#Cold Boys adjacent

[moongazeonastarfillednight]

The Terror: When, How, Where... (PART 2)

See Part 1 here (ep 1 thru 5) See Part 3 here (Ep 10)

For Context I am trying to make a timeline with locations from The Terror. You will find here:

1. Probable location and coordinates

2. Probable date

3. Travel distance and speed

4. Death count

List of Locations identified so far:

Location 1 - David Young's grave (71.22, -96.60) - Sept 5 1846

Location 2 - Ships Position September 1846 (70.25, -98.00) - Sept 12 1846

Location 3 - Ships Position June 1847 (70.15, -98.30) - May 24 to Jun 11 1847

Location 4 & 5 - The Cairn and the Ice Camp (69.66, -98.27) - May 28 1847

Location 6- The Ships in January 1848 (70.055, -98.59) - January 10th- 17th 1848 

Location 7- The Ships in April 1848 (69.88, -98.57) - April 22nd 1848 

Location 8 - Fairholmes' Last Resting Place (69.72, -98.35) - April 23rd 1848 

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24) - April 24th-26th  1848 

Location 10 - Netsilik Massacre (69.62, -98.05) - April 25th 1848 

Location 11- Hodgson is found - Mutineers: (69.56, -98.06) - April 27th 1848 

Location 12 - Hodgson is found – Crozier (69.54, -98.14) - April 27th 1848 

Location 13 - Fitzjames Collapses (68.94, -98.79) - June 10th 1848 

Location 14 - Gibson's death (68.860, -98.73)  - June 27th 1848 

Location 15 - Fitzjames' Death (68.78, -98.21) - July 28th 1848 

Location 16 - The NorWest Passage (68.7, -98.06) - July 28th 1848

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74) - August 3rd 

Location 18 – Bridgens' death (68.70, -97.95) - August 10th 

Loocation 19 - It's Rat Meal Time (68.73, -97.99) - August 3rd 

Location 20 - Crozier Ambushed (68.67, -97.84) - Augsut 10th 

Known and historical locations are in blue

Proposed locations by Franklin Researchers in orange

Proposed locations by yours truly in pink

Historical locations but for which the show took liberties... in red

Analysis below the line

1927 Admiralty Map

Use this link ^ to see the Famous 1927 Admiralty Map

Matching the Show

Episode 6- A Mercy

This is it, folks! The LAST of the bottle episodes. Next one is going to make me go absolutely insane...

Location 6- The Ships in January 1848 (70.055, -98.4)

Date: January 10th 1848

Nighttime - 13h 01 min

Daylight - None

Twilight - 9h 59 min

Sunset: N/A- Sunrise: N/A

So! This episode is the beginning of trying to understand when and what the fuck is going on. :')

Timestamp declares it is January 1848

Following timestamp announces this is 2 weeks after Episode 5, which we put between December 14 and December 20 in Part 1 (will need to edit.. :') ). First proposed date: Between December 28 and January 3

Fitzjames tells us it's 1 week from Sunrise (17th Jan for that latitude) which brings our Second proposed date: January 10

Lady Jane's Christmas Pudding (Hear, Hear) was offered to the men the week before. So, either it was not served on December 25th or the Third proposed date is: January 1st.

Considering that 1. and 3. are undeniable, I must conclude that my assessment of the timeline for episode 5 in Part 1 was Incorrect It would, therefore, put the death of Blanky's leg closer to December 27th

I must also conclude that January 10th is our date for the beginning of the episode and that the pudding was served on Jan 6th for Epiphany rather than Christmas. (This seemed so important to me for some reason...)

Now! For Location!

In part 1, I used the proposed location from the 1927 admiralty map for the position of the ships in Sept 1846 and their position in May/Jun 1847 to calculate the travel speed of the ships drifting with the Pack. Which was about... 0.04 miles per day.

Considering that there is 232 days between May 24 1847 and Jan 10 1848, the ships would have drifted approx 9.3 miles SW from their summer position (Location 3 - 70.15, -98.30). and, now, I wanted to make an additional extrapolation from the known position in April 22nd but... well, you'll see that was more difficult than expected when we move on to episode 7 so... instead, we'll use that 9.3 Miles SW from May 24 1847, so, about near (70.055, -98.4).

To be noted that I tried to pinpoint Location 6 for my own litle fun because it is not that relevant. They're in the pack, that's it. Their position in April is much more interesting. Also to note, you'll see when I get to Location 7 that my proposition puts Location 6 closer to Location 3, which is counterintuitive considering that it would mean that the pack drifted much faster between Jan and April (3 months) than between June and Jan (6 months). I propose to revise Location 6 for a future edit of this fun rabbit hole. The 0.04miles a day for the pack drift may have been accelerated during the summer months (June to September), even without a full thaw. For future consideration...

Thankfully, we remain in the vicinity of Location 6 for the next event so we don't have to go through all of THAT again... :')

Date: January 16th to January 17th 1848

Nighttime - 12h 34 min

Daylight - 34 min

Twilight - 9h 52 min

Sunset: 12:01 pm- Sunrise: 11:27 am

Jacko dies of lead poisoning

Carnivale goes up in flame and we're all sad.

For the Death Count, now...

Lt. Irving gives us a count of 116 men onboard the ships

This sounds inexact... At the end of December, by my count, we had 121 men still "alive" on the expedition (22 Officers and 99 men). 8 of those are on a vacation in the Fairholme party (Not counted as dead yet). This would mean we have 113 men on Terror and Erebus.

DEATH COUNT: 7 (Total: 13)

19 Officers and 95 Men remaining

To be Noted: The 3 dead officers I counted are the doctors and since no other officers names are mentioned, I assumed that was it... We will adjust when we get to VPN.

Episode 6- Horrible from Supper

There we go, folks! This is where I began to go absolutely INSANE trying to figure out all of this... Thank God this one is easy for the dates... and wow, I'm sure there is actually a paper for all that stuff somewhere out there but... I was either too lazy to find it and this is what I will die doing instead OR it's VERY obscure and I might as well do it myself...

ONWARD TO

Location 7- The Ships in April 1848 (69.88, -98.57)

Date: April 22nd 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 25 min

Twilight - 6h 35 min

Sunrise: 3:52 am Sunset: 9:16 pm

Departure from Ships

And now I'm going to go absolutely rabid about the location...

I have a problem and it might have to do with my lack of understanding of how coordinates work, which renders this whole post frustrating... The thing is... the thing is. The position given by Fitzjames on his amendment of the VPN is... I don't understand it... he says they landed at 69°37'42.0"N 98°41'00.0"W (69.63, -98.68) but then proceed in saying that they left the ships 5 Leagues NNW of the Cairn (Location 4 - 69.66, -98.27).

(See the summary map for episode 6)

Oh, Jimmy FitzJimmy... That... that's not a NNW-SSE line... :') It's also not 15 miles... Did they have different Latitudes in 1845? I would need to research...

So, anyway, I will, instead try to figure out what would be the location based on the 5 league (I expect this was an approximated distance) and here is my proposition for a rough Location 7 (69.88, -98.57 or 69°52'N, 98°34'W)

For comparison purposes, the position from the VPN will be identified in yellow in the summary map.

Next Location: That would Location 8! Poor Lt Fairholmes party.

Location 8 - Fairholmes' Last Resting Place (69.72, -98.35)

Date: April 23th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 30 min

Twilight - 6h 30 min

Sunrise: 3:48 am Sunset: 9:18 pm

For the date: They have not yet reached Terror Camp and it looked to be either very early in the morning or late at night. I will suppose late at night, which would make the landing at Terror Camp to be made the next day. If Fitzjames and Crozier went to deposit the VPN the same day they arrived at TC, then this would make it April 24th.

For the Location: They mention that Fairholmes made 18 miles from the position the ships were at in June 1847 (Location 3 - 70.15, -98.30) and they had to find themselves in the path of Crozier and Co, close to the coast. Now, 18 miles... they certainly did not make the calculation on top of their head. From Part 1, we know that Gore had to travel 33.5 miles to get from the Ships in Location 3 to the Cairn in Location 4. 18 miles would have been a little bit over half-way there. In next image, I traced the path from Location 3 to Location 4 and Location 7 to Location 4 and you'll see why this is confusing:

Half-way from Location 3 to Location 4 would have been nowhere near to where Crozier and Co could have found Fairholmes. Maybe it wasn't as much as a straight line as I made it to be here or maybe Mr. Fitzjames is still confused about distances and Lat. Long position... Maybe I've been wrong this WHOLE TIME and they're counting in Nautical Miles and I'm about to throw my whole being out of the window.

Anyway, in order to preserve my Sanity, I will mark Location 8 at a very subjective position based on the flow of the episode rather than the information they gave... Now you understand why I became feral about this. Location 8 (69.72, -98.35) and that would be 30 miles from where the Ships were in June 1847...

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24)

Date: April 24th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 40 min

Twilight - 6h 20 min

Sunrise: 3:42 am Sunset: 9:23 pm

Date is given by the VPN - They arrive the day before going to Victory Point. Morfin dies.

For the Location, I would like to go back to our dear friend the 1927 Admiralty Map which identify where McClintock found the grave of Lt. J. Irving, a Camp and Many Relics. It is just slightly South East of Victory Point. Now, in the show, when Crozier and Fitzjames held hand, the first thing they saw was the Camp, vs when Gore climbed the ridge, he saw the Cairn.

Either the show moved the camp a little bit closer to the shore or they "landed" at a southerner position than Gore did. Either way, I feel that for a couple miles between the two points, we can go with the historical marker. Also, for my sanity. I will therefore arbitrarily put Location 9 at 69.644, -98.24, about 2 miles from the Cairn and I feel that this is a good location for it.

Last Location for Horrible from Supper (dear Lord)

Location 10 - Netsilik Massacre (69.62, -98.05)

Date: April 25th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 50 min

Twilight - 6h 10 min

Sunrise: 3:37 am Sunset: 9:28 pm

Date: Same as the VPN (from Episode 8)

Location: Irving was assigned to go East by Lt. Little. Therefore, we'll sorta assume that it was a due East.

Now, when they split from Hodgson, Irving mentions that they are an hour before they are due before they are to return to Terror. Assuming that they would be on a hunting trip of 6 hours (this seems long but probably necessary considering they are starting to grow desperate for fresh supplies), this would make their split at the 2h mark and Irving went South. Assuming they may have walked another 15 minutes (they were due to turn back to where they split in 30 min), then we're up to 2h 15min away from camp.

They did not seem to be walking in any kind of fast pace, that they might have stopped on the way and that they are on an uneven ground and tired from hauling their sledge to TC, I will assume a steady pace of 2.5 miles per hour. This would put them a generous 5.6 miles away from TC. (To be checked with Hickey story next episode) and therefore, Location 9 is (69.62, -98.05)

And with this, we are DONE for episode 7!

DISTANCES AND TRAVEL:

Loc 7 to Loc 8

Travel time - 2 complete days (arrival eod)

Travel Distance: 10.6 NM / 12 miles / 20 km

Average Travel Speed - 6 miles a day

Travel Condition - Hauling Sledges and following a track - Pack is now littered with Seracs. This must have been gruesome - Comparable speed to Gore's Party.

Loc 8 to Loc 9

Travel time - 1 day

Travel Distance: 5.1 NM / 6 miles / 9.5 km

Average Travel Speed - 6 miles a day

Travel Condition - Hauling Sledges and following a track - High Ridge - Half distance on shale

Loc 9 to Loc 10

Travel Time - 2hours 15min

Travel Distance: 5.6 miles

Average Travel Speed - 2.5mph

Travel Condition: On foot, no heavy load, hunting - Not a straight line.

DEATH COUNT: 1 (Morfin) + 8 (Fairholmes) + 2 (Irving/Farr) (Total: 26)

14 Officers and 89 Men remaining

7 Men remaining on Ships

14 Officers and 82 men in Terror Camp

Episode 8 - Terror Camp Clear

Buckle up Buttercups, the horrors are coming...

So, first, let's do with the date. The next few movements are all the same date:

Date: April 25th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 17h 50 min

Twilight - 6h 10 min

Sunrise: 3:37 am Sunset: 9:28 pm

What I want to figure out is the hour by hour of that day ahah

Location 4 -The Cairn (69.66, -98.27)

Crozier and Fitzjames deposit the famous VPN.

Now, I could go on an on about how confusing the VPN was for me but I'll leave it at that... I would like to make the exercise of counting the dead men tho :)

Officers - 9

Franklin, Gore, Dr. Stanley, Dr. McDonald, Dr. Peddie, Fairholme, Hornby, 1 unnamed (Fairholme party or Carnivale)

Men - 15

Braine, Hartnell, Darlington, Morfin, Orren, Young, Torrington, Strong, Evans, Heather, Bryant, + 4 (Fairholme party or Carnivale)

So, as a note, that would not work because we have 7 deaths from the Carnival (4 named) and 8 from Fairholme (1 named) and I have only 5 unnamed left to make the VPN 24. *sigh*

MOVING ON

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24)

And then back to

Location 10 - Netsilik Massacre (69.62, -98.05)

And THEN Back to

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24)

So let's see how much walking Crozier has made today from the beginning of the episodes: 11 miles!

1.3 miles from Cairn to TC

4.9 miles from TC to Location 10 (Bird's reach)

Now we know that the average man walks 3mph

Crozier would have spent maybe 45 minutes to walk back from the cairn with Fitzjames (making brotherhood and stuff)

And then he would have to pace himself for Blanky to follow to Location 10, so, perhaps 2mph. - 2h 30 min to make it to Location 10.

In total, Crozier would have walked at least 6h that day and 12.5 miles

If the hunting parties were sent out from 6 am, that would mean that Irving and Farr would have been murdered around 8h30. He needed time to do his business, maybe 10 minutes (what are the Netsilik doing in the meantime?) By the time that Hickey runs back and forth to get Hodgson, who had gone in another direction, we can assume another 30 min, it is now 9:10 am when the Netsilik are massacred. To go back to camp, I assume they would have walked at fast pace, dragging Irving and Farr on their sledge, they could have made it back in 1h 30min. It is now 10h40.

It looks like Fitzjames and Crozier went back as Hodgson was entering the camp again, or just about. so they would have left the Cairn at 10 am and they would have left the Camp for the Cairn maybe around 8 am.

SO!

Let's say there's a bit of shouting, going around, getting Irving on Goodsir's table... they leave to go BACK to Location 10 around 11 am and they reach it around 2:30 pm, make their 10 min investigation and then make their way back starting at 2:40 pm.

They are back just in time for supper around 5:20 pm.

Yep, they could have done all of that in one day. Which is EXACTLY what I wanted to check. What a trek...

Anyway, I think Hickey was scheduled to be hanged around 8pm. Good time to die.

DEATH COUNT: 32 + Pocock + 9 (unknown) (Total: 68)

61 Total remaining

7 Men remaining on Ships

40 with Crozier

11 Mutineers and 3 Reluctant (Hodgson, Goodsir, Diggle) (counted on the screen... and Golding who is going back and forth)

And now, before we go on to Episode 9, let's do an Interlude for how we're going to proceed moving forward:

How We Move Forward

Ok, here is what this section about:

So far, I've been using clues from the show and known historical facts to know where the Cold Boys were, how they got there and who was still around.

Now we enter absolute speculation.

on the subject of LOCATION

Yes, we have a fine map (thank you 1927 Admiralty Map) that let us know where all of the Franklin Artefacts had been found over the course of 75 years but y'all will soon understand when I say that this is where the show accuracy ends.

For one, the most recognizable spot for me is McClintock's Boat Place. And Welp! Maybe one could argue that it is where Hickey attempted his little fake ritual in Episode 10. To which I will answer: ah... probably not? But that is the ONLY scene that could make sense for McC's BP...

Then we have the two famous graves: Le VesconteOrHarry Goodsir and the Peglar Skeleton/Bridgens and we have to ask ourselves, how accurate did the showrunner /author wanted to be about the specific placement of these deaths... After all, a wasteland of shale is a wasteland of shale.

In anyway, I will go over each of the Locations from the 1927 map to try and match a potential scene.

On the subject of TIME:

Now, we no longer have the luxury of dates so we will need to rely on everything else to let us know of the passage of time.

Sunrise/Sunsets - Which will help us identify the overall months

Grooming - These men get beardy.

Health - Declination and recoveries

Travel speed - If locations are known, we can match the date if we suppose a travel speed.

On the subject of SURVIVORS:

I will not keep up with the count. We know they all died and the show did not actually keep track of them. There seem to be as many that left Terror Camp as there are when Peglar collapses. I was mostly interested in doing for episode 8 because I wanted to keep tab on how many left with Hickey, etc but it was just hell to manage for this part.

On the subject of GROUPS:

Now we have 2 groups, the Mutineers and the Frankliners (Crozier and Co). I assumed that Hickey was mostly following the Frankliners at a distance of 4-6 miles behind.

Now, we enter Hell.

Episode 9- The C, The C, The Open C

The episode opens on a known Location and date (thank God), Location

Location 9 - Terror Camp (69.644, -98.24)

Date: April 26th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 18h 01 min

Twilight - 5h 59 min

Sunrise: 3:32 am Sunset: 9:33 pm

They burn their dead.

I assumed this would be the next day because they're still gathering their deads. - Kinda brutal to ask them to walk the day after the attack.

40 Frankliners

14 Mutineers

Location 11/12 - Hodgson is Found

Mutineers Location (11): (69.56, -98.06)

Frankliners Location (12): (69.54, -98.14)

Date: April 27th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 18h 01 min

Twilight - 5h 59 min

Sunrise: 3:32 am Sunset: 9:33 pm

This one is the first difficulty because we need to match a time, an intention and a speed.

First, I would like to propose that this is either the 26th again or the 27th and I will argue for the 27th.

We find Hodgson as he is so famished that he eats his own boot. We can suspect that he would, indeed, be very hungry after having ran through the night from the Tuunbaq. But he would have had supper the night before AND having been on three quarter rations since January. I, of course, have never been hungry enough to resort to eating my shoes but I imagine that if I was in Hodgson situation, I would keep the edible boots for as long as I can. Would he be hungry enough to start eating leather on the morrow of the attack, or more likely 2 days later?

Also, the frost bite on his cheeks suggest he's been outside for at least night.

