#and like sure he was only targetting older women

[thewardenisonthecase]

There's so many things in DAO and DA2 that are so horrific to see as a woman and it's so unintentional

[miley1442111]

safe- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)

summary: you become an unsubs target

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body. 

What happened? 

You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?

You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica. 

“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”

You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms. 

“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?” 

You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”

“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered. 

“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”

“Always.”

You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?

God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there. 

Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack. 

“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”

“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again. 

“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong. 

“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off. 

“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen. 

“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride. 

“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen. 

A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you. 

You didn’t pick up.

He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?

No answer again.

“Sir-”

“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?

“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer. 

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked. 

He could deal with them later. 

“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.

“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”

“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”

“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”

“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.

Where was Aaron? 

 “Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you. 

“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge. 

You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? Was Aaron ok? 

You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.

“I’m sorry too.” 

He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”

His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered.  

“I love you too.”

After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office. 

“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you. 

“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.

“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him. 

“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”

“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part. 

“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.

“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.

"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.

"Honey-"

"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."

Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."

"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.

"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.

"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.

"I'm so glad I'm here too."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're married?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.

`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.

"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.

The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.

All was well.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :)

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

need some more information on hunter x hunter in order to write some lore accurate fanfiction + good theories? well look at that, i'm right here.

canon details about hxh that makes writing and theories IMMENSELY easier.

kurapika seems to have a soft spot for younger children, as he doesn't target any of the younger princes in the succession war (in the manga). not only that, but when he held woble (an infant) for the first time, his eyes softened.

chrollo doesn't seem to enjoy hurting women or children. the only time in the story (kurta clan excluded, we never actually see it happen + it was for a job) where chrollo harms a woman is when he steals neon's nen ability. however, he had even made sure to catch her when she fell, taking care of her at least a little bit. chrollo didn't cause any harm to gon and killua even though it could have been convenient to. plus, during his match against hisoka at heavens arena, chrollo does not control or harm any of the female spectators + the female commentator.

chrollo fools the phantom troupe a lot. in chapter 90, nobunaga states “chrollo/danchou did it again!” when phinks tells nobunaga that chrollo had fooled nobunaga. so chrollo has played trickster a few times within the troupe.

meteor city residents live in extremely small cottage-like “houses” made of wood, although much of the houses have patches. however, many people tend to place cloth over their houses, possibly to keep out rain or snow. outside of many houses in meteor city, older people sit on mats and rugs, perhaps selling something.

the most extravagant and cleanest building in meteor city is the church, which also has numerous sun symbols and signs, implying that chrollo might have gotten the sun and moon ability that he fought hisoka with from the pastor of the church (father lisores).

hisoka seems obsessive over cleanliness and always being clean. he has a total of 6 mobage cards where he is showering, and he showers a total of 4 times in the series.

chrollo is implied to have been groomed as a child by the meteor city elders. the elders imply that chrollo is the key to solving all of their problems when he is an ELEVEN YEAR OLD CHILD because of how intelligent chrollo is. phinks makes a subtle note of this when the troupe goes to meteor city to fight the chimera ants, saying that “they still don’t know what they’re doing” (about the city elders). and in a sad way, they succeeded in their grooming, because chrollo did essentially solve their child k!dnapping problem and decreased much of the crime rate in meteor city.

chrollo is the oldest of his group with sarasa, pakunoda, sheila, phinks, feitan, franklin, and shalnark (therefore debunking the “feitan is 28” myth) due to his backstory, where sheila says that “you're the oldest out of all of us, and yet everyone treats you like the ‘younger brother'”, which chrollo is visibly disappointed at.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (4/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The boy's death had devastated her.

Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.

Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.

Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?

That a part of him lived inside her?

She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.

The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.

She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.

Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?

With your second mummy?

She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.

However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.

She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.

She realised that she had never even kissed a man.

She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.

She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.

She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.

"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."

She saw him freeze, looking ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.

His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.

He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.

This was her chance.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.

"What do you want?"

She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.

He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.

She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

Oh gods.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.

He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.

Good.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.

He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."

There it is.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.

"It will."

Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.

What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?

Were they not partly true?

Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.

It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.

She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.

"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"

She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.

Serve me well and I will reward you.

When the time comes.

She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.

She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.

Is this how it should be?

Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?

"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.

He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.

Shame overwhelmed her.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.

A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

She moaned.

However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.

Why did it feel like this?

Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?

"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.

His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.

She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

Good gods.

She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.

Lick her?

What did he mean by that?

What purpose did it serve?

"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.

She had nowhere to run.

"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.

Let me take care of this.

He knew.

He knew what she craved.

She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.

His tongue.

She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

He was so close.

The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.

If only you were my little sister.

I want this, she thought.

I want to be what you want me to be.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.

She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.

She didn't know.

She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.

He wasn't there for her.

He hadn't protected her.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.

For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.

"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.

She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.

One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.

She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.

She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.

She fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.

Her bedding was soaked with his scent.

She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.

It had never happened.

As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.

"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.

"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.

When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.

"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.

She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.

"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.

They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.

Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.

So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.

She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.

"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.

She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.

She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.

"Sōvēs!"

She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.

She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.

Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.

In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.

She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.

She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.

It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.

She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.

What she needed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Shelter.

This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.

She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.

Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.

But not for her.

She was of no value to either of them.

As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.

He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.

She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.

"Come here."

She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.

She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.

"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.

Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.

"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.

"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.

However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.

If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn't she feel the need to run away?

When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.

She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.

"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.

"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.

"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.

"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.

Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.

She knew the night would be difficult.

Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.

Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.

They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.

If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.

"I'm cold." She said.

Silence.

A long one.

"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.

Targaryens and their fucking pride.

She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"You have no shame."

"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.

He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.

They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.

"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.

"Relief."

She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.

Relief.

"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.

"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.

Nothing she did mattered – not really.

She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.

She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.

She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.

She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.

It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.

She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.

He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.

"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."

She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.

She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.

"I will protect you."

[yourheart-inmyhands]

invades ur inbox again............ ur post abt the baby not being the yans inspired me, what if reader was pregnant but it was their baby ? :3

listen, i don't want kids, but there are some fictional men out there that give me baby fever like never before </3

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, mentions of reader being pregnant and giving birth, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Pantalone would be thrilled but also a bit hesitant to have a kid. His position as a Harbinger makes him a high value target and thus you by association. He does his best, buying out all the best doctors he can find across Teyvat to watch over your pregnancy and ensure there are no complications. Anything you need or crave or ask for, he’ll have for you.

Pantalone sighed in relief as he entered the room, you had been quite restless these past few days, feet swelling to the point you couldn’t walk, but you had finally settled enough to lay down for a nap. The stress of pregnancy was tough on anyone and he did his best to help soothe the pains, help fulfill every craving, and reassure every worry. Everything he could do to help make things a little easier on you he wasted no time in completing. When it came for check ups and any other medical care, he made sure the best of the best were always readily available for you. He wanted to ensure nothing happened to you or your child, as not only was that the heir to his fortune, but a part of him growing in you. This child would tie you to him forever.

Yandere!Diluc while keeping calm on the outside would be absolutely freaking out on the inside. He doesn’t know how to be a father, he couldn’t even be a good brother! He’ll spend his free time reading up on first time parenting books, paying closer attention to the mothers who pass by with their kids as he tries to pick up on some subtle parenting tricks.

Diluc sighed as he absentmindedly wiped at the same glass he had been cleaning for the past twenty minutes. Just outside the tavern, right in view were a mother and her child. The child was throwing and fit in the middle of the walkway and the mother was trying to calm him. The noise wasn’t a problem, the walls of the tavern were pretty thick, it was just the thought that Diluc would be in that position one day soon. His own child pitching a fit over some small, ridiculous thing while he flounders about, desperately trying to find any solution to the incessant crying. Thinking back to his beloved, who was currently at home under strict bed rest orders, and he longed to see them. To lay beside them in bed, retelling all the bizarre things he’d seen out the window of the tavern today, discussing what kinds of parents they wanted to be and how they would handle it.

Yandere!Zhongli is thrilled, inside and out, to be a father. While he’s lived for many years and has been a role model to many, he’s never had a proper child of his own. He of course maintains a calm and level head, but you’ll see him visiting the shops in town more often, chatting with the older women about his soon-to-be child and asking advice.

Zhongli smiled at the older woman as he picked a few flower arrangements for you, being stuck inside the house all day could be so drab, he hoped to brighten your day up even if just a little. It was no secret around town anymore that the handsome gentleman was a father-in-waiting, and with everything he talked about with the lovely women who helped their husbands run stalls for many years, it was clear he had a good grasp on what to do. Zhongli was more than just an esteemed gentleman with stunning looks, he was an intelligent and strong partner, the perfect type to raise a child with. His darling boss Hu Tao even offered to give him reduced shifts for a few months when it got close to birth and after so that he could be there to help with the first few months.

[crljhnn]

Maybe It's Enough

Pairing: Robin Buckley x fem!Reader

Summary: Robin thinks you don't like her back, so she encourages Steve to take you out on a date. You think Robin doesn't like you back, so you agree to let Steve take you out on a date.

No use of y/n; lesbian reader

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: slight hints of / implied homophobia

[also posted on AO3]

The first time you actively realized that you were different was when you were 12.

You were lying on your bedroom floor, surrounded by your friends, looking through a magazine targeted towards young teenage girls.

You vividly remember your friends going on and on, gushing about the male actors and musicians featured in the newest edition, who were striking suggestive poses while smirking directly at the camera. You, on the other hand, only felt weak in the knees if the article displayed their girlfriends or female co-stars as well.

You grew up pretty sheltered, so it wasn't until a few nights later that you found out that women who were attracted to other women existed.

You were sneaking down the stairs to get yourself a bottle of water when you overheard your mother gossiping on the phone about a church friend's daughter, who was spending an awful amount of time with that new girl, Susan. Apparently, there have been rumors that she has been bringing shame upon her family and disgracing the church for quite a while.

Hearing the disgust in your mother's voice awoke a discomfort within you about your own emotions. You found yourself going back and forth between entertaining your suspicions and reassuring yourself that you simply hadn't met the right guy yet (that's at least what your older sister told you when you confided in her).

This maybe, maybe not spiel ended when you met Robin in your shared math class during your freshman year. She was somewhat angsty and awkward, and you were instantly in love. You didn't manage to muster up the courage to speak to her during that school year, though.

In your sophomore year, you were almost sure that Robin was gay. You caught her looking dreamingly at a little too many female classmates, a little too often. Also, from what you heard, she never had a boyfriend or openly expressed interest in any of the boys.

At the end of junior year, you were almost certain that Robin was into you. The staring was now reserved solely for you, and she constantly sat close, but never directly next to you. She also always started that cute nervous ramble when you tried to talk to her, and then always found a way to prematurely end the conversation.

"Sorry, I think I left my water bottle in the cafeteria. Bye!"

When you found out that Robin started working at Scoobs, you were tempted to go and visit her; this way, she was forced to talk to you. You nearly chickened out in the parking lot and had to hype yourself up for nearly half an hour just to be met with Steve "the Hair" Harrington when you got up to the counter.

You took that as a sign not to show up at Scoops again. Plus, now that you thought about it, what were you even supposed to talk about? The ice cream flavor?

That's why you were thankful when she started at the local video store. Movies were definitely something you could talk about for hours.

It wasn't as easy as you thought, though. Every time you came by, she was either busy organizing a section on the complete opposite end of the store or she was in the back. When you tried talking to her, she would always redirect you to Steve.

"I'm kind of busy right now, but I'm sure Steve can help you with whatever movie you are looking for. He is right over there."

Always rushed and always without looking at you.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Robin actually despised you, and you completely misinterpreted her behavior. She probably thought you were some kind of stalker, keen on disrupting her at work.

