#I may have to retrace my steps here

[lofi-toast]

Mwah!

I'll draw moar >:]]]

Also note : Convictor had to adjust his height for her damn sake even though it's really unnecessary

[hwaightme]

23:13 PM

(masterlist)

🌆pairing: bf!yunho x gn!reader 🌆genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort 🌆summary: to be loved is to be heard, and yunho reminds you of this again and again, knowing you beyond the literal and the expected. 🌆wordcount: 1.5k 🌆warnings/tags: unedited, speedwriting, kissing, mildly suggestive in one part (through a light joke), pet names (angel, princess, sweetness), overthinking, rumination, low mood/sadness, implied anxiety (reader) 🌆taglist: at the bottom. would love to add you if interested <3 🌆a/n: genuinely have been loving yunho's styling so much <33 again another small timestamp to try warm up~ any love is so appreciated!

“Your tone.”

“My what?”

“Your tone was off, that’s why I’m here, so… may I come in or…” you gape at Yunho as he shifts his weight from one foot to another, accompanied by the rustling of a plastic bag in his hands.

“Um… sure?” you step aside and let him pass, taking a moment to register that you do, as a matter of fact, still have to play the role of a welcoming guest despite your current state of mind. 

In a rush you take out some slippers for him and throw a new hand towel by the bathroom sink. He is endearingly awkward even in the midst of having made the bold decision to come here in the first place, you note, and timidly smile to yourself. Yunho’s eyes dart around the entrance and corridor as though he is looking for something.

“Is there anywhere I can leave this?” he lifts the bag, and it hits you that he had brought food. Takeout from a restaurant that you had been raving about on your latest date with him. You feel nauseous and guilty at the thought of him speeding through town at ‘probably should be getting ready for bed o’clock’, firstly to the restaurant, and then all the way to yours. Why did he? He most certainly does not have to. It’s not like you said anything or asked.

“Oh! Yes, sorry, let me take that, I’ll put it on the table,” you make a beeline towards him, freeing him from the takeaway, “The bathroom is-”

“Right here to the left. Sweetness, I do recall being here a few times before,” you catch his smile - reassurance that his comment contains nothing malicious, but nonetheless drop your head, choosing to focus on untying the plastic handles. 

Rustling drowns out the constant noise in your head. On and on it rumbles and cries trying to overpower polystyrene and running water. What did Yunho mean by ‘tone’? Surely you were not texting any differently than you normally did? The usual ‘how are you’s and ‘when are we seeing each other next’s - nothing out of the ordinary. You try to retrace your steps as though you are a criminal on the run having found out that you are now being hunted by police. What is it that let Yunho know of what you were trying to not reveal?

“Need any help?” while you are stuck in your mind again you do not notice Yunho approaching you and gasp in surprise. He tilts his head, obviously having noticed your reaction, but does not comment on it, instead choosing to focus on your choice of dress for the late evening. You try to suppress the embarrassment welling up in the corners of your eyes and that stubborn intensifying lump in your throat as he studies you. Maybe you should have changed, or not let him in, or something else entirely, just so you can be alone.

“I think I’ve got it…” you mumble, having finally undone the knots and commenced taking out the different containers.

“The hoodie,” you glance up at him and immediately meet his glistening brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that I-”

“I think you look beautiful. And adorable. And my heart will give out,” a soft grin, and you swear you could melt, “besides, we did agree to give each other some space in our homes right? The only difference is I’m not sure I would wear what I have at mine since I wouldn’t want to ruin your linger-”

“Yunho!”

“Just saying!”

“Cheeky! Anyways… Do you want water, tea, or maybe Coke?”

“You know exactly which one I’ll pick.”

“Coke it is-”

“Let me get it though. What do you want?” He steps around the table to intercept your path to the kitchen. 

“It’s no big deal.”

“Can’t I treat my princess a little? You already unpacked all the food,” not wanting to make a big deal out of nothing, you surrender to the temptation of doing nothing. 

“Water will be fine.”

“One water coming right up!” you chuckle as you watch your boyfriend move around the kitchen, knowingly opening the right cupboards as if this is as much his place as it is yours. You hide your hands in the sleeves of the hoodie, languidly pushing two chairs back when Yunho tells you to take a seat. 

“Thank you,” you accept the glass, using it as an excuse to not look at Yunho. 

If there is some way in which he can detect shifts in messages, you most certainly can sense when he settles into a more serious version of himself. It is nothing intimidating, of course, but nonetheless, something you presently need to prepare yourself for. He is worried, and it is a little too clear by how closely he positioned his own chair to yours, how he shifted to be almost facing you. How… How does he know?

“Let’s eat! Tell me what you want, point at things, anything!” again, he chooses to avoid interrogating you, you can sense it. His voice is laden with something unreadable, but you do not want to dive into the matter and decide to simply follow what he suggests. On top of avoiding what you fear, you realise that Yunho’s voice is considerably louder than your inner critic. 

You observe his movements. He carefully ladles some soup for you, picks one side dish after another, breaks apart the pieces of another dish you merely glanced at, just to be sure that you are having what you want. In the dimmed lights his navy hair, which usually gives a mesmerising vivid blue gleam appears to be almost black, the elegant strands swept to the side and falling over his forehead reminding you of ink strokes. You recall that he mentioned having a schedule earlier that day, and that same feeling of guilt spreads over your body. What if he is tired? What if said schedule ended later than expected and he did not have a single break? Dealing with his job, dealing with you-

“Try this, it’s apparently a bestseller,” once more, Yunho is the one to take you out of your own paranoia. 

“I’m sorry-” the words escape your mouth before you can process them. A deer caught in the headlights, you are staring at your boyfriend, feeling your pulse quicken. He puts down his chopsticks, completely turning to you, his and your legs pressed close together under the table, his hands searching for yours. Before you know it, more agitation spills and keeps on spilling, “I really did not mean to worry you, I should’ve insisted you rest… I mean you are probably so tired and stressed because of work and-”

“I am here, angel, am I not?”

“You are… but-”

“I both need and want to be here. So what if I had work. Now is not work time. Now is ‘us’ time. Yeah?”

“How?” a little confused, Yunho raises an eyebrow and gently squeezes your hands, “How’d you know?”

“What do I know?” you know that expression. The ‘fully aware of what you mean but wants you to say it’ look. A little unnerving because it makes you look inside yourself, but still possessing an unparalleled charm. Classic Yunho. You crack under his enamoured scrutiny.

“The tone thing… too on the dot. So… how?”

“Ah, that! Surprised you, did I?” Letting go of one hand, he leans onto the table and while resting his head on his palm, holds your gaze, “Just a hunch really. I don’t know how either, maybe my brain has a special ‘you’ alarm in it.”

“Oh come on-”

“What? Very plausible. I like thinking about you, a lot.”

“You really are too sweet,” you leave your original question hanging in the air, unsure if you even need to hear what he will say, or if it will help in any way. Yunho reads your doubts like an open book.

“I mean if I knew for sure, I would tell you. I would tell you everything. But I cannot pinpoint anything in particular. It was this feeling in my chest that bubbled up while we were texting. The words, the sentence structure… it’s you, but it’s you when you’re upset, and I don’t want you to be alone when small steps appear giant.” At a loss for words, you merely nod, biting your lower lip to keep it from trembling, and let his voice echo in your heart.

“You have superpowers I swear,” you force out a barely audible whisper, and gingerly reach to move one of his strands, blushing when he captures your hand and plants a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“Nope, just think about you always.”

“I’m sorry again-”

“Apologise by having dinner with me, and then we can move,” he gestures at the sofa with your intertwined hands, “right over there, and talk through things, if you want to of course. How does that sound?”

“Good,” you move to give him a feather-light kiss, “it sounds good.”

Silence. Total silence aside from Yunho’s warm, loving presence, soft chatter, and the awareness that sometimes, you don’t need to say anything in particular to be truly heard.

🌆taglist: @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @innsomniacshinestar @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @maddkitt @ren-junwrld @marsstarxhwa @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @northerngalxy @my-loves-my-life @http-gyu

enjoyed? i would love to hear from you, it means the universe to me. thank you.

[brokenmenswhore]

the sink | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: modern!aegon x fem!reader

summary (i am so shit at writing summaries): at a party, y/n sees aegon in a compromising position

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), choking, drinking, rough sex, aegon is a lil mean <3

────── ☾ ──────

Parties were never really your scene. You told your best friend, Heleana, that you didn’t really want to go, but she convinced you that you were wasting your chance at university experiences by sitting in your dorm, and she was right. You wouldn’t be in university forever, and you could only truly live right now.

Her brother, Aegon, was campus-renowned for his parties. Heleana & Aegon lived in a rather large mansion off-campus, seeing no need to move onsite and leave such a lavish place, and it was close enough to drive.

You and Aegon never got along. He was arrogant, a playboy, and had no care for his studies or his sister. All he wanted to do was fuck about and drink, and he didn’t like that you gave him attitude whenever he said something particularly ghastly, but you didn’t care. You didn’t like him and you didn’t care if he knew it. You could handle your own with him, and everything he did annoyed you.

You personally hated driving to Heleana’s house. The roundabout driveway only allowed a certain number of cars, and had no definitive parking spaces. It was a free for all, as you told her the second you walked through the door.

“Oh hush, I’m just glad you came,” Heleana smiled, “come! Drinks are in the kitchen.”

Heleana’s house never failed to astound you. You had been here several times, having been close with Heleana for a few years, and still, you didn’t know which room was which. If she asked you to retrieve anything from a specific room upstairs, you’d end up lost.

You followed suit, downing a good portion of a beer the second it was handed to you.

“Eager, are we?” Heleana laughed.

“Oh come on!” you retorted, “you said it yourself, I never get out. Well, I’m out, and I’m not gonna waste it!”

Heleana sipped her beer and giggled at your enthusiasm. “Maybe you should channel that energy into, I don’t know, a boy?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “And why would I do that?”

“You’ve been so wound up and stressed from exams lately, I just think you could use an outlet! Sue me.”

You laughed, not responding as a method of moving on from the subject.

“Fine,” Heleana broke the silence, “but you’re dancing with me.”

“No, I-“

“You’re dancing!”

With that, Heleana pulled you into the living room, forcing you to dance with her. You didn’t mind too much, eventually having fun with the feeling of dancing and the slight buzz in your brain. After a few hours of dancing and mingling, you felt your energy and social battery depleting. Heleana, ever so attentive, noticed.

“Why don’t you go get some air?” she asked.

“There’s a million people outside, Hel,” you responded, “I honestly don’t think it would make a difference.”

“Why don’t you head up to my room then? No one is allowed upstairs. Well, except Aegon, because he lives here, but he’s probably out by the pool drunk or something.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks, Hel.”

You made your way up the stairs, quickly remembering that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. You climbed back down a few steps, looking over the banister to try to find Heleana so you could ask her which room was hers again, but it was to no avail. It would be impossible to find her in this crowd.

I’ve been here a thousand times, you thought, I can find my way to her room, it really can’t be that hard, and I’m really not that drunk.

You turned down the first hallway you spotted, trying to retrace your steps from the last few times you’d been in the house, still denying any sense of drunkenness you felt. You decided on a door you thought may be right, and opened it.

It was not Heleana’s room.

Aegon had his face buried in between a girl’s legs, her body seated on the bathroom sink as he kneeled on the floor, her fingers in his hair. You couldn’t move for a second, completely bewildered by the sight in front of you, as the girl let out a particularly filthy moan. You caught yourself and turned to leave, but right when you clicked the door shut, it swung open again.

“What the fuck are you- oh, it’s just you. Fucks sake, I thought she had a boyfriend that was catching us or something. Don’t scare me like that, Y/N,” Aegon said, chin glistening with wetness.

“That’s very ethical of you, sleeping with someone you know is taken,” you replied, your distaste for him evident in your tone, “I was just looking for Heleana’s room. Sorry.”

“On the other side of the house?”

You looked at Aegon confused, signaling to him that you genuinely had no idea you were in the wrong place.