Hickey and Co have been pulling their sledge, probably for the first couple of hours after Tuunbaq's attack. The difficulty here is to determine how long they would have gone without stopping and how far they would have walked. We've established previously that a sledge party would make, at good pace, 5 miles per day, assuming 4-6 hours of pulling with relays of the men, therefore, we could convene that 1.3 mph could be an acceptable speed for them who are fleeing from Tuunbaq with at least 1 reluctant puller (Goodsir) and 1 confused (Diggle)

We've also established that men on foot without sledges can go from twice to three times that speed. And I suspect that when Fitzjames declared 23 unknown, they actually scouted around the camp to find those men. If scouts were sent in the morning while they were gathering the dead, then they could have made a 2-3 miles search radius. If I was Hickey, I would have pushed for at least 3 hours that night to avoid detection (if we say that Hickey was scheduled to be hanged around 8pm, then they stopped at 11pm). So! in the night of the 25th, they are, at least 3 miles out of the camp.

Now that they are out of camp, they need to do 2 things: 1) Rest. They would not have been able to pick up the pace right back first thing in the morning. 2) Put more distance between themselves and the Frankliners. I suspect that they would have made only 4hours of pulling on the 26th, bringing us just about a whooping 7.8 miles out of Terror Camp.

Finally, it is impossible to detect what time of the day it is when they find Hodgson but looking at the tired look of the crew, maybe an hour in? That would be another 1 miles. So let's average that they found Hodgson after running 9 miles out of Terror Camp

Now that we have a radius, let's talk about direction...

I think it is fair to say that Hickey would have followed the same route as Crozier, seeing that he specifically asked Gibson to take a map. But Crozier was going to follow the coast in case they saw leads. Would Hickey do the same?

3 more things to consider:

1. They left in the fog, without much visual clues to orient themselves. 2. They took the map but Hickey was hoping to get Hodgson on board for his navigational skills (or maybe that was BS, who knows).

3. Mid Episode 9, Tozer reports that the Frankliners are 6 miles AHEAD of them, even though Hickey left first. We'll revisit that later...

Now, on the subject of the third point, it is very possible that Hickey would have rested more often... I just think it's funnier to suggest that he spent the night going in the wrong direction and then just circled back to follow the Frankliners... They realised it when they sent Golding back to Crozier for spying.

So here's the 25th to 27th route I propose for Mr. Hickey:

Mr. Hodgson would have had wandered approx 5 miles SE of Terror Camp. (69.56, -98.06)

As for Crozier, well, I suggest they took this route starting on the 26th, making 5 miles per day and this is where they would be when Hodgson was found (69.54, -98.14), putting them 3 miles away from each group:

Now!

The next scene is where it starts getting hazy and we need to get imaginative in how we account for time past.

In the next scene, we se ethe frankliners are struggling to pull their sledges. Blanky is limping badly and, then, Mr. Fitzjames collapses, complaining about the Heat.

Location 13 - Fitzjames Collapses (68.94, -98.79)

Date: June 10th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h

Twilight - None

Sunrise: N/A Sunset: N/A

About the DATE:

Time indicator to consider:

The health of the crewman JFJ is sharing his boat with:

When we left Terror Camp, the sick tent was empty, except for Pocock. While the men where most likely not at the top of the health when they departed, no one was on the verge of dying. Looking at the crewman, he is not only sick, he is emaciated. A quick google search tells us that sickness can make one lose up to 5 pounds a week. Perhaps in, their condition, one could thinkthat the rate could be a bit higher, say... 6 lb? From the crew for which we have the information, we deduce that they were, on average, 5' 6'' so we can use that as a reference to suppose the weight of that sailor. If we assume a BMI borderline to underweight when leaving Terror Camp, we would have weight, maybe... 120 pounds?

Now, severely underweight would put him at 95 pounds, which would be a drop of 20 pounds. Assuming 6 lb, that would be a guesstimate of 3 weeks and a half for him to deteriorate... let's give them a chance and say a month and a half since Terror Camp.

I think that's reasonable... JFJ didn't look great after the Tuunbaq attack but that shirtless scene proved that he was still quite fit.

About the Travel Speed:

See after Location 19

About the Location:

See after Location 19

Location 14 - Gibson's death (68.860, -98.73)

Date: June 27th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 24h

Twilight - None

Sunrise: N/A Sunset: N/A

About the DATE:

Time indicator: Facial hair. Courtesy of not having much shaving available, the Mutineers are looking quite rugged. Let's discuss the hairiest: Mr. Goodsir and Lt. Hodgson.

Hodgson starts his time with the Mutineers with a 2 day shadows between his muttonchops. Same for Mr. Goodsir.

See Below the Before/After

And now, huh... wow... that changes a man... I'd say this is looks to be about.. errr... medium beard? According to menhairstylestoday.com, this would take 1 to 2 months to grow at a rate of half an inch a month. Yeah, I can believe these are 2 month old beards. So, there!

Location? Speed travel? Well, I'll stop you right there.. I don't know yet.

Location 15 - Fitzjames' Death (68.78, -98.21)

Date: July 28th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 20h 50 min

Twilight - 3h 10 min

Sunrise: 2:11 am Sunset: 11:01 am

Time Indicator: More Hair. For this one, I will trust the hair because I somehow think the Frankliners would have kept themselves more groomed than the Mutineers.

Taking the angle into account, this is, what... 1.5inch? 2 inch?

Hair can grow at about 0.5 in a month. So, 3 months since Terror Camp.

Time Indicator: Crews' health: It is very evident that they're all getting thinner, sicker but Fitzjames and (most surprisingly) his boat mate are still alive! Considering the risk of infection and the progression of scurvy... it can't have been more than a couple of weeks since Fitzjame's collapse but, not, like, the next day? Can a doctor please stand up for this?

Time Indicator: The amount of food left.

No. I will NOT go there. There's enough math being done wtf...

Location 16 - The NorWest Passage (68.7, -98.06)

Date: July 28th 1848

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 20h 46 min

Twilight - 3h 14 min

Sunrise: 2:13 am Sunset: 10:58 am

Finally, finally! We have it! A Date, AND a location! :D Thank you Mr. Blanky!

So, this is the day after JFJ's death, June 28th.

On Blanky's map, we can read known locations: McGillivray Bay, Pt. W. Smith... Congratulations Mr. Blanky :') You are a true hero.

Supposing he can see McGillivray Bay from where he sits, he would find the Passage at Location 16 (68.7, -98.06)

And wow... does that make me feel like finding my own NW Passage, being able to reconnect all those lost locations from before :')

Back to location 15! Blanky would probably not have walked all that much, given he was in pain and only wanted to draw Tuunbaq to him and toward the Ice. I'd be generous and give him a good 5 miles before he had to sat down. From what Lt. Little reported before they had to stop for Fitzjames, the ice was to the west so we'll assume Mr Blanky walked south west while the party proceeded south east. This would put Location 15 at (68.78, -98.21)

Location 17 - Hospital Camp (68.68, -97.74)

Date: August 3rd

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 19h 33 min

Twilight - 4h 27 min

Sunrise: 2:48 am Sunset: 10:21 pm

Peglar collapses

See Location 17 reasoning for date of the camp

As for Position, well, we're just going to be a little off out of

Location 17 - Bridgens (68.70, -97.95)

Date: August 10th

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 18h21

Twilight - 5h 39 min

Sunrise: 3:23 am Sunset: 9:45 pm

Basically, we all agree that Bridgens is the Peglar Skeleton. Thank god I know where that is! Now, it is interesting that there was a paper published in 2022 about the real location of the Peglar Skeleton (assuming McClintock took his lat and long wrong) but since we are dealing with a 2018 show, we'll go with McClintock's account.(68.70, -97.95)

Sweet, now, about the TIMING

Considering where Location 15 put us, we were quite near the point of collapse for Peglar. I think we could give them a two more days of pulling before it's poor Henry Peglar's turn. No other reason than having previously established that there is a MUCH slower pace now (News is courtesy of Lt. Little) and they left Fitzjames' grave roughly 10 miles from Bridgens' last sighting . I propose the timeline to be thus: Peglar collapse on August 3rd and dies on August 10th. He didn't look like he had wasted away very long. Bridgens immediately leave the party, travel a couple of miles and lay down to die. Has he is seen going in the direction Golding came from (the Mutineer's camp, North), I assume that the Hospital camp is now further south than where the Peglar Skeleton was found.

Loocation 18 - It's Rat Meal Time (68.73, -97.99)

Date: August 3rd

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 19h 33 min

Twilight - 4h 27 min

Sunrise: 2:48 am Sunset: 10:21 pm

About the TIMING:

I suspect Hickey made Goodsir cut Billy the same day they pitched their tent, just to assure his dominance while so close to the Frankliners (6 miles out).

Cripse.... that would have been a 1 month old dead body to eat...

This gives us a location: (68.73, -97.99)

Now, the problem I am having is this... Night falls when Hodgson come to tell his little church story... There will be no dark sky until Mid to late August... so I am mostly going to believe that was only twilight.

Location 19 - Crozier Ambushed (68.67, -97.84)

Date: August 10th

Nighttime - None

Daylight - 18h21

Twilight - 5h 39 min

Sunrise: 3:23 am Sunset: 9:45 pm

About the TIMING:

Bridgens lays down to die the day Crozier is taken. I don't think he moved from there.

About the Location: Close to Hospital camp, by the shore.

NOW HERE'S A THING TO MAKE YOU CONFUSED:

Sophia Cracroft found snow in London in August 1848?

Blanky was still waiting for the Tuunbaq after they pitched tents for Hospital camp?

I think these two scenes are just out of order and for dramatic effect: Basically pitching the fate of Crozier failing to save anyone.

SO! Now that we know where 99 days of walking (April 27th (Location 12) to August 3rd (Location 16 - Hospital camp)), we can average the pace of the walk.

First, let's establish some distances:

About 100 miles, then! I would like to propose the following pace, to take account for the time passed and how tired the men would become. So this would be a decreasing pace and accounting for camping time due to weather (there should still be monstrous hail and blizzard until June), etc.

15 miles first miles at 3mph = 5 days

2 day of rest - 3 days of bad weather

20 miles at 2mph = 10 days

2 day of rest + 2 days of bad weather

25 miles at 1.5 mph = 20 days

3 days of rest + 3 days of bad weather

40 miles at 1mph = 40 days

3 days of bad weather + 6 days of rest

This would put Location 13 - Fitzjames Collapses 60 miles out of Location 12 (45 days travel time) around (68.94, -98.79), right next to Terror Bay :')

I'm also very happy that this would actually match the position of a camp and 2 graves from Halls and Schwatka's expedition! Sometimes I feel like I'm a genius but right now, I swear I'm just holding on for dear life...

and, if we assume that Hickey kept the pace with the Frankliners, this would put

Location 14 - Gibson's death 70 miles out of Location 11 (60 days travel time) around (68.860, -98.73)

Here's the summary Map for Ep 9:

Conclusion: Episode 9 was a mess and this is 12 hours of work...

Part 3 will be for Episode 10.

[faceless-ghostt]

well... welcome back to Meme redraw hell ig. Pt 5

will these ever end? idk, probably ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌

(references and rambles under the cut)

I'm still not completely happy with how I draw Thad but I'm getting there slowly, incredibly slowly. Same with Kon, he's not there yet but he's much closer. and I swear that isn't the usual outfit I draw him in, I swear I can do better ToT

Mindless rambles about my struggles with designs aside I've been trying to post more, mainly to get me back in the habit of drawing, but I am working on a larger, not large, but larger project that may or may not have to do with a Young Justice 98 and FNAF mash up and one of the characters is absolutely fucking me over. So I'm just doing easy drawings until my brain agrees with my arms enough to actually draw what I want to draw. I don't think these drawings are things I'll put on the Internet because they are just random drawings, but I'll probably share them to the YJ98 discord server. but I personally think this is a fun AU I am currently making and it will be forced on the world soon, kicking and screaming.

idk why I'm even rambling, probably because it's 2:30 in the morning and my brain is melting from multiple weeks of shitty sleep but ajdgakudgshsixhsv

uh, shameless plug moment, Join the YJ98 discord server that is pinned on my profile, it's fun and great and I want to yap with more YJ fans!

[irvingcoded]

View on Twitter

please feel free to send me some for warm-ups here, too!!

[is-not-a-bell]

Sleepy King

The Justice League Dark caught wind of a cult trying to summon the Ghost King. A being with power so terrible and great, that all of the chaotic Infinite Realms feared him. A true tyrant. Long ago it took the effort of ghosts equal to gods to seal him away into a permeant slumber.

And now this cult wishes to wake him and bring him to the living realm. It was a race against the clock to find the ritual site and all members were called on board, magic or not. Even Constantine looked stressed.

They did find the site.

But it was too late, the ritual was completed. The entire inner circle of runes glowed before being swallowed in a column of green light. The air filled with static and a ringing that made Supergirl crumble to the ground.

The light dissipated, but there was no great figure or being of pure evil. Instead there was a boy, a teenager. He laid on the ground curled up in his sleep. He was a ghost no doubt, dressed in regal clothing.

Despite this when he stirred, everyone froze. It seemed the cold hard ground woke him up. He got up slowly and yawned, revealing his sharp fangs. Once sat up he opened his bleary eyes to look around. He looked confused and tired, really tired.

"Where am I?" He mumbled. "I was trying to get some sleep." Constantine internally screaming, latches onto that last sentence. He glances over to Batman. He caught that last part too. Batman approaches calmly and crouches down in front of the boy king. Hardening his resolve, Batman takes on a gentle tone.

"Hey kiddo, sorry we woke you. Lets get you back to bed yeah?" The boy nodded in agreement. He pulled himself to his feet before looking around in a circle. "Where did my blanket go?" He asked rather sadly. Batman is quick to shed his own cape and drape it over him. "You can borrow my cape until we get you a new one." He nodded again, pulling the black fabric around himself.

John quickly summoned a portal door, while Batman led the King through it. John threw looks around at everyone. Everyone could tell he was mouthing the words. 'Find me a fucking blanket now'

Running on the logic of getting the king away from Earth, away from graves and the undead, that could give him power. The portal led to the Watch Tower.

Batman took advantage of the King's bleary state to send a base wide alert for all noncritical members to evacuate immediately. With a priority that death adjacent members leave first. "The stars are pretty." Bruce looked at the boy staring out the window in wonder. He almost looked like a normal kid, almost.

"Yeah they are, it's pretty late so we should get you back to bed." He nodded, going along with Batman's gentle coaxing.

He takes the boy to an unused bedroom. Making sure the room isn't dusty and that lights are dimmed. He glances back to see about a dozen different leaguers all holding blankets, one thought to bring extra pillows. The bed was pretty barren with only a single pillow and a thin bedsheet. So Bruce took a thick duvet, one of the fluffier blankets and a second pillow from his team before shooing them away.

The boy ended up keeping his cape, mumbling how it was warm. He tucked the boy in, before quietly exiting the room and turning off the light. He was pretty sure the King fell back to sleep before he even reached the light switch.

After the door shut, he made direct eye contact with John. "Constantine." They needed to figure out what the hell was going on.

[stealingyourbones]

"This better get on the front page" Lois mutters under her breath. She's currently hiding in a crate that's being transported into a secretive "government" facility that calls themselves the GIW. No official data has been released as to what that acronym stands for. A new facility of theirs opened up in Metropolis and Lois is determined to find out what this organization is doing behind closed doors. From the rumors she's heard it sounds like it's Project Stargate level of crazy. This might get her another Pulitzer Prize.

Lois feels the truck holding her, and many many pallets of lead lined crates, pull to a stop. After that it's a blur of muffled words spoken by GIW employees as they unload the truck. Her crate gets picked up by a forklift and moved somewhere deep into the facility. Perfect.

After ten agonizing minutes, the forklift stops and lowers the crate into an unknown room and drives away.

Lois waits.

She has a thermal reader to detect if anyone is inside the room with her that (thank you Bruce) works through two inches of steel and lead.

The only thing she saw that was noticeable was an oddly large cold spot in an adjacent room.

Well it's now or never.

Lois moves cautiously, slowly opening the lid of the crate from underneath just enough to crawl herself through and then slowly put the lid back, careful to not make a sound.

She turns away from the crate and goes to investigate that cold spot.

Past a door, through a short hallway, and inside a high security cell, Lois saw the source of the temperature anomaly.

It's a boy. A boy no older than her son… A boy who was emaciated, collared, handcuffed, and covered in gauze.

A boy who looked near identical to her son's best friend, Damian.

[buck-star]

Little perv | Stucky

Co-Written with @lanabuckybarnes

// Pairing //

Stepbrother!Bucky Barnes x Stepsister!Reader x BestFriend!Steve Rogers

// Summary //

You didn’t mean to walk into Steve but when you do and he tells your stepbrother about it, they will teach you a lesson how to be a good girl.

// Wordcount //

4.956 Words

// Warnings //

18+, Minors DNI, dubcon, stepcest, smut, threesome, both boys are dicks and cute, they are both huge, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (male!receiving), deep throating, choking, crying during sex, degrading, unprotected p in v, anal play, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, spitting, slapping, praises, pet names (sweetheart, babygirl), aftercare

// Authors Note //

This oneshot is co-written with @lanabuckybarnes, I wanna say thank you bbg, for listening to all the ideas, coming up with your own ideas. And especially for helping me to write it while I freaked out. This wouldn’t be as filthy and it wouldn’t even exist with your help, so thanks for writing this together with me.

// Events //

Build-A-Bucky-Bingo | BABB055 | December | Sensory Play | @buckybarnesevents | LGBTQ+ Bingo | G4 | Bisexual Threesome | @lgbtqbingo | Stucky Bingo: Round 5 | 5089 | B2 | Kink: Double Penetration | @stuckybingo

// Masterlist | Stucky Masterlist //

You groaned as you heard the shower running; your body was aching and you were in dire need of the relaxing feel of the water over your body—low and behold just as you’d grabbed your towels Bucky’s friend Steve had stolen the shower from you.

To say you were irritated was an understatement, you’d been dealing with shit like this ever since your dad’s new girlfriend moved in with her man-child son. Bucky was the quarterback of your college football team, a complete catch for any stupid girl silly enough to believe his charming eyes and wicked tongue, which you found out was quite a lot of girls; almost every weekend he’d hop out to a party and either come home reeking of sex and booze or with a girl clung to his hip, sucking dark marks into his thick neck as his large hands ran over her body— they would barely make it into his bedroom before she was moaning like a pornstar and he was growling like a fucking animal.

