#I'm not sure how to tag this so there's that

[thedosianexplorer]

In case this saves anyone else from this pain, I'm going to borrow @thebibliosphere's tag:

^^^GUESS WHO WAS PRESCRIBED THAT MEDICATION FROM AGES 7-16 AND AGAIN AT 29 (it me)

I'm going to guess that the above drug referenced is montelukast (Singulair) because that's the only one I know with a black box warning. Montelukast, brand name Singulair, first became available in the US and UK in 1998. This black box warning did not exist before 2020. That's why I'm writing this, because many of us asthmatics were first prescribed montelukast prior to the risks of this drug being public knowledge when nothing else worked, because it was cheaper, or because our insurance wouldn't cover anything else.

If you are an asthmatic prescribed montelukast and any of the below resonates with your experience, speak to your provider about alternatives immediately:

I was prescribed Singulair in 1998 when my extremely debilitating asthma didn't respond to other treatment. I remember the child version of the drug was chewable and tasted a bit like chalky strawberry. My doctor assured my mother that it was "basically a sugar pill" (a common marketing phrase for the drug in 1998 as it turns out; I even got a Singulair pen to take home instead of a sticker). It worked! It curbed life-threatening asthma attacks and cut down the amount of albuterol I needed, which I had to curb because its carcinogenic properties actively made my respiratory system worse.

It also gave child me terrible insomnia, depression, obsessive-compulsive tendencies, paranoia, and ADHD (yes, current academic research shows a correlation between developing ADHD and long-term use of this drug, especially in kids, due to mechanisms that impact impulse control centers of the brain). This happened basically overnight and I had no idea what was happening to me or the vocabulary to explain it. There was nothing at the time that suggested Singulair could play a role in this. My parents thought I was just throwing a prolonged tantrum over moving/changing schools. The symptoms never went away but I "was a pleasure to have in class" so.

I was told to discontinue the drug in my late teens in favor of Symbicort and the immediate "I have a life to live" feeling kicked in. I'm pretty sure that is a huge factor in me surviving to graduate high school. I wouldn't have known the two things were related until I got laid off in 2021, couldn't afford my Symbicort prescription, and all my marketplace insurance would cover was montelukast. 2021 was the first time I ever had the black box warning read to me. I was told it was just a formality because I "should be fine with a previous history of taking the drug".

I had suicidal depression, psychosis, and paranoia fed to me one pill at a time for several months. Had it not been for the ongoing pandemic I DEFINITELY would have done something impulsive and potentially permanent because of how this drug made me feel. It took several months for me to realize what was happening and for my provider to fight with insurance to cover the Symbicort. Once I discontinued the drug, the fog lifted almost immediately.

I do not in any way regularly experience suicidal ideation or depression so that happening clued me in pretty quickly that something was wrong (I've also had similar side effects with hormonal birth control generic Junel so that is definitely something to keep in mind too). Many patients, advocates, and families who lost loved ones shared similar information in patient forums until it became impossible to ignore and the FDA investigated in 2019. It's subsequently become known that the FDA knew as early as 2009 that montelukast caused intense suicidal ideation and psychological disturbances in children/young adults, that it was known within Merck that this happened prior to the drug receiving FDA approval, and Merck lobbied to have the drug approved anyway, because of course they did (here's a recent link sharing FDA preliminary findings on why this drug behaves this way for some).

I am very grateful to the families who did their very best to understand why their loved ones took their own lives and lobbied the FDA to create a warning for this drug. They very likely saved my life, and certainly saved me from excruciating side effects. I am sorry it took so many deaths to change this. If you or a loved one lives in the US and are struggling with suicidal thoughts, here's a link to warm-lines who don't involve law enforcement.

99% of "mysterious disappearances" esp of people in their 20s who start acting weird for 48 hours and then vanish are not mysterious, thats just when a lot of reality-obliterating mental illness tends to kick in and it's pretty easy to get a short circuit in your brain that makes you go family guy death pose in joshua tree national park. it's not any less tragic, it's just a documented phenomenon and not particularly predictable. its a big reason the medical advice is for people with a family history of schizophrenia to completely avoid weed and psychedelics. "people just go crazy sometimes" is a principle of human health that used to be a lot more accepted prior to the american midcentury and to a certain extent thats a healthier way to conceptualize and prepare for the risk, as opposed to the modern assertion that anyone acting weird is dangerous and broken forever.

[lxvemaze]

THE ART OF LOVE

chapter 016.

series masterlist

<<previous chapter | epilogue

SERIES SYNOPSIS. when chris texted an artist he found on instagram with the hopes of them designing an album cover for him, he never expected to fall head over heels in love with them.

PAIRING. bangchan x reader

WC. 4k

CHAPTER TAGS. written

CHAPTER WARNINGS. written from bangchan's pov, one out of pocket jisung comment (but not really), sad sad sad, but then happy happy happy, i'm delusional so i gave art girl my favorite coffee order

A/N. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER I'M LITERALLY GOING TO CRYYYYYYYYY THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING THIS SERIES IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME. I HOPE YOU ALL LOVE THIS CHAPTER AND KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR THE EPILOGUE 🫶(also, i'm sorry if this is lowkey ass, i had to rewrite it bc my laptop hates me)

Cold was the only word on Chris’ mind as he woke from his nap in the green room. The group was doing an early-morning promotion, and Chris had gotten far less sleep the previous night than he would have liked. But how could he have gotten any sleep in this city? How could he have gotten any sleep knowing that he’s in the same city as her?

Every day of the past year, Chris had been doing nothing more than simply going through the motions. Every moment felt like it was draped in a haze, his life that was once clear and bright now felt blurred and dull. Chris’ whole being was constantly consumed by the guilt of knowing that she was out there, thinking about him.

He’d never intended for it to go as far as it did. When he first messaged her, he’d just recently been broken up with, and was trying to work through those emotions through the creation of a new album. The cover of the album was supposed to be symbolic, a visual representation of him letting his former lover go. How could he have expected to fall in love with the person he paid to depict it?

Even after his company had told him that they didn’t approve the artist, that she was a liability, that she could damage his career, he still held on. He didn’t tell her until it was too late. And that selfish action was enough to ruin not just himself, but also his younger brothers who’d grown to care for her like family, His best friend Hyunjin who loved her the same as Chris. But the worst part of it was that he knew it had ruined her the most.

Chris tried to tell himself that his feelings for her were just a fluke, that he was just lonely or desperate or something. That he’d get over her eventually. But how could that be true when a whole year later, she was still the only thing on his mind?

Chris went throughout his day as mindlessly as he usually did, wordlessly letting the stylists fix him up, bringing life back into his face that had slightly sunken and paled over the past twelve months. He gave polite smiles to the staff, answered interview questions as intelligently as his dazed brain could, and tried his best to be a good leader to his brothers- an area he felt he’d been trying to improve in lately.

After she left, Chris’ relationship with his entire group had been strained. His actions had tainted the smart, strong, caring older brother image that they’d had of him in their minds, and he was doing all he could to restore it. Oddly enough, his relationship with Hyunjin had improved greatly after the events of the previous year. They had a certain understanding of each other's actions that the others simply couldn’t see.

The younger members had slowly come back around to Chris- Jeongin slowest of all. Jeongin arguably had the closest relationship with The Artist, and Chris’ selfishness had hurt him so badly, Chris wasn’t sure that their relationship would recover.

And yet, slowly but surely, Jeongin came back around to him. In fact, Jeongin had been on Chris’ tail all morning long. Over the twelve hours that the group was on set, Jeongin had been by Chris’ side for roughly eleven of those hours. The two were planning on going to some cafe that Jeongin had recommended after the long day of promotions. If Chris were to tell the truth, he’d say that he was much too tired to go anywhere after promotions. He wanted a nap. SO badly. But fixing his strained relationship with Jeongin took precedence over his already suffering sleep schedule.

“You ready to go?” Jeongin peeked his head into the green room as Chris slowly rose from his seat, groaning and stretching his aching limbs. “Good thing we’re going to a cafe. You look like you could use some coffee.” Jeongin giggled as Chris followed him out of the small room and into the hallway. Chris nodded along, rubbing his eyes and letting the younger man lead him towards the front door, silently thanking him with a nod as Jeongin handed him a mask, immediately placing it over his face before they exited the building.

Chris stared out the window from the backseat of one of the staff members' cars, absently wondering if she was sitting in one of the dozens of cars they sped past. Chris didn’t know what he’d do if he saw her. Maybe he’d turn and run the other direction, maybe he’d immediately call his management to tell them that he’s quitting to run away with her. Or maybe he’d just stand there like an idiot.

The events of the past year had sparked a lot of conversation between the staff and members of the group, especially with their contract renewal coming up in just a few weeks. No one wanted another “Artist situation” as the staff were calling it. Chris didn’t know what they were thinking. Whether it be changing their contract to allow dating, or putting them on an even stricter ban, he didn’t much care. He genuinely didn’t know if he’d be able to find it in him to love anyone else for a long time.

On the other side of the car, Jeongin was practically vibrating with excitement as he stared at his phone, scrolling through the DMs he’d sent to his favorite person. He quietly giggled to himself as he opened his navigator app and saw that they were a mere ten minutes from reuniting with the person that had consumed their every waking moment of the past year.

“What are you laughing at?”

Jeongin reflexively shoved his phone in his pocket, folding his hands on his lap before looking up at his older brother in what he hoped was a very non-suspicious way. “...Nothing. Jisung texted me something.”

“Of course.” Chris chuckled, leaning his head against the window again. “What did he say this time?”

“Uh…” Jeongin took his phone out of his pocket, pretending to scroll through his texts for a moment while he attempted to think of something that could have come from Jisung’s foul mouth. “Something about…sucking dick?”

Jeongin saw Chris nod from the corner of his eye, sighing internally that he hadn’t seemed to pick up on what was happening yet.

The truth was, Chris had noticed Jeongin acting weird- Hyunjin too, for that matter. He figured it was just the time of year. It was just after the one-year anniversary of her leaving, and everyone had been dealing with it in their own way.

Minutes later, the staff member in the driver's seat pulled to the sidewalk and informed the two that they had arrived. They thanked the driver and stepped out of the car, looking around and taking in the sight of all the boujee boutiques, cafes, and bakeries on the downtown street.

“Is this it?” Chris pointed just down the street to one of the cuter shops of the street; a quaint little cafe/bookstore combo with numerous plants in the window and comfy looking seats inside. Jeongin nodded with a lopsided grin plastered on his face. The two started towards the cafe before Jeongin stopped in his tracks, smacking his forehead with his palm and exclaiming,

“Ohh wait a second!”

Chris turned to his younger friend, quirking an eyebrow at him as Jeongin looked down the street behind him. “What?”

“I forgot that I need to grab…a thing…from a store. You go ahead and order, I’ll be right back! Get me a peppermint frappuccino!” Jeongin called to Chris as he ran back down the street the way they came, leaving Chris absolutely dumbfounded at his friend's sudden exit.

Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking in the direction Jeongin ran, and back over his shoulder to the cafe, mentally debating on whether to chase after his mischievous friend or to just go into the cafe and order an americano before he fainted in the middle of the sidewalk.

After little mental debate, he decided on the latter. The inside of the cafe was just as charming as the outside, comfortable mismatched heavily-cushioned seats surrounded several dark brown tables. Tall bookshelves adorned every wall, with paintings made by local artists filling any gaps left by the shelves.

There was a fairly long line stemming from the coffee bar in the back of the shop, Chris noticed as he stopped behind a girl with unnaturally colored hair that the menu didn’t have Jeongin’s requested order. He figured he’d just order a hot chocolate with a peppermint espresso shot.

The line was moving slowly, even though people sat down to claim a table after they ordered, it felt like the line wasn’t progressing at all. Chris glanced around the shop again and at all the different patrons scattered around. It seemed to be a hot spot for the local hipsters. As Chris’ gaze danced over all the different people in line, his eyes were quickly drawn to the keychain on the bag of the girl in front of him. 

When Hyunjin had taken her to the art museum back in Seoul, she’d gotten one that looked exactly like it. She said it was her favorite thing that she’d bought during her whole trip. Chris hadn’t realized the line had moved on without him until the person behind him tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to move forward.

Before he knew it, it was the girl with the colored hair’s turn to order. Apparently, she needed a moment as she stood in silence for a moment, looking up at the menu behind the counter, much to the chagrin of the barista at the register.

“Could I please get a lavender oat milk latte?”

It felt like Chris had been decked in the face with a bag of cinder blocks as she spoke. 

Any and all thoughts had immediately abandoned his mind as the barista rang her up and she thanked the worker in the sweet tone that Chris knew all too well.