“Tell me, Y/N,” he started, “have you always looked that fucking good in black?”

Your eyes widened. You had no idea what to say, and based on his breath, he was pretty drunk.

“I- I don’t- what?”

Aegon stepped closer to you, “did you enjoy the show, at least?”

He was a bit too close for a comfortable conversation, and you refused to be embarrassed by Aegon Targaryen of all people. “Isn’t she still in there? Least you could do is finish her off.”

“Who said I didn’t?”

“I don’t have time for this, Aegon,” you sighed, beginning to walk away, but he trapped you in between his body and the wall with his arm.

“Maybe I would be more eager to get back in there if she looked half as good as you do right now.”

“Don’t piss me off,” you spat, “I’m really not in the mood for your shit.”

Aegon pouted. “My ‘shit’ is part of my charm.”

“What charm?” you bounced back.

“You don’t think I’m charming? Wow, Y/N, I’m hurt. Like, genuinely, that cut down to my soul.”

“Aegon, you’re drunk. Now are you just gonna hold me hostage against this wall forever or are you gonna let me leave?”

Aegon looked at you, intently, as if contemplating his options.

“You really want me to go back in there?”

You looked up at him, frustrated and confused. “Why the hell would I care what you do?”

Aegon looked at you for a brief moment before nodding his head, removing his arm from the wall and gesturing you away.

“Thank you,” you said, turning your back to him and walking away.

Heleana reached the top of the staircase at that very moment. “Hey!” she called out, “I was just coming to check in on you.”

“I got lost,” you admitted.

“My god, Y/N,” she laughed, taking your hand and guiding you to her bedroom.

You and Heleana sat on her bed, sobering up and watching movies for a few hours.

“Would you be okay if I crashed here?” you asked her, “I still feel like shit.”

“Of course,” she smiled, “I keep an extra toothbrush in the hallway bathroom just in case.”

“Thank you. I just wish I thought of this earlier, I’d be more prepared.”

“Give me a minute,” Heleana said, leaving you alone in her bedroom.

She returned a few minutes later with a tee shirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

“What the fuck do you want me to do with those?” you asked.

“Aemond is away with his friends somewhere in Europe right now, so he won’t miss them.”

“I’m not wearing your brother’s clothes.”

“Oh, whatever! He’s a giant, they’ll be plenty baggy and comfortable. Plus, he’s not Aegon, you can actually trust that his clothes get washed properly.”

You sighed. You didn’t want to spend the night in what you had on, and no one would ever know you took his clothes anyway. “Fine, but you’re putting them back exactly the way you found them in the morning.”

“Deal!” Heleana smiled, jumping back on the bed as you changed.

The night winded down, and by around three in the morning, Heleana was fast asleep. You took the opportunity to run to the bathroom and get ready for bed.

You stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth and then your hair until all the knots were out. Mid-brush, the bathroom door was violently swung open.

“SHIT! For fucks sake,” Aegon almost screamed, placing a hand over his heart to calm down the startled beating, “what the fuck are you still doing here?”

“Staying over, not that it’s your business.”

Aegon rubbed his eyes as if he just woke up and was adjusting to the light, but you could tell he’d not yet gone to sleep. He scanned you up and down. “Are you wearing my brother’s clothes?” he asked.

You sighed, continuing your routine and not giving him any glances. “Shut up, I didn’t bring any clothes.”

“So you stole my brother’s?”

You turned to him, annoyed that he was still talking to you. “technically your sister stole them for me. I didn’t bring any of my own, and I can’t fit into Heleana’s. Why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and I don’t like you.”

Aegon’s bottom lip jutted out as he inched closer to you, “now why don’t you like me?”

You put the brush down in defeat. “Aegon, it’s three in the morning.”

“And?”

You huffed, “and it’s too late for me to have to deal with you.”

Aegon just looked at you. You waited for him to say or do anything, and when you realized he had no intention of moving, you started to make your way out of the bathroom. That’s when Aegon grabbed you by your waist and slammed you onto the bathroom sink.

“What the fuck, Aegon? Let me down,” you said, trying not to lose your temper as he held you down on the sink.

“You know I asked you a question earlier,” he spoke, voice low and lips close to yours, “and you never answered it.”

“Aegon, I don’t care, let me down.”

“Did you enjoy the show?”

You met his eyes. “The show that I watched for 3 seconds before leaving? The show I didn’t even try to watch, but saw accidentally? Yes, Aegon, how entertaining it was briefly watching you perpetuate cheating.”

“Would it kill you to just be nice to me?”

The question caught you off guard, and admittedly struck a nerve in your heart. He sounded so sincere, so genuine, like he wasn’t trying to play a game or garner a reaction. He truly wanted to know why you were always so sharp with him.

Thinking about it, he had never done anything personally to you. He never hurt anyone, except maybe the girls he never called in the morning, he just didn’t exhibit behavior that you ever would, but none of it was malicious. He just came off like a cocky and overly confident rich kid, but he never knew how to be anything else.

“You’re right,” you said, surprising Aegon, “I’m sorry, I know I can be really pissy with you. I don’t want to be mean to you, you’re just so good at getting under my skin. Also, you’ve ghosted three of my friends, but still, I’m sorry.”

Aegon stared into your eyes for what felt like an eternity.

“You don’t like me because I’ve ghosted your friends?”

“No, Aegon, that’s not the poin-“ you bowed your head, “you’re impossible.”

“So tell me why you don’t like me.”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t!” you exclaimed, “I don’t even actually hate you!”

Aegon smiled, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” You were beginning to get frustrated.

“You like me.”

You scoffed. “Quite the contrary, no offense.”

Aegon tsked, “no no no, I think you like me. I think you like me like me. I think you wish you were sitting in this exact spot a few hours ago when you walked into the ‘wrong room.’”

You threw your head back, “I really was looking for Heleana’s room!”

“Admit it,” he said.

“There’s nothing to admit, you narcissist.”

Suddenly his demeanor changed. He got even closer to you, placing his torso in between your legs, lips almost touching yours. “Admit. It.”

It was a demand, not a request. His eyes were dark and his tone was lower than you’d ever heard it.

“Or what?”

Aegon growled. “or I’ll fuck it out of you.”

Your breathing stuttered.

You were undeniably attracted to him. You always had been, he was gorgeous. Part of your hatred came from jealousy when you would see him with other girls, but you also knew he was a player and fucked around, so you tried your best to turn it off by just fighting him at every turn. However, now, it was early in the morning and late at night all at once, both of your buzzes had faded, and your emotions were overflowing.

“So do it.”

Aegon slammed his lips onto yours, enveloping you into a heated kiss, one of his hands snaking through your hair and pulling roughly until your head was forced back so he could have easier access to your neck. He sucked at a sweet spot right underneath your earlobe, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Shut up,” he demanded.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s three in the morning and my sister is home, so shut up.”

“I barely made any noise,” you retorted.

Aegon paused his assault on your neck to look at you, pulling at your hair roughly. “Stop. Talking.”

Looking into his eyes, you knew it would be better to obey than to continue your back and forth, so you did your best to stay quiet.

Aegon began to kiss lower and lower, eventually kneeling in front of you just as you had seen him before. He began tugging at the waistband of the boxer shorts you were wearing, “I can’t believe you’re wearing his fucking clothes, you could just be wearing mine.”

You giggled, and then acted like you didn’t make any noise, so as to avoid Aegon’s temper.

“Something funny?” he asked, catching it.

“You jealous or something?”

Aegon tore the boxer shorts off of you, not even telling you to lift your hips, causing you to almost fall off the sink from the force.

“Aegon!”

“Shouldn’t be wearing his clothes,” he spoke, almost more to himself than to you as he quite literally tore the tee shirt off of your body, one jagged rip in the middle of the design on the front, “you’re not fucking his.”

You looked up at him, shocked, “Aegon! What the fuck am I supposed to tell Heleana happened to this shirt? I’m clumsy, but I’m not that clumsy!”

“You could always tell her the truth,” Aegon smiled, “or better yet, tell Aemond. Make sure he knows you’re not his.”

You sighed at his jealousy. “I really don’t think he’s under the impression that I’m his, Aeg, I really just needed clothes for the night.”

Aegon’s jealousy was overshadowed by your use of a nickname. He immediately dropped back down to his knees, ripping your underwear in half just as he did the shirt.

“Aegon! I don’t have any other clothes with me!”

He slapped your thighs as a warning to open them wider, “shut up, you’ll just wear mine.”

“I really dont thi-“ your words were cut off by a sharp inhale as Aegon pressed his lips to your clit, tongue drawing circles and swirling around the bud as he looked up at you.

A pang of jealousy hit you as you remembered that he was in this exact position with someone else mere hours ago. This moment wasn’t special to him. You were just another one of his girls.

“Aeg, wait-“

Aegon immediately stopped at your protest. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, I just- I can’t do this right now.”

Aegon looked concerned. “What happened? Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said?”

You attempted to stop his train of thought before it derailed, “no! No, it isn’t you, it’s just-“

“It’s just you just saw this show with someone else?” he questioned, standing to meet your eye level.

“I really don’t just want to be a one off type of person. I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for stopping.

“Hey, hey,” he said, sweetly capturing your attention, “this is not the same situation as it was earlier today. You aren’t just a random one off. I literally left that girl in here the second I saw you. The only reason I was in that situation was because I was all worked up from seeing you in that fucking dress earlier,” he admitted.

“You were not.”

He nodded his head, “did I not make it obvious enough to you when I told you you looked good in black?”

You threw your hands up, “clearly I thought you were fucking with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking with you,” he assured you, “now if you don’t mind, can I get back to actually fucking you?”

You pulled him in for a kiss before he dropped to his knees yet again, tongue immediately finding its place on your bud.

He traced a finger around your soaked hole, staring up at you as he slid one finger inside of you, watching you throw your head back and attempt to breathe through the pleasure, desperately trying not to make a noise.

Without warning, he added a second finger, pumping both in and out of you as his tongue continued to swirl and flick at your bud. Your breathing was becoming erratic, and you fought with everything in you to hold back moaning.

Aegon curled his fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside of you, causing you to grip his hair and push his face closer into you. He moaned at the sensation, sending shivers up your body. You whined and whimpered as quietly as you could as he continued to work you until you started squeezing his fingers.

Before you could come, he ceased all action, standing up and meeting your eyes again. He put both fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean before giving you a wet kiss, the feeling of your slick still on his lips. The feeling nearly made him feral, deepening the kiss as he pulled his own boxers down to free his cock. Precum was already leaking from the tip at only the sight of what his fingers did to you. He used one hand to begin to stroke himself as the other held the back of your head, pressing you even harder into the desperate kiss.

You reached between your bodies, gripping his cock and moving his hand away. You began to stroke him, causing his hips to jolt and a whine to leave his lips and break the kiss.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he sighed, barely able to get the shaky sentence out.

You kissed him as a response. You lined his tip up with your entrance, looking at him and nodding up and down to signal that you were ready. Before he pushed in, you grabbed his face, saying, “I’m not a virgin, you know. You don’t have to be nice.”

Aegon growled, slamming his entire length into you without giving you time to adjust. You threw your head back and he pulled completely out before slamming into you again, each violent thrust causing your entire body to snap backward.

“Fuck,” he groaned, setting a steady pace.

You continued to whine and moan, unable to mute or quiet yourself.

“Shut up, Y/N,” Aegon warned.

“C- can’t,” was all you could get out, his cock stretching your walls at a violent rate.

“I don’t care,” he spat, almost mean, “I said shut up.”

He then snaked an arm between your bodies, rubbing circles onto your clit as he fucked you hard. Your body gave out, and you fell backward, head leaning against the mirror as Aegon pulled your hips closer to the edge of the sink so he could fuck you deeper.

“Fuck!” you cried out, completely losing any control you had over yourself.

Aegon moved his hand from your clit to your mouth, covering it and forcing you to remain quiet.