---

"I swear she likes you, dingus! She is here all the time." Robin has been trying to convince Steve that you were head over heels in love with him for the last 10 minutes.

He was exasperated, standing in his typical mom stance with one hand on his hip. "She does not! Family Video is like the only video store anywhere close; that's why she comes here a lot."

"Well, she came to Scoops as well, when we were still working there!"

Steve probably doesn't even remember you showing up at their old job, but Robin does. She remembers how pretty you looked, how your outfit complimented your figure, and how your hair perfectly framed your face. She remembers it being a lot more nerve-racking than seeing you in school. This was a new environment, a whole new situation. She couldn't look at you from a desk behind you, hiding behind a book, if you decided to glance in her direction.

Before she was able to properly think about it, she had already headed to the back, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Wow, now I can't deny it anymore! It's not like half of Hawkins has been there at least once, and by your logic, she could be into you as well."

Robin wishes, with every cell in her body, that even the slightest glimmer of truth could lie in this statement. But it's not true. It couldn't be. And she has to remind herself of that. That way, it won't hurt as much when you end up with Steve or some other boy.

"Then why does she only ever talk to you, huh?"

"Because you run to the back as soon as she gets anywhere close to you!"

"And I'm doing both of you a favor. She comes here to talk to you and then gets too nervous to actually pull through with it. That's why she comes up to me."

"I think you are overthinking it."

And Robin definitely is, but at this point, she had already talked herself way too far into it.

"Trust me. I'm a girl. I should know stuff like that better than you."

"Yeah, 'cause you know so well what it's like to crush on a guy?"

"No, but I know what it's like to be a girl with a crush. Just ask her out."

Please don't.

"You sure?"

No

"Yes."

So that's exactly what Steve did.

---

The next time you visit the store, he makes sure to put on his especially charming smile, being right by your side as soon as you enter. He goes the full nine yards. Compliments your eyes, your outfit, carries the movies you picked out to the counter. After he finishes the process of checking them out, he is ready to make his final move. With whatever he has left of the famous Harrington charm, he asks you if you'd like to go out with him this weekend.

"Oh, I don't know. I'm really busy, you know, with school and everything. Sorry."

Rejection.

Steve only takes a second to recover. Even though Robin was sure of your attraction to him, he was still kind of expecting this. Regardless, Steve feels the urge to explain himself.

"No, it's totally fine. Really! I honestly wouldn't even have assumed that you were into me, but Robin was really insistent, so I thought I'd try my luck. No hard feelings."

"Robin told you to ask me out?"

"Yeah, why?"

That was the final nail in the coffin. Of course, she didn't like you. Why else would she try to set you up with her best friend? All the "signs" you saw were probably spun up by your imagination, caused by wishful thinking. Your own feelings must have clouded your judgment. You're embarrassed and sad. Maybe it is stupid and naive to expect to find a girl in a small town like Hawkins who is not only your type and assumably gay but also likes you back.

Maybe you should go on a date with Steve.

He really seemed like a changed man. He was unarguably attractive, even you could admit that. He was kind and, most importantly, interested in you. Maybe that's enough.

Maybe you were also a tiny bit driven by selfishness. Maybe you wanted to make yourself feel a bit better about receiving the confirmation that the girl you had been pining for for years simply wasn't into you.

For a moment, you felt bad for Steve. It would be unfair to lead him on like that, but let's be honest. From what you heard, that guy goes on three dates a week. How likely is it that he would go into this date with the expectation of finding his one true love?

"Oh, no, that's not what I meant. I would actually really like to go out with you. I really am busy, you know, with all the exams coming up."

Lies, there was nothing to study for the next two weeks. The only plan you currently had for this weekend was to cry over Robin.

"But I am free the weekend after, if that works for you?" You played that off nicely, right?

It seemed like you did because Steve's face lit up.

„Great, if you give me your number, I could just call you to talk about the specifics.“

„Yeah sure.“

While you focus on writing down your number on the piece of paper Steve slips you, he turns around to give Robin a thumbs up. Even though she tried to look just as happy as he did, anyone paying even a little attention could have seen that she was not okay. Her face scrunched up in a painful smile. Fortunately for her, Steve was way too distracted by the euphoric feeling of scoring a date to recognize his best friend's torment.

---

"You know, I was skeptical at first because I never felt that romantic vibe with her. She never seemed interested in me in that way. But now I'm so happy I asked her out. Like, she's so effortlessly beautiful and funny, and she is also really smart, you know?"

Yeah, Robin knows. She knew all this about you better than anyone else. Steve didn't even know yet how beautiful, funny, and smart you really are. But Robin had no doubt he was going to find out soon.

And she was going to die.

Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic, but it will definitely feel like it.

"I could even imagine her being, like, the one, you know. I think what I've been doing wrong is going on dates with women I don't even know or with women who only know me from my "King Steve" days. They all have these weird expectations about how I'm supposed to act. But I got to know her over the last few months. And I know I'm actually able to hold a conversation with her, one that's not about high school."

Robin feels like she is going to throw up. Steve acted like he always did when he was interested in a girl: idealizing her and already imagining their house with a white-picked fence and their six little nuggets. She knew she would get over it eventually, even if you actually ended up together, but your first real crush will always hold a special place, especially your first lesbian crush. And Steve just couldn't shut up.

"Do you have an idea where I could take her? We were talking on the phone last night, and she told me to just come up with something. I really don't want to mess this up right at the beginning by picking the wrong thing."

Robin never wished to be an attractive teenage boy as much as she did at that moment. She wanted late-night phone calls with you, and she wanted the trouble of not knowing where to take you on a date.

She had also thought about going on a date with you for years, so yes, she definitely had an idea.

For a second, she considered not telling Steve to be selfish and not letting him live out the fantasy that had been keeping her company for the last two years. This urge, however, was overpowered by her need to make you happy. That's what she wanted most—for you to be happy and have a good time. So she told Steve all about your favorite music genre and to watch out for any small bands giving concerts somewhat close.

---

Meanwhile, you were still grieving this whole Robin disaster. How the hell did your regular visits to the video store, intending to talk to Robin, score you a date with her best friend?

Yet, you found yourself genuinely looking forward to your plans with Steve. His idea of driving a few towns over where a small band you never heard of, though the flyer suggested that the music would fit your taste to a T, was giving one of their first concerts, which was actually the most fun date you could imagine.

Even if you didn't like him romantically, you would still have a good time. And you thought it was admirable that he would plan something that fits your taste so well. Now that you think about it, you don't remember ever discussing your music taste or your fable for small underground bands with him. You don't know how he knew; perhaps you mentioned it casually, or maybe it was just a lucky guess.

---

Steve turns up at 5 p.m. sharp. He is standing in front of your door, with a bouquet of flowers, in an outfit you know he will stand out in at the rather shady bar the band is playing at.

The one-hour-long drive ends up being surprisingly entertaining, and for the first time in your life, you kind of wish to be straight. You often wished to not be gay, to "be normal," or to fit in, but never before did you specifically wish to be into men. But right now, you do. Because Steve is kind and charming and attentive and funny while also being insanely attractive, and you just wish you could fall for him. Because you know that would be the easiest thing to do if you were into men.

But you are not.

And now you are driving back home, and you are sitting next to Steve in his car while he rants about how positively surprised he was by the band and how they are definitely one of his favorites now, and you just feel bad. He clearly had a good time, and he hinted at his interest in you and a second date multiple times over the evening. You just know that you have to come clean.

After your sister's reaction, you never considered coming out to anyone in Hawkins again, well, except Robin, but definitely not to "King Steve." You honestly don't even know why, but somehow you really want to tell him. Perhaps you're driven by guilt; after all, you had a great time, and the thought of rejecting him with a shitty excuse feels wrong. Moreover, continuing to lead him on would be worse.

Steve turned out to be a decent guy, right? You dearly hope that you are not making a horrible, irreversible mistake by coming out to him.

"I really had a good time tonight."

"Yeah? Me too. I was thinking we could repeat this, whe-"

His enthusiasm about going out with you again made you feel sick.

"Steve"

His face falls when he detects your tone, realizing you are about to reject him.

"Oh."

"Look, I really had a great time, and you are a great guy, but I'm actually not into boys. I'm sorry."

That's it. You put your cards on the table, full vulnerability. There is no way to misunderstand what you just said.

Or so you thought.

"I understand. You want a man, someone who will be able to take care of you. Not some boy who didn't even get into college. I know my future isn't looking the best right now. I'm probably gonna be stuck working in a video store for minimum wage till I retire. But-"

"No, Steve, what? What I was trying to say was that I'm a lesbian. I like girls. I'm sorry for leading you on."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

"But why did you agree to go on a date with me then?"

Did you really want to tell him the whole truth? If you told him about your crush, you have no doubt that it would reach the girl of your affection herself, and you really didn't need that. However, being so open about something you hardly ever told anyone, and him not reacting outright badly, kind of made you want to tell him about your feelings for his coworker as well. You already told him your biggest secret; what's one more?

"When you said that Robin told you to ask me out... man, this is so embarrassing to say out loud. I just kind of like her, like really like her, and her encouraging you to date me kind of made it clear that she does not feel the same. And I just thought, I don't know, the rejection kind of stung, and feeling wanted, especially by someone like you, felt kind of nice. I didn't think it would go as well as it did, considering your dating history. Sorry, was that mean? You know what I'm trying to say. But you are great, and now I feel shitty, not just for being indirectly rejected but also for using you as a distraction and ego push. I'm sorry."

You're too scared to look at Steve. Completely focused on looking anywhere but him while your brain keeps listing reasons why you are a horrible person.

At the same time, Steve's thoughts are running a thousand miles per hour. He's disappointed, sure. He likes you and, until a second ago, really hoped to build a relationship with you. Now, however, more present was the goal of setting you up with Robin. This was perfect. All her rants about never finding another gay person in Hawkins he had to listen to, and now he not only found someone who was gay, he found someone who already liked his best friend. Or you found him.

Now the question emerged: What's the best way to go about this? His first instinct was to tell you to just ask Robin out, but by doing that, he was basically outing her, so maybe not the best idea. Additionally, he didn't even know if Robin liked you back. That's it. Before he does anything, he should try to find out if your feelings are reciprocated. Or if Robin is at least interested in getting to know you romantically.

With this plan in mind, he first assures you that he has absolutely no problem with gay people, even if he is a bit clumsy at finding the right words to express it, and then drops you off at home. He is about to have a long night, planning to figure out the best way to unsuspiciously find out if Robin likes you back and how to hype you up in case she isn't sure yet.

---

The next day, he shows up at Family Video, ready to put his plan into action. Robin, however, is dreading to come in today. She doesn't know how she will last a whole day with Steve telling her how perfect the two of you are for each other and how well your date went. She just knows you two had a great time. If she hadn't been certain already, she would have reached the conclusion at the very latest when Steve basically came skipping into work, smiling with giddy excitement.

For the first three hours, Robin is surprisingly successful at dodging Steve's attempts at conversation. However, her luck runs out when he decides that both of them will have an early lunch break since it is a pretty slow day and there is really nothing to do. She can hardly say no to that, at least not without awaking suspicions. So after Steve does a quick food run and picks up some baked goods from a nearby bakery, the two sit down next to each other, each with a fresh pastry in front of them. That's when Steve sees his chance at being your hypeman.

"... and you know, I feel that's something not a lot of people do, like it's rare you find someone like that. And she is also just a great listener, like she does not only listen; she actually hears what you say. You know what I mean?"

This is hell. No, Robin bets hell is a whole lot nicer than this. It has to be. Nothing could be as awful as your best friend going on a ten-minute monologue about how perfect your crush is and what a great time they had on their date.