Chris’s heart ached at the sweet smile on her face as she turned around. However, the smile quickly faded as she saw the man that had been standing behind her. The two stood in equally stunned silence as they took each other in. Chris’ eyes trailed down The Artist’s frame, quickly taking in the fact that she was paler and thinner than he’d remembered. The Artist noticed the same about him.

“Excuse me, you two are holding up the line.” The barista spoke from behind the counter, her annoyed tone prompting The Artist to turn around and flash her an apologetic smile, and gently place her hand on Chris’ bicep, leading him out of the line.

Chris’ eyes didn’t leave her face as she was looking seemingly anywhere but him. She cleared her throat nervously, Chris’ eyes burning into her face.

“Do you wanna sit down?”

Chris nodded before she silently led him to the table for two by the front window, placing her bag over the back of one of the seats and sitting down, folding her hands on top of the table.

Chris sat across from her, and the two sat in silence.

Chris could hear her shaky uneven breaths, and noticed her folded hands shaking on the table. It took everything in his to not reach over and hold them in his own.

“I saw the painting.”

Her eyes glanced up to meet his as he spoke, but she looked away as quickly as their eyes met. “I was hoping you had.”

Another bout of silence.

“So…” Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair before mirroring her position and folding his hands on the table, his fingers mere centimeters from hers. “What are you doing here?”

“Well���I was supposed to meet a potential client.” She was a lot quieter than Chris remembered.

“That could’ve been dangerous.”

“Yeah, well…I haven’t been out much lately. Figured this would be a good opportunity.”

More silence followed her statement, the pit of guilt in Chris’ stomach clawing at him from the inside. Her reasoning for being here, her visibly sunken appearance, her hair…

“You changed your hair.” She looked up at him again, her eyes remaining on his this time as she reached up instinctively to touch the colored locks, a small smile gracing her face.

“Oh yeah…Just trying something out, I guess.”

“I like it.”

The smile quickly dropped from her face at Chris’ words, her eyes looking down at her lap once more. Chris sighed and leaned back in his seat. What the hell should he say? ‘I’m sorry’? ‘I still love you’? ‘Let’s run away together’? Although he sincerely felt every one of those statements, none of them could express how he felt. None of those would make up for the pain and sadness that he’d inflicted on her, himself, and those closest to him. He was stuck. This has to be hell.

“So, is your company not as fucked up anymore, or are you breaking the rules just by sitting here right now?”

Her words caused an unprompted laugh to escape Chris’ mouth. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face, taking a steadying breath before looking back at the woman across from him. She was still so pretty.

“No, I probably shouldn’t be here right now. Jeongin and I were just going to get a cup of coffee and-” Jeongin. Of course he did. “That little fucker” Chris sighed, looking out the window for any sign of the scheming young man.

The Artist across from him stared in confusion, “Jeongin? Where is he?”

“He…went to grab something before coming here. I don’t know. We’re here for a schedule and probably forgot something at home.”

“Chris…are we just not going to talk about-”

“Let’s just leave.”

“...What?” She stared at him completely dumbfounded by his words, his eyes staring intently into hers, completely unwavering.

“Let’s go.” He repeated softly, reaching his hands over to grab her own. “I can’t do this anymore. You have no idea how badly I missed you. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think of before I fall asleep. I have spent every minute of every day regretting the fact that I didn’t fight for you. The regret of putting my career and my company before you has been eating me alive. I thought I could get over it, but I can’t. Seeing you again made me realize that. So let’s just leave.”

“Chris, you can’t do that to the kids.”

“We’ll take them with us. All of us can just live together in a secluded cabin somewhere.”

“You know we can’t do that. I know you know we can’t.”

Chris sighed and ran his thumbs over her knuckles, her bright pink nail polish peeking through the gaps of his hand. “I know. I just can’t say goodbye again.”

“Chris, I love you. I could never stop loving you. I just don’t know what to do.” Chris’ hands left at the Artist’s words. His eyes hadn’t left hers since he started speaking, and he’d noticed the tears starting to well in the corners.

“I’m supposed to be renewing my contract soon. I’ll tell them…I’ll convince them to let this happen. I don’t give a fuck about the company anymore. I can live without them. I can just start over. But I can’t live without you and start over with someone else.”

“God, Chris, I want nothing more than to be with you. But the last thing I ever wanted was for me to hold you back in any way.” She took a deep breath, wiping the tears away from her eyes. She opened her mouth to continue, but the two were startled out of their seats by a loud pounding on the window next to them. They turned to see the source of the noise, and saw Jeongin pressed against the window, waving excitedly. As soon as he was sure the two saw him, he immediately ran into the shop and made a beeline for The Artist, giving her a tight hug that nearly knocked her out of her seat.

“I missed you so much.” The boy cried as she stood up to return his hug properly, neither of them caring about the other patrons of the cafe side-eyeing them.

“I knew it was you.” Her voice cracked as her arms tightened around him, not minding the feeling of his shoulders shaking with his sobs, or the warm tears on her shoulder as he pressed his face into her neck.

Chris watched with a sad smile on his face as he watched the two embrace. Eventually, Jeongin pulled away from The Artist and turned to Chris, stretching his arm out, prompting Chris to wrap his arms around the two people who meant the most to him. His whole world.

ONE YEAR LATER…

“We’ll make it work.” Chris sighed as he pressed his lips into The Artist’s hair. “We can’t lose you.”

“Chan! Where’s my suitcase?” Jeongin called out from the living room, the sound of him stomping around the room was clear even where Chris stood in the kitchen.

“Minho put all the suitcases in the foyer.” Chris replied as he rushed to finish packing the bag of snacks from home for their long journey.

“Chan! Do you have an extra tote bag?” Felix asked as he passed through the kitchen.

“I think in the laundry room.”

“I don’t know where that is! Why the hell did you have to move into this giant house?”

“Because, they’re leaving room for growth. Chan and Art Babe go at it like, 24/7. They’re gonna end up with twelve kids by the time they’re forty. Surprised they haven't made an announcement yet. Laundry room is all the way down the hall and to the left, by the way.” Jisung mused as he strolled in, taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Shut up, Jisung!” Hyunjin yelled from the top of the staircase.

“I’m home!” A voice called from the foyer, prompting Chris’ head to pop up like a meerkat. Felix and Jisung rolled their eyes affectionately at their older brothers’ demeanor before Felix went to find the laundry room.

“Speak of the devil.” Jisung grinned, taking a large bite of apple as she entered the room, placing the grocery bags that adorned her arms on the counter, rolling her eyes at her friend.

“I don’t wanna know.” She sighed and she walked around the counter, placing a kiss to Chris’ cheek before washing her hands. “You guys heading to the airport soon?”

“Yeah, in about ten minutes, as long as everyone can find their stuff in time.” He ran his hand across her lower back as he passed her on his way to the pantry.

“Alright, I’m gonna go wait in the foyer just in case you two decide to start banging on the counter.” Jisung pulled a faux-disgusted face at the two, tossing his finished apple in the garbage and promptly making his exit.

“He loves us, really.” The Artist sighed as she dried her hands. Chris hummed in agreement and he shoved the last few items in the bag and zipped it up. “Oh!” She exclaimed, rushing to the fridge, taking out eight small tupperware and sorting them out on the counter. “I made meals for you all to eat on the plane. I know it’s not a long flight, but I know the kids all hate that airline’s food, so I figured they’d appreciate it.”

Chris smiled softly as his lover as she spoke enthusiastically about the individual meals that she’d prepared for their friends, the diamond on her left hand shimmering in the light. They’d been living together for six months now, and had been cherishing every second of it. Chris was thankful for every second that he got to spend with her. Just ten months ago, he had fought his company tooth and nail for his and his members rights to their own privacy. With the majority of their staff backing them and the fact that they’d all agreed to not renew their contracts if the company didn’t agree, there was nothing left for them to do.

After they’d successfully gotten their conditions written into their contract, Chris and his Artist were finally free to love each other as they always had. She moved into an apartment in Seoul a few months later, and not long after that, she and Chris bought their first house together. Just a week after that, Chris proposed. After a year of being apart, they realized that they didn’t want to waste a single second.

“Chan! The van’s here!” Changbin poked his head into the kitchen, giving a little wave to The Artist.

“Hey! Tell everyone to come in here and grab their dinner.” She addressed Changbin, who immediately nodded and gave her a little salute before turning and relaying the message to the others. She turned to her fiance, who was leaning on the counter, his eyes still on her. She leaned over the counter and gave him a soft kiss, bringing her hand up to run her hands through his curls that he’d been taking such great care of lately. “You’ll make sure they get their dinners into their carry-ons?”

“Of course.” He whispered against her lips, pressing a short kiss to them before pulling away and grabbing the tupperware marked with his name.

All at once, the seven other men in the house stormed into the kitchen like a stampede. One-by-one, they grabbed their dinners and hugged The Artist, bidding her goodbye and telling her they loved her before rushing out of the house and into the van that awaited them outside.

“I put the brushes I borrowed back into your art room, and I noticed you had some brushes soaking, so I put them on the mat to dry.” Hyunjin, who was the last to leave, informed The Artist and they embraced.

“I appreciate you. See you when you get back.” She patted his back and smiled sweetly at him as they pulled back. He returned the smile and turned to leave, giving her one last wave over his shoulder before exiting the home.

Chris waited before he heard the front door close before walking around the counter to his lover and pulling her in for a tight hug, his hands holding her close as his lips pressed into her hair, breathing in her scent before he had to leave. “I love you so much, my beautiful girl.”

She pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, smiling at him, her gaze filled with nothing but adoration. She leaned in once more to give him another lingering kiss, making sure she wouldn’t forget the taste of his lips anytime soon. “I love you, too. My beautiful man.”

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.” His hands went down to her own, holding them gently, his thumb running over the beautiful rock on her finger.

“Go have fun. Keep an eye on those kids.”

He chuckled and pressed his lips to her cheek quickly, grabbing the tupperware back off the counter. “You know I will. I love you.”

“I love you. Now get out of my house.” She gave his back a light push and followed him to the front door as he giggled.

“Hey.” He turned around, his hand on the door handle. “It’s our house.”

She couldn’t resist pecking him once more as he opened the front door. “Our house.”

He gave her a look that could only be described as pure love before turning and rushing towards the van. She stood out on the front porch, seeing the boys in the van waving at her through the window as the van pulled away from the sidewalk and drove off.

Her heart didn’t ache as the van drove out of sight. Because she knew that they would come back. That she’d never have to truly be without them again. Because they were family. And no one could take that away.

TAGLIST.

@nightmarenyxx @seungmincenteric @brbwritingfanfic @hanniesdegree @queenofviolenceandnerds @jennibahng @steddie-steddie @boofheadeily @weird-bookworm @bookishcaptain @sincerely-sun @vxllxnsworld @staytinyluv @ruth-odyssey @ravengxbss @hanniemylovelyquokka @thedistractedwriter @lixies-favorite-cookie @chrizrizz @stilldontknowhoiam @jazziwritesthings @s0mflwr @lostidiot24 @seungzsmin @soaplickerrr @youreyeson1y @mbioooo0000 @seungminsapuppy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @missvanjii @dailyyhyvne @skzaholix @starzystay @my-neurodivergent-world @hyunjinswrld @momhwa1117 @divineinsanity @rakshithanotrao @thatgirlangelb @sona1800 @mehli-00 @sukss @justiceforvillains @starlostastronaut @stephanieeeyang @reallychaoticwoo @finnbbl @borahae-reads @hopelesromanticy @crownj1min

[secriden]

WAIT.

What if Fadel goes on the run not, as I thought before, because the police are on to him/them.

But because he's trying to save Style from Bison????

Potential reasons why this could work:

Fadel seems way more conflicted about this than Bison in this scene

He's asking Bison what he, not they, are going to do. Although this could be a translation thing :'(

It explains why Style is with him but seemingly reluctant (at first) to be there.

Style not realising why Fadel is dragging him on the run/not fully understanding the danger he's in could explain the whole "handcuff to the bed" scene

It's Fadel that wants to stay and figure out if it is really Kant/Style. Bison was ready to vanish into the night.

Fadel has more reasons to forgive Style (Style didn’t know at first; Style has been dropping painfully obvious hints in context that he knew) and frankly a better disposition (less drastically emotional, more patient, more focused on finding solutions than dwelling on the problem) than Bison has to forgive Kant.

[aventurineswife]

I’m

Have a stupid idea

So, reader has been a genshin player for a while and a dedicated Alhaitham main, always gushing over him when they’re able to get a good look at his model. Which, unbeknownst to reader, he can hear them, the characters are aware to some degree. But then they get isekai’d into the game and proceed to avoid him like the plague because he’s very hot intimidating in person and also almost a foot taller than reader

Could I maybe get a drabble or hcs of this stupid lil thing?