He continued to fuck you hard, your body still being roughly pushed harder into the sink and mirror with every thrust. With his hand pressed against your mouth, your head was now pressed hard against the mirror, meaning you were unable to move.

The hand that wasn’t around your mouth made it’s way to your waist, gripping you as Aegon’s thrusts became faster and faster.

He moved his hand from your mouth to your throat. “Tell me how it feels.”

You whined. “G- good, it’s- ah! It’s g-“

He squeezed your throat. “I know you can use your words better than that, angel.”

“It feels good, so good,” you forced out.

“Good girl,” Aegon praised, never moving his hand from your throat as he continued to fuck into you.

“Aeg, I-“

The nickname made him feral. He began thrusting into you at an unholy pace, both hands moving to your shoulders to keep you speared onto his cock as he pistoned in and out of you harshly.

“You gonna come?” he asked you.

“Y- yes, Aeg, I-“

“Beg me.”

You whimpered, barely able to think or speak. Apparently your silence was too long for Aegon.

“Beg. Me.”

“Please, Aeg, p-please l-let me come, Aegon, please-“

He moved a hand back in between your bodies, rubbing your clit again as your walls squeezed his cock. You nearly screamed his name as you came, his only choice to swallow your moans with his mouth, kissing you through your high, still chasing his own.

It was almost overstimulating, him still thrusting into you in desperate need of his own high as you were attempting to come down from yours.

“Aegon,” you whined.

“Mhm,” he moaned in response.

“Please come for me,” you pleaded in the most seductive voice you could manage.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he barked.

You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours, “Aeg, fuck- please-“

That was all it took for him to come undone, unloading inside of you before pressing his forehead to yours to catch his breath.

You could fill indents in the back of your thighs from the edge of the sink. Once he calmed down and pulled out of you, he began to put his clothes back on, while you stayed seated, naked, on the sink.

“You just gonna stay there?” he quipped.

You gestured to Aemond’s ripped up clothes on the floor, “You gonna give me your clothes or what?”

[on-a-lucky-tide]

fun things to inflict on a pilot who bases his value on how useful he is to others:

temporary blindness >:3c

141 accidentally pierce an old mustard gas canister during an operation. Nik takes the brunt.

cw: injury, temporary blindness, distressed character.

Price paced up and down the base hospital ward wringing his hands as he waited for news, his heart in his throat. The mission had gone south so bloody quickly, and no matter how many times he retraced their steps, Price couldn't pinpoint the exact action that had caused such a monumental fuck up.

Old world war one bunker. Old old. The perfect place for a terrorist cell to store chemical weapons, or at least a lead to them. They had jumped early that morning with Nik because it was in east Germany and he had the knowledge they needed to break through the security systems. The USSR had used it as a base of operations during the Cold War, so without Nik, getting in would have been like chipping away at granite with a toothpick.

They got in. They secured the intelligence - no bloody weapons though - and were on their way out. A small detachment of enemy combatants had infiltrated through a different entrance that hadn't been recorded on the schematics they were working from. There had been an exchange of fire. A stray bullet caught a canister and...

Nik ignored the most fundamental rule of chemical warfare. You sort your own fucking mask first. But no, the stupid wanker grabbed for Gaz's first, because he was closest to the explosion and had only a split second to react.

Nik had been too slow with his own as a result.

Holding Nik in the casevac had been one of the most difficult experiences of Price's life. The skin lesions across his face had been like second degree burns, his eyes swollen shut, streaming. Anywhere there was moisture, the old gas had attacked. Despite the wounds, Price had seen the terror on his face as he tried to wrench the damp gauze off. He couldn't see.

"John, ya nye mogu videt! John... gdye ty? Gdye ty!" His usually calm, sombre voice, with its laid back drawl, broken and cracked in desperation.

In the end, Price had taken the decision to sedate him in the heli, one of those big hands clenched in his to keep him anchored as the drugs brought his heart rate under control and soothed his panic. He had lashed out at Gaz blindly - "otyebis ot menya!" - but between them they had managed to get the sedative into his thigh.

There were other wounds; bumps, scrapes, but none as serious.

"Sir, I'm sorry," Gaz had rasped, chucking the needle back into the bag. "This is my fault."

"No," Price had shaken his head. "Not your burden to carry. G'won, go eat somethin'."

The door at the end of the hall opened and the doctor summoned him with a flick of the head. "Well?" Price demanded, ignoring the pursed lipped irritation he got in return.

"It's temporary," the doctor said, his arms folding. "The gas was old, degraded. Still potent enough to cause damage, but with the right treatment, he'll get his eyesight back."

"How long?"

"Difficult to say. Four to six weeks for the skin lesions to heal. His body will decide on the rest... uh, captain," the doctor reached out a hand as Price tried to walk past, "there is a risk of long-term dyspnea, respiratory problems, awful stuff mustard gas, it attacks the central nervous system too, it can cause changes in mentation, and I understand from his file that he has a medical history of--"

"--I know what's in the file."

"We may be looking at more damage here than just his eyes. But only time will tell."

When Price stepped through the door, Nik startled, looking in his direction even though the heavy bandages over his eyes prevented him from seeing. Price spoke softly as he closed the door at his back. "S'just me, Nik. Easy."

Price nodded tightly, walked by and shouldered his way into the next ward. He found Nik's room but hesitated outside. Nik was awake. He was trying to grope around the table in front of him, searching.

"Captain, it is... well, I would say good to see you but..." He gestured vaguely at his head, his wry smirk shaky, and then that hand returned to patting around the table.

"Did they explain everything? Did you..." ...understand. Fuck, Price didn't understand half of the medical jargon, so he wouldn't be surprised if Nik struggled in his fourth language to parse what they were saying. Fourth out of eight. Asking felt like an insult to Nik's intelligence. The doctor's comment about mentation lodged in Price's throat like a shard of glass.

"Da. It will heal but there may be some future complications, I..." Nik suddenly slammed his fist against the table, anger twisting his mouth into a snarl, "..blyat, where is my phone? I need.." Nik's voice cracked and his chin tilted down with the shame of it, trailing off into miserable silence.

Price reached for him and tried not to let the resulting flinch shred his heart. Once Nik realised it was Price's hands and not whatever phantom his mind has conjured, he relaxed. Price sat down on the edge of the bed. "You don't need t' do anythin' but heal. We've got yer covered."

The way Nik's jaw twitched, teeth clenching at the back, his shoulders rising a little towards his ears; Price could see the clawing discomfort without needing to see his expression.

"You're gonna have to trust us, Nik. I need yer to trust me."

"I do," Nik croaked. "It is... This is not your burden to carry."

"Even if you weren't who you are, you still got injured in one of my operations."

"I let you down. And now I am useless." Nik's other hand clenched into a fist at his side, making the finger monitor creak under the strain.

"Temporarily out of commission. Not useless."

Nik turned his head away, refusing to hear it. They sat in silence, Price's thumb stroking back and forth over Nik's knuckles, giving him a point to focus on that wasn't his burning skin or the darkness of his vision.

"Nik, short of turnin' me over to Al Qatala, you could never let me down," Price said, finally.

Now was the time. Now Nik needed to hear it more than ever.

"You... mean the world to me. I..." he rubbed at his face, tugging at his whiskers, "...I love you. And when I saw you go down, my heart stopped for a second. The world stopped. Believe it or not, I was glad you were screamin' bloody murder in that chopper, cause that meant you were still here."

Nik drew a stuttering breath, but he didn't say anything. The man who had a one-liner or a bit of sass for every occasion sat in mute silence. It made Price ache in a way he never had before.

"'M not gonna abandon you, Nik. Wouldn't have even if this had been permanent. An' I know you don't believe me. I know. But... 'm gonna show ya. And you can grumble and cuss at me 'til the cows come home."

Nik's head fell back against the pillow and he sniffed, scowling with a muttered curse.

"You olrigh'?" Price squeezed his hand.

"Da. I am crying like little girl and it is stinging my eyes."

Price chuckled, patting their joined hands against his own thigh. "Soppy git."

That had to be a good sign. Tear ducts were what the eyes used to heal and maintain themselves, right? And he could feel the tears. Positive. This was positive. Price lifted Nik's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, lingering there to feel the warmth of his skin.

Nik swallowed, his fingers tightening in Price's grip. "If I had known that losing my eyes would have earned me John Price, I would have cut them out years ago."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," Price said incredulously, always somewhat taken aback by the intensity with which Nik expressed himself when it was just them. He sighed. "Yer've had me all this time. I just... I'm just not as brave as you are."

Nik huffed. "Bravo Six is the bravest man I know."

"Only for some things. Not feelin' particularly brave right now, and you're the one in the gurney."

Nik tilted his head towards Price, so desperate to see his face. Price was glad he couldn't. His damn eyes were watering. "Then, I will be brave for you. This, I can do without my eyes."

Price smiled and made sure Nik could feel it against his palm, promising him silently in that moment that he wouldn't waste a single second more of their time together on this bloody earth. "Sounds like a plan."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Know Your Place 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall, destroyer!Chris [for the purposes of this AU, I will give him the last name Jackson] (Professor AU)

Summary: after a life time of home schooling, you finally get to experience the real world in college. (petite reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

You’re lost! It’s an inevitability, really, but your lost and that pulsing swell is making its way from your stomach to your chest. Soon, your throat will constrict and you won’t be able to breathe. Lost, lost, lost. 

You turn back down the hallway and retrace your steps. No, you didn’t go this way! You peer over your shoulder. Empty. While everyone else was so quick to flee after the lecture, you lingered to take the call from your mom and wandered a bit too far off track. 

You spin again and sway on your feet. You stumble as if you’re on a rocking ship. You go to the wall and put your bag down. You search for your phone and put in the building name to the directory. ‘No floor plan available.’ Oh jeez. 

The panic builds as you pick up your bag and blink back tears. You’re an adult! You’re not going to cry. You'll get out of here. Calm down.  

You look down at your phone as your thumb hovers over your mom’s contact. No. You won’t call her. She’s already worried enough. You accidentally mentioned having a dessert bar from the cafe and she almost lost her mind. Those things are packed with sugar and filler! 

It was just one. You grip your phone tight and black the screen. You’ll follow the room numbers and go from there. How helpless are you to get so backwards in here. It’s not like some magical maze. You’re fine. 

You shuffle back down the hall, past the same open door, and stop at the crossways of the next. You hesitate. Straight or right? 

“Everything alright?” The deep voice rumbles through the hall and rolls up your spine. 

You turn to the vaguely familiar timbre. Oh, you know him! It’s that man with the spirally hair and fuzzy beard. From the Student Centre... 

“Walter,” you say. 

“Mauve,” he returns as he steps fully out into the hall. 

“What... what are the odds?” You bounce on your feet and hug your bag, pushing your fingers over the fluffy teddy bear face. Often times you do that just for a bit of comfort. 

“I saw you going back and forth,” he puts his hand on his hip. Oh no, you disturbed him. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you,” you clutch your phone against your stomach. 

“You’re not,” he insists. “My class let out twenty minutes ago.” 

“Oh, sure, sorry, er, psychology?” You wiggle your phone in recollection. 

He gives a short nod, “that’s it. You have a class around here?” He asks as his blue eyes bore into you, “you lost?” 

You frown and look away guiltily. You’re embarrassed. You sniff and make yourself look at him, “yes. But I’m just trying to get out of her. My class already ended.” 

“Right,” he says, “you got a minute? Just gotta grab my things and I’ll lead the way. That’s if I’m not bothering you?” 

You flinch, “me? Oh no, it’s not—thank you so much.” 

“No problem,” he turns and taps the door frame as he goes back into the room. 

You slowly tiptoe forward and peer inside. He folds up his laptop and shoves it into a worn grey passenger bag. He slides a folder in with it and grabs his phone. He squints at the screen before he tucks it into his back pocket. 

He hooks the bag over his shoulder and scoops up his jacket. You watch him approach, taking in the full effect of his size. He’s a big man. Burly, even through the thick wool of his sweater. You can’t help but think it looks cozy. 