You suspected all that fucking booze and constant bashing into other burly men had gotten to his brain because he had a teasing, arrogant, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that rolled off his body in waves. And by god did he love making you squirm.

The first time it happened you brushed it off, after all, he was probably so used to walking around in only his sweatpants; they hung low, the waistband of his briefs easily visible, accentuating his Adonis belt and soft happy trail that sunk below his pants.

You thought you’d stopped your gawking quick enough but Bucky had caught you—and you were in for it now.

Ever since that day Bucky had been more relaxed in the clothing department when he was around you, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d worn a shirt around you; his corded muscles rippling under his tanned skin, biceps bigger than your head bulging as he brought his water bottle up to his plush lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped down the cold liquid. He tried his best to bite back the shit-eating grin threatening to plaster over his face as he shuffled by you, tall frame looming over you, your ass rubbing against the front of his sweats ‘accidentally’. After a quick glance your way the smile broke free, you’d stopped stirring your tea, head dipped to hide your reddened face behind your locks of hair but no amount of effort could wipe the mortification you felt and Bucky was loving it.

And now he’d even roped his friend into this absurdity.

Noting that the shower had finally stopped you gathered your towels and other toiletries in your arms and shuffled down the hall, bare feet slapping against the hardwood as you walked. Bucky’s room door lay adjacent, shooting noises and cursing flowing through the crack as he played whatever goddamn game that had him up at 4am most nights.

You were so distracted by Bucky you neglected to knock on the bathroom door to make sure it was well and truly empty.

“Well, what do we have here?” Steve’s cocky voice broke you from your trance, his hair pushed back and a towel hung low on his hips showing off his washboard-like abs; he wasn’t as wide as Bucky but definitely just as built. His blue eyes watched you from the mirror above the sink.

Your mouth gaped and shut like a fish out of water as you stuttered over your words, your brain shutting down at the worst possible time ‘Stupid fucking brain’.

“Never knew Buck's new step sis was such a fucking perv” he turned, hand gripping the waist of his towel as he stalked forward until you stumbled over your own feet, your items falling as you reached out instinctively to grab at something close to you— unfortunately that happened to be Steve’s towel.

“Wow! Tryna strip me now huh?” He chuckled, thick fingers gripping your wrist, his towel remaining in place thanks to his earlier hold.

“No-I” you tried to speak but his stormy eyes shot you down quickly.

“Sureee” he smirked, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek “We’ll see what Bucky has to say about this” he finished and before you could react he’d dragged your body down the hall and into Bucky’s room.

“I—I don’t think Bucky wants to know anything about it. And I— uhm I’m it was an accident to walk into the bathroom while you are still in here,” you mumbled, every thought washed out of your mind.

Steve chuckled, pushing you away from him causing you to stumble through the room until you were standing in the middle of it, facing Bucky with widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know your sister is such a perv, Buck. Came into the bathroom and when I asked her about it she wanted to take away the towel around my waist,” the blonde-haired man laughed. He walked closer to you, his hands gripping your waist before he pushed you closer to Bucky who was sitting on the bed.

Bucky’s legs were dangling down off the edge of it, he smirked at you with that shitty knowing and arrogant smirk. You blushed softly when he held his hands out for you to grab, when you didn’t take his hands Steve pushed you closer until Bucky was able to grasp at you and pull you closer to him.

“Are you that much of a needy girl?” Bucky cooed, pulling you down until you were seated on his thigh. His thick muscles were pressing perfectly against your throbbing cunt and you couldn’t help yourself, your hips slowly grinding you on his leg. “Oh, you really are a needy little whore, say it, babygirl, tell us that you’re such a horny little bitch for us.”

You whimpered, his thick thigh pressed against your pussy was too much for you to think straight. Bucky laughed darkly, his hands making their way to your waist and he helped you to grind on him.

“Stevie, look how fucking desperate she is, such a fucking whore for us. Say it, babygirl! Say it!” Bucky said in a stern tone. When you still didn’t answer his demands he stopped your movements. You whined, throwing your head back and hitting Steve’s lower stomach. You didn’t even realize he was so close to you but your head was resting against him now. “Fucking say it, bitch.”

“I—“ you cried out when Steve grasped your throat, his fingers were digging into your soft flesh and your eyes widened immediately. He didn’t let go of your throat, his fingers were digging more into your soft skin and you gasped. “I’m a whore for you.”

Both men chuckled, Steve loosened his grip and you inhaled deeply. Bucky still didn’t let you move on his thigh, he was looking up at Steve, nodding towards him and before you could have asked something you were turned around and tossed onto Bucky’s bed.

“Good girl, now ask daddy to let you suck his cock,” the brunette smirked, he was now standing next to Steve, both admiring you shamelessly. It felt a bit like you were nothing but a piece of meat for them, and maybe you were right now.

You didn’t answer him, your eyes just looking at them while you were placed on your back. “Think she wants to be punished, what do you think, Buck?”

A low groan left Bucky’s lips, he placed his hands on the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them slowly down. Your eyes wander over his toned chest and abs to his hands which were going to reveal his hardening cock. Steve was making his way around the bed, one of his hands on his cock, palming himself and feeling himself getting harder underneath the towel.

Bucky pushed his sweatpants down eventually, his boxer briefs following and his cock sprung free. The tip was red, leaking with pre-cum and you whimpered once more. Your mind was too dizzy to care what both men were going to do with you, you just needed them, needing them to help the ache in your pussy.

“Open your mouth and suck daddy’s cock like the fucking little whore you are,” Bucky groaned, walking a step closer. He lowered himself slightly, his hand tapped your cheek lightly and you did as you were told. With a grunt he pushed his cock into your mouth, immediately thrusting forward when the warmth of your mouth surrounded his cock. Bucky couldn’t — he didn’t want to hold back his thrusts, he wanted you to take him completely into your sweet little mouth.

Steve who had settled on the bed, spread your legs apart, he’d taken off your pants already, the only fabric between him and your pussy was the thin sopping material of your panties. Steve ran his fingers up and down your inner thigh, inching closer to your soaked pussy. “Fucking soaked, making a mess in her panties.”

You moaned in response, Bucky’s cock moved in and out of your mouth, causing you to gag around his length. He didn’t care how much you sputtered and pushed his cock deeper into you, tears were streaming over your face and you quietly sobbed when he hit the back of your mouth over and over again.

Steve’s fingers were now circling your pussy, the fabric still covering your wetness but the intensity of his movements made you go crazy. He pinched your clit through your panties and you tried to move away from him but he held you in place. Steve then slipped his fingers under your panties, before deciding it wasn’t good enough and ripping the fabric into two pieces and throwing them away.

Any type of protest was muffled by Bucky’s cock, his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue and you hummed your satisfaction. “Yeah, that’s what you like, huh? Fucking desperate slut needs to be punished for your being so needy.”

Bucky guided his cock in and out of your mouth, loving the way your tears fell down your cheeks while he hit your throat with every push of his cock into your mouth. He groaned, his hand making its way around your throat and he squeezed your soft flesh slightly. Your eyes shot open, terror written in the color when he squeezed more and more.

You wiggled, trying to pull away from him but your stepbrother held you in place. He beamed down at you, then he loosened his grip around your throat and removed his cock, giving you a moment to breathe deeply. With a rough laugh he brought his hand to your jaw, and with a bit of pressure he made you open your mouth. Bucky was then spitting into your mouth, looking at the way you involuntarily swallowed his saliva.

“Fuck, you little bitch. You’re so fucking desperate, swallowing my spit like you’re gonna do with my cum,” he groaned, placing his cock back in your mouth, thrusting harshly and fast in and out of you.

Steve worked one of his fingers into your tight cunt, his fingers were moving between your folds for a while, gathering your arousal. But now he just needed to stretch out so he would be able to fit his huge, veiny cock into you. “You’re so fucking tight. Bucky didn’t know your little stepsis felt like a virgin.”

“Oh don’t worry, she might’ve not fucked a boy yet but I know she fucked herself, haven’t you, babygirl?” Bucky cooed. Steve chuckled, removing his finger before he was pressing his finger against your entrance once again. His thick finger entered you and he immediately pushed another finger into you, causing you to moan loudly — or at least as loud as possible with your stepbrother's cock down your throat. “Have heard you moaning my name like a desperate slut, fucking yourself with your small fingers, not even comparable to my cock, babygirl.”

You moaned around his huge length. Steve curled both of his fingers inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again. The attempt to throw your head back was stopped by the bed and you only arched your back, pressing more against the blonde-haired man’s fingers.

“Don’t you dare to cum you fucking whore,” Bucky growled, his hand back around your throat and squeezing once again. Your eyes rolled back, pleasure growing inside of you especially when you felt Bucky’s cock twitch in your mouth, his balls slapping against your face.

You whined when Steve slipped his fingers out of your tight entrance, pushing one of his digits back into you so he felt you clench around him. “So tight, sweetheart. Can’t wait to fill you with my cock.”

Before you could respond in any way Bucky removed his cock, smirking at Steve like he got the best idea he could ever get into his mind. His tongue was poking out, gliding across his lips when he took a step back and grasped your hair, causing you to hiss. Bucky made you sit up, your front to Steve while your back was towards Bucky.

“Take off your shirt, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty tits, poor things, hidden by your clothes,” Steve mumbled, sitting on his knees in front of you. Your hands shook when you brought them to the hem of your shirt, slowly taking it off and revealing your bare body to the men.

Steve’s hands immediately reached out to place them on top of your breast, squeezing the soft flesh. A low moan escaped his lips the moment he saw your lips parting and a quiet moan leaving your perfect, pink lips. He played with your nipples, twirling them between his fingers until you were nothing but a whimpering and moaning mess.

“Get on your knees, sweetheart. Be a good girl, huh?” You moved a bit, getting on your knees and giving Steve better access between your wet folds. Bucky undresses himself as well, getting on the bed behind you, his big hands caressing your smaller frame.

Bucky and Steve were huge compared to you, and you between them made you feel even smaller. Their hands were roaming over your body, arousal was dripping out of your cunt, slowly wetting your inner thighs. You squirmed slightly, you wanted them to touch you properly, you needed them to fuck you.

“Impatient, babygirl? Do you know that bad girls get punished?” Bucky whispered into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He kissed down your neck, biting into your flesh before he licked over it and kissed the spot. “Are you going to be good for us?”

You nodded your head, letting it fall back against Bucky’s shoulder. Steve stroked his cock slowly, his thumb brushed over his plush head and he groaned while he smeared his pre-cum all over his tip and shaft. He then got closer to you, his cock placed in between your legs and he pushed his hips forward. Steve was grinding his length through your folds, your pussy clenched around nothing while his rock-hard cock pressed against your clit and he brushed his cock over it with every movement.

“Doing so good, sweetheart. Do you want my cock?” He asked, grinning at you when you nodded. Your head was still resting against Bucky’s shoulder. Just a moment after you nodded Steve’s hand flew across your face. Your eyes widened and tears built up in them, slowly rolling down your cheeks. Steve’s handprint appeared on your cheek, red and burning. “Shhh— I’m sorry, sweetheart. But you need to use your words.”

Steve mumbled before he pressed his soft, plump lips against your burning cheek. You hissed, but Bucky’s broad body behind you held you in place. To make it up to you, Steve grasped his cock and pushed it slowly into you, his cock stretched you out and you whined.

“Too big, Steve. Please, too big,” you mumbled, shutting your eyes tight. Your hands gripped whatever was close to you, his thick shoulders. Your fingers were digging into his flesh when he bottomed out inside you.

“Doing so good for us. Fuck, you’re right, sweetheart. Could immediately come in your pussy, you’re squeezing me so much already,” the blonde-haired man said, smirking when he looked at you.

Steve gave you a moment to adjust to his size, playing with your nipples. He twirled them between his fingers, squeezed your breasts and sucked softly at your sensitive skin. His cock was resting deep in your pussy, walls clenched violently around him and he needed to focus to not come immediately inside of you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was looking for some lube in his drawer, squirting some of the cold liquid on his fingers. He then placed his fingers on your even tighter hole, smearing the lube around before he pushed one of his digits against your tight muscle ring. You shake your head, not sure if you want him to fuck your ass but when Steve slowly moved his cock you melted into their embrace and let Bucky work his finger into your puckered hole.

Whines and moans were all that left your lips, desperate and needy to be fucked like a slut — exactly what both men did, at least when you were prepared for Bucky’s cock in your ass.

Bucky pushed his digit into you, and you welcomed him immediately, sucking him deeper inside you. A low chuckle left his lips and he looked at his best friend. “Fucking slut is sucking my finger into her ass like she is made to be fucked. Like to be fucked by two men, huh?”

You didn’t answer, too deep into the pleasure both of them gave you. Steve’s cock was twitching in your tight pussy, the feeling of him in you, making you still feel like he would rip you apart and Bucky’s finger moving deeper into your ass before he added another didn’t help your fogged mind.

“B—Bucky, please. N—Need you.” You weren't sure what came over you, your pussy was already hurting with Steve’s cock inside but Bucky would ruin your ass. It would hurt a lot more would he push in especially when you’re not stretched out with his fingers, but the pleasure you felt was just too good to wait for him to work you open for his pretty but huge cock.

“He has to stretch your tight ass before he can push into you, sweetheart. We don’t want you to have too much pain when we fuck you, it’s not just about us, it’s also about you,” Steve told you, his hips slowly moving against yours but just so slightly that you could cry out frustrated. The tip of his head was hitting your sweet spot with every movement and you felt the knot in your belly already tightening but he stopped his movements once again.

Bucky worked three of his fingers into your ass, he scissored them, stretching you out for his cock. And then he pulled them out of you, smirking about the frustrated whine that left your lips. “Needy, aren’t we, babygirl?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the tip of his cock against your entrance. You wiggled your ass, trying to push against him but Steve grabbed your waist and held you in place.

Bucky grasped the lube once again, this time he squirted it onto his hard cock. Without warning he entered your puckered hole. Your eyes widened, your breath hitched and you felt the pain appear in your ass. This wasn’t quite comfortable, especially not with Steve’s cock pressing against the thin wall between his and Bucky’s cock inside of you.

“No— too—“ you got interrupted by another harsh slap but this time on your ass and Bucky was the one who brought his hand down against your skin.

“It will fit, we will make it fit and you will take us like the good fucking whore you are!” His voice was stern and not even Steve’s soft touches against your breasts and cheek didn’t help against the pain in your ass.

You nodded, letting him slide his dick inside of you. Both men were balls deep inside of you, giving you a moment to take a deep breath. It felt at the same time good and bad, you wanted to get off their cocks but at the same time, you needed them to fuck into you and destroy your holes in the most delicious way possible.

Steve was the first one who pulled out of you before he slammed his cock back into you. Bucky and his best friend were groaning just as loud as you moaned when Steve started to fuck you. Bucky followed his movements, and so you were kneeling between those broad men, two cocks inside of you while they slammed into you with such force.

The pain you felt quickly turned into pleasure and the desperate moans that left your lips showed that. Bucky was kissing along your neck, while Steve couldn’t stop himself any longer — his lips were pressing aggressively against yours but instead of pulling away you kissed him back.

The knot in your lower stomach was growing, their thick veiny cocks inside of you, stimulating your sweet spot and themselves made your mind go dizzy. “Please, please.”

“What do you need, babygirl? Do you want us to stop?” Bucky asked sweetly and you shook your head, lips parted when Steve used the moment to fuck even harder inside of you. The only sound that left your lips was a cry and your eyes rolled back. Bucky laughed, his hand sliding to your neck and he held it in a loose grip.

“Guess she wants us to make her come before we fill her up with our pretty babies,” Steve growled. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Fucking love that clenching pussy.”

Bucky hummed, agreeing with his best friend. Your walls were clenching around them and both could tell you were just as close as they were. With a harsh thrust from Bucky into your tight ass and a sloppy thrust into your pussy — which was still hitting your sweet spot — you came all over Steve’s cock. You were clenching around them painfully, sucking them even deeper into you while you squeezed them and it caused them to come inside of you.

Bucky’s hot breath hit the sweaty skin of your neck, and his grip around your throat tightens while he pumped his cum into your ass. Steve dug his fingers into your hips, rutting into you, groaning and throwing his head back.

“Fuck, so fucking tight. Take my cum, take my babies,” Steve moaned and you bit your lip when you thought about his words. Your mind was still dizzy and you could feel their heavy breaths on your skin, their sweaty body pressed against yours and their cum slowly dripping out of your holes.

“Taking our cum like a good little slut. Yeah, that’s what you are, our good slut. You look so beautiful when you come,” Bucky grinned and bit your neck slightly. Both were fucking you through your orgasm before they pulled out of you.

They had their hands still on your body, holding you in place while they watched your mixed cum dripping out of you and flowing down. Bucky dipped a finger into the mixture, bringing it to his mouth, and sucking on it before he repeated, only this time he held his finger in front of your mouth.

“Suck it clean, it tastes good. You taste so fucking good baby girl. Especially mixed with our cum,” he chuckled when you let him push his finger into your mouth, you sucked at it, moaning about the salty taste — it was delicious, and sucking Bucky’s finger was just as delicious as the cum.

You were so fucked out; so high on the aura of the room, both boys panting around you, trying to find a sliver of air around the sex-filled space.

“Fuck” Bucky groaned out as he stood from the bed, slightly pushing your form forward until you collapsed onto Steve’s awaiting body.

“There we are sweetheart you did so well, so good for us…took your punishment like a champ baby” Steve cooed, his thick fingers combing through your matted locks, separating the sweaty knots gently.

Bucky watched the pair as they settled against his headboard, smiling softly at just how fucked out you were, a bubbling mess on top of Steve and soaking up his praises like a sponge.

“Mmm Buck” you croaked out, eyes barely cracking open to watch the man as he slid a pair of briefs up over his legs before adjusting himself. His heart clenched at the sound of your raspy voice just barely forming any words, he wanted nothing more than to dive into the bed with you and Steve and snuggle close to you but he was well aware that you needed to be taken care of.

“I’ll be right with you babygirl ok” he squatted down to look at you, a soft smile pulling on his lips and wrinkling the corners of his eyes before he planted a soft kiss along the bridge of your glistening nose and disappeared into the bathroom.

When he returned Steve had pulled you up into his lap, his legs dangling off the bed as he spoke to you about nothing in particular, keeping you awake long enough for them to look after you.