“Am I Still Perfect?”

Tags: Alhaitham x Reader, Drabble, Isekai, Fluff, Humor, Light Embarrassment.

A/N: please make sure to read the pinned post next time (especially the closed reqs)🧍‍♀️... I'm making an exception this time but I won't do it again.

You had always admired Alhaitham from the comfort of your screen. His sharp wit, broad shoulders, and meticulously crafted voice lines made him your favorite Genshin character. Pulling him during his banner felt like winning the lottery, and you were notorious among your friends for your constant gushing over him.

“Look at him,” you’d sigh, zooming in on his model during idle animations. “He’s so perfect.”

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham was well aware of your doting admiration. The Traveler’s world (aka your world) wasn’t as disconnected as you thought, and your praises reached his ears like whispers on the wind. He never mentioned it, of course. What use would it be to comment on the opinions of someone from an entirely different dimension?

Then you woke up in Sumeru.

You weren’t sure how it happened, but you were here, flesh and bone in a world you once navigated with a mouse and keyboard (or your phone). The lush foliage and warm breeze were incredible, but so was the realization that you’d be meeting the people you once thought of as mere pixels.

People like him.

The first time you saw Alhaitham in the Akademiya, you nearly fainted. Not because you were starstruck—though you certainly were—but because he was much more intimidating in person. His presence was magnetic, his sharp eyes even more piercing than you could’ve imagined, and his sheer height made you feel like a mouse in the shadow of a falcon.

You ducked behind a bookshelf, heart hammering. No way. Absolutely not. You could not face him.

From then on, you avoided him like the plague. If you saw his hair glinting in the sun, you’d take another path. If you heard his voice nearby, you’d excuse yourself from the conversation and flee.

But Alhaitham wasn’t stupid. He’d noticed you skulking around, eyes wide as you scurried away whenever he entered a room.

“Strange,” he murmured to himself one day. “They seemed far more enthusiastic in their words before.”

Finally, your luck ran out. You turned a corner in the marketplace and smacked straight into him. His firm chest was like a wall, and you stumbled back, your brain short-circuiting as you craned your neck to meet his gaze.

“Careful,” he said, his voice low and measured. “You might hurt yourself running around like that.”

“I—I—uh—” Words failed you.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head. “You’ve been avoiding me. Why?”

Your face burned. Oh no, he noticed?! “N-no reason! You’re just—uh—very busy, and I didn’t want to bother you!”

His lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “I don’t mind being bothered. In fact, I think you owe me an explanation for all the… glowing praise you’ve been giving me.”

You wanted to sink into the ground. He knows?!

“That’s—uh—it’s not—uh…”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “Am I still… perfect?”

Your knees wobbled. Alhaitham straightened, a satisfied glint in his eye. “I’ll take your silence as a yes. Now then, I believe I’ll see you around more often.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving you frozen, flustered, and thoroughly defeated.

[bewitchabyss]

— THE LOVE & DEEPSPACE MLS' NSFW HEADCANONS

PAIRING(S): rafayel + sylus + xavier + zayne x afab! reader

TAGS: bathroom sex + bondage + exhibitionism + fingering + marking + mirror sex + missionary sex + oral sex (cunnilingus) + riding + rough sex + sensory play + spanking + voice play

NOTES: the new set of cards is insane and you bet i'll be whipping out oneshots for them once they drop ;) anyway the grip that these cards have on me is insane, i'm on my knees frfr 🧎‍♀️

— RAFAYEL | QI YU

oh sure, he will play nice at the beginning and let you have your way — he will let you do anything you want to him. that is, until you push him to a point where he's too riled up to sit back and pretend it does not affect him at all. that's when he will uno reverse you and put you in your place.

on some occasions, he likes holding your arms over your head and watch you squirm as he thrusts into you, completely at his mercy. other times, he enjoys the sensation of your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks across his shoulder blades. after all, it's proof that he made you feel good, right?

he lives to serve you and puts your needs first before his. he could eat you out and his dick could be throbbing and call it a night.

i assume ebb day works similarly like a rut cycle, so he would get especially needy during this period. he would be rubbing himself all over you and would, quite literally, take you right there and then at his doorway the moment you walk into his studio. (have you had sex on his couch before? multiple times.)

he would always check in on you to make sure he didn't hurt you in any way. he could be biting you and leaving a whole trail of hickies down your neck, but once the high is over, he will look at your neck wide-eyed, run his fingers gently down your skin, and ask, "sorry cutie, did it hurt a lot?"

— SYLUS | QIN CHE

he is big on sensory play and particularly enjoys blindfolding you during sex. he claims it's because your senses are heightened when you are deprived of sight, but mayhaps it fuels his innate desires seeing you so helpless without being able to see. ("who's the hunter now, kitten?" he purrs as he licks your neck, eliciting a choked gasp from you.)

he particularly enjoys eating you out this way. he enjoys hearing the sounds you make when he goes down on you like this and he swears you're a lot more vocal when your sight is impaired.

when you take charge, he can be an absolute brat and enjoys teasing you to push you (and himself) to the limit. you can tie him up or spank him and he would still cock an eyebrow up, as if challenging you, "oh, was that it? we both know you can do more than that, sweetie."

there have been multiple occasions where an innocent (or is it?) shower together leads to bathroom sex. he will hoist you up with his arms and lean you against the shower wall, then push his dick inside you as you wrap your limbs around him and ask him to start moving.

he is very open to any ideas you have in the bedroom, but will draw the line at exhibitionism, because, in his words, "i'm a selfish man; i want to be the only one who sees you in that state."

— XAVIER | SHEN XINGHUI

he would 100% be into mirror sex. he would take you from the back while standing in front of a full length mirror, hand cupping your jaw and guiding your head to look at your reflection in the mirror, making you watch how you come completely undone under his touch.

he is also lowkey a freak and would be into exhibitionism, but he doesn't want to get caught (or does he?). he would fuck you with your chest pressed against the glass for the whole of linkon to see (a hundred floors up), hot breaths fanning across your ears, "do you want the whole city to see you unravel under me, hm?"

he enjoys marking you up, no matter who is in power. he enjoys leaving marks in places that are subtly visible so that 1) it's within your view when you look in the mirror and hopefully it reminds you of just how much of a space you have in his heart and 2) any good-for-nothing guy who tries making a move on you will see the mark and know that you already belong to someone else.

if you're inexperienced, he will guide your hands to the places that make him feel good. he will gently lead your hand towards his lower abdomen and whisper, "try here, honey."

he likes you being rough with him. you could be aggressively biting down on him and that would probably turn him on. ("harder, my love, i can take it," he says as you push a second digit into his twitching hole.)

— ZAYNE | LI SHEN

he is not very kinky per se, but simply enjoys being close to you. he wants his hands on you at all times, and in such moments, his lips. he wants you to know what effect you have on him and how much he needs you.

he enjoys missionary a lot. zayne is a traditional lover and wants to see your face during intimate moments like these. he wants to see your every reaction to every move he makes and wants to memorise the things that make you feel good. he is very diligent and dedicated like that.

he may or may not be into roleplay, and it doesn't matter who's in charge. he enjoys it either way, and all in all wants it to be an experience that both of you enjoy. however, he does let you initiate things first because he's afraid he might overstep some (unsaid) boundaries that you might have.

we all know he enjoys having you on his lap, riding him. there have been many a time where he has had you bounce on his dick late at night at the hospital when he has late night shifts (with the doors safely locked at zayne's behest, of course). you guys also have a rocking chair in the living room for the said riding purpose.

no matter the dynamic, he would always speak in that low, breathy voice of his (very similar to a boyfriend asmr, if you will) and it always makes you weak in the knees

© BEWITCHABYSS. all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, or translate my works on any platform.

[thepixelelf]

warnings: domestic animals. tags: established relationship. christmas stuff. wc: 869

this has been in my drafts since dec 2023 and I realized it was collecting dust so I wanted to just roll up my sleeves and finish it so... here you go!

[a little thing called bad timing] Everyone knows that Seungcheol is a dog person -- you most of all. There's not a day that goes by without him turning his phone to face you with Kkuma's adorableness on the screen, sent to him by his parents. Of course, you love those pictures. Kkuma is an angel, and if you were the jealous type, you'd probably be wary of just how much Seungcheol pampers her, but luckily, you're not. In fact, you absolutely understand his behaviour. Before your family's cat passed away when you were younger, you're pretty sure you took about a million pictures of her just... existing.

That said, when Seungcheol not-so-subtly hinted that he wanted a dog last Christmas, you had to let him down easy. Your apartment at the time wasn't pet friendly, and you honestly weren't in a place financially to support a puppy with the love and attention one would deserve. Seungcheol's pout back then almost broke your heart, but he knew you were right, especially when you said you couldn't afford a cat, either, even if you wanted one.

This year, though, you moved to a new building together -- where pet allowance wasn't a choosing factor, but an added bonus -- with much more space in your apartment. And earlier this fall, you got the promotion you've been gunning for since you got your new job.

Which leads you to now. Everyone knows Seungcheol is a dog person. Everyone also knows you're a cat person. But the adorable black and white puppy in your arms has completely won you over with its yips and jumps, the way it climbs straight into your lap when you sit down, and its adorably glimmering eyes. A friend of a friend's dog had puppies, and when they asked if you knew anyone interested, you thought of your own glimmery-eyed partner. It was about time.

There are still quite a few days until Christmas, but you're sure that if Seungcheol had a choice, he'd want to meet this precious pup sooner than later. You were lucky that Seungcheol told you he had to stay later at work today, meaning you could pick up the puppy from your friend and acclimatize her to your apartment before he comes home. You've been spending the time decorating, as well, and you consider the tinsel in your hand for a second.

"Hey girl," you say, crouching down and scratching your new puppy's head. "How do you feel about wearing a little gift-wrap bow?"

She doesn't answer, of course, because she's a dog, but you chuckle at the adorable tilt of her head anyway.

"Yeah, I agree. Too cheesy."

The familiar sound of the front door getting unlocked makes you lift your head. "Oh, he's here." You lift your finger to your lips in a shush even though the puppy obviously has no idea what that means, and you scoop her into your arms.

From where you're standing in the kitchen area, the front door is just around a corner and out of sight. One more time, you give the puppy a conspiratorial grin before peeking just your head around the corner.

"Welcome home--"

"Hey, I'm back--"

Your jaw drops as you take in your boyfriend, or rather, the crate he's poorly hiding behind his legs, and the giant, shiny red bow stuck to the top of it.

Seungcheol smiles the way he always does when he comes home and sees you. "What are you doing hiding back there? C'mere, I got something for you."

You don't budge. "Is that...?"

Understanding that you aren't coming closer, Seungcheol just chuckles and brings the crate out in front of him. The front grate reveals a fluffy, orange kitten behind it.

You gasp. "You didn't!"

He shrugs. "I thought, since you've been missing your childhood cat recently, and we got this new apartment..."

"Cheol, I..."

"Did I read it wrong?" Seungcheol's eyes shine with worry and doubt. When you can't find the words to explain yourself, he continues. "I'm sorry. I should've asked, I know. Minghao knew somebody looking for homes for kittens and I just thought about how much you like Wonwoo's cats and--"

The puppy in your arms has finally had enough of hiding, and she barks, hopping to the ground. She trots over to Seungcheol to thoroughly investigate the shoes he's yet to take off.

"Oh," he says simply, eyes wide at the surprise house guest. "Oh!" Carefully, he sets the crate on the bench you have next to the door, out of reach of the excited puppy. He crouches down and pets her with both hands. "Hello," he coos. "Aren't you precious?"

Your heart warms at the sight, especially when the kitten curiously paws at the door of the crate instead of cowering away at the sound of a dog.

Seungcheol looks up at you, delighted. "Who's this?"

Just like he did when you asked him about the kitten, you shrug. "Merry Christmas?"

He must've suspected as much. His smile widens as he stands, and he holds his arm out for you to come to his side. You wrap your arms around him and giggle when he presses a hundred kisses to your cheek, while the puppy bounces in excitement at your feet.

"Seungcheoool," you whine, though to say you don't like his attention would be a total lie.

His smile widens until his eyes become your favourite crescent moons, and he locks his hands together behind you. "You know," he teases with a playful tilt of his head. "I've always dreamed of having twins."

[revelboo]

ayo, would you be able & willing to update either Rodimus or Tarn ? Am loving both of those rn!

Sure- I’ll try to get both updated today if I have time

L.G. Fuad Pt 5

Tarn x Reader

• It’s ludicrous really. Irrational. Weak. Staring up at the ceiling of his habsuite, he’s aware of the way you’re sprawled on his chassis, half out of your tangle of blankets, face against him. Almost positive you’re drooling on him. What would Megatron think? At least one of you is recharging, because he’s been kept alert by your thrashing and twisting. Your skin sometimes hot to the touch and slick with sweat, other times clammy and so cold. At some point, you’d stopped struggling. A little hand outstretched and your fingers against the mesh of his neck as you finally rest. But you survived the night. There were times he wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. Hating that he’d been almost concerned.