"So what do you think? You've known her for a while; do you think she's cool?"

"Yeah, she is. I'm glad your date went so well, and I think it's great you found someone. I'm really happy for you. So when are you going out again?"

Wait.

That is not what Steve was trying to achieve. Stop! Abort mission!

"Oh, we are not going out again."

Robin nearly chokes on her croissant. Eyes wide, coughing, she nearly spits out what she didn't manage to force down her throat.

"What do you mean you won't go out again? You literally just went on a ten-minute rant about how great she is!"

"Yeah, she is. But she's not interested in me. She already likes someone else."

Robin doesn't understand how her best friend can be so nonchalant about this. He seems absolutely unfazed, talking to her as if the reality that the most perfect girl does not like him back is the most basic fact, that he has absolutely no negative feelings about. Did he recently become extremely good at acting? There is no way he was able to hide his feelings so well.

"Steve, I am so sorr-"

"No, it's fine. Really, I'm okay. I actually wouldn't be affected at all if she started seeing this person. Like, I'd be really happy for both of them. No negative feelings on my part at all."

Okay, now he was acting weird. And why would you say yes to the date in the first place, if you already had your eyes on someone else? So she asks him about it.

"She believes her crush doesn't like her back, so she thought there was no harm in going on a date with me. But she is definitely not interested in me in the slightest!"

"Well, that's bullshit. Who wouldn't like her? I mean, she is everything! She is smart, pretty, compassionate, and talented. She is the full package. There is no way anyone would say no to her. I thin-"

Steve stops comprehending what she says after that, too occupied with his own thoughts. How could he have been so oblivious? The hiding in the back? The constant redirection to him? Her inability to speak to you? She wasn't giving you the opportunity to talk to him; she was too nervous to talk to you herself. Robin had a big fat crush on you, and it was so obvious now that he was paying attention.

Steve's ecstatic. Now all that was left to do was set you two up.

---

This was easier said than done. For a few days, he tried and tried to come up with a way to get you two together without telling either one about the other's feelings. However, this was nearly impossible with how much you two insisted on avoiding each other, each dealing with their own heartbreak, still believing their feelings weren't reciprocated.

At some point, the frustration became too overwhelming, and he reached the conclusion that he was going to have to out at least one of you to the other. His first thought is to just put you two in a room, drop the bomb, and then leave you to it. Steve decides against this, fearing you would both be too awkward to move forward from this.

He contemplates who could handle the situation better and decides that telling you is probably the right choice. Happy with the prospect of finally freeing himself of this burden, he gives you a quick call, informing you of his need for a conversation, and then makes his way over.

---

"Why did you have to tell me? Why couldn't you tell Robin? Now I have to make the move, and I'm probably gonna embarrass myself soo bad!"

After getting over the shock that Robin reciprocated your feelings (at least to Steve's suspicions), you relatively quickly became frantic, mad that he put you in a position where you had to be the one to act. Why couldn't he tell her? After all, is she his best friend? And he knows that you like her, for sure. Even though he swears to be sure about Robin's feelings as well, he never actually heard her admit it out loud.

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I have the perfect, foolproof plan."

"Ew, don't say that word."

"What? Plan?"

"Shut up. So what's your great plan?"

The relationship between you and Harrington has gotten a lot more casual and familiar since your "date." You never expected it, but you are really glad to call him a close friend now.

"Okay, listen up. You're going to come to Family Video tomorrow, bring some takeout, or better prepare some food yourself, and tell Robin you and I made plans to have lunch together."

"Wait, I thought you had the day off tomorrow?"

"I have. So you are going to be all disappointed, having prepared all that food for nothing. So you will offer to share with her instead. It's the only logical thing. You wouldn't want to waste the food."

"That's the worst plan I've ever heard. That's so lame, Steven!"

"Don't call me Steven. And it's brilliant! You will get a nice romantic date without making it look like you're doing too much."

You're still not convinced, but you don't have a better idea, so you agree.

---

"Hi, Robin!"

"Oh, hi, hello, what's up?" What the fuck? Get yourself together. "What are you doing here?" Robin has been paranoid since Steve voiced his suspicion about her feelings for you. If completely oblivious Steve could see it, could you too?

"Is Steve here? We have plans for lunch." You demonstratively hold up the two lunch boxes you brought.

You spent hours yesterday racking your brain about what to prepare. What would Robin enjoy the most? What can you cook without messing it up, especially if you're this nervous? All while you also considered what you could eat without embarrassing yourself. You don't want to sit there and have half the contents of your burger fall all over your hands. Or get food stuck between your teeth without noticing. And what could you transport over without ruining it in the process? Would the food stay warm for long enough? Or should you pick a meal that is served at room temperature? In the end, you called Steve and cooked the first thing he suggested, following his advice not to overthink it.

"Steve is not scheduled for today."

"Oh."

"That's so typical, this dingus. I'll call him; give me a minute."

"It's fine. Would you maybe like to share? My lunch break will be over till he gets here. I mean, I already cooked and brought the food. If you don't have any other plans, we could share it. Unless you don't want to. That would be fine as well. I don't-"

"I want to."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, nice. Let me just set up."

"Oh, of course, I'll show you the break room. Follow me."

The awkwardness dies quickly. Talking to Robin with the knowledge that she likes you back makes you a lot more relaxed around her. There aren't any weird periods of silence, and you feel a warmth and connection you never felt before.

With that, you finally work up the courage to ask her out. After years of pining, you are really about to do it.

"I wanted to ask you something, and it is totally okay if you say no. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. If you don't want to, we can just forget that I ever asked, so-"

"Just spit it out. Rambling is my thing, and you are not allowed to steal that." Robin tries to lighten the mood and take away from your clear nervousness.

"Would you like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date."

"But Steve said- WAIT! I am the one you like?"

"Yeah."

"Damn."

"So?"

"I would really like to go out with you."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

[headfarintheclouds]

The Deal (Iso x Reader) Chapter 1

I tried dto post that 3 times from my PC but Tumblr crashed... so I'm posting it from my phone. I hope you guys like it !

Words count : 1400k

TW: none

"Fuck this I'm done!" yelling in anger I threw the gun to the ground, if Brimstone or Sova saw me right now I would probably get a scolding of a lifetime, but they weren't here with me. Only Gekko and his crew.

"Hey, calm down Y/n ! I'm sure you get it next try." the green haired Latino raised his hands, trying to stop me from exiting the practice range. I threw a nasty glare his way, making Trash growl at me in warning. "Hey, no that's not very nice!" he quickly scolded the creature making it roll its eyes at him.

I huffed and turned my head to the target I was practicing on. A ray of bullet holes behind it, only five or four on it. If being bad at shooting was a sport, then I was the champion of it.

"I'm sorry Mateo but I've been practicing for months now. I can't seem to land a single shot. If it's gonna be like that then I might as well quit while I'm ahead." I told him with a sad smile. His brow eyes widened in surprise upon hearing me say that, before I knew it, he was standing before me with a deep frown on his youthful face.

"Hey no, don't think like that. Not everyone is good at everything, chicka. Sometime those things take time." sending me a small smile he put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it in silent support.

"It's been six months through, what if I'm not made for this?" I looked up at my best friend, desperation clear in my voice.

"Nobody was made for this, but everyone made it work in the end. You'll get there soon enough." he nodded his head, firmly believing in his own words.

I sighed. Yeah, I was invited to Valorant by Brimstone himself, but back then none of us knew I would be an absolute shit at shooting. All he saw was a silent Radiant, with control over sounds who was amazingly good at sneaking and getting information. It was what he needed, he told me back then. But then assured me he wouldn't send me anywhere until I finished my training. Ever since then I have been on the base spending my time in the shooting range alongside Gekko and Neon, who quickly became my best friend among the Agents. Guess I got one good thing out of that whole shit show.

"I'll talk to Brimstone." I said, already making up my mind. Wingman who was standing in-between us, put his tiny limp on my leg and let out a series of sad chirps making my heart clench in pain. Gosh I was going to miss this adorable guy. Neon and Gekko too, heck even Yoru who was a pain in the ass from day one.

"Y/n please, think about this." Gekko begged, his eyes glossy from the unshed tears. I chuckled halfheartedly at my friend and put a hand over the one he still had on my shoulder.

"I have."

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

After my talk with Brimstone I made my way to my room and started to pack up my things. The older man wasn't pleased with my decision and tried to persevere me to stay, heck he even involved Sage in it knowing how much respect I held for the women. But I wasn't about to drag everyone down with my poor skills. They had Omen, Sova and Cypher to gather all the information they needed.

A knock on my door stopped me in my tracks. Narrowing my brows I sighed and decided to ignore it in favor of putting my things in my duffle bag. Another knock, this time a louder and more aggressive one.

"I don't want to talk, leave me alone Gekko!" I yelled hoping it would be enough. After all who else would it be? Neon didn't know about me leaving yet, and both Sage and Brimstone respected my choices enough to leave me alone for now.

"It's not Gekko." my eyes widened in surprise upon hearing the deep voice of Iso.

The Chinese hit man quickly became my favorite person around HQ, even if we didn't spend nearly enough time together, I still found myself harboring a crush on him. What was he doing outside my door?

I walked over to it and punched in the code to open them, coming face to chest with the handsome man. My eyes widened upon seeing the intensity in his lilac-colored orbs. They seemed to be glowing.

"I heard you were leaving." he stated, no greetings or how are you's. Just straight to the point.

"I.. I am yes." stuttering I gasped when he pushed me in the room and closed the door behind him.

"Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" I blinked in confusion.

"Why are you leaving? Give me a one good reason." he wasn't making any sense to me. Why was he suddenly so interested in me leaving the place? We spoke maybe a total of five times during my stay here. But I had to admit, it did make my heart do summer sluts inside my ribcage. Did he care?

"I suck at shooting, that's why." I stated simply, observing his face for any kind of reaction. All I got was him clenching his jaw and mumbling something in Chinese.

"Is that all?" he asked, making me narrow my own eyes at him.

"Excuse me?"

"That is not a valid reason to leave." he said in anger, taking a step closer. I never realized how big he was until now, holy shit! And he was mad at me to! (For some reason) Was this the way I was going to die?

"What's it to you?' I challenged him with a hiss.

"You. Me. Shooting Range tomorrow at noon. I will train you personally from now on." I could myself going pale. He wanted to train me? Personally? Yes please, but also no fucking way. I wasn't about to make a fool out of myself in front of my crush.

"No way. I'm leaving first thing in the morning." shaking my head I missed the moment he got closer, until I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. It smelled faintly of cinnamon.

"I am not asking you, I'm telling you Tián tián." he leaned his head even closer, so close in fact I could make specks of dark purple in his eyes. "Listen to me. Let's make a deal. If you stay, I will make it so you'll be one of the best shooters in the entire team. Give me three months." I blinked at the sudden change of attitude. He was very confident in what he was saying that much I could tell.

"And if I don't become the best shooter?" I whispered, too scared to speak any louder than that. He was still very close to me, so when he smirked upon hearing my Question I about fainted then and there.

"Then I will let you go."

"You will let me go? Aren't you getting ahead of yourself, big guy?"

"Let me put it this way. If at any point of the three months you'll run away, I will personally hunt you down and drag you back. Do you understand?"

Okay, what the fuck was going on right now? Where was the sweet and shy guy who stuck to the side lines and didn't interact with others? Was he swapped during one of the missions? Did he hit his head or something? I blinked up at the older male, trying to understand what was being said to me.

"Okay. But what if you win the bet? What do you want in return?" I asked, my voice curious to hear his reason.

"You'll see." he stood up straight, putting more distance between us and making my heart calm down a bit. "I'll see you tomorrow." he winked and left both my room and me in a state of ruin.