You back up and fold your hands, resisting the urge to compare yourself. Your thrifted maxi skirts and straight-cut button-ups and handmade cardigans are out-of-place on campus. The other girls wear cute shirts and short skirts, even on the cooler days.  

It doesn’t matter. He’s only a professor after all. You pull closed the front of your picky wool coat as he emerges. 

“Thanks, sir,” you say as he steps up next to you and points you ahead. “I... I kinda... was panicking.” 

“Mm, well, it’s a big building,” he hooks a thumb into his jean pocket, “big campus.” 

“Oh, yes. Very big.” You agree as you slide your phone into the big pocket of your coat. You trade it for the folded map you keep handy. You open it up as you keep pace with him. You feel him glance down. “I have to get to the...” 

Your voice drifts off. You have to go to the student grocery. Your mother sent a list of ingredients and instructions. She said it all needs to be organic but you don’t think you’ll find much of that. 

“Hm, you’re a lot more organized than most of my students,” he remarks. 

You close the map and look up at him with a sheepish smile, “just nervous. Momma says you should always be ready for anything.” You shrug and shake your head as you set your head right, “mm, sorry, my mom... she says a lot of things.” 

He hums and directs you around a corner with a short point. “You’re close?” 

“Yep. Just me and her for twenty years,” you chime. “I... miss her.” You feel the drop in your chest as the words force their way out before you could even think them. “Sorry, I just... it’s still the first week.” 

“No, it’s expected. Big adjustment coming to school,” he assures you. “But you like it?” 

“Oh, sure. It’s exciting. They were having a record sale outside the Rec Centre but I left my player at home,” you say. “But I got a poster of some kittens--” You laugh nervously and shake your head. “You can tell me if I’m rambling, Walter.” 

“No, I don’t think so,” he steps ahead of you as you approach the front doors. Yay, he found them. “I’m sure it’s a cute poster.” 

“It is,” you agree as he opens the door and lets you out first. “Thank you.” 

He follows you out and you begin down the stairs. He measures his stride with yours. As you come to the bottom, you stop and fidget with the map in your hands. 

“Thank you so so much.” You flick the corner of the paper. “I’ll let you be now. I’m sure you have lots of work to do but it was nice seeing a familiar face.” 

“Yeah, it was,” he agrees and peers around.  

“Good luck, Walter,” you chime. “Maybe we’ll run into each other next week.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” he mutters and twitches, bringing his hand up. “Wait, where are you off to? I could... I could help you find it.” 

“Oh, no, I can’t ask that,” you crinkle the map loudly. “I just gotta get to the grocery and I think it’s near the Student Centre...” you trail off and open the paper to check. 

“Well, can I give you a hint?” He asks. 

You look up at him again, “what?” 

“Everything’s marked up two dollars on campus. There’s a store just off,” he points to the far corner on the map, “right across from this entrance. They bake their bread fresh too.” 

You stare down at his fingertip. Your mother wired you some money and it’s not much, and more than she should have. It might be a good idea to go the extra distance and save some dimes. You chew the inside of your lip. 

“Oh, that’s-- thanks.” 

“I gotta grab some coffee beans. I could come along. So you don’t get lost again,” he offers. 

“Really?” You chirp. “That’s... too nice.” 

“I don’t mind,” he insists. “I even know a shortcut.” 

[magics-neptunes-things]

Christmas Shopping

Hi everyone!

Time is passing and I hope your December is going well for you:)

A little Christmas shopping with Lucy today, and if what happens in this fiction is taken from my own life, it’s obviously only coincidence ^^'

Happy reading!

You wouldn’t know why, every year, you find yourself at the end of December running in stores to find Christmas presents. Yet, you think about it as early as July, thinking about what you can offer to your parents, your in-laws and Lucy. When you asked her what she would like, she shrugged her shoulders and said that what she likes at Christmas is to spend time with her family. And you, of course. Then she hugged you to break your bones. You love it, but it doesn’t help you choose something.

Lucy accompanies you today in the mall, you decided to join forces to find gifts. You made a list of people who are missing gifts and you had the same protein breakfast you had before your football matches. Lucy laughed and pretended that you were doing too much, but you know what a pain you’re going to get into. People are completely crazy in stores around Christmas.

It’s been almost an hour since you were in the store and you only found two of the ten gifts on your list. And you’ve already been stepped on three times. Next to you, Lucy pushes the shopping cart looking around her, studying each of the articles on which her eyes rest.

"Okay, now we need a doll set for your niece"

You turn back to Lucy, to face… emptiness. You frown and turn on yourself, looking for your girlfriend’s figure. But she’s nowhere to be found.

"Lucy?"

Frowning, you retrace your steps to go through the rays you have already crossed, wondering if you forgot to take something. But Lucy is still nowhere to be found. You end up finding her at a dried meat tasting stand, almost ten minutes later.

"Baby!" she happily cheers when she sees you "Here, you have to taste this!"

She hands you a toothpick on which a piece of meat is pricked, which you examine before carrying to your mouth.

"How delicious is that?"

Before you have time to answer, Lucy puts two packages in your cart, to the delight of the saleswoman you look at with scepticism.

"Hum" you just mumble when she says goodbye with a little too much enthusiasm to Lucy. "Are you being charmed for some food now?"

"Of course not" laughs Lucy before putting a loving kiss on your cheek.

The gesture makes you smile and forget the touch of jealousy you just felt. This may not be worth the Iberian ham you have in Barcelona, but it's true that it's rather good. You take out the empty list and take control of the shopping cart.

"Set of dolls"

********

"I’m hungry" sighs Lucy a little later

You smile and roll your eyes when you hear her. You have to admit that you are getting hungry too, but you are unfortunately far from having finished your shopping.

"We’ll go to the cafeteria after we finish this" you answer, shaking the list in front of her eyes.

"But baby" Lucy whines, in the same tone as her four-year-old nephew.

You shake your head and drag her with you into the good place to find a gift for her sister-in-law. A skincare set may not be the most original idea in the world, but your imagination is far from overflowing right now. Arriving at your destination, you hesitate a long time about the different possibilities, before turning to Lucy.

"What do you think? Coconut or… Luce?"

But Lucy disappeared again and you let your head go against the shopping cart with a sound that seems to worry a Grandma next to you.

Taking a random kit off the shelf, you go back looking for your girlfriend, grumbling in a low voice. It takes you again long minutes to find her, lost in the contemplation of Christmas decorations.

"Lucia" you sigh at her.

But she turns to you again with a big smile and you find yourself feeling your annoyance fade away. You’re far too in love with her for your own sanity.

"Look, it’s pretty! It would be nice in the entrance of our apartment right?"

"Mh yeah, maybe"

You sigh again, looking at the list. You have the impression that it has lengthened since the beginning of the day. The good news is you’re starting to see the end of the tunnel. You ignore the man who rushes into your shopping cart, leaving Lucy to glare at him instead of you.

"We still need the gift for your brother, the gift for your mother and…"

"Give me this damn list."

You arch an eyebrow but comply, handing her the piece of paper and pen that you carry carefully since you left home. Your eyes are mechanically attracted by the light effects of the decorations and it's true that it is rather pretty.

"Is that the one you like?"

Lucy takes a brief look at the one you are pointing at and nods with a slight smile. After half a second of hesitation, you carefully place it in the shopping cart, balancing on the packets of meat.

"Here" says Lucy after a few seconds.

You pick up the list she gives you, quickly realizing that she added something following what you had already written. Who did you forget? But your slightly desperate look changes when an amused smile appears on your face.

"Smile, Feed your starving and almost dead girlfriend and Let her kiss you?" you laugh softly as you look up at her.

"Yes. And we can already trace the first one."

You keep smiling when she puts her hand in the hollow of your back to kiss your temple. This woman.

"Well, let’s go feed my hungry girlfriend before she falls out then" you do mischievously.

"Yes, please. We’ve reached a critical threshold."

You roll your eyes again and it's with her hand always on you that you take the way to the cafeteria. Needless to say, at the end of the day you didn’t find everything you were looking for and you will have to come back tomorrow. At least that’s what you’re imagining, before you let Lucy convince you to order what you need online.

[xuchiya]

"Quick Reaction" || kang yeosang || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

You were bored out of your mind, wishing you could have brought your book or your drawing pad to pass time, although everything seemed to be going smoothly—until your professor called you to the faculty room. "You're missing an assignment," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice as she added, "and so is your classmate, Kang Yeosang."

Anything but that. You cried, stomping your foot to the ground out of frustration. You sighed internally, mentally retracing your steps to figure out which assignment had slipped through the cracks. As you walked to the faculty room, carrying your notebook and pen, you bumped into Yeosang, who had the same expression of concern on his face. You both exchanged knowing glances, resigned to your fate.

“You lost your assignment?” Yeosang asks. You shake your head, “I’m not sure either but I know I wrote it and had a perfect score. What about you?”

Yeosang shrugs, “I guess I was cutting class when it was given.” Both of you giggling knowing that is farfetched. He never does and never will, most especially his mom is your math adviser. Besides, there are guards blocking the two entrances of your school gates, so there is no point in cutting class unless you decide to fake ‘sickness’ to not attend school.

Standing outside the faculty room, you could hear your professor bustling about. "Alright, since you two are here, I’ll dictate the assignment instead, but since students aren’t allowed inside, I’ll give you the answers too. Be quick, though—it needs to be passed immediately and the head will not be happy to have students inside."

You pouted, “We could just work inside the classroom.” 

“Oh … you’re right. You may go but I hope to get this one before dismissal and ask one of your classmates to dictate some of the homeworks you both are missing.”

And that’s how you found yourself inside your classroom. Yeosang stays at the other but you both agree to stay at your classroom instead. You pulled out your notebook, your pen poised to capture every word. Years of training as a news anchor for your upcoming college years had honed your ability to take notes swiftly and efficiently. Yeosang, however, wasn’t faring as well. As your classmate, Hongjoong rattled off the questions and answers, you noticed him out of the corner of your eye, struggling to keep up. His eyes darted from his notebook to yours, then back again, frustration clear on his face.

"Hey, hey, what’s this..." he whispered urgently, tapping you on the shoulder to grab your attention, leaning over your shoulder. It wasn’t until you leaned back to check on him that both of you realized how close you were. Your faces stopped just inches apart, your breath brushing against his lips. Yeosang froze, his gaze trailing over your features, taking in every detail. His heart pounded in his chest as he noticed every imperfection—each one making him feel something unfamiliar yet undeniably warm.

"Hey, if you two are gonna kiss, let me turn around first!" Hongjoong teased, breaking the moment.

Startled, you both pulled away, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You quickly handed your notebook to Yeosang, avoiding eye contact as you nervously fiddled with your pen. Meanwhile, he hid his face behind your notebook, furiously scribbling down the remaining answers, trying to ignore the heat still lingering on his cheeks.

As both of you finished the assignment, he took your notebook and he handed the assignment to Hongjoong who insisted on bringing them to your professor since he will be passing by the faculty room and towards the auditorium. After thanking Hongjoong, Yeosang glanced at you, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You met his gaze for a brief moment, sharing a silent understanding, before both of you looked away, the air between you filled with unspoken words and the beginnings of something new.

[gogomatthew]

You’re mine

KINKTOBER DAY 2: Mutual masturbation

PAIRING: SPENCER REID X READER

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST HERE🎃💗

warnings: stalking • mutual masturbation • semi public sex • humiliation • phone sex • paranoia? • mentions of violence • let me know if I missed any •

A/N: sorry about the KTOBER delay.. this ones a little dark but ill make up with a sweet one next week! reminder english isnt my first language but feel to correct any grammar mistakes

summary: Spencer fears he is being stalked after receiving gifts from a secret admirer only to fall for her • MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI 18+

“Hey whats wrong?” Morgan stops Spencer as he rushes into the BAU frantic with an orange envelope at hand “Gather everyone in the conference room please” he gets out of morgans grip and makes his way there. “Whats this about?” Hotch walks in confused on the whole situation, raising a questioning eyebrow at Spencer “Ive been on edge the past month and yesterday I received this..” he hands the envelope to Hotch. Inside theres a handwritten letter with the words “I know you were thinking about me” and multiple photographs of Spencer jacking off in his room.