• Shifting as something gloriously warm slides against your spine from the back of your neck to the curve of your butt, you open your eyes but don’t move. Still too weak and just wanting to sleep. But realizing you’re sprawled on top of your guy with the lovely voice? That he’s absently petting you? You should be embarrassed, but you’re just too exhausted. Rumbling his alien gibberish at you, he touches your jaw with surprising gentleness.

• “You’re alive, then,” he mutters, cupping a hand against you and sitting up. Hearing your noise as you slide down to sprawl against his fingers, your expression uncannily Cybertronian and very obviously unhappy. “If you’re going to tag along, you’re going to learn to listen.” Tone strict, he twists and deposits you on his berth. Tugging your blanket away as you momentarily resist him. “Let’s see how clever you are,” he says as you just flop down, glaring.

• Shivering as he talks at you, attention on your blanket, it takes a moment to realize he’s repeating the same sounds. Eyes narrowing you watch him shake your blanket and say something. And he does it again. Is he trying to teach you? Not that you can hope to repeat those clicking, rumbling whirs of noise. “Blanket. That’s a blanket. I’m cold and it’s mine,” you retort knowing he can’t understand you as you point. And he hesitates. Makes his sound and shakes it again. “Blanket,” you say, refusing to attempt his alien gibberish. You’re too tired for this crap and your head is pounding.

• Optics narrowing as you point and chatter, he’s almost certain you’re saying the same thing in two different languages. Slowly enunciating he says the word in Cybertronian. Then tries to repeat your sound. “Blaaynk-it?” And your little eyes widen as you lunge to your feet only to wobble and fall back down with a grimace. Repeating the word and pointing with both hands. When he gives you the Cybertronian you just scrunch your nose at him. But finally make an attempt. A terrible, incomprehensible attempt. But still. “Good. Very good,” he says reaching to pat you on the head as you swat weakly at him and point more insistently. Ah. Draping the blanket around you, he watches you cocoon yourself. You require positive reinforcement to learn. Some kind of reward.

Previous

But I can still pretend with my memories and photographs,

I have learned to love the lie.

I wanna know what it's like to be awkward and innocent, not belligerent.

I wanna know how it feels to be useful and pertinent and have common sense.. yeah

Let me in, let me in to the club, cuz I wanna belong,

And I need to get strong, and if memory serves,

I'm addicted to words and they're useless.

[wario-speedwagon]

hmmm... so I've reblogged art very rarely of it and have like, recced music in tag games/asks, but otherwise I've never fully really talked at all about how friggin much Sound Horizon has my brain, oughh

But if that doesn't count, then hmm.... oh! I'm pretty sure I've basically never publicly talked about or reflected in reblogs how much Scooby Doo is a Permanent Important Facet of My Soul. Grew up on it since I was sentient, have played a good majority of all the video games ever made for it (and adore most of them, and I love following the humble but dedicated Night of 100 Frights speedrun community) And I want to some day watch all the movies, I've watched all the Original Series and What's New series many times over (and I NEED to watch Mystery Incorporated!!)

@floundrickthewayfarer @veggiefritterz @mcfries123 @miss-maam-ava @davidthephoneguy

TAG GAME!

What’s one interest/hobby/thing you like that you have NEVER talked about on your blog before?

It can be anything from a whole ass fandom to just a little thing that makes you smile but it CAN’T be anything that you’ve mentioned before.

I’ll go first:

This week, I can’t seem to get enough of the Album “For Emma, Forever ago” by Bon Iver. It’s just such a lovely album and great when I’m feeling overstimulated. It seems to be really heralding the late autumnal vibes for me, and I love to put it on while I’m working or tidying or drawing or out for a walk.

The lore of this album is that he got dumped so went to a cabin in the woods somewhere in Wyoming with a guitar and a shitload of alcohol and some rudimentary recording equipment and created one of the best-sounding albums I’ve heard in a while. He’s got a very distinct voice. I like Bon Iver’s other stuff but this one is my favourite right now.

What about you guys?

@lavenderfairiez @ginnyluna @groverapologist @echo-stimmingrose @demigod-shenanigans @keefessketchbook @sleepyycapybara @euryvices-deactivated20241019 @123letsgobestie @fairytalesociology @four-leafed-queer-gal @child-of-helios @green-tea217 @puzzled-pegasus @ollieisanerd @twomanyfandomshelp @lokiwiiiiiii @yoshuko-ew @frayna-of-the-hollow @via-rant @daonedaonlyskh @hadeslegacyhephgirl @siimplyapril @pjowasmy1stfandom @thetourturedwritersclub @m-for-now @inky-void @imarayoffuckingsunshine @deciduowl

[kiwriteswords]

Hiya! May i please request protective Aaron Hotchner? Thanks Ki!

To the Ends of the Earth [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: LOVE PROTECTIVE HOTCH!! Thanks for requesting!!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, reader was taken advantage of by a powerful figure, protective!Hotch, mentions of sexual assault/harassment, mentions of physical altercations, blackmail, canon-typical violence, angry Hotch, protective!Derek Morgan, Hotch's POV, Reader defending herself, established relationship, Strauss is a nightmare boss sometimes, Aaron "I must make sure justice is served" Hotchner, bureaucratic politics

Summary: When an opportunity of a lifetime turns into a nightmare for you, Aaron Horchner needs to make it right.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man given to fits of rage. His demeanor, honed by years of service and hardship, was one of controlled calm, a fortress of logic and order. But as he watched you move around the kitchen that morning, something stirred deep within him—a tumultuous blend of protectiveness and fury that he hadn't felt since the harrowing days of George Foyet.

Something was off about you. It had been for a few weeks now, ever since you returned from that high-profile assignment with the task force. Hotch remembered how proud he had felt when you were selected, the honor that lit up your eyes, the excitement that animated your every gesture. But now, the light had faded from your eyes, replaced by a haunted, distant gaze.

Your movements were mechanical, your smiles forced. You flinched at sudden movements and seemed to wrap yourself tighter in your own arms whenever the house fell too quiet. The changes were subtle, but to Hotch, they screamed of something profoundly wrong.

He watched now as you poured coffee with slightly trembling hands, the dark liquid spilling slightly over the rim of the mug. Hotch's jaw clenched. He approached you, his steps silent but purposeful.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of concern that made you pause and look up. "We need to talk."

You nodded, setting the coffee pot down a bit too quickly, liquid sloshing onto the counter. "I know," you murmured, avoiding his gaze.

Hotch reached out, gently lifting your chin so you were looking into his eyes. "What happened on that assignment?" he asked, his voice low and intense. "You've been different since you came back."

Your eyes filled with tears, and you bit your lip, a clear struggle within you. The room was thick with tension, the air heavy with unspoken fears.

"It's... it was nothing, Aaron. I—I just got overwhelmed with the work, that's all," you stammered, but Hotch's eyes darkened. He knew you. He knew when you were hiding something painful.

"Talk to me," he pressed, his hand firm yet gentle on your arm. "Please."

The floodgates opened then, and as you told him about your boss—the respected and powerful figure within the Bureau, the one with connections that reached the highest echelons of government—Hotch felt a cold fury settle in his stomach. The man had taken advantage of you, betrayed your trust in the most despicable way, and used his power to silence you.

"He told me... he told me if I said anything, it'd be the end of my career. He's friends with—"

Hotch cut you off, his voice icy, "I don't care who he's friends with."

You flinched at the steel in his voice, and he immediately softened, pulling you into a protective embrace. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I'm just so, so angry that he did this to you. That I wasn't there to protect you."

Hotch held you close, his mind racing. His instinct was to protect, to avenge, to rectify. But he was also Aaron Hotchner, a man of the law, bound by rules and protocols—even if his heart screamed to break them for your sake.

"We're going to handle this," he whispered into your hair, his voice a steady rumble of contained fury. "I promise you, I won't let him get away with this. No one hurts you and just walks away."

Hotch felt your body tense in his arms, the weight of your emotions palpable against his chest. He held you tighter, a silent promise in the embrace.

"Look at me," he urged gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his once again. In them, he saw a storm of hurt, fear, and defiance—a maelstrom that made his own heart clench with an indignant rage he seldom allowed others to see.

"I... I don't want to make this into something big, Aaron. It's... it's embarrassing," you whispered, your voice breaking with the weight of your vulnerability. "And I... I don't want to be seen as a victim. He's too powerful. What if—"

"No," Hotch interrupted firmly, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze was intense, almost piercing, as he spoke with a clarity that cut through the fog of your worries. "You are not a victim. And this... this man has committed a crime. His power doesn't protect him from the law—not from justice. Not as long as I'm here."

You searched his face, looking for the certainty that felt so elusive to you now. Finding it in his eyes, the relentless determination that defined him, a small, fragile sense of security began to weave through your trepidation.

"Aaron, I'm scared," you admitted, the truth sounding stark and raw between you. "I'm scared of the fallout, of what it means for us, for my career..."

Hotch's expression hardened, the lines of his face setting into that familiar mold of resolve that had carried him through countless challenges. "I understand your fear, and it's valid. But you're not alone in this—not now, not ever. We'll do this together and on your terms. We'll take every precaution, use every resource at our disposal. We'll fight this, and we'll win."

The certainty in his voice was more than just comforting—it was a bastion against the doubts that threatened to overwhelm you. Hotch stood, his posture rigid with controlled anger, a testament to his unwavering support.

"And if he thinks he can intimidate or silence you, he doesn't know who he's dealing with. He doesn't know who I am," Hotch added his voice a low growl of protective ferocity. It was the same tone he'd used years ago, a sound born of fury and pain from darker days. It reassured you, reminded you of the strength you had beside you.

You nodded, leaning into him, drawing strength from his presence. "What do we do now?" you asked, the practical part of you ready to take the next steps, no matter how daunting.

"We start by documenting everything. Every interaction you've had with him, anything that can support your case. We'll get statements from anyone who might have noticed anything during your assignment," Hotch planned out loud, his mind already sifting through procedures and protocols. "I'll talk to Strauss personally. We need to make sure this is handled by the book and with the utmost seriousness."

"And then?" Your voice was small, but your eyes were steady, meeting his.

"Then we make sure justice is served," Hotch stated simply. "And we ensure that this never happens to you, or anyone else, ever again."

The resolve in his voice was unwavering, the promise not just of a lover but of a protector, a leader. 

The next day, Hotch’s steps were purposeful as he approached Erin Strauss's office, his jaw set in a firm line, his thoughts a whirlwind of strategy and barely contained anger. This wasn't just another bureaucratic hurdle; it was personal, and the stakes were far higher than usual.

Knocking briskly, Hotch didn't wait for a reply before pushing the door open. Strauss looked up from her desk; her expression schooled into one of cautious neutrality.

"Agent Hotchner, what can I do for you?" Strauss asked, her tone as meticulously controlled as the rest of her demeanor.

"We need to talk about an urgent matter," Hotch began, his voice laced with a severity that made Strauss straighten slightly in her chair.

"It's about the conduct of a high-ranking official in the task force assigned to an agent on my team. There have been serious allegations made against him," Hotch stated bluntly, not one to dance around the subject.

Strauss's eyes narrowed, a flicker of concern passing over her features before she masked it with a bureaucratic calm. "I'm aware of the individual you're referring to," she said slowly. "However, you know as well as I do the complexities involved. He has significant connections, Aaron. This could become a highly volatile situation."

"That doesn't excuse his actions or absolve us of our duty to act," Hotch countered sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "We have a responsibility to protect our agents and uphold the integrity of the Bureau."

"Aaron," Strauss began, her tone firmer, more authoritative. "I understand your concerns, as well as your….personal connection to this, but we must approach this carefully. Rushing into this could backfire, not just on us but on your agent as well. We risk turning her into the subject of a very public, very messy scandal."

Hotch felt his frustration mount, the protective fury simmering beneath his cool exterior. "With all due respect, Ma'am, I'm not willing to let this go because it's complicated. If we start picking and choosing which battles to fight based on political convenience—"

"This is not about convenience, Agent Hotchner!" Strauss interrupted, her voice rising slightly for the first time. "It's about strategy. It's about ensuring we handle this in a way that ensures justice without causing unnecessary harm. I am not saying we do nothing. I'm saying we need a plan."

Hotch paused, the logical part of his brain recognizing the truth in her words, even as his emotions rebelled against the implication. "I want your assurance, then, that we will pursue this. That it won't be swept under the rug because he's 'connected.'"