“Come on sweet girl” Steve spoke smiling at the appearance of Bucky “Let’s get you all cleaned up”.

He stood; lifting you like you weighed nothing, a wide palm on your ass while his other cradled your waist making sure you didn’t slip from him, physically and mentally.

The warm sudded water was a welcoming touch, your muscles tensing as your lower body stung lightly but it quickly subsided into a soothing feeling that left your eyelids heavy. A groan sounded from behind you followed by the sloshing of water as someone settled in; his firm arms pulling you close until your back hit his soft chest.

“Still with us babygirl?” Bucky’s breath fanned against your ear as he leaned in close, his plush lips running from behind its shell to the nape of your neck.

You hummed, but the sound wasn’t enough for the boys. Steve leaned over the tub, his index finger curling under your chin and his thumb pulling at your lower lip.

“Come on sweetheart, use those words…you wouldn’t want poor Buck and me to worry all day about hurting you” he murmured, his thumb drifting over the soft pink of your mouth.

“Mm mm, you didn’t hurt me Stevie—just feeling too good and tired” you mustered, your brain still short-circuiting and swirling in that deep subspace.

“That’s ok baby as long as you’re feeling good” He leaned forward, kissing you gently before accepting the bottle of body wash and loofah Bucky held out to him.

“Gonna wash you up, that ok?” The blonde man asked, already squirting a heady amount of the sweet-smelling scent into the sponge.

“Uh huh” You responded meekly, suddenly the thought of Steve touching you all over so intimately had you feeling all shy—something that made Steve’s heart swell as he noticed the soft blush perching over your cheeks.

His hands worked softly, lifting each arm and scrubbing away the sweat and heavy scent of sex from you while Bucky took his time massaging over your hips and thighs, thumbs pushing into the tight knots.

You were almost completely unconscious by the time they’d deemed you clean; the water had gone cold and Steve had scrubbed the same spot on your tummy a thousand times yet none of you wanted to leave the loving coils of the other. Bucky broke first and brought you up with him as he stood, turning you and lifting you out before wrapping you in a huge fluffy towel. He scooped you up again and walked back down the hall to his room, leaving Steve to clean himself and the bathroom up.

“Shit” Bucky cursed, stopping suddenly in the middle of his room. Through all the fussing over you, he’d completely neglected the fact his sheets were covered in your combined juices.

You turned your heavy head to look over your shoulder, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you realised just what exactly had Bucky grumbling.

“It’s alright we can sleep in my bed” you whispered against his temple, lipsing the spot softly and earning a playful spank in return as he turned on his heel and down to the opposite end of the corridor to your room.

Bucky dried you off quickly, eager to get under the sheets and you in his arms; your soft giggles music to his ears as the fabric ran down your sides and over your breasts.

Finally, Bucky got his wish as he tucked you under your sheets and rounded the bed to the other side, his naked frame curling in beside you, his arm snaking over your waist and pulling your back into his front. Steve joined soon after and slipped into the bed in front of you, his hand running up your arm before cupping your cheek and kissing you softly.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better little girl tonight, can’t wait to do this more” he mumbled against your lips, paying no mind to the fact you’d drifted off to sleep as soon as he’d joined you and Bucky.

“Mhmm” Bucky agreed, blue eyes meeting the stormy colour of his friends “But next time I get her pussy” The growl in Bucky’s voice left no room for argument, but Steve only chuckled.

“Sure man, sure”

// Taglist //

@kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @felicitylemon @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @sebastianstanisahotmf @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes

[nerdy-novelist017]

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict  @elizabeth916  @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @dudii4love @ironmooncat  @beebeechaos  @astrogrande  @pearlparty  @themorriganisamonster  @sillylittlethrowaway  @ughdontbeboring  @penwieldingdreamer  @charmingballoon  @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans  @groovyangelkisses  @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit  @pomtherine  @tranquilty  @m00npjm  @twisteduniverse5  @justsomewritingblog  @nhlfs  @thepassionatereader  @rebecca-hvnstn  @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations  @buckysteveloki-me  @simsiddy  @zablife  @sansaorgana  @autumnleaves1991-blog  @charmingballoon  @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire  @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey  @cynic-spirit @pomtherine  @ilovehyperfixating  @xcallmetaniax  @lovenewfandoms  

[g0dlyunsub]

stitch me.

you were assigned to negotiate with an unsub keeping a group of females hostage, or so you thought. turns out he has a partner and he’s determined to destroy you, all in front of spencer.

pairing :: spencer x fem!reader

warnings :: lots of physical violence, blood, mentions of murder, knife threats, biting, general criminal minds themes.

word count :: 1.8k

author’s note :: so… this is my first post, like ever. sorry if it’s poorly written, but i’m all for slightly (?) protective reid and just wanted to write about him :3 accompanying song :: savior by novulent

you knew something was more than just off the moment you were violently thrown into the room. the hostages were huddled near the left corner of the room, their eyes locked onto you as their shoulders shook in panic.

but the hostages were all supposed to be women. brunettes. young women in their twenties. so why was there a young man among them? there was no mention of a young man reported missing in the case files or when garcia had compiled the final list of hostages, so who was he?

must’ve been a gap in the reports, you shook your head and tried to get up, but your left cheek met the cold concrete ground once again.

“don’t move, sweetheart.” his knife was positioned at the nape of your throat, and you felt your breaths become more jagged, more erratic.

“listen, i swear i’ll make it up to you i never-“ your breath gets caught in your throat when the blade presses ever so slightly into your skin.

“shut your pretty little mouth. i know who you are, an undercover cop. if you think you’re so smart coming in here without your wire and gun, you should be prepared for the consequences.” he spits the words with a nasty drawl.

you barely have any time to respond as he lifts you up by the back of your shirt and drags you to an adjacent room. he grabs a fistful of your hair and throws you to the ground forcefully.

“all the other girls in there, they’re nothing compared to you. i’ll take my time with you, sweetheart”. he approaches you while cracking his knuckles and waving his knife around menacingly.

“who’s the boy?” your voice comes out with a slight quiver, but you’re determined not to sound scared. the man lets out a bellowing laugh in response, examining his knife in one hand.

“that’s my buddy jack. you cops surely would have done your research, right?” his hand is now gloved around your throat, and you struggle to loosen his grip with your arms.

this killer had a partner sitting right between the hostages and you and your team had completely missed the signs.

but the adrenaline must have kicked in at the right timing, since you manage to knock your head back into his face and quickly swivel to deliver a kick into his shins and bring him to his knees before he has any time to react with his knife. then you strike him unconscious with a swift elbow to his temple.

you barely have any time to recover, however, when a blow hits the back of your head and your world comes spinning down. before your eyelids slowly close, you manage to steal a glance at the perpetrator — the male hostage had knocked you with a bat and was now trying to shake his unconscious partner awake.

when you open your eyes, you can’t move. your arms are tied behind your back, and your legs are tightly trapped behind the legs of the chair with knots of rope. you were in the main room now with all of the other hostages, and the former hostage was on the ground, still trying to shake his partner awake.

“look what you’ve done, you stupid brat. i swear if you’ve killed him i'm going to SLIT YOUR THR-“ the crescendo of his voice halts with the abrupt ring of the telephone hanging on the wall. he huffs and makes his way to the phone, never losing his eye contact with you. you try to wrestle against the ropes, but your efforts are useless and your energy is at an all time low.

it was your team on the other end. they must have figured out that it was a team of two and not just one.

“your stupid cop knocked samuel cold and split his skin open. send me a medic and maybe i won’t kill all of them here”. jack’s tone is agitated, threatening, and also lost. now that his commander wasn’t in charge, he didn’t know what to do with the hostages, let alone you.

you can barely decipher hotch’s words as they filter through the noise of the phone. “release the women, and i’ll send you all the medical attention you need. we’ll make sure samuel gets the stitches.” his voice is level and controlled. you’ve always trusted hotch and you’ve always trusted your team, but you couldn’t help but let a sliver of anxiousness cloud your thoughts.

and oh god, spencer. how would he cope when you were gone? how would he react at the sight of your cold body, drowned in the blood of the other hostages? tears fill your eyes and you make a poor attempt to swallow them back.

just as you think of your boyfriend, you hear his name through the phone.

“we're going to send in doctor spencer reid to have a look at samuel, alright jack? i want you to let the women go first. the sooner you do this, the sooner samuel gets his help”.

no. no, no, no. NO.

you squirm in your seat, trying to divert jack’s attention.

“wait-“ you try to shout, before jack cuts you off: “SHUT UP! this is all your fault!” he rolls his eyes before he turns around. jack’s knuckles had turned white, maintaining a deathly grip on the telephone.

“fine. but the cop stays with me.” he slams the phone before he rushes back to check on samuel.

the women are released one by one, each frantically making their way out, and you can hear cops outside ushering them and retreating.

it’s only a few minutes later when you hear the familiar sounds of the leather shoes make their way inside of the room. it’s spencer, and he has no wire, no gun, no vest. he’s carrying a medical first aid kit and making his way toward samuel, but not before taking a glance at you.

your world collapses, right there and then. he’s made the same mistake you had by entering without his gun and vest, and you had to give him a signal somehow. if luck was on your side, spencer would make it out alive. but you? your chances are slim.

“hurry up and stitch him up. don’t fuckin look at the other cop.” jack points his knife at spencer, and you let out a hitched yelp. please don’t hurt him. hurt me instead.

spencer gets down to work quickly, examining and tending to the wounds on samuel’s face, and he doesn’t look up in your direction once. jack’s watching him the entire time, tapping his left foot in impatience.

“there. he’s all good, samuel just needs some time to recov-“ spencer raises his arms and turns his back against you, and faces jack as he speaks.

“shut- sit on that chair”. jack motions at spencer to sit down on the chair across from you. you shake your head fervently, yelling constant streams of don’t to him. but he obliges.

“put your arms behind your back,” jack orders, and spencer obliges. you make a desperate attempt and kick at jack to try and distract him. but jack only slaps you in the face with his backhand before aiming the knife at spencer. your boyfriend flinches, and his friendly facade is now masked with a deathly glare.

“don’t move.” jack grabs duct tape and moves swiftly to bind spencer’s hands together behind the chair. you hang your head down. it’s over.

“listen, let spence- let him go. it’s just between you and me, your partner said you only need me”. you shakingly drew in a deep breath as you spoke.

jack chuckles before he makes a step toward you. the next thing you know, he’s grabbed you by the hair and he’s delivering punches left and right, hurling screams of expletives and slurs. he’s lost it. and you were going to die.

he positions the knife at your chest, and you know he'll do it. you know he will drive that blade straight to your skin. straight to your heart.

“STOP. STOP! PLEASE!” you hear spencer rocking his chair forwards, and jack finally stops. you can’t breathe with all the blood pooling in your mouth, and you let the excess drawl out of your lips to land on the floor.

“jack, listen to me, please.” spencer looks at you with pleading eyes, silently signaling you to not move. to not agitate jack further.

“no. samuel said he was gonna kill her and i have to finish what he started for him”. jack leans forward and pulls the collar of your shirt outwards, and bites down on your neck. you let out a painful scream, tears running down your face just as more blood leaves the corner of your lips. spencer thrashes in his chair, trying to shift jack’s attention.

“but i stitched him up. samuel will live. let her go. you can take it out on me.” spencer’s voice is desperate, but there’s a tone of controlled execution, because his voice isn’t quivering like before.

at that instant, doors fling open and less than a millisecond later, jack drops to the ground, his knife toppling down to the floor soon after. the team of cops, along with hotch and rossi, make their way toward you and spencer, untying the knots.

between the yells of “we need a medic” and comforting words of “you’re going to be okay” being uttered left and right, you hear spencer’s voice. it’s seemingly amplified for some reason, and you can’t help but smile. your boyfriend rushes towards you, sweeping your hair and cradling you back and forth in his arms.

“you’re so brave, you’re so brave y/n.” his voice comes out stifled and hoarse, and you feel him grip your hand even tighter.

“i’m so sorry i let you go in there alone. i’m so sorry i let him do that to you, torture you and almost-“ his head buried into the crook of your neck, and he lightly kisses you right above the dried cut where jack had attacked you.

you turn your head ever so slightly to get a better look at spencer. tears coat his eyelashes and his mouth shakes as he talks. a soft groan rolls out from the back of your throat, and you snuggle deeper into spencer’s hold.

“keep… talking. i want… to hear… you.” you manage to let out, and spencer’s eyes widen.

“of course. i can do that. i’ll keep talking to you, y/n. focus on my voice, can you do that?” he asks with a slight squeeze to your palm. you give a slow nod in return.

that’s all he needs, because when the medics transfer you into the ambulance, he’s sitting right beside you, not letting go of your hand, and whispering nothing but bittersweet apologies.

his voice is the only stitch you need.

[losers-clvb]

famine // sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x best friend!female!reader

summary: you and the winchester boys went to go look into a case on a couple mysteriously eating themselves to death. after discovering this is brought on by one of the four horsemen, famine, coming into town, dean and sam create a plan. the only problem: you've been whimpering at the sound of sam's voice since that morning.

content: basically just porn with small amount of plot, slightly dom!sam (not insanely so, just a few words), praise, reader begs sam to fuck her, fingering, unprotected piv penetration, sex pollen adjacent storyline, dubcon (due to said "sex pollen"), dean and castiel walk in on the pair after they're finished, no use of y/n

word count: 3k

note: this is based on season 5, episode 14 "my bloody valentine". i wrote this all in a day, so unedited, but i watched that episode and the idea just came to me. this was my first time writing smut so be kind if it isn't the best. second part of "mayor's banquet" coming out soon, which also has smut, if you are into that. enjoy!

masterlist

----

It started slowly. At first it was discomfort, one that left you wiggling in your jeans. You felt hot and no amount of air conditioning was helping. You moved in your seat as Dean drove through the small time. The three of you had arrived that morning, opting to eat at the local diner before investigating what was going on. A couple had eaten each other to death the night before which threw up alarm bells for the hunters. You were Sam’s best friend, a relationship that had begun in college. It wasn’t until you had an encounter with a werewolf four months after Sam left that you decided to join the boys on their hunts.

“You gotta take a piss or something?” Dean asked after he had noticed you were moving around in the backseat. You blushed when you met his eyes in the mirror.

“Leave her alone, Dean.” Sam smacked his brother playfully. You were grateful for this, as you always were for Sam. Coincidentally after he spoke, the need to move increased. You squeezed your eyes shut and breathed deeply.

You were contemplating asking Dean to pull over when the car stopped. You opened your eyes to find the motel you three would be staying in that night. Dean was already opening the door to the room, but Sam stood in front of your open door with his hand held out, ever the gentleman. You grasped his hand in yours and an actual whimper hummed in your throat. It was like your senses were heightened and Sam was the key to making it all better. Sam looked at you with his head cocked to the side.

“You alright?” He asked as you climbed out of the car. Oh God, his mouth, the way his lips moved when he talked, you wanted them on you, every part of you.

“Yeah.” You whispered, clenching your other hand in a fist. You shouldn’t be thinking of your best friend in that way. At least, not when he was leading you into your shared motel room with his brother. It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, late at night, with your hand between your legs. You had walked in on Sam with Jessica once, back in the first few months of college. And God did that image give you something to think about. You mostly thought about how easily Sam could pin you on the bed, kiss and suck his way down your body until he reached your core, right where you needed him most. The idea of him devouring you like a starved animal, hands wrapped around your thighs, tongue-

“God, Cass, I thought you didn’t need to eat!” Dean exclaimed as the angel took another bite of his burger. Somehow you had missed entering the room and Castiel appearing inside. You let go of Sam’s hand and beelined to the bathroom. You shut the door and locked it, but not before hearing Dean gloat about how his earlier question had been correct.

You looked in the mirror and analyzed your blown pupils. You scoffed at yourself, splashing cold water onto your face. Why were you acting like a cat in heat? You had more self control than this. It didn’t make sense. You were fine this morning, yet now you were ready to grind yourself down on the edge of the bathtub.

You must have been in there a while because there was a knock on the door and you heard your name.

“I-I’m okay.” You stuttered out while holding back moans. It was Sam, who never wanted you to be uncomfortable. You bit down on your lip as you slipped a hand in your pants. After a few minutes of dissatisfying touching, you knew you had to stop and go back out into the room. When you opened the door there were three pairs of eyes on you, one playful, one uninterested, and one worried. You cleared your throat and shuffled to the table before taking a seat. Silence, aside from Castiel’s chewing, filled the room. You pulled out your laptop from the bags that had been brought in and began researching. What, you didn’t know, but it beat trying to avoid Sam’s gaze.

----

It was official: you were horny for Sam Winchester. It was bad, worse than it had been that afternoon. You all had figured out that one of the four horsemen, Famine, was in town, and he was looking for something to satisfy his hunger. It explained everything. Cass’ insatiable hunger and your insatiable need. Even Sam was going thirsty for some demon blood.

Now, you stood, or more squirmed, in the motel room as the boys created a plan. They were starting to suspect something was wrong with you, they just couldn’t figure it out. Dean was a bit more clued into the fact that you seemed to whimper every time you looked in Sam’s direction. Sam, completely clueless to this, had been trying to get you alone in hopes you would tell him what was wrong.

“We find Famine, take his little ring, and everyone will be back to normal.” Dean said, slapping his hands on his lap. You hugged yourself, chewing absentmindedly at your thumbnail in an attempt to stop the desire from coming out of you.

“Dean-” Sam’s voice made you melt and a small moan escaped your lips. The brothers looked at you before turning back to the conversation.

“-I can’t go. The demons-”

“I get it.” Dean interrupted Sam. He knew he couldn’t expect Sam to risk something like this. He had it handled. He had Castiel to help. He would’ve had you also, but he could tell you were ready to pounce on Sam. Your resolve was breaking. There wasn’t much more you could do. You decided - you were going to ask Sam to help you get over this.

“Sam,” You breathed out as you walked to him. Your legs were wobbly. You watched Sam shoot up from his seat, but before you could get to him Dean was grabbing both of your wrists. You whined, trying to pull away. You needed Sam, needed his body, his c-

“No.” Dean spoke sternly, pulling you to the door. He had to get you another room and lock you in. It was for your own good.

“Wait, let her g-” Sam tried to walk to you but Castiel, even in his hungry state, stepped in front of him. You yanked against Dean but he was stronger than you.