Truthfully he didn’t want to show anyone but this was getting out of hand. In the photograph his room was illuminated by warm toned lamp, his mouth hung open and anyone with half a brain could assume he was letting out sounds of pleasure, his head was thrown back and his eyes were shut tightly, while his hand wrapped around his leaking dick as he lazily sat on his desk chair with his trousers hanging around his ankles. Hotch’s eyes go wide for a second as he quickly puts the pictures away only making his subordinates blush grow a burning pink. The team share a few glances and connect the dots in an instant. “Morgan you have experience in obsession crimes.. what do you think this is?” Hotch asks after analyzing the letter he spoke up “Are these the only “gifts” you’ve gotten? any other notes we should know about?” morgan glances up at him making sure to put emphasis on the word “gifts”

“I-I mean theres always a lingering feeling im being watched and I got a bouquet of flowers last monday along with a letter every other day from a “secret admirer” but I didn’t think much of it.. I just assumed some neighborhood boy was playing a prank on me..” he says running his fingers through his silky brunette hair, clearly stressed out “looks like you’ve got a groupie” spencer looks back down to morgan “HUH?” morgan hands the letter back to spencer “The writing is clearly written by a female, its dainty and not aggressive.. almost as if to show her love and devotion to you instead of threatening you. That isnt to say she wont get violent later on.. it may trigger her to see you with another woman around her age maybe something set her off and decided to finally make her move.” hotch lets out a breath “Morgan, Reid, you stay here and find a motive, Prentiss and I will go to the scene and try to get more geographical information on how they even managed to take these photos.. wheels up in 30” and with that everyone’s getting to work.

They made a geographic profile, retraced steps, came up with a profile and even a plan on how to catch the unsub. “We think our unsub is a female in her mid 20s, if you were to cross her path shed blend right in, shes not very confident or careful but she is smart, if you bumped into her she’d apologize even if it wasnt her fault, she has an obsessive personality though she probably doesn’t even realize it odds are if she were to go through a psychotic break she would only go after Spencer or people close to him so we don’t have to worry about civilian safety” after notifying the local PD they develop a plan.. Emily was going to pretend to be Spencers girlfriend, holding hands on the subway, walking him home, spending time in his apartment ect, to get a rise out of the unsub, it was a long shot that youd even buy it if youve been stalking spencer but it was worth a try “you sure you got this?” she looks up at Hotch as he adjust her mic pack and silently nods as Spencer copies her movement.

That afternoon he and Emily walk out of the subway station hand in hand making their way to his apartment, god Spencer wasn’t lying.. Emily could feel eyes on her but couldn’t pin point where they came from but they managed to make goosebumps arise from her. That night there was no love letter at his door. This was either the start of a psychotic break or you backing down. Morgan was stationed at the location they assumed the photographs were taken, assuming you’d come back. Emily spent the night at spencers place and left during the early hours of the morning to make it all the more convincing. After she left Spencer did his morning routine like usual, a shower, setting the coffee pot, changing, grabbing his satchel and heading out but he was stopped by a piece of paper that was stuck between the front door and the frame, falling onto the ground. The note was different, it seemed messy and rushed. It read “Im still here” a shiver ran down his spine. His gut told him to just get on the subway and go to work and develop his highly intelligent team but his brain told him to take matters into his own hands. He stormed out of his building and made his way onto the sidewalk hoping to be able catch you before you got too far. He had the profile now all he needed to do was find you and he knew just how to do that. He stormed into the subway station proceeding to walk a little faster than usual. He felt eyes on him and immediately he turned around and met your eyes by sheer luck. He kept his eyes on you and you stayed frozen in place looking away from his gaze but not moving an inch.. could it be you? He knew morgan always trusted his gut and maybe it was time he did the same. As he started approaching you your eyes went wide and you sped walked away. You fit the profile, the only thing they didn’t mention was how attractive you were. He caught up to you quickly having the advantage of long legs “hey” he puts a hand on your shoulder giving you goosebumps “im meeting my girlfriend for coffee but I dont know which track to take.. do you think you could help me?” he give you a nice smile that you return but he notices your demeanor going cold at the word girlfriend.

“yeah totally! where are you meeting?” your fists are clenched at your sides, this was almost too easy “Virginia coffee house” he says simply “you’re gonna want to take the 53, it should get here in about 10 minutes.. that’s actually where im heading too” he smiles a little wider “I don’t suppose you mind waiting with me then?” you nod “not at all!…” you fidget with your fingers “actually im gonna go to the restroom” you turn to rush off with him hot on your heels, he wont forgive himself if he lets you get away.. he has to trust his gut when it’s screaming right at him he needs to know more. He follows you into the bathroom at the station which is thankfully empty and locks the door behind him “Spencer what are you doing?” you say and quickly realize your mistake as his expression falters “I never said my name was spencer..” your eyes widen as you start to back up into the sink “sorry I- my brains all scattered” you try to play it off with a laugh but hes not laughing. He starts to get closer and closer to you as you continue to step back “heres what I think and feel free to correct me if im wrong, but just know ill know if you’re lying, I study human behavior for living but of course you already knew that” your backed up completely into the sink and have nowhere to run as he continues to get closer until he finally towers over you face inches apart “I think you’re my little groupie.. I think you watched me get off and took pictures to touch yourself too.. I think you leave love letters at my door.. I think you’re jealous of my fake girlfriend and I think..” he whisper the next words right into your ear “you’re desperate for me” he hates to admit it but some animalistic part of him just wants to take you right there in the bathroom and make you scream his name to humiliate you just as you did to him. You’d proudfully admit that his accusations made your panties soaking wet, having to squeeze your thighs together for any friction.

Just then a loud knock at the door interrupts you both breaking away “whys the door locked?” you hear through the door “you’re right” you say before speeding off and disappearing into the crowd as soon as the lady at the door gets it open. Spencer rushes out ignoring the strange looks he gets but ultimately looses you. He lets out an exasperated sigh and with that hes on his way to work.

Coming back to an empty apartment was never fun but he couldn’t shake his head off with what happened just a few hours prior in that bathroom. He starts palming himself through his trousers and groans wishing it was you. He unbuttons his jeans and pull out his dick, stroking it as it fill the room with the wet sounds of his precum smearing all over his shaft “fuck” he sits at his desk and there he sees you. You’re on the balcony of the building across the street. The complex next to the one morgan was previously situated at the day prior. Camara leaning next to you, phone in one hand as your other hand starts to glide down your abdomen between your thighs successfully getting a whimper out of Spencer.. hes never been this exposed. He hears his phone ring and you mouth at him to answer it and he obeys. You let out breathy whines as you start to circle your clit matching the pace of the hand wrapped around his dick. His eyes are open staring straight at you, he dosent want to miss a single second of this. His own morality not even bothering him anymore, not when he feels this good and has this view. “Fuck” He stands up from his seat and walk closer to the window, he starts to glide his hand faster even teasing himself by running his finger through his slit “mmm” he knows you can hear him but he cant hold back his sounds god hes never felt this good under his own touch, he thinks it’s pathetic he has to imagine its your even though you’re only a few feet away. “faster” he demands. His ty is loosened but his shirt is still on and how you wish you could just see all of him, you insert 2 fingers into yourself struggling because theyre not long enough to give you as much pleasure as you need, you lean over the edge and hold on to the railing of the balcony giving spencer a better peek at your tits “you’re fucking c- crazy” he says with heavy pants inbetween every word “me? im not the one stroking my dick to my “stalker” god you hated that word but you heard him refer to you as that before, he lets out a deep growl “yeah well im not the stalker” the call is filled with whines and moans from both ends, you start nearing your climax “im gonna- hah-“ your words are cut off by your loud whimpers “aww cmon baby- you can write someone whos never even seen you heartfelt love letters but cant- ah finish- mm your own sentence” hes teasing but in reality hes in the same position as you “fuck- you” his open mouth turns into a smirk “bet youd like that” thats it, something in you snaps and your practically screaming and writhing in place as Spencer delivers his final pumps to his cock before he’s leaking cum onto his own chest with heavy whines as he tries to catch his breath with his eyes closed.

When he finally opens them to see you shock is evident in his face when you’re already gone and the line is left ringing. He buttons his pants and runs to his front door trying to catch you but instead his eyes land on another envelope. He opens it expecting it to be another love letter and pictures of him jacking it only to be met with photographs of YOU touching yourself, your mouth dropped open, hand on your pussy, only showing the bottom half of your face, the note attached reads “you have my phone number now.. id appreciate going on a date with you before you turn me in - your dearest Y/N” god this was going to be fun.

[galedekarios]

also re: the last gale art i reblogged

when i have the spoons to do so, i'd also very much like to talk about gale and depression and him being high functioning. it's an extremely heavy topic, but i think it's one of those things - if not the thing - that resonated the most with me on a personal level while experiencing his story for the first time, and it still does now almost a year later.

his isolation, his deep loneliness, gale using his magic to create an escape for his mind when he felt there was none for his body and withdrawing from the circumstances surrounding him as much as he was still able to, while still feeling mystra's disappointment echoing through the weave the moment he tapped into it - which is something that we know from his origin playthrough hurts him more than anything else (in that case it's related to elminster, but i think we can draw the conclusion here as well).

gale's social circle slowly withering away, one by one, until it's not a circle anymore, but a pinhead. enough to only include tara now. and even with tara, we know he's expecting to become too much of a burden, too much of a hassle ("i feared she had abandoned me." he says in act 3, after his long time away). he's waiting for the other shoe to drop even with his own familiar. i'm sure he wished to have her by his side even when he rationally knew that she had to leave to find a cure - or to at least find means to stave off his condition. he fekt he couldn't burden the only immediate family he still has left: morena. afraid of shaming her, afraid of burdening her, afraid of putting her in danger.

despite all that, he manages to leave waterdeep, to seek a cure for himself, or at the least not present a danger to thousands of people around him, once he recognised he was no longer able to treat his condition.

and when we meet him there is almost no immediate trace of all that, he masks it with smiles and politeness and humour. he's friendly. affable. unflappable. he cooks, he fights, he reads, he's well kept, despite tara's nagging about eating regularly in gale's origin playthrough. you'd never know. you only get a sense of melancholy sometimes (his first camp scene, staring into the fire, unsure of what the tadpole means for him and, more importantly, the orb), when it's all too much and he hasn't calmed himself yet, hasn't quieted his mind fully ("i need to retrace my steps to a glade of calm and think").

what a difference a day makes.

(still, he's opening himself up a bit again, re-learning to live again, travelling with people he may have not met otherwise, some of whom have become his friends. it feels good to chat, it feels good to tell stories, to share knowledge and meals, and to not be alone.)

and even when it all comes crashing down around him in act 2, he receives mystra's orders with quiet acceptance and a smile. he thanks elminster. he's glad it was him. he deflects your concern and doesn't engage with the deeper meaning of what it means to do as he was asked. oh you know him, don't you. he's an optimist. it's all not so bad. at least his death will have meaning. at least he'll have forgiveness.

it's only much later that he lets himself acknowledge how scared truly is. terrified, he says. and even then, he marches on.

anyhow, excuse my disjointed rambling, i just have a lot of thoughts about it all.

[moonriseoverkyoto]

Whistle while you work

Synopsis - sometimes all a little lass needs is to just holler the lyrics of an angry female-empowering country music, but a certain beloved Scot just can’t help but be worried he screwed up

cw: swearing, medical and military workplace inaccuracies, playful language, suggestive content, heavy flirting, slight miscommunication trope(this hurts me more than this hurts you believe me), nicknames, use of Scottish and southern(Georgia/texas) accent that some readers may find corny or displeasurable

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x southern!medic!reader

Author’s note: I know I said I was busy but I heard “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood come on the radio and it’s been an ear worm that sticking to my brain like flies on a horse. But once again I’m here to remind you that I’m taking southern notes from Georgia and Texas because I was raised in one and I visit family quite often in the other. I am completely open to constructive criticism but if you have nothing nice to say then you just scroll past it costs you absolutely nothing to mind your business. Italicized is singing btw.