"You have my word that we will take appropriate action," Strauss said, her gaze locking with Hotch's. "But I need you to be patient. Give me time to navigate this minefield. I need to talk to the Director, maybe even higher. This isn't just about the Bureau, Aaron. It's bigger than that."

Hotch's expression hardened the lines of his face set in determination. "Time is something I can give, Erin, but silence is not. If we don't see action, I will take this to every authority necessary."

Strauss met his gaze, a silent battle of wills taking place in the quiet tension of the room. Finally, she nodded. "Understood. Let's reconvene in forty-eight hours. I should have more information then."

Hotch nodded curtly, the promise of action the only thing tempering his rage as he left her office. The fight was far from over, and while the bureaucratic wheels turned slowly, his resolve was as swift and unyielding as ever. Justice, he knew, sometimes required more than just good intentions. It needed steadfast, relentless advocacy, and that was something Aaron Hotchner was all too ready to provide.

As Hotch sifted through the case files on his desk, his focus was frequently interrupted by a far more personal concern. The events involving you had left a residual tension that permeated not just his office but his every thought. It was during one of these distracted moments that he heard the familiar knock of Derek Morgan at his door.

"Come in," Hotch called, setting aside the files and steeling himself for the conversation he anticipated was about more than just BAU casework.

Derek stepped in, closing the door behind him with a seriousness that matched the gravity Hotch felt. "Hotch, I've heard about what happened. How's she holding up?" Derek's voice carried a mix of concern and protective anger.

"She's coping, Derek, but it’s far from ideal," Hotch admitted, feeling the weight of his responsibilities as both a unit chief and a partner, “She's strong, but this... this isn't something anyone should have to be strong for--what happened... it’s unacceptable."

Derek's presence was reassuring, a reminder that he wasn't alone in his resolve to address the issue. "We can't just wait for the system to grind forward. What are we doing to make sure she feels safe, not just now but in the future?" Derek asked, his stance resolute.

Leaning back in his chair, Hotch considered the proactive steps they needed to take. "Strauss is handling the investigation, but we need to tighten our own security measures. I’m thinking about revising our late-night protocols and perhaps reintroducing a buddy system."

Derek nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "And maybe we should look into a refresher on self-defense for the team. It's been a while, and it might help give everyone a bit more sense of control," he suggested.

"That’s a good point. I’ll arrange for a workshop. We should also consider implementing more discreet ways for team members to alert security. Fast and effective responses could make a big difference," Hotch said, feeling a strategic plan forming.

"Like panic buttons?" Derek proposed.

"Exactly," Hotch confirmed, his mind already running through logistics and implementations. "I'll ask Garcia to look into integrating something seamless yet powerful."

Derek’s next words struck a chord, emphasizing the culture Hotch always strived to foster within the team. "We need to make a statement, Hotch. Not just with new systems and training, but in how we handle this. We protect our own, not just out there," Derek motioned towards the world beyond their office walls, "but in here, too."

Hotch met Derek’s gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the shared commitment. "I agree completely. Let’s set up a team meeting tomorrow. We’ll discuss these changes openly and ensure everyone knows we’re serious about safeguarding our own."

As Derek left, Hotch turned his attention back to the files before him but with a renewed focus. The safety and well-being of his team, particularly you, now had a clear path forward. With Derek's support and the team's collective effort, Hotch was determined to transform this challenging situation into an opportunity to strengthen the BAU from within. The resolve in his heart was matched by the plans forming in his mind, and he felt ready to lead this crucial initiative.

The wheels of bureaucracy had finally begun to turn, albeit slowly. Hotch could feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere within the Bureau as whispers of the investigation started to circulate among the upper echelons. Strauss had been true to her word so far, initiating discreet inquiries that didn’t draw undue attention yet signaled a clear intent to address the allegations seriously.

However, just as Hotch was beginning to see a glimmer of progress, a new, more immediate crisis erupted. It was late in the evening, and you were at home with Hotch, the two of you trying to enjoy a quiet dinner together to take your minds off the ongoing turmoil. Your phone buzzed with the arrival of an email, and the change in your demeanor was immediate and alarming.

“What is it?” Hotch asked, noting the sudden pallor that washed over your face as you stared at your screen.

“It’s him,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s... he’s threatening me, Aaron.”

The words hit Hotch like a physical blow. His jaw clenched, and his eyes hardened with a fury that had been simmering just below the surface, now brought to a boiling point by this new provocation. He took the phone from your hands; his movements controlled but brisk, and read the email himself.

The message was succinct, laced with venom and arrogance. The man threatened to ruin your reputation, to make sure you would never work in law enforcement again if you continued to "drag his name through the mud." The audacity of the threat, the blatant attempt to intimidate and silence you, ignited a fierce protectiveness in Hotch.

“This ends now,” Hotch said, his voice low and dangerous. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with a sharp screech. “I won’t let him get away with this.”

You reached out, touching his arm. “Aaron, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure he understands the consequences of threatening an FBI agent,” Hotch replied, his tone leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. “He thinks he can intimidate us into silence, but he’s gravely mistaken.”

Hotch’s first call was to Strauss, informing her of the new development. His words were clipped, his anger barely contained as he explained the situation.

“Erin, he sent a threatening email. He’s trying to intimidate her into dropping the charges. This is witness tampering, and it’s unacceptable. We need to act, and we need to act now,” Hotch insisted, his demeanor unyielding.

“We will start with securing a formal censure against him. I’ll also alert the Director immediately. This is serious, Aaron, and we’ll treat it as such,” Strauss responded, her voice reflecting a new urgency.

Satisfied that the Bureau was finally mobilizing with the necessary aggression, Hotch turned his attention back to you. He could see the fear and uncertainty that the email had sparked, and he knew he had to be the rock you could lean on.

“Listen to me,” he said, taking your hands in his. “I promise you, I won’t let anything happen to you. We’re in this together, and we’re going to see it through. No one threatens you and gets away with it. Not on my watch.”

As Hotch spoke, his assurance, his unwavering support, you felt a flicker of hope. Despite the darkness of the situation, with Hotch by your side, you believed that, somehow, everything might still turn out right.

Aaron Hotchner had settled into the kind of focus that came with years of late nights and urgent cases. The dim light from his desk lamp cast long shadows across the paperwork in front of him, the numbers and details blurring into a singular narrative of crime and consequence. He was deeply immersed in a complex profile, one that needed to be finished before morning, when a faint noise caused him to look up. It was a sound out of place in the quiet of the late evening, a soft shuffling, a hesitant step.

The sight that greeted him was one he was wholly unprepared for. You were leaning heavily against the doorframe, your face visibly battered and bruised, your clothing disheveled as if from a scuffle. There was a black eye forming, swelling under the stark fluorescent light, and blood was trickling from a cut on your lip, dripping onto your collar.

For a moment, Hotch froze, his brain trying to process the scene before him. His files, his profile, the pen still poised in his hand—all of it faded into irrelevance as a surge of protective anger rose within him. He was on his feet in an instant, his chair pushed back with such force it nearly toppled.

“What did he do?!” The words burst from him, laden with fury and concern as he closed the distance between you and him in a few long strides. His hands hovered just inches from you, itching to reach out, to confirm you were real and standing there, yet hesitating out of fear of hurting you further.

Your appearance was a stark, visual slap to his system, igniting a rage in Hotch that was pure and lethal, a reminder of the days when he'd hunted the most dangerous criminals. His mind raced with the implications of your injuries—how it had happened, where, and most importantly, who was responsible.

Seeing you in such a state, so vulnerable yet defiant, was more than just a call to action. It was a personal affront, a challenge to everything he stood for, both as the unit chief of the BAU and as the man who loved you. Your safety had been compromised under his watch, and the violation of that trust was something he took as a personal failure.

“Who did this?” His voice was a low growl now, demanding an answer, needing to know whom to direct his burgeoning wrath towards. The protective barrier he always maintained—the one that kept his professional judgment clear of emotional interference—was crumbling fast, chipped away by each drop of blood he saw staining your skin.

Your response was shaky but filled with a fire that spoke volumes of your resilience. “It was him. In the locker room,” you managed to say, your voice a testament to both the physical pain you endured and the psychological battle you were fighting. “There are no cameras there. He knew that.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his eyes hardening with resolute anger. You had defended yourself, survived, and prevailed, yet the cost was written all over your face, and it was a price too steep for him to bear without retribution.

“We’re going to Strauss now,” he stated unequivocally, the protective fervor in his voice leaving no room for negotiation. “He won’t get away with this. Not now, not ever.”

He quickly grabbed a first aid kit, gently tending to your wounds with a steadiness in his hands that belied the storm of emotions inside him. Once he was sure you were stable, he offered you his arm, ready to accompany you to Strauss’s office. The walk there was tense, each step heavy with the weight of the incident and its implications.

Upon reaching Strauss’s office, Hotch knocked firmly, not waiting for an invitation to enter. Strauss looked up, her expression turning from surprise to alarm at the sight of your condition.

“Aaron, what happened?” Strauss stood immediately, her eyes wide as they took in the visible marks of the attack on you.

“She was attacked by him, in the gym locker room. There are no cameras there. It was premeditated,” Hotch explained, his voice controlled but the underlying fury unmistakable. “She defended herself and subdued him. He’s still there, unconscious and handcuffed.”

Strauss’s face hardened, her eyes now reflecting a mix of anger and determination. “I’ll call security, have them take him into custody and ensure he’s watched until he can be formally charged. This is attempted assault on a federal agent, at the very least. We’ll push for the maximum charges.”

You nodded, leaning slightly on Hotch for support, both physically and emotionally. “Thank you, Strauss. I... I defended myself, but I want this to be handled by the book. We need to make sure he never has the opportunity to hurt anyone else.”

Strauss moved around her desk, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “You did good, and I’m sorry this happened under our watch. We’ll take care of it from here. And you,” she looked at Hotch, “make sure she gets to a hospital, and then take some time off. Both of you. You need to recover from this.”

Hotch nodded, his protective instincts fully engaged as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the office. The rage still simmered within him, a fierce protectiveness that would not soon abate. But alongside it was a profound respect for your strength and resilience and a renewed commitment to stand by you, no matter what lay ahead.

That night, the world outside seemed distant, almost irrelevant as you and Aaron Hotchner returned to the sanctuary of your home. The hospital visit had been thorough but exhausting, leaving both of you drained yet relieved that nothing was critically amiss. Now, in the quiet comfort of your bathroom, Hotch took on the role of caretaker with a gentleness that made your heart swell despite the pain.

You sat on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him gather supplies—antiseptic, cotton pads, and some fresh bandages. The care with which he handled each item, his movements deliberate and focused, was a quiet testament to his concern for you. As he turned to you, his expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken promise of tenderness.

"Let's get this cleaned up," he murmured, wetting a cotton pad with antiseptic. His touch was feather-light as he dabbed at the cut on your lip, the one that had stopped bleeding but still throbbed with every movement. You flinched slightly, not from pain, but from the intimacy of the gesture, the proximity in a moment filled with so much vulnerability.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this," Hotch said quietly, the weight of his emotions making his voice thick and unusually expressive. He paused, his hands steady as he tended to your wounds, but his heart was anything but calm. "I should have—"

The words trailed off as a tide of frustration and guilt surged within him. Hotch despised the feeling of helplessness, the gnawing thought that he might have prevented your pain had he anticipated the threat more effectively. It was a violation of his deepest principles, both as a protector and a partner, to see you hurt and know he had not been there to prevent it.

He gazed at your face, noting the bruises that marred your skin, each one a stark reminder of the violence you endured. It pained him to see these tangible signs of trauma on someone he cared deeply about. The instinct to shield you from harm was ingrained in his very nature, honed through years of leading a team that faced danger daily. Yet here, in the quiet of your shared space, the reality that you had faced such danger alone was a bitter pill to swallow.

As Hotch looked into your eyes, seeing the trust and understanding there despite the shadows of the recent ordeal, he felt a renewed surge of resolve. His role was not just to protect but to support and ensure such a breach never occurred again. This incident, while closed legally, would prompt him to reevaluate his own vigilance. The emotional undercurrent of this moment, the blend of regret and protective fervor, was a powerful catalyst for Hotch. It reinforced the essential truth that his duty to protect you extended beyond the physical; it was emotional, a bond forged in mutual respect and shared trials.

The silence that followed his unfinished apology was filled with a heavy understanding. He knew you didn’t blame him—you had faced the situation with incredible resilience. But he held himself to a standard that was often unrelenting. Hotch needed to articulate this, not just for you to hear, but for him to acknowledge it openly.

“You shouldn’t have had to handle this alone,” he continued, his voice firmer, reflecting his internal commitment. “I’m here, and I will do everything in my power to ensure you never feel that isolated again. We’ll increase security protocols, and I’ll personally review them.”