[saintsenara]

You mentioned fanon turning barty crouch jr. into an uninteresting character. I don't know much about what the new fanon characterisation has really done with him, but I'm curious for your thoughts on why he's a canonically interesting character. I agree that he is, but it sounds like you might have some interesting thoughts on it that are already fleshed out.

thank you for the ask, @jamesunderwater, and i'm sorry for taking so long to drag myself around to answering this.

as you may have gathered if you’ve read my views on jegulus or wolfstar, the common fanon interpretation of marauders-era characters and i don’t really get on.

this is not a new development - me and goofy fanon sirius have been beefing for over a decade at this point, i fear - but our enmity has taken on a new form since [roughly] 2020, when the emergence of what we might call the modern marauders subfandom brought with it a whole series of expectations about characters, ships, personalities, and appearances in first war stories which - let me state my position immediately - have absolutely nothing to do with the characters as they are in canon.

i could talk about sirius or regulus or james or snape or lupin until the cows come home - as, i’m sure, could many of us - but i also dislike the expectations the marauders subfandom has around its supporting cast. these characters - who largely fall under the categories of women, slytherins, or both - have names that we might recognise from canon, but they are - to all intents and purposes - original characters.

to do some marauders fan defending, i do understand the rationale behind this. hogwarts is a school, and it needs to be filled with the sort of incidental characters that lightning-era writers can pull from the canon text [shoutout to ernie macmillan, the mvp]. if you’re writing about lily, then she needs friends - why not have them be alice, marlene, dorcas, emmeline, pandora etc.?

[well, because dumbledore isn’t running a child army. it makes no sense for the entire order of the phoenix to be in the same school year - and the idea that alice is probably around ten years older than lily, that pandora is around the same age as narcissa malfoy and isn’t a pureblood, and that marlene, dorcas, and emmeline are hard-nosed ministry bitches in their fifties who can have mad-eye moody quaking with just a look is something which can be prised from my cold, dead hands.]

and if you’re writing about the epic highs and lows of high-school football going to school during a sectarian conflict, then you need some antagonists. which is to say, you need some slytherins.

the issue i have is that the three key slytherins who seem to have been elevated to principal cast in the marauders pantheon - regulus black, barty crouch jr., and evan rosier - get what can only be called the smol bean treatment. that is, that three teenagers who all canonically join a terror organisation are turned into soft and tiny babies who thought lord voldemort was just feeling silly when he said, "my aim is the eradication of the muggleborn population through violent means."

and even fics which do acknowledge that the three willingly become terrorists often go out of their way to provide justifications for this which don’t contextualise their decision [something which is important - you can’t write about snape becoming a death eater without acknowledging the way that poverty, loneliness, and a sense of hopelessness make someone an easy target of radicalisation] but which minimise it. sometimes, their violence is turned into romantic vengeance - i’ve seen a fair amount of suggestions that barty goes to torture the longbottoms because frank was the auror who killed evan. sometimes, authors imply - or even outright state - that there’s no need to see these boys as aspiring villains: voldemort is right; the class system is good and should be maintained; and purebloods [usually james, sirius, regulus, barty, evan and maybe a token woman or two] should stick together while the half-breeds and the mudbloods go hang.

this - like all aristocracy wank in this fandom - annoys me enough with regulus and evan. but it’s particularly grating when it comes to barty crouch jr. because - unlike evan, who is literally just a name in the text, and regulus, who isn’t much more - he actually has a canon personality.

and it’s fascinating. indeed, i would even go so far as to say that barty crouch jr. is the greatest villain in the harry potter series.

[my apologies to lord voldemort.]

after all, even though he’s been imprisoned under the imperius curse for over a decade, barty is still so lucid and powerful that he is able to:

produce magic capable of tricking the goblet of fire, which is treated by all the adult characters involved as unprecedented.

pull off a year-long impersonation of a man whom dumbledore evidently knows extremely well without being clocked until his mission has been successful, even though his opportunities to observe the real moody can have been virtually non-existent. he is in character within seconds of his ambush on moody’s home - after the intruder-alert dustbins are set off - and is able to persuade ministry personnel who can be presumed to have met moody personally [including both amos diggory and arthur weasley, who appear to know him not only personally, but well] that he is the real deal. he maintains his performance even under close scrutiny from the teaching colleagues he has to interact with daily at hogwarts, despite the fact that he presumably can’t get a great deal out of the real moody, since he’s having to be kept deliberately weak and docile under the imperius curse.

manipulate multiple people into become accessories to his crimes, without ever being suspected of doing so. with the hindsight of knowing who he is, the first defence against the dark arts lesson in goblet of fire, in which "moody" deliberately distresses neville by using the cruciatus curse directly in front of him, before swooping in to be the person to cheer him up so that he can plant information which will help harry win the triwizard tournament and deliver him to voldemort, is chilling. he just gets unlucky that harry has the biggest martyr complex in human history.

commit murder on hogwarts’ grounds without ever being suspected of wrongdoing.

execute lord voldemort’s plan to kidnap harry and use him in his resurrection ritual flawlessly. the plan itself may be convoluted - but dark lords are allowed to have a flair for the dramatic, as a treat - but, crucially, it works, and barty succeeds in every respect.

but, i concede, we’re talking about the adult barty here. perhaps he was once a sweetheart who went unfortunately off the rails after his father sent him to prison and then - in effect - drugged him for years. that wouldn’t be a ridiculous suggestion.

except for the fact that - canonically - the teen barty was just as clever, sly, manipulative, and - above all - ardent in his support for voldemort as his adult self.

at his trial in the early 1980s, young barty gives the performance of a lifetime. he screams, he shakes, he looks terrified of the dementors, he is pale and weak and harmless-looking, he begs his mother to help him, he pleads with his father for mercy, he maintains his innocence as he's dragged off to his cell. he gives off the impression of simply having been in the wrong place at the wrong time so well that harry is almost certain that his conviction is illegitimate. so too, it is implied, is dumbledore.

indeed, barty plays the part of the wrongfully imprisoned so well that - as canon tells us - he not only influences public opinion to be broadly in favour of his probable innocence [or, at least, his diminished culpability - sirius suggests that the widespread view was that he was probably there, but that he only ended up involved in what was clearly bellatrix’s idea because of his father’s failure to relate to him properly], but also changes public opinion against the government’s anti-death-eater strategy entirely.

following his imprisonment, his father - a man who never met an extrajudicial punishment he didn’t like, and whose ruthless approach to dealing with the death eaters in the first war [such as his use of internment for suspected terrorists and his order to aurors to shoot to kill] was, we are told, enormously popular with the wizarding public - is forced to resign in disgrace from his role as head of the department of magical law enforcement. crouch sr. is quietly shuffled off into a boring bureaucratic position, his ambitions to be minister in tatters, and his only way forward to free his son from the prison cell where he is languishing for the crime he very literally did.

[as an aside, i do think that we are supposed to read bellatrix as the ringleader of the torture of the longbottoms. but, all too often, that gets reduced to her doing everything while rodolphus, rabastan, and barty just stand there gormlessly. they were clearly performing the curses too!]

now, barty’s unusual cunning can - of course - be explained by narrative reasons. the text needs to conceal that he’s the villain [since, as with philosopher’s stone, it wants to imply that the dark lord’s faithful servant at hogwarts is snape] until the very end - and this naturally requires dumbledore to not think too hard about whether his good judy alastor is behaving even more strangely than usual.

the text also needs to suggest that he's innocent in order to properly stick the landing on the narrative role of his father - barty crouch sr. as with dolores umbridge in order of the phoenix, crouch sr. exists to show harry [and the reader] that the rot in the wizarding world was not caused by - and will not stop with the defeat of - voldemort. his ruthlessness and inflexibility, his lack of respect for due process, his astonishingly cruel treatment of winky [brutal beyond even the standard way in which wizards abuse their enslaved elves] all serve to teach harry that the anti-voldemort cause can become just as easily corrupted as the disillusioned young men in voldemort’s orbit. the suggestion that crouch sent his own son to azkaban without good reason, simply because he would not deviate from his beliefs, is an important lesson to harry about what "justice" actually means.

but, despite this, barty is also able to pull off his deception because he’s spectacularly talented. it’s not all just narrative.

and his talents are caused by characteristics which aren’t good or bad in and of themselves. he’s clearly very intelligent [he got twelve owls, the series’ benchmark for genius]. he’s hyper-observant, creative, adaptable, good under pressure, and possessed of nerves of steel. he shares these traits with other villains in the series - voldemort above all - but he also shares them with plenty of the heroes. harry, for one.

which is to say that all of his personality traits could be put to non-criminal uses. but - as with harry, who is capable of being quite sinister when he wants to be [for example, when he manipulates slughorn into giving up the horcrux memory] - they would give a non-criminal barty an edge. and this doesn’t seem to be present in his standard fanon persona - as sweet and goofy as all marauders-era men - to any great extent.

finally, there is another aspect of barty’s character which is absent from his fanon version - that he clearly has some sort of childhood trauma, but that this does not excuse any of what he does.

even though crouch sr. is right to send him to azkaban, he was clearly also a cold and distant father, who had absolutely no idea how to relate to his son.

[as another aside, this emotional negligence is bad enough without it needing to be written as having been accompanied by extreme physical and/or sexual abuse. there seems to be a real tendency in fanfiction - not only in marauders-era stuff, although the exaggeration of orion and walburga black into despotic villains is one example of this - to make childhood misery "worse", in order to justify a character’s later actions.]

voldemort demonstrably uses barty’s terrible relationship with crouch sr. [and his absolutely flagrant daddy kink] to groom him into taking the dark mark [not least because there’s otherwise no explanation for why he cheerfully informs him that he too is named after his dad], which he may very well end up taking when he’s still at school. my reading is that he’s recruited to inform on his father - since voldemort would undoubtedly wish to keep the head of the department of magical law enforcement under constant surveillance - and that this is why the dark lord pays him the attention he is so obviously lacking.

but, as with snape and regulus and draco malfoy and all the other young death eaters, barty also colludes in his own radicalisation. voldemort is a master at ensnaring recruits, sure, but he’s also a busy man. he only bothers to make the effort because the clever, creative, cunning, manipulative young man - who wishes to avenge himself on the father who never paid him attention [sound familiar?] - he finds before him is very much determined to become a spectacular part of his terrorist organisation. and stories which feature him owe it to him to give him that dark complexity of character

show the series’ best villain some respect.

[kpopsexstories]

We need a story of nct Mark with older women, could you write it?

Thanks for the request and absolutely yes! 😁 I know it was probably just a typo but I want to keep these MILF stories fresh so I took “women” literally with this one 😏😏😏

One-shot #14: NCT Mark has sex with two older women

This is the 14th story in my broader Mixed One-shots series. Unlike my Quick Fix series, One-shots are usually longer and more story-driven.

Story: Mark finds himself in bed with not one, but two horny women who challenge his sexual fantasies.

Celebrity: NCT Mark

Sex Content: Mark struggles to get hard but eventually one woman rides him and he fucks the other missionary style.

Type of Sex: UNCONVENTIONAL

Word Count: 2.8k

Mark is sitting in his underwear on the edge of the bed, nervously playing with his hands in his lap. “So you're sisters?” he asks, a feeble attempt at making small talk.

The two women look at each other and giggle. One is laying on her side on the bed, the other approaches Mark and gently runs her fingers over his bare shoulder. They too are only in their underwear.

“No,” the woman on the bed says behind him. “I'm her mother.”

Mark’s eyes widen. I guess she could be, he thinks and turns to look at her. In reality they're both old enough to be his.

The women are playing with him though. They actually just met, at a hotel bar a few hours ago. And while one is indeed older than the other they're not related in any way. This is all just a game to them.

To poor Mark it's something much bigger, at least it feels that way. He's nervous, but also excited. He's struggling to get hard, perhaps because he's overthinking things.