“Not right now, man.” Dean spoke as he dragged you out.

“What’s wrong with her?!” Sam was desperate. He needed to know why he couldn’t be around you.

“I think you know.” Castiel said before turning his attention back to his food. Sam shook his head and tried to think. Realization came across his face as he put it all together.

----

An hour had passed since Dean left you. He had locked you in the bathroom of a room as far from the original room that they had available. You had somehow gotten worse. You were bucking from the ground, trying to find something to alleviate the pain. It was horrible. You knew Sam was close. You could feel it. You needed him. The door was locked from the outside, but you were pulling on the handle, trying to get it open.

“Please,” You whined out. You banged on the door, trying to break it down. You whimpered a few times when you felt the fabric of your jeans rub against you. You had grown stronger since joining the boys. You could do this. You needed Sam.

The sound of wood cracking encouraged your efforts. You slammed your body up against the door and hit it with your fists until you felt it give way. You fell to the ground surrounded by the scattered pieces of wood from the door. Your recovery was quick and was sped up by the overwhelming need bubbling in you. You stumbled to the door of the room, which was, stupidly on Dean’s part, simply locked with the deadbolt. You ran out into the night like a caged animal escaping. You searched around trying to find the room where you knew Sam was.

There. Room 12. You ran for it, panting as your core grew wetter. You reached the room, shuffling around for the key that Dean had forgotten to take from you. You fumbled to unlock the door. You could already smell Sam, hear his own struggle to get his fix. You searched the room trying to find him.

“Sammy…” You whined out and clutched your stomach. You couldn’t find him, even though you knew he was here. You heard your name muffled through the door to the bathroom. Of course! Dean had hidden him in the same place he had put you. You practically ran to the door, yanking it open. There he was, handcuffed to the sink and looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes. You whimpered and fell to your knees next to him.

“Sammy, it hurts.” You said, gripping onto his shirt. Sam scrunched his eyebrows in worry and understanding. With his free hand he rubbed your side in an attempt to soothe you.

“I know, honey.” He breathed out as you leaned on him.

“Please, Sammy, help me. Please.” You whimpered and breathed in his scent.

“I don’t know if you-” He began.

“No, I do, I do, I do.” You chanted as his hand gripped onto your side. You could see him roll his head to the side. He could tell you were in pain. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to help. He did, more than anything in the world. He had wanted you since you joined him and Dean on the road. The time was never right, his confidence never high enough. And now he had a chance. The only problem was he didn’t know if you actually wanted it or if it was the old man controlling your desire. When Sam was silent to your begging, you moved in closer.

“Sammy, please… it hurts so bad… I want you… all of you…” You moaned out. Red hot need flashed across your vision. It was getting harder for Sam to not touch you in the way you both wanted. The final crush of his hesitancy was the whimper that came out of you when he took his hand off of you.

“Let me see you, baby.” His tone was delicate even when his words were dirty. You were quick to pull your clothes off. You didn’t care where they went and threw them in every direction. You were left naked and kneeling next to him. His eyes raked down your body before stopping on your acing core. You watched him, whining. He traced a finger across your burning skin. He stopped just before reaching your wetness.

“Please…” You breathed. He flicked his gaze to your eyes momentarily before moving his hand. He started slow, rubbing your clit mindfully. You fell backwards in pleasure but made sure you were still close enough for Sam to touch you. Sam’s pace never slowed or quickened, which made you buck your hips up. He pulled his hand away, leaving you cold and whiny.

“Ah ah,” Sam locked eyes with you, “let me do it.” He placed his hand back where it was to continue his rubbing. Your chest heaved as you willed yourself to stay still. God, you needed this. Your hand moved to your breasts. You toyed with your nipples. This made Sam pull at the cuff around his other wrist. He wanted to touch you, touch all of you. Damn Dean for restraining him like this.

“Just like that, baby, rub them just like that.” He slipped a finger in you. You moaned and clenched around it. He swore under his breath as he moved his hand. You felt like heaven and he hadn’t even had you around his cock yet.

“Yes, Sammy, yes.” You encouraged him. Looking at him from your spot on the floor, you could tell he was getting hard. You wanted to help him, helping him helped you. You moved to get up when Sam pulled his hand back again.

“I said, no moving.” He growled and moved his hips to hide the growing erection. You collapsed on the floor, desperate for him again.

“Wanna make you feel good, Sammy.” You mumbled as you felt not just one, but two fingers slip in. Sam sighed in pleasure, loving how you felt on his hand.

“You are, baby. You can have it, have it all. Just wanna make you come first.” His gentle tone only made you louder. You ran your hands down your body, sparks of pleasure erupting wherever you touched. You were close, so so close. You squeezed your eyes shut as Sam sped up the pace.

“So close, Sam, so so so…” You trailed off, the words falling off your tongue as he curled his fingers. He smiled devilishly, and if you didn’t know any better, or if you were in the headspace to even think, you would’ve thought he was possessed. No, this was completely and wholly Sam Winchester.

“That’s good, baby, come on. Come all undone for me.” He cooed. His words were what sent you over the edge, waves crashing down as you moaned through a bitten lip. The moment of reprieve from the pain was short lived as the need seemed to multiply. You figured this must be what torture was. You turned to your hands and knees before crawling to Sam. He groaned as he watched you look up at him, asking for permission to undress him. He nodded and your hands flew to his zipper. You unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them down his body with his boxers.

His cock sprang free, looking achingly hard. You sucked in a breath, the sight making your clit throb. You moved a hand to touch him, but was stopped by his hand on your wrist. Your eyes shot to his.

“I want you around me.” His words were almost a beg, like he was just as needy for this as you were. You whimpered in reply, a new wave of pleasure washing over you. You climbed on top of him so you were chest to chest. He looked in your eyes before crashing his lips into yours. It was sloppy and full of desire. His hand gripped your hip, kneading the skin there. You groaned in response. Your arms wrapped around his neck and you tried to hold him as close to you as possible. His hand snaked down to position himself with your hole. He broke the kiss to speak.

“Ready, baby?” He asked. You answered by sinking down onto him with a sigh. You kissed him again, grinding your hips. He helped you move, lifting you with one arm only to guide you back down. His lips left yours, moving down your face then to your neck. He nipped at your skin sharply before kissing it better.

SamSamSamSamSamSam. The only thing in your mind was Sam. His name was racing through your brain in a never ending loop. He left little marks on you everywhere, causing you you speed up your movements. Your fingers tangled in his hair. You needed him closer, needed him deeper.

“God, you feel so good, baby. Just like I dreamed about.” Sam grunted out against your skin. Your walls were warm and tight around him. He could feel you tighten around him when he spoke, which only motivated him to keep going. His words made you moan. You loved this, and though the instant need for it had been brought on against your will, you had been dreaming about this moment for a while.

The room was filled with breathy moans and the sounds of sex. You pulled Sam's head back by his hair, gentle enough, before kissing him again. It was sloppy and wet, full of lust. You could feel yourself growing closer to orgasm again. It was insane how this felt. Most guys hadn't ever gotten you off once, much less twice in the same night. You whimpered into his mouth and felt a smile curve up his face. He was glad he could bring such pleasure to you.

The final breaking point for you was when you felt his hand holding you grip onto the soft fat of your bottom. You let out a few breathy whines as you felt Sam come a second later. You didn't care that the two of you had forgotten to use a condom in your sex driven states. None of that mattered. All that mattered was the euphoric high of multiple orgasms was washing over you as you stayed on Sam. Neither of you were moving anymore. He was still inside you when you let your arms fall to his chest. Your head lolled to its side onto his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around you.

“You okay, baby?” He said in between pants. You simply nodded. The overwhelming need to go for another round wasn't coming and you were so glad for it. Finally, you were at peace. Dean and Castiel must have gotten Famine’s ring somehow. You didn't think of what this meant until you heard the door to the motel room open.

“Sam-” Dean began, but was cut off by the sight of the two of you on the bathroom floor, Sam still cuffed to the sink. Castiel appeared behind Dean.

“She wasn't there.” He stated in a monotone after seemingly being sent to check up on you.

“Yeah, I got that.” Dean mumbled. Sam looked up at him sheepishly. You were starting to doze off. The energy it had taken all day to not be able to get off was taking a toll on you. Dean cleared his throat before grabbing a blanket off the bed. He draped it over you in an attempt to keep some of your modesty in tact.

“Can you, ya know?” Sam questioned while rattling the handcuffs attached to him. Dean pulled a key from his pocket and quickly freed his younger brother.

“We'll talk about this later.” Dean said before swiftly getting out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

[gghostwriter]

i saw you opened your fluff requests so how about this: reid recieves an invitation to a high-school reunion back in Vegas but he doesn't want to go because of his bad childhood. but his best friend (who is completely in love with him) convinces him to go, and offers to be his fake girlfriend to hype him up and make him feel more comfortable. he agrees and ends up confessing his love on the same football field he was bullied on

please feel no pressure to write this, it's just an idea i thought was cute

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader Trope: Friends to lovers; Fluff with a mix of pining wc: 2.1k A/N: Reader is not part of the BAU, but she just still work for the FBI. By far, this is my longest request written (it's a chapter length) and I don't know how it became so long but I hope you enjoy it still! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗 Main masterlist

Rewriting History. // Spencer Reid

It was the heavy scent of books and wood that welcomed you home. Street lights reflecting off the emerald green walls, bathing the apartment space a warm golden hue. There was peace and stillness, your roommate of two years, Spencer Reid, nowhere to be seen—a usual occurrence that came with his and your job too, being FBI agents under the BAU and CACU, respectively.

You sluggishly made your way to your bedroom, adjacent Spencer’s closed door. Flipping open the switch, your worn body collapsed on the plush vanity chair as thoughts about the darkness of your job slip away and get replaced with melancholy on your connection with the boy genius. It was a relationship nurtured by grueling times in the academy—a connection forged out of convenience at first before becoming this convoluted and intimate bond all because you ended up falling for him.

It wasn’t a conscious choice and Spencer didn’t make it any easier. He was a closed off castle complete with a moat and a secret password—painfully shy and awkward in nature. If it wasn’t for required partnership in physical classes, you doubted you’d get as close as you were now.

A beep brought you out of your musings.

And as if he knew you were thinking of him, it was a text message from Spencer informing you of his return home in a few minutes. 

With a sigh, you pushed yourself out of the chair and changed into a set of clothes—a faded Caltech tee, that you never returned, and a pair of black leggings

Padding across to the kitchen, you opened the refrigerator and silently thanked your past self for prepping dinner for two in advance. With how irregular both your schedules were and Spencer’s apparent lack of skill in cooking, it fell upon your shoulders to make sure he isn’t living off of cold pizzas and Chinese takeouts. 

As the second plate of food was heating up in the microwave, the chiming of keys softly echoed from outside the mahogany door.

“Hey Spencer,” you called out from the kitchen counter.

A series of rustles and a soft hey answered back.

You tilted your head to the side in contemplation, something was wrong and as he turned the corner, shoulders curving in on itself and brows furrowed, something must definitely be wrong. 

“Tough case?” You asked, bringing both plates to the rounded dinner table.

“Yeah—” Spencer shook his head. “Actually no, not really but I got an email from Las Vegas.”

Your spoonful of soup hung midair, immediately concerned with the email contents. “Is it your mom? Is she okay?’ 

Having visited Diana in numerous occasions with and without Spencer, you’ve learned to love that woman fiercely too. She was a breath of fresh air—blunt during her lucid days and smart during her academic lectures. 

“It’s from my high school, an invitation for the reunion.”

Ah. “And you’re not sure if you want to go?” 

He shrugged, chewing his slice of chicken before answering. “There’s really no one I want to reconnect with, you know. No happy memories really.” 

“That’s true,” you nodded along. 

During the first few nights moving in the apartment, Spencer had shared the lows he had to go through just to get to where he was now at such a young age—endlessly mocked for being a geek, no friend group or single confidant to watch his back, and the utter humiliation of being tied naked on a football post. You had an inkling that the genius had gone through bullying, it was a sad norm in all schools, especially in public, but hearing it first hand had brought home just how much of his closed off and shy personality was a product of his trials.

You tapped your fingers on the table. “I think you should go.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, yeah. To show all those mean bullies where you are now,” your back straightening from the idea. “They’ll talk about you in passing anyway, whether you’re there or not so might as well be there to show them up and defend yourself plus—” you paused, taking a sip of water before barreling through. “—you’ve become quite handsome since then. Don’t you think?”

His hazel eyes widened in surprise, further adding to his appeal. Spencer was so innocent that he didn’t know the effect he had on women—first evidence was yourself and the second was Lila Archer. “Y-you think I’ve become handsome?”

With warmth spreading on your cheeks, you nodded. “You’ve always been handsome to me.”

Spencer started coughing, hand beating on his chest as the food threatened to go down the wrong tube.

Alarmed, you quickly stood up and started patting his back for assistance. How embarrassing was this—the first time you blatantly flirted with the man you formed intense attraction for ends up with him almost choking. Was this a sign maybe to not push your luck? You’ve done just about anything to nudge Spencer’s mind in acknowledging your feelings, from remembering all his little quirks (all were just so cute), actively listening to his tangents (all very informative and interesting), and even sometimes delivering a box of donuts to his team (all in the name of seeing his face brighten up) but none seemed to have worked. So, you opted to tell him in words and look what that did to him.

You gnawed on your lower lip. Maybe it was best to pull back, maybe it was best to throw in—

He cleared his throat before his hand reached yours situated on his shoulder. There was a slight tremor before it closed around your all of a sudden clammy palm. “I’ll go if you go with me.”

Filter off your brain. “As a fake girlfriend type of thing?”

You shut your eyes closed, promising to yourself to stop reading those unrealistic romance novels that Penelope lends you.

“If—if you want,” his voice shaky and soft as rustles could be heard in the background.

Opening your eyes, Spencer was now fully facing you. Eyes roaming your face and body—profiling you.

A small smile graced your lips. “Okay.”

———

The second thing your brain thought of was how oddly fitting that the reunion was held at the school gym, located beside the football field. The first thought being how Spencer looked devastatingly handsome in his suit and tie.

His attire wasn’t that different from his usual in the FBI but there was a hidden meaning behind his choices. The patterned brown blazer was a gift you had given to him for his first anniversary working at the FBI and his tie matched the color of your dress. 

It made you feel warm even though a shiver went down your spine as a sudden gust of wind passed by. 

Spencer slid closer towards you. “Do you want my coat?”

“I’m alright, thanks for asking Spence,” you looked up, smiling in reassurance. The fairy lights hung in rows emphasized how structured his face was. A high nose bridge, similar to his mother’s, and high cheekbones that made your fingers twitch in want to caress. He was stunning to look at—a view you feared you’d never get enough of.

“Spencer Reid!” A booming male voice shouted from across the gymnasium causing a few heads to swivel. Based on the other attendees reactions—giving them ample space as they passed and the stares tracking their every move, you knew who he was right away. A former bully.

“How are you?” he reached out his hand for a handshake. One that Spencer stared at before bringing his hand up to a wave, lips in a tight lipped smile.

“Hey Paul, nice to see you.”

“Is it?” He chuckled before turning his eyes on you. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You stated out your name, tone very similar when you’re on the field—cold and professional.

“Look at you, Spencer, having such a pretty girlfriend. Heard you work for the FBI now, is that how you two met?” 

A saccharine smile spread across your lips. Your boy genius had been stiff ever since Paul called out his name. Having have heard how Spencer once reacted to a case where the unsub was a high school victim, you knew where his mind was at the moment. Grappling with the hurt from the past and trying his best not to lash out from the scars it had left behind. “Yeah, we met at the Academy and just clicked. He was such a gentleman that I couldn’t say no when he asked me out for a date.”

“That’s good to hear. Listen, man, is it alright if I talk to you for a second? Alone?”

You brushed the back of your hand with his, bringing his attention to you. There was a slight furrow in between his brows and his stature was taut, like a stretched out bow that needs to release it’s arrow. This was one of the few times, you could tell, that Spencer was unsure what to do. There was no malice behind Paul’s request and although you weren’t a profiler yourself, the slight hunch on the former bully’s shoulder silently communicated his remorse. 

Spencer’s eyes trained on yours and as if he found the answer within the depths of your gaze, he slightly smiled, squeezing your hand in his before turning back and nodding to the interloper. 

“I’ll go get a refill,” you lifted your empty cup to excuse yourself.

In truth, you stood idly near the punch bowl and kept your eyes glued on the male duo. Paul was looking down, shuffling his feet, before taking a deep breath and looking straight at Spencer. He uttered a few words you couldn’t make of and in turn, Spencer’s body relaxed and he nods once. With an offer for a handshake, one that Spencer shook, Paul walked away as you made your way back to your partner’s side.

“Good talk?” you asked.

“He apologized,” Spencer muttered, eyes studying you before grasping your hand back to his. “No refill?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it anymore. Say Spence—” he titled his head as an answer. “Want to get out of here?”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling with relief. “Thought you’d never ask.”

———

The cicadas were singing their tune as you and Spencer stepped out to the football field. The grass lush in color and the faint smell of wet earth wafted around. Grateful that you opted to wear sensible flats rather than the high heels Penelope was bartering you to wear, you held Spencer’s hand tight as he started recollecting the worst bullying that happened in the same place many years ago.

“That—” he pointed at the goalpost on the far right. “—was where I was left tied up. I remember feeling worried that I would catch hypothermia as the rain kept coming and going that day and I remember feeling sad when I got home and my mother didn’t notice me missing.” 

Your voice caught in your throat.

He continued on. “They say people forget events as they grow older and I wished I had the luxury of that.”

“Because of your eidetic memory,” you sighed. It was a blessing and a curse to have. 

“But I was thinking, maybe I could rewrite it instead?”

There was a thick layer of hope behind his words causing you to turn, fully facing him this time.

“I—I’ve been keeping a secret from you for 24 months and 182 days and I don’t know if this would change our relationship or ruin it but you’re my person, my best friend—” he took a deep breath. “—and I’m in love with you.”

People say there are moments in your life that would upend everything as you know it and tilt everything to an axis, you never understood what they meant by that, up until this moment. The twinkling night stars suddenly appeared brighter, the temperature warmer, and the force that tethered you to Earth was no longer gravity, it was now Spencer Reid.

You smiled, eyesight blurring from tears. His trembling fingers reached out to wipe the droplets making its path down your cheeks.