His promise was not just words; it was a vow, a pledge of his ongoing commitment to your safety and well-being. Hotch knew that recovery from such events wasn’t just about physical healing—it was about restoring a sense of security and normalcy. He was prepared to lead that effort, standing by you as both your staunchest ally and your devoted partner.

"Don't," you interrupted gently, placing a hand over his. "Don't do that to yourself. You couldn’t have known. And you were there when it mattered. You’ve always been."

He looked at you, really looked, as if seeing you anew, and nodded slowly. "It's over now," he reassured you and himself more than anyone. "He's in custody, and he's not getting out anytime soon. Strauss is making sure of it."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the past weeks begin to lift ever so slightly. "It’s hard to believe it’s over," you admitted, allowing yourself to lean into his care, into the promise of safety his presence provided.

"It is, though. And we're going to make sure you're safe, that this never happens again," Hotch said, his voice firm with conviction. He finished bandaging a smaller scrape on your cheek, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if to impart comfort through his touch.

You reached up, your hand brushing against his. "Thank you, Aaron. For everything. I don’t know how I would have handled all this without you."

Hotch’s hand covered yours, his grip warm and reassuring. "You're not alone in this. You’ll never be," he said, his gaze holding yours. "We’re in this together, remember?"

As you nodded, a silence fell between you, comfortable and healing. It was the kind of silence that spoke of shared struggles and mutual support, of battles fought and won together. Hotch finally stood, helping you to your feet.

"Let’s get some rest," he suggested, his tone lightening a bit as he led you toward the bedroom. "You need to heal, and I need to make sure you stop finding trouble," he added, a hint of humor glimmering through the residual tension of the day.

You chuckled softly, leaning against him as you walked. "Deal," you replied, knowing that whatever the future held, you faced it not alone but together, stronger and more united than ever.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

[elderwisp]

Hi guys! I was tagged in a simblr love train and I was planning on putting together something but I've genuinely sat here and typed and retyped multiple times. To be quite honest, I've felt so much support this year that I feel like whatever I do or say wouldn't begin to be enough. I guess the best way to put it is there has been such an extension of kind that I hope everyone recognizes how much of an impact it does have in someone's life. In this rendition of a simblr train, I'd like to be direct on how I've been impacted by these individuals!

I wanted to start out by appreciating the lovely people who tagged me, to be included is really sweet and I appreciate that so much! ♡

@likelyamused @citylighten @slusul @living-undead @queenofthedork @southernsimmin @zynoox

Second, I wanted to highlight the individuals that help keep this community alive through countless reblogs of a variety of blogs! Without fail, I find at least one or two new blogs to follow and I'm certain everyone is incredibly grateful as well! ♡

@acuar-io @azeterna @matchalovertrait @changingplumbob @percolikes @sadraccoon061 @simswoon @moonlitfalls @hauntedtrait @notasimblr @periipheral @alientown @simarcana @venriliz

To the writing discord, guys, I'm so serious when I say each and every one of you is talented. I love reading into everyone's commentary over certain pieces and to hear the thought behind each character, scene or plot is fantastic! ♡

(there's about thirty of us LMAO)

For the CC creators that publish free custom content to keep our saves new and exciting! Whether it's hair, accessories or presets to a variety of pose packs, everything you make is amazing! ♡

@simmireen @simandy @khadijah551 @herecirmsims @surely-sims @pralinesims @atticwindowatdawn @jeffsshrimpmas @mosneakers @madebycoffee @rebouks (puttin u two here as well hehe) @nectar-cellar @rollo-rolls @kashisun

To the storytellers, artists and visionaries, I love the worlds and characters you create! ♡

@thebramblewood @warmsol @salemssimblr @swiftviolets @arcadewonder @yukikocloud @birdietrait @flovoid @flirtygh0ul @cinamun @moonwoodhollow @omgkayplays @amanda-plays @neishroom @yekkiz @kissyck @cloudellesims @rottengurlz @mikachusblog @lucidicer @gunthermunch @dejasenti99 @theplottdump (adding u in here as well hehe) @elksun @afrolatinotrait @waveport @cakepoppresent @orphyd @raiiny-bay @lilamausmaus @weirdosalike @goldenwaves @acidheaddd @polarmoon @barbieaiden @bunnithechubs @sikoi @kazuaru @softle0 @eggtooth @non-sims @catsinmugs @nekrophoria @mrsimqle @claudtrait @gvaudoiin-tricou @kuroashims @stellarfalls

There's also one person I wanted to shout out and that is @lynzishell ! Lindsey, you are one of the first people to engage in my story and since the start you have commented, reblogged (with comments!) and at times will message me in the writing discord and that's not just for me, but with a huge amount of people! and i think that dedication to hearing people out and engaging without skipping a beat says a lot of great things about your character! I am so appreciated of every single interaction and you deserve nothing but the best (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)°ᡣ𐭩 . ° . !!

[ollimus-prime]

If it is alright, may I request a TFP (Ratchet, Optimus, or Megatron) x Royalty Cybertronian reader? Like Reader is some prince/princess.

The reader's pod recently crashed onto earth, and Characters team finds them?

(Sorry if it's confusing)

From the Sky

A/N, not important: Sorry, I changed it a bit. I wasn't entirely sure how to work this out as I think the only 'royalty' within transformers were kind of the Primes? Unless I'm completely wrong. Also extra apologies for it being a bit jagged. I'm still getting used to writing again. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Megatron imprisons you, you're a politician

Words: 995

Summary: Ratchet's, Optimus Prime's, and Megatron's reaction to a senator from before the war landing on Earth

You were a high ranking official on the High Council, part of the board that named Orion Pax the next Prime. You were there when the war started, when the Decepticons were going after everyone on the High Council and terminating them.

To save your life from the countless assassinations going on around you, you were put into a stasis pod and loaded onto a ship to be sent as far away as possible.

The ship had been blown during the war, causing your stasis pod to slip through the cracks and careen through space, eventually causing you to land on Earth.

Ratchet

He’s furious when it’s discovered who you are. Yes, gaining an ally would normally be a chance for celebration, but Ratchet is bitter about how you came to be on the Earth.

He feels you’re just a coward because you ran away from the fight brewing on Cybertron. He thinks you should have stood with Optimus Prime during the beginning of the war, even in the face of all the assassinations going on. 

Knowing you not only ran away, but actually managed to survive this long without ever engaging or helping in the fight infuriates him. He can’t imagine that you, one of the supposed ‘good’ senators, ran away and left your people to fend for themselves without ever lifting a finger to help.

He’s very sarcastic and short with you, constantly egging you on about how you ‘need protecting’ since you’re ‘such a high class bot’. He has very little respect for you and how you acted at the first signs of war. 

If you ever need help with something or make an effort to assist someone else, he makes a huge deal out of it. He’ll sarcastically ask if you need help with the most menial task, giving you as hard a time as he can without Optimus intervening.

Only starts to warm up to you when you prove yourself in a fight. 

You had saved Bumblebee on a mission, ending with you getting injured instead. When you had returned for repairs, Ratchet had been surprisingly upset, and not just about the use of resources to fix you. He fusses over you like he would any of his other teammates, scolding you for not being more careful.

It takes a while, but you’ll eventually start to grow on him if you work on proving him you can be a strong member of the team.

Optimus Prime

Upon seeing you, he immediately recognized who you were. He’s apprehensive at first, but welcomes you into the team and fills you in, making sure you’re aware of the war still going on. 

He knows you fled once before at the sight of violence, and hopes to keep you with them for the fight this time around. 

He doesn’t fully trust you at first, but tries his best to be fair in his judgement as long as you don’t show any signs of going against the team.

He’ll try his best to curve the other’s feelings towards you, not wanting the team to shut you out. However, he knows that his interference only breeds deeper resentment over time, and is insistent you make your own connections with the team.

 He wants you to feel like they have your back, and makes sure you know you need to have theirs as well.

He helps you however he can as you adapt to your new life within the war and on Earth, letting you tag along with him so you can get more used to the planet without dealing with the others.

He starts to enjoy your company after a while, with his ease around you rubbing off on the others. He enjoys seeing you meld into the team and work with the others.

Despite his growing fondness, he makes sure to remain impassive and fair when around you. He doesn’t want anyone to think he favors you, or have you feel you’re being left out either. He’ll deny any feelings he has growing for as long as possible, wanting to stay impartial to any argument or problem that may come up involving you. He doesn’t always succeed.

Megatron

Megatron’s delighted when you’re brought back to him, forced to kneel at his feet on the bridge of his own ship. He can tell who you are from your fancy plating and shiny coat, immediately clocking you as one of the only senators to escape him.

He thinks it’s a cruel twist of fate that you, a former council head, is now under his imprisonment. He laments all his past grievances to you, blaming you for all that went wrong early in his life.

Megatron likes to recount the events of the war to you, mocking you for running and abandoning your people to face their deaths. He wants you to feel as stuck as he did in the pits of Kaon.

He grows to enjoy your company in a very messed up way. He’ll taunt you and threaten your life as you sit in whatever cell he stuck you in, pacing around you and forcing you to listen to every problem he had back before the war. 

He doesn’t care if you were one of the ones vying against Zeta’s system. All he sees is a corrupt politician that denied him his view of freedom and gave it to Optimus instead.

He delights in reminding you that he’s in charge now, bragging about how close he is to winning the war and instatting everything he wanted  back when he first talked to the high council

He mocks you with your current helplessness, unable to stop reminding you of the power and privilege you used to hold.

He doesn’t let anyone else visit you of course. Oure his to torment, to mock, to taunt. He likes the captive audience you’re now forced to be, made to listen to him now after dismissing him all those years ago.

[tealybean]

Thank you for tagging me, @nekrophoria!

My resolution is to learn how to pose sims 3 sims in blender so I can make cool renders. I see them and constantly wish I could do it, too. It's going to be a long process, I'm sure, but I'm more than willing to learn.

Tagging @nocturnalazure, @tau1tvec, @treason-and-plot, and @woohooligan

hey y'all, happy holidays!

new years is coming up and i had an idea (ik it's probably been done before but yk) and wanted to share.

if you're tagged, share a sims or simblr related resolution and tag others to join in! 💖

my simblr resolution is to get better at building and gameplay!

i'm tagging @neishroom @claudtrait @acuar-io @birdietrait @coyotesim 🤞🏽

hope y'all enjoy your winter and your holidays <3

[fleuriieu]

𐙚👟 . . . 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐒 ? 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ [ pt. one ]

001. SYNOPSIS ― katsuki hates your old, raggedy white jordans. 002. GENRE ― fluff ( ☁️ ) 003. LINKS ― navigation . . . masterlists . . . taglist currently playing 🎶 :: " kilby girl " - the backseat lovers

katsuki 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 your old, raggedy white jordans.

they're so worn down he could practically see the soles coming off, the laces gray and dirtied from the constant wear and tear they go through. it angers him to no end how you won't do anything about them. "when the hell are you getting new shoes? pisses me off starin' at that shit everyday." he grunts, motioning his head towards your feet.

you look up from your textbook, a confused expression shown on your face. you two were currently at a cafe studying together, as you asked him to help tutor you for the next test. what he had just said were the first words after maybe an hour or so of quiet reading. "um...one, why are you staring at my feet all the time? two, not all of us are filthy rich, dummy. and three...they're not that bad." you say, lowering your head to look at your shoes too. sure they were sort of falling apart, and yeah, maybe they looked like they've been through three world wars and a hurricane. but you could still walk in them. and that's what shoes are for, no?

"i'm not staring at them all the time!" bakugou snaps, feeling his face flush red at the accusation. "jus' happen to notice them."

you roll your eyes at his reply, picking up your book to turn the page.

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say. don't blame me if theres a new rumor going around that you have a foot fetish, though." you say, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"don't you fucking dare." bakugou glares.

the rest of the study session continues with you two bickering, forgetting about the homework and flashcards as the sun begins to set.

"ugh, see! we couldn't get anything done 'cause you kept yapping the entire time!" you groan, shutting your textbook closed and slumping down on your seat.

"i kept yapping?! you're the one who was startin' shit!" bakugou exclaims, shoving his stuff into his bag.

"was not." "were to" "was not!" "were to!" "wa--" "alright, just shut up and lets go home! gotta walk you or else ma would smack the shit out of me for letting a girl walk home alone in the dark." bakugou huffed, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

you laugh, getting up and walking out the door with him.