©️moonriseoverkyoto 2023. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

Soap had begun to have a routine with you. He could often come visit you after shift hours or you would come along on missions and be his first pit stop at base. It was a beautiful little arrangement that the F1F begun to adore. You were the warm fire to warm their cold hearts or the blazing hearth to whip them into shape if they got rowdy. So it was a little jarring to him when he strolled into your clinic and heard an angry drawl.

“Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp. And she’s probably gettin’ frisky.”

Your voice had him weak at the knees but there was something off in your pitch. A grit, an anger, a frustration. He suddenly began retracing his steps, trying to find a failure placed upon his behalf.

“Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'Cause she can't shoot whiskey.”

“Bonnie?” the man called out to you, his reaction was controlled but his heart thumped against his chest trying to break out. When you didn’t respond he decided to stay by the doors out of your vision to figure out what was the issue, studying you.

“Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know”

Your hips began to sway against the rising tune and even in your scrubs, there was a clear muscle memory when it came to the rhythm of the song. Soap quickly exited and left to go to the common room to find the rest of the F1F playing poker

“There’s loverboy, we were wondering how long it would take for you and-“

“Firstly, she’s my friend Capt’n you know that. Secondly, Somethin’s a mattah with Bonnie.” Soap cut Price off quickly not caring for niceties.

“why because she’s running a little late?” Gaz spoke while checking his turn. It was comical how they knew you by your nicknames from Soap rather than your god given name.

“Aye ‘nd she’s singin’ this song of ‘ers and it’s got me all worried. I mean I know that I’ve been a wee bit busy lately but I’ve made sure to make me rounds and when I came to her place she was swinging hips and I ken to know when somethin’s a mattah with me Bonnie-“ Simon’s head turned to his friend with interest as Gaz cut the rambling man short.

“Calm down mate. We cannot understand you when you go back to the ancestral plane with that tongue of yours” Gaz spoke. Price waved him off to let the Scott breathe.

“She’s up tae high doh.” Soap rushed out, his brows knit together trying to piece together what could’ve happened.

“In English, lad” Price spoke up. However somebody came to his rescue.

“The phrase is meant to be used to describe when somebody is pent up, flustered. It’s a Scottish saying.” Ghost answered with a deep baritone. Everyone was surprised but secretly noted the phrase for whenever they had to go solo with the Mohawk man.

“So go talk to her” Price responded to Soap with a look that said he was ordering, then he offered a small gift of liquid courage

Soap refused the drink and made his way back over to the infirmary. His brain scrambling to find an answer.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats”

Your belted notes rung through the doors and hit his ears. He vowed he would find out the issue and fix it just so he wouldn’t have to hear the pain in your voice. He came around the corner as you stood in front of a table, organizing your different surgery and procedural tools. He spotted the AirPod beneath your trucker hat (since wearing a traditional cowboy hat was too distracting in the work place even during the quiet shifts. )

“I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires-“

Soap swallowed all his worry as he grabbed an AirPod out and spoke but you beat him to the punch.

“Who in all of god givens creation just ordered a free fuckin’- Oh sweetheart Johnny it’s you.” Your fire calmed just as quick as it kindled.

“hey lassie I was getting worried about you” Soap said. His heart and maybe something else throbbed at your honey tone. One day he’d finally act upon those feelings but today he needed to worry about something else. “What’s got you all worked up?”

“Are you saying I’m throwin’ a hissy fit?”

“Noo jist haud on there Lassie. I jist was-“

“Heavens to Betsy! You do think I’m havin’ a hissy fit, why you oughta know that I was the best little-“

As you two went on back and forth, the distance between your bodies got smaller and smaller. Two wide eyed grins plastered across your face. He cut you off with a smirk

“Oh I’m sure you were the.. how do you say it again? Oh right” Johnny leaned in closer and his voice dropped, “the best little girl this side of the Mississippi. Ain’t that right, hen?”

“I know damn well you did not just call me a hen from a damn barn house-“ you went to speak again but got cut off as your throat hitched, soap’s mouth just by your ear and his tone got unrealistically deeper and more dominant. A careful hand grazing your hip.

“Shut yer pus for a moment, hen. Tell me what’s a matter. What’s got you so up tae high doh.” The male spoke.

You were silent for once. All the cogs in your brain just stopped. Everything was quiet, if you had perfect hearing you could hear Johnny’s poor heart banging to get out of his chest in anxiety from him boldly caressing your waist.

“Aww come on lassie, need me to buy a wrench for that brain of yours”

“I misplaced my sewing needle. Well I did or one of the stupid nurses did but I can’t find it and I won’t find it till the cows come home” you huffed.

“The one from your nana?”

“Does a bear shit in the woods?”

“No need for the ‘tude. May I look?”

“Sure. It’s no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond” you said softly as he gently moved you aside to look at the table below. His trained eye spotting a glint on the ground. He reached over to pick it up and show it to you.

“Bless your heart! Good god Johnny, oh my sweet I could kiss you!” You cried out with the biggest grin. You leaned forward and kissed him softly on his cheek. His stubble gently scratching your soft, plump lips. His cheeks barely flushed as his smirk transformed into a smile and a small chuckle left his throat. He took a moment to memorize the feeling of your lips for later.

If that’s all it took to make his little Bonnie proud. He’d search every haystack for your needle in a heartbeat. You were his everything, he’d wait until the right moment to tell you. Especially when he was pretty sure the rest of the team was right around the corner listening to them. He’ll confront them later, for now he wants to stay in this moment with you. Watching his sweet hen, praising him. Grinning as she danced around with the needle he found, and even maybe hid.

MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Slang translations

Noo jist haud on - Now just hold on there

Heavens to Betsy - southern expression of surprise

Hen- a woman (Scottish term of endearment)

Bonnie - a beautiful woman, Scottish term of endearment typically paired with Bonnie lass

Lass/Lassie- beautiful woman, term of endearment

Shut yer pus - Scottish way of saying hush up, not literally referring to genitalia

Does a bear shit in the woods - kinda like a sarcastic response of “duh.” Whenever you’re asked a question. Hard concept to explain but I hope it’s not just me who got this from their southern mama

no bigger than a minnow in a fishing pond - comparison of size

Author’s note: AAAAAAAA I DID IT. I wrote my first fic. Oh my god. I’m so tired but I hope everyone loves this as much as I did. Please go listen to the song as well. It’s “Before He Cheats” by Carrie Underwood

General Taglist (comment to be added) : @glossythor @banana-beans-police

also thank you for the support for the series: @fruitsa1ad

[jellolegos]

Okay does that mean you have supercorp fix recs because if so pleaaaaaseeeee

I'm so sorry this list took so long to put together, I never got around to making an ao3 account and actually haven't really written any lists before, so I had to go back around and try and retrace my steps a bit! All of the fic authors I follow on here I absolutely adore and love and you can't go wrong with them, so definitely check them out as well.

I'm also not quite sure of tagging etiquette on tumblr so I will just link the accounts instead. I don't think you can ever really go wrong with sorting by 'Kudos' but I know a lot of fics can get missed for a variety of reasons, so I tried to put a list of my top 5 fics that have <30k hits to highlight some of my faves that I don't see shared maybe as much on here :)

These are G/T rated, but if you want other recs or recs for other SC ships let me know, trying to keep them separate a bit for folks who may not be into more mature ratings :)

Something Borrowed - Janewithawhy A beautifully put together fic, really wonderful structure that is so self-contained. Nearly absent of canon material (save the original Super/Luthor premise) but does such a great job in developing a tactile feel for the setting.

all I want is you - amnesiayourself I am a really big fan of the way this author characterizes both Kara and Lena, and this fic is in peak form!

in the land of the future - seabiscuit Well written prose and a premise I love! I think it's probably one of the best executions on a jealous Lena/Kara theme :)

after - searidings - A much needed bittersweet capstone to what felt like a very rushed season 6 ending, lovely in a very soft supercorp way.

i need you to pencil in the rest - mooosicaldreamz - Great fic, enough said!

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Kiss from a Rose_Part 2

A.N: A three part series featuring Neuvillette x Reader! 

Genshin Impact MasterList

------

“This…is Monsieur Neuvillette? You are quite certain?” 

Paimon was the first to break the silence. You, the Traveler, Paimon, Navia and the twins and Freminet were at the lake that lead down to the Melusine’s village. In lieu of all the drama that Fontaine was in with the missing ludex, the seven of you decided to meet here. Currently, the otter was sitting in the water with everyone was staring at him. 

He calmly looked back, dipping his head once.

"Hold on! Did he understand me?" Paimon asked.

Lyney clapped his hands once, “Well, stranger things have happened!” 

“I’m just glad to know that he is okay….” Freminet murmured. 

“But how?” Navia questioned. 

“That is unimportant.” You dismissed, “Right now, we need to figure out how to turn him back.” 

“Unless, what turned him into an otter could turn him back.” Lynette offered. 

“I thought about that.” You nodded,  “Through trial and error, I did try to retrace Neuvillette’s steps, and it reached into the village. But then he started flipping out. Whatever, it was, he did not want anyone going into that area. So I had it quarantine off. Since he cannot speak, we do not know precisely what to look for. And if we try, we might end up in the same position.” 

The otter splashed once as if in agreement with you. 

“A wise decision.” Navia nodded, “But we will need to fix this before our entire country falls apart. The Steambird has now taken to publish conspiracy theories on his disappearance. Imagine what they would print if he showed up as an otter.” 

You swore you heard Neuvillette sigh. 

You rubbed your temple, “I don’t want to imagine.” 

Navia continued, “Lady Furina is doing all she can to divert the public’s gaze. If nothing else, she is making herself a target for Charolette’s teeth.”

Paimon sighed, “That in and of itself deserves accolade.”

“But rest assured, we are ready to do whatever necessary to bring Monsieur Neuvillette back to normal.”  Navia stated. 

“Yeah, don’t worry, Monsieur Neuvillette, we will find a cure for you!!” Paimon cheered. 

“....” 

“So, any ideas?” Freminet inquired quietly.  

—-

That had been three days ago, and no one seemed to be able to figure out any kind of plan. They tried all sorts of medicine and potions, but nothing seemed to work. By the fourth day, all of you were back at the lake for another meeting. 

“This is getting worrisome now.” The Traveler murmured. 

“I agree! Come on, guys, there has to be something.”  Navia cried frustrated, “I can use my connections to get whatever it is, as long as I know what to get!”

A silence descended. 

“Well…..” Lyney hummed. 

You turned to the magician with wide, expectant eyes. 

“....I do have an idea, but you may not like it.” 

“As long as it turns Neuvillette back to human form! It’s fine! What is it?” 

“It’s quite unconventional….” 

“You're doing an awful lot of setup.” Paimon remarked. 

“Perhaps, a kiss of true love can turn him back. In the stories, it usually turns a beast back into his princely form.” Lyney was dead serious as he looked at you without a hint of a smile. 

You stared at him a good minute. Traveler and Paimon looked at each other as Navia gave a long-suffering sigh. 

You finally turned Lynette and Freminet, “Can I hit him?” 

“Sure. It will save me from having to come out of power saving mode myself.” 

A dip of the head was all from Freminet. 

You reached for Lyney fully intended to slap him upside the head, but he dodged nimbly as he spoke, “My lady, please I beg you a minute to explain!” 

You have finally grabbed at his clothes, snatched his hat and began playing keep away with it.  

“Not my hat! Lynette, Freminet, help me!! Traveler!!” 

The Traveler discreetly looked away, as Paimon only folded her arms, unimpressed.  

“You started this foolishness!” Lynette returned calmly. 