This all happened so fast. Before they got this far he was happy and confident, when he briefly chatted with the mature ladies in the very same bar they met in. He really loved the attention they were giving him, and genuinely thought he was so cool and sexy the way he was able to impress them.

Now, in his hotel room, he feels like a gold fish dropped into the ocean.

The woman standing next to him can tell that he's distraught. Her fingers press a little harder as she comes to stand right in front of him.

Mark is afraid to look up, though God knows he wants to. He wants to reach out and feel her body, to see her, and the tingle between his legs finally returns. But he can't get himself to do it.

“Hey,” the woman says softly. “Don't be nervous.”

He feels a foot brush against his side, as the woman on the bed comes to play.

“Surely a hot guy like you has had many women before,” she says.

Mark briefly closes his eyes when the woman in front of him slowly bends down, tracing her fingers along his chest. Her face stops right in front of his and she gently lifts his chin.

“Do you want to have sex with us?” she asks seductively.

Mark raises his gaze ever so slightly. “Mm-hm,” he whispers, but he can't stop focusing on the hand approaching his crotch. It consumes his mind and makes him stiff.

The hand reaches its target. The fingers glide down Mark's stomach, find the underwear, and suddenly the whole palm of the woman's hand is pressing against his semi soft dick. The tingle intensifies, but he still struggles.

“Oh,” the woman says and smiles faintly. She looks over at her friend. “I see we've got some work to do.”

She returns to look at Mark and continues: “It's okay honey. We'll help you get there.”

Mark finally dares to face her. She sounds so warm and motherly. Her smile makes him relaxed, though there's nothing else relaxing about her or the situation he finds himself in.

She slowly begins to massage his crotch over the underwear. Simultaneously, the foot behind him is making larger strokes along his slim body. Briefly, a toe gets caught in the seams and pulls the underwear down.

The woman in front of him kneels. She plants her lips on his chest, and goes lower toward the crotch and massaging hand. She presses harder, massages faster, and the dick finally begins to grow.

When the lips reach it the foot takes a firmer grip around the seams. The underwear are pulled further and harder, and Mark's crack is revealed behind him. Simultaneously, two hands grab them and pull, and Mark instinctively lifts his butt.

The underwear start coming off. They get stuck on the dick which is pressed strong and long against the fabric. The hands lift the seams to free it, and by the time the underwear come all the way off, Mark has grown to full size.

The woman looks straight down at his dick and smiles wide. “That was easier than I thought,” she says and glances at her friend.

The friend suddenly sits up, approaching Mark from behind. Her hands land on his shoulders and glide around to his front. She wraps him in her arms, explore his chest and plant her lips on his exposed neck. Her breasts are squeezed against his back and at some point the hands disappear as she removes her bra before coming back to kiss and touch him.

In front of him, the kneeling woman looks up and smiles one last time, as if to make sure that the young, adorable man is indeed okay with all this. His mouth is open and he looks bewildered, but also totally into it.

She leans down, returning her focus to the hard dick. She grabs it, points it straight up, and lower her lips onto the head.

“Mm, does that feel good?” a voice behind him whispers when Mark's cock is swallowed. “Do you like it when we suck you?”

Mark's mind is running wild. He feels like he's supposed to say something profound but can't figure out what. “Y-yeah,” he stutters, and that's really all he needs to do.

“Relax,” both women say at the same time. It makes them giggle which only makes Mark more nervous.

But he won't stay nervous for long. Because the confidence he showed before they undressed him in the room was real. He's not inexperienced, and he's really got nothing to be nervous about. It's just that this particular situation – two much older women in his bed – is new to him.

His confidence begins to return when the woman on her knees stops sucking his dick, and starts pushing him backwards on the bed. The woman behind him moves aside, and sits down by folding her legs under her. Mark's head lands in her lap, and when she lovingly looks down at his face and strokes his hair, it's like he finally accepts the situation for what it is. He decides to simply go with it.

He reaches up to touch the naked breasts dangling over his head. They're large but saggy, a clear sign of the significant age difference. But he loves them, and the idea of fucking a mature woman really turns him on.

Beneath his legs the woman who sucked him so good stands up by the side of the bed. She takes off her bra while Mark stares at her in amazement. She pulls down her panties and kick them off her feet, revealing her floppy folds.

She comes crawling toward him. She briefly grabs the dick and strokes it, only to let it go and move further up his body. The two women look at each other as if to confirm their actions with each other.

“I don't think I can take another,” the one with the large breasts say. “He's all yours.”

They both giggle, fully aware that they're doing something naughty. This feels like something forbidden but exciting. It may be just a game to them, but it also makes them feel young and desired. She was right, the woman thinks as she sits down on top of Mark and smiles.

She lingers over his crotch. She lifts her ass and reach for the dick, which throbs between her fingers.

Oh my god, Mark thinks. I'm about to have sex with them!

His confidence builds up further when the woman sits back down, and his shaft is pushed into her vagina. He closes his eyes and moans, while she holds her breath and tilts her head back.

It feels great. Slippery and smooth, and very roomy. It's not a tight pussy but that's okay. The sensation it gives him is great.

He reaches for her thighs, squeezing and caressing them with his hands. She begins to roll her hips, sensually and with passion. She stares into her friend's eyes while she rides Mark's cock, smiling and moaning as if it's the best sex she's had in a decade.

Her moans and motions do something to Mark. He starts to thrust, to take initiative, raising his ass at an ever faster pace. His arms and legs tense up, as he fucks the older woman with an ever-increasing lust and confidence.

“Mm,” he groans. The inhibitions in him are going away. “Ahh, yeah.”

The two women smile even more. They love that he's finally thawing. They want to feel his young dick pulsating inside them, rubbing and throbbing in their pussies. Even the one who claimed to be too spent is starting to feel hot and horny when she watches her new friend ride Mark's cock so lustfully.

Mark wants to include her. He's a gentleman in that way. He suddenly feels like the woman whose lap his head is still in is being left out. And so he turns his eyes to her and reaches out for her large breasts again.

As a result, she leans in closer over him. The breasts dangle right in his face and she pushes them down in it. He kisses and licks them, smirking to himself as he enjoys the soft tissue.

The two warm bodies surrounding him and the lustful bouncing on his crotch quickly fills him with pleasure. An orgasm his building up, a process that repeatedly sends amazing shock waves through his body.

“Mm, fuck,” he groans. He quickly realizes that the women seem to enjoy it when he reacts. “Ahhh, holy shit.”

They play with their boobs and bounce a little higher. “Mm, yeah, please don't stop!”

They touch every bit of his body while he squirms and thrusts under them. “Fuuck, you're so sexy.”

The woman by his side reaches in to feel his dick go in and out of her friend's vagina, a friend who moans and lets her hands glide up and down Mark's pumping chest and torso.

“Ahh, fuck yeah,” he continues and thrusts harder and harder. “Mm, you feel so good.”

Then he abruptly slows down: “Mm, yeah, wait, please stop, please, stop!”

The women pace themselves. The bouncing declines and the boobs pull away from him. They look at him curiously but with big smiles on their faces, thinking that he just came.

“Can I fuck you too?” he asks and turns to the large-breasted woman.

They glance at each other and smirk. “It's only fair,” one says and shrugs happily, and climbs off of Mark's rock hard dick. “Can you take one more?”

Mark sits up and runs his hand all over her front as if to say thank you. Then he turns to the other and crawls toward her.

“Definitely,” she says and chuckles, as she lays on her back and Mark eagerly comes down on top of her.

He kisses her large breasts and exposed neck. He licks her ear and pushes his crotch deep between her legs. She spreads them wide for him, and the dick soon finds its way to her vagina.

“Mm,” he moans when he goes in. “Ahh, you're so hot!”

The breasts rub against his chest and narrow shoulders as he begins to rock back and forth in her arms. “Mmm, yeah,” he continues while the dick goes in and out.

The rider lies down beside them. She drags her fingers over his back, feeling his shoulder blades, spine and ass cheeks that bounce up and down on her friend. She leans in to kiss his skin, then soon finds her friend's lips.

The two women begin to make out. They may only just have met on this very night, but they're well past small talk and pleasantries. Mark has unwittingly made sure of that, as they've bonded over their shared interest in fucking the young man senseless.

He lifts his head to see the show, enjoying every bit of the sloppy folds around his cock, and the women making out right next to him. He pushes himself up on his arms, spread his legs slightly, and thrusts hard and repeatedly into the pussy.

The woman's breasts are shaking violently below him. The bed slams repeatedly against the wall. The neighbors call down to reception to complain.

Dammit, not again! the poor soul who picks up the phone thinks to herself.

But the show will be over before anyone reaches the door. Mark is so close to an orgasm now, incredibly turned on by the two mature and insanely hot women who want him. He just can't keep it in any longer.

He groans loudly when the orgasm is seconds away. He moves his ass fast while the friend's hand squeezes it. He uses his arms to push and pull, rocking his whole body back and forth on the bed, jamming his cock in the wide hole hard again and again.

“Ahh, fuck!” he exclaims.

“Mm, yeah, yeah, yeah,” the woman under him repeats.

“Mm, so sexy,” her friend whimpers.

“Fuck, fuck, ugghnn, mm, Ahhhhhh!” Mark growls from the bottom of his throat.

He jolts forward and releases his cum inside the pussy. He pushes his dick hard and passionately into the woman a few more times. His eyes are shut, his face is twisted, until he's fully emptied and his muscles begin to relax. And the receptionist has called security.

When his senses begin to return the woman beside him catches his attention. She has her fingers stuck inside her. Her knee slaps against his thigh repeatedly while she flicks them and moans. She too has closed her eyes, while she pleasures herself until she comes.

“Mmm, Yees,” she whimpers lowly. “Mmmm, yes, yes, Yes, YES!”

Mark and his lover are staring at her. She grins, happy to have made her friend come. He has his mouth wide open and is still panting heavily, excited and turned on by the thrilling sight.

When the woman calms down from her orgasm and opens her eyes Mark's body caves in. His arms collapse and he falls onto the large breasts below him. He pants into his lover's neck, while slowly moving his ass up and down a few more times.

His cock is beat and weary. His balls are empty and blue. His mind is satisfied and full. Daamn, he thinks while moving his hand to one of the appealing boobs. This is insane.

Then, a knock on the door. Mark flies up in a panic, his slack dick pulling out of the loose grip around in shaft. And the woman beneath him panics too.

She quickly sits up and rolls to the side, away from the door. “Shit!” she exclaims. Her eyes are wide and she looks genuinely fearful, as she rolls down from the bed and onto the floor.

Mark is confused by her reaction. He quickly stands up but can't find his clothes. Instead he grabs the duvet and wraps it around his hips, his young mind failing to think of the other woman still flaunting her naked body on the bed.

There's a second knock, much louder this time. Mark quickly walks in the direction of the door, the duvet dragging behind him. “One second,” he says.

He opens the door slightly and peaks through the crack. A man outside is trying to look in. The woman on the bed sees him and gives the stranger a smile and a wave.

“Sorry,” Mark says and he genuinely means it. “It won't happen again.”

Then he closes the door and lets out a deep sigh of relief.

A face peaks out behind the bed. A woman still has her fingers inside her own pussy. Mark drops the duvet to the floor and comes to lie down with them. Then they all burst out in laughter.

This has been just the kind of night each if them wanted. As the woman with the large breasts crawls back into the bed to join her new friends she's filled with a sense of love. She feels young and desired again. Her lady friend has just had an insane adventure, and she can't believe how crazy but lucky it is that they ran into each other at the bar. And Mark is perhaps feeling luckiest of them all, having just had sex with two experienced and attractive older women. It's certainly been a night to remember for all of them.