“I’m in love with you too, Spencer Reid, since the beginning.” 

And as if the world needed more proof, he smiled—his bright, full teeth smile and you felt your heart halt before starting back up again. 

It was proof that he owned the beating organ in your chest and all the emotion that came with it. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[darktrashsoulbear]

Cold Nights, Cosy Hearts

Modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend!reader

Based on this request made by Hannah @gwaynesprincess

Summary: After an unexpected interruption to their cosy night in, Aemond and reader try to find a way to somehow salvage the night and spend some quality time together.

House of the Dragon Masterlist

Taglist

Warnings: Smut, minors do not interact

Word Count: 3350

Divider Credit: @saradika-graphics

Any likes, comments and reblogs are always always appreciated :)

The sound of his ringtone interrupted Aemond’s reading of Arnold J. Tonybee’s ‘A Study of History’. With a grin he looked down at his phone hoping it was his angel. The grin soon soured as he declined the call, eyes rolling to the back of his skull - Aegon. Averting his attention back to his book he continued, the serene silence making for the perfect autumn, late afternoon atmosphere to catch up on his reading as he waits for his angel to come home.

Aemond learnt from a young age that his elder brother had a penchant for ruining perfect moments, he was a fool to think this time was an exception. He hastened to the front of the flat not wanting the neighbours to believe there was an attempted break in occurring at the sheer volume of the banging at the door. Swinging open the door sporting a glare that could freeze the sun, Aemond grasped the arm of the nuisance and dragged him inside before quickly slamming it shut again.

Said nuisance, unphased by his anger, jumped onto the sofa in order to lay down - ignorant to his shoes rubbing all over the fabric. Momentarily unsure of how to react to the scene before him, Aemond stilled before snapping back to reality and ripping Aegon’s legs off of the sofa, almost throwing him to the floor. 

“Oi, what was that for!”

“Get out Aegon!” Aemond snapped not bothering to dignify his question with a response

“Must I remind you that it was YOU who just yanked me through the door, weirdo!” Aegon fired back, his amusement clear

“Why are you here?” The younger demanded

“I had no other choice with you dodging my calls!” Aegon continued, “what if it was urgent?”

“Is it?” he questioned, defeatedly leaning against the wall adjacent to the sofa

The hesitation that followed told Aemond all he needed to know as he, once again, began ushering his brother out, telling him he’s busy. Stubbornly Aegon refused clinging onto the backrest of the sofa as though his life depended and at this point, it very well could have. As the brother’s struggled they found themselves on the floor, forgetting the actual task at hand and just exchanging brotherly blows trying to get the advantage.

The scene you walked in on was one you wouldn’t forget. On the carpet before you was Aemond half kneeling on the floor with Aegon wrapped around the one not touching the floor, like a koala - seemingly in a struggle as you watched one of Aemond’s hands go from trying to pry him off to his hair and yank. At this you couldn’t contain your laughter anymore as, body curling in as the sound of your cackles rang out. 

This caused Aemond to lose focus, letting go of Aegon’s strands, as his head snapped back towards you. Just as he opened his mouth and went to say something, Aegon used his distraction to his advantage and rose up, arms still wrapped around Aemond’s leg using it to shove him onto his back and triumphantly sat on both his legs, pinning them down and casually waving at her. 

“If you boys are busy then I can text Helaena, see if she wants to meet up or something,” you suggested, half genuinely wanting to give them space and half desperately not wanting to be forced to babysit the two brothers.

“That would be grea…” Aegon began but was cut off by Aemond yet again burying a hand in his hair in order to free himself.

“No!” he interjected, “we promised we’d spend the evening with each other, I’ve got the movies rented and menus ready to order a takeaway. Just give me a sec to get rid of him and we can start baby.”

Aegon finally freeing himself again began “I may have a thing for hair pulling but certainly not with you little brother, with your girlfriend on the other hand…” he trailed off, shooting you a wink, “and now there’s no way you’re getting rid of me, movies and a takeaway? Count me in!” he moved back over to sit in the middle of the sofa tapping the spots on either side of him with his hands.

Aemond chose to ignore him entirely and walked over to his angel, grasping your hands and telling you to go “relax, get into something comfortable and decide what we should watch first” while he dealt with the 5”9’ problem in the flat. However, before you could even take a step in the direction of their bedroom, you were interrupted by a loud declaration from the man on the sofa.

“I do agree you should get changed doll, but into something to go out in. The three of us are going to go meet some people at the pub, maybe go out after”

Judging by the vein protruding from the side of her boyfriend’s neck, you knew now was the time to step in. Nodding to Aegon, you grasped Aemond’s hand, interlocked your fingers and led him to their bedroom, ensuring the door was locked behind them. You guided him to take a seat on the bed as she stood before him, bringing his head against her stomach, running one hand through his hair and the other massaging circles between his shoulder blades.

After a few minutes of silence, Aemond mumbled something about how Aegon must have a compulsion of ruining everything. His angel only softly chuckled as you continued soothing him.

“Would it be so bad if we indulged him and just went along?” You began before he moved his head away and looked up as if you’d sprouted another head, taking a seat next to him you quickly added on, “Let’s say we do go, what would really happen? We have a drink or two with him, then he gets distracted by a pretty girl and leaves us alone, we have a couple of drinks and chat, then we come back here and watch movies and get a takeaway like we planned.”

After a moment of thought, the corner of Aemond’s lips quirked up and he put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in to press a few kisses on the top of her head. “A fine plan, my angel, a fine plan indeed.”

Preening at the praise you added “and besides we could use this as an excuse to get out of future plans we want no part of, ‘what do you mean we never go out with you Aegon? Do you not remember last time when we cancelled our date night just to join you, only for you to ditch us for a girl?’ We’d have a solid argument baby.”

At this Aemond let out a genuine laugh, pulling you up to her feet before wrapping his arms around your waist. He pressed a kiss to your lips, trailing his hands further down, copping a feel before letting her go to allow the two of them to get ready for the night.

One would think that after acquiescing to his wishes, Aegon would become more manageable. That would incorrect, instead he was bounding down the street as free as a child half his age. Aemond and his angel trailed behind him, huddling closer together for warmth. His left and your right were in the pockets of your own coats while the others were intertwined and shoved into Aemond’s other pocket.

Reaching the too lively pub, Aemond tugged you inside, eyes frantically scanning the place for an available seat. Aegon, of course, made a beeline for the bar and was frantically waving back at them to join him. Smirking, his angel pulled him over towards him and he reluctantly trailed behind. 

“See guys, isn’t this so fun? Seriously Aem I don’t know how you managed to bag a girl like her, what with the giant stick permanently lodged up your -” Aegon was cut off by you sliding close to the rogue.

“Don’t look now Aegon but that girl over there, on the other side of the bar, she’s staring at you. Like really really into it,” and Aegon of course immediately whipped around, eyes zeroing in on the girl whose eyes were flicking over with mild interest - but he didn’t need to know that.

“Well then, my lady, weirdo, I’d best not deprive her of the best night of her life for much longer! I’ll catch you guys in a second, just stay close.” Aegon instructed, walking backwards towards the girl in the hot pink dress.

With that the couple were left alone and Aemond’s relief was evident. As Aemond got the attention of one of the bar staff, you turned to find somewhere a lot more discreet to sit. Spotting somewhere in the back you grabbed the drinks as he paid and the two of you made your way over to a small table near the back.

Taking a seat on the small stools you set the drinks down and Aemond turned to you giving you a small smile and retaking your hand, palm up, tracing the lines on it. Abruptly looking up a final time his eyes darted back over the where Aegon was, relieved to see he was still by the markedly more interested looking girl.

Turning back to your eyes he felt an overwhelming sense of adoration flow through him, reaching out he tucked a rogue strand of your hair behind your ear as you bit your lip looking up at him with a gaze that made him dearly regret ever entertaining the idea of leaving their bedroom.

Just as he cupped your face with one hand, the other tugging your chin up and closer, and began leaning in, he heard a dull thud on the opposite side of their table top. Looking across you saw a man at least in his early 40s, wearing a worn suit slump into the stool opposite you - eagerly grabbing and downing half his pint of Guinness.

Slowly he lifted his gaze to the two of you and looked at you as though you were the inconveniences. Which apparently was the final straw for Aemond as he gave him the deepest scowl you’d ever seen. This caused one of the most amusing exchanges of words you’d ever seen your boyfriend involved in…

“Don’t know why you’re giving me that look boy, you don't own the table you know,” the man began.

“Look mate, I meant no harm, me and my girl were just wanting-” Aemond began feeling less than civil.

“Oh boy you couldn’t harm a fly even if you did mean it,” the man scoffed, flicking his hand dismissively.

You could see the way Aemond’s hand tightened into a fist and his jaw clenched. Knowing you had to do something to de-escalate the situation you opened your mouth to address him.

“Don’t you even think about putting your two-pence missy, this is between me and the lad,” the balding man interjected.

At this your eyes widened, eyebrows slightly lifted momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of the man that came and sat at your table. Aemond angled his head towards you, his gaze sending a clear message ‘just say the word and I’ll deal with it’. But before he was given the chance your pint of Stella Artois somehow made its way all over the man’s front.

At his shocked gasp, you and Aemond looked at each other and the message was clear. Run. Darting out of the pub, hand in hand, Aemond leading the way. The seven o’clock evening chill in the night was biting compared to the heat in the pub and caused you to shiver as you realised you left your coat inside near the bar.

Realising this Aemond offered to go back and fetch it but not wanting to risk getting barred from the pub, you shook your head reassuring him that you’d be fine for the walk home. Turning to begin the walk, another shiver coursed through you as you attempted to huddle further into your knitted dress, thankful you had the forethought to wear plain black leggings instead of tights.

Observing, Aemond tugged on your wrist causing you to swivel back as he draped his own coat around your shoulder, helping you slide you arms in. You tried to refuse, insisting he kept it for himself, but vehemently denied you stating that Targaryen’s have warmer blood - thanks to their royal lineage from centuries ago, blood of the dragon apparently.

Finally acquiescing, you gave him a peck on the lips grasping his left hand to shove into the coat pocket until he yet again stopped you. Looking up at him confused, he moved you so that you were now standing on his right - away from the pavement. He then allowed his right hand to find home in the coat’s  pocket, the other sliding into the pocket of his jeans.

Seeing your eyes roll at his actions, he simply gave you a smirk “you always claim that chivalry is dead in modern society angel, I’m simply proving otherwise”.

Turning the corner, relief filled you as you spotted your flat building meaning you’d soon be out of the cold. As much as Aemond liked to pretend he was unaffected you could tell the cold was getting to him. Still clasping his hand in the coat pocket you leaned against his side providing as much as you could without bruising his ego. As he looked down at you, you could see the shift in gaze, darkening at you wearing his clothes.

He abruptly stopped and walked you back until your back hit the brick wall behind you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, the other sliding down to the small of your back pushing you against him. As he leaned his forehead against your own, your hands trailed up - one hand resting against his chest, the other coming up to curl around the back of his neck. Your legs slightly opened allowing his thigh to slot in between your own.

Just as he leans down to finally lock your lips in what was sure to be a passion infused breathtaking kiss, a shocked gasp interrupted him. An incredibly deep and agitated groan escaped Aemond, was having a brief uninterrupted moment with the love of his life really so much to ask for?

Slowly pulling away from each other, detangling your limbs you looked over at where the sound came from. It was Billy, the little boy from a few doors that had an affinity for sneaking out while his parents were distracted. Walking over you crouched down before him, “Hey Billy, are you alone sweetheart?”

He hesitated before slightly nodding his head “…yeah”.

“Are your mum and dad upstairs?”, prompting another small nod of his head.

“Well then I guess Aemond and I should take you back up to them, right Aemond?” You said over your shoulder.

Aemond, in return gave a deadpan look - to which you responded with your own - but eventually nodded wrapping an arm around you, pulling you inside as Billy’s little hand grasped your own.

Walking over towards the lifts Aemond went inside and pressed the up button. That’s when you noticed the out of service sign and couldn’t help but chuckle at how the universe seemed to be plotting against him tonight. 

Taking a deep breath to steady himself he ushered you and Billy up the stairs before following after, which proved to take a lot longer than initially thought due to Billy’s much smaller legs climbing up to the fourth floor. Finally arriving you quickly stepped across the hallway walking past your door to the flat three doors down and rang the doorbell.

It was safe to say Billy’s mother had quite the shock when she pulled it open to be met with her son, the friendly neighbour and her sometimes friendly boyfriend standing before her. Recovering quickly she immediately began chastising Billy for wandering off again and profusely thanking the two of you for returning him safely. Reassuring her that it was no trouble at all, you allowed Aemond to drag you away back up the hallway and into your own flat.

Closing the door behind him, he turned to you the same predatory glint in his eye returning as he eyed you up and down, drinking you in.

As you pushed  Aemond up against the door to your bedroom, he removed his coat from around you, throwing it to the floor all while kissing each other as though your lives depended on it. Parting from him you turned the doorknob behind him, pulling him behind you with a finger curled around one of the belt loops on his trousers.

Moving him to sit on the bed, you pulled his sweater off along with the top he was wearing underneath. You then guided him to stand and instructed him to take off his trousers and pants as you removed your own dress and leggings. As he returned to full height, stark naked he gazed into your eyes, waiting. 

Parting your legs before you, you slightly tilted your head down and that’s all the prompting he needed as he gracefully fell to his knees before you. Hooking your left leg over his shoulder, he began kissing up your leg - starting at your calf- licking and sucking as he went.

When he finally reached the apex of your thighs your body fell back against the mattress as he licked as though it was his final meal, nose rubbing against your clit, tongue dipping inside your core. Moans and whimpers escaped your lips as you pleaded - unsure of what for but he seemed to understand as he drove you closer and closer to your release.

Finally with his whisper of “let go for me, my love” you tipped over the edge, thighs shaking and back arched, fisting the sheets.

Climbing up the bed, Aemond’s hand stoked your hair bringing you down from your high. Flipping over onto your stomach, you brought your hand down to wrap around him before sitting up to straddle his thighs, pushing him back to lean against the headboard. Reaching back to unclip your bra, you threw it in the direction he’d discarded your panties.

Re-taking his length in your hand, you guided him to meet your entrance, sinking down you both let out pleasured groans. As he reached up towards your breasts, you took both hands in yours and pinned them by his sides - intertwining your fingers as you moved up and down. Leaning over to kiss him again, you allowed him to move from your lips, down your neck and chest until they wrapped around one of your nipples - alternating between the two between chants of your name.

Switching so your hips were now rotating in circles and grinding against him to make him brush against your g-spot. Releasing his hands you allowed him to touch you all over. Moving your hand to circle his throat you felt his heart beating erratically as the other hand moved to brace yourself against his hard chest as you leaned forward which allowed him to piston his hips up, chasing both of your releases.

When he felt you squeezing him tighter than before he moved a hand down to your clit, driving you to your release as he chased his own. Staring into each other's eyes you fell apart together while you collapsed against his chest. Arms wrapping around you, he rolled you to your side, pressing a kiss to your lips as he left to grab a rag to clean the both of you up.

Returning, he pulled you against his chest as you both felt the built up exhaustion from your day overcoming you. Before allowing sleep to whisk you away, you once again made eye contact, gazes expressing nothing but the pure depth of love you hold for each other. Regardless of how the day didn’t go to plan, in the end you had each other and that’s all that mattered.

[moongazeonastarfillednight]

Some Ice terms definitions to be used as reference, Courtesy of one Sir John Ross (1777-1856)

Extract of the Narratives of his second voyage

Never thought the sky actually looked different if land was around or water :o

[gibsongirlsundaymorning]

After all this time… (Night Two, Part One)

A/N: Part 2 is going to be uploaded in 2 parts- here’s the first! Hope you like it, please comment anything you want to see in the future!! 😊

Synopsis: You come home with your childhood best friends, Billy and Tommy during your break at college, and instead of going to your own house, you stay at theirs with them and their mother… who you’ve had a huge crush on since before you can remember. As the visit goes on, you find it more and more torturous with your forced proximity and how she only seems to get more beautiful as the years pass. (READ PART ONE TO UNDERSTAND HOW THIS PICKS UP)

Warnings: More and more tension, seriously insane tension, pet names, milf!Wanda to the max.

Pairing: Mom!Wanda x Student!Reader (fem)

The next morning, you woke to the sound of Wanda’s voice at your door, but much different than the night before. “You awake, hon?” She called into your room. Eager to see the woman’s face and regain her approval after the way she left you last night, you sprung out of the bed and opened the door. Cold air hit you quickly, making you suddenly very aware of the skimpy pajamas you’d worn to bed, but the woman’s traveling gaze made your skin burn once again. “This is cute… must be cold though, huh?” You cross your arms over your chest at this in a mix of embarrassment and the flustered feeling her words and eyes brought to you.

“Oh, I usually don’t wear much to bed, I layer up a ton of blankets, sorry.” You trail off at the end of the sentence with a giggle and look down to your feet. A finger finds itself under your chin once again and forces you to make eye contact with Wanda, on of her eyebrows slightly lifted as she sucks her teeth with a slight tsk as she speaks to you once again. “You know I’m not upset, right?”

“For what I’m wearing? Well, I wasn’t sure, but I was hoping you wouldn’t find it inappropriate or anything- I was planning on changing before I left the room and everything!” She laughs at this, and you’re not sure whether it’s endearing or mocking. “No, honey, that’s not what I was talking about, but I’m certainly not upset about this cute little get up. But I was talking about last night. I know we split on a more… stern note from myself, but I wanted you to know I’m not upset. Just had to put you in your place a bit. I know you’re such a smart girl, but you won’t be having a smart mouth with me, alright?”

“Yes, Ms. Maximoff, and I’m so sorry, I really wasn’t thinking at all… To be honest, I also don’t really ever drink, so I think I was just a little bit off all night. I really am sorry, and I didn’t mean to snap at all.” She smiles brightly at your response. “So eager to please, aren’t you?” You can’t help but nod. “Well then, we’ll forget all about it, ok? But call me Wanda. And don’t make me tell you again.” She points at you with those last words, but you know she’s saying it in a lighthearted manner when her serious look fades into a big smile and she pulls you into a hug. Maybe you’d be able to get through these couple of days after all!