"oh, how kind of you. almost makes me think you actually have manners." "keep talkin' and i'll fuckin' punch you!" "...i take it back."

a/n :: this was originally gonna be just one long fic but i decided to split it up so it's easier for me (´ ∀ ` *) lmk if you'd like to be tagged in the next parts ! ♡

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ. . . [ part two ] [ part three ]

[leighsartworks216]

Suffering

Sylus x touch-averse!gn!Reader

If I had a nickel for every fic I wrote that had a white-haired, red-eyed night-dweller comforting the reader for not being able to touch them without being viscerally uncomfortable, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice

Warnings: light angst, hurt/comfort, touch aversion, touch starvation, kissing, first kiss

Word Count: 1,298

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

You trace your fingertips lightly over the angle of his cheek, the bump in his nose, the soft skin under his eyes. He's so soft, so vulnerable. His eyes are closed. His brow is relaxed. He sighs as you trace over his eyebrows.

Despite your ongoing relationship, this is the closest you've ever been to him. The most intimate touch you've ever shared. It took so much effort on your part to work yourself up to even this much, but he hasn't once faltered. If you flinch away, he lets you go. Any touch you deem him worthy of, he accepts gracefully, always doing his best to accommodate you without overwhelming you.

This overall has culminated in "hand holding", where you only link your pinkies together, and lingering near each other to the point of almost-but-not-quite touching. You know he wants to embrace you. Hold you close, bury his face in your neck and rest his hands flat on the skin of your back, legs tangled together.

Even now, there's a gap between you both. He lays on his side of the bed and you lay on yours. You touch his chin, faltering.

"I'm sorry I don't touch you the way you want me to," you whisper into the still air.

His eyes open right away. Piercing eyes that gleam in the dim light, staring into your very soul. "Don't apologize for that, kitten," he dismisses, matching the volume of your voice.

You frown, but you don't want to stop just yet. He's so soft and warm. You trace his jaw, avoiding his gaze. "Why shouldn't I? I know it's hard for you..."

"It's hard for you, too," he argues. "Why should you be the one to suffer for my sake?"

"Why do you have to suffer for mine?"

His lips quirk up slightly. You can't stop yourself from tracing the corners, where the skin bends around his lip. His eyes flicker down. You can almost feel his desire to kiss or bite your fingertips, and the effort it takes to stay still.

"For moments like this," he answers after a moment. He lets his eyes close again. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it?"

You pinch his cheek. He chuckles. "Yeah, but I'm not absent. Don't you want a partner who can give you all the attention you want?"

"No." He opens his eyes again, half-lidded and docile. "I want you."

You smooth your thumb over his cheek where you pinched him. In a small voice, you ask, "Are you sure?"

He hums. "More than anything."

You hesitantly meet his eyes. They're so full of warmth and care. There's no deception to be found at all. No hidden flicker of a grimace or eye roll or anything. You can't help the disbelief that runs its course through your head.

How many partners in the past have been upset with your lack of physical affection? How many called you cold and uncaring? How many forced you to accept their touch, even as it burned like acid on your skin? How many...?

Your first thought is how one day, he will be tired of this dance. He'll be overcome with the need to be touched, held, doted on, and you won't be able to provide. Maybe he'll be like that one ex, who caressed and kissed someone else right in front of you after you pulled your hand away. Or maybe he'll seek it out in secret, with someone far more beautiful and far more willing than you; any of the beautiful people that would do anything for him to even glance their way. Or maybe he'll just leave you right there, with scathing words that denounce you as being broken and unworthy of the attention he lauds onto you.

Your second thought, however, screams out. It shouts that he would never do that. Never would he hurt you on purpose. Never would he even lie to you like that. He's not like any of your exes, or past friends who drifted away when they couldn't lean against you while laughing about something stupid.

You brush your fingers lightly over his lips. His eyelids flutter slightly, soft breath exhaled from his nose, fanning against your knuckles. He's so beautiful. His lips are so soft and plush. His cupid's bow is so pronounced. The way his skin shifts under your fingers with the slightest pressure...

Your heart races. Your breath catches. You swallow nervously, forcing yourself not to look away from his eyes.

"Sy?"

"Hm?"

"Can... Can I kiss you?"

His eyes open just a bit wider, brows raising imperceptibly. He glances at your own lips. "You don't need to ask, sweetheart."

He waits for you to move, like always. Even if you backed out now, he wouldn't complain. He wouldn't even frown. He'd smile, say something sweet, and move on. That silent reassurance is the catalyst that convinces you to follow through.

You shift on the bed, leaning closer. You experimentally draw his lower lip down. They part with a slight smirk. But it's not condescending. It's excited.

So close, you can feel his breath against your face. His eyes are almost fully closed, heavily lidded as he watches your approach. At the lightest ghosting of your lips, he inhales sharply, waiting. Trying not to scare you away.

Finally, you kiss him.

It's so light at first. So delicate.

You kiss him again. He tastes like Gin Fizz and pomegranate. He tastes so sweet.

He sighs into your mouth, following the languid pace you've set. You trace your fingers along the underside of his jaw, from his chin up to his ear. You can feel the low sound of his enjoyment rumble against your fingertips.

And just like that, it becomes too much.

You don't want to pull away. You don't want to stop feeling his lips caressing over yours, sucking so gently on your lower lip to graze it with his teeth. It feels like heaven - tastes like heaven. You're loath to be without it so soon after you've just been introduced to how wonderful it can be.

But your body is screaming. It itches, stings, like poison ivy, tainting every inch of skin that's touched him. You try to draw it out, push through the aversion to have this one little moment with him, licking the seam of his lips, which he does not hesitate to part just for you.

Eventually, you just can't.

You pull away too abruptly, too quickly drawing your hand away from his soft skin and scooting back to your side of the bed. His eyes shoot open immediately, a crease forming between his brows in concern.

"I'm sorry," you sputter out. "I'm sorry- I didn't-"

"Calm down, sweetie. You don't need to apologize."

You grip at the smooth silk blanket, as though it will cool the fire rampaging down your fingers into your arms. You pull it up to your face to press it into your eyes, hiding your face as you fight your frustration. "I hate being like this, Sy! God, I can't even kiss my boyfriend for two seconds without wanting to rip my skin off!"

You want to cry. You want to scream! You want to run away, soak in a bath of boiling water, be sedated - anything! Anything that could take the feeling away and steal you from the embarrassment consuming you.

Your first kiss with Sylus - and it ends like this.

"Thank you."

You pull the blanket from your eyes to look at him. "What?"

He smiles. "Thank you," he repeats again, just as simply as the first time, like it makes all the sense in the world to be thanking you after you ripped yourself away from him.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"For suffering."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko 

[survivingcollegeonefanficatatime]

This was originally in the tags but I wanna recomend some spusific fics

I read fandoms I'm not in becuase either there's a really compelling idea explored in the fic, or bc it's sometimes fun to figure out what's going on bassed on fanfic.

The cool thing about fic is that it has an implied baseline knolage. You're supposed to come in with a general idea of whoes who and what happened etc, comming in without that can make for a super interesting experience.

Sometimes it's also fun to see how much you can learn about a thing bassed on the fics about it! Sometimes there are common fanfic tropes that you end up thinking are cannon or common cannon things you assume MUST be the fic.

Ive found there's ushally at least one fic that's both super interesting and super picky about cannon. One i really like is the alterbate timeline series. I read it before watching prity much any avengers movie and going back and watching the atual movies after reading was so fun. I was pointing at the TV like "oh! That's different!" Or "oh that's the same!!" I think that's the main one I can remember reading without being in the fandom but there's deffently some other fan works that I've consumed in a simalar veign.

I also adore crossovers where I only know one of the fandoms. Do you know how meny miraculous ladybug crossovers there are? Do you know how fun it is? Oh and I was hanging out in the batman tags for a while no clue who Danny phantom is but he's sure a common crossover. Prity sure i know the plot of that show now. Fun as hell. There's one owl house x supernatural crossover that I didn't finish but was certainly fun. I've never seen supernatural and somehow managed to avoid 90% of all info on it!

Sometimes there's just a really cool conspet and I'm like "oh I'm gonna read that" or "i don't know what's going on but it's fun to figure out" so yeah.

Until pretty recently, I had never read fic for a fandom I had never dipped into. It got me thinking about why people read fics for stories they've never followed. Sooo...

*not even 1 episode. None of the book. No more than the movie's trailer. etc.

[sinnabarmoth]

Tribute for the Dragon (9/18)

(A/N: Halfway done! And it is still Christmas when I am posting this so consider this a very last minute Christmas present to all who celebrate and to those who don't! Love ya!)

Pairing: Dragon|Sylus x Fem|Reader

Summary: The morning after (i'm just letting the tags speak for this one.)

Content Warnings: Adult language. Blowjobs. Cunnilingus. Horns as handlebars. P in V. Dirty talk.

Length: 4k

Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Read on AO3

When you made it back to the mountain it was incredibly late, or incredibly early depending on how you looked at it. In an hour or so the sun would start to rise. You were tired and Sylus was tired and without any word to each other you meandered back to the bedroom together and collapsed onto the mattress to go to sleep.

Sylus pulled you close, keeping your body nestled in the curve of his body. You thought maybe it’d be uncomfortable considering how much of his arms was covered in scaled armor but nothing poked into you. You weren’t caged, you were protected. Before you drifted off to sleep he pressed one more kiss to the back of your neck.

You could not say how long you had slept or how late in the day it was when you woke. You really needed to talk to Sylus about getting a clock back here so you could gauge when you were waking up.

Speaking of Sylus. You were still pressed against him. Sylus was fast asleep yet. But not all of him as you soon realized. All through the night you had not felt any part of his armored arms poking into you, but you felt something now remarkably lower.

Slowly you turned out of his arms. He slid onto his back without you keeping him anchored on his side. The sheets dipped and rose over the curves of your body, but one part was noticeably more tented. Your legs pressed together as you carefully moved the sheets back, making sure not to wake Sylus. He had changed into looser, more comfortable pants to sleep in last night when you returned so there was little to resist the stretch of his cock.

Last night had been all about your pleasure, he hadn’t taken anything from you. Then on the way home he kept whispering all the things he planned to do to you in the morning, making you a flustered mess. You were going to return the favor before he woke up and put his plan to fuck you senseless into motion.

You kept an eye on his face, making sure he didn’t wake as you slid your hand past the waist of his pants and felt his hard cock against your palm. After so long spent thinking about it you finally had it in your hands. Sylus was still asleep but he seemed to shift some as you touched him.

A smile grew on your face as you extracted his cock from his pants so you could access it easier. Gods, it looked even bigger than when you saw it in the hot spring. You moved your hand up and down, stroking him, watching as he got harder and his cock grew red with need. You were a bit worried before that with him being a dragon there’d be some big difference between your biologies but you were glad it seemed to be as every bit as normal as a human one. Bigger yes, but otherwise normal.

A bit of pre-cum built at the head and you bowed your head to lick it up. Oh gods, he even tasted good too! It was normally salty and a bit bitter, but he was not bitter. He was spiced and sweet like a salted caramel dipped in cinnamon on your tongue. You wanted to taste more.

You took the tip of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. You opened your mouth wider and bobbed your head up and down, taking him down your throat a little at time. Were you going to be able to fit all of him in your mouth? You weren’t sure. The thought made you even wetter.

You kept one hand wrapped on his cock and moved the other between your own legs. You moaned around his cock as you began teasing your clit. Your eyes fell closed as you focused on bobbing your head in time with the strokes you played across your clit.

A hand fisted into your hair and your head was forced down fully. You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat, tears welling in your eyes. “Play with fire and expect to get burned, little bird.”

It was awkward to do with his cock down your throat but you looked up through your watering vision to see Sylus awake with a hungry look in his eyes. “I feel I should thank you for such a pleasant wake up call.” he said, running his hand over the back of your head but not letting you up. “But I also know I didn’t give you permission. What should I so about that?”

You wanted to say something but quite literally could not get the words out.

He chuckled darkly, his cock twitching in your mouth. “I’ve thought of this exact image so much in my brain, actually seeing it, feeling it, is another thing entirely. Now that I have you here, what should I do? I could keep my hand fisted in your hair or use your mouth to jerk myself off or put you on your knees and hands behind your back as I fuck your throat.”

Oh gods above…

Your hand was still between your legs and as if on instinct you stared swiping at your clit again. Sylus caught the motion. “And I see you like that idea too. I’m learning so much about you, little bird.”

He pulled your head off his cock and you took in ragged breaths. You didn’t have much time to catch your breath before he pulled you back up the bed and trapped you under him. “Keep playing with yourself. I want those pretty little fingers of yours deep in your pussy. Stretch yourself out for me.” he said before claiming your lips in a bruising kiss. 

You did as he said and shoved two fingers into your cunt as he ravaged your mouth. You could feel his cock trapped between your bodies, grinding against your wrist.

“Sylus,” you murmured against his lips, “I…I’m gonna…”

“Already?” you could hear the humor in his voice. “My dear little bird, you wanted this so badly, didn’t you?”