Downstairs the receptionist is rolling her eyes when the guard comes to tell her what he saw. “What's that, five rooms in one night? That's got to be a record.”

[baddybaddyadardaddy]

There is noise at the edge of Mordor.

A patrolling group of uruk are caught off guard as a group of mortals, all seemingly defeated, crossed their borders all packed with large bags and belongings.

None of the uruk really knew what to do in this situation, so they made sure to confiscate weapons. Except none really carried mkre than herb cutters and small skinning knives..

After some discussing in black speech they decided this was a task only the Lord Father could answer, so they led the mortals to the edge of their hometown and had someone call for their leader.

"What brings you to our lands? I believe our terms were very clear, to leave each other be." Adar stood tall, hand resting on his sword in a gesture of strength.

"Our lands are no longer safe for us." "Our leader cast us out." There were men and women, older and young ones as well.

"We are not allowed to exsist." One spoke, and it got Adar's attention. With another good look he saw the exhaustion in their eyes. The fear they held was not directed at him, nor at his children.

"Come. We shall talk over food. You look like you need it." Mortals were nowhere near as sturdy as the uruk, and traveling all the way to his lands must have been a difficult task.

Around the cook's post the mortals ate, at small tables or on the ashen ground they huddled together. Some, the ones most outspoken, sat with Adar and talked him through the situation going on in their homeland.

They spoke of the tirant who set new laws and rules that would lead to their mutilation, take away their most basic rights or even get them killed without a punishment to their killer. They wholeheartedly believed they were beyond saving if they had stayed.

"I believe your words, and I see your worries. I only ask of the why. Why are you the ones targeted?" It was a genuine question, as he could not see what was so different about these mortals.

"I like men." A male voice spoke up. "And I pefer women." A girl added. "How I want to percieved is not the same as what I was born as. Our new leader believes people like me do not deserve to live.."

"You are cast aside for who you chose to be, or to be with?" The confusion was clear on his face, and what he felt turned to anger. Never in his life had he thought of casting someone out for being different in these ways. His kind did not truly see these things as something to pay any attention to, even.

Adar cast a gaze over the mortals in his town, and decided.

"You may stay, if you wish." He declared. "But know our culture differs from yours. What you find normal may be seen as strange. And our common actions may be seen as offensive to mortal standards. You will have to learn to live among uruk, and I will inform my children of newcomers who need to find their place."

All around the group, uruk had come to see. They listened to their Lord Father speak kindly to the mortals and took his lead. Soon enough they all settled into homes, huddled together still, but all with rheir own places to make themselves useful during the day and share their skills.

Mordor sounded terrifying when the royals spoke of it, but truly it was a haven for all those cast out by their own realms.

OKAY SO. Eh, yeah. This one is for everyone who needs a little fantasy to escape the scary reality of the world. As a European I can't say I know what all of you in the US are going through, but I still wanna share some words fo escape into for a little bit. I love all of you.

You matter ♡

💚🐰

Awww, thank you so much for sending this, friend 🖤🖤🖤

15/10 would choose to go live among the uruks at this point.

[rokishimizu4]

Arrows and Smoke

(Realized that Bruce and Oliver were married in one past or another, but I love Roy and Jason more)

It wasn’t often that Oliver Queen found himself actually busy at a gala, as it usually him bullshitting his way through the conversation and polite smiles. However, after getting the message from Flash, it was all hands on deck.

Even poor Roy, who usually never goes to any galas, was forced to attend as Cass’s plus one. As, and Oliver would never admit it out loud, but Roy was a better, quiet, shot and Cass’s ability to read people makes for a great duo.

Oliver stood off to the side, surrounded by chatty women with big earrings and even bigger check books, and felt like he rather switch places with Flash, risked bite mark and all, but notices a man entering with his wife and twin, which was someone that he never saw before.

He was not the only one to notice as he could see Jason, damn that kid got tall, do a quick circle once and flashed a polite smile at the family as the father grabbed a glass of champagne. (Aka not familiar but not on the Bat’s hit list)

However, his attention is ripped from the strange family as Bruce strides up to him, and his group of older ladies, and asks if he could “steal” him away for a moment.

”Thank fuck, I thought those ladies wanted to strip me.” He teases as he follows after Bruce, talking nonsense to fool everyone else, but tries to keep any eye on the family-especially on how much the father drinks.

“It seems like a few of your kids couldn’t make it. Who has a gala in the middle of the day anyways?” (Aka has your kids find anything? Reason for the early meeting?) “I can barely keep up with my own business nowadays.”

”Duke and Dick are in an early meeting and Barbara is meeting her father for lunch. Cass and Damian were the only ones that could make it.” (Aka busy as all hell). “It’s been sometime since we were able to have a proper get together.”

”Tell me about it! I can barely sit down to eat without someone in my ear talking about recent events.”

The two men talk and flirt with young women for a few more hours, never drinking more than a glass or two. Keeping eyes out for anyone that could be a target. Until a crash of a metal tray hitting the polished marble.

Eyes turn towards the noise and everyone sees the father, of the small family, raising his hand towards his wife as if to smack her, but Jason got in the middle of it.

Bruce and Oliver rush to the scene, only to find the man crying while his wife stands there indifferent. As if her almost being hit was just another day for her. The twins stand a little ways off to the side with Roy and Cass.

”What is the meaning of this? Security!” Another man, the Host of the Gala, calls but Oliver holds up a hand to stop the guards.

”I believe he just needs some fresh air, I’ll escort him out. Please, continue the party.” Oliver flashes his Ollie smile and helps the man to his feet and politely drags the man out and into the fresh air.

”It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” The man mumbles, clearly having more than a few glasses of champagne but not sure what else he could have drank.

”That.. that woman… don’t let..” The man tries to continue but his eyes begin to droop, and Oliver starts to worry.

However, before Oliver could get more out of him the man starts coughing violently. He tries to keep the man on his feet and tries to call for help. He manages to get the attention of people, and calls 911.

Police and ambulance arrives even before the first ring, signaling that someone else called long before he did. The medics take the man as Oliver rushes back in, almost being trampled by the mob rushing out of the building while screaming bloody murder.

It doesn’t take long for Oliver to figure out why as the windows burst apart around the force of a ice slide rampaging through.

Several people?, burst down the ice slide cackling like children, with the twins in the arms of a red werewolf (Having the time of their lives). A winged girl, with blue and pink hair and a very revealing dress, flies down and snatches the man right out of the medic’s grip and spreads some type of dust as she flies.

A man with a black fedora mumbles spells and chants for all to hear and Oliver starts to feel dizzy as a sudden sleepiness overcomes him.

Then the strangest of all, a black and purple monster of oil follows after, carrying the screaming woman out of the building and drops her violently off at Jim’s police car. Her screaming about her head being ripped off and eaten.

Then, as if nothing happened, the group disappeared in the fedora wearing man’s smoke spell, but not before an arrow shoots through it and hits the man’s fedora.

”Nice shot kid.” Oliver whispered in awe as the police and medics quickly take over the scene, only making way for Signal and Nightwing once they are on scene.

“Commissioner Gordon, please bring this woman in for kidnapping, drug and sex trafficking, and for the murder of Mrs. Bolton, a Metropolis running mate for mayor.” Nightwing orders, and Oliver thinks that he and Roy should have stayed in Central City with the Flash.

[jeridandridge]

Atomic

Jacob takes Melissa to a gay bar.

CW: Implications of religious trauma, internalized homophobia.

In the break room at Abbott Melissa sits tapping her boot on the floor while Janine jabbers on about the newest situation she wants Barbara’s guidance on. While the kid goes on and on the redhead sits at the table looking over her shoulder every so often at Jacob.

The younger teacher sits at the table with Janine nervously nibbling his sandwich. No one wants Melissa Schemmenti looking at them like they have a target on their back that they don’t know about.

“What?!” He shrugs almost irritated looking at the redhead.

Melissa shakes her head going back to her phone. “Nothin, kid. Just uh, come to my room after the bell.” With that she grabs her stuff and goes back to her class for the afternoon.

Dropping his sandwich the young teacher looks to Barbra with an agape mouth. The older woman holds up her hand gathering her things.

“I don’t know a thing, Jacob.”

In her classroom, Melissa sits at her desk getting back to the grading she was doing before lunch. She has five minutes until she has to get her kids from the lunch room, and in those five minutes she has to talk herself out of a panic attack.

She doesn’t know why she’s this way but she hates it. Her thoughts run wild about the topic. She’s old. She’s divorced. She’s not as thin as she once was. Who could want her? Who could want her when she’s not sure what she wants. The cross around her neck feels like it weighs a ton, enough to pull her down and down further and further into her somber thought. The thoughts only stop when her watch chimes alerting her it’s time to get the kids from the lunch room.

At the end of the day Jacob contemplates shimmying down the side of the school from his window so he doesn’t have to go see Melissa. He paces back and forth before he finally gives in. “I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go!” He huffs grabbing his bag and leaving his room.

The young teacher is too nervous to even give Mr. Morton a fake friendly smile as the man says hello to him, too afraid for his own life. Keeping his shoulders back he holds onto the strap of his bag tightly as he pokes his head into the redheads classroom.

“What’s your deal over there?” Melissa nods looking up from her desk as Jacob looks side to side and up at the ceiling.

“Just checking, making sure there aren’t any traps or surprises.”

“What are you talkin about, kid?” She rolls her eyes, “I just wanna talk to ya.”

Noting the serious tone shift in her voice, he comes in leaning against the kids desk across from Melissa. He’d never seen her look nervous like she does now, fingers fidgeting and no eye contact.

“Melissa, whatever you need to say, you can and I appreciate you feeling comfortable enough to tell me.” He explains gently. In reality he expected her to snap at him and say forget it, instead the redhead lets out a breath and motions for him to come closer as she gets up closing her classroom door.

The two teachers are quiet as they both stand closer to each other. Melissa can feel her heart beating against her ribcage and she gathers up the courage.

“Listen kid, I might give ya a hard time and tease and all that, but I do respect you.” She tells the young man. “And I think you can help me figure some things out.”

Jacob, for once, is at a loss for words.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinkin, after breaking it off with Gary and all,” she waves her hand, “and I think I also like women.” She finally lets it out, feeling instantly better.

Jacob smiles at his co worker feeling honored.

“Well first off thank you for telling me this very personal, inspirational info. Saying something like that out loud, it feels good doesn’t it?”

“It actually does,” she smiles. “It feels airy. But I guess I just wanna know how to start. I mean, I ain’t young anymore and catholic guilt is a bitch.” She shrugs.

“Let me ask you this,” he starts, “Do you want to explore, and get to know the real Melissa?”

“Yeah,” she shrugs. “That’s the point ain’t It?”

Jacob has to hide his smile, grin growing on his face. “Tell you what, Zach and I are going out this weekend, nothing crazy, just a bar. Why don’t you come with us?”

Melissa tries to come up with an excuse, she really does, her stomach is in knots at just the thought of a gay bar.

“Okay, but we ain’t telling anyone about this.” She points at him in a warning.

“But what abou-“

“No one, kid.” She cuts him off shooting him a look.

Jacob nods comparing himself. “I’ll email you the details.”

Saturday comes all too quickly for Melissa. After a day of trying to distract herself with cleaning and cooking, her house is spotless and she has four different dishes in her fridge big enough to feed a small army and even that doesn’t slow the clock down.

At nine o’clock she finds herself walking arm in arm with Jacob to the bar, Zach the sweet guy he is, behind them.

“Honey! They’re doing karaoke already!” He smiles looking over at the crowded karaoke stand in the corner.

Melissa looks around the dimly lit bar, spotting black lights, rainbows, and plenty of decor on the walls.

“Go on, honey, I’m sticking with Melissa tonight.” Jacob squeezes his hand before Zach goes off with a smile.