“Look, we have no idea what turned him into an otter in the first place! It could be anything! Which means we need to think outside the box. Nothing conventional has worked so far! So whose to say that this isn’t some magical one off?” 

You eyed the magician for a long moment. 

“At this point, we need to try everything. Even I admit, it sounds like a setup from a storybook, but I just thought I’d put it out there. We aren’t going to give up. All of us will continue looking for a solution, but I’m just trying to present all options. Even the unconventional ones.” 

You gave a sigh, “Well, I do appreciate it. I really couldn’t tell if you were trying for a joke at this time or not.” 

“I’m a magician not a comedian, my lady! With tension being so high, I would never take advantage of it.” 

You gave him back his hat, and he welcomed it back like an old friend. 

“Well, I shall keep it in mind. In the meantime, what other practical solutions are there?” You asked the group. 

—-

You gave a sigh as you entered the house and headed for the bathroom. You slipped off the backpack of water you had used to carry otter Neuvillette in. Unzipping the bag, you placed the sack on the ground. It had a net on top to let in air, so he wouldn’t suffocate. You pulled off the top before turning and filling up the tub. 

Then you sat down with an apology, “I’m sorry. It seems it’s another day without a solution.” 

The otter only shook its head. 

“You're quite patient even during this ordeal. You never fail to amaze me, my dear.” You murmured, reaching out to plant a kiss on the head. Your lips lingered for a moment before you pulled back with a smile, “We’ll figure this out! Tomorrow is a new day!!” 

Once the tub was filled and Neuvillette settled you, you eventually headed to bed. 

Tomorrow was a new day, you reminded yourself. 

You would see Neuvillette through this. 

Part 3

[brokenpieces-72]

Graves Circumstance

Part 3 | Navigation

TW: anxiety, some violence, let me know if I missed any

As you walked around you found yourself experiencing some anxiety. Graves noticed you bracing yourself against posts and benches. Phil stopped every time asking if you needed to take some time. It took little for him to help you sit on the ground to let you breath through it. Right now his primary concern was you. You were waiting for the police station to call you in to retrace your steps and hopefully find where you had been held for so long.

“You sure you want to do this today?” He asked. You needed to do it today, but Graves didn’t want some kid traumatized all over again.

“No… but I want to… I need to.” You said. Phil was impressed. You had guts, and a strong will. Recovery would take time, and he wasn’t about to force anything. Almost didn’t want you to go retrace your steps. Worried you might rush in and crash. If this is what you thought was best he wasn’t going to argue. He checked his phone and still no call or text. Maybe the cop from last night had said something.

“You ready to keep walking?” He asked. You nodded.

“When we go to the station, if you ever feel unsafe or like you need to brace yourself, you speak up. If you can’t, then pat me on the arm, or squeeze my hand or something. Okay?” He asked. You nodded again, and he helped you up to your feet. Just in case you held on to his arm.

Phil wasn’t exactly a patient man, but this was beyond ridiculous. It was the afternoon and no call from the police asking you to come in. Phil tried calling them and got a voice mail. A police station with a voicemail? Really? A small town but come on.

Graves decided to take you there directly, fed up with waiting. When he took you there they explained they had some other things come up. For fuck’s sake, they had a minor come to their precinct carved, bruised and almost naked, and they’re telling him this now? This was a problem. If he had to tell his boys he couldn’t show for some things they would understand but this wasn’t something any station would just put on hold. Had they even gotten in contact with your parents or next of kin? No? Then what hell is he supposed to do with you?

“Mr. Graves we can take care of them, assign an officer to them for witness protection instead.” The cop offered.

“One of your boys already did last night and I told him no.” Phil argued. “Now why the fuck isn’t this case being examined more closely? Or is this not the first time a young kid comes to your station like that?”

“Mr. Graves may I remind you that you have no jurisdiction here, nor are you my superior. So either get out and wait until we call you or leave Y/N with us.”

“I have half a mind to take them to the next town.” Phil continued. “If this doesn’t get sorted soon I’ll sort it myself.”

“And you have no authority Mr. Graves.” The cop said. Phil wouldn’t admit it but he wanted to hit the cop in the face. You were too young to be dealing with this kind of shit.

“I don’t get a call by tomorrow morning I’ll go with them myself. Authority be damned.” Phil warned before storming out of the station, retrieving you on the way out. He was pissed. Something is fucking around and he’d had enough.

Phil got you into the truck and sat in the driver’s seat. No information on you. No information about your case. No one seemed to give a shit. Graves sat there trying to think of what he could do next. Something Phil doesn’t like is when people put him in a box. If he can’t get the cops to help then he’ll help you himself.

He looked in the rear view mirror, and saw you staring out the window. Something didn’t sit right. If you’d shown up to a police station like that, and in a small town like this, the cops would be sending out warnings to locals, there would be manhunts for your captors. More alarms would sound, so why was your appearance only chiming bell? These guys were treating it like it was just another case on their list. At this point he wanted to call Laswell but after everything that had happened she was busy. And he wasn’t someone she’d be willing to talk to.

“Kid?” He asked, noticing you get comfortable under the new blanket. Wait wasn’t that in his bag at the motel? Whatever not important. You perked up to listen. “Let’s take a small trip.”

He put the truck in drive, and headed back to the motel to gather your stuff. You’re fidgeting in the seat, like you wanted to say something. He knew what you wanted to ask, but right now he was banking on your trust. No doubt his reaction to the news broadcast didn’t help your trust issues.

“Need you to trust me here kid.” He said reaching the motel easily enough.

“T-trying.” You said.

“Need a minute?” He asked. You nodded and he got into the backseat. You weren’t tearing up and breathing hard again. “Can you name five things you can see?”

“Uh… the car seat… your brown hair… the motel door… that tree… the door handle.”

“Four things you can touch. Can you name those?”

“The blanket… the seat… my hoodie… warm socks…”

“What are three that you hear?”

“Your voice… um… my breathing… I think my stomach…”

“Two things you can smell? Can be anything.”

“The truck… your after shave… I think it’s your after shave.”

“Body spray, but good enough. What’s your…favourite taste?”

“… dark chocolate.” You answered. Graves nodded.

“Alright, I’ll get you something to eat but right now we’re gonna get our stuff and blow this stand.” He said.

“No fucking- kid stay in the truck.” Graves said putting the truck in park.

“What’s going on?” You asked, as he undid his seatbelt.

“Stay in the truck.” He repeated, pointing to you before closing the door. He stormed over to road block where a couple of cops were standing behind concrete barricades. Hell no, they did not get to pull this shit with him.

“The fuck is this shit?” He demanded.

“Sir, please get back in your truc-“

“Tell me what the fuck is going on first!” He barked at the officer.

“When you tell me what the fuck is with your attitude then I will, until then why don’t you cool off in your truck first?” The cop barked back getting in Graves face with the barricade between them. Graves stared the cop down, pressing his lips and taking a minute. He was a commander, not a sergeant and didn’t like being pushed around. Right now he didn’t get that luxury. He had to reel it in a little.

“I’m sorry officer…?” Graves said, taking a breath.

“Hodgkins.” The officer replied, his face stoic. The more names, the better. Certainly would report them for this crap.

“Been a long day, just trying to get home. My kid misses their mama very much.” Graves exclaimed. Hodgkins glanced down at Graves hand, not seeing a wedding band.

“Are they now?” Hodgkins asked, doubt very heavy in his voice.

“Joint custody. Not the favourite parent.” Graves said, with a half grin. Hodgkins leaned over to try and get a look at you in the truck.

“Small avalanche, pretty much covered the road.” The officer said, as if it were obvious and right behind him. Graves didn’t like that. “There’s a motel in town, you can call your ex to let her know you’ll be late. Sure your kid can understand, that leaving town right now is not an option.”

That last part was a warning and threat, one Graves didn’t take kindly. Phil gave the officer a curt nod, thanked him for the time and got back to the truck. You jumped when he opened and closed the truck door, before turning the truck around and driving back into town. Graves was thinking and fuming. The tension could be hit with a hammer.

“…kind of wish I stabbed him with the fork?” You asked. Graves’ gritted teeth loosened when you said it, smirking.

“Yeah. It’s getting late, and you need a proper dinner.” He said, changing the subject.

While the two of you walked back to the motel Graves was the one scanning the area. He seemed distracted as well. If you wanted to look at some stores he went with you, if only just to look around and kill time.

At one point you come across some plush animals. Your face seemed to light up a little seeing the cute little toys.

There’s a beagle plush with little bandanna around its neck. Graves doesn’t mind getting it for you. He noticed on the drive back his demeanour probably scared you a little. You hadn’t tried to say much of anything and you were often pawing at a blanket or pillow. You were a teenager sure but something you could hold and squeeze couldn’t hurt to have.

At dinner, Graves was able to get takeout and brought it back to the motel with you, while you were thinking of names for your new friend. By now Graves was your living shadow, watching over you, not letting you out of his sight.

“Bailey? No…” you thought out loud.

“What’s wrong with Bailey?” Phil asked.

“Doesn’t look like a Bailey.” You answered. “What about Bagel?”

“Bagel the Beagle… sounds like a kid’s cartoon.” Graves commented.

Once inside you took off your shoes and flopped onto the bed.

“Just in case kid, could you sleep in the further bed tonight?” Graves asked. You looked up at him and then at the closed and tightly locked door. You crawled off the bed and sat on the edge of the other one.

As Graves set the food down on the small counter you figured now would be better than never. “Are we stuck here?”

Graves shrugged off his coat. “If I can’t track down dynamite to blow up that barrier then I’ll find the components.”

Your eyes go wide realizing the situation. You were still trapped. Your cage had merely expanded and given you new privileges. No no, you were so close. Without realizing you were rocking and clawing at your arms, muttering to yourself. Graves came to your side immediately.

“Hey. Look at me. Look at me y/n. I’m not gonna get you out of this. You understand?” His words were firm and stern.

“… it can still find me!” You said, panicked. “I’m gonna get you out of this. I will do everything I can, you got that?” Graves said firm, holding your shoulders. You sniffled, trying to tell yourself that was true. You looked past Graves and eyes widened and your cried out. Graves turned to see a figure peering in the window before trying to run off. Phil was faster. He reached the door and opened it to find an older man. The guy looked startled, but Graves had him by the shirt and against the wall.

“Who are you?!” He demanded.

“Dude, I’m sorry! I swear I thought it was my room!” The guy said, terrified. Graves stared him down.

“How long have you been at the motel for?”

Graves asked. The guy was confused, and Graves shoved him into the wall again.

“Dude I swear! I’m sorry if I scared your kid! I was just checking, my buddy said he got us a room! I just misread the number!” Graves let the guy go, and requested his phone. The guy gave it up quickly, hands up, and pressing against the wall. Graves found the text messages, and sighed. He returned the phone.

“Thank you for your time.” He said, letting the guy tremble some more while he returned to you. He shut the door and locked it drawing the curtains again. When he turned around you were gone.

“Shit… kid?” He called. Graves was cautious now. The guy hadn’t gotten far from the room when Graves caught him. Graves peeked around the beds, and couldn’t find you. He turned the light on in the bathroom. “Kid I’m coming in.”

Graves looked around the door and even drew back the curtain of the shower. Not there either. Then he heard a sound from the counter in kitchen area.

Graves got to the counter and knelt down. He kept his voice down. “Kid it’s me. Gonna open the cupboard now okay?”

Graves opened it and found you inside, curled up tighter than he ever thought possible. You looked uncomfortable and a little stuck. “Ya need some help there partner?”

It was a little awkward but Phil got you out of the cupboard and told you what happened. You just stared at the curtains as he spoke, thinking every shadow that passed seemed to linger for too long.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit

[vy-canis-melodis]

the following is a blog post, written by tanja, in the Bird HRT universe:

UPDATE and a cancelled article!

Hi all, it's been a long time since my last blog post. Here's the deal; I was in hospital. Long story short, some things went pretty wrong, and here I am, having to deal with a huge backwards step in progress then having had to retrace those steps with additional gooey complications and therapy.

