knows how much Diluc has struggled during the first months of your breakup with him. 

He got moody, at times. Even slept in too much, which was surprising, because he wasn’t the type of person to sleep, not at all, when he had errands to run. He was a business owner by day, and a vigilante by night—he shouldn’t coop himself up inside his quarters all the time just to let his broken heart weep.

So even if those days, those weeks, those months, were nothing but unimaginable suffering – Diluc had to rise. Someone still had to face the darkness for the dawn.

The overseeing of the winery and the scouting of adversaries were great distractions to someone like him.

But he couldn’t deny the fact that whenever he was resting, or even had one moment of leisure, those thoughts canw creeping in. How were you? Where were you? Are you faring well? Do you still yearn for him, as much as he yearns for you?

Are you as ruined as he is?

Diluc didn’t expect that breakups could get this hard. He thought the drunkards in his taverns were over exaggerating it a bit too much because of the alcohol, but now, he could understand.

( He didn’t resort to alcoholism, though. )

He really tried to get over you. He really did. He really tried to forget. 

But how could he, when he cherished you so?

How could he, when his heart continuously ached for you? How could he, when he longed for you desperately after you left Mondstadt.

_

( ”There are plenty of fish in the sea. There are lots of daughters from various nations wanting to be your wife! Why not choose any of them, to fill that hole in your chest?”

The last time a patron told Master Diluc those exact words, he nearly banished them from his tavern. )

_

Moving on was not an option here, it seemed, when everything reminded Diluc of you. 

He saw you everywhere. You liked talking a lot, and he liked listening to you, even before you two were dating. Every experience, every anecdote, every musing, and every vent — he remembered it all. 

Diluc knew what type of coffee you liked. At first, you weren’t such a big fan of them, but you found one that suited your taste. ( “Just one cup is enough, though. Two or more will make me palpitate!” ) Pepperoni became your favorite pizza topping when you ate with Jean when she invited you for lunch out of gratitude. ( “Cheesy spinach is a close second!” ) You liked reading books and seemed to get lost in them a lot; you even excitedly discussed your reviews to him of the novels or pieces of information you’ve read. ( “Like can you believe it?! He had a twin brother all along!” or “Now I understand why you have such a big chair in your office! It’s because it signifies your status! ” )

You were so endearing. Diluc really, really loved every bit of you and made sure to give you the love that you deserved. He tried his best as he could to provide you with the affection that you needed.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

Because if it did, Diluc would still be here at his dining table, reading his documents and sipping coffee with you. If it did, you’d still offer Diluc one slice of pepperoni or cheesy spinach pizza after your lunch with Jean. If it did, you would still bother him underneath the sheets until late hours into the night regarding the mundane and the interesting.

Move on, they said. They were all growing concerned.

Move on, a rational part of him also said. It was for his own good.

But he had always been stubborn.

_

( 

“Master Diluc’s single?! Again?”

“The most eligible bachelor’s throne is his once more.”

“Back off, even if the Master’s single, he won’t give you no heed. Just give up.”

“Come on, support me a little! I just want to give him a good time. Don’t you think I have a chance?”

“Not one bit, lass. Not one bit.” )

_

Weinlesefest is in full swing—

“Yet here you are, moping.” A green bard sits on the pier beside Diluc, who’s currently throwing rocks onto the surface of the water. “Master Diluc, shouldn’t you be out there and celebrate? Or did you choose to stay here because you haven’t scored a date?”

Diluc narrows his eyes at him curtly, before throwing another stone into the water. 

“A silent treatment for me, I see,” The bard strings his lyre, “But I have no worry, for you’ll answer me eventually.”

Diluc sighs. “She’s occupied as of the moment.”

“Oh~? I see that the tables have turned, then?”

Diluc scoffs. Of course he also knows about what had happened before. “Really. What’s your purpose for being here? And stop with your rhyming. It’s annoying me.”

The bard snickers. Stroke a chord it seems. “It’s the second to the last day of this festive event, and I’ve yet to see you participate. Minus the fact of taking care of the Angel Share’s stall, but you must at least do something that’s not related to work.”

“It’s in my blood to dedicate myself when it comes to work.” Diluc throws another stone. “I have no other choice, Venti.”

“Yet here you are, skipping stones?”

“Here I am, skipping stones.”

The bard sighs sadly. As he kicks his legs back and forth, he says - “Do you remember the Thousand-Wind Wine Razor made with the Traveler?”

“Of course. The barrel they used belongs to my winery.”

There’s another silence. Then Venti speaks again. “The wind is many things, you know. It can bring back the soul, and especially, preserve memories—you know of the fact that dandelion seeds are added last as a way of capturing the wind at the very moment when the barrel is sealed. Meaning, the memory of that ‘moment’ is stored in the wine, for all eternity.”

“And your point is?”

“Let yourself be happy this once.”

_

After the citizens of Mondstadt welcomed the Anemo God, they all felt the gentle breeze kissing their skin as he graciously made himself present into the wind. The children cheered, and the adults raised their cups for a toast. Everyone was having a splendid time.

“To the Anemo Archon!”

You, however, have just finished preparing for your departure back to Sumeru. After packing your belongings and making sure you didn’t leave anything in the inn, you had to go find your companion — who’s still probably busy trying out new drinks. 

You sigh at that, a little amused. You also resign to this fate. The journey to Sumeru will have to wait until later. Plus, you haven’t even properly said your goodbyes to the others, so, there���s that. 

A polite cough echoes behind you. You turn around, and your heart flutters at the sight of a familiar man. Diluc.

“May I request a bit of your time?” He asks, always so gently.

You’re pleased and surprised, of course - because it’s Diluc. Diluc, who’s obviously seeking you, even if he’s made clear that he’s occupied with duties of the winery. 

You want to humor him a little bit, so you snicker. “But what if I don’t want to?” You gesture to your satchel. “I’m preparing for my departure, you see.”

Diluc already knows that, doesn’t he? He doesn’t even react. “If that’s the case, then I respect your decision.”

Oh, that’s a bit disappointing. You kind of want to slap yourself for that. You should’ve just accepted Diluc’s request instead of pulling stuff like this. Why play hard to get, when Diluc’s already—

“But I beg of you,” Diluc adds, and you blink. There’s determination in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat when you notice that there’s also something else. “Before you leave. . . please, spend time with me. All it takes is just a short moment with you, and I’ll be content. I won’t ask for anything more.”

—making initiative, huh.

How can you say no to that?

You smile at him—a little bit too tenderly. “Alright then, Diluc.” You lift a hand, gesturing for him to take it. “Lead the way.”

supposedly this was seriously longer, it had more plot ( i indulged on this way too much when i was writing this but had to omit a lot of stuff because i was getting overboard + wanted to more focus on how diluc interacts with his ex / what he feels about his ex / what he felt without his ex asfghjfk also, here's one screenshot before i deleted this part; i wasn't rlly kidding that it had more substance and it was originally angsty:

anw. shoutout to my bestie who brainstormed with me abt ex diluc hcs it was so fun. lemme share to y'all what we talked abt: 1) we thought that diluc is the type of person who’d date to marry, 2) his heart is so so freaking loyal he'd still pine for his first love, and 3) he falls hard and is stupidly sentimental plus. if he did have an ex, the breakup will def bother / ruin / devastate him, especially when he loved that person sm :(