Melissa stands with her hand on her hip, her leather jacket, her armor not even able to give her the confidence she needs. feeling totally out of place in a bar like this not because it’s a gay bar, but because everyone’s so young she pats Jacob’s arm. “G’head, kid. I’ll be at the bar.”

If there’s one thing Melissa knows it’s where to find a nice bourbon or a crisp glass of wine. When Melissa saddles up to the bar she quirks a brow at the pretty woman behind it, toned arms on display and long hair in a pony tail.

“Hi gorgeous, what can I get for ya?” The bartender gives Melissa a smile that makes her stomach flip. The redhead knows how it works, she bartended in college herself, she knows bartenders flirt to get more tips.

“Bourbon neat, hon.” She orders with a friendly smiles.

Grabbing a glass the bartender fixes her drink sliding it over. “So, are you friends with Jacob? I saw you come in with him and I’ve never seen you before.” She smiles.

“You know Jacob?” Melissa quirks a brow, “That Jacob over there?”

“Yeah,” the bartender laughs with a nod. “Jacob Hill. We’re friends, sorta.”

“I give him crap, but he’s a good kid.” Melissa nods. “I’m surprised he’s friends with a,” she trails off looking at the woman, “toned, tattooed, twenty something.”

The bartender tips her head back in a laugh, leaning forward with her arms on the bar to get closer. “Thirty something actually. This is my bar.” She smiles. “What about you, gorgeous? How do you know Jacob?”

There’s that word again. It’s catches her off guard once more and this time the stunning woman is even closer, a warm, raspberry vanilla smell hits her nose. Suddenly the blaring music and the sounds of glasses clanking and chairs moving become too much on top of her thoughts.

“Woah, hey, you okay?” The bartender asks gently resting her hand on the redhead’s.

At the touch of the woman’s hand Melissa pulls away almost like a flame has grazed her skin.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shakes her head, “I’m-“

“Don’t sweat it,” the bartender smiles. “Hey maya!” She calls over her shoulder, “cover the bar for me. You, come with me,” she waves Melissa over as she comes out from behind the bar.

Melissa stands and follows the woman, almost drooling when she sees the tightest jeans known to mankind.

The bartender reaches back gently grabbing her hand. “I don’t normally do this, but since you’re Jacob’s friend I’ll make an exception,” she smiles leaning in towards Melissa’s ear.

Melissa’s breath hitches in her throat at the closeness of the woman. Through a hallway the woman opens up an office door revealing a pretty normal room with a few posters and a pride flag on the wall behind a desk.

“It can be a little too rowdy out there,” the bartender smiles handing her a cold water bottle from the fridge.

Sitting on a black leather couch Melissa sips the water hearing a muffled Blondie song from the outside, the beat almost as fast as her heart drumming against her ribcage.

She eyes the bartender who sits at her desk, arms above her head in a stretch.

“Sorry, hon. It’s been a weird time recently.” Melissa apologizes.

“No need to an apologize, gorgeous. I’m a bartender, I might as well be a therapist.” She jokes. “If you weren’t Jacob’s friend I wouldn’t have brought you back here to my secret lair.”

This gets a laugh out of Melissa. “Some lair, it’s not dark and mysterious or anything. And you don’t have to keep calling me that. I’m Melissa.” She finally shares.

“Nah, I’ll still call you gorgeous.” She smiles yet again, making Melissa’s heart jump. Sipping the water she shakes her head.

“I knew it’d be a gamble coming here.” She sighs. “I can’t even handle talking to a woman.” This makes the bartender frown.

“First time in a gay bar?” She asks, not a single note of judgement in her voice.

“Yeah,” Melissa nods. “Jacob convinced me to come even though I’m noneya business years too old to be here.”

The bartender sits back in her desk chair almost examining the redhead, making Melissa shift in her seat. She knows the woman sees right through her, soft eyes meeting hers.

“You know, one night I was here, it was a Tuesday,” the bartender starts softly, “There wasn’t much happening yet, it wasn’t even seven, and this old woman comes in with her great granddaughter. They both take a seat at the bar so I come over like always, and we start talking. The woman was 93 years old and you know what she said to me?”

Melissa sits with a small smile playing on her lips as she listens closely, shaking her head no, enthralled by the story.

“She said she just turned 93 and finally, after decades, had the courage to be her authentic self. Isn’t that beautiful?”

The question makes Melissa think. Really think. All her life she did her best to please others, stuck with tradition, and did her best to make her family proud despite trying to go against the grain as best she could.

“Yeah, it is beautiful.” She hums quietly parting her lips to speak again, only to be interrupted by the door opening.

“Hey, boss the ice machine is jammed again.” The other bartender pokes her head in.

“Alright,” the woman sighs, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

When the door closes again Melissa stands up, following the woman back into the hall towards the music and crowd.

“Listen, I’m pretty new at this sorta thing,” Melissa says shyly, not like herself. “But I’d like to talk to you more, get coffee or dinner sometime? doesn’t have to mean anything.” She adds quickly.

The bartender gives her a soft smile, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “When you’re ready, Melissa, you know where to find me.”

With a wink and a gentle squeeze, Melissa’s left standing in the doorway of the hall with a ridiculous smile on her face watching the woman spring into action.

She’d have to thank Jacob.

[fl3shm4id3n]

Dₒₙ'ₜ ₜₐₖₑ ₐₚₚₗₑₛ Fᵣₒₘ ₐ ₛₜᵣₐₙgₑᵣ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Poisoned, murder by strangulation, reader is too nice for her own good.

Masterlist

You were nice, perhaps way to nice for your own good. People can take advantage of it or you could get hurt. But you don't seem to really care about how other acted, they must of have their reasons on why they acted the way that they did. Like when you and Astarion met for the first time, you didn't hesitate to help him. Normally people would just walk away or tell him to do it himself, but you were different than most people he had met. You also had asked him to join your traveling group, despite your members not really liking the idea, you insisted for Astarion to join you all.

As days passed, Astarion saw more of you, he saw how you were just flat out kind to everyone around you. Your kind aura made others want to be around you, and maybe even be kind themselves. You almost reminded him of an ideal princess. Not only did you help people, but animals. One time you had come across a bird who had fallen off a tree, you didn't hesitate to pick the feathered creature up in your hands and comforted it as if it was a baby. You took care of the bird until it was able to fly again. Not only that, but sometimes animals would follow you for some reason. From deers, mice, squirrels, birds, rabbits. All kinds of animals that you could think of.

He didn't really understand why you were the way that you were. He believed that you needed some kind of reality check, that not everything is all sunshine and rainbows. Plus, you were making yourself a target for people to kill or take advantage of. But you weren't dumb, you knew that not everyone is kind, that people could be horrible if they wished. Then Astarion began to have close watch towards you. He made sure that no one took advantage of your kindness or harm you. He knew that you weren't venerable, but its safe to have an extra pair of eyes. But that wasn't what worried him, their was a rumor about a woman passing as an weak little old lady out poisoning women who are said to be beautiful. He knew that you'd fall for it, since you'd be the one to give out a helping hand, he did not want anything to happen to you. He would die if something were to happen to your sweet self.

That night you were in the forest, on your own, walking. Then you spotted an old lady, with a black cloak and carrying a basket with red apples. She seemed to be struggling to walk. "Hey, is something wrong?" You asked her, approaching the little old lady. "Oh dear... I'm just.." She attempted to finish, but she nearly fell, but you manage to catch her. Then you sat her down on a fallen log. "Are you sure you're okay?" You asked her again, taking hold of one of her hands.

"I'm fine, just tired." She responded with a sweet smile. "You're such a nice girl." She said with a smile. "Here, have one of theses." She said, handing you a big red apple. "Are you sure? I'm sure you need this one." You tried to reason with her. "No no, I insist. Take it, have a bite even." She said. You gave her smile, then gave the apple a bite. As you chewed the fruit, you felt like their was a bitter, very bitter taste in your mouth, not only that but you felt dizzy, your face distorted in disgust. You wanted to spit out the piece, but you were frozen. Looking down at the apple, you saw how it quickly rotted into your hand and falling to the floor.

Then you fell on your side, about to close your eyes. You saw how the old woman was now a completely different woman. Much younger, but older than you. She let out a loud laugh, watching as you drifted into sleep. Everything went black.

Astarion had been looking for you, its been hours since you were in the woods. You wouldn't take long. Then he spotted you on the ground, with your eyes closed and the lady standing above you. Without hesitation, he ran up to her and tackled her to the ground. He was much stronger than her. She was on the floor, with Astarion on top of her, gripping tightly onto her neck. "Who are you!? What have you done to her!" He growled. The lady just laughed as she tried to get him off her. "Oh nothing, just an apple. With a special ingredient!" She admitted, laughing like an evil witch. "Now, I'll be the most fairest of them all!" she added as she laughed some more.

He growled at her, gripping onto her neck tightly. He kept on squeezing harder and harder, as much as she squirmed and tried to pry him off it didn't work. After a couple minutes, her neck let out a loud crunch, she stopped moving, her breath was now completely leaving her body. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her sclera was completely red, her mouth agape. She was dead. He quickly left her corpse and went up to you. Picking you up and placing you in his lap and arms.

"Darling? Come on, wake up!" He begged, trying to shake you awake, but you were in what he assumed to be in deep slumber. You look so peaceful. "Please darling, open your pretty eyes for me... won't you?" he asked again, trying to get you to wake up. He was beginning to panic, trying to figure out what he should do. He thought about taking you back to camp and ask the others for him, or if he should do it himself. He looked at you again, then he noticed something about your mouth and cheeks. As if something was inside.

He put his hands on your cheeks, giving it a gentle squeeze. As your cheeks was pushed up together, so did your lips. A small piece of the apple peaking out. He then squeeze your cheeks a bit much tightly but gently. Then more of the apple came out of your mouth, he grabbed the small piece from between your lips and threw it away. The piece had also decayed on the ground. Then you began to coughed yourself away. Astarion helped you get on you knees and patting you back, as you coughed up the small pieces.

"That's it darling, let it all out!" He encouraged, as he rubbed your back. You coughed up the remaining pieces of the poisoned apple. After you were done, coughing up a lung. You had a bit of tears in your eyes, must have been cause of how much you coughed up. You cleaned your bottom eyelid with your finger. "That apple tasted horrible." That's all you said, then you felt as Astarion wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You were confused, but you hugged him back. After that hug was over, Astarion's attitude changed, from concern to one of worry.

"What in the sweet hells were you thinking!? Taking stuff from strangers!" He scolded you like a child. "I didn't want to be rude to the lady! She seemed nice." You said in your defense. "Well she wasn't." Astarion said to you, now yelling. He quickly calmed down. "Darling, I get it. You want to be nice to everyone and have good intensions, but not everyone has good intentions. Did you not hear the rumor about a potential serial killer?!" He said, more calmly. He was right, not everyone had good intensions. You had to take extra percussion now. "I'm sorry." You said, looking down, a bit ashamed. "No no, there's no need for you to be sorry. You didn't know. The one who should be sorry is her." He said, referring towards the woman's corpse.

You looked over, seen that she was dead, with marking on her neck and her bloodshot eyes open. You then looked back at Astarion. "You killed her?" You asked. "Obviously! I wasn't going to let her go that easily! But now that I think of it, I should have put her in hot iron shoes and make her dance until she dies." He said, almost jokingly and seriously. You couldn't help but lightly chuckle by the dark joke. "Enough of that, let's head back to the camp. Let the wolves eat her body or better yet. Let her rot!" He said, getting up from the floor and helping you up. He took your hand, basically guiding you back to the camp. "Thank you Astarion." You said with a smile. "There is no need to thank me, just.. be more careful." He responded, you could see the small blush creeping up on his cheeks. You smiled by his now flushed demeanor.