Anyway, here's a journalistic article I was pretty close to finishing and submitting to actual newspapers before everything went down and I had to cancel it.

Rejecting Humanity - Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Just Be Myself

As I write this, I'm sitting in the waiting room of a Hospital cross Research Laboratory in London. By the time you're reading this, I'll have been on my treatment journey for over a year. What treatment, you ask? Well, it's Humanity Removal Therapy. One year ago, I undertook a radical new procedure which slowly transforms you from human to another form. Perhaps you've seen strange creatures out and about; a snow leopard at the supermarket, a dog at the drive-thru, or a tuatara at the thrift shop. Or, perhaps, you haven't; as I write this, the number of patients might not yet have reached triple digits worldwide.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Tanja ------, and I am an Iberian Azure-winged Magpie, scientific name 'cyanopica cooki'. One year ago, I was fully human, and now I look like a hybrid between our two species. So, let me guide you through my world.

How is this possible?

A little over a year ago, certain medical circles revealed that species transformation had been trialled in mice, turning them into various other creatures, with various success rates from 20 to 80% depending on size and how different the target species was. Now, I'm not for animal testing, but when I heard that human trials were going to open, I kept that pinned to my calendar. And so, after a few months, I was able to finally sign up and have my first interview. Which was… short. Turns out, they had pretty elaborate ways of gatekeeping people who really meant that they wanted it from those that they thought would regret the procedures. They also had a little joke, based on gender HRT, where they would ask if you'd spent years living as your preferred species beforehand. Or at least, I think it was a joke. And then, I was on my way to becoming the bird I love.

How much did it cost?

Well, luckily for me, the NHS provides free healthcare. Then, due to this being a clinical trial, I get paid for being a test subject. Then, due to the effects of the medicine, I receive Disability Benefits. The treatment itself is… a bit of a legal loophole, really. This very article may well be the first you've heard of it.

Is it just a magic pill?

Nope! It's a mix of CRISPR, gene replacement, hormone injections, and surgeries over time. It's a real mishmash, at least in my case. For example, keratinous structures can be grown through selective DNA editing and hormones that stimulate 'hair' growth in specific areas in specific ways. Bone structure can also slowly be altered in some cases through gene replacement, though in some cases, surgery is needed. My back, for example, will soon be undergoing surgery to adjust the way the vertebrae are laid out. Some aspects just are too difficult to be done naturally, and so artificial parts and prosthetics are added. But this complicated procedure has an upside - it means that there is more customisation possible! For example, a Harpy would be a very specific set of applications of Bird HRT that exclude certain aspects such as the face!

Are there downsides?

Definitely. There's the immunosuppression that has to occur to stop new parts from being rejected. There's the high risk of cancers and other diseases to occur as a result of this procedure. There's just the risk that your organs will fail. Most of this is irreversible too.

Why even do it then?

Because, to that small number of people, it's so worth it. This is a new life, an opportunity to discard that uncomfortable human vessel and be yourself at last. For the vast majority of people, being oneself is being human, but that's not the case for everyone.

Is it going to be banned?

Well, that's hard to say. Governments worldwide are, I'm sure, now aware of this phenomenon. And I think it presents a threat to the status quo. This is something new, something scary, something intimidating, that shifts the power balance between subjects and governers. And it's not just because some people have become huge fire-breathing dragons - it's the meaning behind it. They've rejected the very notion of the social contract between humans and crafted a new identity. Do we still count as people? And that's really the question, isn't it. So much of the way government and society works is to split people into groups of those that are 'more' people, and those that are 'lesser' people - and that dictates what societal violences are permissible, for example. This whole new procedure will have to make governments rethink so much, and it can either be a source of worry for us, or a source of hope for everyone. We just have to be loud enough to be heard for who we are.

So what will come next? Well, I'm going to hop on in to my next appointment, and the Earth will keep spinning. My first set of wings has almost reached full-span, and my toe-dexterity is almost at where I was with hands as a human. With my next set of primaries, I may have enough of a wingspan to fly, if I keep my weight low enough. Meanwhile, Parliament will likely have a debate on the issue, as a petition to legalise the procedure has a few thousand signatures on the government's official petition website. I'll be waiting on that result eagerly.

If you have any other questions, I'd be more than willing to answer them!

[multifandomfix]

Neon Nuptials — Joey Tribbiani

Summary: Letting loose on your Vegas vacation may lead to a bit more than you bargained for when you wake up next to a very handsome guy claiming that you got married the night before.

Word Count: 586

Warnings: Morning After, Drunken Vegas Wedding

The morning sunlight streamed through the half closed curtains, casting a warm glow on the otherwise chilly and unfamiliar hotel room. You groaned, shifting under the warm covers the strange bed provided, as a dull headache throbbed in your temples. Turning your head, you froze when you saw what you could only describe as a beautiful man lying beside you, his eyes barely open, squinting against the light.

"Uh, hey," he mumbled, rubbing his forehead. The hint of a smile on his lips made you want to blush, so it was of no confusion as to how he’d gotten you here. It was just the rest of the night that was a blur.

You blinked, trying to process all the new information despite your pounding head. Glancing around the room, memories from the previous night flashed like fragments of a dream. Laughter, flashing lights, and the unmistakable chaos that was Las Vegas, but nothing solid formed in your mind.

The realization hit when you noticed the golden band wrapped around hot guy’s finger as he stretched and it caught the light. Panic set in as you locked eyes. Once he realized what had made you so alarmed, he was equally baffled.

"Did we... get married," you stammered, your voice shaky.

His eyes widened, and he sat up abruptly. "Married? No way. I mean, I like you, but this is crazy. Even by my standards!"

As you both tried to make sense of the situation, you exchanged uncertain glances. He scratched his head, looking around the room as if it held clues to the night's events.

"We must've had one hell of a night," he said, confusion lacing his voice. It almost sounded as if he wasn’t speaking directly to you.

Still struggling to recall the details yourself, you brought to mind some dancing and what seemed like a relentless stream of shots. Embarrassingly enough, you weren’t even sure of his name. You thought on it for a moment and ‘Joey’ echoed faintly in your memory, but the rest still proved elusive.

"Okay, we need to figure this out," Joey declared, determination in his eyes. "First things first, what's your name?"

You instinctively wanted to hit him for not remembering your name, but you hadn’t immediately remembered his either. So, fair is fair.

As you both retraced your steps from the previous night, more snippets of memories emerged. A quirky and sort of bad Elvis impersonator, and a spontaneous —or perhaps the better word was reckless— decision to get married bridged the gaps in your mind.

By the time you reached the casino where it all began, you found yourself holding hands with Joey, your wedding rings catching the glint of the neon lights as you walked past each bright sign. You’d set out to get the marriage annulled, but the realization that you might have stumbled into something beautiful amidst the chaos of Vegas began to sink in.

"So, uh, maybe this isn't as crazy as it seemed at first," you said, having doubts. Sure, you’d made an impulsive move, but Joey was a sweet guy, someone you were willing to take a chance on, even if you weren’t drunk.

"Yeah, you think so?" You nodded, grateful for his easygoing nature at this unexpected turn of events. As you embraced the uncertainty of your newfound connection, you couldn't help but think that Vegas might have gifted you with something other than a hazy memory. It had given you a partner in the form of Joey Tribbiani.

For 🐻 Anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie

Joey Tribbiani: @randomfandomimagine, @smilely-days, @phantomofclownery, @stressydepressyandlemonzesty, @ourlifeforchaos, @garlicbreadrry

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Forget-Me-Not 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: You return to your childhood home to put the past to rest.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You spend the night on the couch. You don't go further than the bathroom. You can't bring yourself to check her bedroom or the one you left behind.

You go out to get your bag and change in the yellow haze glowing behind the faded curtains. You check the time. Jan is expecting you in an hour.

You emerge into the dewy morning and tramp down to ground level. You get in the car, reversing out without looking back at the dingy house. The final farewell can't come soon enough for the slanted walls.

Jan is out in the yard, hammering a pineboard as you drive down his lot. His white hair curls with the sweat beading on his skin. He stills the hammer and wipes his forehead as you pull up. 

You get out as he greets you in the way all the villagers do. A manufactured friendliness that cannot erase their true judgement. They smile in face just as easily as the mutter your name under their breath. You mother harboured little good will in Hammer Ford and blood is sacred here.

“Sorry to hear,” he says.

“Matter of time,” you shrug dismissively.

“Isn't no way to come home,” he shakes his head and coughs into his fist, “walnut,” he points the hammer over his shoulder, “like ya said.”

Walnut, like the dining table. Where she sat and drank herself into that box. You nod and follow him over to the casket. The hinges are brass and the finish is rough. What does it matter? It's just going into the dirt.

“Got cash,” you say. Jan doesn't deal with the bank, everyone knows that. Funny the little things that stick with you.

“Thanks,” he accepts the bills as you count them out. So much for a rainy day. The sun shine bright as if mocking the grin affair beneath its watch. “I'll have it taken down to Norn's.”

“Yep,” you agree, “she's there.”

You head out without further niceties. Neither of you uphold those. Better to say what you mean and nothing else.

You get to the property line and idle. You turn away from the woods. You're not ready to go back yet. 

You stop by the church first. Father Oswald sits with you to discuss the ceremony. You'll say a few words at the grave site. You don't think anyone would come to a wake. You don't want them to.

You set off again, still reluctant to retrace your steps. You drive to the spare core of the village and park outside the library. You cross the street and peer in through the window of the bakery. It wasn't there when you left.

You venture inside and peruse the sweets behind the glass. You order a black coffee and a cinnamon bun. You pay the woman behind the counter, vaguely familiar. You're certain she was a few years behind you at school.

You sit and pick at the glazed dough. You don't have much of an appetite. You don't feel much of anything. You're just wading through, try not to get lost in the tide.

You sip the coffee. Bold but rich. Not bad. Better than the instant powder gone stale in your mother's cupboard.

The door opens and shuts, several times over as you stare at the table. The city taught you apathy. You don't let the noise bother you.

The chair across from you slides out and a figure plants themselves on the seat. You raise your head, your vision narrowing to make sense of their features. You turn your head to gaze out the window as Loki blows over the top of a mug. 

You slide out your phone, a defence mechanism. Still no reception. You put it down and keep your attention diverted. He clears his throat and taps his toe next to yours.

“You know, I do have an important matter to discuss with you,” he says.

You don't react. You know that's what he wants. That's why he showed up the night before. He undoubtedly insisted on being his clan’s representative.

“You've sent your condolences.”

“Mm, yes, but that isn't what I mean,” he traces his finger up the handle of his mug. “The house.”

You lower your brows and keep your eyes beyond the window. The village moves slow as ever. Not like the endless flow of the city streets. There's no where to hide here.

“My father has an offer. The property has value.”

You check your cup, almost empty. You swig the last of it. You stand and gather the cup and unfinished dessert. You put the porcelain on the counter and toss the cinnamon bun on your way out.

The door doesn't close behind you. He's following you. Your heartbeat piques. In an instant, you're hurled into the past. You're running through broken twigs as he snickers behind you. You ball your hands as your breath hitches.

You cross the street without looking, only just dodging a bumper. You go to your car, fumbling with your keys. Before you can stick them in the slot, there's a snare around your arm.

You spin and shove Loki off of you, biting down on a shriek. You glare at him and point the key at his chin.

“Not interested.”

“My father will give you more than the bank,” he counters. 

“Don't care.”

He sniffs and quorks his head, “is this because I never called?”

You choke on a scoff. You turn and ram the keys in the slot and twist. You open the door as you step around it. The edge hits him as you swing into the driver’s seat.

“The house is worthless. The bank will give you pennies for the land.”

“Go tell your daddy you failed,” you sneer and yank the door shut, hitting the lock with your fist.

You start the engine without a glance in his direction. You pull put as he barely avoids getting his toes run over. Just as ever, this village belongs to the Odinsons. They won't have to pay the bank much to get what they want but you will never sign your name next to theirs.