You fucked your cunt faster. His voice alone, spoken in that deep primal growl could be enough to make you come.

“Well?” he said. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.” your pussy clenched around your fingers. You could feel your orgasm building. “Yes I did. I do!”

“Good. Now don’t stop fucking that pretty pussy of yours until you come.” He moved further down to your neck, refreshing the bruises he put there last night and adding a few new ones.

His head dipped even lower to your chest. Your nipples strained against the thin white cotton of your sleep chemise. He tweaked one nipple in his hand, pinching and pulling on the hard sensitive bud and took the other into his mouth over the fabric. He sucked hard on it, lathing it with his tongue so the fabric turned sheer. He gave it a small tug with his teeth then traded, his mouth covering your other breast while his hand teased your other nipple through the wet cotton.

“Sylus! Fuck!” your legs were shaking, so close to release. “Sylus please! Please!”

“Go ahead. Come on your hand as I play with your tits. Come for me!”

So you did and it felt like your body had broken apart, shattered into a million pieces.

Your chest was heaving, your legs twitching, your hand still stuck in your cunt as you rode out the final waves and tingles of your orgasm. Sylus grabbed the hand that was between your legs and stuck your glistening fingers in his mouth, sucking the juices off of them. His eyes closed as he savored the taste.

“You taste divine.” he muttered, giving a gentle nip to your fingertip after he was done. “I want to taste more.”

“Oh gods, give me a second to breathe.” You placed a hand on his chest to slow him down.

“Hmm,” he clearly wanted to keep going but rolled off of you so you could take a moment to catch your breath. “I suppose this can give you the chance to disrobe in case you don’t want me to tear this nightgown off of you.”

“That too.” you sighed, curling your body towards him.

He tilted your head up and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.” he said.

You laughed. “Good morning to you too.”

“Since we’re taking a moment to breathe before continuing, I feel there are a few things we should go over if we are committing to doing all of this.” he said. “There are certain things you should know and what we should try to avoid.”

“Like what and why?”

“Well, the biggest thing is biting.”

“Biting? A little too late for that, don’t you think?” you gestured to your neck.

“Yes. Honestly that was somewhat careless of me to bite you as much as I have.”

“Why?”

“Because biting while engaged in intimacy could accidentally make us mates.”

“Mates?”

“Yes. I suppose it is the closest thing to a human wedding you could get in the dragon world. Granted, biting alone cannot make us mates, there is a whole ritual for it that we’d have to engage in, vows that evoke magic to complete it all. But I do not know how many of the rules of dragons apply to me, so best to try and minimalize it as best we can. Once a bond is made, it cannot be undone.”

“Alright. And what happens if we do accidentally become mates? What does that mean?”

“Mating attunes the couple together on an emotional and physical level.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning wherever you would be, I would feel a pull towards you. Your pain is my pain, and your pleasure is my pleasure. It also opens the channel for breeding.”

You pressed your legs together, glad he wouldn’t be able to tell you were slightly excited by the idea of him breeding you. “When you say opens the channel…”

“Dragons can only breed when they are mated. So as long as we are not mates there should be no worry about you becoming pregnant.”

That was a relief. As much as the idea of him fucking you with intent to get you pregnant did turn you on, you knew you did not want a child yet.

“So…what are we going to do now?” you asked.

“Well, I only got a small taste of your arousal and I want to make a meal out of it. So you had better take off that nightgown now before I rip it off.”

You nodded, quickly shuffling around so you could pull the gown off over your head. Sylus had pushed his pants the rest of the way off. His eyes roamed over your naked form, taking in every dip and curve. “By the hells you’re exquisite.” he dragged a claw down your chest to your navel, watching as goosebumps erupted along your skin.

He got to your legs and pulled your knees apart. His tongue ran across to wet his lips as he stared at your cunt. “You are soaked, little bird.” He ran his mouth across your thigh, sucking bruises onto the soft supple skin. “And so warm.”

“Sylus…” you fisted your hands in the sheets.

“And so sweet.” he liked a stripe straight up your cunt to your clit.

Your head fell back against the pillows as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue, working over the bundle of nerves mercilessly. He sucked hard on it and your hips jumped to meet his touch. He placed a hand on your abdomen to keep you still as he continued to assault your clit until your legs were shaking.

“You’ve made such a mess,” he whispered, giving your clit a final kiss before he moved down to your pussy. “So much arousal is leaking out of this pussy. You want to give me a feast, don’t you?”

“Yes, please Sylus!”

“Then I will enjoy my meal with vigor.” he dove between your legs, lapping up the arousal that leaked out of you.

He groaned, sending tiny vibrations up your spine. He wouldn’t stop talking, even with his mouth preoccupied. It was hard to hear muffled between your legs but you thought you picked out a few short words. “Taste…drown in…fuck…every day…”

His tongue plunged into your cunt and you tried to close your legs. He grabbed one thigh with his hand and the other was grabbed by his tail. He pulled your legs wide, keeping you spread open as far as you could go. “None of that.” he muttered, “I want easy access to my breakfast.”

He went back to devouring you. The sounds his mouth made against you were obscene and not at all quiet. If there was any doubt to how wet you were it was gone. If anyone else had been in this mountain they would have been able to hear the wet slurping sounds that accompanied your moans. And Sylus was not stopping!

You could feel yourself moving towards another orgasm at lightning speeds. Your body was restless, unable to writhe with him pinning you down. All you had were your hands. They went from fisting the sheets to rubbing your breasts. Until that is you reached for the man between your legs. Your intent was to grab his hair but touched his horns instead.

You grabbed his horns, pulling him closer so he couldn’t pull back even a little from your cunt.

The moment you did he moaned, his eyes opening and staring straight at you from between your legs. His pupils were blown wide and you remembered what he said before about his horns being sensitive. A smile grew on your face and you gripped them harder. He moaned again.

You couldn’t really see much past Sylus’s hulking frame but you were sure you felt the bed moving further down. No doubt Sylus grinding his red hot cock against the mattress. Fuck you wanted on it! Wanted to be what he was rutting into instead. But you could tell Sylus wasn’t letting you go anywhere until you came on his face.

Your words were replaced with sharp panted moans as you felt your climax edging closer. Sylus was not letting you drop his gaze and it was that intense eye contact as he drank you down, body and soul, that made you tip over the edge. Your head snapped back against the pillows, moaning aloud to the ceiling as you came all over his face. Your only tether to reality was the grip you kept around his horns as your ground your cunt against him.

“Fuck…” you whimpered. Every little touch made your breath hitch.

Sylus released your legs at last but you didn’t even have the energy to close them.

“Have I worn you out already?” he asked, tracing soothing patterns along your thighs.

Your eyes cracked open again. “Not yet.” you shuffled onto your knees despite the pleasant ache in your body. “Not until I get to fuck you properly.”

“You are a wonder.” he kissed you and you could taste yourself potently on his tongue. “And since you like being in charge, I’ll let you take the lead this time. If you want to fuck me, then fuck yourself on me. I want to see you bouncing on my cock.”

“Oh gods…” Such filthy words.

“If there are any gods they’re not looking down on us, little bird. They don’t have my permission to see or hear you in this moment. This is all mine.” he grabbed you flipped you over so you were on top of him. “Now fuck me.”

This man, this dragon, was going to be the death of you. You would not survive hearing him say such things every day.

You shuffled back a bit so you were straddled over his hips. His cock was between you, still hard and begging to be touched.

You took him in your hand and pressed the head of his dick to your clit, teasing it again. Sylus watched your movements, breathing heavily as you smeared his pre-cum over your clit. Then you lifted your hips up, notched him at the entrance of your cunt, and sunk down.

It took some time, even after how much prep had gone into stretching you out you still needed to shimmy yourself down the entire length of it a bit at a time. Rocking your hips up and down, taking more inside yourself with every shallow thrust. Fuck he was so big! He was stretching you out like you had never been before. There was a slight burn but it only added to how good you were feeling finally having him inside of you.

You finally made it down fully, your hips flush to his as he laid fully sheathed inside you. You let out a shuddering breath as you let yourself just feel him in you. Fuck you felt so full! Your hands were on either side of the gem in his chest, keeping yourself balanced.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Sylus panted, “Didn’t even know if I was going to be able to fit in you for a moment there.”

“Barely.” you took in a shaky breath. “Why did we not do this sooner?”

“Because you got all embarrassed about it and said that the one time you masturbated in front of me that it was an anomaly that would not be repeated. So much for that, huh?”

“You really want to be a brat about it while I’m sitting on your cock?”

“I think the fact that you are sitting on my cock means that I do get to tease you about it. You wouldn’t even let me see you naked and now here you are.”

“If you’re going to be a dick I can just get off and take care of this myself.”

“Now why would you do that when you said just a minute before that you were not done until you got to fuck me properly?”

You smacked his chest. “You are such an ass!”

“That’s hardly a way to talk to your master.” he had on a wide shit-eating smile. “Now, do as your master says and ride my cock like I know you want to.”

You bit back a colorful response. Pleasure first. Wringing his ass for being a cocky bastard later.

You lifted your hips up till just the tip was in you then slid back down. Your body was getting used to the size of him, opening up a little more with each thrust. The friction went from burning to so sweet in no time at all. It felt as if he had been made to fit perfectly in you.

Your thrusts got faster and shallower as you began chasing your pleasure in earnest. Fuck you felt so full!

“That’s it.” Sylus moaned, holding you by the hips, helping to keep you moving. “You feel so good wrapped around me. Don’t stop.”

You didn’t think you could even if you wanted to. Your body was working off of instinct. Chasing pleasure and release, recklessly and without any inhibitions. All your body new was harder, faster, more. More! More! More!

You grabbed your breasts, playing with them as you rutted against Sylus.

“Do what you need to make yourself feel good.” Sylus kneaded your ass. “You look beautiful like this. Wild and desperate with lust. Moaning like a bitch in heat.”

Your pussy clenched around him. “Do you like that? Like when I point out how shameless you are? How do you think your little village friends would feel about you, knowing that you’re bouncing on a dragon’s cock like this?”

“Sylus, please…” you fell forward, catching yourself on his shoulders. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“So informal. Am I not your master?” he said, his voice a low growl. “I can tell you’re close. If you want me to help you come you need to ask.”

“Sy--” you got a warning hit to your ass when you tried to say his name. It only ignited you more. You were tempted to keep saying Sylus instead just to get him to spank you more.

“Master,” you said, your voice slurring with pleasure, “Will you please help me come? I want to come on your cock. Please!”

“That’s better.” he grabbed you firmly and started fucking up into you. “Oh hells, I’m gonna come. Want me to come with you?”

“Yes! Yes! Please master!” you whined. “I want you to come with me! I want you come inside me!”

“Oh fuck!” his claws dug into your flesh. If he had stabbed into you, you hadn’t noticed. You were so close! So fucking close!

“Kiss me!” you struggled to form words. “Please!”

Sylus claimed your lips in a searing kiss. Your attention was elsewhere so it was slightly awkward, a little sloppy. But damn it did it just feel so good to kiss him. Your hands wove into his hair as you moaned into his mouth.

“Sylus!” Out of your mouth came a sharp scream of pleasure that had tears rolling down your face. It felt like your body had been struck by a lightning bolt as you came with Sylus. Your cunt clamped down hard around him, milking ever drop of his cum out of his cock.

He was still fucking up into you as he came, slowing down and letting you ride out the high for as long as possible. You were breathing hard, little whines and moans still escaping your throat as you danced between pleasure and reality.

You melted against Sylus, your body going lax as the orgasm faded away and all that was left were two sweaty bodies still mingled together. Sylus had released your hips and crossed his arms over your back, holding you close to him as you caught your breath.

“Still with me?” he asked, his voice gentler now.

“Physically or mentally? Cause I’m not sure which is which right now.” you nuzzled your nose against his neck.

“Wasn’t too rough? Didn’t hurt you?”

“No. It was good. Really good.” you felt like going back to sleep. “Are you as tired as I am?”

“No, but I get the feeling you don’t have as much stamina as me.” he smoothed out your hair. “Lasted longer than I thought you would though.”

“Yay…” you shifted on top of him. His soft cock still wedged in your aching pussy. “Can we…?”

“Yeah. Here we go, I’m gonna pull out now.” he pulled you off him and a shiver ran up your spine without him inside you anymore. You could feel the warmth of his cum spill out of you.

“Gonna need to clean the sheets now.”

“Don’t worry about that right now. Relax, you’re going to feel the after effects of this soon, so rest now.”

“Yeah…” you looked up into his red eyes and smiled. “Can I have another kiss?”

“You can have whatever you want, my little bird.” he kissed you sweetly. “Anything for you.”