In fact, after you had breakfast with all 3 Maximoffs, Wanda announced that she was off to a hair appointment, leaving you alone with the boys to catch up for the day. Shortly after she left, Billy and Tommy filed into their car and pulled you in after them before speeding off to an arcade on the other side of town.

After a few hours of playing various games and being sucked into the hypnosis of a claw machine built to make the player fail, dropping the plush toys in the glass case at the very last second before you could reap the prize, you headed back towards their home, hitting many thrift stores and any random places that looked fun on the way back.

After pulling back into the driveway, Wanda’s car sitting in the adjacent spot reminds you very quickly of her presence after your short period of forgetfulness. When you three walked in the front door, your senses were once again overridden with the warm, floral presence of your friends’ mother, your cheeks graced nearly immediately by a bright blush as she looks you up and down as she greets you. “Hi, guys! How was it?” She turns to you specifically, “I see someone likes to shop, huh?”

You look down at the immense number of shopping bags in your hands, not realizing before how many had accumulated over your trip until now, also noticing the way the handles were digging into your hands as you drop a few by the hallway that leads to your and Wanda’s rooms. She drops her taunting tone and reaches out for your hands to see why you’re wincing in their direction. “You alright?”

“Oh, yeah, just the handles, I’m all good. I do really like to shop when I’m in town, you’re right about that much.” You laugh lightly.

“Well, if you three don’t have something planned for tomorrow, would you boys mind if I take Y/N up to the big mall in the center of town? I don’t want you two driving that far, and besides, I think your uncle wanted to take you out to lunch while you’re home.” The boys shrug and turn back to their bags of new (old) hats and comics. “Sure, whatever!”

She turns back to you with a cocked eyebrow. “You up for it?” You nod a bit too quickly. She laughs at your eagerness and nods in confirmation of the plans. “Alright, it’s a date then!” Her wording was criminally torturous and she had to know it. Desperate to change the topic, you nod to her hair, which was gathered in a towel atop her head. “I thought you were going out to get your hair done? Did they not shampoo you and all there?” She looks up and laughs as if she had forgotten her own actions. “I always rewash my hair after I get a new cut or color- It’s very stubborn and other people just don’t know how to deal with it, so I redo the styling after every appointment.” You nod in acknowledgement before noting that yours was the same way.

She hums in thought. “I never remembered your hair being too difficult, honey. Wasn’t I the one who taught you how to braid your hair?” You chew on your cheeks at the memories that were now flooding back. “Yeah, you were. I’m still not sure how you managed that, no one else has ever been able to do anything with my hair…”

She smirks at the sound of that before saying “Well, I guess I just know how to tame your stubbornness, huh? Sometimes it just takes a certain touch.” You’re not sure how you hadn’t melted into a puddle by the time she reached out to a lock of your hair and raked her fingers through it, lightly pulling when she got to the end. It was impossible to tell if this was on purpose or not, but you knew for certain that she caught the way you lightly gasped at and leaned into the tug, her eyes immediately darkening and snapping to your own before she brought her hand back to her own person. She gives you just a bit of mercy when she turns halfway to the boys.

“Hey, I think we should go out into town for dinner tonight because… I don’t feel like cooking. We’ll all leave in about an hour, so you should all start thinking about getting into some nice-ish clothes, alright?” The boys nod and head up to their room, you and Wanda going back to your own.

Sorting through your bags and not finding much to suit the occasion, you settle on your go-to jeans and a soft, form-fitting black top. You top it off with a few necklaces and replaces your bottom studs with hoop earrings, spray a nicer perfume, and throw some light makeup on. When you step out of your room at the same time as Wanda, you’re first startled by the synchronization and then left speechless by her effortless beauty.

She’s styled her new haircut, which perfectly frames her face with feathery bangs and a few shaggy layers. It’s young cut that brings out the older woman’s youthful energy and makes you want to drop to your knees in front of her.

Aside from that, she’s chosen a light and dewy style of makeup- a light brushing of mascara and peachy blush kissing her cheeks, bringing out her naturally dramatic cheekbones- and a classy outfit that affected you greatly despite its simplicity: a low-cut black tank bodysuit and straight-cut dark wash jeans. “Looks like we’re matching, sweet girl. How did that work itself out?” She taunts, and your eyes wander to the way slight crows feet announce themselves in the corners of her eyes while she flashes you a smile that makes your head spin.

“I guess great minds think alike, Mrs. Maximoff.” You say the first thing that comes to mind, the rest of your brain short-circuiting at the sight of the woman. She calmly saunters forward just a step, closing the gap between you and forcing you to tilt your head upwards as the additional height created by her black high-heeled boots. As she crosses her arms just below her chest, though, you feel your eyes falter and fall down on instinct. “No, eyes up.” She speaks in a familiarly stern tone, and you look up, biting down on your bottom lip as a flustered warmth covers your face. “And I’m not going to tell you again, little girl,” she brings her thumb up to your chin and drags your lip out of the painful reach of your teeth, “call. Me. Wanda.” Her head is now tilted a bit to the side, her eyes fixed on your bottom lip as it regains color, studying the marks your teeth left on them.

She continues speaking, though this time with a sickly sweet quality, her tone softer now. “And ‘great minds,’ really? I know I tell you you’re my smart girl, but you seem to think I’m yours. Am I right about that, honey?” Your chest rises and falls quickly as your heart rate and breaths quicken at her teasing words.

“You’re… yes, you’re incredibly intelligent, ma’am.” You wince and correct yourself. “Wanda.” She sighs and pushes her tongue into her cheek before talking again.

“No, no, I think ‘ma’am’ is okay, actually. You can have that one. But you didn’t answer my question. Do you think of me as your smart girl?” Your mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, but no words come out. “Well?”

Your head falls along with your gaze once again, the sight of her soft skin and exposed chest does no help to your efforts to grasp for words. Just when she takes her signature hold on your jaw and forces your eyes to lock with her own, Tommy calls out for her, followed by Billy. The boys were waiting impatiently to leave, minds driven by hunger.

Her grip softens and her eyes drop to the ground as she chuckles. Looking at you once again, she leans forward and lets her lips ghost the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Saved by the bell. Lucky girl.” She pulls back and turns on her heels, disappearing into the doorframe of her room before coming out once more, having produced an oversized denim jacket matching her jeans. “Can’t have you staring at me like that in front of the boys, now can we?” She asks as she rests one hand on your shoulder, letting it run across your chest as she walks towards the front door.

…………………………………………………………………………

Part one of night two! I hope to have the ending of this part out soon. I apologize for my slow uploading schedule, but I want to build the tension in this story the right way and put as much detail in as possible :) Let me know what you think and leave any requests as always! ❤️

Tags: @dandelions4us @bees-for-brains @scxrlett-wid0w @ahintofchaos @rosekjsses @lonliestafterparty @chlondykebar @mommywandas @w1theredroz3 @bella423 @mrsromanovaa @watashiwaglr38

[byuntrash101]

milkshake. — 정.우영

f!reader x sub!wooyoung ft. seonghwa & san smut | mdni 3k wooyoung needs to impress the ceo and chairman to get the newly open cfo position and for that he's planning to go all out, show off everything he's got. including his precious, stunning and bewitching wife: you. nsfw tags under the cut

#20: riding + nipple play (twt p☆rnlink) office!au, ceo!seonghwa, chairman!san, husband!woo, billionnaire boys club vibes (very wealthy), trophy wife!reader, babysitter!yeosang (mentionned), the three of them worship reader, woo is a fierce business man by day but your good boy by night, mommy kink, cowgirl, unprotected sex (they are married so i'll allow it for once), brief voyeurism from hwa and san, nipple play, wooyoung lowkey has an oral fixation, also he's obsessed with your boobs, actually the others are also obsessed with your boobs (your milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard), lactation, lots of praises, creampie, cockwarming, lowkey wholesome (idk im in my feels)

a/n: yeah for my first woo fic! cant believe it took me this long but i actually absolutely love this piece. it really feels like woo idk like kinda very determined and ambitious but also simping for the one he loves in private... i love him ok? 😣

3k celebration | ateez masterlist | navigation

divider: @lavendergalactic

“I was just with Yeosang on the phone.” You settled the burgundy lips stick and grabbed your favorite blush. “He said she was exhausted after playing with uncle Sangie all day” you giggled picturing your little girl running around making his uncle crazy.

“Are you really going to wear that?” Wooyoung said as he lifted the dress you had chosen for tonight off the hanger with an almost disappointed expression.

You put down the blush powder and the brush you were holding to lower the volume of your “getting ready” playlist. You sighed, scanning your husband’s distressed face then the scrunched up material in his large balled fist. 

“What’s wrong with this dress? You’ve always liked it and isn’t black your favorite color?” 

“Yes it is but we need to make a strong impression tonight!” Wooyoung said, discarding the dress on the shared bed and disappearing in the adjacent walk-in closet. You shrugged and went back to your blush, time was running out and you still had to do something with your hair that was in the time being wet and wrapped in a towel.

“I have to show just how successful we are to show them how much more I can do for the company. I just have to get the job, '' Wooyoung said while rummaging through your wardrobe.

The CFO position had opened and Wooyoung was not about to miss his chance for a stupid simple black dress. Tonight was about showing off everything he got from the luxurious penthouse apartment in the heart of Seoul to the expensive sports cars tucked away in the garage and of course that included you. Without a doubt his most treasured accomplishment. His beautifully stunning wife. 

His fingers brushed over the sequins he was looking for and he pulled from the hanger a beautiful bodycon long dress. It was corseted at the waist and of a beautiful fiery red. It gave the exact message wooyoung wanted to convey: “alluring, daring, bold”.

He remembered when he saw you for the first time when he was just an intern finishing off university and entering the cruel cold world of business. Wooyoung fell for you on the spot. And the thing with this man is that he always gets what he wants. He was absolutely charming, witty, funny and of course obsessed with you. How could you not fall for him too? A year later he was buying you the ring. And you saw him year after year climbing the corporate ladder, making the right decisions, the right connections until he led the both of you here. 

You made the right choice when you picked him and his company will make the right choice when they’ll promote him. He’ll show them tonight.

He came back from the dressing room as you were taking the towel off your head. 

“Here, wear this!” he said, laying the dress on the bed. You approached him and pointed at the rather revealing dress. 

“Are you sure about this one?” you asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

“Absolutely certain” 

You shrugged once again and unwrapped your satin lounging gown to slip on the dress. As soon as you turned around, Wooyoung's heart jumped in his throat. The dress looked practically sewed onto your skin. It was kissing your frame beautifully and highlighting your womanly features perfectly. 

His eyes dropped to your decolletage and he swallowed hard trying to push back the thought of shoving his face right in your chest, pulling on the red fabric to make your breasts jump out, wrapping his lips around your nipples, sucking them, nibbling at them until they hardened under his hot tongue. Beg you to wrap your hand around his leaking coc-

“If your goal was to show off then it’s mission accomplished” you said, pulling Wooyoung out of his inner turmoil. You shook your shoulder slightly and your husband’s eyes diligently followed the swaying of your breasts which made you smirk. You knew he was holding back with everything he got. He never was able to resist you but you enjoyed watching him try.

“You’re so fucking hot” he breathed out, jaw hanging loose.

“Woo! You don’t think you should be a little more refined than that? That kind of behavior won't impress CEO Park and Chairman Choi” you chuckled as your husband reluctantly peeled his eyes off your chest to settle on your smoked out eyes.

You were a vixen goddess, created solely to have men kneeling at your feet. It was the only explanation that made sense.

Wooyong pulled on the Fendi blazer and checked his Rolex. Time was definitely running out but…

“Fuck them” Wooyoung huffed, taking a step towards you and pulling on the dress to reveal the object of his every fantasies. 

“Woo!! We’re going to be late” you slapped his shoulder, chuckling. He didn’t even last a handful of seconds.

“Please” he puffed quietly, wrapping his large hand around the lump of flesh lightly squeezing it, watching it ooze out of his grasp. He already sounded desperate. And you knew he was by the way his rock hard cock was pressing on your hip. But just in case you didn't catch on yet, Wooyoung made it very clear.

“Please, mommy. Let me have just a little taste” he looked up at you with such pleading eyes. Nothing of the fierce and determined business man he was a second ago and will be in a minute from now.

“Fine baby.” you admitted defeat and instantly wooyoung wetted his pretty lips and wrapped them around your nipples sucking on the bud and pressing them with his palm until they started leaking his favorite treat. So warm, velvety and sweet. Perfect.

He didn’t waste a single drop hungrily sucking and swallowing in big gulps. You moaned at your husband’s fervor before pushing him out lightly.

“Enough”.

Wooyoung extended his neck just to prolong the pleasure for a brief second before he popped off your chest with a lewd wet sound. 

He wiped the milk with his thumb. “Go and get ready” He said before licking a drop o white milk on his thumb. So he turned on his heels and left.

In the next minutes you did your hair in an elegant updo that complimented the rest of the ensemble. And you finished off the look with a pair of opened toed high heeled sandals.

Meanwhile Wooyoung tended to the rest of the preparations and just as he went over the menu one last time with the private chef the doorbell rang. 

“CEO Park, Chairman Choi, please enter” Wooyoung said politely inviting the guests in. 

“Aaaah Wooyoung-ah!” Mr Park tapped Wooyoung’s shoulder in a friendly manner. “Thank you for having us” Mr Choi said, lightly bowing his head, as always his manners were irreproachable.

“Very nice place” Mr Park noted as he admired the high ceiling of the hall and the huge stairway leading to the upstairs.

“Thank you, CEO Park” Wooyoung smiled politely.

“Come on, call me Seonghwa!” he said, tapping his shoulder once again. “We might have to work a little closely, so we better get used to being familiar, huh?” Mr Park gave a light squeeze on his shoulder. Wooyoung’s eyes turned round with surprise. He turned to Mr Choi to make sure he heard correctly and the latter gave him a small knowing smile that creased his cat-like eyes. Wooyoung’s face brightened up, things were going even better than he expected.

“Right, Sannie?”

“Of course! You played your cards well up until now. There’s no reason we should change our minds tonight, right?” The Chairman smiled again.

“Yes! Of course, sir” Wooyoung bowed respectfully and returned the bright smile, radiating. “Please follow me to the living space. My wife will join us short-”

“I’m here, honey” You said from the top of the stairs. Gently picking up your red dress before descending.

As soon as you appeared all three heads whipped to you. You were absolutely stunning, captivating their gaze with just the way your legs were supporting you and letting you down the stairs so elegantly. Wooyoung’s smile grew twice as large when he saw from the corner of his eyes Mr Park’s talkative mouth close in surprise and Mr Choi mechanically pull on the collar of his italian tailored shirt that suddenly felt a little tight. He knew they wanted to throw themselves on their knees and kiss your feet. It was in their mortal nature to worship a goddess like you. 

“Please excuse me. I was held back for a while” you simply excused yourself while the two other men thickly swallowed and tried to regain composure to start articulating something that sounded intelligible. 

“There’s no need to apologize,” Mr Park said, round eyes turning sharp all of a sudden. “You look sublime, Madam” You giggled as he took your hand and laid a soft kiss on the back. 

“Oh thank you, what a charmer” you laughed exchanging a winning look with your husband. 

You knew how much he liked to see other men eyeing you like candy knowing he was the one holding your hand every day and tasting you every night. He loved to show you off. Seeing other men drooling over you, imagining in a split second how a night with you would feel just reminds him you are his. His only. They can look all they want that only fuels your husband.

And the spell was definitely casted as Mr Choi’s gaze was inevitably pulled by the magnetic power of your cleavage, he eyed your chest with little to no restrain. The legendary Choi Clan’s princely manners didn’t last long, Wooyoung thought, grinning to himself.

“Mr Choi, you bowed respectfully making the man blush slightly as he also bowed.

“Mrs. Jung.”

“Please follow me. Let's sit and enjoy tonight” Wooyoung said, saving Mr Choi from more embarrassment. 

As the evening  progressed you all had drinks before moving on to the meal. You captured the attention more than once of the two other men trying so hard not to look below your neckline. Of course they couldn't. But Wooyoung really shined through. He was talking strategy and finance for the company but also knew how to entertain the guests. He was funny but also incredibly competent. That much was obvious. Of course he was! He was your husband. Nothing resisted him. Not even you. 

At some point the night was well advanced, the house staff all went home and after so long you just couldn’t handle anymore of all this attention on you, you needed a little break from it all. You excused yourself to the bathroom. 

Since you had deserted the battlefield you figured you would send a small encouragement to your husband. You took your phone and hit ‘record’. You pulled down the dress once again, making your breast jump out of the fabric, they were so full, already pearling. You lightly palmed them with one hand and pinched your nipple, making yourself moan in release before pulling on it making your tit spurt out a big squirt of white warm milk, you sighed and moaned, your milk spilling on the marble floors. You barely managed to keep your voice down and you figured you should probably stop there before you make an even bigger mess. So you hit ‘send’.

“Where did you find her, Wooyoung-ah? She’s incredible. Right, San?” Mr Park asked, blatant admiration in his voice made airy with the alcohol. Wooyoung laughed, happy to add yet another name to the long list of your suitors. 

“She is quite the lady isn’t she?” Mr Choi agreed, tilting his head back and downing the rest of his whisky, already crimson red in the cheeks.

Wooyoung’s phone chimed when he pulled it out he noticed it was a video file he muted his phone and played the video, without realizing the other two were peeping at the screen. He immediately felt his pants grow tighter as you pulled on the dress revealing your breasts. And when you squirted the milk out he was about to lose it.

“Fuckkk” Mr Choi let out in a quiet whisper.

“Wow” Mr Park breathed simultaneously.

Both their voices were drenched in need and transpired arousal beyond comprehension. Even though they were sitting, there was no need to see below their waistline to know they both were hard and leaking.

All three men looked at each other in shock. For a second silence fell between them. Wooyoung knew he could have been a little more careful and the other two knew they shouldn’t have peeped but it was too tempting. You were too tempting. 

“Looks like she needs you right there, Wooyoung-ah” Mr Choi said before sitting up. “I think we overstayed our welcome. Are you ready to go, CEO Park?”

Wooyoung accompanied them to the front door despite the discomforting tightness of his pants but it was an issue the other two were sharing. 

“I believe we’ll see you in your new office on Monday, CFO Jung?” Mr Choi winked at Wooyoung and went on his way while Mr Park stayed back.

“You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?” he added before joining Mr Choi.