[captain-mj]

Hiiiii can I please request a PriceGraves fic where General shepherd would like sexually harass Graves (ass slapping/grabbing, comments, etc.)? And like Graves is a bit scared to do anything of that nature with Price? Idk this came to me as I was under the effects of anesthesia 😂

I certainly can! I'm assuming you mean Graves is nervous to enter a relationship due to concerns that Price would start acting like that but if I misinterpreted, just send me an ask with clarification and I'll rewrite!

Graves felt his skin crawl every time he thought of Shepherd. Now that he was dead, he definitely felt better, and he'd never admit this to anyone, ever. But some of the... behaviors he had exhibited had put Graves on edge.

Graves was not a stranger to locker room talk and how men bragged about touching people, regardless of whether it was asked for or not. As a teen, he would participate, trying to fit the mold of straight man in the American South. As he got older, he started to avoid it, claiming he thought it was childish to talk about people, especially women like that. Which was partially true. He naively thought this was something straight men did. His bubble was quickly burst when he joined the military and found himself the target of that derogatory talk.

But hey, he managed. He kicked ass. Started a company. Made sure anyone that spoke or acted like that either learned their lesson and shut it up or was booted off to scramble for work elsewhere like a dog.

When Shepherd stood behind Graves during an explanation and his hand just brushed against Graves's thighs, he brushed it off as an accident and kept talking.

Then his hand firmly grabbed his ass and squeezed. Under his breath, just loud enough for Graves to hear, “firm”.

Graves despised working with him after that. When he sent his men to die in Russia, he started working through the red tape to separate themselves. Every time they were in the same room, there would be some comment, some line, even just full on grabbing and the only reason Graves didn’t kill him was that his Shadows would be dealing with the repercussions of it. So he sucked it up, minimized contact and kept it moving.

Almost a year later, with Shepherd dead and him in an entirely different position, he'd think the idea of it happening would be the farthest thing from his mind.

But he... felt Price's eyes on him. He was polite and a gentleman.

Unlike Shepherd, Graves liked Price. Really. He wouldn't mind rolling around the hay with him. But they worked together and he didn't want another situation like before.

Price sat with him one day, after a mission and everything had simmered down. He even bought him a drink at the bar. The Shadows and the 141 mingled some, chatting normally.

Graves hesitated to take the drink. "Not going to owe you anything, am I?" He didn't sound like he was joking.

Price paused, bourbon almost touching his lips. "I'm not that kind of man, Graves. I won't lie. I want you. In a way that's not that gentleman like. But I won't ask you for anything. Not unless you ask first."

Graves looked at his drink. "I don't think you'd take advantage of me. I wouldn't let you. Worried you won't respect me."

Price frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Shepherd. He didn't respect me much."

"Did he ever?" The sudden anger in Price's voice was shockingly reassuring.

"Besides grabbing me a little, no. Made some disgusting comments."

Price downed his drink. He ordered another round for the two of them. "I don't allow that kind of behavior. Not among my men. Hate to see someone in power take advantage of it."

Graves was quiet a while, finishing his drink up. He wanted to. He really, really did. He glanced over and they made eye contact.

Price never bothered to hide his emotions. It was an admirable trait. He looked at Graves with such passion and ardor.

Graves broke the gaze and kept drinking. Price patted his shoulder, like they were just friends. "Phillip, I'll always respect you. You made a company from scratch. Stronger men than most."

"Thank you, John."

They separated and Graves wanted to ask him to come back. He didn't. He kept drinking until the Shadows could pull him into karaoke. This was all he needed. They were great. The best friends and coworkers he could ask for.

The bar got ready to close and they were all kicked out. Graves felt that surge of confidence that only came from being too drunk for your own good. He grabbed Price's arm and they stumbled forward.

Price let him into his quarters. He kissed him softly. Sweetly. They both tasted of bourbon.

"Graves, you're too drunk."

"Only time I'll be dumb enough to say yes."

Price smiled at him, though it was a tinge sad. "Let me get you in bed, love." He picked him up, like he didn't weigh anything. He carried him to the bed and laid him down, making sure both of their boots were off and on the floor.

Graves pulled off his shirt and pants, quickly waving his hand at Price's grunts. "I refuse to sleep fully clothed. I'm not in the field."

Price sighed but didn't stop him, only kicking off his own socks. "I'll make tea in the morning."

"....no coffee?"

"Don't drink the stuff."

Graves groaned loudly. "Should've just went back to my own room. No dick and no coffee."

"You're too drunk for me to sleep with you."

"You're buzzed. Cancels out."

"I don't think so." Price ran his fingers through Graves's hair, admiring his flushed face. "What are the chances you pretend you don't remember tonight?"

"Higher than I want to tell you."

Price nodded and leaned down, kissing him again. Graves could feel his heart in his throat. "Not being much of a gentleman, am I?"

"You're the one person I'm okay with it." Graves told him softly. "Look, sleep in the bed with me. Nothing has to happen, but I don't want to kick a man out of his own bed."

Price nodded and crawled in with him. They pressed close together and his arm went around Graves's middle.

It felt nice. Being held. His hands didn't wander. He didn't make any comments. Even pressed against his body, where he could no doubt feel the muscle and how his hands fit around his waist and his ass pressed against him, Price said nothing. Just held him.

Graves felt his eyes start to close. "John, I want you back."

"I know."

[salllzy]

Sal's rambling #9

Vox knew things about Alastor that he was sure that no one in Hell knew, Vox had been Alastor's best friend and as such had been privy to certain information.

Vox knew that when Alastor had been human he had a daughter, Sarah. But Alastor had never told him everything about his daughter, as much as he enjoyed and valued his friendship with Vox, Alastor didn't trust anyone with his daughter's secret. He would never let anyone harm her. Not now, not ever. She had been born from an affair with a British woman, Alastor had loved the woman in his own way and had agreed to marry her. For him it had been the perfect way to keep his cover as a serial killer hidden. What Alastor hadn't expected was to get attached to the woman and the spawn that she carried. Alastor's mother had been over the moon when she found out that she was becoming a grandmother and had made it her mission to spoil her grandbaby. Then Sarah had been born of course she hadn't been named that, in fact, neither of them had picked out a name for her. It had taken them a week to decide on a name and even then it hadn't been Alastor or his wife who had named her. It had been his mother. "Look at her, she is her daddy's little princess." It had been easy enough to name her Sarah after that and his mother was correct, Sarah was his little princess. He would slaughter anyone who would so much as look at her wrong. She was his world. He wasn't even that broken up when he and his wife divorced and she moved to France to be with another man, so long as he had his daughter then everything would be fine. As she got older, she began to mimic her father more and more, instead of wearing traditional women's clothing, she wore trousers and suits. She also wanted to be a radio host much like he was and he couldn't have been more proud. But as she grew older he noticed that there was something other about his daughter, a glint of red in her eyes that became more and more pronounced as she got older, her canines were sharp like that of a large cat and more often than not he found her doing things that no human should be capable of. So he became more protective of her. Then one day he found her covered in blood standing over a mutilated body with a feral look in her eyes. Hidden behind her legs was a small child that was sobbing, in Sarah's hands was a knife. Alastor didn't think twice about taking the knife from his daughter's hand and moving her away from such a gruesome scene even by his standards.

The child clung to his daughter's legs and refused to let go, in any other situation he would find it worrying, but his daughter had just murdered someone in a truly horrifying way and he needed to protect her. He also got in contact with the Voodoo priests that his mother was friends with. "Nephilim, Nephilim, Nephilim!" Alastor wasn't religious, he had never believed in God, but even he knew what a Nephilim was. He also knew that his daughter was in danger should anyone find out. It was then that he threw himself into the Voodoo lessons that his mother had taught him as a child. He wouldn't allow anyone to take advantage of his daughter, he would kill them first. But he also knew that she would need training, he couldn't help her. Not as he was, he could offer advice and guidance but that was it. But he did start taking her hunting with him, showing her how to track prey, Alastor had morals, he never targeted an innocent person and he always went after the scum of the earth. Something that his daughter had taken to heart. Much like before she followed hin her father's footsteps. If the police weren't going to keep the streets clean then they would. Eventually, it would all come to an end when he was shot and killed. It was his biggest regret leaving his daughter alone. She had been only nineteen when he had died, just a few weeks shy of her twentieth birthday. He took to Hell like a duck taking to water, he knew that his daughter would end up in Hell, given that she had followed in his footsteps. Less than two years later she arrived in Hell with all the grace of a bomb going off. He didn't know if he was relieved that she was with him once more or concerned that she was in Hell and there was a big possibility that Hell was not ready for her. Earth hadn't been. So he kept her a secret and one that he guarded well, until one day she brought home a blonde-haired girl with gold eyes and a rubber duck clutched in her hands, Alastor knew that their peaceful life was about to be over.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Things that happen at home:

So, my mom had her first symphony concert this weekend, and I’m happy to report that it was a smashing success.

What I personally thought was really cool is that the whole symphony is mostly older women. Most of the brass section was older men though, and you could tell that the trumpet and trombone players were having a great time with the music (lots of jamming out head and shoulders movement) and WOW that tuba player has A Set Of Lungs.

Honestly kinda makes me miss the days when Middle Sister would stand just outside my bedroom door and just BLAST through her practice session as fast as possible. Yes, she was a tuba player. Yes, she was in marching band and orchestra. Yes, I absolutely ran out screaming “MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!” Every. Single. Time. No, that did not stop her in anyway whatsoever.

Anyway, there was also a cello soloist that performed with violin and viola accompaniment, and he was legitimately fantastic. I told my mom during intermission that she was better and she did her scrunch up face of You’re Full Of Shit But I Like The Support which was cute.

I was sitting next to my one of my cousins for the concert and we both kept side eyeing each other and giggling about how he was bobbing along and jamming out…for those of you that don’t know, it’s very easy to jam out and look cool when you have either a very small instrument or a very large instrument.

When you have a medium instrument, like a cello or French horn, you just look silly if you’re jamming out (saxophone is the exception) and my mom has this very…contained way of playing that looks intense but graceful and determined. So to see someone looking like they’re jamming out on an electric guitar while playing a cello was just…hilarious to us, because we’ve been watching my mom jam out for decades and never seen anyone look so goofy while sounding so good.

One of my moms work friends showed up, and she was an absolute delight. Complete sweetheart; it’s also really fucking funny to tease government contractors about their top secret clearances and joke about their projects or basically anything that they aren’t allowed to talk about. (I teased her specifically about being in the CIA because she does intelligence analysis; my husband and I have a long standing “argument” about if my mom works on quantum computers or making targeted ai satellite systems talk to each other, because honestly her PhD could easily allow for both) the goal is to make relatively small jokes and then drop it quickly because you don’t actually want them to violate their security protocols…but fucking hell if it isn’t fun to toe the line.

My mechanic husband had the dubious joy of teaching me how to jump start a car in the parking lot without jumper cables. (My car battery is in the fritz and needs replacement but we honestly thought it could wait another month or so…)

But basically you put the car in neutral, push it into a position that it can roll naturally downhill, then put it in either first gear or reverse (which ever way is down hill, basically) and release the clutch. I’m pretty sure this only works on automatic transmission vehicles, but I could be wrong and didn’t ask for clarification.

I’d like to point out that we were in a crowded parking lot with a perfectly functioning set of jumper cables. We could have absolutely asked any of the ten people walking by if we could get a jump. We could have waited for my cousin to come out, because we were parked right next to each other. But no. “What if you’re stuck by yourself? You pride yourself on being able to get out of anything.”

That man knows me too well.

Overall, great night. Fantastic concert, great learning experience, got to be an absolute little shit. 10/10, would do again.