As soon as Wooyoung closed the front door he ran upstairs with big strides to your bedroom where he found you waiting for him standing in the middle of the room. 

“You did such a good job today, Youngie” you said, spreading your arms where he immediately engulfed himself, nuzzling your neck with his nose that you loved so much. You sat him on the edge of the bed while you stood and his face slipped from your neck to your breasts. 

Finally his happy place.

“You were such a good boy for mommy today”

“I was?” he looked up at you with loving, sparkly eyes.

“Yes of course you were, CFO Jung”

“Fuck it sounds so good when you say it” He huffed and you chuckled. 

“You deserve your reward” you zipped down the red gown and let it pool at your feet. Wooyoung almost exploded just looking at you. He wanted to be all over you, to worship you but he knew better than to say anything. He knew he just had to wait and so he did when you stripped him off his clothes until you were both in your simplest forms. 

You pushed on his chest until he was leaning back on his elbows, feet still flat on the floor.

“You’re going to be a good boy and let mommy ride your pretty cock?”

“Y-Yesss mommy. I’ll be g-... fuck- I’ll be so good for you” he panted as you pumped his cock a couple of times between your fingers before straddling him and aligning hm with your entrance. “Look at me baby” you whispered as you were lowering your hips, Wooyoung eyes snapped to yours, they looked so distressed, they were begging for help. And you were about to grant his wish.

“Nhhgggg Fffff- Mommy~” Wooyoung’s last two brain cell were officially bing fried beyond recognition as he felt your warm and wet pussy taking him. You felt like heaven, so tight but so welcoming. So fucking perfect that he had to focus on anything that wasn’t you not to bust immediately. He looked at the moldings on the ceiling or the subtle diamond pattern of the satin sheets just so he could last for you. Be good for you. It was what he desired most. He wanted to make you feel good.

“Mmmhh so good my baby” you cooed, your voice a tad strained. You too were pretty worked up and you knew you wouldn’t last long. All this teasing made you quite impatient and you started to rock your hips back and forth immediately taking a rhythm that you knew was aiming the both of you straight to the finish line. 

“Fuck mommy please I want t-… nghhh- to have mommy’s milk” Wooyoung cried as his cock throbbed inside you. You wrapped your hand around his nape and brought his mouth to your tit. 

“Drink up, baby”

“Fank youph” Wooyoung said his mouth full eagerly sucking on your nipples while your hips rolled and bucked against his, making him see stars and forget about anything that wasn’t you and him. The precious nectar flooded his mouth and he swallowed in thick gulps, white and sweet milk spilling down his chin and dripping onto his abs. 

“Good boy, good baby” you huffed as you picked up the pace earning another perfectly muffled moan from your devastatingly cute husband. You were very close, your cunt clenching down on Wooyoung’s length like it was the last time ever.

“Now you’re gonna cum for ma baby Okay?” you panted. “Make mommy nice and full with your cum, okay?”

“Yeshyeshyesh” Woyoung mumbled, sucking even harder on your hard and leaking nipple. Urging you to rutt your hips even faster making him whine and whimper as his cock was ready to implode inside you.

“Fuckk baby you’re so good. So so good for me~~” 

“Mommyyy” Woyoung said, finally losing it as he took your nipple between his teeth harshly pulling at the skin, squirting a stream of milk onto his wet tongue while he pumped you full of piping hot cum.

You moaned and arched your back as you came undone, the stimulation on your tit paired with the delicious filling sensation in your lower stomach swept you off in a wave of mind numbing pleasure, your cunt throbbing around Wooyoung’s cock until it was certain he had given you everything he had to offer. 

You stayed exactly like this. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tight to your chest as you both tried to catch your breath, mind pleasantly fuzzy after an intense orgasm.

After a while you pulled back slightly, careful to not let his softening cock slip out, keeping him nice and snug inside your heat. You kissed his pretty and reddened face, his cheeks, moles,  nose and lips. Everywhere you could, pushing his dampened hair out of his pretty eyes.

“Excellent work, CFO Jung. The company is lucky to have you. But I’m even luckier.”

a/n: thanks for reading <3333

3k celebration | ateez masterlist | navigation

[kirishwima]

Ohhh pookie i meant to say like they get mad (maybe yell) at her and she starts crying and starts ignoring them for a week i love angst BOOKIE 😩💔🗣️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️❗❗❗❗‼️‼️‼️

+ shiu kong & toji they fine ass mfs 😩‼️

not u putting Mahito up there looking SO YUMMY (pls. i know hes an asshole but he's my guilty pleasure)

anyway, I love this kinda angst, and I've already written a kinda-adjacent smau, so...here's a drabble instead!

JJK guys arguing with you when you tell them you crashed their car

Gojo is pissed. He runs his hand through his hair, and not even his blindfold can protect you from the seething glare he shoots your way.

"You what?!"

You try to explain it away-it was an accident, you didn't mean to, it won't happen again! But you know that though the guy has a dozen different sports cars, the one you borrowed was his prized possession, one he only let you drive because it's you, and well, you're his other most prized possession, in a way.

You expected him to be irritated, to maybe say a word too many while fueled with anger.

What you didn't expect was the yelling. The cussing, all of it reaching a deafening crescendo when he, exasperated, huffs out;

"God, can't you do anything right?"

It felt like the world came crashing down on you, tears welling up in your eyes before you even realized it. Satoru saw that, of course he did, his anger that was boiling and spilling over now freezing cold, his hands reaching out towards you, hovering at your sides.

"Wait I don't-I mean I didn't mean it like that-"

But it's too late, as you shy away from him, wiping tears with closed fists.

He's never been good at comforting you, never knows what to say...he can usually take your mind off of whatever upset you with silly jokes and his trademark humor, but what can he do when he's the cause of it? He simply doesn't know. So he pulls away, lets his hands drop to his sides, mad at you partly, yes, but most of all mad at himself for taking a petty argument too far.

He doesn't talk to you for days. Grabs his pillow and heads to the spare bedroom before you can even suggest doing so yourself, will use the excuse of missions to stay away from you, anything he can do to give you space. He doesn't know how to fix this, you've always been the one urging him to talk about his feelings in this relationship, to stop repressing all he has to say, but without your guidance he's just a lost boy, hurt and uncertain.

He doesn't know what to do-so he does what he does best. Repress, and suppress. Even if the guilt eats him up from the inside.

Geto doesn't say anything at first. He looks to the scratch on his car, arms crossed over his chest, as you helplessly try to explain how it happened, standing right beside him with a pleading look.

He only listens to you half-heartedly, for the most part lost in his own mind, trying to repress the anger threatening to push out of his chest, red and bubbling up to his neck like a witch's cauldron over heat. He knows how scary he can be when he's mad, and as upset as he is with you, the last thing he wants to do is scare you.

"Suguru please...talk to me?" you ask him, meek and quiet and all he can do is offer you a side-eyed glare, expression icy cold.

He doesn't say anything-instead turns and walks away, leaving you to stand there by yourself, tearing up at the thought of him leaving over this. He didn't say a word, nothing-does he just not care enough to argue with you? Was this the final straw in a long list of stupid arguments you've been having lately?

For a week, he barely talks to you. There's nothing but silence between you when you're both at home, though that's a rare occurrence in itself, most of his time spent outside the house-presumably to stay away from you. You buy paint to fix the scratch on the car, only to find out he's already gotten it fixed, without telling you.

For a couple nights you slept in the same bed, backs turned to each other, even if it got uncomfortable, even if your whole body itched with the need to turn around and bury your face against his chest.

He thought he was protecting you by acting this way-he had no clue it'd drive a wedge even further into your relationship.

The third day you got out of bed when you thought he was asleep, grabbed your pillow and a blanket and slept on the couch. Yet somehow in the morning, you woke up in bed again. This kept happening for a few days, though neither of you ever brought it up.

Suguru wanted to talk to you, fix things-he wanted to so bad, but the thought of you potentially looking to him with disdain, or even worse-with fear in your eyes, was too much for him to bear. So he stayed away. He'll continue to do so, unless you make the first move.

Nanami sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose-like a father tired of having to scold his child. And he plays the part, makes you feel so small as he chastises you over the mishap, his tone never rising, not really, though irritation quite clearly seeps into his voice.

"Kento, I know I made a mistake-" you start, trying to show him your point of view, but he quickly shuts you down with an annoyed glare.

"A mistake would be one thing. This is just plain stupid."

And you feel your very heart clam up, seeing the man you love assess you so coolly. He doesn't say much else after that, merely that 'he'll get it fixed' before getting up, leaving you alone in the living room, your knuckles turning white with the way you dug your fingers onto your lap to keep from screaming.

He's not exactly...distant, but he's definitely colder in the upcoming days. Nanami's never been a fan of PDA, so on the surface, things look relatively normal. But at home? He avoids your touch expertly, like he would when maneuvering away from a cursed spirit's attack, he sleeps on the very edge of the bed-yet stubbornly continues to sleep in the same bed as you, toying between the lines of anger and care that has you pulling at your own hair.

You'd think he'd be more mature-he has that vibe about him, is always so responsible. And yet he never knows how to handle his own emotions, especially not when it comes to you. He'll have dinner ready for you on the kitchen counter when you get home from work, yet he won't take a seat and eat with you like he usually would. He'll do the laundry when it's his turn to do so, expertly fold it and store your clothes at their exact usual place, yet won't have a single conversation with you on the matter. He's the best roommate you could have-but as a boyfriend, that's a whole other story.

You know he cares, deep down he still loves you...but he's stubborn, always has been, and won't breech the topic unless you do, first.

Toji is a dick.

He really is. He lent you his car, the best up, old Honda Civic with the rearview mirror missing, the one he's crashed about a dozen times. Yet when you 'fess up to him that you scratched it, he gets so mean.

"You're a dumbass, don't you know how to fuckin' drive?!" he yells, and yells, and yells. Even with tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, he doesn't stop, keeps at it-until he raises a hand to emphasize his point, and you flinch.

He knows he's an asshole. He does, but for you to think he could ever hurt you...he freezes, arm slowly dropping back down, finally quiet.

Toji doesn't know how to apologize. He's never had to before, more used to leaving a difficult situation than bother facing it. But he doesn't want to leave this, leave you-so he stays there, a long moment, noticing the tears in your eyes, the way you avoid his gaze.

He doesn't know why he acts this way, he fucking wishes he did. He knows he loves you, knows he cares so, so much, so why? Why does he act like a feral dog, when he wants you to be his leash so badly?

You're the one that walks away first, turning your back as you exit the room, slamming the door behind you. And for his part, he lets you, afraid he'd bare his fangs and bite if he followed you, even if he doesn't want to. He's left every good thing he ever found in his life, knowing that if he'd stay he'd mess it up, break it beyond repair.

God, he hopes so desperately he didn't ruin you, too. Perhaps he should leave. Before it's too late.

[strawberryforks]

slipping smiles//tim bradford x reader

reckless smiles adjacent (call fic)

warnings: you could have died, swearing, animal-in-danger, no beta we die like my sleep schedule

a/n: writing calls is surprisingly fun! SORRY for the (definite) inconsistencies. asks are open! dedicated to @scenesofobx because your comments have made my day <33 enjoy!

You’re dressed in a cute little workout outfit. Leggings, a cropped skintight long sleeve top with thumb-holes, overtop of that a gray sweater, and over that, a puffer vest that you leave open because it’s not as cold as you thought it would be. The vest you realize, might be a little extra, but you’re already committed now, halfway to your favourite taco truck. It’s your day off and since you can’t just do nothing, you’ve decided to go on a jog. It’s around lunchtime (you’re headed to get yours) and you pick this time purposely—you’re a cop, you’ve seen a lot. Enough that you don’t go running when it’s dark out and when there aren’t other people around—12PM ensures witnesses and sunlight and since you’re jogging on a sidewalk in the suburbs; in a relatively wealthy neighborhood, you don’t expect anything to happen. You run this route often and know that in a little bit, you’ll run across a bridge, that the small lake running underneath will be frost kissed, reflecting sun back at you. You know you might stop to take a picture—what you don’t know is that the group you’re nearing, jogging towards, are buying.

Up ahead, a man with a hood pulled down, obscuring his face passes a brick—not a baggy, a brick—of something into the hands of another man, this one wearing a ball cap and baggy jeans, sans face covering. You reach for your off-duty weapon and the badge you keep tucked into your wallet. “LAPD, hands in the air!”

Because nothing is easy and karma is against you, all hell breaks loose. Two of the guys pull out their guns, one shoots bullet after bullet in quick succession—you dive out of the way, ducking behind a grey civic that acts as a shield, absorbing bullets so you don’t have to. The other two start running and dammit, those ones are the guys who brought the drugs. The ones you really need in custody. You dial 911 and give your general address, you give your name and badge number, “10-57, requesting backup,” then you hangup. You call Chen—knowing she should be patrolling in the area; that she usually does, at least. “Hey! Pursuing armed suspects or about to… would love some help. Drug deal gone—“ and then you hear dispatch regurgitating your earlier words, hear her TO accept the call and then you’re shooting back, running behind other cars paralell parked on the sides of the road, using them as cover, and darting after the two escaping. A bullet whizzes past your side—you turn and bury one in the shooters shoulder. The other man, you shoot in the hand, causing his gun to go flying. Then you’re sprinting after the two. Distantly you hear sirens. Up ahead, alongside the criminals, is a scraggly looking stray. A cop car skids to a halt on the other side of the men, Chen and Bishop jumping out, guns raised. The criminals are now paused atop the bridge, looking at you like they’re planning to go through you, like it's the easier option now that the cavalry has arrived. You approach, another car sliding behind you. This one, Tim Bradford climbs out of, looking like the soldier he was—dangerous, determined. “It’s over! Interlace your hands behind your head!” you shout. The two men, both shot by you, are already stuffed into the backseat of a shop, headed for hospital before they’re to be booked.

The criminals are outnumbered and outgunned. They raise their hands slowly, fingers splaying, guns clattering to the ground and you approach, wrenching brick-boy’s hands behind his back, your own outstretched, waiting for a pair of cuffs to be thrown into them. Tim passes you a pair and you shove the restrained criminal towards your TO, past the cowering stray who the asshole swipes his foot at. The criminal kicks the dog who yelps and is knocked under the guardrail. You shove him harder then, forcing him to his knees in front of officer Bradford as you throw yourself at the fence, peering over where you see water. The dog fell through the thin layer of ice. You see him paddle up once, twice, and then he dips under again. Comeon, comeoncomeoncomeon, you plead. He doesn’t surface. Tim Bradford’s the last person you look at, the one who reaches for you as you vault over the guardrail and take the plunge yourself.

The water is cold. So cold that it seems to slow time down. Everything takes an extra minute, everything slowed as your eyes shoot open, blinking to adjust to the feeling of wetness against them. Underwater, you paddle, spinning around, looking for the dog. You see him, his little legs are frantic, pawing against the water. Still holding your breath, cheeks puffed up, full of air you’re losing faster than you’d like, you make large strides and close the distance between you and the pup. With the dog in your arms you try to surface. A layer of cold glass stops you. You bang your fist against it—breakbreakbreak. Weighed down by panic you climb along the underneath, looking for the crater you fell through. You claw your way to the hole in the ice and the dog surfaces before you do because you stick your hands out, up in the air, and pump your legs as quickly as you can. Your head breaches the water and you grab the ledge of the ice, wincing, terrified, when it gives way, only widening the break in the ice. You push the dog up onto the ice—the solid kind, and watch as it coughs up the cold water you’re still in. The cold water that’s feeling less cold. It's not the water, you know, it’s just you feeling less. Your feet are numb, your hands too. People are shouting but it still feels like you’re underwater. Still feels like something’s blocking your ears. Vaguely, as you attempt to pull yourself onto the ice you see flashing lights. Cop ones, ones from LAFD vehicles, too. There’s an ambulance here—as much for you as the men you shot, if only you could make it to them. If only. You’re getting tired. Sounds blur together, sensations, and colours too. You’re cocooned in a haze, a fog that just keeps getting thicker and thicker. A voice breaks it.

“Boot!” snaps Bradford. He’s closer than the others, you think. “Look at me,” he demands. You do, of course you do. He’s lying on the ice, body weight dispersed over a larger part of it so nothing shatters and he’s reaching out for you. There’s a few blurs behind him, firefighters, you think, telling—yelling at him, but all you can focus on is the words he’s saying. “Focus!”

You do your best.

“I need you to grab my arm. I’ll pull you up,” his hand is reaching towards your own and even though you can place your fingers—can’t feel them, you watch them carefully, making sure you direct your hand into his. Then, Tim pulls you from the water, sliding you along beside him and shifting so you’re between his legs, his forearms wrapped around your chest, holding you tightly. You’re shaking—still are, as two LAFD members drag Tim backwards to the bank, you with him. They take you from him and you didn’t fight his hold but you squirm in theirs, remembering the reason you took the ice-bath in the first place: the dog. “They’re going to help you,” Tim says, “you need to get warmed up.”

Your teeth clash with each other brutally in agreeance but you shake your head. “The d-dog. I-I have to get him, make sure he’s okay.”

Tim shakes his head incredulously. You don’t budge, insistent as ever and finally he relents. “I’ll get the damn dog. You, get warmed up. Listen to them.”

The dog would be okay, Tim would make sure of it—he’d take it to the vet himself, pay the bills, buy it a fucking sweater. Tim would do anything as long as you get seen by the paramedics because your lips were blue and he was terrified.

He hides that fear under a scowl as he searches for the pup and pulls him into his arms. The dog is small—a scraggly chihuahua mix of some kind—and he’s just as cold as you; a little less, thanks to the matted fur he’s covered in. Tim unzipped his jacket and wrapped the dog in it, then he headed up the bank to check on you. You, who had been ushered into the back of the ambulance and despite your assurances, “I’m fine, I’m fine, just a little chilly. Guys, this really isn’t necessary, I could warm up just as easily at home—“ shut in. A woman climbed into the driver's seat, her partner in the back with you and the doors were wrenched open a second time, your TO and the stray in his arms joining you. “I’m riding with her,” he tells the paramedics. He sits down on one of the small half-benches. “You’re okay?”

“Is the dog?”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll take him to the vet to be sure but he seems okay. Now, Boot, answer.”

“I’m okay, just a little cold and sore. Don’t take him to the shelter after the vet. I’ll pay the bill just let me know how much.”

“You want to adopt him?”

“Yeah, I could use a roommate.”